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captainsphinxart · 3 days

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Hello everyone ! I finally post the first chapter of my very first fanfiction. I hope you will all like it! Don't hesitate to tell me your opinion. Completely SFW Summary: 10 years after the events of Hogwarts Legacy, Amelia (my MC) and Sebastian are now aurors assigned to the task to find the new leader of the Ashwinders, the younger brother of Victor Rookwood. Their investigations lead them back to Hogwarts where they get to become professors to stay undercover. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Heart's in the Highlands

A Hogwarts Legacy FanFic, 10 years later.

Chapter One : Paperwork

Amelia was hard at work in the Auror's office on this beautiful and sunny monday morning. She was busy writing a report on her last investigation. Yet the young Auror was struggling to remember today's date which she needed to write on it. Her mind was simply elsewhere, thinking of how she could be enjoying a nice walk in the countryside as she felt the warmth of the sun caressing her face through the window. Although she had the chance to travel the country with her work and often explore the countryside to hunt dark wizards, she missed her blithesome days at Hogwarts. At that time of her life, she had the freedom and time to roam the Highlands and discover their secrets, of enjoying sunny afternoons lying in the grass with the ones she loved. Flashes of tender teenage memories crossed Amelia's mind, and the need of writing the date on her report was now a distant memory.

That is when a familiar voice, which at first she thought was coming from her memories, brought her back to reality. “Amelia? Would you like a coffee?”, Sebastian pronounced softly as he delicately put his hand on her shoulder, obviously understanding she was daydreaming. The grey-haired witch jumped slightly, however part of her was still away. As, indeed, Sebastian's voice was already part of the memories she was reminiscing about, before he even pronounced these words. In her daydreamings, he was still the conflicted mischievous Slytherin boy she fell in love with. He was still that Scottish freckled teen with brown messy hair, a mysterious grin on his face and yet terribly sad dark eyes. After a few seconds, Amelia got a grip on herself and her gaze crossed his. She realised her day inside wasn't that dull in fact. With him by her side, almost everyday was a sunny day. Now she could see before her eyes the man this boy had become. Although the wounds of the past had not been fully healed yet, he radiated with happiness, especially around Amelia. Sebastian was now a proud young auror, with a determined attitude and elegant looks. However, the messy hair remained, the Feldcroft boy was still there inside. Whenever Amelia took a moment to observe the young wizard, she saw both past and present Sebastian, witnessing how far he had come. This made her love him even more and she was immensly proud of him. Finally, the most recent addition to her boyfriend's look was a moustache. Yet another reason to love him more. She remembered with endearment the evening spent with Sebastian in the Three Broomsticks at the end of their seventh year when she suggested to him the moustache look. They chatted around a good butterbeer of what they would look like as Aurors in the future. Amelia could clearly see him with a neat little moustache. And to think that now what she imagined became true.

All of these thoughts crossed Amelia's mind as she looked at her boyfriend, who was still waiting for her answer. “I'm sorry dear, it seems my mind did not want to be here. I would love a coffee, please.”, observed the young witch, smiling tenderly to her lover. “I didn't realise it was pause time already”, she murmured, almost to herself. “Alright then, I'll go make some coffee.” Sebastian said ending his sentence with a soft kiss on her head. “You should go for a small walk, even inside, it'll wake you up.” he concluded. He was just about to turn away when Amelia stopped him. “Sebastian wait! One more thing. What is the date today? I feel like my mind's a bit foggy. I can't remember.”, the witch confessed. “The date? Ha ha ha! You really do need to wake up! Today's Monday the 10th of September 1900.”, Sebastian answered. With these words, Amelia got up fastly from her chair, as if to finally put an end to her state of half-sleep. A caring chuckle escaped the young man's mouth while seeing this scene. He then walked away to make coffee, with a grin on his face. He was probably trying to come up with something to tease her a bit, as he always did. As for Amelia, she sighed as she remember all the work she had to do after the pause. She brushed her skirt with a swift and expert motion of her hands. She pulled a little the ends of her brown velvety vest to put it back in place. And she brought her loose hair behind her back. Having a respectable appearance while walking through the office corridors was utterly important to Amelia. Anyone would agree this was very Ravenclaw of her. Feeling satisfied with her looks, she walked to the door of their office.

After entering the corridor, Amelia closed the door of her office, took a deep breath to prepare for whoever she would meet, and took a glance left and right. Her careful behaviour was due to the fact that, although passing her Auror training with flying colors and having made her marks in the job for three years, the young witch was still one of the few female Aurors at the moment. She had to suffer frequent comments from her coworkers, even though most of the time unintentionnal. Amelia knew how to defend herself but still, this situation made her a bit nervous. No one was in sight in the endless corridor of the Ministry, with its dusty red carpeting and gloomy portraits of former Head Aurors. Amelia always thought the Ministry had a strange and heavy atmosphere, she felt uncomfortable here.

She decided to walk in the direction of the Head Auror's office, maybe she would have the chance to chat sometime with him. The Head Auror at the time was Maynard Dunn who had been chosen for his skills and not for the reknown of his family. He proved his capacities many times in breaking many Poacher networks up in the United Kingdom. This 45 year-old wizard was the one who recognised Amelia and Sebastian as useful recruits and approved their application. He quickly became a mentor to both of them. Amelia appreciated him especially for the fact that he made no difference between her and male Aurors. Unfortunately, to reach Dunn's office, Amelia needed to cross one of the open cublicles where the other Aurors worked. Part of her feared their comments, but what were some looks and comments to someone who had single-handedly vanquished Ranrok as a fifteen year-old. The young witch gathered her courage and opened the door to the cubicle.

There, she met the one person she feared to meet: Dunn's secretary. He was a small and round man who tended to forget Amelia was an Auror, although being a woman. “Ah! Miss Grayson, I was hoping to see you this morning. I am still waiting for your report.”, he exclaimed while checking his notebook. “I am currently working on it, sir.”, Amelia answered politely. “Currently? Obviously not since you're there in front of me.”, barked the little man. Amelia was boiling, she wished she could change him into a quill and use it to write her report. As she was about to answer, the secretary ignored her and turned away to talk to another Auror: “Good day to you Agent McLaggen, how was your week-end?”. “Agent?”, Amelia thought to herself, “I never get to be called Agent Grayson...”. There was no point in remaining here. She took a quick glance at the buzzing office: some Aurors where laughing around a cup of coffee, some others where writing frenetically on brand new parchment, while others were frowning incredibly hard at their files as if they were suffering from extreme pains. Amelia then continued her walk to the Head Auror's office and left the cubicle to enter another corridor. She was almost there when she met exactly who she wanted to, Maynard Dunn. Surprisingly enough, the man was accompanied by a teen girl with long dark hair. She gave a penetrating look to Amelia which caught her off-guard. Thousands of questions where running through her mind as she approached the unusual duo.

Hearing the young Auror's footsteps on the carpeting, Dunn turned towards her and smiled. The teen's face remained cold, she seemed to be analysing Amelia from head to toe. The silver-haired witch pretended not to notice it and gave Maynard Dunn a handshake. “I'm glad you're here Amelia, there is an important matter we need to discuss.”, the Head Auror told her. “I'm all ears sir, but I just have one question. I don't recall we take interns, don't we ?”, immediately replied Amelia with her signature delicate sarcasm that would have made Sebastian melt if he was here. She gave a head sign in direction of the teen girl. The black-haired teen raised an eyebrow at this and her eyes were casting sparks of defiance. Amelia only smiled at her, already feeling a good chemistry between them. “Excuse me ladies, I almost forgot the introductions. Amelia, this is my niece Yana. I am escorting her to her trial for underage sorcery. It's only a simple formality as she was protecting herself but the ministry insists in using this case as an example. Yana, meet Amelia Grayson, she is one of my most valued agents.”, explained Dunn.

Amelia was particularly surprised by this underage sorcery trial story, as she had never been investigated over her use of magic outside of Hogwarts when she was Yana's age. And this law was already in place at the time. The young witch used to fight dark wizards and goblins in the Highlands as if she was already an Auror, and the ministry never said anything. “Nice to meet you Yana, what house are you in ?”, finally said Amelia offering the teenager her hand to shake. Yana seemed reticent at first, but she ended up returning Amelia her handshake. “I'm a proud Slytherin. And let me guess, you used to be in Ravenclaw, am I right?”, answered Yana with a teasing smile. Amelia could not hold back a giggle as she realised how obvious she was. At the same time, she felt like she was back ten years ago in the corridors of Hogwarts. That made a thrilling feeling of both nostalgia and excitement buzz in her chest, the feeling of Hogwarts. “That's wonderful, I've always got along well with Slytherins.” answered back Amelia with a smile.

Her attention was then quickly drawn back to the “important matter” the Head Auror mentioned. “So? What was it you wanted to tell me?”, asked the young Auror to Dunn, her face suddenly serious. Dunn took a quick glance around him as if he feared someone could be spying on them. The Head Auror suggested they should join Sebastian in their office as he needed to hear it too. Unlike other Aurors, Sebastian and Amelia had a shared office of their own, as they were assigned to a special case of national importance. The Head Auror had them in high esteem, which was the reason why he assigned them to the surveillance of the Ashwinder network. Considering the duo's unusually high experience with Ashwinders for their young age, it was obvious they would be assigned to this matter. They had to continue what they had started as Hogwarts students, especially for Amelia who helped take down Victor Rookwood himself. Amelia and Sebastian had been hard at work on this matter recently, with the help of various Aurors in the field.

Whispers had been spreading across the country about the rise of a new leader for the Ashwinders. A young dark wizard was rummored to be gaining power among the organisation. This wizard was no less that Victor Rookwood's younger brother, Hector Rookwood. The Aurors knew little about this man or about his true intentions, although they feared he could be seeking revenge. They also were unaware of his exact location since Rookwood Castle was under the control of the Ministry now. Finding his location was their primary goal and any information was good to take. It appeared as though this man learned from the mistakes of his brother and knew how to hide from the authorities. Hector Rookwood was a shadow. Trying to find this man was like trying to catch smoke, trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. For now at least, as Rookwood and his Ashwinders would start to act sooner or later. And Amelia had the feeling what Maynard Dunn wanted to tell them could be of a great help in their research. All three of them went back to Amelia and Sebastian's office.

When Amelia crossed the cubicle she passed in earlier, now in company of the Head Auror, all came quiet and stared at them. Some looks where filled with jealousy towards Amelia. The trio quickly reached the office and entered. As soon as he saw them, Sebastian raised an eyebrow, then gave Amelia a questioning look. To which, the silver-haired girl answered, as if she knew what he was about to ask before even hearing it. “Mr. Dunn has something important to tell us, Seb. And this is Yana, his niece who's here at the Ministry for her underage sorcery trial.” Sebastian took a glance at the teenager, “Slytherin attitude” he thought. He then hit the Head Auror with his piercing gaze and his mischievous smile. “So, sir? What is it?”

Dunn cleared his throat and asked all of them to sit. “I have bad news, which are sort of good news for you, my young Aurors.” Amelia and Sebastian exchanged an excited look, expecting to learn something about Hector Rookwood. “The reason why my niece here has been charged for underage sorcery is she defended herself and an old man. They were attacked by a small group of dark wizards in the countryside of Hogwarts. You two more than anyone know that these kind of attacks are extremely rare. Last time it happened you were still at Hogwarts. However, the reason I'm telling you this is because... They were attacked by Ashwinders.”

Amelia glanced at Sebastian. The young man was frowning, he was staring at his feet. She already knew his blood was starting to boil. After sometime, he broke the silence. “When did it happen?”, he said coldly. Dunn was about to answer but his niece was quicker. “About a month ago.” said the young Slytherin. Dunn did not wanted her to interviene but it was too late. Sebastian, who was still staring at his feet, suddenly sat up straight and gave a black look to the Head Auror. Amelia wondered if she should interviene. She knew how upset he was about the fact that Dunn waited so long to inform them, and worse kept the information secret to everyone. In a fraction of seconds, Sebastian stood up and leaned towards Dunn from across his desk. His partner could feel he was trying to fight his anger. “With all due respect sir, why? Why did you wait so long to tell us? WHAT IF THESE ASHWINDERS HAD PLANNED OTHER ATTACKS? IF WE HAD KNOWN WE COULD HAVE PREVENTED THEM! YOU'RE LUCKY THIS IS HYPOTHETIC!” Amelia gently took the young man's arm and suggested him to sit with a soft pat on the shoulder. “Please, dear, calm down. I hate seeing you like this... And I'm sure Mr. Dunn had good reasons to do so and planned every possibility. At least I hope so.” With these words, the freckled wizard took a seat and gave her a pitiful look. “I'm sorry...”, Sebastian whispered before looking away to the window. He noticed the bright morning sun had already been covered by clouds. London's heavy pollution was not helping either.

On the side, Yana who realised she had made a mistake hid her eyes behind her fringe. As to Amelia she only gave Dunn a deeply concerned look. The Head Auror finally spoke. “I understand your anger Sebastian. However, I needed a moment before telling you two, to do some arrangements.” Dunn paused to evaluate their reaction. They both were expecting him to continue and their serious frowns were clear. Dunn smiled. “As we finally have intel on aggressive and unusual Ashwinder activity, I'm sure you two will want to investigate further the region. Which means you'll need a place to stay, a cover and an office. I have found a perfect solution to that and went through the required formalities. Said formalities that took about a month.” Dunn paused again, to create some suspense. Amelia and Seb appeared to be surprised. “It came to my attention that even though the school year has already started, Hogwarts is still lacking a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and an Ancient Studies professor. And there I thought, you two would be perfect for these jobs and it would be the perfect cover. As I said I contacted Professor Weasley and you will start next week.”

Amelia's jaw dropped. As for Sebastian, he appeared to be confused, he did not know how to react. Both of them stayed silent as they were speechless. “So, Professor Grayson you will teach DADA and Professor Sallow you will teach Ancient Studies. You will have a room in Hogwarts and the local agents will assist you if needed. Esop Sharp will make you a presentation of the local Auror network as soon as you arrive. I have already booked two Hogwarts Express tickets and organised the transfer of your belongings. I also charged my secretary to order all the supplies you need for your job.” Amelia finally managed to speak although still being somehow confused. “Are you sure about all this sir?” The Head Auror grinned and reassured her. “Well haven't you both told me about the fact you wanted to slowly find a way to settle down a bit? I'm sure having a job at Hogwarts, although for now being to investigate and fight dark wizards, will end up being the best path to a calmer life.” Finally, Amelia and Sebastian shared a look, they both agreed with Dunn's proposition. Though it was more an order than a proposition.

“Alright, we'll do that.”, agreed Sebastian. “Fantastic! I must say this situation was unhoped for. Professor Hecat retired last year and the school has been struggling to find a new teacher. Same thing for the position of Ancient Studies professor, it has been difficult to make a long term contract with a professor for this subject ever since Eleazar Fig's passing.” At the mention of Professor Fig's name, Sebastian immediately grabbed Amelia's hand to make sure she was alright. Of course it hurt, but she was eager to return to Hogwarts. She would see the Highlands again.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts oc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy mc #wizarding world #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fandom

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 15 days

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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #dpxdc memes #dpxdc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #alcohol

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Jean Seberg (Breathless, Saint Joan)— Some of us watched À bout de souffle as a lil French undergrad and had the trajectory of our lives changed by Jean Seberg. She IS French new wave!! She is the moment!! She sadly had to work with a lot of shitty directors in her career but even so, she has this magnetic energy whenever she’s on screen. In her personal life, she was also very supportive of civil rights causes, and was even targeted/harassed by the FBI for financially supporting the Black Panther Party.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Jean Seberg:

anyone who plays Joan of Arc is kind of hot by default tbh

she's gorgeous, she's cool, she has the original blond pixie cut

She donated a lot of her money to civil rights organizations such as the NAACP and the black panther party as well as Native American school groups, as a result of this the fbi ran a smear campaign against her and a surveillance campaign which is thought to have led to her suicide tragically.

idk if this is propaganda but the COINTELPRO and the FBI are widely blamed for her death. If the FBI was after her for supporting the Black Panther Party you know she was good

#jean seberg #ava gardner #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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humansofnewyork · 6 months

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“It’s been a tough morning for me. I used to be a children’s librarian. But this morning I had to call publishers and tell them not to send me any more books. I just can’t read them anymore, not like I used to. And that was hard. It felt like I was cutting off a lifeline. It’s disappointing, the sense of not being in control of my own life anymore. Everything depends on my medical schedule, and the chemotherapy, and what my limits are. The doctor has told me to expect a couple more years, but my caretaker says she’s seen a lot of sick people. And she thinks I could be one of the ones who can beat it. For most of my life happiness was automatic. I might have had the only career where you get told ‘I love you’ three or four times a week. Maybe it happens with teachers too, but so many little kids said those words to me over the years. And I miss that. I was damned lucky to have that experience. Happiness isn’t automatic anymore, these days I have to work a little bit more for it. In addition to all the pain and the fear and having to pee all the time, I choose to do a lot of things that will make me aware of the beauty and loveliness of life. It's not magic. I don’t stop thinking about the scary stuff, I just find moments to push them aside with the ridiculous. There’s so much in life that’s ridiculous. Every Saturday morning I watch Popeye on Turner Classic Movies. It’s so ridiculous. Olive Oil is so obnoxious. And you know, she has all these men after her. It’s just really funny. And Popeye is so full of himself and somehow manages to come out of everything, eat his spinach, and win. Then there’s my laughing yoga classes, which I can’t do in person anymore. But I do them online. There’s this thing we do where people will get in lines of three or four, and we’ll pretend to have a boat race. Everyone rows as hard as they can. Someone chooses a winner, and if you lose you get to create a big scene and make an ass of yourself. It’s ridiculous. And then there’s you. You’re ridiculous. You’re stopping random people, presumably to entertain yourself. You’re sitting in the middle of the street. I mean, think about it. It’s pretty dumb.”

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klausysworld · 1 month

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A prompt I had for a while: reader is a single widowed mother. Klaus and her become close but she’s reluctant as she’s scared to start anything with Klaus as she’s worried her daughter may get attached. Klaus is adamant he loves reader and her daughter.

Just fluff and stuff!

Bonus: smut? And even a lil addition to the family that’s a mix of Klaus and reader 👶

Life goes on

I had only dated a couple of guys since losing my husband.

It had taken a while to allow myself to feel okay with being someone else, especially because of Luna; my daughter. She's only young, barely 6 and I didn't want her to think I was replacing her father, not that she really remembers him much now. Years had passed now and sometimes she would ask where her daddy was and why he couldn't visit.

I had only let her meet one other guy before and she was more heartbroken than I was when it didn't work out so I knew I needed to keep her away from that aspect of my life, especially while she was so young.

But that didn't mean that I didn't date.

It wasn't a frequent thing, just when I found someone I really liked and well, I really liked Nik.

We met at Luna's school actually. He also has a daughter who's a few years older and we had just dropped them off. I accidentally caught his eye when I took a glance round the playground and we smiled at each other politely.

He was a sight for sore eyes: good hair, nice eyes, charming smile, lean body and a nice sense of fashion. An annoying sense of guilt always filled me when I found another man attractive so I looked away and headed to work.

Still though, I couldn't help look for him and his smile every morning when I dropped Luna off and every afternoon when I picked her back up. He would always be looking back at me as his own daughter would run on over to him and he would take her backpack from her and give me a look as if to say "Kids, am I right?" and I would always smile a little wider and gesture to my own who would always be pulling on my sleeve telling me she wanted to go home or to a friends house.

It made me jump a little the first time he actually spoke to me, he had appeared behind me as though out of thin air and quickly apologised when I flinched away at the sound of his voice and placed my hand over my chest.

He chuckled as he spoke, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you"

His voice had a beautiful accent that made my cheeks blush pink and my attention to focus on him completely.

"That's okay, I just wasn't paying attention" I dismissed and he smiled

"I'm Nik" he introduced and I felt my heart flutter a little bit in a way that I knew I would feel bad about later.

"Y/n" I whispered and he hummed as he took my hand and kissed that back of it, I couldn't help but laugh at the outdated gesture and he rolled his eyes playfully.

I glanced over to the doors where I was waiting for Luna to come out briefly before turning back to him. He had a curious sort of look in his eye that made me ask if something was wrong but he shook his head.

"I just don't understand why you're single" he murmured and I felt my eyes go to the floor as I hesitated because there was no right way to every tell somebody that my husband had died and since then my life was a mess. So I turned away from him and tried to swallow the memory of my husbands death away but then I felt his Nik's on my arm and the gentle act reminded me of him. "I don't mean to offend you" he told me, his tone soft and it made me feel worse.

"You didn't, I'm sorry my daughters here now so I have to go" I whispered, walking forward to meet Luna as she already had her hand outstretched to hold onto mine.

I tried not to look at him the next day.

Dating was complicated enough, dating a man who's child went to the same school as mine was too much.

However, for better or worse, no matter how much I tried to ignore him, our eyes always seemed to meet and as the days passed we ended up stood closer and closer together. Once we were so close, it felt rude to ignore him so we would talk. Not really about anything important or deep, mostly parent things and what sorts of things the girls were up to. It was a conversation topic that was easy and didn't open up too many personal questions.

I started to like him, more than I wanted to. But so did other moms and teachers for that matter even though most of them were married. Woman were cruel sometimes, often I wondered if they just never evolved from highschool.

For whatever reason, they didn't like that I was a single mother, despite it not being my fault or choice. Luna and I had moved here after my husband died but I only had to tell one person for the whole town to know that I was widowed and struggling.

Klaus wasn't aware for a while, not until one of the other moms filled him in.

I had gotten to school a little late because work and ran over, I was never late but unfortunately I had been that day but I rang the school to let them know even though it was only a few minutes so that Luna wasn't stood waiting.

When I got there Luna was running toward me crying and I quickly lifted her up asking what was wrong.

"They're talking about Daddy" she whimpered and I quickly looked over. Two woman were talking to eachother, loudly. Nik was looking right at me and I felt my face heating up as the moms spoke about how felt for someone like me and they wondered how I managed to even get out of bed each morning let alone flirt with other men after losing my husband.

I kissed Luna's head gently and whispered for her to ignore it before walking briskly to my car and strapping her in. I wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and went round to my side of the car.

Fast paced footsteps approached me before I heard his voice. "Y/n, love, are you alright?" he asked, his hand going to my upper back in an act of comfort and it made my eyes water again.

"I'm fine" I whispered but it came out as weak and unconvincing as I felt.

I didn't have it in me to push myself away from him when he pulled me into a hug, his hand stroked the back of my hair and I cried into his shoulder. I knew Luna could see me hugging a man from her carseat and it made me cry harder at the thought.

"It's alright" he mumbled while his arms seemed to circle me tighter. I tried to apologise but he shushed my sorrys away and helped wipe my tears away. I glanced over to where his daughter, Hope, was stood. She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved a little, Klaus handed Hope the keys to his car and asked he to wait for a moment before turning back to me. "Hope lost her mother due to childbirth" he told me and I softened all that more.

"I'd say I'm sorry but... I know that's not really something you want to hear again" I whispered and he smiled a little.

"You'd be correct" he muttered and I glanced back at Luna who held a worried but curious expression. I looked back at him and nodded before letting go of me and opening my car door for me. I sniffed and thanked him before getting into my seat and watching him walk over to his own car before driving home.

Luna asked who he was and I told her he was just another dad from school, but I knew she wasn't as clueless as she acted.

Thankfully it was a Friday so I didn't have to see Nik for a couple of days, or any of the moms. Just Luna and I.

Once Monday came back around I didn't feel like facing the stuck up bitches of the community so watched Luna go in from my car and waved to her teacher at the door so they knew how Luna got there. I went to get back into my car when Nik's voice called out for me and captured my attention once more.

"I do hope you aren't avoiding me, love" he called as he grew nearer and I quickly shook my head.

"No, not you" I replied and his brows pulled together briefly before a look of realisation and sympathy washed over his face.

"They don't know what they're saying. Nobody knows how it feels until they've gone through it, not that I want any of them to but it would help a little if they understood at least a fraction of the pain" he expressed and I couldn't have worded it better myself.

"I just don't know how people can be so unempathetic" I mumbled and he nodded solemnly.

"The world" he muttered "is a cruel place. It always has been." somehow he sounded as if he truly knew that and I found myself questioning it.

"Will it always be?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"Not for everyone. Not for you, I won't allow it." he told me, honesty shining in his eyes that made a blush spread to my ears and a smile to creep across my face.

"I won't hold you to it" I breathed but he shook his head and took my hand, kissing the back of it making my eyes roll.

"I don't tend to break promises" he uttered before squeezing my hand and letting me go to work for the day.

Later we both got to school early to see the other though neither of us outwardly confirmed it, we both knew. That was when he asked if I was ever free to go out for lunch or dinner or anything. I was reluctant and he could see that,

"It doesn't have to be a date" he offered, "just friends getting something to eat or drink or going on a walk..."

After a moment I agreed and told him that one of my neighbours would be happy to babysit Luna for a couple hours after work or on the weekend. The elderly lady next door was lovely and welcoming, she gave sympathy immediately and loved Luna from day one and had watched over her a couple times throughout the last couple years.

We just went and got some coffee and went for a walk to begin with. It was nice to ease into it. The last guy I went out with expected way too much on the first date while Nik kissed my cheek and knew that was enough for that day. Somehow he seemed to know everything, when to make a move and when to slow down. He could read me like a book and under different circumstanced that would scare me but I didn't feel afraid with him.

So I started to see him more frequently, more romantically.

He would take me to fancy restaurants and refuse to let me even see the check which to begin with was cute but started to make me feel guilty which he picked up on and explained that he didn't want me to ever think about money when I was with him. He said that he had more than he knew what to do with and spoiling me made him happy. I wasn't completely settled with this answer but I accepted it a bit.

We ended up making it into a little game. We would see which one of us could grab the check the fastest, he almost always won but every now and then I would manage to snatch it up, he would be trying to get it off of me but I would threaten to scream so he had to stop tickling. On occasion, if he had to go to the bathroom, I would manage to pay the bill before he was able to intervene and he would strop over it and end up buying me something worth much more that the date.

Everything about it was heavenly, accept for the comments and opinions of others. However it seemed that people only seemed to step out of line once before they never spoke ill of me again, it was strange but somehow I knew that Klaus had something to do with it.

This was confirmed when he dropped be home and my neighbour: Dorothy, or Dot was stood outside with a hard expression on her face as she held a sleeping Luna. I approached with a confused frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried and her eyes snapped to mine.

"That's the man you're seeing?" she asked, her tone judgemental and I didn't understand the switch up. I nodded, confused and she tightened her hold on Luna making my eyes narrow in concern. "You stop talking to that man right now. He is no good and never will be. A monster is that man and I will not allow him to be in Luna's life nor yours." she argued and I frowned.

"Dot- what on earth are you on about?" I asked, alarmed.

"He is the devil reincarnated. You stay away." she warned as she handed me Luna. "You don't understand now but you will if you stay near him. He'll ruin whatever good you have."

I didn't know what she was on about, or why or how she knew Nik but Dorothy was not a liar and she was not a hateful person so to see her voice such a harsh opinion spoke volumes.

I was a little more skeptical around Nik, but I also didn't really know what I was looking for. He just seemed upset and stressed when I turned down the third date in a row.

It made me feel awful so I went to Dot and started to demand answers.

Now, I'll be honest, I thought she was losing it when she started talking about vampires and werewolves and witches. But when I tried to leave the door slammed shut without her touching it and the fireplace flames roared.

"You have to listen to me dear, and you have to really hear me to be able to understand" she whispered, leading me back to the sitting room where she went into depth regarding her own witch heritage and then the originals and Nik or rather Niklaus.

Luna knew something was wrong when I let her have a couple days off school and she asked if it was because of Nik. She wasn't naive and she knew that I liked him more than others.

Eventually she asked to go back to school, being at home for so many days was boring so I took her in.

There was no way of avoiding Niklaus when he was waiting beside my car with a look of hurt throughout him. I tried to ignore him and just open the door but his hand touched my arm and I pulled away quickly. He caged me against the car and I could feel fear consuming me.

"Y/n" he murmured, his tone so soft that it confused me again. "Love, if I've done something to upset to upset you or scare you..." He trailed, his hands cupping both sides of my face and I couldn't help but enjoy the warmth he always had. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know how to get out of the situation I was in and it was making me panic further.

"I need to go to work" I whispered quietly, weakly.

"I know..." he mumbled, "but...I need you and... you won't even look at me"

"You don't need me Nik" I told him, "It was only a few dates-"

"It's not" he argued

"We haven't slept together so it's not a big deal-"

"That's a lie and you know it" he whispered, exasperated.

I glanced up at him, and then I wasn't able to look away. He was right, it was a much bigger deal than I wanted to admit. We had connected on a much more emotional level than anyone I had before, other than my husband those years ago.

"We can't be together" I whispered and his frown deepened

"Did I kiss you too soon? I never meant to rush you" he muttered, concern displayed across his face

"It's not that-"

"Then what-"

"You're a vampire!" I whisper-yelled and his mouth snapped shut. "Or a hybrid or something...I don't...I can't..."

He stayed silent and stepped back, allowing me to open my car door and get in. I didn't hesitate in driving away.

I didn't see him when I picked up Luna however I did receive a message later that evening.

Hello, my love I do hope you'll one day forgive me for keeping my true identity a secret. I never meant to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable, however I suppose that's why I didn't tell you. I like you very much, more than I have liked someone in many years and I love that you're such a lovely mother. I've thoroughly enjoyed our dates and I had hoped that we would progress our relationship however I understand that you are afraid for yourself and for Luna. Know that I would never, ever harm your daughter. I have one of my own and I know what it's like to love and worry for a child. I would never hurt either of you. Still, I know you will probably feel alarmed by my presence so I'll leave you be is that's would you want, all I ask is that you please don't tell others of my species as it puts Hope's life endanger and all I want is for her and you to be safe. I don't expect a reply but know that I will always have a space for you in my heart.

I could feel my heart aching as I read down to the bottom line.

I didn't see him anywhere for the next too weeks and I found myself missing him terribly.

Eventually I couldn't take it. I found that I didn't see him as anything other than a man. Not a monster or a threat. Just someone I cared for deeply and knowing that I had hurt him made me feel terribly guilty.

So I ended up messaging for him to meet me outside a little cafe. I had already ordered and paid for our drinks and was sat at a table waiting for him to arrive anxiously.

He got there exactly on time like always and sat opposite me with a singular flower for in his hand which he held out for me and I accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you" I whispered and his lips curled up as his hand moved to hold my hand and I let him, holding his back.

We spoke for a while, discussed who he was and how he got here, his intentions and any of my other questions before talking about our relationship again. I told him about my neighbour and he said he knew her last name and that decades ago her family had been involved with his brother, Kol, which resulted in a rather brutal and tragic even.

He admitted to being apart of the massacre and didn't attempt to justify his actions but just apologised for them and offered to formally apologise to Dorothy.

So, I brought him to her home and she instantly attacked him. It was only when I got in the way and she accidentally hurt me instead that she stopped. I was holding onto my head and crying while Klaus held me to his chest and tried to have me drink his blood which I now knew would heal me but the idea of it made me gag. Eventually I let the metallic taste fill my mouth and swallowed it down, the pain went away in a matter of seconds and Dot was hysterically sorry.

Klaus wouldn't let her near me and instead lifted me up and took me home. Dot begged me not to invite him in but I did so anyway.

He sat me down on the couch and kept asking if I was still hurt no matter how many times I told him that I was okay. He seemed more sorry than Dorothy and wouldn't stop checking me over.

It made me see just how much he cared and how honest he was being when he said he didn't want any harm to come to me. I could also see him resisting the urge to go back over to Dot after her causing me pain.

Eventually we had to go get Hope and Luna. No other parents so much as glanced our way when we both arrived in my car and I glanced to Klaus with the sneaking suspicion that he had compelled some of the women there but I didn't ask.

I let him officially meet Luna and although she was shy, she told me that she liked him once we got home.

Hope and Luna had a couple of play dates and everyone was getting along.

Luna started to ask for Nik sometimes, and once or twice she had accidentally called him 'dad' or 'daddy' though she would deny it afterwards and cry because she didn't want her father to think she was replacing him which would break my heart without fail.

Hope was a little older than Luna so more mature, Klaus didn't have the same issues I was having.

It had been months, over a year since our first date and Klaus told me that he loved me. It was a reality check of sorts. It scared me a little.

I had to start really thinking. Klaus was immortal and hope had powers. Luna and I would never be anything more than human. We would never be powerful and one day I would get old and Klaus wouldn't love me the way he does now, for all I know another woman could catch his eye and he would leave Luna and I right back where we were. Alone.

It worried me more when Luna asked if Nik and Hope could live with us. It was something I know Nik had considered, he had spoken about it a couple times but we never really came to a final decision. However I had to think about that now.

Klaus was already adamant that I shouldn't have to work so much but the fear of him leaving, or worse...dying, made me cling onto my job for stability. I couldn't ever risk not having a roof over Luna's head and that meant never relying on anybody. I know Nik doesn't really understand that fear. He promises that, even though it won't ever happen, if we did break up then he would never let myself or Luna to be struggling.

"I could never do that to you" he promised after I told him of the thoughts that haunted my head.

"Not now maybe...but I don't know...what if something really bad happened?" I asked quietly and he frowned, cupping my jaw and kissing my forehead as we lay in my bed for the third night in a row while Luna and Hope had another sleepover a couple doors over.

"Nothing could ever be bad enough for me to do that" he whispered and I looked down as i traced meaningless shapes onto his bare chest.

"What if...what if you were killed or something?" I mumbled, wincing at the thought and memories.

"Then I would leave everything to you and you and Luna and Hope would be living like royalty" he murmured and I game him an unconvincing half-smile.

"Well...what if something happened to me?" I questioned and he went quiet, just looking at me for a moment before replying.

"Then I would raise Luna as well as I could, and we would think of you and love you always" he finally answered and I lay my head down against his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular.

“You have to promise…that even if you hate me, you can’t ever hate Luna” I whisper. His hold tightened on me and I was pulled as close as physically possible.

“I promise” he agreed as I closed my eyes as I tried to relax as much as I could.

I won’t lie, I had to be reassured more than I thought. I just couldn’t stop the worries.

But Klaus always had the perfect thing to say, he always made me feel safe and comfortable. He made Luna happy and he was a new beginning for both of us. Him and Hope were our family now, Always and Forever.

(I’m so sorry I didn’t add any smut or another addition…maybe I could make a part two and involve their family growing?? I think I got too invested in the emotional side when writing)

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communistchilchuck · 9 days

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I was asked to help share Maram's fundraiser. She is a young displaced Palestinian mother urgently raising money to evacuate she and her family from Gaza. She has only raised €225 out of her €30,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Maram's GFM:

‏Hi, my name is Maram. I am 28 years old. I am a Palestinian from Gaza City.A mother for 3 kids. This is my husband, Ahmed, and my children are Habiba, four years old, kareem, two years old, and Mohammad, nine months old. ‏My family and I went through very difficult circumstances in Gaza after October 7th ‏

It’s painful to say that we lost everything. But yes

we did! We lost our beautiful homeland with all its memories, we lost our job, we lost our lives and our dreams. We evacuated our house with only a small bag of clothes before it was bombed and destroyed. So technically YES we have lost EVERYTHING, from the biggest to the smallest little detail.

We have been displaced 6 times. My children left our home for the first time and moved to another home, and then we moved with the family to another, less safe home. Then the army ordered us to flee to southern Gaza, so we fled to the ground, then we ended up fleeing to a small tent and sleeping on the sand. ‏

My family suffers from a lack of food, especially ‏the children. My child, Mohammed, who is 9 months old, ran out of breast milk due to malnutrition, and the price of infant formula has doubled. Kareem and Habiba saw the simplest thing that could be available to children, which is apples, so they screamed and cried, wanting an apple, but the price of one apple reached 10 dollars or more!! ‏In addition, there was also a lack of healthy drinking water, which caused them severe stomach pain and diseases such as hepatitis A.

‏Due to the conditions imposed by the occupation, the siege, and the lack of resources, it has become difficult for my family to provide the children with basic and simple needs, such as diapers. It is difficult to provide all the needs, and due to the poor quality of the types of diapers available, my children suffered from a skin problem ‏ My family also suffers from not having a bathroom or even a shower. We can only shower once a month using a bucket due to lack of water. There is no electricity or gas either. ‏Every morning, I wash my children's clothes in cold water and spread the clothes out in the open air. If there is food, it is cooked on firewood, which is completely unhealthy and tastes bad. Me and my husband shared a beautiful life together. Our home was always filled with love and laughter. My children are the most precious thing I have in my life. ‏ Our lives were once full of dreams and hopes, but the never-ending cycle of conflict in Gaza shattered those dreams. Now our only goal is to survive. ‏ While others dream of the future, we long for the past, remembering the life we once lived before the horrors of war tore it apart.

‏I have hesitated to ask for financial assistance for several months, but the reality is that life in Gaza has become impossible in the near future. With schools destroyed and opportunities disappearing, our only chance for a better life lies beyond these borders. ‏ My only hope is to save my little family and we need €30,000 to make it out of Gaza, to start a new life from scratch. It is very difficult to leave homeland, but we are forced To get out of Gaza. Your kindness can make a big difference to us. Your donation, no matter how small, will help us escape the constant fear and uncertainty that has plagued our lives for so long. If you're not able to donate, simply sharing our campaign with your friends, family and social networks can also have a huge impact. ‏Together, we can give my children the opportunity to grow up in a world free of the horrors of war. Your kindness will help us build a brighter future and restore hope to a family that has endured so much suffering. ‏ Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your sympathy and support! Your contributions will not only change our lives, but will also provide hope to countless people affected by similar circumstances.

#palestine #free palestine #gaza

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chaoticloving · 1 year

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idk if you write smut so if you’re uncomfortable totally ignore this!!! but!!! imagine y/n and recently fiance!harry and him fingering you with his ring finger talking abt marriage and shit 🫣🫣

future husband

Harry styles x reader (masterlist)

summary: Harry proposes and it leads to sex

warnings: smut

a/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK TOO LONG I JUST NEEDED TO BE IN THE RIGHT MOOD TO WRITE SMUT AND THEN TUMBLR DIDNT PUT IT IN THE TAGS AHHH

Harry's ring obsession started when he was in his early twenties.

He rarely wore any type of a jewelry or anything flamboyant when he was younger. He painted his nails on occasion, something to relax himself with or whenever Y/n was doing hers, but nothing too grand.

But a simple silver chain given by his one and only changed that.

He started getting a little more into jewelry, necklaces, earrings, and his favorite, rings. He liked the intricate designs that rings ment; they could be loud and a stable piece, or they could be a subtle addition to the outfit.

They could also symbolize love.

After dating Y/n for three months, he knew he was certain that he wanted to stay forever with her, he just didn't allow himself to think of marriage this early into a relationship--at least not until his mother asked when he was going to propose after meeting her around their six-moth anniversary.

Finally though, after just under two years, he popped the question. He got a beautiful engagement ring, a band with beautiful engravings throughout, and of course, a huge fucking rock.

"Harry." Y/n sniffled, seeing Harry on his knee, ring in hand. "Of course, yes!"

A lovely proposal in a quiet and quant cottage away from civilization was perfect and exactly what they needed, not only for their privacy but for the ability to have sex in the middle of the woods. Harry bought this property not too long ago and waited for the right moment to take Y/n there, a proposal seemed like the best time.

The kissing of course led to more, how could it not? Harry was always a passionate lover, always eager to please, so it was honestly no surprise when the soft kiss turned more sensual.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you finally asked." Y/n mumbled softly as their lips kept touching, coming back for more. "Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you as my husband."

Harry moved onto her neck, biting softly as he went down. "It's all I've ever wanted." He groaned as Y/n's hand trailed down to his pants, she teased him slightly, earning a moan from him. "And to please you again. Lay down."

Y/n made herself comfortable on the blue and white picnic blanket. Harry moved the basket and wine bottles out of the way. He pulled flipped her dress up, revealing her lacy set on panties.

"Planning to seduce me today?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I had a hunch you might be asking me to marry you." She shrugged her shoulders, biting her lip to hide, poorly, a cheeky smile.

"How?" Harry gasped, his fingers tracing the band of her underwear. "It was top secret!"

"Oh come on, H." She giggled, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "You take me on a surprise getaway, no one around, to a cottage that is darling... It's the most romantic thing you have ever done."

Harry blushed. The midday sun gleaming perfectly on his skin, twinkling his green eyes and highlighting the freckles that scattered his slightly tanned skin. Y/n couldn't help but feel so lucky. This beautiful man, inside and out, is now her fiancé; she started to tear up, which, of course, caused Harry to tear up as well.

"No don't start baby." She told him. "We need to focus so we can have sex. No tears now."

She wiped her tears then Harry's. "You started it." He mumbled, smiling as he finally pulled her panties down. "We just love each other too much."

"I guess so-" Y/n gasped as Harry entered a figure into her. The familiar feeling was welcomed as the subtle feeling of pleasure began to buble up inside of her. "Fuck that feels so good."

Harry was leaning half on and half off of her, his right hand fingering. her while his other held him up so he could kiss by her ear.

"Don't get one of your rings stuck in me." She warned, looking sternly at her love. Harry shook his head and kissed her softly.

"I would never."

Harry had on a simple band, one similar to the new one adorned on Y/n's finger. He figured while he was buying the engagement ring he could buy a matching one for himself.

"I can't wait to marry you." He spoke softly, creating a new hickey just under her ear lobe. "Gonna wanna fuck you again when I see you in that dress, don't know if I could wait till the honeymoon."

He added a finger, adding to the pleasure.

"And seeing you with that ring...It's going to be as sexy as your lingerie. Just knowing you're mine and I'm the only one that can ever see you like this."

"Fuck, H. Gonna come."

"I'm the only one who will get to see my wife like this. And everyone will know I can only to this do you...I'm the only one capable." Harry's words were possessive yet reassuring, the constant validation that he was the only one for her pushed her over the edge, leaving a gasp from her mouth.

"Har I need you inside." She yanked him fully on-top of her, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down after Harry quickly pulled his fingers out of her, but not before a little taste.

He helped her strip himself, knowing she is just as possessive as him but just doesn't always vocalize it, but her actions speak louder than her lack of words.

Harry entered Y/n, the euphoric feeling washing over him as he let out a loud moan, mentally thanking himself for buying the isolated land. "Feel so good."

"You stretch me out so much." She gasped. "My future husband."

Harry thrusted, a reflex from her words in her sexy, faint, voice. "Don't say that or else I'm going to come in less then a minute." He paused, staring into his loves eyes. "Want to impress my future wife."

"You impress me every day. Every time I see you I have something new I love about you." Y/n leaned in a kissed him, it was mainly teeth, but still perfect nonetheless. "Today it's your cock."

Harry stopped thrusting briefly. "You mean it hasn't impressed your before today?"

"It's the first time I've been impress by my fiancé's cock, I was already impressed when he was my boyfriend." She assured. Harry rolled his eyes and got back to thrusting, moving his ring finger down to her core and rubbing soft circles on her clit, making her jolt slightly.

"I'm gonna cum again, H."

"Me too."

They both moaned as they climaxed at the same time. Harry collapsed onto Y/n's chest, arms exhausted from keeping himself up. They stayed like that for no more then five minutes, Harry's cock softening inside of her as they relaxed.

"I can't believe you're going to be my wife." Harry thought out loud. "Never thought I'd work up the courage."

"Why? You knew I'd say yes."

"I dunno, just all the what-if's got inside my head. You know how that is." Harry mumbled, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. He kissed over her blooming hickeys too, soft contrast between his sexual and romantic desire for her.

"Well your next biggest concern is finding were to go for our honeymoon." Y/n said. "Might have to go all over."

"I'll pay for every penny of it."

"Most defiantly. You know I have expensive taste." Y/n joked. "The wedding is going to cost half a fortune on its own."

Harry smiled, kissing her cheek then her lips. "I'd spend all the money in the world to make you happy. I'd go broke to see you smile."

"Stop, you're going to make me cry again." She whispered, tears starting to form.

"I'll just kiss them away, my love." He sighed. "It's my job as your future husband."

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one direction #bf!harry styles #husband!harry #husband!harry styles #harry styles fic #fiance!harry #fiance!harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x fem!reader

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sarawritestories · 24 days

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Love Story (All To Well Chapter 1 Part 1)

Cassian X OC (Rhys' Sister), Eris VanserraX OC Rhys' Sister (Eventually)

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, dub con, whipping, poisoning, murder (I think this covers it if I missed something please let me know). Longing for loved ones, while in captivity.

A/N: This was going to be extremely long if I didn't break this up in two parts and I really wanted to get something out to you since I had been teasing this so much!

Word Count: 4.1K

All Too Well Masterlist ACOTAR MasterList

Romeo Save Me

“Hello Beautiful,” Amarantha cooed, circling around Rhysand's baby sister, Estella. The raven haired female held her chin high. “Rhysand, you didn't tell me you had a sister.” Estella's eyes glanced over to her brother. If he was panicked he didn't show it. Amarantha tsked, “Naughty boy, no matter she'll make a fine addition to the court.” Amarantha purred as her eyes grazed the black gown the Princess of the Night Court wore. The silver chains connected the two pieces of fabric at her hips revealing her toned, tanned legs, the neckline dipping to expose her stomach. A tiara of black and purple gems placed upon her head. An outfit she wore in the Court of Nightmares.

Did you know about this? Estella questioned her brother in the part of his mind he kept open for her.

If I did do you think I would have brought you here. Cassian begged me not to. I should have listened.

Amarantha snapped her fingers and the young princess felt hands grip her arms tightly, as fear flooded her system as the dreaded footfalls of the attor came into her line of sight.

Rhys…

I'm here, Little Star.

Estella glanced at the Attor's talon like hand. Faebane. Estella pressed her lips in a tight line, Rhys I'm scared.

She glanced over at his face and found no emotion there, the tick of his jaw the only indication that he was worried. Stay calm. I'm here, Stella. Just breathe.

Before Estella could take in a breath the Attor pinched her nose and instantly she began to struggle in the guards arms. The Attor's smile was sinister and would be the center of the young heir’s nightmare's to come. “Come now, Princess, open for me.

Estella, refused to open her mouth, her piercing blue eyes met the Attor's in pure defiance. Breaking eye contact she looked back to her brother to find Amarantha had wrapped her arms around Rhys pressing his back to her front as if it were a lover's embrace. “Come dear, don't be stubborn, or I may have to punish my new treat here.” She dragged a manicured finger down her brother's exposed chest and Estella maintained eye contact with the self proclaimed High Queen, as she nibbled his ear. To Rhysand's credit he didn't react to her advances he just stared at his Little Star.

Estella's lungs began to burn and her vision began to blacken around the edges and she opened her mouth to take her breath. Wasting no time the Attor poured the liquid down her throat, still pinching her nose as she had no choice but to swallow.

“Wonderful, guards take her away.” Estella watched as she planted a kiss on his cheek another tick in his jaw as they began to haul her away. “Don't worry Rhysand, We'll make sure she is comfortable and well taken care of.”

Before she let the panic settle in her bones she reached out to Rhysand once more; Rhys we need to put up the wards. Keep Velaris safe. Keep him safe. We have to do it before the faebane takes effect.

On my count Rhys voice echoed through there she could feel the beginning of the Faebane taking effect.

1…2…3…

Estella threw out her power to siphon the wards, draining to the dregs and she could hear the pounding of her shields. A familiar presence in the back of her mind.

Cassian she spoke in his mind.

Stella sweetheart, what's going on? His voice sounded distant in her mind as the poison was taking hold and she was being hoisted away.

It'll be okay. I'll be okay. Watch over Velaris for me won't you, General?” The young heir could feel her power suppressing itself. As if her power was trying to combat the drug coursing through her veins.

No I'm coming to get you his voice roared through Estella's mind though it sounded as though he was talking to her underwater. She fought back tears that were stinging in her eyes.

I love you, Cassie. Then she felt the connection being severed and she allowed herself a few tears escape her eyes as she was ripped away from her home, her family, her lover.

We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

“I don’t want to train.” Estella whined dragging her feet as Rhys held a firm grip on her hand as they approached the camp.

Frustration bubbling over Rhys turned around and gently cupped her cheeks. “My Little Star, I love you, I promised Father, Mother, and Astrea that I would protect you.” Estella fought her flinch at the mentioned, of their dead family members. Rhys tenderly brushed a strand of hair that fell loos from her plait and tucked it behind her pointed ear. “I almost lost you once. I won't let it happen again. Could you please try training with my friends? If you don't like it, then I'll leave it alone. I just need you to try.”

Estella quirked a brow as she stared into his pleading violet eyes. With a roll of her eyes and dramatic sigh she replied, “Promise?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Promise.”

With a slight tilt of her head, Rhys led her to the two Illyrian warriors that were standing at the center of the fighting ring. The young heir had yet to meet her brother's friends but had heard stories about his “brothers.” The two were giants compared to her, both warriors wore seven siphons a piece. The shorthaired one with blue siphons, Estella had seen in passing in Velaris before her brother became High Lord, his shadows were hard to ignore. She had never uttered a word to the Shadowsinger but heard his name whispered by the maids in their home: Azriel.

The warrior with the red siphons had his hair up in a bun, his wings rustled as the wind kissed them. His hazel eyes met her pale blue eyes and gave her a toothy grin that caused her heart to quicken. “Finally nice to formally meet the Princess of Velaris.” His deep voice seeped into her bones and warmth pooled in her belly.

Estella then scrunched her nose, “Don't call me that.”

The long-haired Illyrian smirked stalking forward, causing Estella to crane her neck to hold his pointed gaze. “What would you have me call you, Sweetheart.” Heat warmed her cheeks at the pet name.

“I'll call you a dead male, if you keep staring at my sister like that, you prick.” Azriel snorted at Rhys' response. “Stella, the shameless flirt in front of you is Cassian. The stoic one fighting his laughter is Azriel. I'm sure you've seen him around. Gentlemen, this is Stella.”

Cassian's leather clad hand picked up Estella’s and brought her knuckles to his lips, “A pleasure, Sweetheart, if you're ever tired of big brother Rhysie, come find me and we can play.” Rhys growled, as Cassian gave the young female a wink. She gave him a smile in return, then averted her gaze to focus on anything else.

Maybe training wouldn't be so bad after all.

I Got Tired of Waiting

A hand grazed Estella's waist. Sipping from her goblet staring at the High Queen, wearing the Night Court tiara that she ripped from the Princess' head when they first arrived 49 years ago. A male from the summer court pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Warm my bed tonight, Angelfish.” His breath was sour, and Estella took a sharp breath as his hand gripped her barely covered ass.

She turned into his touch, breaking her gaze from the queen who was kissing her brother's neck. Placing her hand on the male's bare tanned chest, “It would be my honor.” She gave her best seductive grin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Bile rose in her throat, a feeling she had grown accustomed to since being there.

The male gripped her ass tighter, “I will retrieve you from your cell when I'm ready for you.” He whispered on her lips as if he was her lover. Another wave of nausea burned her esophagus as he pressed his lips to hers once more. A warm memory of kind Hazel eyes, calloused hands with red siphons atop them, and soft plush lips caressing hers bubbled to the surface. Estella forced the memory back down as the male swatted her bare flesh and walked away.

“Stella dear,” Amarantha's drawl felt like a snake slithering up Estella's spine. The young female met the Queen's gaze, her brother by her side his face a mask of cool indifference. “Come here.” Gritting her teeth the heir of the Night Court approached the dais her chin jutted out, the tiara on her head gleaming with the colors of her court. Trying to keep a semblance of dignity, though Amarantha's insistence that the top that only covered her breast and the gossamer skirt that barely covered her ass made her feel less than.

With the snap of the queen's fingers a male approached with a female their hands linked. Estella bowed, aware that her skirt was revealing more than she wished to the fae behind her. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Rise, dear, I have a gift for you.” Estella rose and the couple with their hands linked together smiled in her direction.

Breathe, Little Star Rhys' voice filler her head, Inhale she breathed in, Exhale she released the breath.

“This couple,” Amarantha's voice bellowed out, “Wishes for someone to join them in their bed this evening. You will go and they will do as they please with you.”

Shock flooded her system, so that was what her role was to be concubine…Cassian's face came to the surface and guilt laced her whole body. He will understand, Stella. We are not in a position to fight this.

Bullshit. The princess shook her head, “I will not, your majesty.” She held her head high. I cannot betray him like this, I will not. I'm sorry, Rhys.

Estella! Rhys scolded

Amarantha sneered, “I don't recall it being a request.”

Estella straightened her spine, “I don't care,” she retorted defiantly. “I will not lay down in someone's bed for their amusement.”

Amarantha rose from her throne her dark crimson skirts draping to the floor similar to blood dripping down a body. The Queen approached and Estella refused to cower. Amarantha approached her mouth upturned into a saccharine grin that appeared the most sinister. “Are you defying my direct orders, Princess?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very Well, Rhysand, bring me the Ash whip.” Color drained from Estella’s face. Her brother approached whip in hand and his mouth formed into a tight line. “Thank you, now you will give her 10 lashes for her disobedience.” The siblings heads whipped to the evil witch next to them. “Is that going to be a problem, Rhysand. I figured she would learn her lesson best if it was given to her by someone she cares for. Wouldn't you agree?”

Estella then met Rhysand's eyes, “I do, Your Majesty.” Turn around and close your eyes, Little Star. She did as Rhys told her and the crack of the whip wrung out in the entire hall. With each sting of whip against her skin, and whimper that slipped from her mouth, Rhys’ voice rang in her mind.

I'm Sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

By the end Amarantha had ripped the crown from atop of her head, and the couple had carried her to their room and in spite of her bleeding back, had taken her, over and over again, until she passed out from the pain, where hazel eyes and dark long hair greeted her.

Romeo Take Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Estella sat up as the male swiped lazy circles around her stomach, “Would you like some tea?” She asked placing her hand on top of his stalling the movements.

The male hummed his eyes glazed from his orgasm. “That would be wonderful, Angelfish.” He gave a lazy smile that the young female returned and rose to gather her clothes and began preparing him a cup of tea. “Amarantha is generous to share you.” He praddled on as Estella placed the kettle over the flame, grabbing her tea mixture she made a few weeks prior. “I know she has her own whore that warms her bed.” Estella clenched her teeth as he kept talking, “Only to give the court his sister. Truly a gift.”

Estella closed her eyes as she schooled her voice in a calm manor, “I am happy to serve my queen and my court in whatever way is needed.” The words fell to ash on her tongue and tears burned her eyes as the kettle sung to life. Grabbing the kettle she brought it over to the cup with the tea mixture in it. Pouring the hot water and letting the tea steep for 2 minutes, Estella brought the tea to the male, “Here you go, Darling,” She purred. She slipped into his mind easily his mental shield down, Drink all of it for me. The male did as he was told and she cooed in his ear, “Good boy.” She ran her fingers through his light brown curls as his eyes began to droop.

A half hour went by, and Estella leaned over the male’s face, and found that his breathing had ceased and she could no longer hear his heartbeat. She patted his cheek, “This has been fun, Angelfish.” She got dressed and snuck out of his room and ran right into a finely dressed chest. She looked up and inwardly groaned, “Eris.” Estella tried to step around the Heir of the Autumn court when he stepped in front of her.

He smirked his russet eyes that glimmered with mischief, “Hello, Estella. Tell me how my Little Viper is, today?”

She glared at him, “I thought I told you not to call me that, Princeling.”

Eris grinned, “Well I can’t help myself. Tell me who was your victim today.”

Estella sighed, “No one of importance.”

Eris eyes darkened his fist clenched for a moment, “I highly doubt that.”

The princess of Night lowered her head slightly, “If I’m not back in my cell, I could be subject to a lashing so if you don’t mind, your highness.”

Eris slid out of her way, “Have a good night, My little Viper.” Estella shivered but moved past the red-haired Prince, without another word. winding the halls to her cell. Not noticing the Autumn prince sneaking into the room she came out of.

She arrived in her cell, and she found Rhysand standing in the middle of it. “Hey, you.” she said as she stepped onto the threshold of her prison.

“Hey, Little Star. How are you faring?” Rhys looked her up and down, assessing for injuries.

“Fine as always brother,” She got jittery and despite needing to put on appearances she hugged him. He wrapped her arms around her tightly. “I’m exhausted Rhys.” She whispered into his chest.

He pressed his hand to the back of her head and rocked her, “I know. I’m so sorry. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret trying to get you home. Or never bringing you to the Hewn City that day.” He whispered into her hair.

I miss them, Rhys. I miss him.

I know you do. I miss them too. “Tomorrow is Calanmai. Amarantha has granted me to leave.” Estella pulled away from her brother to stare at him and he read her face and shook his head speaking into her own, I can’t risk you being hurt because I attempted to escape. I won’t do it. It’s bad enough I have had to hurt you.

I don’t blame you; you know. She whispered in her mind.

I do…She makes me fuck her with your crown on...

Estella stilled at the brashness of his words, “Rhys...”

He hushed her as he kept her in his arms, “It’s okay.”

Will you stay with me tonight?

I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Rhysie, please. Estella smiled slightly as he sighed.

I can’t deny you anything. Brat.

Rhys led her to the pile of hay in the corner of the cell and laid her down. The princess pressed her cheek against his heartbeat and Rhys began to rub her back. The two siblings sat in silence for a few moments. “Can you play the music for me, Rhys?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Sure thing. Close your eyes.”

Estella closed her eyes, “I love you.” Music began to play inside her mind, the musicians at the rainbow began to build their symphony and tears welled in her eyes.

Rhys’ voice was strained as he responded, “I love you too. Sleep. I will be here in the morning.”

Estella was beginning to be pulled into slumber when she mumbled, “No one likes a liar, Rhys.” And she fell unconscious to the sounds of her brother chuckling.

Beggin You Please Don’t Go

“You are not leaving this bed!” Cassian pulled her waist dragging her back closer to him the warmth of his bare tattooed chest seeping into her bones. “I don’t need to leave for Windhaven until tomorrow. It’s cruel that Rhys would prevent you from spending the rest of today with me.” He kissed her cheek hips moving down the slope of her neck. “I want to be with my girl.”

Estella giggled as he nibbled her neck, his hands clinging to her waist tightly as if the General of the Night Court Armies were afraid, she would slip from his fingers. “Cass, I need to make an appearance in Hewn City. Apparently, Rhys has been getting shit for it from Keir.”

Cassian turned her to face him. He caressed her cheek gently, “I could care less about Keir. I hate it when you’re there when I can’t be.”

“Because you’re an overprotective bat?” Estella quirked a brow and smirked that the general pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled and kissed her nose, “No, you brat. I just don’t want to be separated from you. Especially when you’re in a place with cruel males that look at you like you’re their next meal.”

She looked laughed, “So an overprotective bat.”

Cassian’s grin was laced with mischief, “Overprotective bat?” He began to tickle the young raven-haired female. Her laughs filled their shared space, “I’ll show you an overprotective bat.” He pinned her back to the mattress and continued her assault on her waist, his fingers tickling her to the point of tears sliding down her eyes. He began pepper kisses over her face picking up her tears.

“Cassian, I yield.” Estella panted and she tapped her hand on his forearm. He stopped and leaned down pressing his forehead to hers. “I yield.” She whispered.

“I can’t help being protective you know.” He whispered in return. There was a long-delayed pause, his eyes growing distant.

Estella growled, “Had I known you wanted Rhys’ attention so bad I would have shifted into him.” Cassian shook his head and flicked her nose and she smiled, “What did he say?”

Cassian sighed as he pressed his lips to hers, “That I can beat the shit out of him when you both come home.”

Estella’s brow furrowed, “I never wanted you two to be at odds, Cass.”

Cassian smiled and interlaced his large hand over hers, “Sweetheart, we have been friends for centuries, he’s stuck with me.” He kissed her nose once more, “Just like you are.” He grinned and she found herself smiling too. “I love that smile of yours.”

She tilted her head, “What else do you love about me?”

Cassian kissed her forehead, “I love your eyes,” He kissed her cheek and Estella closed her eyes. “Your lips.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Your kindness,” He pecked her jaw line, “Your compassion.” His lips moved to her neck, “Your bravery,” moved to the collarbone. “You, Sweetheart. I love you.”

The princess opened her eyes, “I love you too, Cassian.”

And I love you two, as well, but Cassian please get off my sister we must leave soon. Rhys’s voice filled our minds and the two of us laughed as Cassian placed another kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be home before you’re able to miss me, General.” Estella whispered.

Cassian sighed and placed his head in the crook of her neck. “I always miss you, Stella.”

You Were Everything to Me

The human girl was hanging against the wall, her fear flooding her scent. This was the human girl that Rhys had found in Tamlin’s court. Estella had a hard time breathing. As the Attor unleashed another attack on the girl. Rhysand was standing by Amarantha, his face emotionless, and Estella wanted to scream to lash out, to save this girl from the torment. She wrapped her arms around herself, as the screams of the human girl rang out.

Estella released a whimper when a smooth warm hand gripped the female’s hip. The scent of Autumn leaves and cinnamon overtook her senses. His thumb rubbed a circle around her bare hip. “Come to my chambers tonight, Little Viper.” Eris breath grazed her pointed ear.

Estella gritted her teeth, fighting away the tears as the sound of the broken screams rang in her ears while the Attor continued his torment, “Why? Why do you insist on tormenting me, Eris? Mor wasn’t enough for you?”

Eris’ hand stilled, his nose grazed her skin, and her heart raced. “What do you know about that day, really, My Little Viper?” He held her close to him, “I expect you in my chambers when this is done, Estella. I mean, immediately after, no getting those cute little concoctions from your cell first. Or I may let our High Queen know about what you like to do to the males who request your services.” He gripped her hip tighter than her and smirked as a spark of arousal flooded her. The feeling singed away when he removed his hand, and Estella reluctantly missed the comfort of his touch, as the human girl gave out a gurgled scream, causing the young female’s blood to run cold.

Hours of torment and Estella knew that those screams would haunt her forever. Her bare feet padded through the halls as an Autumn court sentinel led her to the Heir of Autumn’s chambers. When they reached the door Estella bowed her head, “Thank you.” She whispered and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Eris’s voice muffled. The raven-haired beauty stepped inside, the red gown with a blunging neckline swished at her feet. “Hello, Viper.”

“Prick.” She retorted; her sharp blue eyes met his copper liked ones. “Let’s get this over with.” She began to pull the straps of her gown down when Eris raised his hand.

“I have no interest in sleeping with you Viper.” Eris rose from his chair; his orange vest lay over top his white tunic hugging his frame. His tanned pants tucked into his brown boots that looked as though they were recently shined. His red hair pulled halfway, and Estella couldn’t deny that he was the most beautiful man she had ever encountered, but he was a wild card and lethal and made Estella’s heartbeat erratically when he closed the distance between them. “I would like to keep my life intact thank you.”

Estella swallowed and her voice low, “Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

Eris didn’t answer, instead his hands gripped hers and he pulled her into an embrace. The female blinked as Eris gripped her tightly. The kind gesture so foreign to her from anyone other than her brother in 50 years and the emotions erupted in her. She gripped the back of his vest and buried her face in his chest and erupted into sobs. Estella had no idea why he was doing this, or how he knew she needed this, but for this moment she allowed herself the comfort of letting out a half a century worth of feelings into his chest. As Eris rested his head atop hers, hand stroking her dark hair. His other hand rubbing her back almost soothingly.

After a few moments Eris picked her upholding her knees and her back and walked her over to the bed and he leaned against the headboard as the Princess of the Night Court sobbed into the chest of the Prince of the Autumn Court. The latter whispered soothing words in her ear and warmed his hands as an extra comfort for the Princess until exhaustion took over and the viper fell asleep in the arms of the fox.

Part 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian x oc #rhysand sister #eris vanserra #eris acosf #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra acotar #Spotify

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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 4

A/N: Confrontation time. Here we go, y'all. I'm tagging this as borderline non-con for the ending. It steps into some murky territory that some may feel uncomfortable with. But hey, we're dealing with AA, after all. I'll also be linking a post reference within the text here; please click the link when you see it! It'll help you visualize a certain part. 🌝 Thank you all for the support thus far! I hope you enjoy reading ❤️

Rating: Explicit Word count: 7.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (named) Warnings: 18+, non-con (somewhat; literally touches the border of it), absolutely dubcon, mentions of pregnancy, mention of virginity loss, loss of innocence, manipulative behaviors, toxic relationship, discussions of death and murder, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, PiV sex, PiV sex while pregnant, blood drinking, mother-fuckin' vampire sex boiiiiiiiiii (sorry these tags are way too serious and I am not)

Summary: Tav arrives at the Crimson Palace, poised for a confrontation with Astarion. A delicate dance ensues.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust as she enters, but once they do, the sight before her nearly robs her of all speech and reason.

Illuminated by candelabras, Tav gasps in awe at the renovations to the interior of the manor. The once drab and outdated decor has been ripped out, heart and soul, and replaced with… white. So much white.

White walls, white marble flooring with golden accents, tall white marble columns. A generous crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, Tav looking up. Her vision comes down to settle on the plush red carpet lining the foyer, stretching through the hall and into the ballroom. The reflection of the candlelight shimmers along the marble floors. A sunset on the water… Tav notes offhandedly to herself.

A commemoration to their moment of triumph over the Absolute.

They all stood atop the dock watching the sun set over the horizon, sunlight glinting off the sea. The moment the tadpole vanished, Astarion became free. Truly and completely free.

A life regained, a future unwritten.

Reborn anew.

As she continues to drink in the new additions to the palace, Tav sees a figure approach from the corner of her eye. She turns her head to observe an older human woman making her way down the carpet, a smile set upon her slightly wrinkled face.

“Good evening, young miss,” the woman greets with a short bow. “Have you come to ask for an audience with Lord Ancunín?”

Tav remains silent for a moment as she quickly gives the woman a glance over. Gray hair with a time-worn face, albeit one that still shows the beauty she once beheld. She wears a simple long black dress with long sleeves, a white apron tied around her waist. Her shoes are black with a big metal buckle adorning the top of each. “I beg pardon for my current appearance,” the woman offers, giving the apron a quick pat down. “It isn’t often we have visitors this time in the evening.”

“No…” Tav begins, voice trailing off as she regroups her thoughts. “Not an audience, no. I’m…” Her chest thumps as she ponders their relationship. “...A friend of Astarion's. Is he home?”

“The young Master is in, yes; though I'm afraid he's currently occupied.” As if sensing Tav’s disappointment, the woman questions, “May I ask who you are?”

Tav nods her head respectfully. “I'm Tav.” The woman quirks a questioning brow. “Tavaria,” she adds quickly. “I was a traveling companion to Astarion over a year ago.”

And much more…

A spark shoots across the woman's vision and Tav recoils backward, readying herself.

“Ah!” the woman exclaims joyfully, “Lady Tavaria!” The woman bows earnestly. “Lord Ancunín extends his warmest greetings to you. Welcome to the Crimson Palace.”

With a smile, Tav softens her stance. She bows in return. “Thank you. It's… definitely different than before,” she comments while looking around the room.

“Ah, yes,” the woman agrees, “Master Astarion has renovated the manor to his distinct liking after the untimely passing of its prior occupant.”

“I see,” Tav states with a laugh. “This is all… very Astarion.” Elegant and refined.

All for show.

Continuing her observation of the room, a painting hanging on the middle wall catches Tav's eyes. She walks toward the painting, stopping just in front of it.

It's a black and white piece, looking to have been drawn in charcoal, depicting a man and woman sharing an intimate embrace. Both are naked, the woman's face obscured by her pose as she bows her back while offering her throat to the man. His head rests within her neck, his long black hair flowing down his back. The accompanying piece focuses solely on the man. The lustful look demonstrated in the man's half-lidded eyes as he looks up from the woman's throat has Tav shaking where she stands.

She's seen that look before. Not unlike how Astarion has looked at her.

The servant woman smiles, still standing in the same spot, clasping her hands together. “You must be exhausted, dearie,” she says, cutting through the silence. “Shall I direct you to your chambers?”

Tav blinks rapidly and turns her head to the woman. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘my chambers?’” She shakes her head with a short laugh. “I don't live here.”

“But of course, my lady,” offers the servant. “Master Astarion has asked that we offer it as an option should you ever visit the manor.” She nods her head with another beatific smile. “There is no obligation. It is simply a kind gesture.” She bows, courteously, “My apologies for any offense I may have given, Lady Tavaria.”

Tav nods briefly, turning away from the woman as her mind races. He made me a bloody bedroom? She lifts her head and once again finds the picture on the wall. A chill travels up her neck as she locks eyes with the intense gaze of the man in the painting. Her breath hitches.

“Do you know when Astarion will be available?” Tav asks hurriedly, looking toward the woman.

The servant shakes her head. “I'm afraid I do not, though I can set you up in the study while you wait?” Smiling again, the woman walks across the room to a set of double doors on the far right. She opens them wide and gestures to Tav, welcoming her to enter.

Clutching her satchel, Tav walks through the threshold and into the office. It's rather standard when compared to the rest of the manor; dark green carpeting and wood panel walls. Multiple bookcases that are carved into the walls, holding a plethora of tomes. A couple glass display cases are near the large window on the far side of the room. The evening sunlight pours in from the wide window and onto the chaise lounge adjacent to it; a relaxing spot for one who wishes to bask in the sun.

The solid, dark wooden desk across from the double doors has a number of loose papers strewn about the top. An ornate wooden chair sits behind the desk, purple velvet upholstery with golden Damask patterns lining the back and seat. Two simple royal blue armchairs sit before the desk, signaling the office’s likely use for business gatherings.

“Please, make yourself at home,” the older woman says from behind as she enters the room. She walks over to the desk and gathers the documents into a single pile. “Would you care for something to drink, my lady? I'd be happy to bring you something after informing Lord Ancunín of your presence.”

Tav turns her head in acknowledgement of the older woman. “I'm quite well, thank you.” She furrows her brow. “Though, I didn't catch your name before.”

The woman freezes momentarily before bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaims in embarrassment, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Where are my manners today?” She quickly bows. “Magdalena, my lady. A true pleasure to make your acquaintance. My sincerest apologies.”

“It’s quite alright, Magdalena. No harm done,” Tav says with a calming wave of her hand. She walks toward the grand window and turns to face the older woman again. “Thank you for your hospitality thus far. I’ll settle myself in.”

With a nod of her head, Magdalena begins to exit the study. “Of course, Lady Tavaria. I’ll inform Master Astarion of your presence at once.” The doors close behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, Tav is alone.

She removes the satchel from around her chest, depositing the bag onto the chaise lounge. Her hat and scarf are next to join as she shakes out her hair. Tav tries to look through the frosted glass window without success. The opacity is too intense to make out anything more than muddled blobs. Turning around, she begins to walk the perimeter of the room, stopping in front of a large glass display case with a large book resting within. The cover of the book is adorned with skin, stitched into the pattern of a screaming face. An amethyst jewel sits within the face’s open mouth. Tav recalls the long nights and early mornings Astarion spent reasoning with this book until finally uncovering its secrets.

The Necromancy of Thay.

Of course he kept it.

She continues on, noting each small trinket that sits within the shelves of the grand bookcases. Slipping her hands behind her back, Tav peers over the wooden desk and observes the pile of documents on top. She pops her head up to briefly scan the room. Satisfied that she has clear advantage, she takes a hand to swipe over the letters.

There are various invitations to grand balls in distant kingdoms, letters of gratitude from high nobles, bills of sale… Tav’s eyes widen as she spots a familiar name amongst the many signatures.

With deepest admiration, Araj Oblodra

Tav reaches over and picks up the letter off the desk, holding it steady with both hands as she skims through the contents. From what she gathers, it sounds as if Araj has learned of Astarion’s new circumstances. She’s highly apologetic for her past behavior and would very much like an opportunity to show her sincerest gratitude. The letter goes on further to imply that they take the chance to get to know one another better, and perhaps they can even become allies.

Tav scoffs as she places the piece of paper back down on the desk.

She resumes her roaming when she settles on a small jewelry case on the top left of the desk. Walking around the edge, Tav fixates on the case, a startled gasp slips past her lips as she recognizes the jewelry within.

Resting atop a red velvet cushion lay a golden ring with a turquoise stone in its center. One half of a matching set of rings she had found during their journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Tav was in possession of both rings for quite some time, going back and forth with herself about whether giving him one half would be too much.

She’d grown to like him; really-really like him, but she’d no idea if he felt the same. It wasn’t until the night of Astarion’s confession that Tav made her decision. Feeling the tension within his body as she wrapped her arms around his waist, yet fighting through his hesitation to return her embrace. It was enough to convince her that he truly did want to give them a try.

She presented the ring to him the following morning as they packed up camp.

“...A bit soon for a proposal, no?” quips Astarion, expression smug.

Tav stands before him. A ring with a golden aura lays within the palm of her hand, held out in silent offer. “N-no!” she stammers, the ghost of a blush tinting her cheeks. She averts her gaze as she says, “It's an enchanted ring.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow in question. “I can see that quite clearly, dear. But what does it do?”

Turning to look at him under her eyes, Tav replies shyly, “...It allows me to cast a special protection spell on you.” Her cheeks burn hot, her skin beginning to prickle.

His eyes darken as he leans forward. “Oh,” Astarion teases, voice velvet, “you wish to be my Knight?” He begins to move into her, hovering his lips just above hers. “You want to save a poor, innocent maiden such as I,” he coos. “Is that it, darling?”

They spent the majority of the following night rutting feverishly against one another, sharing a mutual need to scrub their underclothes in the river the morning after. From that point forward, each wore their respective ring around the fourth finger of the left hand.

Commotion outside the office brings Tav back to the present. She hears the voice of a woman, though not of the servant from earlier. Tav sneaks closer toward the doors, placing her ear to the wood to hopefully catch some of the conversation.

Still muffled, she thinks with a scowl. Drawing a deep breath in, Tav makes a quick split decision and grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it gently. She feels the lock unlatch and pulls the door open just enough to allow for a small sliver of visibility. Tav strains against the door as she tries to find a better angle.

A tall elven woman with long blonde hair stands in the foyer exchanging words with Magdalena. Dressed in professional attire, she hands the maid a business card as they exchange pleasantries. Tav catches the woman's head beginning to turn toward the direction of the office and Tav quickly steps out of sight, holding her breath, heart flying within her chest. A few moments pass without incident before Tav slowly inches toward the crack in the door. She finds Magdalena bowing as the elf takes her leave of the manor.

There isn't much time to ponder who this mysterious woman is – the sound of footsteps marching along marble flooring fills the air.

“Good evening, Master,” greets Magdalena, kneeling in a curtsy.

“Good evening, my dear.” A man's voice, deep and smooth. Perfectly poised. Her stomach lurches; she knows that voice.

Tav holds her breath as talk continues just beyond the door. She quickly scans the room to determine which is closer – the blue armchair sitting before the desk, or the chaise lounge near the window.

As the man's footsteps draw closer to the door Tav bolts for the armchair, sitting promptly. She adjusts herself to appear as if she's been waiting patiently for his arrival all this time.

“Odd that the door is already open,” Tav hears the man comment from just beyond the door.

Shit.

A flash of embarrassing heat crawls up her neck. Magdalena mutters something to Astarion under her breath, but it's too quiet for Tav to make out. The doors suddenly swing open and Tav remains still, trying desperately to settle the overactive current that is her nerves.

She smells him first before she sees him – the signature scent of rosemary, bergamot and brandy encompassing the quaint office. “Thank you, Magdalena. Now, please, carry on,” he says smoothly.

Tav hears the man begin to approach from behind, placing the palms of his hands atop her shoulders. “I’m sure you've done a fine job at making our Lady feel welcome, hmm?” He squeezes her shoulders, Tav flinching beneath his grasp.

Tav tries desperately to resist the urge to look at him. When she closes her eyes she envisions the sharpness of his jaw behind her mind's eye, coupled with the smell of his cologne that’s currently assaulting her senses – she simply cannot look at him. If she does, she's going to fall.

She'll forget about the murders. Forget how angry she is that he dared come to her in a state of blood-crazed lust. That she carries a child he knows nothing about, that he can never know anything about.

If she looks at his face, so perfectly sculpted by the Gods themselves, she's going to forget every reason as to why she should stay far, far away from this man. Longing for nothing more than to fall into his arms for the rest of eternity.

“Y-yes,” Tav replies, nervously. “You've been ever so kind, Magdalena. Thank you.” Finally, she turns, eyes meeting with the servant woman. Tav feels the pale elf's searing gaze upon her skin as she deliberately looks past him, the hands on her shoulders relaxing.

“Wonderful,” he sings with a wave of his hand. “Now leave us, Magdalena.” He walks around Tav, coming to lean against the lip of the office desk. “The Lady and I have much to discuss,” he purrs, leaning over as he places a hand upon her jaw. Slowly he tilts her face upright, staring directly into her eyes. “Isn't that right, love?”

Within an instant, she feels faint. An unsettling warmth begins to spread. “Yes, Astarion,” Tav murmurs softly as his fingers slip down her neck. Her eyes flutter closed as the hand inevitably falls free of her. Astarion slowly leans back and upright, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He breaks eye contact to focus on Magdalena.

The servant woman bows, closing the doors behind her with an audible ‘thud’ as she takes her leave. The room is silent then. Tav’s heart pounds in her ears as she stares beyond Astarion again, focusing on the ring box at the corner of the desk. She only realizes how rapidly she's breathing as the sound reaches her ears.

“Are you alright, dear?” Astarion’s smooth voice cuts through. “You look as though you've seen a ghost.”

Raising her head, Tav meets his eyes. He stands before her, concern written across his features. For a split second, Tav sees him – the dashing rogue she fell in love with.

The way Astarion is knitting his brow, wide glassy eyes studying her. It's all very much like him.

“I’m fine,” she forces out, swallowing hard.

“Did Magdalena offend you?” Astarion asks urgently.

Tav shakes her head. “No, she truly has been pleasant.”

He leans over her again. Astarion drags a finger delicately up the side of her cheek. “Then why do you cry?”

Immediately Tav raises a hand to her opposite cheek. Moisture coats her fingertips as she finds a stray tear rolling down her cheek. She’s unsure when or why she’s begun to weep, wiping the tear away with the back of her hand. Tav pulls herself out of Astarion’s touch with a slight groan.

“I-I’m fine, really,” she insists. ��I… came to see you.”

The vampire's expression softens as he tilts his head. “I haven't come to you in some time,” Astarion says, walking toward a carafe of wine sitting atop a metal cart near the window. “I apologize for that.” He speaks over his shoulder, pouring the wine out into a glass. He gestures with the carafe briefly to Tav; she shakes her head. “Although, I can't say I anticipated you showing up here.” Placing the carafe back down on the cart, Astarion turns, lips pulling into a smirk as he brings the wine glass to his lips. “Is it true then, what they say? Has absence made your heart grow fonder?”

Tav stands and turns to Astarion, giving him a full glance over. He wears a simple white dress shirt, the top few buttons undone revealing glimpses of his sculpted chest. His trousers are something she’s unfamiliar with – a type of woven cotton in a particular vertical design, and dyed blue. Indigo blue. He's wearing a black belt, threaded into loops within the pants around his hips. Tav imagines there's a fastener under the belt buckle, but also something else to help secure the garment. Something metal running down the front seam of the pants. Her eyes finish their course down his legs to find a simple pair of polished black loafers.

“...I'll take that as a yes,” Astarion comments with a quirk of his brow. He returns from across the room to once again take his place leaning against the desk in front of Tav, setting the wine glass down.

“N-no,” Tav blurts out, “I mean yes, but…” She feels the warmth of embarrassment crawl up her neck, nipping along her skin as it floods her face.

A hand rises to move her hair gently aside. Astarion leans forward and dips his head into the crook of her neck, planting chaste kisses along the tender flesh. “I missed you,” he whispers into her skin. Hot puffs of breath spread over her neck and Tav shudders. Almost instinctively, she raises her head to allow Astarion better access to her throat; her eyes flutter closed. His hand in her hair winds around the back of her head, gently guiding Tav’s head further to the side before falling to her hip.

Tav gasps as Astarion pulls their bodies flush against one another. His arousal has yet to awaken, though she can still feel the outline of him against her core. She groans as he rolls her hips into her again and again; slow, languid thrusts that have bolts of pleasure shooting up from between her thighs and spreading like wildfire through her body.

“Astarion…” Tav protests weakly, raising a hand to cover Astarion's on her hip. “I didn't come here for this.”

He purrs into her throat, gently nipping and teasing the skin around her scars with blunted teeth. “Oh, no? Are you sure?” Astarion pulls her into him again while imitating a piercing bite into her neck.

She moans, louder than she means to, finally feeling the rigidness of his cock firmly against her sex. Her head falls against his shoulder as he continues rolling his hips against her, hardly noticing Astarion moving his hand from her hip to her lower back. A spark of panic zaps through her addled mind as she realizes where this is heading.

“Y-yes, I'm sure,” she insists, somehow managing to pull herself out of Astarion's embrace. The room spins around her as she turns to face him. “There's something I wanted to discuss with you,” she says breathlessly, vision finally starting to clear.

His expression falls, replaced by smug dissatisfaction. “You came halfway across the city… just to talk?” asks Astarion, narrowing his eyes.

Tav nods her head in agreement. “Yes, it's something rather important.”

Astarion groans low in his throat, grabbing the glass of wine off the desk and walking toward the office window. He brings the crimson liquid to his lips and takes a strong sip. “You could have sent a damned pigeon, if that's all you wanted,” he snides over his shoulder.

“Not about this.” Tav feels her throat run dry as she speaks. Her lust has settled for now, replaced by the live wire of anticipation.

“About what?” Astarion growls defensively. He spins around, entire body leaning into his words. Like an animal being cornered.

Tav flinches reflexively. It’s rare that Astarion ever raises his voice to her, even during disagreements. She swallows, hardening her resolve. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

Astarion hisses through clenched teeth, taking another long drink from his wine glass. His face softens. “I'm sorry, love, but I'm having a very rough time ascertaining what could ever be so important that you felt the need to bring yourself here,” he gestures wildly to the floor below him, “to me, just to talk?”

She doesn't respond.

The tension eases from his form as he studies Tav, clearly shaken by his display. He sucks his teeth in defeat. “Oh, for the love of Shar’s cunt, fine,” he groans. “If you're going to look at me like that, then fine, I'll bite.” He comes to rest on the chaise lounge near the window, knees spread wide, his forearms resting over the tops of his thighs. “So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

Tav winces, looking down at her hands as she fidgets her fingers. He's being heavily sarcastic, though at least it's an invitation to continue. “...There was an article recently in the Gazette,” she begins, voice quivering. “That spoke of a murder within the sewers.”

Astarion scoffs. “Unsurprising for those cesspits, but do carry on.”

Her eyes shift momentarily to his face before falling back to the floor. “It's reported that there were five victims in total. Three had their throats slashed, while the other two…” her voice trails off as her throat tightens. Tav tries to swallow, but nothing goes down. Panic rises within her, adrenaline building.

“The other two what, dear?” Astarion's voice is dark, firm. He stands from his place on the lounge, walking slowly over to Tav. He stands before her, brows pulled together, his eyes cast down upon her face. A hand comes up to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me,” he demands.

She gasps, Tav finally saying with some hesitation, “They had fang marks… embedded in their throats. Resembling the scars I bear.” She blinks. “The ones you gave me,” she adds, quietly.

His eyes darken with malice as his face contorts. His grip on her chin tightens, forcibly lifting her head to the side to observe her branding. Astarion pulls in a full breath as he looks over her neck, mouth dropping open in an exasperated exhale.

“...Do you know anything about this?” Tav chokes out, eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

“And why would I know anything about that, hmm?” Astarion lowers his head into the crook of her neck, panting heavily against her skin. Tav shakes from their proximity. He then drags his lips up the side of her face, resting them against her ear. “I'm not the only monster lurking in the shadows,” he whispers.

The hand on her chin falls to her hip, guiding her gently toward the lip of the desk. “I know how you think of me, darling.” Tav sucks in a sharp breath as her backside bumps into the wood. “That I’m the big bad wolf coming to steal you away in the night.” Astarion buries his nose within her hair, inhaling deeply as he pulls their bodies flush together again.

“A-answer the question, Astarion,” Tav insists, her head beginning to cloud.

“Oh, but wouldn't you rather hear what I miss most about you, Tavaria?” he growls into her ear. “What memories play incessantly again and again in my mind?” Astarion grinds himself against her center again, coaxing a suggestive moan out of Tav. Her arms rise to encircle his neck, her resolve beginning to shatter.

“A-Astarion,” Tav whines desperately. “D-don’t…”

He drops his head to rest their foreheads together, lips practically touching. “I miss how you’d writhe in my lap as I'd drink from you,” Astarion confesses. He pulls at her bottom lip, suckling the flesh between his. “The way you flutter around my cock when you fall off the edge for me.” He kisses her more thoroughly this time, groaning softly into her mouth as Tav’s jaw slackens. “But, do you know what I miss above all else?” suggests Astarion, pulling back. He dips his head again into the nape of her neck, a hand rising to gently hold the opposite side of her face.

Tav grasps at the linen of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric within the palms of her hands. She's now rocking her hips in rhythm with his, a smoldering fire now roaring to life deep within her belly. Her body calls for him, and Tav wonders briefly if he can hear it.

The crazed beating of her heart? The lone song it sings only for him? The proof of their union that grows within?

“Your blood,” Astarion speaks against her skin. Suddenly he places his mouth over her scars and sucks voraciously, like a man starved. Tav moans, buckling at the knees momentarily. She grabs at his hair, threading her fingers deep against their roots for leverage. “Gods, there's nothing quite like the vintage of your blood,” he continues as he unlatches from her throat. The delicacy of her skin has given way to a mauve bloom; he smiles as he pulls away.

She shakes beneath him. If it weren't for the desk behind her, Tav would certainly collapse. He's trying to seduce her. Fuck her into submission – make her crave him so that she's more pliable, in whichever way he desires. These are his classic manipulation tactics, not unlike their humble beginnings.

“I know w-what you're doing, Astarion,” Tav says. “Don’t toy with me.”

He laughs – a quick condescending sound breaking free from his lips. “Oh, darling, you've been toying with me for months now. I'm very aware,” Astarion says with a smirk. He cranes his head. “Our dance is always the same – we fight, we kiss, and then I make the sweetest love to you as you weave your fingers between the very threading of my soul, ripping my heart free of my chest,” he adds with a sneer, pounding a fist over his heart.

Astarion pauses for a brief moment to stare at her. He pulls in a quick breath and his face softens. “And I let you, every time.” Tav gasps as the hand holding her face slides to her chin, fingers tracing the outline of her lips. “But you?” he continues, gesturing to a shelf on the wall behind them with a nod of his head, “You keep yours high on a shelf, completely out of reach. No matter how I clamor for it.”

Astarion releases her, hands entirely off her being as he steps back. “I lay myself bare for you every time. But you refuse to see it. Refuse to see me, beyond the glitz and glamor.” He knits his brow again, and Tav swears she sees a hint of moisture gather at the edges of his eyes. “Yet, I say nothing, because this is the only way you allow me to have you. And I’d rather have some of you than nothing at all.”

Silence blankets them both.

Has she been unfair to him? Cruel? Has she so sorely misjudged who he’s become? Tav shifts her gaze down to the floor as the questions mount. Maybe he isn’t this grand demon she’s characterized him to be. His talk of power and control after the ritual – perhaps it was a rush of emotions? The first taste of freedom after so many years of indentured servitude? He seems more settled now, not in so much of a rush to bend the entire city to his will.

Perhaps… she was wrong?

“So, may we skip straight to the finale?” says Astarion, distracting her from her thoughts, “Because I’m not quite sure how much more of this I can take.”

Her mouth hangs open, too stunned to speak. Tav looks up; she meets his eyes.

Maniacal laughter as he bathes in a glowing red aura of 7000 souls extinguished.

His face when the ritual was complete. The way he roared. How he laughed.

No, she's not wrong for mistrusting him. He's worse than a devil themselves.

They stare into one another's eyes, the tension swirling about the room thickening. Tav blinks; he still hasn't answered her question.

“You still haven't answered my question, Astarion.”

She stands firm.

He scoffs, turning his head toward the grand window. Astarion runs a hand over his face; he bites the top of a finger. “No,” he answers sternly, dropping the hand from his mouth. “I don't take particular interest in what happens within the bowels of this city.” He glances down at the fingernails of his closed fist, rubbing them across the front of his shirt. “My days of being a sewer rat are long gone, my dear.”

Tav winces. She's not entirely yet convinced. “Are you sure?”

Slowly, Astarion returns his attention to her. “Yes,” he growls low in this throat, “I am sure.” He tilts his head to the side as he lifts his brow. “Satisfied?”

Briefly she narrows her eyes, studying his face. Something about this… she's seen it before. He's pulled his face into an all-too-perfect expression. Not a muscle out of place.

“Yes, thank you,” she answers. Tav watches his liar’s mask slide off, replaced by a smug expression. He’s truly convinced he has her fooled.

How could she have ever loved such a horrid creature?

“Excellent,” Astarion hums as he clasps his hands. “Shall we return to more pressing matters?” His hands raise to caress the soft edges of her hips. He drops his face to her forehead, planting a soft, lingering kiss. Gently he rocks them together again.

He's turning this into his playground. His bargaining chip.

Sex. Lies. Manipulation.

He falls back on them every time. Seals every deal with the proposition of ‘a little death;’ wielding his body like a finely sharpened tool. In her case, if she doesn't play her cards carefully, Tav could very well be staring face to face with actual death.

“Of course,” she sings to him. “I wouldn't be truthful if I said I hadn't been thinking of this.” She smiles softly to him, in just the way she knows he likes – a smile that reaches her eyes. It's her turn to start dealing her hand.

And just as expected, Astarion folds.

Hands reach behind her knees, Astarion lifting her up and onto the top of the desk. Their kiss is hurried as he slots himself between her splayed thighs, his tongue entwining itself around hers. Astarion's hands travel up again, one landing on her waist while the other palms at a clothed breast. Tav arches her back, pushing her chest into his touch. She sighs as he continues massaging the tender mound, mewling into his mouth as he pulls teasingly at her nipple. Breaking the kiss, she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose. Her chest heaves as she tries to regain her breath.

Astarion releases her breast and slides his hand up to push the strap of her dress off her shoulder. “Lay down,” he commands with a whisper. Tav hesitates at first, but then moves slowly. She gently lays back onto the surface of the desk; the wood is cold against her exposed skin, sending a chill through her. Astarion leans forward, planting open-mouthed kisses to her neck and the newly exposed area of her shoulder. He travels down, suckling softly at the swell of her breast. She writhes beneath his touch as his hair tickles her chest.

“Ai armiel telere maenen hir,” says Astarion, kissing down the expanse of her abdomen. Tav grasps at silver locks, threading her fingers through Astarion’s hair as he begins hiking up her dress.

“You’ve said that to me before,” she pants heavily while stealing a look between her legs. An involuntary twitch ripples through her as he kisses the inside of her thigh. Tav feels him smirk into her skin.

“And still you’ve yet to seek out its meaning,” comes his prompt response. Astarion hooks his fingers into the hem of her undergarments, Tav lifting her hips enough for him to slide the fabric down her legs. They hang off one ankle as he resumes lavishing attention to her.

She arches off the desk as he kisses her mound, dipping his head momentarily to swipe his tongue teasingly up her slit. “W-uh, what d-does it mean?” she questions in a moan.

Astarion hums as he kneels before her spread legs. “You'll just have to find out for yourself,” he teases. Holding her legs open, he runs the flat of his tongue up her center, stopping to lavish her sensitive bud. He wraps his lips around her clit, suckling gently as he brings a hand to her entrance.

“What are you-” Tav exclaims, clearly panicked. Two of his fingers prod over her entrance, Astarion lightly teasing the tips in and out. Their eyes connect and he finally breaches forward, his eyes now rolling back into his skull as he continues lapping at her cunt. He curls his fingers, jerking his hand back and forth to pass over the intimate spot within. Tav’s vision begins to fill with searing white heat, her body writhing under him. He's bringing her closer and closer to release, and fast. More quickly than ever before.

“Gods, you taste even better than I remember,” he moans softly, adding fuel to the ever-mounting fire within her belly. Astarion kisses her opposite thigh, continuing the assault with his fingers. “Thiramen,” he says softly, sensing her proximity to the precipice.

The fucking Elvish. He surely hasn't forgotten the effect it has on her.

“D-don’t… not fair…” Tav whines, looking down between her legs as she runs her hands through Astarion's hair. Her thighs quake, the coil in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

Astarion meets her gaze, tongue once again passing over her swollen clit. “Thiramen eath’she,” he says. “Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen...”

Astarion curls his finger with just the right amount of finesse and suddenly Tav’s body ceases. She cries out, loud and wanton, her release spilling into the palm of his hand. Astarion smirks and continues passing his fingers over her spot, coaxing her through the intensity of her pleasure. Tav pulls her knees together and finally rolls away from his touch, too overstimulated to take any more. Her chest heaves as aftershocks of her release rock through her.

The vampire smiles as he stands up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He begins undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. Opening her legs again, he leans over her. Tav’s face is flushed red, her eyes still closed as her mouth hangs open. He makes a quick mental note of her current state to call upon for later use. “So beautiful,” Astarion comments, snaking a hand down to the button of his trousers. With the deftness expected of a skilled rogue, he pops open the button and loosens the fastener.

Tav finally comes to, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Astarion…” she breathes, raking her nails over his bare chest. Looking between their bodies, she follows his hand as he reaches within the waistband of his underclothes, pulling them down his thighs. His cock springs free and Tav gasps. Pre-fluid gathers at the tip of him and her eyes flutter upward to meet his again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I'll stop, if you want,” Astarion whispers through kiss-swollen lips. Guiding his length to rest against her sex, he groans softly, resting his head against her forehead. Involuntarily twitches of his hips have his shaft sliding deliciously through her arousal. Both pull in a sharp breath when the head of his cock catches at her entrance, Tav’s body arching off the desk at the sensation.

Shaky hands rise to hold either side of his face, and Tav notices for the first time that evening how warm it is. A soft blush sits high on his face, across the tops of his cheeks. Astarion turns his head into her palm, planting gentle kisses. Any reservations begin to melt away at the gesture. “No,” she breathes, “it's fine. I want this.” Tav runs her thumb back and forth over his cheek. “Even if only for a little while.”

He nods, completely silent, then guides himself along her core. Her hands tangle within moonlit locks as he breeches her entrance. Her sudden pleasured moan is swallowed in a kiss, Astarion groaning out is own into her mouth as his length slips deeper, deeper, until he hits her end. Tav tastes the remnants of her release on his tongue; a bitter sweetness that tickles the back of her throat. An involuntary clenching of her walls around his cock as his tip kisses the end of her tunnel has Astarion moaning again, breaking their kiss. He buries his head within the crook of her neck, resting there for a brief moment as he bottoms out.

They lay still, Tav pressing a heated cheek to the side of his face. Inhaling deeply, she crosses her legs over the small of his back and pulls him impossibly closer. Astarion adjusts the angle of his hips and she gasps as the head of his cock pushes against her cervix again, slightly arching into his embrace. Gently he begins to rock his hips – short, teasing thrusts to test her readiness. He lavishes attention to her neck with languid kisses, suckling at the delicate skin.

This is… passionate. Intimate, Tav realizes. The words he cannot say aloud, that he's too afraid to say aloud, he'll express through this.

This is her Astarion. The man she fell in love with over a year ago. Here, like this, is him. Tav turns her face to plant reassuring kisses against his temple. “You can move, Astarion,” she tells him.

He doesn't lift his face, but she feels how he breathes against her skin. A hand comes up to thread within her hair, the other landing on her hip. He’s silent as he begins to move – pulling out before slowly plunging back in. They stay like this for a bit, Astarion rocking his hips into her core with added fevor. He glides smoothly as her arousal grows, Tav falling easily into their shared rhythm.

“Tav?”

She opens her eyes, unaware of having closed them. “Mmm?” she groans softly, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he adjusts his angle.

“Do you trust me?”

It takes a moment, but she’s sure she hears a sort of sternness in his voice. Tav peels her head back to meet his eyes. They're wild – dark crimson pools that threaten to swallow her whole. Astarion breathes heavily through his nose, eyes cast down as he awaits an answer.

She opens her mouth to speak but the words catch in her throat. With a wandering eye she finds the ring laying next to her on the corner of the desk. Light gleams on the gold band, reflecting off the glass of encasement.

He kept the ring, she argues to herself. He kept his half of the rings.

Were he so terrible, would he have done that?

“I do,” Tav answers nervously, blinking rapidly.

“May I ask a favor?”

Astarion stills his movements. He holds himself up by his elbows, but not before guiding Tav to lay flat on the surface of the desk. She nods her head slowly as she looks up to him, inviting him to continue.

In an instant, her stomach twists.

He smiles.

“It's been so long since I've supped of you, darling,” Astarion says, voice smooth as velvet. “Would you be ever so kind to grant me another taste?”

A chill runs up her spine. The room is cold, suddenly so very cold. She's ripped violently from the benevolent illusion of the moment, finding herself face to face with the very creature of tales long past.

The innocent maidens.

They always come for the innocent maidens.

She was nowhere near innocent – not for many years. But a maiden? Yes, of this she was sure.

She never did tell Astarion, but he was her first as much as she was his. Her mind may have still been fractured, but somehow she had certainty of that one fact. The moment he breached her maidenhead was the beginning of everything. Bit by bit he carved out pieces of her. Took them, stole them for himself. More and more she gave, all in an effort to appease his ever-growing lust for power and control.

Astarion is, and was, a rolling thunderstorm – lightning fit to strike for no reason other than he can.

And now he's asking, again, for more.

An overwhelming urge to cry is building within her, but she won't. She chose this. To be here, with him. Like this. The consequences of her actions playing out in real time.

Her stomach twists again and she winces in pain. She understands his craving for blood well. The pregnancy has been kicking up old feelings; she believed them to be settled after the rejection of her Father. Can she really deny him his hunger?

Tav lifts her face to meet his gaze. Astarion is looking down at her with a blank expression. He silently awaits her answer.

“...D-do not turn me, Astarion,” comes her shaky response.

A deep rumble travels up his chest as he twists his face into a foreboding smile. “Of course not, my love,” he purrs, like a cat that finally got the cream. His hand twists within Tav’s hair, guiding her head upward to expose the long column of her throat. His eyes find her scars again and he sucks in a sharp breath, involuntarily jerking his hips into her core. Astarion’s arousal has flagged, though the promise of her blood has him twitching back to life.

Tav groans as she feels him swell within her, hooking her legs back around the small of his waist. Tears threaten at the corners of her eyes as she feels his gaze upon her. “Be gentle, please,” she pleads. Trembling hands rise to hold his shoulders as he moves into position, his mouth hovering above her neck.

Astarion peppers the underside of her jaw with kisses as he trails down her neck. “I would never dream of being anything but,” he speaks into her skin. He swipes his tongue over her mark, his mark, enclosing his mouth over the spot and suckling lightly. “You'll barely feel a thing.”

She could stop this. She should stop this. But instead, she lies in wait, bracing herself for the icy sting of his fangs piercing her flesh. Tav feels the points of his teeth press into her neck; she screws her eyes shut as they sink in, hands flying to the top of his head. She groans, gripping handfuls of silver hair.

He's right – the pain is only momentary, replaced by a familiar, comforting warmth. Astarion sucks in earnest, mouthfuls of her blood rushing down his throat. With his cock fully replenished, Astarion resumes a steady rhythm, thrusting in time with each pull of blood into his mouth. He groans against her skin.

He desires this, he desires me, Tav reassures herself. The edges of her vision are beginning to darken; a telltale sign that she's reaching her limit. “Astarion,” she says meekly, trying to alert him of her condition.

Yet, he continues to drink.

She pants against his forehead as she tries desperately to break free of his hold. Her strength is quickly fading, more of her vision fading with each pull of her blood into his mouth. Still his thrusts continue; a numbness starts to spread from her core throughout her limbs.

“Astarion…” Tav calls again, voice barely above a whisper.

The ceiling is the last thing she sees before she closes her eyes. Even behind her closed lids the room spins. One hand slips from the top of Astarion's head and onto the table, followed shortly by the other.

As she slips closer and closer into unconsciousness, Tav makes peace with the fact that she chose this. She knew this was a possibility. She knew he desired this, and she gave it to him. Willing.

He outplayed her.

A single thought races across her mind before she fades, of the artwork in the foyer.

The vampire bites the woman he desires.

Finally, Tav succumbs to the dark.

Astarion continues to drink.

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A/N: PHEW. Well. The art I referenced above I believe is a scene from a manga called "Blood Sucker," but I couldn't find an actual panel depicting the image above, even with reverse image searching. If anyone can find the actual reference, please feel free to inform me and I'll adjust the link. Translations for the Elvish are as followed: Ai armiel telere maenen hir - "You hold my heart forever" Thiramen - "I love you/my love" when referring to soulmates Thiramen eath’she - "I love you forever," again, in the context of soulmates Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen - "Let go for me, my love," Sources are here & here

Hope you had fun reading!!

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x named tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 #my writing #astarion x durge #astarion x female tav #astarion x female dark urge #sotlc

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slavicdelight · 4 months

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METANOIA

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader

Summary: Metanoia - the journey of changing your mind, heart, self and way of life

Warnings: slightly ooc Tom, pureblood ideas, hits of murder

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Tom Riddle was a name recognized by everyone at Hogwarts. The infamous Slytherin Head Boy commanded respect from every student and even from professors, thanks to the aura surrounding him. However, what most people didn't know, or perhaps didn't care to notice, was that there was something sinister lurking behind his captivating gaze and mannerisms.

His friend group, constantly present by his side, consisted of members from the most well-known pureblood families. Tom considered himself superior to them because he possessed the blood of the noble Salazar Slytherin. By the age of 19, he had already committed horrifying acts, such as opening the Chamber of Secrets during his 5th year, resulting in the death of Myrtle Warren. He also murdered his remaining family around the same time. Furthermore, he created Horcruxes in order to reach immortality, which was one of his goals and the initial step towards becoming the greatest dark wizard in history.

Tom was a skilled manipulator. He had the ability to hide his true emotions, always putting on a mask of politeness. In addition, he was brilliant and could be described as an over-achiever. Tom thoroughly planned everything and never allowed setbacks to hinder him. There was only one person who saw right through him - Dumbledore, the person Tom despised the most in the entire school.

Tonight, Tom was strolling through the hallways of Hogwarts, carrying out his patrols as a Head Boy. Although it was generally a mundane duty, it had its advantages. One of them was being out after curfew without anyone questioning it. The corridors were dimly lit, so Tom had to cast a spell to produce light to see clearly."Lumos." he muttered, before continuing on his way. It appeared to be another uneventful night, where nothing of particular interest occurred.

As he was heading back to the Slytherin dorms, someone bumped into him, causing both teenagers to fall to the ground. "I'm so sorry," said a girl who appeared to be about the same age as him, possibly a year younger. He was about to reprimand her for running into him and give her detention for breaking curfew, but then he looked at her and was instantly captivated by the most beautiful pair of eyes he had even seen. They were warm and welcoming, but what truly enthralled him was their enchanting violet color, which sparkled under the light emerging from his wand.

"I should've watched where I was going," continued the witch. He cleared his throat and gave her a cold stare, trying to hide his intrigue. "Why aren't you in your dorm? It's past curfew," Tom questioned the girl. Another surprising thing was that he had no idea who she was. He only noticed the Ravenclaw emblem on her robes, indicating that she was a member of the eagle house. The Slytherin prided himself on knowing almost everyone at school, from students to professors, yet he didn't know her. How could someone with such captivating eyes escape his attention? "Oh, right. I got caught up in the library and forgot about the curfew," she explained. "I'll go straight to bed." With that, she tried to pass him and walk away.

She wanted to end the interaction as quickly as possible, knowing that Tom Riddle was trouble. Despite his perfect student persona, she sensed a hidden darkness beneath the surface and wanted to avoid getting involved. "Now, now. I can't possibly let the witch with such incredible eyes leave without knowing her name, can I?" he asked, causing her to freeze. "I fail to see how my name is of any interest to you, Riddle. I would prefer you not knowing it and allowing me to go.��

Tom didn't expect his charm not to work, but he hid his surprise. He wondered if the girl was brave or stupid, perhaps both. She didn't know that she piqued his interest, and that was something dangerous. "It hardly seems fair that you know me, but I don't know you, don't you think?" He took a step closer to her but didn't predict what she would do next. "No, I don't," she said, while taking a step back and bolting in another direction. The Head Boy simply stood there and let her get away. 'Let her run,' he thought. 'I shall find her anyway.' And with that, he continued on his way to the dorms.

The next morning, during breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall in search of her. Tom tried to be discreet, but his best friend, Abraxas Malfoy, noticed. Abraxas was his most reliable follower, someone Tom could trust. "What are you looking for, Riddle?" he asked. The boy with raven hair turned to glare at him and said, "It's none of your business, Malfoy." He was becoming increasingly frustrated that the witch from the previous night was nowhere to be found.

Finally, the girl made her entrance, walking into the hall accompanied by another girl. They both headed towards the Ravenclaw's table and took a seat. He couldn't help but gaze at her. It was as if she sensed his gaze, as she turned and looked directly into his eyes. Their staring contest continued until Headmaster Dippet began greeting students and wishing them a good day.

After finishing his meal, Tom made his way to the Potions classroom, his first subject of the day. He enjoyed this class, despite Professor Slughorn being a bit overwhelming. Tom was the professor's favorite student, excelling in this class just as he did in every other. He was an exceptionally talented wizard.

It turned out he shared the class with the violet-eyed witch. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before. He took his usual seat and waited for the Ravenclaw student to enter, which didn't take long. She sat two rows ahead of him, accompanied by a boy he recognized as the Ravenclaw's seeker. Shortly after, Slughorn entered and the lesson began. Today, they had to brew an advanced potion called the Elixir to Induce Euphoria in pairs. As always, Tom was the first to finish his potion, with the help of his partner, Rosier. The potions professor, impressed with their work, allowed them to leave early. Tom decided to wait outside the classroom to talk to the girl who had sparked his interest and learn more about her.

As the girl walked out, he quickly grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the abandoned broom closet across the hall. She protested, but wasn't strong enough to break free from his grasp. Tom pushed her inside and blocked the entrance.

"Hello again," he said, noticing the anger on the girl's face. "What do you think you're doing? Let me go!" she yelled, attempting to escape from the classroom.

"No, I don't think I will," Tom replied. "What do you want, Riddle?" she questioned, gritting her teeth. Her captivating eyes locked with his, and he could swear they had the power to melt a man. But he was no ordinary man, and he wouldn't allow that to defeat him. "I already told you what I want," he started, before she interrupted, "and I already told you that you won't have that." The girl had some nerve, he had to give her that. "Listen, darling, either you tell me your name yourself or I'll find out on my own. But I would prefer to hear it from your beautiful lips.”

"And what?" she spat, her eyes narrowing with a mix of defiance and fear. "Will you force it out of me?" If looks could kill, he would already be six feet under. Tom's lips curled into a malicious smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You'll soon discover that I can be very..." He paused, relishing in the anticipation he was building. "...persuasive." The words hung in the air, sending a shiver down her spine. As he observed her reaction, he couldn't help but notice the subtle trembling of her breath, a sign that his presence and words were affecting her.

“If I tell you my name, would you stop pestering me about it?” she asked not looking into his eyes. Tom grabbed her chin and forced her head up, just enough for him to see her eyes. The Slytherin just nodded and took a step back. “Fine. My name is Y/N” she finally answered and moved past him, heading straight for the door. As Y/N was walking away she heard him say “Such a beautiful name, for someone with such extraodrinary eyes.”

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine as she left the broom closet, the encounter with Tom Riddle leaving her unsettled. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just opened a door to a world of complications. Her day continued with classes, but her mind kept wandering back to the mysterious encounter with the enigmatic Head Boy.

Days turned into weeks, and Tom's fascination with Y/N only deepened. He started to make subtle attempts to engage her in conversation during Potions class or whenever their paths crossed in the hallways. Y/N, however, remained guarded, careful not to reveal too much about herself. She sensed danger around Tom, but there was also a part of her that felt an inexplicable connection, an undeniable intrigue that kept her from avoiding him completely. She didn’t like it, preferring to stay away from the drama that would undeniably follow her once she got too involved with the boy.

As time passed, Tom's pursuit became more relentless. He would show up unexpectedly in places where Y/N was, asking about her interests, her family, and her background. Y/N, althrough in the beginning sheltered and slightly annoyed, soon found herself drawn into conversations that danced on the edge of forbidden topics, and Tom, turn, discovered that there was more to Y/N than met the eye.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Tom found Y/N sitting by the Black Lake,reading a book . He approached her cautiously, and for the first time, his demeanor seemed less calculated, more genuine."You're a puzzle, Y/N," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I can't quite figure you out." Y/N turned to look at him, her violet eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. "Maybe some puzzles are meant to remain unsolved," she replied cryptically. Tom chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Maybe so, yet here we are. Both of us puzzling each other. But I do enjoy the challenge." he admitted. "And you, my dear, are the most intriguing challenge I've found at Hogwarts so far."

As the weeks turned into months, their interactions became more complex. Y/N found herself reluctantly drawn to Tom's charisma and intelligence, while Tom, discovered a more vulnerable side of himself. He couldn't quite understand why Y/N had such an effect on him, but he was determined to find out.

Their dynamic took a turn one evening in the Hogwarts library. Tom, managed to convince Y/N to join him in exploring the restricted section. As they looked through ancient tomes and hidden spells, Y/N couldn't ignore the growing tension between them. In the quiet space of the library, Tom leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "There's something about you, Y/N," he murmured, his breath sending shivers across her skin. "Something that both intrigues and unsettles me." Y/N looked at him curiously and asked “What is so unsettling about me?”. Tom only looked at her and leaning closer said “You’re making me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

As they continued their meetings, the lines between friend and enemy slowly became blurred. Tom’s past and his ambitions started to rub off on her, making her question everything. But she wasn’t weak and wanted to stay true to the right side. She wasn’t about to go down the same path as the Slytherin boy, and wanted to make him see that it was wrong. Little did she know that the choices made in the upcoming months would shape the destiny of the wizarding world.

As the weeks unfolded, Y/N found herself in a dangerous position. The more time she spent with Tom Riddle, the clearer it became that he was wavering on the edge of darkness. His thirst for power, his relentless pursuit of immortality, and the shadows of his past painted a grim picture. Yet, among all this darkness, Y/N saw moments of vulnerability, moments where the mask slipped, revealing a fractured soul. Y/N couldn't ignore the pull she felt toward Tom, a pull that went beyond fascination. Beneath his charming facade, she noticed loneliness that mirrored her own.

One evening, as snowflakes danced outside the castle windows, Y/N found Tom alone in the library. The fire cast a glow on his face, making him appear more handsome than ever. Y/N hesitated but she knew she had to ask the next question. "Tom," she began softly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you." He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting hers. "Ask away, Y/N."

"Why are you so afraid of letting people in?" she inquired, her voice gentle but filled with genuine curiosity. Tom's eyes moved towards her, she could see suffering behind them. He took a deep breath before replying to her."People often betray and are fake in order to get what they want from you. After they get it, they leave and never come back.” Y/N took a step closer, closing the distance between them. "But it's also lonely, isn't it? To carry the weight of responsibilities on your shoulders without anyone to share it with."

Tom's mask wavered, revealing the boy beneath the facade. "Loneliness is a small price to pay for greatness," he stated, but a small amount of doubt could be seen in his eyes. "Maybe attaining greatness isn’t meant to be done alone." Y/N suggested. "Maybe it's in the connections we make, the people we let in"

In the days that followed, Y/N continued to challenge Tom's perspective. She introduced him to the joy of laughter, the warmth of genuine friendships, and the beauty of simple moments. As the walls around his heart slowly crumbled, Y/N became a beacon of light in his world, a reminder that there was more to life than power and darkness.

One evening, beneath the sky covered in stars, Y/N and Tom found themselves strolling through the Hogwarts grounds. Tom, usually composed, seemed uncertain, as if something was bothering him. "You don't have to be alone, Tom," Y/N whispered, her words carrying the weight of sincerity. "There's goodness in you, which you only have to choose." For the first time, Tom Riddle looked genuinely conflicted. The darkness within him warred with the flickers of light that Y/N had ignited. He was standing on the crossroads where the choices made would shape the future.

In the quiet of the night, Y/N extended her hand, a silent invitation to choose a different path. Tom hesitated, his gaze locking onto hers. And in that moment, the boy who had been consumed by shadows took a small step toward the light, changing the course of history forever. The journey towards redemption would be a long one, but with Y/N by his side, Tom Riddle was confident in succeeding. He realized that greatness could be found not in the pursuit of power but in the capacity to love and be loved.

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A/N: let me introduce you to my first ever Tom Riddle imagine. The obsession I have with this man is unhealthy. Anyway let me know if you enjoyed it. Thank you for all the support ♡

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ronearoundblindly · 2 months

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Hideout (1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Puppy, (see premise post or series)

Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭

While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k

He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.

Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.

He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.

These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.

The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.

They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.

Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.

Sporadically, this continues.

Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.

Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.

Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.

It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.

He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.

You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.

Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.

“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”

So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.

It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics: I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…

Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.

You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.

Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.

He just talks to you.

It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.

Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.

You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.

“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.

You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.

Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.

So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.

Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.

You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.

An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.

You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.

It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.

It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.

Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”

Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.

You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.

Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.

“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.

“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.

Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”

Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.

“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.

You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.

He’s prey caught in a cage.

You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.

Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.

“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.

You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”

He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.

Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’

The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.

A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.

Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”

That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.

Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.

dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics

A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!

[Next Part: Sweet Baby]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #nomad steve #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #touchstarved #touch-starved!steve #hideout series

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

The year is 1986. Eddie is in danger of not graduating (again). Reader is his girlfriend, and she’s tired of him not taking his future seriously, so she breaks up with him. He finally decides to get his sh*t together and buckles down. But is it too late? Will he graduate? Will the love of his life take him back? Up to you, bb!

xoxoxoxo, @munson-blurbs 💚💚 PS ily

Anything for you, my love! I hope you enjoy the way I broke Eddie’s heart. It hurt me more than it did him. ily2💚

Words: 5.2k

“Eddie, we’ve got to study,” you say. He’s kneeling behind you on his bed, pressing soft kisses along the back of your neck as you try to focus on the textbook laying open in your lap.

“How am I supposed to concentrate, hmm? With you sitting on my bed, looking so beautiful,” Eddie says against your skin.

“Okay,” you say, letting your book thump onto his sheets. “I’m gonna quiz you on stuff that’ll be on our finals. For every right answer, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. For every wrong answer, it’s an extra fifteen minutes of study time.”

“Fire away, baby.” Eddie lounges back against his wall and tucks his hands behind his head, a sinful smirk on his lips.

“Let’s start with English,” you say as you shift on the bed to face him. “What two Shakespeare plays are written entirely in verse?”

Eddie purses his lips, eyes searching his bedroom ceiling as if the answers were written across it in big bold letters. “Hamlet and…McBeth?”

“King John and Richard II,” you say with a sigh. Eddie groans and lets his hands fall down to his lap.

“Ehh, shit,” Eddie says. “But just because it had two answers doesn’t mean that’s half an hour of study time! That was one question, so only one fifteen-minute addition.”

“Fine,” you say, silently knowing this is all in vain anyway. Eddie’s been caring less and less about school lately, to the point where you’re afraid he’s going to fail senior year for the third time. “We’ll move onto biology.”

“Take your clothes off and I’ll give you a biology lesson.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Fine, fine, sorry. Go on.”

“What part of the brain deals with balance and coordination?”

One of his dark brown eyes squeezes closed and he tilts his head from side to side as if he’s deliberating what he wants for dinner.

“The left part. No, wait, that’s a joke! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Um…the frontal lobe?” Eddie winces, knowing that this was just a wild guess—it was the first part of the brain he could think of.

“The cerebellum,” you say.

“Okay,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “I’ll remember that. The cerebrum controls balance and coordination.”

“The cerebellum,” you correct.

Eddie groans, rolling the tension out of his neck before letting his head thump back against the wall.

“Come on, hit me again.”

“Last one,” you say as you adjust your legs tucked underneath you. “History this time. What city was the first capital of the United States?”

“I know it wasn’t DC,” Eddie says, pointing his finger at you. “Hmm, what other cities were important then? Boston, Philly…Philly! Philadelphia!”

At the shake of your head, Eddie slumps down on the bed.

“New York City,” you tell him.

“Ugh, fuck me.” Eddie rubs his hands over his face, and you give him a pat on the leg.

“Not tonight, hot shot. Grab your books.”

Spending your free period in the library, pouring over books, you’re jarred out of the world of microeconomics by the chair across the table from you screeching against the floor as it’s pulled out. A dark figure plops down in it, and you glance up to see the dark leather jacket and black Judas Priest t-shirt that you’d sat next to in last period English. Eddie runs a hand over his unruly curls and shoots you a smile.

“Hey, babe.”

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?” you get out through gritted teeth. You’re almost certain the pencil in your hand is going to snap in half. “You’re supposed to be in history.”

“Ugh, O’Donnell,” Eddie complains, dropping his head back. “I swear, she was there for half the shit she’s telling us about. God, I couldn’t take it anymore. She’s just droning on and on. Told her I had to take a leak and knew this is where I’d find my best girl.”

“Eddie!” You all but shout his name before remembering you’re in the library and you lower your voice. “Eddie, you’re already in danger of failing her class. Among others. Should you really be skipping class?”

“Babe, it’s been five minutes,” he says with a chuckle, his carefree attitude that you usually love grating on your nerves.

“Okay. So, go back and pay attention now.” Your tone is sharp and curt, but you’ve put up with this long enough.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Eddie asks, jutting out his lower lip in what is an admittedly adorable pout. He leans forward on the table, letting his hand slide over to rest on top of one of yours.

“Trying to get you to graduate,” you say, snatching your hand away. Your boyfriend watches you with wide eyes as you slam your book closed and shove it into your backpack. Slinging it over your shoulder, you stand up and nod your head towards the library door. “Let’s go.”

Eddie follows behind you like a lost puppy as you storm out of the library and stalk down the hall. Once you’ve turned down an empty hallway, you spin around to face him. The anger in your eyes takes him aback, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“You’re mad,” he says softly.

“Yes, I’m mad,” you snap. “My boyfriend doesn’t seem to give a shit if he graduates high school or not.”

“I care,” Eddie defends weakly.

“If you cared, you’d be in class right now. Or would study with me when I ask—or at all! Jesus, Eddie, I’ve been trying for months to get you to take your future seriously.”

“My future with you is what’s most important,” Eddie says, hand reaching out for you. Hurt flashes across his face when you pull away, and it hurts you too. This isn’t what you wanted. You’ve never wanted to be the reason Eddie’s in pain. But you also can’t just sit by and let him do this to himself.

“That’s part of the problem, Eddie. You’re so focused on me and not enough on you.”

“Because I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too, Eddie,” you reply, tears starting to fill your eyes. “That’s why I’m so concerned about you. About your future.”

“I’ll go back to class,” Eddie says, taking a step closer to you. “I-I’ll study with you. Baby, I promise.”

“You’ve said that before.” You squeeze your eyes closed, resolving yourself to what you know you have to do. As much as you don’t want it. As much as it’s going to break your heart. “It’s not enough, Eddie.”

“Then what?” Eddie rests his hands on your upper arms. “Tell me what to do.”

“It’s too late,” you say, shaking your head.

“W-What do you mean it’s too late?” But the dread in his eyes says he knows exactly what you mean.

“You’re not taking your future seriously. I’ve tried so hard to help you, but there’s only so much I can push you. At some point you have to do it for yourself. I’m so tired of waiting for you to do it, though. It hurts me to sit here and watch you not care about you as much as I do.”

“Sweetheart, please—.”

“Eddie, it’s over. We’re over.”

Tears flood his eyes as his jaw hangs open. Eddie’s hands slip from your arms, and he stumbles back a step. You know the pain on his face must be reflected in your own. And maybe it means you’re a coward, but you can’t look at his broken expression anymore. Tucking your thumbs into your backpack straps, you turn around and walk down the empty hallway, away from Eddie.

Eddie feels numb. He’s walking around school in a haze. Friends try to talk to him in the hallway, but they sound like they’re underwater and Eddie can’t understand them. Gareth waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, but he doesn’t even blink. Jeff grabs his shoulder, but Eddie doesn’t even feel it, he just keeps walking. It’s not until Dustin grabs Eddie by the zipper of his leather jacket and pushes him up against the lockers that the twenty-year-old snaps back to reality.

“What?” Eddie asks, big brown eyes blinking as he tries to focus on the shorter man in front of him.

“Are you okay? What the hell is going on?” Dustin asks. Eddie’s eyes find the floor and he shakes off Dustin’s hands.

“She left me,” he mumbles.

“What?” Gareth asks, leaning in to hear him better.

“She fucking broke up with me, okay?” His friends flinch as Eddie pushes himself off the lockers and runs his hands over his hair. They back away, giving him room to pace the small area around him.

“Why?” Jeff asks, sounding half afraid to ask the question to his hot-tempered friend.

“She said I’m not taking my future seriously,” Eddie answers. “That I don’t seem to care that I’m failing classes. Again.” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see his three friends share a look. He stops pacing and stares at them. “What?”

“I mean,” Jeff starts quietly, “she has a point.”

When Eddie just continues to stare, Dustin decides to speak up as well.

“She’s been trying real hard to help you, man. You haven’t seemed to care, though.”

“I…I care,” Eddie says.

“When’s the last time she tried to get you to study?” Dustin asks.

“The other night.” Eddie remembers, thinking about how he failed your quiz.

“And what did you do?” Dustin asks.

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “Tried to have sex with her.”

“This is probably a good thing,” Gareth says, shrinking in on himself when Eddie glares at him. “For you. So you can focus on school.”

Eddie scoffs. “She really think I’m gonna be able to focus on school after she shatters my heart like this? Fuck, I love her so much.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Jeff says.

“Fuck this shit.” Eddie slams his fist against the lockers and strides down the hall, towards the exit.

When Eddie gets home, Wayne hasn’t left for work yet. He’s sitting on the couch, remote control in his hand as he points it at the small television and clicks through the channels. Eddie wrenches open the front door, dirty black boots stomping into the trailer before banging the door closed behind him. Wayne pauses his channel surfing to raise an eyebrow at his nephew.

“What’s the matter with you, boy?”

Ignoring the older man, Eddie strides down the hallway to his bedroom, footsteps so heavy they rattle the mugs hanging on the living room walls. Wayne was no stranger to Eddie temper tantrums—having raised him through puberty—but this is a level he hasn’t seen since the last time a letter from his father arrived. He gives it a few moments before deciding to see what’s going on with the brooding boy. Wayne hoists himself off the couch, groaning as his bones click and muscles tighten.

The bedroom door isn’t fully closed, so Wayne swings it open to see Eddie lying flat on his back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. He hadn’t even bothered to shed himself of the leather jacket or boots before plopping down.

“I know I may not have taught you much in life, boy, but I know I taught you manners,” Wayne says.

Eddie stays silent, which is never the case. That worries Wayne more than anything.

“Eddie?”

“She dumped me.”

Wayne takes a moment to process what his nephew says. He places his hands on his hips and blows out a breath.

“What happened?”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face before responding. When he does speak, his tone is bitter. “She said that I don’t care about my future. That she’s tired of sitting around while I’m out here being a dumbass.”

“She wouldn’t say that,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“Maybe not with those exact words.” Eddie forces himself to sit up, shoulders slumped. “But the same messaging.”

Sighing, Wayne sits down next to him and pats his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s a good kid.”

“I always told her that you like her more than you like me,” Eddie grumbles.

“Only sometimes,” Wayne jokes with a small smile. “Now, you’re allowed to wallow for one day—two at the most. Then you get your ass in gear and get your act together.”

With a low groan, Eddie flops back down on the bed. “Don’t wanna.”

“Well,” Wayne says, pushing himself off the bed. “The girl is either gonna be right about you or wrong. It’s up to you which one it is.”

Wayne makes his way out of the bedroom and Eddie rolls over so he’s face down on his bed. He squeezes his eyes shut as the first of the tears begin to burn his eyes. The way his throat begins to tighten has Eddie gripping his blanket in his fists. Wayne’s words repeat in his head. Would you end up being right? Is everything you said about him true? Of course it is, he thinks to himself. He’s about to fail senior year for the third time—and he didn’t even care. Until now, he decides. Pushing himself off the bed, Eddie yanks his leather jacket off. He tosses it in the general direction of his closet, not caring where it lands as he bends down to pick his biology textbook from the floor.

“Should be able to read this whole damn thing before finals.”

Eddie’s friends hardly recognize him at lunch the next day. Instead of arguing over Lucas missing another Hellfire meeting for a basketball game and munching on pretzels, he has his nose buried in a book.

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Gareth says, dropping his tray on the tabletop. His brows pinch together when Eddie doesn’t even lift his head.

“Is that Eddie Munson reading a book?” Jeff asks.

“And not just a book,” Dustin says as he slides into the seat next to his Dungeon Master. He picks the corner up to take a look at the cover to confirm his suspicions, but Eddie’s quick to slap his hand away so he can keep reading. “Eddie is reading Romeo and Juliet.”

“Look at this cultured man,” Gareth says. Still, Eddie doesn’t lift his head.

“How far do you think this will go?” Mike asks. “Think we could shit talk Metallica?”

“I’m reading, I’m not deaf,” Eddie says.

“Is this about—” Lucas starts but Dustin elbows him in the ribs.

Finally, Eddie raises his eyes from the book and sends a death glare to all of his friends. He slams the book closed and snatches it up before striding out of the cafeteria. Weren’t these the same assholes who had told him that you were right about him not taking his future seriously? But the moment they see him trying to improve himself, they decide to make snide jokes. Eddie grumbles as he makes his way to the library, banging the door open and ignoring the sneer from the librarian as he drops down at a table. With a sigh, he opens the book again and continues where he left off before he was rudely interrupted.

Two periods later, Eddie’s pretty sure Mrs. O’Donnell is going to have a heart attack after he raises his hand and answers a question correctly. The crone takes a moment before continuing her lecture and Eddie smirks in self-satisfaction.

Once Eddie gets used to his eyes being tired from reading so much, and his headaches from the information overloads start to abate, he manages to bring his grades up. It takes a couple of weeks for him to finally see the difference, but when he does, he feels something that he’s not sure if he’s ever felt before: pride. Being proud of himself is odd at first, and he smokes a bit more than usual to dull the sensation, but he soon comes to enjoy it and the pleasant buzz he feels has nothing to do with the weed.

A few weeks out from graduation, Eddie’s lounging on the wall in front of the school, stretched out as the late spring sun warms the afternoon, reading the assigned chapter in The Outsiders. A shadow falls across the pages of his book and Eddie squints as he looks up, finding you standing next to him, thumb hooked in the strap of your backpack, a strained smile on your face.

“Hey, stranger,” you say.

Eddie pushes himself into a sitting position, letting his long legs dangle over the side of the wall. He closes his book, keeping a ring clad finger between the pages that he’s currently on.

“Hey,” Eddie says. This is the first time you’ve talked to one another since that day in the hallway. Neither of you had even contacted one another to give back stuff that was at the others’ houses. Eddie knows there’s a handful of his t-shirts at your place and he’s not sure if it comforts him or causes him pain to wonder if you still wear them to sleep. And he knows exactly where the David Bowie tapes that you left in his room are—one is in his stereo right now. He’s managed to either hide or push down the pain from the breakup, but he still spends most nights falling asleep to Space Oddity or Ziggy Stardust. It even got to the point where Wayne had come into his room and said, “As glad as I am that I don’t have to listen to your screaming music, you’ve gotta stop wallowing in pity. Or at least listen to Elvis or somethin’ while ya do.”

“I saw you in the library last week. And I’ve heard that you’ve been working really hard,” you tell him. “I’m glad, Eddie. That’s amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” he says, nodding his head. Under the guise of avoiding the bright sun, he ducks his head down and looks at his white sneakers. But really, he’s not sure if he can look you in the eye for more than a second at a time. The sadness had given way to anger, which gave away to an empty, aching pain in the pit of his stomach. “I, um, started because I didn’t want you to be right. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought I needed to get my shit together. But, uh, now I’m doing it for me. Trying to put me first.”

“Good,” you say. Eddie looks up to see you giving him a genuine smile. The one not many other people got to see. You’re not attempting to give him a pep talk or play some kind of game with him. Eddie can tell that you’re being authentic and really are pleased to see him succeeding. “You deserve it, Eddie. I’m proud of you.”

The words affect him more than he would’ve thought. His throat feels tighter and suddenly the spring day feels like it’s a blisteringly hot August afternoon. “Thanks,” he manages to get out.

“And I—um, I’m sorry. I really hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” And he does. Now. He’d had moments of thinking you had done it as a way of calling him stupid or pathetic. But once the haziness of the initial heartbreak wore off, he realized you would never think that, let alone be cruel enough to insinuate it.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie,” you say, offering him a small wave. He nods his head in acknowledgment and tries to get back to his book. But too much of you fills his head for him to be able to focus on what Ponyboy is talking about.

Finals come and they go. Eddie waits with bated breath for the results, feeling more on edge, even with kicking up the pot smoking again. When Eddie sees that he’s passed every single exam, the high he feels is better than he could’ve imagined. Not quite as good as some drug highs and definitely nowhere as near the high you gave him, but it’s still good. For the first time in his life, Eddie is excited to come home and wave a school paper in Wayne’s face. In the past, it’d been a detention slip, a letter of reprimand from the principal, or a failed report card that he needed to have signed and returned. But this is something good. Better than good, Wayne tells him.

“Looks like you’ve got to get yourself a cap and gown, boy.”

So, he does. When he puts them on the morning of graduation though, he groans at how the shade of green looks on him. Black was his best color, according to him, so something this bright just wasn’t him.

He strolls over to his stereo near the window and firmly presses the play button. Heroes by David Bowie fills the small bedroom as Eddie takes another look at himself in the mirror. No one would look good in this color, he thinks. Well, he muses, that’s not true. You would look good in this color because it’s impossible for you to ever look anything less than breathtaking.

I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Eddie sighs and turns away from the mirror. Grabbing his keys off of his bedside table, Eddie clicks the pause button on his stereo before heading down the hallway.

“See ya at the ceremony, old man,” Eddie says to his uncle before he’s out the trailer door.

Only the graduates and school faculty get there this early, so the parking lot is relatively empty when Eddie pulls in. He hops out of his van and sees Jeff getting out of his car a few spaces over.

“Glad to see you look as awful as I do in this shit,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fellow Hellfire member.

“Black robes would’ve been brutal under this sun though, dude,” Jeff replies.

Eddie shrugs because he knows his friend is right. Together they walk towards the football field, a place Eddie actively tried to avoid all the years he spent here. It looks like most of the students are here already. Not long after Eddie spots Jason Carver straightening his tie, even though it’s under the gown, all the students are herded into the gymnasium to wait for the ceremony to begin. The gym smells even worse than normal with the whole senior class shoved inside. Eddie spies you off towards a corner, laughing about something with Nancy. It wouldn’t surprise him if you’re trying to make her laugh to take her mind off of the valedictorian speech she’s about to give. Eyes taking in how you look in the green cap and gown, Eddie knows he was right before; you are the only one who looks drop dead gorgeous in the graduation garment. He knows his eyes have been on you for too long, but he can’t bring himself to tear them away.

“So, what’s going on there?” Jeff asks, seeing where his friend’s gaze lies. “You did what she wanted, right? Are you going to try and get back together with her?”

Eddie sighs and finally breaks his gaze away from you. Instead, he looks up into the rafters of the gym, squinting as the bright lights shine down.

“I don’t really think this was a ‘if you fix this, we’ll get back together’ type of situation,” Eddie says. “Besides, it’s been months. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been on dates with a bunch of different guys by now.”

“You still love her, though.” It’s not a question from Jeff, it’s a statement. A fact that was as obvious as the scuff marks on the floor of the gym.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, not adding anything further.

“Shouldn’t you at least try then?” Jeff asks. “You did all that hard work.”

“But I didn’t do it for her,” Eddie answers with a shake of his head. “I did it for me.”

“But you still did it,” Jeff points out. “It won’t be in vain either way, man, because you’re here right now. About to graduate. I’m just saying you should talk to her. See where things stand.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says with a sigh.

Mrs. O’Donnell bustles into the room—well, as fast as she can at her age. Taking stock of the children around the gym, she claps her hands together to get their attention.

“Okay, okay, everyone. Time to line up. We’ll be starting soon.”

Jeff and Eddie let themselves be herded with the rest of their class and listen half-heartedly at instructions shouted at them as they make their way back outside.

Once the ceremony starts, it’s long and boring. Nancy’s speech isn’t as bad as Eddie expected, though. But Principal Higgins has to talk, then just about every other school official that Eddie swears he’s never seen in the front office even after all the time he’s spent in there. Then the never ending list of names begins. Of course all the names are familiar to Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he cares enough to watch each of them walk across the stage, shake hands, and get their diploma. There are only a select few people that Eddie actually pays attention for.

“Nancy Wheeler.”

“Robin Buckley.”

“Jason Carver.” Eddie pretends to gag.

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Jeff Donaldson.”

Then it’s your turn. Eddie can’t take his eyes off of you or the big grin on your face as you hop up on the stage and go through the long line of people none of you had ever heard of to shake their hands. Your eyes light up as your diploma is handed to you. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s smiling along with you until his cheeks begin to ache. That settles it, he thinks. I have to talk to her.

“Eddie Munson.”

Hearing his own name called over the loudspeaker jars him out of his thoughts. He’s distantly aware of people cheering for him as he makes his way to the stage, but it feels too weird to be real. People didn’t even cheer for him at Corroded Coffin shows. Eddie takes the steps up to the stage two at a time and forces a pleasant smile to his lips as he shakes Principal Higgins’ hand. The rest of the faces become a blur as he moves from person to person until he finally gets his diploma. He grins at the simple rolled up paper in his hands. It’s just a blank piece of paper until his real diploma comes in, he knows, but it means so much more. It’s proof that he did it. That he graduated at long last. The now-familiar pride swells up in him as he heads back to his seat among the students in the green sea of their robes.

When the ceremony finally comes to an end, there’s hugging and crying and squealing coming from all around the football field. Eddie makes his way out into the parking lot where families are taking photos with their graduates, all smiles and congratulations. Wayne’s truck is hard to miss in the parking lot; by far the oldest vehicle there. Eddie heads in that direction and is greeted by a beaming uncle.

“M’so proud of you, boy.” Wayne pulls Eddie into a hug, which wasn’t a usual occurrence in the Munson household. “You put your mind to something and ya did it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, smiling sheepishly.

“Congratulations.”

The familiar voice coming from behind him has Eddie spinning around so fast he hears his neck crack.

“Uh, thanks,” he says. “You too.”

“C’mon, let me get a picture of the two of you,” Wayne says, pulling a camera that looks older than Eddie out of his pocket.

Eddie is about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated, but you’re looping your arm through his before he can even open his mouth. You tilt your head, close to Eddie’s shoulder but not quite touching, and smile prettily for the camera. Eddie musters his best look for the picture as well, but on the inside, he’s cringing as he imagines what that picture must look like.

“Perfect,” Wayne says. He unlocks his truck and tosses the camera inside. “I’ll see you later, Eddie?”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

Wayne pulls Eddie in for another hug before enveloping you in one as well.

“I’m real proud of both of you,” he says.

“Thanks, Wayne,” you reply.

Wayne climbs into his truck and gives the two of you one last wave before heading out of the parking lot.

“So, uh,” Eddie starts at the same time you say, “So, listen.”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head at you. “You first.”

“Oh, I, um, was just going to ask if you were going to the party tonight. At Cat’s place.”

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Eddie says as he unzips the graduation robe. “Why?”

“Well, uh, I—I was wondering if maybe you’d want to? I mean, I-I’ll be there. But if you don’t wanna, I totally understand.”

“You want me to?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at you as he slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.

“I do,” you say, a shy look that Eddie is unaccustomed to on your face. “Like I said, I get it if you don’t want to. But I had to at least ask.”

“I guess it wouldn’t kill me to go for a little while. Might be able to sell.”

“You don’t want to celebrate?” you ask. “Dance and drink?”

“Of all people, you should know better than anyone that I don’t dance,” Eddie says with a small smile.

“But you drink,” you point out.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side, like a puppy wondering what it’s human just said. Better to ask bluntly and get a clear answer then try to piece one together in his mind.

“I need a reason?”

“Kind of. After you dumped me? Yeah, you do.”

“I miss you,” you admit, so quietly that Eddie almost misses it. “I’ve missed you from the moment I left you standing there in that hallway. So many times I almost caved and begged you to take me back. But then I’d see you studying, and it would remind me that you need to focus on you. And you did. Look what you accomplished. I’m really, really proud of you, Eddie.”

“Not bad for the school freak, huh?” Eddie asks, the beginnings of a smirk curling his pink lips.

“I think you need a new nickname,” you muse. “We’re not in school anymore.”

“Maybe we can come up with one at the party tonight,” Eddie says, causing your face to light up in excitement.

“Really? You’ll go with me?” you ask, eyes widening in hope.

“I’d be pretty dumb not to.”

“You’ve always been far from dumb, sweetheart,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you reach out and lace your fingers with his. “I think I came up with a new nickname for you, too.”

“Do tell,” Eddie says.

“No more Eddie the Freak or Eddie the Banished,” you say, imitating Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice. “You are now Eddie the graduate.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #request

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mrprettywhenhecries · 29 days

Text

worth the squeeze [s.h]

One. Worth Sticking Around For

↪︎ a Stranger Things/The Girl Next Door AU

Steve Harrington ✗ f!Reader

➺ w.c. 4.4k words ➺ tags/warning(s). no use of y/n, reader character uses she/her pronouns, sexual themes, nudity, skinny dipping, Steve's a lil bit of a perv ➺ a/n. I had this thought a couple weeks ago about writing a Girl Next Door AU with Steve and it was just too perfect to pass up despite my other ongoing wips. The plot isn't going to follow the movie exactly, but the main theme will be the same. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

When the most beautiful girl Steve's ever seen starts staying at his neighbor's house, he'd do anything to get to know her, even make a fool of himself for her.

[ masterlist]

“I’m tellin’ you, Robin, I’m getting really tired of it,” Steve exclaimed as he drove her home after their shift at Family Video.

“Oh yeah, must be tough going on so many dates with sooo many beautiful women,” Robin scoffed, throwing him a wry look.

“Yeah, I mean, my sex life has never been better, but it’s like, maybe I want more than just sex, you know?” Steve continued as if he hadn’t heard her, gesturing animatedly with one hand while the other gripped the steering wheel.

Robin lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’re making it real hard to feel sorry for you,” she retorted dryly and Steve returned her flat stare with his own.

“I just wanna meet a girl that I genuinely like being around, I mean, in addition to having great sex with,” he added and Robin laughed.

“Maybe stop having sex on the first date then, Dingus,” she pointed out.

“Yeah yeah,” Steve muttered, knowing she had a point. After his dry spell the year before, he’d been trying to make up for all the action he’d missed out on, but now… now he was starting to feel empty. He wanted something meaningful.

Dropping Robin off, Steve headed home, turning onto the quiet street he’d lived all his life and pulled into the empty drive–his parents off on some business trip, leaving him the house all to himself.

Pushing open his car door, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked next door and frowned. The older woman who lived there didn’t often have visitors. Heading inside, he forgot about the car when his stomach began to rumble. Not bothering to change out of his work uniform, he threw some food in the oven and went about taking the trash out.

As he dragged the heavy black plastic bag down the drive, a sound caught his attention and he turned to find one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen pulling a suitcase and garment bag out of the car in his neighbor’s driveway. Steve’s breath caught and he gaped at her, letting his gaze linger a little too long on her backside and he let out a surprised yelp as he ran right into the trash can at the end of the driveway.

Nearly tripping and sprawling atop the overturned can, he quickly straightened before fumbling to right the can and get the bag inside it with a loud clatter. Glancing up hastily to see if she’d noticed, he winced when he found her watching him, an amused grin on her lips before she turned away and headed back inside, leaving Steve feeling like a giant fool.

Glancing down at himself, he finally realized he was still in his work vest and let out a sigh. No doubt he’d just blown his chance at a suave first impression and he muttered to himself as he reluctantly headed back inside, dragging his feet sullenly.

Shrugging off his work vest, he wadded it into a ball and tossed it at the stairs, leaving it lay where it landed before climbing to his room and flopping down onto his bed, reaching for the cordless phone on his bed stand while he waited for his food to cook.

“Y’ello?” Tommy Hagan answered on the third ring and Steve turned his head so his voice wouldn’t be muffled by his pillow.

“Hey Tommy, it’s Steve.”

“Harrington, my man, how’s it hangin’?” Tommy exclaimed and Steve let out a weary sigh.

“So, check it out, there’s this girl staying at my neighbor’s, one of the hottest chicks I’ve ever seen, right? I mean, she was unbelievable–like an angel, and her smile–” he trailed off with a sigh before shaking his head angrily. “I haven’t even talked to her yet and I already blew it!” he groaned, running his hand down his face.

“How’d you manage that?” Tommy asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“I was taking the trash out and there she was, bending over to get something out of her car and what do I do? I trip over the goddamn trash can! I mean, I’m only human, what am I supposed to do, not look?”

Tommy’s raucous laughter filled his ear and he cringed.

“What’d she do?” he asked once he caught his breath.

“She turned and looked at me and then went back inside,” Steve groaned. “Oh, oh! And the worst part! That’s when I realized I was still wearing my damn work vest.”

“She probably thinks you’re a loser, man,” Tommy pointed out and Steve let out a heavy sigh, lifting his hand from his face.

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled.

It was probably karma for him complaining earlier about wanting more than sex. Watch, now he’d probably go back to not being able to score at all.

Letting his eyes regain focus, he looked out his window and stiffened. Next door, a light flicked on in the second floor window across from his, and the girl he’d just been telling Tommy about came into view. Completely oblivious that he could see her, she began to undress, pulling her shirt over her head, revealing a red lacy bra that hugged her breasts perfectly, pushing them up and together.

“Oh shit–” he breathed, forgetting for the moment that he still had the phone to his ear until Tommy replied in confusion.

“What? S’goin’ on?”

Steve pushed himself up from the bed and moved closer to the window as she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra, letting it slide slowly down before tossing it aside, her back still to him as she slipped her jeans down, her red panties matching her bra.

“I can see her through the window, she’s undressing,” Steve whispered, his mouth going dry, hoping she’d turn so he could get a better view.

He may have matured in the year since he’d graduated, but he was still a guy after all.

“Holy shit, lucky bastard. How’s her rack?”

Steve barely heard Tommy over the rush of blood in his ears and he held his breath as she finally turned toward the window. For one blessed moment he had a perfect view of her chest and he let out a low whistle, admiring her tits and wondering how nice they’d feel in his hands.

It was when his gaze flicked back up to her face, his eyes finding hers staring right back, that panic flooded him and he dropped the phone in his haste to duck below the window and out of sight. Steve could faintly hear Tommy demanding to know what was happening, but he ignored the phone, slowly pulling himself up just enough to peer through the bottom of the window to see if she’d truly noticed him or not, only to grimace as she quickly pulled a sweatshirt on over her head and shut off the light as she strode out of the room.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, finally picking the phone back up and bringing it reluctantly to his ear. “I think she saw me.”

Tommy let out a loud snort. “Good job, man. Now you’re definitely screwed.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Steve grumbled, hearing the timer on the oven go off downstairs. “My food’s ready, I’ll talk to you later,” he muttered, cursing his luck. It was definitely karma coming back to bite him.

“Okay, later. Keep me posted,” Tommy said and Steve hung up the phone to bound down the stairs and retrieve his pizza before it burned. Almost as soon as he opened the oven door and pulled the pan out, the doorbell rang.

“Who the hell could that be?” Steve muttered under his breath, dropping the pizza atop the stove and turning off the oven to get the door.

Taking a moment to peer through the peephole before pulling the door open, Steve’s mouth fell open in shock at the sight of the mysterious girl from next door standing on his doorstep–the last person he’d expected to see.

Working moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth, he squashed down the surge of worry that she was only there to tell him off for being a perv, and opened the door. Leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, he flashed her his most charming smile and ran a hand through his hair to wrangle it, bringing her attention to his best asset, hoping for a second chance at a better first impression.

“Hey there, we haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Steve Harrington,” he drawled, offering his hand.

The drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins was longer than you’d expected and when you pulled into your aunt’s empty drive, all you wanted to do was stretch your legs and collapse into bed, but you knew if you did that then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself get back up and you still had to finish unpacking your car before you could allow yourself the sweet embrace of sleep.

The spare key was exactly where your aunt had said it would be and you let yourself in, deciding to make another trip to grab the rest of your luggage. It had been such a long time since you’d last visited, it took you a moment to remember the layout of the spacious house. You didn’t understand why your aunt hadn’t downsized yet, especially since it was just her all alone in the big house, but you weren’t complaining about the extra space, especially since she’d offered you one of her spare rooms til you could afford your own place.

Dropping your backpack on the bed, you returned to your car for the rest of your stuff, aware of the noise coming from the neighbor’s driveway. You barely paid attention to the young man dragging his trash out to the road as you bent over to grab your suitcase and garment bag from the backseat.

As you straightened, the loud clatter of trash cans falling over made you turn and you had to bite back the laugh that nearly sprang to your lips as the neighbor nearly fell head over heels in his distraction, his eyes quickly tearing away from you as he fought to right himself.

For a long moment, you watched him, smiling to yourself before turning back toward the house. Despite making a fool of himself, he was rather handsome and looked to be about your age. For a second, you deliberated going back to introduce yourself, but the way your stomach grumbled reminded you that you’d barely eaten anything other than junk food all day and the call of finding sustenance was too great to ignore. Besides, the poor guy’d just suffered enough humiliation, you didn’t wanna add to that at the moment.

Dragging the rest of your stuff up to your room, you flicked the light on as the sun began to dip below the horizon, and pulled out something a little more comfortable to put on, stripping your t-shirt over your head and unhooking your bra. Tossing the garment away, you stretched your arms above your head, working the kink out of your back before turning to grab the sweatshirt you’d just laid out.

Glancing up to the window, you realized you could see into the room directly across from yours in the house next door, and your heart leapt into your throat as you locked eyes with the young man you’d just encountered in the driveway, watching as he hastily ducked out of sight, knowing you’d caught him staring.

Clenching your jaw, you yanked your sweatshirt on and stormed out of the room and down the stairs, ready to give the pervert a piece of your mind. When he answered his front door, however, you faltered for a moment at his confident greeting, as if he hadn’t just been caught watching you undress.

“Hey there, we haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Steve Harrington,” he drawled.

Your brows rose slightly as you stared at his outstretched hand. So he wanted to pretend like nothing had happened, huh? Well, two could play at that, you thought, contenting yourself with waiting for the opportune moment to bring it up and catch him off guard.

Taking his hand, you introduced yourself, taking a moment to get a proper look at him.

He was definitely cute, despite spying on you. Maybe your stay in Hawkins wouldn’t be so dull after all, provided Steve Harrington didn’t turn out to be a total creep.

“I’m pretty sure I definitely would’ve remembered if we’d met before,” Steve said, releasing your hand, though his warmth lingered on your palm. “So uh, what’re you doing next door?” he asked, looking you up and down discreetly.

“It’s my aunt’s place. She’s out of town right now, but she said I could stay for a bit til I get back on my feet. I just quit my job,” you explained, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions about your former profession.

“Oh, bummer. About your job, I mean! Not that you’re here,” Steve added quickly, making you laugh.

“It’s okay, I was ready for a change,” you said, shrugging, shifting your weight. “Guess that officially makes us neighbors then.”

Steve nodded, grinning. “Guess it does,” he mused, his voice trailing off as if he were lost in thought.

“You gunna invite me in, or make me stand here all night?” you prompted, raising an amused brow at him and Steve shook himself.

“You hungry? I just pulled a frozen pizza out of the oven,” he offered, gesturing over his shoulder and your stomach chose that moment to remind you how hungry you still were.

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, hoping Steve hadn’t heard your stomach’s impatient rumble. “You live here alone?” you asked, letting your eyes wander as you followed him in, Steve leading you to the kitchen.

“Nah, with my parents,” he answered with a grimace. “But dad’s on a business trip and mom went with,” he explained, rifling through one of the drawers for a pizza cutter.

“That’s nice,” you mused, opening the fridge to peer inside curiously.

“Not really,” Steve muttered, turning to pull a couple plates from the cupboard and hand you one. “Mom’s only there cause she doesn't trust him.”

“Ohh, I see,” you murmured and Steve let out a heavy sigh, divvying up the pizza slices onto your plates.

“I don’t wanna be anything like him,” he said quietly and you wondered if he’d meant for you to hear or not, hastily clearing his throat and moving on from the subject. “You want a beer?”

“Yeah, alright,” you replied, accepting the cold can he passed you from the fridge.

“C’mon, let’s eat by the pool,” Steve suggested, leading you through the large open living room and out the sliding glass door to the stone paved patio.

His parents were clearly loaded, but earlier you’d noticed him wearing a Family Video vest, so either daddy’d cut him off, or he didn’t want his family’s money, and you briefly wondered which was the case.

Steve pulled a couple lounge chairs next to each other and gestured for you to sit, sprawling out next to you. “So, how long do you plan on staying in Hawkins?” he asked, taking a bite of his pizza and cracking his beer open one handed.

Leaning back in your seat, you chewed your pizza thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you mused, washing down your pizza with a swig of beer. “Guess it depends if there’s anything here worth sticking around for.”

When your eyes flicked back to Steve, you watched him swallow, his own gaze quickly darting away. “I could show you around, y’know, if you want,” he offered, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug, aiming for nonchalance and your lips twitched.

“I’d like that,” you said, picking one of the pepperonis from your pizza slice and popping it in your mouth, sucking the sheen of grease from your fingers.

When you once again caught Steve staring, his beer can half raised to his lips, hovering midair as if he’d forgotten how to drink, you decided it was time to go for the kill.

“I’m starting to think you have a staring problem, Steve Harrington.”

At your words, Steve gave a jerk, spluttering into his can in alarm and you had to bite back a grin at his reaction.

“What do you mean?” he exclaimed, thumping his chest with a fist as he coughed.

“Well, there was that time in the driveway, just now, and… when you watched me undress through your window,” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Did you get a nice show?” you asked and Steve’s brown eyes widened, his mouth falling open before stumbling over a hasty apology.

“I-I only saw for like an instant!” he argued, holding his hands up. “It was no big deal, really.”

“No big deal?” you repeated, scoffing quietly and Steve hastily backpedaled, wincing at the offended look on your face.

“I mean, not like that. You looked great, but I–I didn’t–! Look, I’m sorry,” he insisted, chancing an apologetic glance at you and your expression softened for an instant before turning impish.

“So, what are we gunna do about this?” you mused, giving him a pointed look, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What do you mean? Can’t you just accept my apology?” Steve asked warily, a frown tugging at his lips.

“You saw me. I think it’s only fair that we even the score,” you insisted, leaning back in your chair, watching him expectantly.

“You really expect me to strip right here?” he scoffed, an incredulous note to his voice.

“You got a little show, now it’s my turn, pretty boy. It’s only fair,” you pointed out, your lips turning down in a pout. “Are you shy?” you mocked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine,” he replied, pushing up from his seat and pulling his sweater over his head, tossing it at you before toeing off his shoes and undoing his jeans, dropping them to stand before you in his underwear and socks, heat licking up his neck at the way you stared, your gaze traveling over him appraisingly.

“Not bad, but I think you’re forgetting something,” you said, your lips twitching in amusement. “I want the whole package,” you insisted, pointing to his crotch and Steve’s face flared hotter. “C’mon, I think that’s enough,” he argued halfheartedly, but your sharp look held him in place.

“Fine, guess I’ll just go home then,” you said with a shrug, making to push out of your chair. “It was nice meeting you, Steve–”

“Wait–!” he exclaimed, and you paused, turning back to look at him. “Alright fine,” he huffed, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down, letting them pool at his ankles.

“You happy now?” he asked, throwing his hands up and you bit your lip as your eyes went to his package. He was definitely well endowed.

“Yep,” you replied, playfully popping the p, your eyes returning to his. “You know, you’re lucky your back yard is pretty secluded,” you pointed out and he snorted, standing there awkwardly, while trying not to look awkward.

“How long do I have to stand here like this?” Steve asked and you tapped your lip, pretending to think.

“I guess that’s long enough. But before you get dressed…” you trailed off, standing up and walking closer to him, noticing the way his eyes widened and his breath hitched, wondering what you were about to do. “Let’s go for a dip,” you finished, giving him a shove into the pool, laughing as he hit the water and came up spluttering, shaking his hair out of his face.

“What was that for–?”

Steve’s exclamation died on his tongue when he noticed you were stripping as well and he didn’t know whether to turn away or if you wanted him to look this time, though you didn’t give him much of a chance, diving into the water as soon as you dropped your clothes to the ground.

When you surfaced, you wiped the water from your face and grinned as you swam toward Steve.

“So are we even now?” he asked, a smile of his own curving his lips and you laughed.

“Yeah, I’d say so. For now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve retorted, his eyebrows climbing.

“I mean, I’m just assuming you’ll do something stupid again,” you laughed, pushing a wave of water at him playfully.

Steve splashed you back with a smirk. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” he agreed. “So what else do you do for fun, y’know, besides torturing people?” he teased.

You couldn’t help but study him for a moment–the square curve of his jaw, his chestnut hair stuck wetly to his forehead and the dark moles that littered his neck and shoulders. There were two on his cheek in the perfect spot for kissing.

“I uhm, I like photography and dancing, going to the movies or skating, and swimming,” you answered, huffing a soft laugh. “Though I should probably start job searching soon,” you sighed.

“What was your old job?” Steve asked and you dropped your gaze, wondering if you should just rip off the band aid and tell him. But you liked him, and you liked the way he looked at you… If you told him the truth it would make things weird, it always did.

Would it be so bad if he didn’t know?

You could make a fresh start in Hawkins. No one knew your face. There’d be no more awkward stares or lewd come-ons, just a sweet guy that seemed to like you for you and who hadn’t taken advantage of the fact that you were both naked in his pool. Maybe for once you could just feel normal.

“It was dumb, I’m just glad I quit,” you murmured, avoiding giving him a real answer. “I wanna make a fresh start, maybe go to college, I dunno yet.”

Steve nodded, sobering as he watched you tread water, bobbing in place, carefully keeping his eyes on your face. “So… do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, floating closer, and you dipped below the water slightly to hide the giddy smile that tugged at your lips.

“No. Do you have a girlfriend?” you asked, biting your lip when a dazed grin spread across Steve’s face.

“Nope,” he chuckled. “I’d like one, though.”

“Mmm,” you mused, scrunching up your brow in thought. “Yeah, I think you do need one,” you teased, kicking your feet lazily as you tilted your head. “But what kind?”

“Well, for starters, someone cute, and sweet, and clever–” Steve began to list, his gaze never leaving your face as he continued to describe you. “Definitely someone spontaneous and fun, but down to earth too, who’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit.”

You hadn’t noticed when you’d moved closer to him, your chest only inches from his, and your breath hitched at the realization, warmth spreading through you.

“She sounds pretty fantastic,” you breathed, trying to keep your voice light, Steve’s smile making you dizzy.

“Yeah, she definitely is,” he replied, his hands skimming your sides. “Any idea where I might be able to find her?”

Unable to make your voice work, you felt yourself lean in, your gaze flicking from Steve’s lips to his eyes, breathlessly waiting for his lips to claim yours as he grasped your hips, holding you close, his eyelids fluttering as his nose brushed against yours.

A loud rustling in the bushes nearby made you freeze, however, ice racing through your veins, and Steve jerked back at the same time you did, suddenly afraid the two of you weren’t alone, only to jump as a rabbit burst from the underbrush at the edge of the property to race across the yard and you threw your head back and laughed at the yelp that left Steve’s throat.

“Oh my God, you were so scared!” you exclaimed, your laughter continuing despite the splash Steve directed at you.

“So were you!” he countered, an incredulous grin twisting his relieved expression.

“Yeah, but I didn’t scream like a girl,” you pointed out, letting out a scream of your own as he swam after you, catching you easily round the waist and a wave of arousal washed over you when you felt his length brush against the curve of your ass and give a twitch.

Steve cleared his throat, hastily releasing you before either of you could become tempted to do more. And while part of you wished he hadn’t, you were glad he didn’t want to move too fast.

“I’ll uh, I’ll get you a towel, okay?” Steve said, and you caught the pink flush that suffused his cheeks before he swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out.

Averting your eyes for a moment, you couldn’t help but watch as he walked away, admiring his cute ass before he disappeared back inside the house. When he returned, a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hands, you gave him a pointed look and he huffed a soft laugh, squeezing his eyes shut as he held the towel open for you, not peeking til you were covered.

“I don’t see what the big fuss is about, you’ve already seen all of me,” he teased, his warm voice drenched in playful sarcasm.

“And it was a very nice sight,” you purred, smirking at him and patting his cheek as you passed, bending to pick up your clothes. “Walk me home?” you asked, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, shaking his head fondly, and the two of you walked around to the front of your aunt’s house.

“Thanks for the pizza and the swim,” you murmured, stopping in front of the door.

“It was my pleasure,” Steve replied, stepping closer, his damp hair falling into his eyes before he pushed it away.

“You know you owe me a real date now, right?” you asked, wetting your lips, and Steve’s grin grew.

“How about tomorrow night?”

“I think I can fit that into my schedule,” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss to his warm cheek, wanting to leave him wanting more. “Good night, Steve.”

“Good night,” he echoed softly, watching you disappear inside before finally heading back home, his stomach fluttering excitedly, the same as yours.

➺ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @santacarlahorrorshow @sailorskunk @babydollbaron @thecreelhouse @melodymunson @corrodeddeadlydoll @stevesxyellowxsweater @destroya2005

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #fic: worth the squeeze #joz.fic

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hotvintagepoll · 5 days

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Propaganda

María Félix (Doña Barbara, La Mujer sin Alma, Rio Escondido, La Cucaracha)—Maria Felix is still possibly the most well-known Mexican film actress. She turned down multiple-roles in Hollywood and a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer in order to take roles in Mexico, France, and Argentine throughout the 1940s, 50s, 60s. She was so famous and so respected as a dramatic actress that she inspired painters, novelists and poets in their own art--she was painted by Diego Rivera, Jose Orozco, Bridget Tichenor. The novelist Carlos Fuentes used her as inspiration for his protagonist in Zona Sagrada. She inspired an entire collection by Hermes. In the late 1960s Cartier made her a custom collection of reptile themed jewels. She considered herself to be powerful challenger of morality and femininity in Mexico & worldwide--she routinely played powerful women in roles with challenging moral choices and free sexuality. But even still, years after he death, she is celebrated with Google Doodles, and appearances in the movie Coco, and holidays for the anniversary of her death.

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

María Félix:

She's Thee Hot Vintage Movie Woman of México. She's absolutely gorgeous and always looks like she's about to step on you. you WILL be thankful if she does.

"María Félix is a woman -- such a woman -- with the audacity to defy the ideas machos have constructed of what a woman should be. She's free like the wind, she disperses the clouds, or illuminates them with the lightning flash of her gaze." - Octavio Paz

María Félix is one of the most iconic actresses of the Golden Era of Mexican Cinema. La Doña, as she was lovingly nicknamed, only had one son, and when her first marriage ended in divorce her ex-husband stole her only child, so she vowed that one day she’d be more influential than her ex and she’d get her son back. AND SHE DID! María Félix rejected a Hollywood acting role to start her acting career in Mexico on her own terms with El Peñón de las Ánimas (The Rock of Souls) starring alongside actor, and future third husband, Jorge Negrete. She quickly rose to incredible heights both in Mexico and abroad, later on rejecting a Hollywood starring role (Duel in the Sun) as she was already committed to the movie Enamorada at the planned filming time. Of this snubbing she said, quote: “I will never regret saying no to Hollywood, because my career in Europe was focused in [high] quality cinema. [My] india* roles are made in my country, and [my] queen roles are abroad.” (Translator notes: here the “india” role means interpreting a lower-class Mexican woman, usually thought of indigenous/native/mixed descent —which she had interpreted and reinvented throughout her acting career in Mexico— and what abroad was typically considered the Mexican woman stereotype, with the braids, long simple skirts, and sandals. This also references the expectation of her possibly helping Hollywood in perpetuating this stereotype for American audiences that lack the cultural and historical contexts of this type of role which would undermine her own efforts against this type of Mexican stereotypes while working in Europe) She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world of her time by international magazines like Life, París Match, and Esquire, and was a muse to a vast number of songwriters (including her second husband Agustin Lara,), artists, designers, and writers. Muralist Diego Rivera described her as “a monstrously perfect being. She’s an exemplary being that drives all other human beings to put as much effort as possible to be like her”. Playwriter Jean Cocteau, who worked with her in the Spanish film La Corona Negra (The Black Crown) said the following about her, “María, that woman is so beautiful it hurts”. Haute Couture houses like Dior, Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Balenciaga, Hérmes, among others, designed and dressed her throughout her life. She died on her birthday, April 8, 2002, at 88 years old, in Mexico City. She was celebrated by a parade from her home to the Fine Arts Palace in the the city’s Historic Downtown, where a multitude of people paid tribute to her. Her filmography includes 47 movies from 1942 until 1970, and only two television acting roles in 1970. She has 2 music albums, one recorded with her second husband, Agustín Lara, in 1964 titled La Voz de María y la inspiración de Agustín «The voice of María and the inspiration of Augustín», and her solo album Enamorada «In Love» in 1998. Her bespoke Cartier jewelry is exhibited alongside Elizabeth Taylor’s, Grace Kelly’s and Gloria Swanson’s. In 2018, Film Director Martin Scorsese presented a restored and remastered version of her film Enamorada in the Cannes Classics section of the Cannes Festival and Google dedicated a doodle for her 104th birthday. On august 2023 Barbie added her doll to the Tribute Collection.

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

#julie andrews #maría félix #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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writtenfangirl · 24 days

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Kismet

In which Anthony Bridgerton contemplates the meaning of life, death and love

I’ve had this scene in my notes app for so long and I always found it so beautiful but couldn’t find a character to write it for UNTIL Anthony Bridgerton came along.

Pure fluff but mentions of death.

Anthony had always been afraid of death, as much as he’d been afraid of love.

It was difficult not to be when you witness both of your parents’ deaths.

He’d seen the way his father collapsed, face purple, breaths coming out in gasps before they suddenly stopped. He saw his father’s mortal body die, saw the light in his eyes dim before they completely sputtered out. And afterwards, when the doctors could do nothing to help him, he saw his mother’s soul die with him. Her cry of anguish as Edmund Bridgerton collapsed onto the soft grass, the days after the funeral when she would not speak and she only had that vacant look in her eyes, without any sign of that light Anthony grew up seeing.

Death was not a foreign concept to Anthony Bridgerton. The fragility of his mortality and the concept of his demise, as well his failings as the Bridgerton patriarch were his most intimate friends. These were the thoughts that plagued him at night. They were the covetous brothers Benedict and Colin were not. While his brothers of flesh and blood may have been content to let him keep the title, those thoughts had looked over his shoulder, had watched his every move and decision, had waited for a single misstep for the right moment to strike.

They absolutely terrified him.

So much so that he had stopped living.

What good was it, truly, to live and to love, when life could end in a flash. When nothing you do in this world matters, when you realize that everything you held dear could be taken from you in a blink, you begin to believe that such things weren’t worth the risk.

He loves his family, that much he was sure. It was difficult not to love them when they seemed to reside in his very heart, woven into the fabric of his soul. He had no choice but to love them.

But he had a choice when it came to romantic love. He did not have to go through the pain of losing someone else, nor would he ever damn another person into loving him and losing him too. On that, he could decide.

Or, at least he thought he could.

Because love certainly came for him, as surely as he knew death would one day come for him. It came to him in the form of the most beautiful woman in the world.

Y/N Y/L/N. She was the niece of the Viscountess Heathwood. By the ton’s standards, she was nobody. Beautiful yet still, unimportant and without any significant title or dowry aside from her relation with the Viscountess. Had it not been for her staggering beauty or her education and graceful countenance, she would have been dismissed.

If you had asked the Anthony of five years ago what he thought of when he imagined his wife, a woman like Y/N would have been last on his list.

But the Anthony of five years ago was an idiot.

Because Y/N, with all her grace and beauty, had a fierce determination that not only made her befitting of the title of viscountess but also made her a great addition to the Bridgerton family.

And to Anthony, she was everything.

Love in the shape of Y/N knocked on his door, and when he had refused to answer, love barreled its way into his heart like a disease. It burrowed itself into his skin until he flushed at the mere thought of her, wormed its way into his heart until his heart beat only for her. Then, love pounded its way deep into his soul and staked a tether that tied his soul to hers.

Anthony knew that one day, death would come knocking. It would take its bony hand and place it on his shoulder, beckoning Anthony to his side.

He was still undoubtedly terrified of it.

But for Y/N, for the love his life, he would live.

“What’s got you in so morose a mood so early in the morning?” Her voice, sweet and calming, pulled him out of his stupor.

Bathed in the golden light of the dawning sun, she looked breathtaking. It should have been impossible, to be so beautiful when she’d just woken up, but Anthony knew that if anyone could make the impossible possible, it would have been her.

She was pressed against his side, her body warm and flushed against his own. His arm, wrapped around her as her head rested on his chest. The only thing that separated them was the thin fabric of their sleeping clothes but even with them on, he could feel the contours of her body. The rolling curve of her hips, the softness of her skin as his hands trailed down her arm and up again.

He’d awoken to his wife in his arms for three years now but he could never take this feeling for granted. Everyday he woke up like this was a day he was truly thankful for.

Anthony placed a tender kiss on his wife’s forehead, the little hairs on the tip of her forehead tickling his nose. “I was just deep in thought, my love.”

“About what?”

He contemplated lying to her. Admittedly, his thoughts were far too dark to share so early in the morning. But Y/N had always been adept at sussing out any falsehoods, most especially his own.

“Death.”

Her brow shot straight up, pulling away from him and propping herself up on an elbow. The thin strap of her nightgown slipped past her shoulder revealing her glorious skin, her long hair trailing down her back. The golden light that bathed her had turned into a halo against the backdrop of the window, turning her into one of God’s sacred angels. “Why the bloody hell would you think about your death so early in the morning?”

“I wasn’t thinking my death. Just death in its most general sense.”

She gave him a pointed look. “That’s not very reassuring.”

He grinned at her. He couldn’t help it, not when she was looking at him in that certain way that always had him believing he was in trouble but would receive a reward rather than a punishment. “I assure you, it is not so morbid. I was simply thinking of life’s ephemerality, and how one ought to live it for the right people.”

She didn’t look reassured but nevertheless, she laid back down, Anthony’s arm instantly enveloping her, hand absentmindedly resuming its task of drawing lazy circles on her arm. “You would think, that with my husband celebrating his birthday today, he would think of happier things. His beautiful wife, perhaps, or his kind mother, or the veritable gaggle of siblings who adored him. You would think that, perhaps, his mind would wander towards the child his wife is currently carrying. But alas, he thinks of death. I never thought death to be a celebratory topic, but to each his own.”

He flicked her nose playfully at her sarcastic tone, her mouth pulling into a grin. “If you must know, death was on my mind because today marks the day that I am officially older than my father was when he passed.”

Suddenly, whatever joy filled the air died. “Oh.”

It was the truth. In the weeks since his birthday, his every waking thought had been consumed by his father. His father, Edmund Bridgerton, who was 8th viscount of the Bridgerton family. His father, who’s death marked the biggest change of Anthony’s life. His father, who lived through the first 18 years of Anthony’s life but lived no longer.

It was a sobering thought to realize that he would have to live longer than he knew the man he looked up to his whole life.

And it was these thoughts that plagued him.

“He has been on my mind,”he murmured but he knew she would understand, “I wonder if he is proud of me.”

“Of course he is.” She had said the words with such surety, it was difficult to argue with her. But Anthony would certainly try.

“How can you be so sure?”

She gave him a leveling stare, as if he was an idiot for even asking such a question. “I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but I know he is proud of you, as proud of you as I am.” Y/N placed a hand on his cheek, the pads of her finger soft against his stubble. “How can he not be, when you have done right by your siblings? By your mother? How can he possibly feel anything but pride at his eldest son for taking care of his whole family?”

“I make such a mess of things.” He frowned. His thoughts weren’t always so desolate, not since he married Y/N. It was difficult to keep his countenance bleak when he was married to the kind of person who smiled at a family of squirrels, or grinned at the sight of a little girl giggling through the window of a shop. But today of all days, his mind strained to his faults.

But his wife, bless her, would hear none of it. “You are human, Anthony. It is in our nature to make mistakes. I am certain your father once thought his mistakes egregious but yet still, he remains great. As sure as I am of your own excellence.”

“I go days, sometimes, never thinking of him. And when I remember him again, I feel such tremendous shame and grief at having forgotten him that sometimes, I can scarcely breathe.”

Another truth, one that Anthony had been too ashamed to admit. To forget one’s father when they were alive is one thing. To do so when he was dead was another thing entirely.

Y/N’s eyes could only be described as kind. “Did you know that a person dies twice. Once, when they are well and truly buried. The second is the last time their names are ever mentioned.“

This time, it was Anthony’s turn to look at his wife in sarcasm. “This is not the reassurance you think it to be.”

But she simply gave an indulgent grin before her eyes turned serious. “I mean to say that I will never let you forget him. I will say your father’s name everyday, if I must. And one day, I will teach our children to do the same. And they will teach their children, and their children will teach their children. Edmund Bridgerton will not be forgotten under my watch.”

His heart swelled with love. It was a lofty declaration but Y/N was never one to make vows lightly. She would do it too. Y/N was relentless in the pursuit of her goals and once she set her mind on something, she did it no matter what. It’s one of Anthony’s favorite things about her and the reason why he fell in love with her in the first place.

He pressed his lips on hers. Kisses with Y/N always felt like coming alive, like an empty house suddenly having new tenants. She felt like the cool spring air turning into the summer breeze. She felt like hope and joy all at once.

When he pulled away from her, her lips were swollen, eyes twinkling. He would never take a life with her for granted, and so when he spoke, his words came from that little space in his heart reserved for Y/N that no longer trembled at the sight of death. “When I die, I shall have your name carved into my bones”

She looked at him with skepticism. “Your bones?”

“One day, in the very distant future, when my grave is found and my tombstone is missing, they will see my bones but they will say your name. I will allow the world to kill me twice but I will not let it do the same to you.”

Her eyes gleamed silver, a joyful grin pulling at her lips.

There was no declaration of love more serious, more profound, than that. For the woman who taught him to live in spite of his fear, who taught him to love because of it, he would embrace death with open arms. If only so he could meet his wife’s soul once more. Because he was certain of his need for it, as certain as his need to draw breath every morning.

They were kismet, in this life and the next.

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