#what is up with the second epilogue though???

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

-

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

-

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

-

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

-

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

-

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin #Hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin x gn reader #hazbin x male reader #hazbin x female reader #Adam x reader #adam x gn reader #adam x male reader #Adam x female reader #Hazbin hotel Adam #hazbin adam #Hazbin hotel Adam x reader #Hazbin Adam x reader #Charlie Morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #x reader #x male reader #character x male reader #fanfic #character x reader #x female reader

[nighttimescribbles]

It is finished. I am finished.

#bookblr #war and peace #tolstoy #i am truly ready to die now #it took forever and a day #once i took a months-long break from reading it #old man leo also dried up my prose but i pushed through #what is up with the second epilogue though??? #it was a true slog #my brain was so tired afterwards

[humanmorph]

i think asepsis could make lyke so much worse

#fwiw i also dont think brnine would handle aterika'kaal well. aterika'kaal just cant be handled that well - #- unless youre willing to actually feed it #hmmm. (thinking of ways to satiate atertika'kaal without having it straight-up kill people) #. god i just want lyke to have a second shot with aterika'kaal it would be so stupid of him but i want him to go for it so so so bad #and it works either way if he does still have amnesia coming back in sangfielle 2 or if he doesnt #(im still not sure on this i have it in memory as being somewhat vague at the end of his epilogue) #i think id like it better if he didnt because everyone would be sooo mad at him. then again if he did everyone would be soo mad at him stil #hed just be like what come on. im not gonna make the same mistakes as that other guy(me who i dont remember) #rosa rambles #i shant have expectations that can be disappointed but its so fun to think about it just is #thinking about lyke always has me smiling serenely.i like that guy i enjoy him #i also got offtrack and actually forgot what i had to say about asepsis.sorry #i still think im right though.

[oh-meow-swirls]

love writing stuff for me rewrite of 2 when i'm not even done with my rewrite of 1 yet. </3

#puppy rambles #puppy's yw1 rewrite #might change that tag now actually- #puppy's yw rewrite #there #will probably go back n add that to older posts eventually- #anyways #katie forester #jibanyan #whisper #first two were intended to be from a prologue for 2 but they'll probably work better as epilogues for 1 with some changes- #i will give 2 a prologue though. probably same with 3 but blunder n folly are useless so can't just adapt the opening cutscene- #seriously why do they exist. what is the point. is it just so we have a way to do chapter previews for nate's story #n so we can reference level 5- #the ''it's a level 5 rating'' or whatever in the opening cutscene cracked me up. i had to pause the game to laugh a lil #i had to do that a few times while playing 3- #anyways. last one is probably gonna be from 2's first chapter but maybe second #love the friendship between nate/katie whisper n jibanyan (n komasan in my rewrite) #they care for each other even if they're assholes sometimes- #said assholery is a lot of nate being an asshole to whisper n jibanyan. n jibanyan being an asshole to nate n whisper #n whisper being like ''nate you can't blame yo-kai for everything'' *there's a yo-kai* *acts shocked* #n it's just like. nate's been dealing with yo-kai for at least a few months at this rate- #(i remember at one point whisper says it's been two months but also a school year ended n started n also it was valentine's day) #(n i'm pretty sure that was in the shogunyan episode so a while back from where i am-) #of course his intuition's good. does average = bad intuition according to whisper fskldjfdksldf- #i think one of my favorite moments of their friendship in the anime is in the episode with yoodooit #where jibanyan acts kind of upset after he uses paws of fury on nate n whisper n they fake dying #(what is it with the anime n characters faking dying-) #like. i'm pretty sure it was just to get yoodooit to fucking stop n he wasn't actually upset over it #but it's just. THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER OKAY-

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study

Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.

Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.

Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.

Those are his emotional support slurs.

Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.

Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.

He's Sad.

The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.

Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.

Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:

Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.

The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.

At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.

Compare Feferi: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.

To Eridan: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.

So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.

Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!

Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.

But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.

Which brings us to our next point:

Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.

If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.

If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.

Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.

Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.

(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.

He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.

He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.

NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.

Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.

SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.

We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.

KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties

Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."

And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!

CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble

You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).

Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:

CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!

One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.

And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.

CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:

Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated

Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay

In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.

Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:

CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry

CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway

It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!

THEY don't even think he's being casteist.

In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:

CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ

He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:

CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies

So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.

That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.

The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.

Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.

The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!

And it's all made worse because:

Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)

Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)

CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about

What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.

This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.

CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.

This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.

So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.

And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:

ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.

It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.

I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.

So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?

Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -

Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It

So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.

What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.

At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.

The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though

("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")

The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:

CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly

And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.

It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)

So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?

See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":

FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.

Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:

PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.

He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.

You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:

KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.

That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?

That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:

TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole

He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:

TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on

Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,

Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.

Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).

Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.

Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.

And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:

CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it

Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:

PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it

Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.

But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).

So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)

But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:

GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.

But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:

CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.

In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:

But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:

PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.

It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:

CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

To:

CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.

Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:

A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.

It also goes on to note:

But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.

But what's really interesting is the next page.

And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.

Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.

(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)

In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...

The crab has always been there for him.

It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:

TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)

When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.

There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.

First, they both do the bonk:

Second:

CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.

Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):

CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.

Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:

The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.

And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:

Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.

So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:

ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)

So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...

Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)

So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.

I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."

Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.

So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.

It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.

It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.

I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.

The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.

Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.

Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.

Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.

Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.

Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.

There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.

Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:

The Prophecy

ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.

ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized

GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway

Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)

But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.

Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.

Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.

That last one is actually relevant to:

The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates

Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.

Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.

Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.

But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.

Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.

In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.

But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.

Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.

Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.

Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.

Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.

Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.

Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.

Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.

Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.

Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).

And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.

I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?

This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.

This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!

Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.

Thank you for reading.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #karkat vantas #erikar #im also going to tag all the other trolls that feature because yeah. #vriska serket #feferi peixes #nepeta leijon #equius zahhak #gamzee makara #kanaya maryam

[stormhearty]

Pushed to the Edge

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.

Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice�� Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”

Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.

You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.

After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.

They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.

But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.

“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”

“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”

The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.

It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.

It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.

You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.

But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.

Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.

You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.

During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.

But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.

When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.

They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.

You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.

The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.

“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”

“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”

Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”

It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.

A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.

“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.

“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”

Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.

The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.

“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.

Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.

“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”

“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.

You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.

“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”

Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.

You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.

Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.

“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.

“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.

“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”

Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.

You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”

Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.

So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.

That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.

Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.

That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.

You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.

“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.

And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.

A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.

“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.

“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.

You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.

“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.

A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”

You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar angst #a court of thorns and roses #( .one shot : pushed to the edge )

[fangirl-dot-com]

Epilogue - Sign of the Times

Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes… 

Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed. 

“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” 

You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…

Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier. 

Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms. 

Oh yeah. 

You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost. 

“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” 

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms. 

“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!” 

Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold. 

Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship.  However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!

liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others

y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱

y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER

box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC

y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming

landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy

y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺

lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY

If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

“CHARLIE!”

The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap. 

The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd. 

When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips. 

“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.” 

A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there. 

For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year. 

But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years. 

You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way. 

You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why. 

You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly. 

“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.” 

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times,  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 

Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.

“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.” 

Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too. 

“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.” 

“I’ll miss you Lew.” 

“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.” 

Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red. 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others

y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??

rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!

maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know

charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌

landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨

olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win

formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!

Just stop your crying it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here  Just stop your crying, have the time of your life  Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here

The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it. 

“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out. 

The older man rolled his eyes. 

“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?” 

A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking. 

Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day. 

Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand. 

Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing. 

The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm. 

After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms. 

You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands. 

Arthur just cried a bit more. 

The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family. 

Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027. 

Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on. 

The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own. 

The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself. 

Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words. 

“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.” 

We can meet again somewhere  Somewhere far away from here…

Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle. 

“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight. 

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.” 

During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid. 

Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee. 

You couldn’t wait to gain a sister. 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍

liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others

y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship

maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺

y/n.89 forever is too short

arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity

landonorris gag.

charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz

y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys

landonorris yes ma'am

y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships. 

The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return. 

Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage. 

“MAXIE!” 

The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics. 

Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur. 

With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.  

Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had. 

The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up. 

“Hey kid.”

You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug. 

“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.” 

Max only looked down at you with a smile. 

“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.” 

“Sure Maximillian.” 

We never learn, we been here before 

Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it. 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?” 

He put a hand on your shoulder. 

“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙

liked by leclercfam, y/nsnumber1, kellypiquet, and 8,230,185 others

leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE

rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???

charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚

maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it

charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier

y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time

charles_leclerc HA

maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand

y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”  

Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes. 

“Help us.”

Your husband only looked at them with pity. 

“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.” 

Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer. 

Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex. 

“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.” 

Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father. 

“But Max doesn’t!” 

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 

Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly. 

Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing. 

“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal. 

Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.

“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing. 

“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.” 

Max tried to give you a smile. 

“Surprise?”

You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed. 

“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.” 

Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy. 

She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them. 

“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out. 

And Lottie was right. 

Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.

Only four more to go. 

Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here 

You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night. 

You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport. 

The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso). 

Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. 

You looked up at your husband. 

“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?” 

Arthur looked at you with a smile. 

“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.” 

You peered up at him. 

“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.” 

Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours. 

Arthur sighed. 

“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.” 

“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.” 

He knew you were teasing. 

“It is all jokes ma chéri.” 

Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.  

“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.” 

Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles. 

The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?” 

The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.” 

Mark clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.” 

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know

liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others

leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀

y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭

landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?

oscarpiastri and me?

logansargeant and me?????

olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝

y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you

iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends

We never learn, we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets We never learn we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…

You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money. 

But you had done it. Finally. 

Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time. 

You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly. 

You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted. 

We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much

At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year. 

You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.

(Yes, even Esteban). 

The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them. 

It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first. 

On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep. 

Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love. 

You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.” 

A quick pinch was given to your leg. 

“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part. 

Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly. 

“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.” 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others

y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!

formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ

y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull

maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original

charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull

sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here

redbullracing we love you all equally

y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho

author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden

Will we ever learn?  We’ve been here before It’s just what we know

At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun. 

Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone. 

Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine. 

After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042. 

In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to. 

Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now. 

Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours. 

Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them. 

Because in the end, you didn’t need them. 

A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset. 

“Why are you crying chéri?” 

Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away. 

You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.

“I’m happy, so happy.” 

Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 6

If You Told Me To

Azriel Eris x Reader

Eris has a little chat with Azriel. As Y/N braces herself to face her mate for the first time since leaving him - she calls in reinforcements. Eris calls in one of his own.

A/n: This is the second to last chapter of the series. Chapter 7 will be the final chapter followed by an epilogue. I have been excited to share this chapter as, lyrically, the song it’s titled after is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Language

The Shadowsinger sat chained in a cell beneath the Autumn Keep. Comfortably lit, temperature regulated, nothing egregious. There was a dark, selfish part of Eris that would not have minded a bit of suffering to befall the male, a little seemed fair given the hell he’d put Y/N through. But Eris couldn’t do that to her. Certainly there was a small part of the mating instinct that would have left her in pain to see her mate - a title he didn’t deserve - hurting.

Eris begrudgingly placed a glamour over her scent that clung to his skin like fine perfume, such a waste to cover it with his own autumnal blend. It was not his place to explain or unveil anything regarding the relationship between them, Eris would have to tread carefully in his questioning.

He almost, almost said “fuck the glamour” and let that intoxicating-as-hell summer storm scent of hers fill the air and marched straight to the dungeons in his sweats and a linen tee, let him see exactly what Eris had been up to all morning. The look on the Shadowsinger’s face would have been so damned satisfying.

Alas, he chose to play the part of pompous High Lord, dressing in the most lordly of attire.

“Well, well, well, what brings you to my humble abode, Shadowsinger? You could have just knocked.”

Azriel snarled through his gag, nose flaring. To put it lightly, he looked rough. His once golden skin paled, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes, and multiple large purple bruises littered his skin.

“Ah, right.” Eris cleared his throat, giving the tattered male before him a disapproving stare. With a quick flick of his wrist the gag disappeared.

“Just let me fucking talk to her.” Azriel growled, his shadows darkening the cell.

Eris inspected his cuticles, refusing to drop the air of irreverence he’d intentionally given off. “Who would you like to speak with, Shadowsinger?”

“You fucking know.” He growled, rage limning each word.

“Say her name.” Eris replied cooly. Needing to make a point to himself.

“Y/N.”

And in that moment Eris realized just how far gone he was in his desire for Y/N. It was dangerous, the fiery rage that burned through his chest at the sacrilege of her sacred name falling from his desecrated lips.

Though Eris refrained from any external display of that inferno blazing inside of him, the slight tick in his jaw must have given him away to the awaiting Spymaster.

Azriel pulled and jerked with all of his might against the chains and Eris was well aware of his power, the entire Autumn Court was. Eris had backup measures in place that - even with his contempt toward the male - he did not wish to use.

“Stop pulling on the chains, Azriel.” Eris commanded.

The use of his given name instead of Eris’ typical “Shadowsinger” caught Azriel’s attention and the look alone on the his face could have killed a lesser male as Azriel’s furious gaze met Eris’

“If you fucking hurt her, I will rip you apart limb by limb. I will make it slow-“

Eris cut him off. “Was it those theatrics that won her heart, Shadowsinger? Truly, you bore me.” Eris returned to examining his nails.

“Fuck you.” Azriel growled.

Eris would ask Y/N’s forgiveness later for what he was about to say. At least he’d made an honest effort to keep his feelings for her separate from the situation at hand.

Without missing a beat, the High Lord goaded, “Funny you should say that. Was it not your fucking around that put you in this position in the first place?”

Azriel lost it. Eris couldn’t recall a time in his centuries of living that he’d seen such display of rage. He yanked at the chains with all of his might, his centuries of strength training apparent as the sounds of the rage and the grinding of stone on metal filled the cell. His efforts nearly successful in ripping free from the wall.

“I’ve asked you once to quit pulling, Shadowsinger. You are in here with just cause and will answer as such. You can behave like a civil being or continue the brute act and I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.” With that, fire sparked and was contained within his palm.

Azriel banked slightly at the display and for a moment Eris felt a twinge of remorse as his eyes landed on those scarred hands.

“Spare me your pity, High Lord.” Azriel spat the title with venom.

Eris shook his head, pacing alongside the cell. “Oh but I do pity you, Shadowsinger. Not in the way I hold back my fire given your past circumstances, that is basic decency on my part.”

With a mock bow, he continued,

“What I pity is how you wage such concern over Y/N’s well-being within my palace walls while blatantly disregarding the fact that you are the one who broke her with your own two hands. And now that she has built herself back up shard by fractured shard into something far stronger, even more rare than the shining gem she already was, you appear like a thief in the night. What is your plan, Azriel? Are you here to break her again?

Eris stepped closer to the cell. Flame igniting those amber eyes as he crouched down face to face with the bound Shadowsinger, grounding out in a low, predatory tone. “Because you won’t this time. Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.”

And with that, Eris stood back up, placed his hands in his pockets, that casual irreverence once again masking his features. “And I find diamonds to be quite precious, so I’ll be sure to cherish mine with the tender, loving care that she deserves.”

Azriel seethed, shadows raging violently within the cell. And Eris wasn’t certain but he could have sworn that anger was directed at their master himself.

Eris waited for more violence, for the filth that would spill from his mouth but the Shadowsinger only hung his head low, and to Eris’ surprise, large, salty tears began falling from his face.

Eris said nothing as Azriel sobbed. Why kick the male when he’d already downed himself? So Eris stood and waited. Eventually Azriel looked up again, “Please, just let me talk to her.”

Eris paused, taking stock of the broken male before him.

Just when it appeared to Azriel that he’d deny him, Eris replied. “You are fortunate that your mate is far more benevolent than I, she has agreed to speak with you.”

Azriel let out a large, broken sigh of relief.

Eris only smirked. “But she has conditions.”

—————————

I don’t want to look back on these days, knowing all the things you’d never know if I never said a word and let you go.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Eris spoke softly.

“I do, Eris. What he did, it’s too much. Too far. If you weren’t the ruler that you are, this might have been treated as an act of war.”

Eris shook his head. “You’re right. What he did is not acceptable by any means. But you, you shouldn’t have to deal with this after all you’ve been through.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” She spoke firmly.

He pulled her in closely, resting his chin on her head, those warm arms wrapped tightly around her easing the bitter cold threatening to frost her heart. “He never deserved you.”

Eris knew a mask when he saw one. Knew them far too well. Beneath the strong exterior she was presenting, his brave girl was nervous as hell.

I don't want to steal you away or make you change the things that you believe.

Eris escorted Y/N to a large meeting space by a roaring fire, sitting her at the head of the table, he to her right. One with a lesser sense of hearing might have missed the increase of her heart rate. That mask beginning to slip.

“Look at me, minx.”

Her glassy eyes met his as he reached forward, his hands enveloping hers. “You owe nothing to anyone. Nobody. Not to the Night Court, to my Court, or even to the Summer Court beyond what Tarquin has contracted you to do, and you especially owe nothing to the Shadowsinger.”

Her lip quivered and he spared her the discomfort of replying right away by continuing, “If it is your choice to hear him out, I commend you. You are far more brave and strong than you realize, and the fact that you are giving him your time today is an act of kindness in itself. Do not feel that you are obligated to comfort him or give your forgiveness.”

Eris lightly placed a broad palm on her chest. “What’s in there points true. Follow your heart, little fox. Do not do or say anything for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

Eris gave her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. His thumb brushed soothing strokes over the back of her hand as she composed herself.

Her voice cracked only slightly when she asked, “Is what I’m doing wrong? Are my conditions too harsh?”

Eris took a moment. Her heart racing like the best of a hummingbird’s wings as she awaited his response. He didn’t want to steer her any particular direction. Obviously, he wanted her by his side. Hell, he needed her by his side, she was as essential as water to him at this point. But her happiness and well-being mattered more than his needs.

He didn’t want her to go back to the Night Court as he knew Azriel would try convincing her to do. A selfish part of him begged to take her hand and bow on his knees before her. He was at her will and would serve her for the rest of his days should she only ask. But she needed to make this choice for herself. She was a summer storm, his little fox, who was he to stop her from flowing whatever direction she willed its winds to take her.

So, he wouldn’t ask her to stay or think of him at all during this meeting with her mate. However, he would emphasize what she likely already knew, that he had already fallen in love with her. That he fell in love with her spirit the moment that filthy string of curses fell from her pretty mouth when they met that first day. He wouldn’t pressure her by speaking those words aloud just yet, but he could show her in the best way he knew how given the circumstances, by empowering her.

“Y/N,” he broke the silence. “I meant what I told you. What you are doing today is brave. You are strong. To face a male who has not earned your time or presence in front of his own family to hear out his side of things, or whatever it is he wishes to say - you are so much stronger than you realize. Do not worry about what he or anyone at this table will think or feel. You hear him out and you choose what is right for you. The only person owed anything today is you and what you’re owed is peace. You deserve the world, fox.”

Those shining eyes of hers welled up. He lifted her chin with a long finger, “No tears, little one. You go in there and you take your power back. I will be out there.” He nodded toward a corridor to the eastern wing of the keep. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be waiting for you.”

She placed a delicate hand on Eris’ muscled bicep. ���Eris…”

“Yes, fox?”

“I don’t want to do this alone.”

I want to drink from the words you say and be everything you need.

The creak of an oak door captured their attention. A sentry entered the room, his steps echoing throughout. “High Lord, Lady, the guests are arriving.” The sentry looked to Eris, “along with the guest you personally requested.”

Y/N turned toward Eris, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Bring her in.” He replied to the sentry, turning to face Y/N. “I thought you may want someone in your corner for this meeting.”

————-

Camila, Y/N’s sister, burst through the door, all bronze skin, bouncing black curls, and smiles. “Sister!!!” She squealed.

Y/N looked to Eris. Immense gratitude radiating from her lovely face. He nodded toward Camila, gesturing to go to her. The sisters ran to eachother, nearly tackling one another to the floor.

Camila giggled, gasping as she fought to catch her breath. “I saw a red-headed male outside with long hair, gorgeous tan skin, a wicked smile, and-“ she whispered not-so-subtly in her sisters ear “worship worthy thighs, handcrafted by the gods themselves.” She dropped the whisper act, continuing, “Oh my gods, Y/N, and a scar over his eye! Giving him that sexy mysterious look that you only ever read about in smutty novels.”

Eris choked as he realized who she was talking about, capturing the attention of Camila. “If I’d known what you were hiding here, High Lord, I’d have ventured over from the Summer Court much sooner.”

“I hate to disappoint you, Camila, but Lucien lives in the Day Court when he’s not at his apartment in Velaris.”

Camila’s mouth dropped into an “O” as she realized who the male was. “Well, onto the next one then. Who else are you hiding around here for me to fall in love with?”

The laughter was broken when the Oak Door opened again, a sentry announcing the next guests. “the High Lord of the Night Court and his general.”

Darkness suddenly overtook the room, and an instinctual part of Y/N caused her to pale. She’d very rarely seen Rhysand’s darkness so adamant, and it was never a good thing. Cassian kept a straight, stoic face, warrior’s stance on full display. This male, this was the Lord of Bloodshed and not the lovable giant she’d known for decades.

She remained frozen, Camila gasping in horror before deciding that she’d rather stare daggers at the brothers of the male who cheated on her little sister. Rhysand took in the room, paying no mind to Camila’s violent glare. When he realized Azriel was not in the room, his eyes landed on Y/N and the darkness immediately faded away. Rhys’ expression softened as he directed his footsteps toward her, opening his mouth to speak, but it was Cassian who yelled, “Y/N babygirl! Look at you!”

The giant male bound right past Rhys, running to her. Leaving no time for Y/N to brace herself as he whisked her up into a bone crushing hug, spinning her in circles. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Never leave without saying goodbye again.”

As soon as Cassian said it, he faltered, gently setting her back down with his eyes downcast. “I had no idea, Y/N. We only found out the real reason why you left yesterday.”

Eris gave distance to the trio so she could speak with the males, Camila coming to his side. Eris couldn’t help smirking at the glare she gave to the Night Court’s High Lord and Cassian. He leaned in to her ear, his low voice barely a rumble, “I’d never admit this to them but while they are brutes, they’re not so bad.”

Camila only scoffed, waiving a dismissive hand in his direction.

It was true. Rhysand had given her space to heal but regularly sent check-in’s to the Summer and Autumn Court High Lords to ensure her well-being. Both Tarquin and Eris had to swear not to tell her, but Rhysand had contributed significantly to Y/N’s extremely generous salary as emissary between the courts. She didn’t know what emissary’s typically made so she never thought about it, but it certainly was not the substantial amount that she was being paid.

Once Cassian was finished fawning over his “favorite little ass-kicker” Rhys stepped forward.

“Y/N” he said. Eyes roaming up and down her body. She was more filled in and fit than she had been when he last saw her, the radiance had returned to her skin, the light in her eyes shone bright as the stars of Velaris. Gods, he’d forgotten the way his brother’s mate rivaled even the most vibrant of summer sunsets.

She held her chin high, meeting her former High Lord’s violet gaze. Rhys pulled her close and she melted into his arms. Not just her former High Lord but her friend. She knew this. And the warmth of his strong arms embracing her reminded her of exactly that.

That stinging rejection of Azriel’s betrayal had somewhat tainted her view of the Inner Circle’s love for her. They had accepted her into their little family immediately when she and Azriel mated and she thought they’d dismiss her just as quickly when she left.

His breaking of what they had did not change that the inner circle cared for her. Rhys held her close for nearly a minute, burying his face into the top of her head, whispering how sorry he was for not realizing just how awry things had gone with Azriel and Elain. She felt guilty for leaving them.

“Don’t you for one moment regret this, Y/N. You will always have a place in my home but there are bigger things in this world for you.” He nodded toward Eris briefly with a cheeky expression that felt a lot like understanding, approval even.

She swatted at him. “Get out of my head, busybody.”

“It was written all over your face, darling.” He shrugged.

Cassian cut in. “We wanted to come in first to assess the situation. Everyone else is in the entry hall. Are you sure about this, Y/N? You don’t have to see him if you’re not ready.”

Darkness flared around Rhys again as he nodded in agreement.

She stepped to Eris’ side with renewed confidence. “I’m ready.”

Eris commanded his sentries. “Go ahead and bring them in.”

Resisting the urge to press a parting kiss to her forehead, he gave a reassuring brush of his hand against hers and began to step away.

She grabbed his wrist. “Please, stay.”

Her pleading eyes spoke what she couldn’t “I can’t do this without you.”

So, he stayed by her side as they waited for the impending shit show to unfold.

I could be so good at loving you, but only if you told me to.

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#sarah j maas #acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #daddy eris #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #acotar x hunter hayes #rainy season

[writingsbychlo]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue

summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.

word count; 3171

notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3

Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 

Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 

Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 

“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 

“Hi, Azzy.”

Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 

Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 

Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 

Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 

He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”

You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”

“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 

“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 

“Care to share any of these thoughts?”

“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”

“I do that a lot too.”

You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 

There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 

The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 

The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 

Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”

Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 

“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”

You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 

Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 

Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 

Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 

You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 

“You’re here, you made it!”

Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 

“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”

Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”

You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 

Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 

“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 

“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 

“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 

“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 

“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”

“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”

She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 

Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 

The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,

Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 

Then, there was you and Azriel.

Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”

You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”

“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 

“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”

“You’re impatient!”

“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 

“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”

Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 

“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”

Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 

Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 

A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.

“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”

“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 

“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 

Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 

He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 

“What did you ladies talk about?”

“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”

“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”

You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”

He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 

“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”

“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 

“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”

Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 

Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.

“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”

“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 

“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 

“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”

“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 

“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”

#under the mistletoe #UTMi #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

[sports-on-sundays]

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

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[roosterr]

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

@madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Three

One | Two

I usually try to throw out updates weekly but I got possessed by the muse for Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins and, like, finished the main chapters for that in a daze hfjdk I still need to write the two epilogues, but needed a little break, so here we are!

Part three has Eddie confirming his suspicions, like two seconds of angst that is immediately thrown out the window, and a little flirting UwU

I hope you enjoy! As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

----

Something hits Steve in the back of the head. He'd be upset if not for the fact that he's facing away from Dustin and gave the kid paper for the express purpose of throwing if he needs Steve's attention. After much trial and error, the system finally works for them.

Steve sets down the plate he was washing (the aftermath of Dustin asking for grilled cheese sandwiches and annoying Steve until he caved) and turns, drying his hands on a dish towel. "What's up?"

Dustin's chest and arms are sprawled across the table, looking for all intents and purposes that he'd collapsed from sheer boredom or frustration. When Steve speaks, though, he sits up straight so Steve can see his mouth properly. "Can you pick me up tomorrow?"

"I thought your mom was."

"She told me this morning that she got saddled with a last minute thing."

Steve frowns, slowly parsing through Dustin's mouth movement and trying to find the shape of words. He doesn't get all of them, but he gets enough to understand the problem. "Oh," he says, "yeah, sure. Right after school?"

Dustin shakes his head, pushing his biology homework away so he can lean forward. "Hellfire is tomorrow. Eddie says it's gonna be in the math classroom. Can you meet me there at 4:30?"

Somehow, Steve immediately recognizes Eddie's name. Unsurprisingly, it makes him think of the guy, and his mind happily offers up the memory of Eddie laughing on stage. Steve struggles to push the memory aside, at least moving it to a corner until he can properly reminisce later.

"Which math room?" Steve asks, hoping Dustin doesn't notice a longer than normal delay in his response.

He doesn't, if his relieved and happy grin is anything to go by. "213," Dustin says. He then pauses, as if suddenly thinking of something. "Also, uh, maybe wait in the next hall or something. Don't let Eddie see you."

"Why can't Eddie see me?" he asks. Has Eddie been complaining about Steve lately? Has Dustin spent the past week listening to Eddie insult or make fun of Steve for...something he did at the Hideout? Did he not act normal enough?

Well, it's probably not that last one. Robin is great at elbowing Steve when someone is talking to him. She's saved him from numerous awkward situations with that move. It's almost worth the bruise he'll inevitably get from her sharp elbow.

"He won't, like, shut up about you," Dustin says, his nose wrinkling some in disgust and distorting the shape of his mouth. He waits until his expression is under control to add, "He can't get over you attending his gig or something. Keeps saying it's weird that "King Steve" likes metal."

"Oh."

Steve feels his shoulders grow heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He can't hear how Dustin is saying the words, and Dustin's expression isn't animated enough for Steve to glean any kind of tone. But experience has taught Steve that Eddie is probably complaining, even if Dustin isn't saying it outright.

Now that he's thinking about it, it probably was weird for Steve to just show up to a heavy metal gig. He's never shown any sign of liking the genre to others before. Then again, he's pretty skilled at passing for completely "normal" to other people. That results in him being King Steve, though, and that version of him might be all that Eddie can see, which would make his appearance at the Hideout pretty fucking awkward, huh?

Steve is so lost in his thoughts and the feeling of remorse and embarrassment and frustration that he almost misses how Dustin rolls his eyes, his shoulders jerking with a scoff. He pays attention just in time to watch as Dustin says, "Yeah, so if he sees you, he'll probably grill you on your favorite bands or something. He's, like, obsessed with figuring out all the other freak things about you. His words, by the way."

It's a lot all at once, and Steve ends up asking Dustin to repeat himself twice before he can fully comprehend everything. Despite the slightly annoyed look, Dustin doesn't complain. When he finally understands each word, that weight lifts from Steve's shoulders, the sudden emotional whiplash making him feel a little floaty.

"That's why he can't see me?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Dustin and leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah, it'll take forever. It's like when Mom runs into a friend and just stands there talking for a whole hour," Dustin complains, sprawling himself across the table once more when he's done speaking.

Steve snorts and leans over, ruffling his hair and jerking his hand back before Dustin can smack it. "I promise we wouldn't talk for an hour, but I'm not going to avoid Eddie. If he sees me, he sees me."

Dustin doesn't need to know that a small part of Steve really hopes Eddie sees him, deafness and all. And maybe he'll even like what he sees.

----

Eddie Munson is not stupid.

Well, his grades and teachers would beg to differ, so he'll rephrase that.

Eddie Munson is a fantastic DM, which means he regularly takes a big plot twist and sprinkles hints of it throughout each session of a campaign. Doing this means being able to put those puzzle pieces back together, too, and ensuring they lead up to the logical plot twist. So, Eddie's brain is great at seeing some puzzle pieces scattered around and putting them together to make a complete picture, and he's definitely been seeing some puzzle pieces.

Like Steve Harrington never looking over when Eddie first speaks to him. And the way Steve stares at his mouth, his brows slightly furrowed like he's trying to decode something (Eddie would love for this puzzle piece to belong to a "Steve Harrington wants to kiss Eddie Munson" big picture, but he's not delusional). And how Steve needs to be nudged or needs to see someone before realizing they're close to him. And how he didn't seem to understand Eddie's words until he looked down at a notebook Robin had scribbled in.

And that's not even counting the stuff Eddie Munson noticed about Steve in high school. Steve Harrington walked through the halls like someone was hunting him, his shoulders tense and his eyes always flitting around from person to person, like he was scared of someone sneaking up on him. He always seemed to ignore people when they called out to him, and Eddie had once dismissed it as him being an asshole. Steve never actually paid attention in class, either; he'd spend the whole time doodling in his notebook or zoning out while staring at the wall. He didn't even look up when the teacher called on him, and eventually the teachers stopped trying.

So, yeah, Eddie has slowly started piecing the puzzle together, resulting in a picture that he never would have linked to Steve Harrington, of all people. But it's the logical conclusion. It's the brilliant plot twist that makes so much sense when you review previous campaign sessions.

He just needs to test it, to see if he's actually right or if he needs to review the pieces once more.

Eddie's chance comes after Hellfire Club on Wednesday. Their session had finished a little earlier, if only because the players had gotten through Eddie's planned journey faster than intended. The next part couldn't be stopped five minutes in, so Eddie had called it a day and gone to the bathroom while the others talked about their character progression.

In the few minutes it took for him to piss, Steve had strolled into the school and started waiting in the hallway next to the math room. He's leaning against the wall, head tilted down as he reads a small book, his lips turned down into a slight frown as he concentrates.

This is the scene Eddie sees when he rounds the corner, and before he can really think about it, he scurries back to remain out of view. He's not scared of Steve Harrington. He just knows this is the best chance he's got to test his theory. Eddie glances around the corner, watching as Steve turns the page of his book, and he suddenly wants to know what has captured his attention so strongly.

Eddie takes a deep breath and slides around the corner again, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight. "Hey, Harrington," he says, his volume normal and easy to hear.

Steve doesn't react. He doesn't even twitch or give any indication that he heard Eddie and simply decided to ignore him.

"Haaariiiiingtooonnn," Eddie calls, a little louder and drawing the word out.

Still nothing. Well. Steve frowns a little deeper, turns the page back, and rereads whatever part has tripped him up.

"Steve, you motherfucker," Eddie says, the same volume as before, and this time trying something that might anger him. "Your hair looks ugly," he adds. It's a lie, of course. Steve's hair looks fantastic, and Eddie wants to run his fingers through it.

No reaction, and Eddie is starting to feel brave. He takes a few steps closer, still hugging the wall. "Oh, Stevie," he says, getting a slight grin, "big boy, sweetheart, darling, pretty thing." The endearments easily fall from his lips, hanging in the air with Steve none the wiser.

So. Eddie thinks it's safe to say his theory is correct: Steve Harrington can't hear. And Eddie is suddenly, achingly curious to know more. He wants to see how Steve, with his perfect hair and his stupid little moles and his blinding grin, navigates the world when he can't even hear it. He wants to know how Steve experiences music; he wants to know how many other people know; he wants to know if Steve ever gets frustrated and what he gets frustrated about; he wants to know if Steve's other senses are stronger to balance out his lack of hearing.

He wants to know everything.

Eddie strolls over, standing next to Steve and tapping his shoulder. He feels a little bad when Steve jerks in surprise, sliding back a few steps and looking at Eddie with wide eyes. "Don't do that!" Steve says, his gaze flitting around the hall before he forces himself to calm down and look at Eddie.

"Sorry," Eddie says, hoping his expression tells Steve just how much he means it. "You didn't look up when I called you."

Steve blinks, his lips twitching into an almost wry smile. "I, uh, was really absorbed," he says after a moment, idly holding up his book so Eddie can see "The Bicentennial Man" by Isaac Asimov on the cover.

"Heavy reading," Eddie says, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Steve read science fiction in high school.

Steve shrugs, glancing at the cover with a slight frown. "Dustin and Will were talking about it a few days ago. They seemed to like it. Figured I'd see what the fuss was about," he explains.

"Is it worth the fuss?" Eddie asks.

But Steve doesn't answer because he's still looking at the cover. A few more seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at Eddie. "It's kind of confusing," he admits.

And Eddie can't help himself. He wants the satisfaction of truly knowing he was right, and he wants Steve to know that he knows what's up. So, he asks, "Are you deaf?"

-----

Steve tenses, his shoulders hiking up, and he holds the book closer to his chest like it will somehow shield him. "What....how did you know?" he asks, deciding he doesn't need to try bluffing. Eddie's voice wasn't hesitant. He already knows the answer.

"Just noticed things," Eddie says, shrugging as he steps closer to Steve and grins.

The thing is, Steve hasn't tried hiding his deafness lately. Sure, he would have rather died in high school before letting someone discover he couldn't hear, but now? Now he doesn't really care. He's faced literal monsters; someone just innocently asking if he's deaf shouldn't result in the spike of anxiety that shoots down his spine.

At least, Steve thought he wouldn't care. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo, and years of habit had taken over, putting Steve on the immediate defensive. He clenches his jaw, forces his shoulders to relax, and reminds himself of Dustin's whole "Eddie seems weirdly obsessed with you" comment from the day before.

"Is that a problem or something?" Steve asks, relaxing his shoulder and forcing himself to stay in place.

Eddie pauses, frowning like he hadn't expected Steve to ask him that. "No," he says, the word a little drawn out based on how long his lips linger on the "o" shape. "How long?"

Okay. Steve can handle this. He can already see Eddie's questions following the same path as Robin's and Dustin's when they first learned he was deaf. "I started losing my hearing in elementary school. It was pretty much gone by high school," he explains.

Of all people, Eddie should be the most understanding, right? He probably isn't deaf, but Steve's deafness is something that makes him a freak. Sure, it wasn't super obvious in high school, but it still has to count for something, right? It has to help erase the King Steve persona from Eddie's brain, right?

"That explains a lot," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes like he's trying to filter his memories of Steve through this new lens. "You don't have hearing aids?"

"I, uh, don't usually wear them in public."

"Why not?"

Steve opens his mouth to answer but stops himself. Saying he didn't want people to know in high school would feel shallow, yes, but it would be true. Besides still needing to actually get new ones, he doesn't have much of an excuse for not wearing them now. He frowns slightly, gripping the book in his hand a little tighter. It must make some kind of sound because Eddie's eyes flick down to it before looking back up.

"I didn't want people to know in high school," he finally says, rubbing his thumb over the book's cover in an attempt to expel some of the nervous energy he feels. "If people knew, especially teachers, my grades and stuff would've been blamed on, you know, my deafness. And then my parents would've put me into a special school for others who are deaf or hard of hearing. I didn't really want to get transferred like that, especially in the middle of high school."

"What about now, Stevie? You're not exactly in high school anymore," Eddie says. And did Steve read his lips right? That was his name in the middle, he doesn't doubt that, but...was it changed? There was an extra movement at the end, Eddie's bottom lip pulling back slightly like a long E was thrown in there.

It's not like he can ask, so he shoves the thought away, thinking instead of his crushed and useless hearing aids. His shoulders slump a little at the thought. "My hearing aids are broken, but I don't have enough for new ones yet."

Eddie's eyes narrow again, and he leans a little closer. "Aren't your parents, like, stupidly rich? I mean, I've been to your parties, Harrington, it's not a small house you've got there. Just ask Mommy and Daddy to buy you some new ones," he says.

Steve blinks, trying to grasp the words while also processing just how strongly Eddie's "cigarette smoke-weed-woodsy outdoor" smell overwhelms him. It's not bad (maybe it should be? Steve doesn't think he's ever liked these smells before), but it makes Steve's head feel fuzzy and slow, like he's trying to wade through cotton balls. He blinks again, pushing through the daze to say, "Can you repeat that? You, uh, you spoke too fast."

The smell recedes as Eddie leans back, his lips quirking up into a smile that's more...indulgent than it is mean. "Your parents are rich. Ask them to buy you new ones," Eddie says.

Okay, that's...significantly less words than Eddie said before. Steve frowns slightly, frustration budding in his chest because he wants to know what Eddie said, not what he asked. He feels like he's being left out of a conversation he's actively participating in, and he has to swallow back his immediate, frustration-motivated response.

Eddie doesn't know, he's likely never spoken to a deaf person before. Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt and a little leeway, right? Honestly, Steve is fucking tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and leeway, but what else is he supposed to do? Blow up? It would be nice in the moment, sure, but the aftermath? The inevitable apology and the potential indignation from the other person? That sounds fucking exhausting. He'd rather complain to Robin later.

"I want to buy my own," Steve says, knowing his sudden shift in demeanor has been noticed by the confused furrow of Eddie's brow.

Before he can say more, Eddie reaches forward, grabbing the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt. Based on his surprised expression, it was an impulsive move, but Eddie doesn't let go. He just swallows (Steve should not be staring at Eddie's throat like this) and looks at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, and his face is so expressive that Steve doesn't need to hear his tone to know he genuinely cares and wants to know.

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I asked what you said. You just repeated what you asked. I want to know everything you said. Every word. I feel like...like you're trying to dumb things down for me, like you don't think I can actually, I don't know, understand everything. I'm deaf, not stupid."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly. "Oh," he says, licking his lips nervously before nodding. "Okay, yeah, it was kind of mean, though," he admits.

"That's worse, actually," Steve says, frowning and gripping the book tightly once more. "I'll just feel like you're mocking me, or getting off on making fun of me when I don't know. Just repeat yourself, word for word."

And Eddie does. He seems uncomfortable doing so, but he speaks a little slower and makes sure Steve can understand each word this go-around. At the end, he adds, "Like I said, kind of mean. Sorry."

Steve watches Eddie for a few seconds before grinning. "It's fine, Eddie," he says, suddenly realizing how close Eddie has gotten and how Eddie is still holding onto his sleeve. And then, to make sure Eddie knows it's okay, he puts on what Robin calls his Bitch Voice and adds, "Besides, Mommy and Daddy don't need to know I've broken another pair. I'd like to live to see next year."

Eddie blinks when he hears the Bitch Voice and perks up slightly, a grin tugging at his lips and his hold on Steve's sleeve tightening slightly. The awkward moment seems to have passed, and Eddie confirms that by asking, "So, what do you really like about heavy metal?"

"I can feel it. Literally. Heavy metal has stronger vibrations, so I can experience it more easily. I don't really know how the words are sung, but I can feel the beat," Steve explains.

"Then, what did you think of our set?" Eddie asks.

He looks a little nervous, and something in Steve settles, relaxing into place. "Like I said, it was great. Especially your song at the end. I haven't really felt a song like that before. Does your band have more original stuff?" he asks. Maybe he can convince Eddie to record some of their songs so Steve can listen to them. Or, even better, just play only their songs at their next gig.

"Of course we do," Eddie says, standing a little straighter and grinning a little wider and looking at Steve like he's put the stars in the sky. "I'll play them for you next time, sweetheart."

Steve blinks at the word he definitely understood at the very end. Before he can ask about it, though, Eddie glances behind Steve and quickly lets go of his sleeve. Not two seconds later, Dustin shoves himself between Eddie and Steve, looking up at him with an eager smile and bright eyes and Steve has the worst feeling.

"Steve! Can we have a movie night at your place?" he asks as the rest of the kids filter in, pushing Eddie further and further back.

"Sure, but you have to call your parents and tell them when we get to my place," Steve says, incredibly grateful he can't hear when Eddie winces at the cheer that comes from the kids.

And then the kids are pushing him down the hall, undoubtedly arguing with each other about what movie to watch first and not giving Steve a chance to say goodbye, or ask if Eddie was serious about playing for him, or ask if Eddie had meant to call him sweetheart or if that was just, somehow, a mistake.

-----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

Please follow the tag "good vibrations Steddie" or put on notifications for my blog to see when new parts are posted :D)

@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane

@whenindoubtb72, @different-tale-student, @sharingisntkaren, @current-steddie-brainrot, @willim-billiam-byerson, @nuggies4life

@lostgurl-12, @anomalygal, @synonym-for-strange, @sani-86, @missmagillicuddy, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @harringrieve, @awesomeimportantfan, @fredtheemoplant, @warlordess, @therealscarletpumpernickel, @gsvshsjsbs, @mightbeasleep, @mollymawkwrites

@lil-gremlin-things, @honorarybrit81, @sonny-ray-of-goth, @potent-idiocy, @fandomcartographer, @heartsong18, @lingeringmirth, @ko0kyco0kies, @ccomandercody, @spiderman-stilinski, @l0st-strawberry, @xxsky-shockxx, @stilesstickitinme, @boxsam, @thepansexualsnake, @37-screamingfrogs, @yourmom-isgay, @brainsteddielyrotted, @plasticcrotches, @hannahhook7744

#steddie #steddie fic #good vibrations steddie #steddie fluff #deaf steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington #stranger things #my writing

[neptuneiris]

sparks (epilogue)

Yeah, I saw sparks And I saw sparks

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 9.4k

previous part • series masterlist

sorry for the delay, I had some inconveniences, but here it is finally!

unfortunately everything has an end and the time has come for this other fic of mine that i have really loved writing

i never imagined that you would like it so much, which is the same thing i say with every single thing i write and post, i know haha, but i am really surprised how much you like my ideas and how much you support me, seriously thank you

i hope that in the future we can see more of this aemond and this reader, whom i keep in my heart. i loved this idea and i am very happy that you loved it too

i love you beautiful people, see you very soon in my next fics, thanks for all the support to sparks:)

warnings: angst, language, sexual content, smut

Never before in your life have you felt so uncomfortable being in Aemond's presence.

How did we come to this?

You ask yourself, incredulous and with sadness in your chest, as you can't even look at him.

The awkwardness lingers because you both have seen each other again after almost five long months where you knew nothing about each other, also because everything between you ended badly and it's just too much now to be here together in his car… alone.

At first when Jenna got out of the car once you got to her dorm you thought about staying in the back seats, but you knew it wouldn't make any sense, neither did Aemond say anything to you but you decided not to make this even more uncomfortable.

So you got out of the car, said goodbye to her and with your shaky legs you move to the passenger seat.

You avoid looking at him at all times as you buckle up, but the shoulder-to-shoulder approach seems too much for you and the space in the car feels small even though you've been in here before.

You both watch as Jenna enters her residence building safely and once you see her disappear through the glass doors, an awkward silence envelops you both even with his music playing in the background.

Until finally your dumb brain reacts and uncomfortably you shuffle in the seat, swallow hard as your throat feels dry and you bite your lips for a second.

Aemond tries not to look at you, but does so out of the corner of his eye, as he looks straight ahead with an expectant gaze while keeping one hand on his chin and the other on the steering wheel.

Clearly he's waiting for directions, which you don't understand in the first few seconds, feeling incredibly nervous.

"It's four blocks down, then left," you point out trying not to make your voice sound nervous.

He doesn't say anything, just understands the directions and starts the car again.

You watch the window at all times, avoiding eye contact of any kind with Aemond, who is totally focused on the road and also feels the same way as you, where neither of you knows what to say.

And now you are both here, again with that silence between the two of you and that heavy tension in the air that makes you both feel uncomfortable, since not even the music helps. Neither of you speaks for as long as the drive lasts.

So it's easier for both of you to just keep quiet and wait for this to be over.

You on your side also experience a mixture of intense emotions. You want to talk to him, you really want to try, you even want to offer him your condolences for his father's death, but you can't find the right words to speak and the worry that you will make things worse keeps you silent.

Aemond on the one hand wants to break the ice and find a way to try to talk to you, but the uncertainty and fear of rejection paralyze him.

It's very difficult, he can't, he doesn't feel capable and all he feels is that sharp pain in his chest.

Not to mention the incredible nerves you feel all over your body.

As the ride continues, you watch in the distance as some lightning flashes in the night sky, catching your attention. You briefly glance out of the corner of your eye at Aemond but continue to keep your gaze firmly on the window.

Not until a few minutes later a gentle rain begins to fall, creating a sort of melancholy atmosphere, which you don't know if that makes the whole situation worse.

But there are also more words you want to say, but you just can't.

The raindrops gently tap against the windshield, Aemond turns on the windshield wipers and slows down a bit.

You realize that it's not long before you have to tell him what your building is, but you still feel that lump in your throat that prevents you from speaking, even to tell him something as simple as that.

You recognize that you were the one who broke up with him and that although it hurt you too and you also suffered, you also recognize that you caused him more pain by deciding to end it all that way, taking advantage of his situation.

But you really want to offer him your heartfelt condolences, to let him know that despite everything, you still care about him, but you feel the great tension all over your body.

What right do you have to say something like that to him after what happened?

What right do you have to be empathetic with him in that regard when what you did with him trying to find you to fix things, was that you blocked him from everywhere and just disappeared from his life as if you never existed?

And you can't imagine all that he must have gone through, all that he must have felt and all that he must have endured as well for his promotion in the company.

You know you have no right.

You know the damage you caused and the most acceptable thing would have been for you to have sought him out when it just happened, but you didn't.

You honestly don't know what these months have been like for him and in trying to find the words to be able to talk to him, you don't need to, as he talks.

More than anything Aemond asks you the first thing that comes to his mind after briefly seeing some small buildings with the name of your university below the name of the residence hall, breaking the silence.

"You live in a dorm now?"

He asks you with a certain disinterested and casual tone, which still makes you feel nervous, mostly at the thought of what you will say to him before you speak, still feeling that tension and awkwardness in the air.

"Yeah," you reply softly almost in a trembling tone as you still stare out the window, "Yeah, it wasn't hard to request it in the middle of the semester, you know… because of the scholarship."

You bite your lips, feeling really very nervous indeed even though the ice has been broken, though not really. And Aemond only hums in a nodding sound, not taking his gaze off the road and not saying anything else.

You bite your lips again, wishing he would say something back, anything, so you can talk to him, tell him what you want to tell him, but the words continue to get stuck in your throat and he says nothing more.

The ride continues for a few more long minutes until you see through the window that it is almost time to tell him which building is yours, causing you to despair.

Now or never.

You say to yourself, then begin to gather bravery and fill with courage, finally letting out a long breath and without thinking too much, you look at him again and speak.

"I'm sorry about your father," you say in a soft and compassionate voice, daring to look at him.

A complex mixture of feelings invade Aemond inside, definitely not expecting that.

He hides his astonishment, still fixing his eyes on the road, suddenly feeling a knot in his stomach, as well as feeling a warmth expand throughout his chest at your words.

He doesn't know what to say.

Much less what to do.

What would have happened if you had been with him at the time when his father left this world and he went on to become the head of all Targaryen Inc?

Even though the two of you didn't end well and now he feels that support from you towards him, however small it may be, it still made him feel grateful.

Although… he can't help but feel sad too, as inevitably his mind takes him back to remembering the good times when you and he were together.

Your words spill out all over the inside of the car, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed due to his lack of response, until he finally clears his throat as he shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat, then nods, even though he doesn't return your gaze.

Probably everything would have been a little easier.

That's why he also feels a bit angry to see once again how everything is now between the two of you, where there is no longer an 'us'.

"Thank you," he says back in a soft, emotionless voice, not daring to look at you.

And again another awkward silence sets in.

You want to ask him how he is, what he has done, how is the company, his mother, Hel, even Aegon and Daeron, you want to know what happened to his grandsire and Alys Rivers, but again… you can't speak.

At least you're thankful he didn't ignore you after you ignored him and you feel a weight off your heart, you look out the window again while biting your lower lip, still feeling that awkwardness and that tension all over the air, but strangely feeling a little relieved.

And finally that moment comes, you see your residence in the distance.

With this also coming to an end, with a resigned feeling you point to the building, again feeling on edge just from talking to him.

"It's over there," you point to him and he doesn't say anything to you, just starts to pull up to the curb to park.

You swallow hard and Aemond brings the car to a complete stop, right in front of the doors of your building, then continues to stare ahead, expectantly, waiting for the moment when you will get out of his car and probably never see you again.

With a sadness in your chest, you grab your phone and also your purse to get out, also being aware that after this, you probably won't see him again for a while. Or maybe never again, because of your new job position.

And that disappoints you, makes you feel sad and inevitably, you resist the urge to cry.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," you tell him honestly and sincerely, placing your hand on the handle to open the door and walk out.

He just hums back with a slight nod, not watching you, his hand resting on the steering wheel and the other on his chin, his gaze straight ahead, which hurts you, that he can't even watch you. At least not at this moment.

Because he doesn't want to see you go again.

He doesn't want to have another image of you leaving, leaving him, not knowing when he will see you again or if he will even see you again.

Again you feel that sharp pain in your chest as he apart from not being able to watch you, he can not even speak to you again, just waiting for this to be over and nothing more.

Although… just as you are about to open the door to leave and enter your building, you stop.

And you understand. You understand his lack of interactivity and also his lack of words. But this is just as painful for you as it is for him.

Your shoulders slump from the tension you were feeling, suddenly feeling defeated and like you have nothing left to lose. That's why you stop all your movements and with a thoughtful and disappointed look, with your lips parted you turn to watch him.

And that's when you finally ask him the question that was always invading your mind since you broke up with him, even crying, being more of a statement than a question but now you can finally know his answer.

Aemond frowns slightly as he notices out of the corner of his eye how you stop and don't get out of his car.

He feels your gaze on him and when you don't move any further nor say anything to him, he finally looks directly into your eyes with a confused and expectant expression at the same time.

You know your question is risky, but you need to know.

"Do you hate me?"

You ask him with uncertainty in your voice, your eyes full of sadness.

"Because of how I ended things?"

A heavy silence again fills the interior of the car for a moment with your words hovering, as Aemond feels astonishment again but hides it well, also not expecting to hear those words from you, as an unfamiliar feeling settles in his chest.

He remains completely silent, thinking about your question and also what he will tell you next.

Answer with the truth or be just as cruel to you, as you were to him, even if it's not true?

The simple question in his mind makes him feel absurd and also makes him scold himself, as it doesn't make any sense.

The sound of the light rain still patters softly against the car, the lightning continues to reflect every minute, his music also plays softly in the background in that delicate moment, where you wait for an answer and he feels a whirlwind of emotions, contemplating the question with seriousness.

And finally he breaks the silence between the two of you, deciding to answer your question honestly, still focused on the road and not watching you.

"No."

His voice is clear, but with a slight sadness and his answer makes you feel more that pain in your chest and also that a new knot forms in your throat, feeling more the urge to cry, but inexplicably you feel a relief inside because of his answer.

Despite everything, he doesn't hate you.

You think with wonder and longing, for he should hate you, really. Yet he doesn't. And you don't know if that just makes everything worse.

"I-I thought…" you begin to say, trying to control your trembling voice, "I thought you had moved on and—

And after his confession, Aemond lets out another long breath, not saying or doing anything else, still expectant of what you will do, whether you will finally get off or say something else.

And you nod your head slightly as you bite the inside of your cheek, chasing away your tears.

You stop as you hear him let out an incredulous snort with an amused grin, shaking his head, averting his gaze from the road for a moment, feeling anger sweep through his body.

"Do I look like I've moved on?"

And before you can say anything else, he speaks again.

He asks you as he finally watches you with disbelief and anticipation in his gaze. And you bite your lips, further controlling the urge to cry, as Aemond turns his gaze forward, clenching his jaw in annoyance.

"You did what you thought was right and necessary at the time," he says seriously, "It wasn't what I wanted but I don't blame you because I know I made mistakes too," he acknowledges, "My father's death just made everything worse," he says finally, still with annoyance in his gaze.

And right after his words and silence again settles between the two of you, you know you have nothing more to do here.

The rain continues to fall and with your heart in a fist, you finally decide to get out of his car and take refuge in your room, where you will cry yourself to sleep. So you grab the door handle, making sure one last time that you have all your things with you.

You withdraw your tears and speak without daring to look at him.

"Thanks again for the ride."

You tell him for the last time in your soft, sad, broken voice, controlling your emotions and your sobs.

And just as you open the door and the sound of the rain becomes more audible, before one of your legs touches the ground and you get completely out of the car, this time it is Aemond's voice that stops you.

"And do you hate me?"

His question with a soft tone makes you stop immediately, making you freeze in surprise for a moment, since you did not expect that, and then slowly turn your gaze back to him, where he is already watching you with the same need to know your answer as you were watching him before.

He notices your glassy eyes, he notices your sadness and also how you are controlling your crying, he notices it all. And you also notice the sadness in his eyes, that longing that you can't really explain.

Because you also feel that same longing inside you.

"Do you hate me for not fighting hard enough for you?"

And in that moment, you both know he means everything.

For not fighting Otto Hightower, Alys Rivers and his work hard enough. For allowing everything to escalate, for not fixing it soon enough, for making you reach your breaking point and that's why you decided to break up with him.

And you… had never thought about it, about hating him. But you immediately know the answer, without hesitation.

"No."

And again Aemond feels caught in a whirlpool of emotions.

His gaze reflects slight surprise and also slight relief, but also regret. He honestly didn't expect to hear that answer from you. And his surprise is mixed with his confusion.

Even though his own grandsire interfered in the relationship and also his possible partner Alys Rivers in a completely improper way, where they both pretended you didn't exist and he didn't do enough to protect you and the relationship, he wonders in confusion: why? Why don't you hate him?

"You don't even do with knowing that I could have done more to make it all work?" he asks you softly and uncertainly, "So we could have been together?"

You focus your gaze on the rain-fogged windshield, watching the drops fall and slide down the glass, as you again feel a lump in your throat and process his words.

You bite your lips, again feeling the urge to cry.

Honestly you did had wanted him to have fought harder for you, for both of you. But you know it wasn't his fault. It was just things he couldn't control, things that weren't entirely in his hands.

You know that work is work and he really tried by putting his boundaries firm with Rivers and also by worrying all the time about you, all the time making you his priority.

But sadly it wasn't enough.

You let out a sigh and with your eyes on the rain, still feeling a mix of complex emotions, you speak in your calm and soft voice, mostly honest, but at the same time with a touch of sadness and resignation.

"No, I don't hate you," you clarify again, "It's not fair to blame you for what happened, the situation was complicated and we both made mistakes," you watch him with your teary eyes, "And I know I owe you an apology."

Aemond's gaze contracts into one more of sadness, watching you intently but with that hard look on his features where he tries not to break down, as the rain out there intensifies and you gently close the door again.

"I'm really sorry," you sigh, in a light sob, "I'm really sorry that I took advantage of your trip to give you no time at all. I never meant to hurt you like that," you tell him honestly, "I did what I thought was right. But you didn't deserve that."

Aemond feels a slight ache in his chest, with that feeling of sadness again taking over and his mind goes back to the past, to remembering that horrible day in that horrible moment, when you left him without looking back.

And he thinks of all he could have done and all he could have been.

But despite this, he feels a flash of relief to know that you don't really hate him, but he is also overcome with regret for apologizing to him, when he never felt the need or thought you owed him an apology before.

Just like you, he feels remorse, a longing, and that longing inside him that still lingers and grows bigger.

"I regret… everything," he tells you in a soft, low murmur, drawing your full attention, "I regret not trying harder, not showing you how much you meant to me…" he pauses a little, "Not stopping my grandsire sooner... and I'm really sorry, for everything I put you through."

And he tells you all this with restrained emotion, feeling completely vulnerable and sincere, wanting you to understand the depth of his feelings.

And you do, you really do.

But honestly, you can't take this anymore.

The rain is getting heavier and heavier and what you need is to release all the tears you've been holding back for a while now. And you don't want to cry in front of him, simply because you don't want to look so vulnerable and you want to get it over with, because in the end, he will go back to his own way and you will go back to yours.

And it's better for you to end it once and for all before it gets harder for you.

"You don't have to apologize," you say through your held back tears, "But if that's what you need to say, it's okay, I understand."

You try to keep calm in your voice, but there is a mixture of sadness and understanding in your tone. And even though Aemond feels a weight less on his shoulders, the sadness is persistent and he says nothing more, with silence enveloping them.

And that's when you decide it's time to leave.

"Take care of yourself, okay? And thanks again."

You don't watch him when you say it, you don't dare to watch him, to watch as you again leave him behind, as you quickly wipe the tears that have escaped from your cheeks and again place your hand on the handle to open the door, turning your back on him.

And here it comes, the ultimate goodbye.

Aemond noticing all this, with his sad, desperate, anguished and worried expression, says to himself too: now or never.

And again he stops you with his words.

"I fired my grandsire."

He says to you in a tone just as desperate as his face, almost in a needy tone, again stopping you and making your breath catch for a moment, listening to him carefully.

"As soon as I became head, I fired him," he tells you more plainly, watching you sadly and desperately, "Rhaenyra took his place and I never associated with Rivers," he says and between your parted lips in surprise, "In the end I cut all connection with her and her company. And instead I successfully partnered with Rodrik Greyjoy, who has connections to Dorne and Essos."

You turn your gaze slowly back to him, where he is already watching you, being completely honest with every word he is saying, drawing your attention and making you focus entirely on him, now knowing the answer to the questions you asked yourself in the pub when you saw him.

And… you don't know what to say.

His grandsire and Rivers, they're both just not around anymore.

And probably if Aemond had become the boss sooner, maybe you and he would still be together. And that's what hurts you the most, that Aemond couldn't act sooner until he was the boss.

And how you wish you could have been present at that moment in his life.

Aemond averts his gaze from yours for a moment, where neither of you say anything else nor do anything else, submerging you back into that silence that is eclipsed a bit by his music and also the rain outside.

And Aemond again summons up the courage to ask you what has been going through his mind since the relationship ended, all the while feeling a sadness inside, along with helplessness, frustration and jealousy, thinking the worst.

"Do you…" he pauses for a moment, feeling the bitterness in his tone that he can't help, "Do you have someone new?"

Your eyes immediately meet his, who watches you completely attentive to your answer, wanting, no, needing to know that question that has tormented him every night and day, making him feel jealous and annoyed.

And your gaze shows a mixture of emotions, from mild surprise to sadness and indecision. But not because of the question, but because of him.

How could he think you have someone new when he's been the greatest love of your life so far?

Practically Aemond has ruined every other man for you and you are still completely in love with him. But you understand his question, because of the sudden way you decided to break up with him.

And honestly, you too sometimes wondered the same thing, if he had found someone else or if he finally decided to get involved with Rivers.

"No," you answer him truthfully.

Just you.

You want to say, but the words get stuck in your throat.

And Aemond feels a huge relief course through his body, as he looks away from yours once more and nods his head slowly, running a hand over his chin.

And you can't help but ask him the same question with a certain cautious tone, just to make sure.

"Do you—

"Of course not," he tells you immediately, still with sadness in his gaze.

And that to this day still lingers, just in the same way that you are still in love with him.

It's also absurd for him for you to return the question, since finding someone new was the last thing on his mind.

And even though he moved on with his life and his work more than anything else, his mind and heart were still anchored to you in a way that he couldn't get over.

Aemond unable to contain his emotions any longer, finally tells you the words that have been stuck in his throat for a while now in a trembling voice.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, not even for a moment, since you left."

His gaze meets yours, feeling just as vulnerable as you did before, as your eyes fill with emotion, longing and surprise, beginning to feel your heart beating too hard, unable to control your heart rate.

"I came to keep Floris company because I knew you would come, that's the only reason I decided to show up, because I wanted to see you again and try to talk to you, fix what I couldn't fix before, if you would let me," he tells you honestly, then lets out a bitter laugh to himself, "How could I have anyone else when it's clear I'm still completely crazy about you?" he slowly shakes his head, "I still love you, more than you or anyone else could ever imagine."

And it is there, in his most sincere confession, that he tells you that he still loves you in his slightly trembling voice.

And you for a moment, you are silent, struggling to contain your emotions. However… inevitably tears begin to slide down your cheeks freely, uncontrollably.

Tears of happiness, excitement, surprise, but also of sadness and nostalgia simply because of the situation. And Aemond seeing your state, feels like a dagger piercing his heart, still hating to see you cry and it's worse when he knows you're crying for him.

But before he can say anything to you to stop you from crying, feeling guilty, you with your emotions running high, suddenly feeling a liberating impulse, you let yourself go.

"Oh Aemond," you sigh through your tears.

And without giving him time to anticipate anything, surprisingly in an act necessitated by that impulse so suddenly in your system, you lean fully into him and press your lips to his.

And Aemond without thinking at all, though still in surprise, wastes no time at all and kisses you back in an equally needy way, also leaning completely into you, where one of his large, firm hands takes you around the back of your neck to hold you close, kissing you deep and slow.

You gasp softly into his mouth at the sensation, then move your lips again in rhythm with him, feeling every texture of his lips, those lips you missed so much, bringing your hands around his neck, clinging completely to him.

You both almost devour each other, it being a kiss with a slight mingling of teeth and where it feels so fucking good, his lips moving in coordination with yours, deep.

And you find yourself responding to his kiss now that way, being completely addictive, enjoying his warm and consuming lips, not wanting to stop, feeling your desire increase every second for wanting to feel his closeness, also that little tingle in your between leg.

"Fuck baby," he sighs into your mouth.

Then his tongue makes its way all the way inside your mouth, unable to help it, making you gasp and feel a curious sensation in your lower abdomen as well from your nickname that you haven't heard in a while.

"I love you too," you tell him in between kisses, "So fucking much. Never stop doing so."

Aemond groans in your lips, feeling that warmth from before expanding again in his chest when he hears your words, as well as he feels a fire starting to grow inside him that makes him take you with his other free hand from his hip and forces you to sit in his lap.

His moist, warm mouth welcomes you back, taking in the slight smell of beer and cigarette which doesn't displease you at all, on the contrary, it makes you continue to more fervently caress your lips with his in a deep way in wet sounds.

It's not complicated even though you are both inside his car and the steering wheel is right behind you, being a little uncomfortable, but you don't mind.

So with the same need he has to feel you close, you make yourself comfortable and with your hand around the edge of his jaw, bring his face closer to yours to kiss him again.

This way Aemond can hold both hands on your face, keeping you exactly where he wants you, then gently caress your curves and breathe hard against your face.

"I love you so much," he murmurs against you between kisses, kissing you again, "I can't get enough of you."

You slide one of your hands down his chest, inhaling deeply to return his demanding kisses, as he continues with his hands on your hips, pressing you against him, letting you feel what is happening inside his pants.

You almost let out a whimper as you feel his rigid, hard, hot arousal beneath you, almost below your center, where your juices begin to flow.

"Did you miss me?"

He asks you in a low, husky murmur, completely aroused, then pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, starting a trail, making you gasp loudly and tilt your head to the side to give him more accessibility.

You bite your lower lip as his hands go all the way down and briefly caress your thighs, then squeeze and lightly caress the soft skin of your ass above your skirt, increasing your arousing desire all over your insides.

"Yes baby, all the time," you reply with a little difficulty, panting and breathing hard.

"Miss you too," he says in a hoarse murmur as he kisses your collarbone, your throat and again your neck.

Placing your hand back on one of his cheeks, you kiss him again with need, beginning to move smoothly and deeply back and forth your hips against him, his hardness slamming directly against your center, making you moan.

Aemond lets out a deep growl as he feels the friction of your movements against him, squeezing both of your ass cheeks with more fervor, not wanting you to stop.

Simply everything around you both disappears at that moment, the rain is still coming down hard and you're both too busy to worry if someone will walk by and see you like this.

"I want you, now," he murmurs against your lips, breathing and panting just as hard as you are.

And this catches your attention, causing you to stop kissing him and watch him at the eye that is fully dilated and full of lust and arousal, which you also know your eyes must be like this.

And as much as you want to calm that slight delicious ache of arousal in your nerve center since it's been too long since he was last inside you, at that moment you remember where you are and look around, barely being able to see anything through the rain-fogged glass, but still causing you hesitation.

"But..." you say with your voice and look not entirely convinced, again trying to see something through the glass, "H-here?"

"It's been so long," he tells you, again leaving wet kisses on your neck that make you shiver all over, trying to convince you.

"I know b-but… "you say still undecided, "I don't know—

"Please, baby," he looks into your eyes, "Feel what you're doing to me."

It forces you to again move your hips against it deeply, fully feeling its heavy hardness in need of attention and release, the friction sending delicious waves of arousal that also need attention.

"I want you. Right here. Right now. Don't tell me you don't want me too, I know you do."

You almost let out a little cry of surprise when unexpectedly, he sniffs under your skirt and just above your panties, you feel the huge palm of his hand cover your pussy with ease, caressing you in your entirety.

"A-ah!"

A soft whimper escapes you and you furrow your brows with the clear excitement and pleasure in your gaze, beginning to breathe harder, agitated and shaky.

"You're all soaked, baby."

He says in the midst of his excitation, delighted by the way you're dripping all over him, stroking you with his huge hand all over from front to back, making you moan loudly and start to move your hips against his hand, needing more, the friction being absolutely delicious.

And just as one of his long, slender fingers is about to pull the fabric of your panties aside to touch you directly, with a feeling of regret for the pleasure but also desperate, you stop his hand abruptly, not letting him go any further.

Aemond furrows his eyebrows in confusion amidst all his excitement, staring at you blankly, as you return your nervous, worried, agitated gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"I-I wasn't expecting this," you begin to say, even with your hand completely stopping his movements, nervously, "And it's been a while since I've shaved."

Aemond's confusion only becomes more noticeable even after hearing your words, understanding but at the same time not, as you watch him completely worried and on alert, not having the slightest idea what will happen next.

But Aemond knows what exactly will happen next, still not understanding why you said that and why you look so worried about it when he understands that you already know.

So he shakes his head briefly in your direction, still confused.

"And you think I care about that?"

His words take you completely by surprise and before you can say or do anything, his finger finally pulls the fabric aside and with his index and middle finger directly touches your dripping wet center, stroking you in slight circles making you moan and arch your back with your face contracting in complete pleasure.

Aemond can't help but smile in satisfaction at the way you react and respond, feeling you moisten his fingers more, loving your every expression and how you are like this to him.

And finally he expertly slips his fingers between your folds as if he wants to check how wet you are.

"Aemond," you moan his name, wiggling your hips against his hand again.

"Yes, baby," he praiseswith even satisfaction and desire in his gaze, "God, you are so fucking hot."

"Please," you whine, watching him with need and pleasure, "Please fuck me, fuck me with your fingers."

"Yeah? You want that?"

He watches you with tease, feeling his fingers slide all over your entrance, making you moan and sigh for him, feeling so good but not enough, as you need more.

"Aemond," you say his name in a plea.

And that smirk appears on his lips, deciding he doesn't want to tease you since he's just as desperate as you are, but this little moment is about you.

"Here you go, baby, all for you. I'm gonna take good care of my girl."

You moan prologue as he slips both fingers into your tight, hot, needy entrance, moving them inside you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs.

You arch your back as you moan and your chest is right in front of him, his eye going at that moment to your confined breasts, needing to be released and also needing to receive attention.

He doesn't need to say anything to you, as you are too busy receiving and enjoying the feel of his fingers inside you, so with his free hand he moves it up the back of your top, reaches in and with a calculated and expert movement, undoes the clip of your bra.

This doesn't totally get your attention, what does is how Aemond moves your bra out of the way and down the front of your top, exposes your breasts for him by the side of your cleavage.

"Gods," he murmurs to himself in delight to then bring his hand up, kneading your left breast all over and bringing his lips to your nipple on your right breast.

Now the feel of his lips and one of his hands on your breasts makes you moan louder as you continue to feel him move his fingers inside you just the way you need and exactly how you like.

Just as he knows exactly how you like it when he licks and kisses your nipples with need, grunting in the middle of his licks, watching your face at all times, not wanting to miss every expression on your face.

"Yes, just like that, p-please," you whimper, arching your back more and bringing one of your hands to his hair to push his face more against your breasts.

But you lose it completely when he twists and arches his fingers inside you with purpose, stroking and searching until he finds the spot that draws a gasp from you.

"There we go," he murmurs, watching you, "Fuck, you're so warm, baby, "he groans, "You're going to feel so fucking good around my cock."

His words send more delicious waves of pleasure to your center that he continues to caress and soothe, as he watches his fingers disappear inside you again and again, continuously, to return his attention to your breasts.

Each caress of his fingers, hand and lips make you melt completely on top of him, still panting and feeling dizzy and lightheaded, having no coherent thought because of the sensations.

And yet, it's not enough, you need more, need more of him, desperately.

"So fucking good," you murmur in sighs, your breath coming in ragged gasps, "Please, baby, don't stop."

Aemond groans

"I can feel you squeezing my fingers, baby," he says, stroking your soft spot, "Are you going to cum?"

"Y-yes," you say in a faint murmur, contracting your face into one of pleasure and need, moving your hips faster against his hand, "Oh fuuuck."

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, beginning again to leave wet kisses down your face and neck, "I can't believe you're mine… and how perfect you are," he says over the softness of your breasts, husky, "Fuck."

"Aem-mond," you say in a desperate tone, still swaying your hips and about to reach your high point.

He feels you clench tighter all around your fingers and before you can finally feel your orgasm hit you, he stops his movements and removes his fingers from inside you.

You whimper with confusion and discomfort more than evident on your face, watching him instantly, breathing hard and fast, with the slight sweat on your forehead, about to reproach, but Aemond speaks quickly.

"On my cock," he clarifies to you, taking his hands off you for a moment, bringing them to his belt to remove it and also unbuckle his pants, "I want you to cum all over my cock."

As he begins to remove his belt with a little difficulty, he is totally focused on that, but as he unbuckles his pants and is about to release his hardened member, he turns his eye to your face and sees even the discomfort and frustration on your face from the denied orgasm.

"Oh baby, don't look at me like that," he tells you with the smirk in his gaze, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, "Don't worry, I'll give you exactly what you want. Be a good girl for me and be patient."

This inevitably brings waves of pleasure to your aroused yet aching center for not cumming, so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to find relief.

And finally Aemond releases his big, hard, hot cock from his underwear, watching you all the while with pleasure and completely ravenous.

His long, slender fingers wrap around the base, then stroke himself with deep, long strokes, grunting lowly each time his thumb brushes over his sensitive, red tip.

At the scene of him stroking himself with your lust-filled eyes, you can't help but moisten your lips with the tip of your tongue, needing him inside your mouth or inside you, either is fine with you.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," he says, bringing one of his hands to your thigh, "Let me see that pretty pussy."

Even though it's been a while, you still shamelessly try to spread your legs as wide as you can, letting him see your wet pussy dripping with your juices, glistening slightly and fully engorged, needing him.

"Fuck," he growls, "All this for me?"

He brings his hand to your center again and with his thumb strokes gently but with just enough pressure your sensitive bud, making you moan and arch your back from feeling it more intensely.

Aemond bites his lower lip as he watches your pussy contract from his caresses, then he moves his eye up to your face and at the end he focuses totally on your slightly sweaty body, your perfect breasts with both hard nipples making his cock throb in a painful but delicious way at the same time.

"I want to ride you," you say in the middle of your expression of pleasure, panting.

Aemond smiles and pulls his hand away from your needy pussy before he goes any further and places them both on either side of your body, watching you expectantly.

"Go ahead, baby. I'm all yours."

This only heightens your arousal more and the idea of riding him rough is too delicious and makes you feel yourself getting wetter.

You wrap his heavy cock in your hand, breathing through your mouth, then rise up on his lap and direct his tip to your needy, dripping pussy.

You slowly lower down and feel him open you all the way, making you moan his name too loudly.

"Oh my god, Ae-mond" you whined, closing your eyes in complete delight.

"Oh fuck," Aemond groans, "Fuck, baby."

You both curse as it feels so fucking good.

You slowly descend, moaning throughout, feeling yourself open wider for him, causing Aemond to groan and curse louder as he feels you squeeze him in such an exaggeratedly good way that it almost makes him cum.

Even with more of his long, thick cock left to enter your pussy, he grabs your hips with both burning hands and pushes you down to finish sinking all of him inside you, where you both moan and grunt deliciously.

"That's so fucking good," you praise, completely drunk with pleasure and how he fills you completely.

Only he fills you this way, being exactly what you need. And you've missed it.

He gives you time for your body to adjust to his size after so long, while this time with both hands he caresses your breasts, giving attention with his tongue to your hard buds, making you moan as it feels too much, though not enough.

"You like it that much, hm?"

He teases you and then runs his tongue right across your right bud, lightly grazing it with his teeth, making you gasp as his hands continue to caress the softness of your breasts with sharp movements that take in all your skin.

And once you feel comfortable again with his size inside you, you begin to move your hips against him.

"Oh yeah, baby," he grunts, "Just like that."

You continue to move back and forth, moaning his name, feeling his warm breath against your breasts, beginning to feel your skin bristle from all the sensation that is too much but not enough at the same time.

"Yes, baby," you say in a whimper, "Please, you feel so good."

You begin to move more purposefully up and down now, causing him to growl again and let out a curse in your ear, holding you tighter around your waist by how you bounce against him.

The rain out there probably helps make your moans not so audible, but you no longer care where you are and if anyone might notice you both, especially since the car is moving with your movements on top of him, but you don't care.

You can only focus on one thing and that is Aemond, your perfect boyfriend.

You only feel more waves of pleasure that his cock soothes as you see his beautiful smooth but slightly contracted face in intense pleasure, with a few strands of his now short hair sticking to his forehead from his light sweat, looking so sexy.

Each drag of his cock head sends electricity throughout your body and a feeling of euphoria, almost making you see stars and fireworks, moving more fervently against him.

His breathing is just as fast as yours, hearing on top of that the slapping of your ass against his thighs every time you thrust him deep inside you again.

"That's it," he hums, then tightens the grip of his hands on your hips and begins to move faster and harder on top of him.

You moan loudly, feeling too much, delicious and driving you completely crazy.

"Fuck," you whined at the way he guides you, closing your eyes in complete delight.

And the next thing he does as he feels your walls contract around him, he wraps his arms around you and holds you with his warm hands from your lower back, grunts and begins to meet your movements as he too thrusts his hips upward in hard, fast, hard thrusts.

The air is completely gone from your lungs once more and you moan louder, the sound of both your skins sticking together also being heard, making your eyes roll back.

"Yes, yes, baby," you say as best you can, drunk with pleasure, frowning as you feel yourself cumming soon.

"Holy fuck, baby," he croons, "Keep goin', baby. Squeeze my cock. I wanna feel you cum first," he groans, his voice almost desperate.

He continues to whisper obscene things in your ear, that you are his, how much he loves you, how beautiful you look all desperate with his cock inside you, what he wants to do to you next, how long he has waited to be inside you again and how much he loves to hear your beautiful sounds that are only for him.

You can't help but react to his dirty words and your pussy squeezes him harder, making him grunt and curse with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his cheeks pink from the heat and his lips half-open, breathing hard.

"Fuck-fuck," you say quickly, clinging tighter to him in a desperate way.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?" he purrs and you let out a moan, trying to speak, "Yes, baby. Cum for me, please."

He leans in and kisses you with need, as he continues to grind his hips against yours and you moan into his mouth as he brings his thumb back to your bud and strokes it with just enough pressure to make you moan and feel more of your pleasure on the verge of exploding.

And with three more sweeps of his thumb on your clit, you get goose bumps and collapse on top of him.

You moan his name and every muscle in your body tenses at once, you tingle and your mind goes blank as you let out a high pitched moan louder than the previous ones and you see stars behind your eyes as a wave passes all over your insides.

You feel the euphoria all over your head and you jerk for a moment, almost aching from it all, feeling too much as Aemond continues to fuck you through your orgasm, reaching his own peak.

"Oh, fuck," you hear him moan and with one last hard, hard lunge, a hot liquid spurt of his cum fills you inside you.

The pleasure burns all over you, it courses through your body and you gasp, breathing hard and barely processing everything that has just happened.

Together you wait for the high to subside as you drop your head heavily against his shoulder and he continues to hold you, waiting for his racing heartbeat to calm down.

He begins to leave soft kisses on your forehead and brushes away your damp locks stuck to your sweaty face gently, smiling completely happy and satisfied, while you continue to melt under his touch and watch for a moment as the rain continues out there.

"Are you okay, baby?"

He asks you while still trying to catch his breath and you hums in affirmation, slowly sitting back up to look him in the eye.

"More than okay," you assure him with that satisfaction in your body.

You smile at him with love in your gaze and lean in to kiss him, where once again you think of how much you missed him and how happy it makes you to be with him again in this way, being all you needed.

"Stay with me in my room," you tell him as you pull away from him, not taking your hands away from his face.

"I wasn't planning on not staying, love."

He smiles back at you and he leaves one more kiss on your lips again, pulling your whole naked body against him again, holding you tight, as if he doesn't want to let you go.

His cock softens inside you and you carefully pull away from on top of him, feeling like there's a mess on your crotch and thighs, but nothing you can't fix since your room is a few feet away.

Once you both finish cleaning up what you can inside his car, where barely Aemond cares about it, you and he run under the rain to hurry into your building, where you take him to your room.

Tonight is not the last time Aemond makes you come, as once you are both in the four walls of your room, he makes you come with his fingers, tongue and cock, proclaiming it is to make up for the time you were both apart.

The next morning, in your bed, you can't help the silly smile that appears on your lips when you see the serene and calm face of Aemond, who is sleeping peacefully next to you.

You immediately place your head on his chest and hug him, wanting to feel that closeness and touch from him, completely happy but also tired from everything you both did last night.

You feel that satisfied tingle between your legs and now being like this with him, just time seems to stand still for you, wanting to be like this forever.

Aemond stirs a little under you and you feel and hear him inhale deeply, then feel his warm hands wrap around your bare back, pulling your body closer to him, making you smile softly.

"Hmm," he says hoarsely, sending a vibration you feel in his chest, "Good morning," he says still sleepily.

You laugh softly under your breath, lifting your face to watch him.

"It's the afternoon, actually," you tell him amused then leave a soft kiss on his lips.

He hums, still keeping his eye closed, while instead of seeing his blue sapphire in his left empty socket, he has on his prosthetic eye, which you hadn't seen in some time, but still had missed.

"Really?" he asks you still sleepily.

"It's twelve o'clock," you let him know, then look at him somewhat warily, "Don't you have to work or something?"

"Hmm…" he says for a moment, hugging you against his chest more firmly, "Yeah but it doesn't matter, I want to take the day off."

You can't help the small tight-mouthed smile that appears on your lips and you pull your face closer to his, closing your eyes and melting under his touch and the comfort of your bed, while out there the weather is cloudy from the storm at night.

"You know my work now won't interfere between us, right?" he suddenly asks you softly, getting your attention, "I'm not going to make the same mistakes as last time. I'm going to do this right."

Again you can't help but smile a little, as you remain silent for a moment and gently nuzzle your nose with his.

"Now I know," you murmur softly to him, in response.

Aemond smiles softly, marking his dimples on either side of his cheeks, as the two of you make no effort to get out of bed and entwine your legs together, intending to stay here for a while longer.

And in that moment, it's just you and him, both in the right place at the right time.

That day in your room, you both talked about everything, about what would come next and how you would face it together, how you would do things now and also caught up for the months apart.

There were all kinds of laughs and heartfelt conversations. Instead of focusing on the mistakes of the past, you chose to look forward and build that new future together.

A few weeks after you and Aemond got back together, the topic of you both living together comes up again, but this time, he gives you the news that he stopped living in the apartment where you both lived together and recently bought an apartment for himself in the upper suburbs.

And it's only a matter of time before you both now create new moments in a new place.

Even the press gives the news after they see you both in a luxurious restaurant enjoying a rich dinner, where there is no lack of physical contact and some innocent kisses, where you both look absolutely happy.

Aemond's family, Hel more than anything else, are happy that the two of you are back together, where you never crossed paths with Otto Hightower.

And it is also only a matter of time before all the other close people around know that you and Aemond are back together again.

But Aemond couldn't care less, since he has you back, his sweet girl and that's all he cares about.

His company continued to be successful, even increased with now him being the boss and your classes and work remained the same, only with the difference that you now have that stability you had so longed for back.

And fortunately it came back into your life, as well as Aemond's new life, having you back.

You both supported each other in your goals and dreams, finding strength and inspiration in this new chapter of your lives.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing @iloveallmyboys @twobluejeans @siriusdumblittlepuppy @celesteblack08 @birkinwhore @nikkitc0703

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond

[mechaknight-98]

Festival Prep (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki

Authors note: An Epilogue to festivities and technically a prologue to another piece that hasn’t been named yet. Enjoy needy Breedy Kura

Part I

The next day, the two woke up to a loud yell, signaling the return of the other Fimmies.

"Yunjin, chill out. You know Sakura is still asleep," Porter, Yunjin’s boyfriend, said as Yunjin rushed through the dorm.

"But I've missed my favorite Unnie’s birthday, and I need to make sure she's okay. Good Morning Kkura unnie ah, holy shit…" Yunjin’s outburst was cut short when she saw the young man lying shirtless next to Sakura. He raised himself to face the voices he heard, with Daigo's still-closed eyes turning towards them before gently patting Sakura awake.

As Sakura woke up, she realized they had slept through their planned breakfast and second date as a couple. She noticed the shocked expressions of Yunjin, Porter, Chaewon, Aaron, and Kazuha standing at the door.

Confused, Sakura asked, "What is it?" Everyone pointed to Daigo, whose eyes were still closed as he adjusted to being awake. Sakura turned to see Daigo and her face flushed red.

“Mrs. Miyawaki,” Porter teased.

"I can explain," Sakura said. Daigo, now fully awake, looked amused as Sakura tried to explain their late date and why he stayed over.

"Right," Yunjin said sarcastically before turning to Daigo. "So, what's your name, tough guy?"

"Oh, my name is Daihirou Godbolt, but everyone calls me Daigo," he replied.

"Your first name is Daihirou?" Sakura was surprised, having always thought Daigo was his first name. Daigo explained that it was a family tradition.

“Daigo… I like it,” Chaewon said cutely, causing Sakura to feel a strange pang of jealousy.

"Daigo, wait, are you the Warlock main who played Destiny 2 with Kura?" Kazuha asked, vaguely recognizing the game.

Daigo nodded, and everyone seemed to recognize him.

“Well, I never expected you to be so…” Yunjin hesitated before settling on "tall," causing Sakura to feel a protective rage over Daigo, despite his towering presence. Daigo remained oblivious to the tension.

“So, besides playing games with Kura Noona, what do you do for work?” Porter asked.

“Oh, that's classified. I'm not being hyperbolic; it's classified, got a clearance and everything,” Daigo explained, prompting chuckles.

“Okay, well then we'll leave you two alone now,” Chaewon asserted, ushering everyone out. Finally, Sakura's tension eased as she turned to her boyfriend.

"Ya, why did you let Chaewon look at you like that?" Kura asked annoyed. Daigo squinted, confused, but before Sakura could react, Chaewon walked in, reminding them of their plans to meet up with their friends to celebrate Sakura’s birthday. Sakura nodded and shooed Daigo away.

As he got ready to leave, Sakura walked by and playfully slapped his butt, smiling as she enjoyed the jiggle. "I'll see you later, stud," she said, and Daigo rolled his eyes but kissed her on the cheek before departing. Sakura smiled as he left, but her smile faded when Eunchae entered the dorm.

“Are you Kura’s boyfriend?” Eunchae asked teasingly. Not feeling threatened, Daigo replied, “Yes, I am,” which excited Eunchae, who eagerly prompted him to tell her everything.

“Well, first things first, my name is Daigo,” he said, and Eunchae recognized the name, squealing with excitement.

“You played Destiny with Kura,” she exclaimed, pointing at his Sunshot tattoo. Daigo, defeated, admitted, “Destiny 2,” as Eunchae teased them about their shared interest.

“So, what else is interesting about you, Mr. Daigo?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Daigo hesitated but decided to share that he was a paranormal investigator for Fortune 500 companies. Eunchae looked confused, causing Daigo to laugh.

“I hunt monsters,” he clarified, though Eunchae still seemed bewildered. Daigo found it easier to open up to Eunchae, seeing her as an annoying little sister, and shared some truths about himself.

As Daigo engaged with Eunchae, Kura observed him and found his mannerisms endearing, despite knowing he was a bit unusual. She particularly loved his awkward high-five as she watched them interact. After Eunchae left, she bumped into Sakura.

“Oh, Unnie, I met your boyfriend. He's weird but funny. You should have him around more,” Eunchae teased, eliciting an eye roll from Sakura.

“No,” she said firmly before walking back out to Daigo who be as prepping to leave. Sakura felt the urge to pounce on him and fuck his brains out in their living room right then but resisted. Sakura didn't know what was going on with her but for her and Daigo there was this unrelenting need to fuck the other into a stupor, but that would have to wait.

"Hey, Daigo, can you walk with me to the restaurant?" Sakura asked shyly. Daigo smiled and replied, "Sure thing, Kura, technically it's still your birthday. At least according to Freedom Time."

As the couple walked to the restaurant, Sakura expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thanks for coming, Daigo."

"Well, I missed a quarter-century, so I had to make it up to my Megastar idol friend," Daigo replied, a hint of remorse coloring his usually dry wit.

Curious, Sakura asked, "Hey, how did you get my address?"

"Oh, I have my ways," Daigo answered cryptically.

"That's kinda creepy," Sakura remarked.

Daigo stopped and turned to face her. "Kura, we've sent letters, games, money, addresses, and God knows what else to each other over the years. At this point, if we gave each other any more information about the other, we would have to be legally classified as married."

Sakura laughed as memories flooded back. "Oh yeah, that's right," she chuckled. "If we were to get married though, you're taking my last name," she teased.

Daigo knew Sakura was joking but a fire lit inside him to put his breeding bitch in her place

“No, I am not. We are either doing both of our names hyphenated or you're taking mine. I don't want my breeding bitch having ties to another man even if it's her father or grandfather. I want her to be mine and mine alone” Daigo said confidently and with authority but also a cheeky smile to let Kura know he was joking (somewhat). He wasn't loud about it either. He spoke just enough so that Sakura could hear him and his tone. The change in his tone was instantly felt by Sakura though who felt a burning heat in her core. It was so intense she almost pounced on him right then and there. She had to take a short break then said to Daigo

“Babe you can't be saying things like.” Sakura’s tone and body language were needy.

“Why does my breeding bitch not get enough last night?” Daigo's voice echoed his tone from the previous night as he teased driving Kura’s neediness to new heights. She glared at him and then continued walking despite desperately wanting him to take her then and there.

Daigo teases Kura with, “Don’t worry I fill you up after this lunch of yours.” Daigo said calmly. Kura turned to her stud and rubbed her thighs together

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kura said in response her body screaming at her to take this man down an alley and do terrifying things to his body, but in classic Daigo nonchalance he laughed it off. After that, the couple arrive at the restaurant. They were in the first group to arrive along with Yujin Wonyoung and Eunbi. The three strangers stared at Daigo suspiciously. Daigo oblivious to their attention waves kura off and walks away.

“Hey, Unnie who was that?” Yujin asked intrigued about him,

“Oh, that was Daigo, my gaming buddy and boyfriend. Sakura said with a smile. The girls look at her with surprised looks. Eunbi laughed and said

“Well, you picked a cute one Kura. Would you mind sharing him?” Eunbi praised and joked. Sakura didn’t appreciate the way Eunbi looked at her stud.

“Well Unnie I do have excellent taste and I will not be sharing because he is mine,” the biting undertone of Sakura’s voice was surprising to all present. She resented how possessive she felt over him but any thought directed to him and her separating ways drove her ballistic. Eunbi Yujin and Wonyoung also noticed this and made notes not to joke about stealing her boyfriend.

Kura arrived at the hotel seething. She hated the way her body made her feel when the girls saw Daigo. Couldn’t her sisters she that he was hers? They looked at her stud like a piece of meat. It made her so angry she just wanted to fuck Daigo in front of them and show them he was her stud alone. Thinking about fucking him made her wet and hot so she began to take off her outer layers as she neared Daigo’s Door. When he opened the door she threw her top at him.

“Strip now.” was her simple command. She closed the door and locked it behind her. She quickly disrobed as Daigo wasn't Far behind. Daigo saw fury and lust in Sakura’s eyes, and despite his understanding of her neediness he checked in with her emotionally first

“Kura are you okay,” Daigo asks. Kura breathes in deep before pinning him to the bed and tearing off his clothes.

“Your breeding bitch needs her stud,” she says raspily as she lines her entrance with his rod. As Kura sinks further into Daigo’s cock. Daigo groans as Kura rides him. Her breasts sway mesmerizingly in the amber light of the golden hour

“Don’t those sluts get it? This dick: mine. This ass: mine. This fucking heart: mine” kura says taking a break as she grips the various pieces of Daigo she was referring to. She rides Daigo slowly hoping to draw his biggest load yet out of him. Despite being on the pill she held this almost insatiable desire to be bred. Her walls tightened around Daigo as she thought about him filling her up causing him to moan loudly, “That’s it, stud moan for your breeding bitch tell me how good it feels and how my pussy is so much better than those other sluts.” Sakura cooed

“Fuck Kura this tight pussy is gonna make me cum.” Daigo warned.

“Do it. Fill me. Fill me so much that my womb can’t help but swell with your children. Fuck a baby no twins into my cunt.” Sakura demanded, and a familiar switch flipped in Daigo’s mind as he lifted Kura and began slow, methodical yet powerful thrusts to match her riding.

“You’re so hot you know that. When I walked with you today I had to hold back my urges just to fuck you in front of everyone to show them who you belong to. Men and women want you but you’re mine you know that.” Daigo stated and Sakura moaned

“Oh God yes.” She said as her stud reassured her. Daigo went in for another kiss as his mind only became focused on Kura and ducking here senseless his skin had gone numb except for the pleasure their union gave. Sakura picks up her pace as Does Daigo as they near their mutual release.

“Please, please, fill me up. I need your cum. I need it. Make me pregnant so everyone knows I’m yours. Please Stud. Breed Our bitch. Sakura pleaded giving into the screaming demands of her needy body

“My goodness such a needy bitch. Is your need for my cum more than your career love.”

“Please give me a litter of pups. Make your breeding bitch a mommy.” Sakura moans as she hits her peak. This combination sends Daigo over the edge as he unloads a hot load into her womb. Both are too far gone to worry about the consequences already caught in the riptide of a breeding frenzy taking over their bodies as they quickly fuck and fuck and fuck until they fall asleep. The next day Kura wakes up to several texts and calls. She looks to Daigo who looks worn out, and kisses his cheek. He stirs awake barely.

“Morning stud. I have to go but thank you for satisfying me with my birthday.” Daigo nods

“Anytime Kura.”

Kura smiles, “see you at Coachella then?”

Daigo nods

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim sakura #miyawaki sakura smut #izone smut #izone sakura

[pucksandpower]

is there a possibility of a part two on the mv1 vegas wedding, perhaps how they might have church wedding ? 🥹🥹 it was just so sickly sweet, i cant get enough of it 🤧🫶

There is definitely a possibility of a part two (though this is a little shorter than my usual work so we can also just call it a second epilogue)

Read part one here: What Happens in Vegas

You stand in front of the floor length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing white dress. Today you’re finally getting the real wedding you missed out on during that wild night in Vegas.

A pair of tiny hands suddenly grab at the tulle skirts of your dress. You look down to see your flower girl and daughter, two-year-old Vega, grinning up at you.

“Mama pwetty!” She declares. You scoop her up and kiss her cherub cheek.

“Why thank you, my love! But not as pretty as you in your special dress.”

Vega giggles and squirms to be put down so she can toddle around in her poufy flower girl outfit. You take a deep breath, heart swelling with love for your family.

A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. “Knock knock! Ready to go become Mrs. Verstappen again?”

You take Vega’s hand and turn to your dad with a radiant smile. “Absolutely. How do I look?”

Your father presses a hand to his heart. “Oh honey ... you look absolutely beautiful. Max is going to bawl his eyes out.”

You laugh, feeling a few happy tears prick your own eyes. “Let’s just hope that Daniel doesn’t mess up his lines too badly. Did you see the Elvis costume he was begging to wear?”

Your father chuckles. “Don’t worry, I talked him into a normal tux. He promised to be on his most professional behavior as officiant today.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you joke. “Really though, thank you for standing by me through all the craziness these past few years. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this for real.”

He pulls you into a careful hug so as not to wrinkle your dress. “I’m just so happy for you and Max. Now come on, let’s get you married again!”

The ceremony is being held outside at a gorgeous vineyard, rows of vines dripping with grapes serving as the perfect backdrop. Your heartbeat quickens as the music swells and Vega heads down the aisle, haphazardly tossing rose petals from her little basket.

Then it’s your turn.

On your father’s arm, you glide towards the floral archway where a nervous but beaming Max waits. The love shining from his eyes when he sees you takes your breath away all over again.

Daniel stands at his side looking polished in his suit, though his hair maintains its signature wild curls. He winks at you as you take your place across from Max beneath the arch.

“Family and friends,” Daniel begins, “we are gathered here today to witness the renewal of vows between Y/N and Max. Their first wedding may have been, shall we say, unconventional—”

“You mean drunk and hasty!” Someone calls out. Laughter ripples through the guests.

Daniel grins. “Yes, thank you Lando. But today we celebrate Y/N and Max formalizing their union after three wonderful years of marriage.”

He turns to Max. “Do you, Max, reaffirm your vow to love and cherish Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife, in plenty and want, in joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?”

Max gazes into your eyes. “I do, absolutely.”

Daniel repeats the question to you. You blink back joyful tears. “I do, with all my heart.”

“Wonderful!” Daniel says. “Now, the couple has prepared their own vows to share today.”

He gestures to Max, who clears his throat and takes both your hands in his.

“Y/N, that crazy night in Vegas, I never could have imagined where it would lead us. The past two years as your husband have been the best of my life. Every day with you and our daughter is a gift.”

Max’s voice cracks with emotion. “You are my rock, my inspiration, my very best friend. Thank you for taking a chance on me then and choosing to recommit to our partnership today.”

He dabs at his eyes as Daniel prompts you for your vows. You have to take a steadying breath around the balloon of love swelling in your chest.

“Max, what can I say? You’ve turned this reckless whim into the love story of a lifetime. Being your wife and mother of your child are the greatest honors I could imagine.”

You squeeze his hands, voice thick with feeling. “You challenge me, support me, and make me laugh and love more than I ever thought possible every single day. I vow to keep racing into the future with you by my side.”

There’s not a dry eye left as Daniel concludes the ceremony. “By the power vested in me by BecomeAnOfficiantIn20Minutes dot com, I now pronounce you man and wife … again!”

Max sweeps you into a deep kiss as your loved ones erupt into cheers. Vega toddles up to tug on your dress, wanting in on the family hug. You scoop her up and press kisses all over her face as Max wraps his arms around you both.

It’s a perfect moment.

The reception is a joyful and hilarious blur. At one point Max pulls you aside, nodding to where Vega is passed out in her godfather Christian’s arms after tiring herself out dancing.

“Can you believe we made that perfect little girl together?” Max murmurs.

You shake your head wonderingly. “She’s the best surprise to come out of that crazy night.”

Max kisses your temple. “I would marry you a hundred more times if it means I got to relive this journey with you over and over.”

You lean into him contentedly. However unorthodox the start of your relationship was, you’ve built an incredible life together.

And it’s only just beginning.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #red bull racing #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 2 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (1)

ITACHI x ALPHA!READER

Summary: Porn logic, you quickly discover, is great for your soul and general self-esteem, but rather intensive on your poor heart. Your first day in an erotic pocket dimension and the horny shenanigans are only beginning. Also magic? That shit was the coolest thing you'd ever seen. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Sexual tension and adult situations, although no explicit sex. GN alpha, but all alphas have penises fyi.

A/N: I decided to split these chapters in two because they were getting very long haha! Not much porn in this one, as it's slightly more slow burn compared to Books 2 and 3. There will be a lot of porn in the second half, but this one just needed that build up imo. It's still too early to say Happy Holidays, but seeing that @omeganronpa is sick right now, I will say 'Get Well Soon!' instead :D I tried to get this finished in time to meet the request for softboi hours lol. I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

Waking up when you hadn’t been asleep was somehow worse than normal waking up, and considering how much you hated to do that, it was almost impressive.

Your head was fuzzy with disorientation, and your eyes felt glued together with enough grit to pave a driveway. All in all, you felt pretty rough. It took you a few seconds to remember where you were and what was happening, but once you managed to pry open your eyes, met immediately with an unfamiliar ceiling, everything clicked into place. You were inside your first pocket dimension.

The spike of excitement that shot through you was so strong that the grogginess dissipated almost immediately, and any thoughts about snuggling back to sleep fled with it. With some difficulty, you wrestled an arm from the heavy weight of blankets on top of you and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Free of grit, you were finally able to examine your surroundings.

Your first thought was that you’d somehow fallen into the ‘Autumn vibes’ Pinterest board that you’d made in the middle of the night that one time when your desire to flee into the woods had been at an all time high. You were bundled up on a sofa in a living room dominated by a gorgeous stone fireplace that held a pleasantly crackling fire, various fire related tools and a small amount of wood storage.

There were floor-to-ceiling shelves everywhere, filled to bursting with artwork, old books, trinkets and pots of unidentifiable but colourful liquids and powders. Dried flowers and large, green house plants dotted every corner of the room, surrounded by candles of every shape and colour you could imagine, all of them resting on a collection of layered, patterned rugs.

Along with the sofa you were laying on, the seating consisted of a cosy armchair in a deep burgundy colour, and a little window seat filled to the brim with a mismatch of cushions and blankets.

The entire room was bathed in a warm, orange glow. It was utterly enchanting.

Distantly, over the crackle of the fire, you could hear someone humming from behind one of the doors. The voice was deep, but not excessively so, and accompanied by the occasional clanging of pots and pans.

That door must lead to the kitchen, you thought.

This little cottage felt so incredibly real and lived in. You had wondered if there would be some kind of giveaway that this was a story premise based in a fake, manufactured world, but so far you had found nothing. It was so much better than you could have dreamed.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t have questions though. Dazzled though you may have been, you needed to know a little more before you came face to face with the first omega. James had said you could communicate with her mentally, so first things first, you needed to figure out how to do that.

‘James?’ You tried using your internal monologue to speak, just with a greater emphasis and purpose than normal. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘Human alpha,’ James acknowledged, her voice sounding just as loud as your own in your head. You flinched a little at the strange sensation of a foreign presence invading your mind. Despite it being vaguely weird that someone could hear your purposeful thoughts, you were grateful to have a guide in an unfamiliar world.

‘I was wondering a bit about free will,’ you said, pausing as you tried to figure out how to phrase the question. James spoke before you could continue.

‘I’m not allowed to give humans any information about free will, religion, the afterlife, aliens, alternate realties, time travel, dead people, living people, or the secret behind the correlation between motherhood and the ability to find objects that accidentally fall into micro pocket dimensions.’

‘No, I meant like in these stories.’ You stopped, processing what James had just said. ‘Wait, motherhood and micro pocket dimensions? Is that why my friend’s mum was able to find the remote in four seconds after we searched for it for three hours that one time?’

‘What part of ‘I’m not allowed to discuss such topics with humans’ did you not understand, human alpha?’

You mentally shook your head, returning to your original point, ‘I was wondering how much free will the people in these books have. Do they have to follow a story, or a script? Will they fall in love me with no matter what I do or say?’

‘These stories are premises,’ James explained. You could so vividly imagine her face as she spoke. ‘They set the world, the rules of the universe, the people and their backstories, their motivations and inclinations, but they don’t provide a script. These characters are just as real as the people from your world by most interdimensional regulations and definitions. They have inclinations towards certain behaviours, but that is no different from your world, yes? People are defined by their experiences and behave in ways that fit their psychological profile and motivations, that does not mean they have no agency.’

You let out a relieved sigh, ‘That’s good. I was worried that they’d be forced to do things with me by the narrative.’

‘Rest assured, human, even in an erotica, if a person chooses to copulate with you, they will have done so of their own volition.’ You snorted at her phrasing, but her words were greatly comforting.

‘Wait, does that mean they can reject me all together?’ you asked, a sudden realisation popping up.

‘Technically yes. It is fairly rare… Although it does tend to happen more frequently with humans who choose erotica stories for some reason.’

Many, many people popped to mind as she said that, from incel forums to the creepy people you’d been unlucky enough to encounter in real life. You were certain that, given the opportunity, most of them would jump at a chance to live as the protagonist of an erotica novel. You were also certain that they’d immediately feel entitled to nonstop sex and a whole manner of other creepy things. It was honestly quite amusing to imagine them getting rejected by the ‘fictional’ love interests they so desperately clung to, and you wished for a moment that you could have had James’ role of fly on the wall to those rejections.

Personally, you weren’t worried about coming across as super creepy and you certainly weren’t going to be forcing anyone into anything. You were confident that, with two attempts, both literally designed to push you and a love interest together, you’d find some kind of fulfilling relationship.

The humming from the kitchen got louder all of a sudden and you wondered if you’d find that relationship with this mysterious omega.

‘Now, human, I will run through the general premise of this world to aid you in your first interaction.’ Even as a disembodied voice, it somehow felt appropriate when James cleared her throat. ‘You are in the world of ‘Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My!’. You have taken the role of MC, a mysterious alpha that was rescued by the book’s love interest, Itachi, unconscious and in the middle of a snowstorm.’

‘Wait, what was he doing out in a snowstorm?’

‘Please try to remain focused, human alpha. MC, struggling with recalling any memory of who they are or how they got there, relies on Itachi to brew a potion to retrieve their memories. Shenanigans ensue, although the exact type of shenanigans will depend on how you conduct yourself. You have a great amount of power to affect the story, especially considering the MC is an amnesiac. As long as you account for how they ended up in the woods, the backstory is fully yours to fashion. But I advise you to heed my warning.’

You remembered it loud and clear. When picking a backstory, you were going to keep one acronym in mind: MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness). That should serve your needs well. Regardless, you were glad you had time to think about the details while you were playing the amnesiac role.

The weird feeling of presence in your mind faded as James fell silent. You took a deep breath. You could do this. You were going to have fun with a pretty omega, treat him with respect, see real magic (and real porn logic), and all of that would be contained in your dream witchy cottage. As long as you avoided complete disaster, this should be one of the greatest things you’ve ever done.

It was only when the sound of the kitchen door unlatching reached your ears that you realised the humming had stopped.

Your head snapped to the side and your eyes landed on the most beautiful omega you’d ever met. This must be Itachi.

Itachi had long, dark hair that was drawn back into a low ponytail, although he’d left a decent amount loose and framing his pale, heart-shaped face. His features were sharp, especially his eyes, and although he moved gracefully, he also seemed to command attention with a presence that felt both strangely out of place and intimately natural for him.

He wore a cosy collection of warm-coloured, loose clothing, including simple brown trousers and a woollen jumper, finished with a pair of simple, black house slippers. The jumper was sliding slightly off of one shoulder, revealing an extra sliver of bare skin that was strangely hypnotic.

“You’re awake! I was just debating about grabbing some smelling salts,” he said, his intense brown eyes focused directly on you. His voice was as pretty as the rest of him.

Quite frankly, he was stunning from head to toe. You weren’t even slightly surprised that he was the romantic interest.

The man (the witch, you reminded yourself, a little incredulously) approached you until he was perched on the edge of the sofa at your waist. Without hesitation, he reached out a hand towards your head and rested the back of his palm on your forehead. He felt neither hot nor cold, and a moment later he withdrew his hand, staring down at you stoically.

“How are you feeling? Any nausea? Black spots in your vision? Can you move all of your fingers?”

“No, no, and” -you wiggled your fingers under the blanket- “yes. I’m feeling fine, just a little groggy from waking up.”

“That’s to be expected. You’ve been asleep for at least twenty-five hours. I found you unconscious at the base of a tree in the middle of a storm last night. It was so cold; I was worried you—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “That doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.”

“And I appreciate that,” you said, sending him what you hoped was a charming smile. “I prefer having all my fingers attached generally.”

“As most people do,” he replied, solemnly, not seeming to pick up on the joke. You almost made a woosh noise, until you remembered that for him, that had likely been a very genuine concern after finding you, so you let the joke die.

“Why were you—” the word caught in your throat, and you suddenly began to cough, only now realising how hoarse your throat was. Right, you’d been asleep for over a day.

“Oh, you must be thirsty,” Itachi said, frowning. You were overcome with a desire to make him smile. “One moment.”

You were expecting him to get up and fetch a glass from the kitchen, so when he suddenly began leaning towards you, reaching over your head towards the side table, you were a little surprised.  That was nothing however to the surprise you felt when he inadvertently gave you a rather spectacular look straight down his shirt. Your coughing spiked and your face warmed.

“Here.” Itachi leant back down, a glass of water clutched in his left hand. With his right hand, he helped you sit up before handing you the glass. You grabbed it and drained the whole glass immediately. The cool reprieve from the irritating scratching was a welcome feeling. Almost welcome enough to make you forget about Itachi’s blush pink nipples. Almost.

Realistically, you weren’t sure how could you forget a view so enticing. No, stop it, brain, now was not the time. Except… this was the time. This was a pocket dimension based around porn logic and that was your first taste of it.

Wow, who knew porn logic was so delightfully pink and round, you thought giddy.

“Are you feeling better?” Itachi asked suddenly, knocking you out of your thoughts. His jumper was firmly back in the place it was supposed to be.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine.” You knew you must have had a stupid, dazed grin on your face, but knowing about it didn’t make it any easier to stop. “You’re very pretty, by the way.”

Itachi froze, and for the first time since you’d met him, his composure slipped, a tiny, almost unnoticeable blush bloomed high on his cheeks. It was a similar colour to his—Nope, going to stop you right there, brain.

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, only staring at you, wide eyed. You were surprised by his surprise. Surely this man was more than used to people fawning and falling all over him; he was objectively beautiful. Although, living in the woods like this, was there anyone else to tell him that he was beautiful? “Thank you.”

The blush lingered for a few more moments before vanishing. Any amount that you had succeeded in flustering him was now locked behind that stoic, but not unkind, face.

“I need you to give me the name of someone I can contact for you, someone willing to escort you home and stop you wandering alone in the woods during a winter storm.” You could feel the gentle rebuke in his words. “I have methods of contacting the nearest towns and villages, I just need to know who to send for. Who should I ask for?”

Right, this was your first attempt at properly engaging in the story, in your character. You had almost forgotten that you weren’t fully yourself in this world. At least your supposed amnesia would be an excellent shield as you came to terms with this experience.

“I don’t know,” you said simply, trying hard to look baffled.

Itachi sent you a sympathetic frown, “You don’t have anyone to contact? Then tell me where you live, and I can escort you home myself.”

“No, I mean, I don’t remember.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You don’t remember?” he eventually repeated, brows furrowed.

“I- I don’t know where I came from, who I am, or why I was in those woods.” This wasn’t your best acting work, for sure, but it seemed like enough to convince Itachi, whose frown deepened even further.

“How is that possible?” Itachi murmured, mostly to himself. He scanned your face but didn’t seem to find anything of note. “Do you remember anything at all?”

“Only basic things, like my name and how to eat and drink.” To prove your point, you gave him your name and rough age.

You watched as Itachi’s frown melted into something a little more determined. His eyes took on a hard edge, and despite his gentle kindness, you acknowledged that he had the potential to be rather intimidating.

“I will help you,” he said firmly, looking you straight in the eyes. “I’m a witch; I can find some way to recover your memories and get you home, I promise. Until then, you are more than welcome to stay with me.”

He really was a kind man, you thought, ‘fictional’ or not.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “It means a great deal to me that you’re willing to help.”

Itachi smiled politely as he stood, “Then I will start searching for a spell or potion that can help. First though, you must be hungry. I think it’s time for some dinner.”

Oh, this was going to get you good; you had such a thing for pretty people cooking for you. There was just something about it that satisfied that part of yourself that wanted to be doted on. You were going to enjoy this. Actually, you should probably check one important thing first.

‘James? Does this body have any allergies or intolerances of its own? Or did I just bring mine with me?’

‘Neither. Allergies and intolerances are inconvenient for erotica stories and thus do not exist.’

No allergies or intolerances at all?

‘James, this is the best day of my life and I want to kiss you on the mouth.’

‘You are supposed to kiss the omega right in front of you, human alpha, are you confused?’

You didn’t reply. Itachi started walking back to the door he’d come from. Just as he reached the doorway, he turned back to you.

“Oh! My name is Itachi,” he said. You knew that, of course, but it was still nice to hear him say it. “Take your time getting up, I’ll set the table and finish up the cooking.” He disappeared round the corner, although he didn’t shut the door behind him.

Ignoring his instructions to take your time, you cheerfully threw back your blankets and stood up, taking a second to shake out your limbs and run your fingers through your hair. You looked exactly as you remembered yourself looking, just dressed in different clothes. You were wearing a very simple long-sleeved shirt and pair of trousers that looked like they would fit in with whatever pseudo time period this was. You wondered briefly if these were your clothes, or if Itachi had dressed you in something of his. The clothes did seem to fit you too well to be borrowed, but you weren’t sure if porn logic made everything that much more convenient. No amount of convenience with clothes would ever trump convenience with food. You had no allergies or intolerances, and you’d never develop them in the future either!

The living room looked a bit smaller now that you were standing, but it only added to the cosy vibe. You took a deep breath, savouring the smell of the firewood burning and whatever was cooking in the kitchen mingling in the air. You followed Itachi into the kitchen, feeling like you could skip with glee.

Stepping in, you were grateful you had socks protecting your feet from the stone floor. The kitchen was small, containing only the necessary kitchen supplies and a tiny, two-person table, although through the window you could see hints of an outdoor kitchen with a fire pit and grill, and a much larger dining table, probably for use in the summer. The clutter from the living room continued into the kitchen, with pots of wooden spoons, pans and dried flowers hanging on the walls, and an impressive spice cabinet that took up almost the entire back wall.

It also looked like something straight out of your Autumn Pinterest board.

Itachi was at the oven, stirring a pot of something that you couldn’t see.

“It smells great,” you said earnestly, sliding up beside him and peering into the pot. It seemed like some kind of stew.

Itachi turned, and greeted you with what seemed like his first proper, genuine smile, “You think so?”

“I do. Thank you so much for cooking.”

You weren’t quite confident enough to stake your life on it, but you were pretty sure that, if the pot on the stove wasn’t bubbling so loudly, you’d have been able to hear him purring. The way he suddenly just so happened to be pressing one hand to his mouth only supported your theory. Clearly, this omega hadn’t been praised enough in his life. Thank goodness you were here to rectify that.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I can lay the table if you tell me where everything is.”

Itachi cleared his throat (and you could swear there was a hint of a purr in there!), “No, that’s alright, just sit down, I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure, because—”

Itachi clicked his fingers and out of one of the cabinets floated two bowls and two glasses. You watched, completely stunned as they floated to the table and set themselves neatly in front of two of the chairs. Itachi then waved his hand at one of the drawers and two forks and two spoons did the same as the dishware, laying themselves neatly alongside the bowls.

Magic.

Real life magic.

Holy shit, you hadn’t thought about the fact that he was a witch, not really. Magic was real. Itachi just laid the table with magic. You sat down heavily in one of the chairs, mouth hanging open slightly.

‘James?!’ you mentally asked, desperately.

‘I cannot kiss you, human alpha.’

‘What? No! James, is it possible for me to learn magic in this world?’ Please say yes, please say yes.

‘Yes, everyone in this world has the ability to learn at least some kind of magic. It will not become clear how much magic you have until you are actually apart of this world, but I should imagine you will at least be capable of brewing potions.’

Yep, this was definitely the best day of your life. Or afterlife? Either way, if you picked this world, you’d be able to learn at least some magic. That counteracted a lot of the downsides of living without modern technology that you had been considering. Not having modern medicine was moot if potions were just as effective. Not having electric heaters was fine if warming charms existed.

Itachi knocked you out of your thoughts when he came over with the pot and began gently ladling the stew into your bowl. You would explore magic later, right now, was time to eat.

…

You had eaten most of the stew in a silence that neither you nor Itachi felt compelled to break, although you had noticed him sneaking glances at you every so often. The stew tasted homey, hearty, slightly sweet, and all around delicious.

‘James, I am so happy right now.’

‘I did not realise humans were so passionate about stew. I will make a note.’

You shook you head lightly, vaguely amused by James’ shenanigans.

Even with the display of magic earlier, things felt weirdly normal. Baring the nip slip from earlier, there hadn’t been any other porn logic that you’d noticed. It was kind of a relief. Although you were still incredibly excited to be horny on main forever, being able to just breathe and enjoy a nice meal was good too. No one wanted to have sex shoved in their faces 24 hours a day.

You attracted yet another glance from Itachi, but this time, you noticed that he had a tiny splash of stew at the corner of his mouth. Despite just finishing establishing your relief that porn wasn’t going to be shoved in your face, you felt immediately compelled to test some porn logic. You didn’t want to ruminate on what that rapid 180 mental turn might suggest about your psyche.

If porn logic was at play, could you just… reach and wipe his mouth for him? Would he take that positively? You debated on it for a bit, but ultimately decided to try it; you had amnesia for an excuse if he didn’t take it well, and it wasn’t so creepy that he’d hate you, hopefully. He was your love interest, right? You needed to flirt with him.

“Itachi?” you said softly, shuffling your chair slightly towards him. His head snapped up to yours, spoon hovering over his bowl. “You have a little something.”

Slowly, allowing him plenty of time to reject your advances, you reached a hand out towards his face. Itachi watched you, wide eyed, but didn’t move.

Slowly, your thumb made contact with the corner of his soft lips. In what seemed like some kind of automatic impulse, Itachi’s lips fell apart slightly as soon as you touched them. You could feel his hot, stuttering breath, and as you swiped the stew away, you were treated to the smallest flicker of his tongue. You shivered as the wet warmth brushed against you; the atmosphere was electric.

You took in a breath of Itachi’s scent which was suddenly twice as strong. Yeah, you were definitely in an erotica, fuck.

Itachi’s spoon clattered back into his bowl, splashing droplets of stew over the wooden table and shattering the heated moment. Itachi stood suddenly, his chair scraping across the stone.

“I- I’ll wipe up the spill,” he said, rushing to the counter to grab a cloth.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your smile, “Right, you do that.”

Pretty omega, inviting you to stay in his home, cooking for you, accepting your flirtations. The heat in your stomach was no longer just from the food.

The electricity died as Itachi wiped up the stew and took the bowls in one fell swoop, leaving everything feeling normal. You tried to offer to wash up, but Itachi declined, escorting you back to the sofa ‘to rest’.

“I’m going to go and check in my study for any information on amnesia. Please make yourself at home, but don’t go outside; if you faint in the cold and I don’t realise, it could end up worse than last time.”

You were about to argue that you weren’t going to drop dead the second he took his eyes off you, (you wanted to see the magical woods you were in!), but the words died when you realised that from Itachi’s perspective you were sick and had already fainted in an inopportune location once before. He was just looking out for you.

“I’ll stay inside,” you promised, reluctantly. “But you have to give me a proper tour of the woods at some point, okay?”

He inclined his head, “Of course. I won’t be long.” He then disappeared through a door on the other side of the living room.

The second he was gone you went back into the kitchen and washed the dishes.

Then, unable to see the woods, and not wanting to be creepily exploring the rest of the house without your host, you found yourself in front of the fire, searching through Itachi’s books. Unfortunately, Itachi seemed to keep all the magic books somewhere else, which wasn’t surprising you supposed, but you did manage to find a book on fairytales. How different would this world’s fairytales be? To be honest, you hadn’t expected the world to be so in depth as to have its own fairytales at all.

You flicked through the book for a few minutes, enjoying the illustrations more than anything.

‘James, are any of these stories based in truth in this world?’

‘Oh, I should think only around half have any significant amount of truth to them.’

‘Half?!’ you said mentally, trying not to choke. ‘I’m in the middle of the woods and vulnerable! What do you mean half of them are real? That big foot esque thing with horns and jagged teeth on page three isn’t real though, is it?’

‘Not anymore!’ James said, as chipper as can be.

“Right,” you said breathlessly. “I think I’ve had enough of reading fairytales actually.” You closed the book, intending to slot it back onto the shelf when a single page fell out and fluttered to the floor, dangerously close to the fire. Fuck, you were left alone for an hour, and you were already wrecking things. You snatched it up off the ground, intending to slip it back inside and not mention it, when you realised that the page didn’t look like it belonged to that book at all.

In fact, you held it up closer to your face, it looked like a potion recipe!

“’Amnesia Reversal Potion’,” you read out loud. “No way.” What were the odds on finding this? Actually, erotica books didn’t normally have complicated plots, so the odds of this literally falling into your lap were probably quite high.

You stood up, recipe in hand, and went to the door that Itachi had left through earlier, “Itachi?” You got no response. It was his study, so maybe he wouldn’t mind you just poking your head in. You slowly pushed open the door and slipped your head in. “Itachi? I think I found something to—”

Oh.

This was his study and his bedroom.

And you had just walked in on him changing.

Itachi jumped in shock, grabbing the nearest blanket and holding it over his chest while you stood frozen in the doorway.

Yep, those beautiful nipples were absolutely haunting your dreams tonight.

…

After many apologies were handed out and the awkward horniness of receiving your second accidental flashing had dissipated somewhat, you and Itachi were sitting in front of the fire together, looking over the potion recipe that you’d found.

It was dark now, and the vicious Winter wind shook the windows and billowed around the chimney. Thankfully, having Itachi pressed against your side was fighting the chill away. The hot chocolate that Itachi had made was helping too, served in mugs carved with runes that kept the delicious drink at the perfect temperature.

You had also been delighted to discover that Itachi wore glasses when reading, and he looked rather adorable when he adjusted the thick, black frames as he scanned the recipe.

Itachi made a considering noise as he went through the ingredient list, “The potion is simple to make, but has quite a long ingredients list. I have most of it, thankfully, but there are a few things I’ll need to go out and buy or collect.” He put the paper down and took a sip of his hot chocolate, making a little sinful noise of pleasure as he did. The hot drink fogged up his glasses, so Itachi took them off. “There isn’t much we can do tonight, but tomorrow I can start collecting everything we need.”

“Can I join you?” you asked, shuffling a bit closer.

Itachi seemed surprised, but soon that melted into a smile, “Of course, as long as you’re feeling up to it. I’ll charm all your clothes against the cold, just to be safe.”

A fair request seeing that he lived in the middle of a freezing forest. It did bring up some of the questions you’d had for him though. You weren’t sure if James knew about Itachi’s backstory, but it felt wrong going behind his back regardless. You’d rather hear it from him.

“Can I ask you some questions? About you?”

Itachi hesitated for a moment before seemingly forcing himself to relax, “Of course.”

“Why do you live in the middle of nowhere? Do you… have friends?” You hesitated before asking the next question. “Family?”

“I used to live in a village not too far from here,” Itachi said slowly, staring into his mug. “It’s where I was born and where my family is still living. There was an… incident, when I was a teenager. The council decided that it was in everyone’s best interests that I lived out here instead.”

“What kind of incident?” You didn’t want to push him too much, but you were deeply fascinated as to how he had ended up here. Also, to make a decision for your forever pocket universe, you wanted to know as much as possible about the omegas that’d be joining you.

Itachi gripped his mug tightly, “I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

“I don’t think that would happen,” you said with quiet confidence. “Even if you did something bad as a teenager, I’d much rather judge you on who you are now. And the person I see in front of me is someone kind, someone who tries to help complete strangers, and forgives the stupid alpha who came blundering into his bedroom at an inopportune moment.”

Itachi breathed out, amused.

“I think you’re wonderful, Itachi.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, quietly. “Maybe I’ll tell you the full story someday. In a way, I’m very grateful to have my own space, and I still meet with my family sometimes when they can make the trip to me. I do not dislike my life.”

“Tell me about your family,” you said, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face. Itachi leant into your hand ever so slightly.

“There were four of us in our household, my father, mother, and my younger brother, Sasuke. Here” -Itachi bent forward and dragged a rather large, leather-bound sketch book out from under the sofa- “I have some sketches of him.”

He propped the book up on your laps and opened it, revealing countless sketches of trees, fruit, plants, even some of the living room you were sitting in. You noticed immediately how few there were of people.

Itachi flipped until he reached a page filled with sketches of a grumpy looking preteen, “This is Sasuke, he’s just turned 13, although the most recent sketch is this one from his 12th birthday.”

You focused on the sketch that Itachi had pointed out. Sasuke looked like he was scowling over the top of a birthday cake. “He seems… happy?”

Itachi didn’t notice the questioning tone, only smiling to himself, “He was, it was such an amazing day. I’ve met him a few times since then between our homes, but that was the last time he was in my home.”

“I can tell that you care about him a lot,” you said, gently tracing one of the drawings with your finger. “You must miss him.”

Itachi didn’t speak and you were worried that you had offended him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No, you’re right,” Itachi said, giving you a sad smile. “He’s my baby brother. He’s everything to me, but that’s why I had to distance myself, to keep him safe from the burden of guilt by association.”

“Aren’t you lonely here though?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, voice heavy like he was confessing to a dirty secret. “All I wanted when I was younger was to have people leave me alone, to have the pressure lifted for just one day, and I do relish it, being able to study the kind of magic that I want, to learn to cook and bring my garden to life, but… It’s not bad here, not at all, and once my brother is old enough to make the journey to see me by himself, I think things will be even better.”

You could tell that there was so much that he wasn’t saying, so much that he was implying, and so much about his own life that he hadn’t come to terms with yet, but you held your tongue. It sounded like he’d been pressured until he exploded, and then been punished and sent away for it. Whatever details you were missing wouldn’t stop you feeling outraged on his behalf.

With the snap of the sketch book shutting, you understood that he was ending the conversation though. You would have to give your passionate and ill-informed defence of his unknown past actions on another occasion.

Itachi leant over to put the sketchbook back away under the sofa, but on the way back up, he accidentally knocked what was left of his hot chocolate all over your lap. You gasped as you saw the liquid pooling on the blanket, the warmth bleeding into your skin moments later. You tried to push the blanket off your lap, but you weren’t fast enough to stop it leaking through to your clothes.

“I’m so sorry!” Itachi said, helping you drag the blanket off. “I don’t know what happened, I’m not normally so clumsy.”

“It’s okay,” you said, cringing at the feeling of the hot liquid rolling around. “Accidents happen.” You awkward shuffled off the couch with your hips raised to limit the damage. “At least it isn’t boiling hot.”

“Regardless, I’m sorry,” Itachi said again, grabbing a random cloth off the side table. “Stand still.” Itachi crouched in front of you and with the cloth, began dabbing firmly at the hot chocolate stain. Yes, the stain that was directly over your crotch.

You sucked in a breath, “Um, Itachi?”

“I’ll have to grab you a pair of pyjama trousers to borrow,” he said, almost comically unaware of what he was currently doing.

He continued to dab forcefully, rubbing at the stain in an attempt to limit the damage. This was going to be dangerous in about three seconds because an omega was pawing at your cock and your stupid body didn’t care about the difference between this and the other kind of pawing.

“Itachi!” you said, more urgently this time, aware of the direction your blood was now flowing.

“Yes?” He looked up at you, eyes wide, at an angle that really didn’t help resist the tide of dirty thoughts. You wondered how he’d look with that beautiful face covered in your--  

Too late. You now had a massive boner and Itachi’s hand was resting right on top of it.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Your hand, Itachi.”

You watched as Itachi slowly put the pieces together, his eyes tracking from his hand to the area his hand was resting on, up to your face, and finally back to your crotch. You saw the exact moment that it clicked in his head.

“Oh.” Itachi froze, hand still resting on your erection. The cloth dropped to the ground as Itachi’s grip weakened, revealing the outline of your cock straining against the fabric of your trousers. The soft, malleable fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. “That’s… big.”

You snort-laughed, mainly out of surprise, “Itachi!”

That finally did the trick, knocking Itachi out of his trance. He yanked his hand back like he’d been burnt, “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

You burst out laughing while Itachi buried his red face in his hands. It was extra amusing because it was stoic Itachi who had accidentally been two pieces of fabric away from giving you a handjob. Porn logic was equal parts horny and hilarious, it seemed.

“Don’t worry about it.” You continued to giggle through the words and helped Itachi to his feet. “Can you grab me some pyjamas and point me in the direction of the bathroom, please?”

“Right, yes, of course, the bathroom is through that door, I’ll go grab you something to wear and leave it outside the door.” Itachi scurried off, cheeks pink, and you followed his directions into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the door and closing it behind you.

It was weird to see a bathroom lit only by warm candlelight, but there were certainly enough candles to do it. Every surface had at least three candles and a plant, arranged in a way that made you once again think of your Pinterest board, but also of the massive fire hazard this would surely be if Itachi couldn’t do magic.

You leant against the bathroom door and pressed a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heartbeat. This porn logic thing felt good for your soul and bad for your heart. That whole series of events had been pretty funny though, and you certainly weren’t going to complain about having Itachi’s hands on you. Even though you’d only known him for a day, you were already very happy with your choice. Actually, that brought up a great question.

‘James? How long do I have in each of the pocket dimensions?’

‘Long enough, human alpha.’

You huffed; that was so unhelpful. What was also unhelpful was your massive boner. While this was an erotica, things hadn’t moved so quickly that you thought Itachi would be down for going all the way on your first night, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You wanted to move a little more slowly, to make sure he was comfortable and savour the moment. You also refused to blow this like those incels James had mentioned. You were above that which meant the boner had to go.

“Please go down?” you tried asking politely, taking off your stained trousers. It stayed stubbornly upright, not even wilting slightly once exposed to the cold air. You sighed; that never worked. Well, here goes nothing.

You moved over to the sink and turned on the cold tap, a grimace already forming on your face.

‘James, wish me luck.’

‘Why do you need—’

You yelped loud enough that some birds outside the window took flight in shock. Fuck, that was cold!

…

When that was sorted, you opened the door to find a neat pile of pyjamas, shower supplies, a towel, and toothbrush waiting for you. A quick (and almost certainly magically warmed) shower later and you were ready for bed.

Exiting the bathroom, you realised that the sofa wasn’t made up as a bed anymore, the way it had been when you’d first woken up. Itachi was nowhere to be seen, so you went to his bedroom door to find him. Having learnt your lesson from before, you knocked and waited to be called in.

“Hey,” you said softly, entering his bedroom. You watched as he extinguished some of his candles with a candle snuffer, bathing the room in a much gentler light. The large candle shaped like a black cat that he had on his chest of drawers made you smile. You hadn’t seen it the first time, probably because you’d been distracted by two very cute, pink, round things, that you were not supposed to be thinking about brain, now was not the time!

“Hello.” He turned around and you pretended not to see the way his eyes flickered straight to your crotch before settling on your face.

“I was just going to ask if we could set the sofa back up into a bed,” you said, trying not to preen under the attention your cock had garnered from the pretty omega. Maybe he’d be thinking about that while you were thinking about his pretty nipples.

Itachi averted his eyes for a moment as he put down the candle snuffer, “It’s very cold tonight.”

“It is.”

“I’m worried that I don’t have enough blankets to keep the both of us warm, and you might still be unwell from fainting in the snowstorm, so I was thinking, do you… I mean, would you want to share my bed? With me?” Itachi spoke quickly, like he was pushing the words out as fast as possible while he still avoided making eye contact.

A grin slowly bloomed on your face; he was so cute.

“If you don’t mind, that’d be great,” you said, trying to keep your grin from coming across as creepy.

“Really?” His head spun around to face you again, his hair, which you only just realised had been freed from his ponytail, fanned out around his face. “I mean, that’s great.”

You stepped closer to him, “Great.”

He stepped closer to you, “Yeah.”

Somehow that electricity from earlier was back in the air and you felt like you were being pulled into Itachi’s orbit. Without your conscious permission, one of your hands rose and gently cupped the left side of Itachi’s face, rubbing the soft skin there with your thumb.  

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort but found none. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.  

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, reverently. Itachi’s eyes looked glossy for a moment, but he blinked the moisture away, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering open and closed as you studied him. “I know I’ve only been here for a day, but… Is it strange to say I really like you.’

Itachi took in a sharp breath, but slowly shook his head.

 “Then, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Itachi breathed out, immediately closing his eyes.

Good, because he was irresistible, and although you knew it wasn’t time for sex just yet, you hadn’t chosen erotica because you wanted a slow burn.

Slowly, giving Itachi ample time to change his mind, you inched your face closer to his until you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You expected to feel his breath too, but you quickly realised that he must have been holding it. How cute. Well, there was no need to leave him literally or figuratively holding his breath any longer.

You pressed forward and made the connection, warm lips against warm lips, your own eyes falling closed now too. Itachi let out a very quiet noise of surprise that you only heard because you were so close to him. You let out a little hum of your own, less out of shock and more out of satisfaction. You may have only known him for about five hours, but you’d been wanting to kiss him for at least four and a half of them.

The outside world faded away as you gently guided his lips with your own. The sound of the wind howling and the cottage walls groaning, the fire in the living room crackling, all of it was secondary to the kiss.

With your free arm, you looped Itachi around the waist and tugged him closer until your chests were pressed against each other. Itachi steadied himself with one hand on your raised elbow and the other on your shoulder. Being this close was making your alpha instincts incredibly smug. He felt safe with you so soon, willing to be vulnerable in your presence, to let you love him.

With just a little bit more pressure, Itachi’s lips parted for you. The tips of your tongues met ever so slightly, just flicking against each other as the back of your throat now burnt with Itachi’s scent. The open-mouthed kissing managed to coax another, louder, noise from his lips.

“So good,” you murmured against him, relishing in the gasp that generated. You had been right; Itachi loved being praised. He was still hesitant though, only moving his lips in ways you had already moved them. He was allowing you to guide him. You wondered if he was lacking experience.

You caught Itachi’s bottom lip between your teeth and were rewarded when he bucked his hips forward, brushing them against yours. You shouldn’t have bothered getting rid of the erection earlier, because it was now back at full force. And by the feel of it, Itachi was joining you this time.

A strange flash of light bled through your closed eyelids and forced you away from Itachi with a confused noise. What on Earth?

Itachi whined, looking incredibly dazed with heavy lidded eyes and no control over his scent. He fisted one hand in your shirt like he was trying to pull you back. For a second, you thought you saw his eyes flash red, but it was gone in the next moment, and you wrote it off as a trick of the light.

What was that light, anyway?

Oh, damn. You glanced over Itachi’s shoulder and were greeted with the three remaining lit candles burning out of control. Their flames reached up at least two feet above the wick, and they were burning… pink?

“Um, Itachi? Your candles are kind of going crazy.”

He whirled around, still looking a bit dazed. With a wave of his hand, the candles returned to their normal height and colour. Itachi cleared his throat bashfully, “I didn’t mean to do that, my apologies.”

It was kind of hot that he got so into the kiss that he’d lost control of his magic.

“It’s okay,” you brushed his fringe from his face, making sure to be ever so gentle with him. Itachi was not a weak person, that’s something you were sure of, but he was weak for gentle affection and praise. The vaguely stoic man you had met hours earlier was nowhere to be found now, as Itachi gazed at you, eyes wide and open, vulnerable. “Bedtime, hm?”

“Okay,” he said, softly. Despite his agreement, he made no move to the bed, only latching one of his hands onto your shirt again. Softly you pushed on his back a little and guided him towards the bed. Only once you fully tucked him in did he let go of you and allow you to climb into the other side.

Disappointingly, Itachi made no move to cuddle, staying firmly on his own side, but you understood that he probably needed some space to process what was happening. In fact, he had kind of looked a little like some of your old partners had done when you’d put them in subspace. But that couldn’t be right, there was no way you had put him in subspace just from kissing him, right? No, that was ludicrous, he was probably just a little overwhelmed; you would leave him to his own space for now.

It had been one hell of a kiss though, you thought, touching your lips as you got yourself comfortable in the bed. Itachi was doing things to your brain and your body. You didn’t know if it was him, some kind of magic, or the effect of living inside an erotica novel, but every touch felt like so much more. You were chomping at the bit to eventually get to explore more of Itachi’s body and the way you could make each other feel.

You yawned, thinking over the first day you’d had. It had been really fun. You still had to consider the specifics of what kind of backstory you wanted to give yourself, but you had plenty of time to figure that out later. You didn’t know how you were going to explain wandering the woods in the middle of a snowstorm what sounded like miles from the nearest village. You were also going to have to get your hands on a map at some point so you could name an actual place that you were supposedly from. That was a problem for future you though.

The quaint, cottage core existence had been treating you well, supplemented by magic of course. It was making you feel warm and fuzzy, like part of you was being healed by living like this. It was simple and relaxing, and all around nice. Tomorrow, when the search for the ingredients began, you were looking forward to seeing more of the world.

Just as you had finally found a comfortable position on your back, and your thoughts had begun to drift, Itachi turned over so that he was facing you. You couldn’t tell if he was fully asleep, or just tired and acting on impulse, but he quickly plastered himself to your side, tucking his head into your neck, wrapping an arm around your torso, and hitching a leg over your hips, inadvertently grinding his hard cock straight into your thigh. Once he was comfortable, he let out a big sigh and relaxed completely. It didn’t surprise you that someone so lonely and gentle wanted to cuddle in his sleep.

You weren’t going to move him, and you were too tired to think about the hard warmth that was currently poking you, so you simply allowed the sound of his quiet purrs to lull you to sleep. You would make sure he was satisfied once you’d both had a good sleep.

‘Goodnight, James,’ you mentally slurred out, tucking your face into Itachi’s hair. You vaguely heard her reply before you drifted away, comfortable and completely exhausted.

Next Chapter

#the quest for a second life #omegaverse #a/b/o #alpha!reader #naruto #itachi #omega!itachi #prose #n-sfw #reader insert #itachi uchiha #dom!reader #dom reader #alpha reader #sub itachi #sub!itachi