#And I KNOW it's unfair towards the people and I love all of my friends from the usa deeply and truly

[kyouka-supremacy]

WAIT YOU AREN'T AMERICAN???

[mae-gi-writes]

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

[worldlxvlys]

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[octaneink]

Wait, you didn't know?

Will Lenney x Fem!Reader

Summary : The Reader really likes Will. Like, really likes him. She spends all their time together, she just need to ask him out, becuase they weren't dating yet...right? Warnings: Suggestive undertones towards the end Notes: I hope people enjoy this!

It all started on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. You were running late and the world seemed determined to make your day worse. Your umbrella had decided to betray you, flipping inside out the moment you stepped out the bus, and by the time you reached the coffee shop, you were soaked. Your hair was plastered to your face, your clothes were clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and you were pretty sure your mascara was halfway down your cheeks. You were a mess, and all you wanted was a large coffee and a quiet corner to hide in.

You’d were supposed to meet your friend Mel here, but as you shook the worst of the rain off your jacket and pulled out your phone to check the time, a text notification lit up the screen.

Mel: SO sorry, something came up. Rain check? Literally? (It's pissing out there.)

You sighed, disappointment settling in your chest. Mel's cancelled last-minute three times this month already. Still, you’d braved the storm for this hangout, so you might as well treat yourself. You shuffled toward the counter, your wet shoes squeaking against the floor, when—

Thud.

You collided with someone. Hard. The impact sent you stumbling backward, and you would’ve fallen if not for the strong hands that shot out to steady you.

“Whoa, careful there,” a voice said, and you looked up to see the most unfairly attractive guy you’d ever met. He had messy brown hair, a lopsided grin, and eyes that seemed to sparkle. Unfair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No worries,” he said, still grinning. “I’m Will, by the way.”

You introduced yourself, and he gestured to the counter. “Let me buy you a coffee to make up for almost knocking you over.”

“You didn’t knock me over,” you protested, but he was already walking toward the counter, and you found yourself following him.

You’d planned to grab your drink and leave, but Will slid into the seat across from you at the tiny corner table you’d claimed, his coffee in hand. “So, what brings you out in this monsoon?” he asked, nodding at the rain streaking the windows.

“I was supposed to meet a friend, but she bailed,” you admitted, stirring your coffee absently. “You?”

“Nothing much, really, just fancied a coffee,” he said with a laugh. “And hey, her loss. More time for me to annoy you.”

That was how it started—with a cancelled plan, some coffee, and an awkward introduction to a guy who seemed to have a permanent smile on his face. You sat together that day, talking for hours about everything and nothing. By the time you left, the rain had stopped, and you had his number, a promise to meet up again, and a strange, giddy feeling that maybe Mel’s cancellation hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

The text comes through on a Thursday afternoon, just as you’re debating whether you should make plans for the weekend or just spend the evening buried under a blanket. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Will’s name.

“So, I know I already bought you a coffee to make up for almost knocking you over, but I’m thinking I owe you a proper apology. How do you feel about arcade games and terrible prizes this weekend? My treat.”

You stare at the message, your thumb hovering over the screen. The arcade? That feels like a date. But before you can overthink it, you type back: “Only if you’re prepared to lose at air hockey.”

His reply is almost instant, a winking emoji and an address.

When you arrive at the arcade, he’s already there, leaning against the wall near the entrance with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. He’s wearing a cream jumper that looks soft and well-loved, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and a hat sits snugly on his head. The clothes gives him a cosy, approachable vibe, and you can’t help but notice how it brings out the warmth in his eyes. He spots you immediately, pushing off the wall with that lopsided grin of his.

“Hey, you made it,” he says, his voice warm and teasing.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you reply, and you’re surprised by how much you mean it.

The arcade is loud and chaotic; everywhere you looked, there were flashing lights, beeping machines, and the occasional triumphant shout. Will leads you straight to the air hockey table, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper even further, revealing toned forearms that catch your attention. Your eyes follow the motion, lingering for a moment before you quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Ready to get destroyed?” he asks, his grin wide and teasing as he grabs a paddle and slides it across the smooth surface of the table.

“In your dreams,” you shoot back, picking up your own paddle and positioning yourself at the opposite end.

The first round is intense. Will’s competitive side comes out in full force, his reflexes sharp as he slams the puck back toward you with surprising precision. You manage to block a few shots, but he scores the winning goal with a flick of his wrist, his face lighting up with triumph.

“Beginner’s luck,” you say, though you can’t help but smile at how pleased he looks.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he replies, already resetting the puck for the next round.

The second round is your chance to shine. You focus, your movements quick and deliberate, and soon you’re the one scoring points. Will’s competitive grin falters as you block his shots one after another, and when you score the winning goal, he throws his hands up in mock defeat.

“Okay, okay, I see how it is,” he says, leaning on the table, his jumper riding up slightly at the waist. “I’ll admit it. You’re better than I thought.”

“Thought I’d be an easy win, huh?” you tease, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

“Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But I like a challenge.”

By the third round, the competitive edge has softened into pure fun. You’re both laughing too hard to play properly, the puck flying off the table more than once. At one point, Will reaches across to retrieve it, his arm brushing against yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact.

“You’re cheating,” you accuse, though you’re grinning too much to sound serious.

“How am I cheating?” he asks, feigning offence.

“You’re distracting me,” you say, gesturing to his exaggerated paddle movements and ridiculous facial expressions.

“Oh, so now I’m distracting?” He says, his tone playful but his eyes holding yours for a beat too long.

You feel your cheeks warm and quickly look down at the table, resetting the puck to hide your smile. “Just play the game, Will.”

He laughs, that warm, easy sound that makes your chest tighten, and the game resumes. By the end of the third round, neither of you is keeping score anymore. You’re too busy laughing, the sound blending with the chaos of the arcade around you.

When you finally step away from the table, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your sides ache from laughing. The machine spits out a handful of tickets, and Will grabs one before you can, holding it up like a prize.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing.

“Keeping this,” he says, folding the ticket neatly and tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Why that one?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, his grin softening into something almost shy. “To remember the day I met my air hockey nemesis.”

As you move on to the racing games, he casually rests a hand on the back of your chair, leaning in to point out the controls. “You’ve got to drift on this curve,” he says, his voice low and close to your ear. You try to focus on the game, but your heart skips a beat when his hand brushes yours as he reaches for the joystick.

At one point, he drags you to a photo booth. “Come on, we need evidence of this historic day,” he says, pulling the curtain shut behind you. The booth is cramped, and you’re both laughing before the first photo even snaps. In the first frame, his arm is slung around your shoulders, and you’re both mid-laugh. In the second, he makes a ridiculous cross-eyed face while you pretend to punch him. The third is your cheek pressed to his, his grin wide and unguarded, your eyes crinkled with laughter. The fourth is just him, staring at the camera like he’s about to say something, soft and sincere.

When the strip prints out, he grabs it before you can, holding it up with a triumphant grin. “I’m keeping this. For blackmail purposes,” he jokes, tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Blackmail? For what?” you ask, laughing.

“For when I need to remind you that I’m way cooler than you,” he says, his tone teasing.

“You wish,” you shoot back, but you don’t push for the photos. There’s something about the way he looks at them before pocketing them—like they’re more than just a silly keepsake.

The first time you noticed it—really noticed it—was when you found yourself sitting cross-legged on Will’s bedroom floor, surrounded by a mountain of his laundry. He’d begged you to help him for five minutes, which somehow turned into you folding his shirts while he haphazardly tossed socks into a drawer. The room smelt like his cologne and the vanilla candle you bought him as a joke—the one he insists he hates but burns every time you come over.

It wasn’t the laundry or the mess that made you pause. It wasn’t even the way he grinned at you, sheepish and unapologetic, as he lobbed a balled-up pair of sweatpants in your direction. No, it was the way it all felt so normal, so right. Like this was just another Tuesday, another moment in the rhythm of your lives together. And then it hit you—this wasn’t just friendship. Friends didn’t spend their afternoons folding each other’s clothes, didn’t memorise the scent of each other’s cologne, didn’t keep candles burning just because the other person liked the smell.

You froze, a shirt halfway folded in your hands, as the realisation washed over you. This wasn’t just friendship. This was something more. And the scary part? You weren’t sure when it had started—or if it had ever been just friendship at all.

Your chest tightened, the weight of it pressing down on you, but before you could spiral too far, you forced yourself to focus on the shirt in your hands. It was inside-out and backward, and you held it up like evidence, raising an eyebrow at him. “You know,” you said, your voice teasing but soft, “this is why you can never find anything.”

“Hey, oraginsing is your superpower, not mine,” he replies, lobbing a balled-up pair of sweatpants at your head. You duck, laughing, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thud.

As you reach for another shirt, his wallet slides off the bed and lands at your feet, spilling receipts, loose change, and a crumpled arcade ticket. You start to shove everything back inside when something catches your eye—a faded strip of photos tucked behind his gym membership card. Your breath hitches.

It’s from the arcade. Months ago.

You trace the edge of the photos, the corners worn from being handled. Your throat tightens. You hadn’t even realised he’d kept them—let alone carried them around.

“Hey, have you seen my—” Will freezes in the doorway, his eyes darting from your face to the photos in your hand. His ears turn pink. “Oh. Uh. Those.”

“You kept them,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly fascinated with the carpet. “Yeah, well. It was a good day.”

You want to ask more—why did you keep them? What do they mean to you?—but the fear of ruining whatever this is stops you. So you just smile, tucking the photos back into his wallet. “It was a good day.”

He hesitates, then sinks down onto the floor beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. The air feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm. “You know,” he says, his voice soft, “I was thinking… we should do that again. Go to the arcade. Or, I don’t know, something else. Whatever you want.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He glances at you, his cheeks still flushed. “I mean, if you’re not sick of me yet.”

You laugh, but it comes out shaky. “Not even close.”

He grins, and for a moment, it feels like he’s about to say something more. But then he stands, grabbing the laundry basket. “C’mon, let’s finish this before I lose the will to live.”

You don’t push. You don’t ask. Because as much as you want to know what this is—what you are—you’re terrified of the answer. Terrified that if you name it, it might disappear.

The next week, the two of you were wandering aimlessly at the shopping centre when Will grabbed your hand and pulled you toward a photo booth. “C’mon,” he says, grinning. “Let’s make some new memories.”

You don’t argue.

The booth is cramped, your knees knocking together as the screen counts down—3… 2… 1…

The booth is cramped, the curtain barely closing behind you as you squeeze in beside Will. His shoulder presses against yours, warm and familiar, and the screen begins its countdown. On instinct, you both stick out your tongues, your laughter bubbling over as the flash goes off. The sound of his laugh fills the tiny space, and you can’t help but grin, even as you pretend to groan at his antics.

The second flash catches him mid-grimace, his face twisted into a ridiculous cross-eyed expression that makes you burst into laughter all over again. You playfully raise your fist, pretending to punch him, but your smile gives you away. He’s always been like this—silly, unguarded, effortlessly pulling you into his orbit.

By the third flash, the mood shifts. Your foreheads press together, your eyes closed, the world outside the booth fading away. It feels intimate, like you’re sharing a secret no one else could understand. His breath mingles with yours, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, suspended in time.

The final flash captures something you didn’t expect. His lips brush your temple, feather-light, and your smile softens, surprise flickering across your face. But it’s his gaze that stops you—his eyes locked on you, steady and unwavering, like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at. The moment feels too big, too real, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is, how quiet the booth has become.

When the strip prints out, neither of you says a word. He tears it carefully, handing you the half with his solo shot. “Now we match,” he says, his voice quiet, almost shy. You don’t mention the way his fingers trembled when he handed it to you. You don’t have to.

It’s Friday night, and you’re sprawled out on Will’s sofa, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows across the room. The movie is some action flick he picked—something with explosions and car chases—but neither of you are really paying attention. The bowl of popcorn sits half-forgotten between you, and his arm is slung over the back of the sofa, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair.

The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, a warm ripple that starts at the nape of your neck and spreads through your entire body. You try to play it cool, keeping your eyes glued to the screen, but the truth is, you couldn’t tell anyone what’s happening in the movie. The explosions and car chases blur into a meaningless haze of noise and colour, your attention entirely consumed by the way Will’s thumb brushes against your skin.

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this—little touches that feel intentional, like he’s testing the waters. His hand on your lower back as he guides you through a crowd. His knee bumping yours under the table at dinner. The way he always seems to find an excuse to be close, to linger, to make you feel like you’re the only person in the room.

His fingers trail lightly through your hair, the pads of his fingertips grazing the sensitive spot behind your ear. You bite your lip to keep from smiling, but it’s a losing battle. Your heart is racing, your thoughts spiralling out of control.

Does he know what he’s doing?

The question echoes in your mind, louder and louder, with every pass of his thumb. You steal a glance at him, but he’s staring at the screen, his expression unreadable. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he’s just being friendly.

But then his fingers tighten ever so slightly, tugging gently on a strand of your hair, and your breath catches.

He has to know. He has to.

Your mind races, flipping through every interaction, every moment, like you’re trying to piece together a puzzle. The way he always saves the last bite of dessert for you. The time he showed up at your door with cold medicine when you were sick. The way he says your name, soft and deliberate, like it’s something precious.

What does it mean? What does it mean?

You’re spiralling, your thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of hope and doubt. What if he feels the same way? What if he’s just waiting for you to say something? But what if you’re wrong? What if you ruin everything?

The movie fades into the background, the sound of gunfire and screeching tires drowned out by the pounding of your heart. You’re hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his body beside yours, the overwhelming scent of his cologne, the way his fingers have stilled in your hair, like he’s waiting for you to react.

Say something. Do something.

But you don’t. You can’t.

Instead, you lean back against the sofa, your shoulder pressing into his chest. He doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. The silence between you is heavy, charged with something unspoken, something you are not ready to name.

And so you sit there, your thoughts spiralling, your heart racing, and his hand still tangled in your hair.

“You know,” he says suddenly, his voice low and thoughtful, “this kinda feels like a date.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. The words hang in the air, heavy and loaded, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is, how his fingers have stilled in your hair. “Does it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, shifting slightly so he can look at you. His eyes are soft, his usual playful grin replaced with something more serious. “I mean, we’re sitting here, sharing popcorn, you’re stealing my hoodie…” He gestures to the oversized hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie, of course, because you’re always stealing his clothes. “Sounds like a date to me.”

You glance down at the hoodie, your fingers fiddling with the drawstrings. It smells like him—like his cologne and something uniquely Will—and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. “Maybe it is,” you say, trying to sound casual, like your heart isn’t pounding in your ears.

He smirks, that familiar lopsided grin returning. “Maybe it is.”

The movie continues to play in the background, the sound of gunfire and screeching tires filling the silence between you. But you’re not paying attention any more. You’re too focused on the way his hand has moved from the back of the sofa to your shoulder, his thumb tracing small circles on your arm.

“Do you…” you start, then hesitate, your courage faltering. “Do you want it to be? A date, I mean.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you regret asking. But then he leans in, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “What do you think?”

You don’t have a chance to respond before he pulls back, his smirk widening as he grabs a handful of popcorn. “Relax,” he says, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “I’m just messing with you.”

But the way his hand lingers on your arm, the way his eyes keep darting to yours—it doesn’t feel like he’s messing with you. It feels like he’s waiting for you to say something, to make the first move.

You don’t.

Instead, you lean back against the sofa, your shoulder pressing into his chest. He doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. The movie fades into background noise, and for the rest of the night, you stay like that—close, comfortable, and just a bit unsure.

The party is in full swing, the air thick with the hum of conversation, laughter, and the bass of the music thumping through the walls. You’re surrounded by people, but it feels like it’s just you and Will. He’s been by your side all night, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos. His hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you through the crowd, his touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver up your spine every time his fingers brush against you.

At one point, the heat, and noise become too much, and you tug on his sleeve. “Can we get some air?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the music.

He nods, his hand sliding to your waist as he leads you through the throng of people. The cool night air hits you like a relief as you step outside, the muffled sounds of the party fading behind you. You lean against the railing of the balcony, staring up at the stars, and for a moment, everything feels still.

Will stands beside you, close enough that his arm brushes against yours. You can feel the warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the crisp night air. You don’t say anything, and neither does he. The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, but there’s a tension there too—something unspoken, something electric.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and your breath catches. He’s already looking at you, his gaze soft but intense, like he’s seeing something no one else can. His eyes drop to your lips, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The noise of the party—the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses—fades into a distant hum, muffled and unimportant. Even the stars above seem to blur into a haze of light, their brilliance dimmed by the way he’s looking at you.

All you can focus on is him.

His face, so close you can see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his lips part slightly as if he’s about to say something. His eyes, dark and steady, holding yours like they’re trying to tell you something words can’t quite capture. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath, slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to steady himself.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your pulse racing so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. You lean in ever so slightly, drawn to him like a magnet, like there’s an invisible thread pulling you closer. His hand moves to the railing beside yours, his fingers brushing against your own, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Is this really happening?

Your mind races, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions crashing into each other. You’ve imagined this moment a thousand times—what it would feel like to close the distance, to finally know what it’s like to kiss him. But now that it’s here, now that he’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, you’re paralysed.

What if I mess this up? What if I read this all wrong?

His fingers twitch against yours, and you swear he’s leaning in too, his head tilting ever so slightly. Your lips part, your mind screaming at you to just do it, to stop overthinking and let yourself have this. But the doubt creeps in, relentless and suffocating.

What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this ruins everything?

But then his hand shifts, his fingers curling around yours, and the touch is so deliberate, so sure, that it knocks the air out of your lungs. His eyes flicker back up to yours, and for a split second, you see it—the same longing, the same hesitation, the same fear.

What if he’s just as scared as I am?

The thought hits you like a lightning bolt, and suddenly, you’re not just spiralling—you’re free-falling. Your mind is a chaotic mess of what-ifs and maybes, and you’re teetering on the edge of something you can’t quite name.

What if this is it? What if this is the moment everything changes?

You’re so close now, so close that you can see the faint freckles on his nose, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. Your breath mingles with his, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped spinning.

Just kiss him. Just—

“Will!”

The voice cuts through the moment like a knife, sharp and jarring, shattering the fragile bubble you’d been wrapped in. You both freeze, your breath hitching in unison, and you pull back, his hand still resting over yours on the railing. For a split second, neither of you moves, the weight of what almost happened hanging heavy in the air between you.

Then he clears his throat, the sound rough and awkward, and steps away, his hand slipping from yours. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion quick and nervous, and you notice the faint flush creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks a soft pink.

The spot where his hand had been feels scalding, like his touch had left a brand on your skin. You flex your fingers, trying to shake the sensation, but it lingers, a phantom warmth that makes your heart race all over again.

“We should probably head back in,” he says, his voice softer than usual, almost apologetic. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the ground, and you wonder if he’s as thrown by the moment as you are.

You nod, your throat too tight to speak, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed—relieved that the tension is broken, or disappointed that the moment slipped away before you could figure out what it meant.

Before you can overthink it, his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing through your own like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The touch is grounding, steadying, and you squeeze his hand without thinking, grateful for the anchor.

As you walk back inside, the noise of the party hits you like a wall—laughter, music, the clinking of glasses—but it feels distant, like you’re underwater. His hand stays in yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a rhythm that feels deliberate, like he’s trying to tell you something without words.

You don’t pull away.

The warmth of his hand is a stark contrast to the cool night air still clinging to your skin, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too—the weight of what almost happened, the promise of what could still be.

You’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask him out for weeks, but every time you get close, you chicken out. The words stick in your throat, your fear of ruining what you already have outweighing your desire for something more. But tonight, you’re determined. You’re at his place again, the two of you sitting on the floor with a pile of board games between you. Monopoly is spread out in front of you, though neither of you has been paying much attention to the game.

The room is warm, lit by the soft glow of the fairy lights strung across his walls. His hoodie—your hoodie now, really—hangs on your frame, and the familiarity of it gives you a small boost of courage.

“Will,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.

He looks up from the Monopoly board, his brow furrowed as he counts his fake money. “Yeah?”

“I… I need to tell you something.”

His expression softens, and he sets the money down, giving you his full attention. “What’s up?”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “I like you. Like, really like you. And I know we’ve been doing this whole… thing… where we act like we’re together, but we’re not, and I just… I want to be. With you. Officially.”

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, you’re terrified you’ve ruined everything. Your mind races, replaying the words over and over, wondering if you said too much or not enough. Did you sound desperate? Did you make it weird? The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, and you’re about to backtrack, to laugh it off and pretend it was a joke, when he smiles—that stupid, beautiful smile that makes your heart melt.

“Wait,” he says, his voice laced with amusement, “you thought we weren’t dating?”

You blink, your brain short-circuiting. “What?”

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar, and shakes his head like you’ve just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “I thought we were already together,” he says, leaning back on his hands, his grin widening. “I mean, we do everything couples do. We hang out all the time, we text constantly, you steal my hoodies…” He gestures to the hoodie you’re wearing, the one you “borrowed” weeks ago and never gave back. “I just figured we were, you know, a thing.”

You stare at him, your mind racing. “So… we’re dating?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious. “Unless you don’t want to be.”

“No, I do!” you say quickly, your voice louder than you intended. He laughs again, the sound warm and familiar, and before you can overthink it, he pulls you into a hug.

His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, and you bury your face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne. “Good,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair. “Because I’m kinda crazy about you.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your cheeks burning. “You are?”

“Yeah,” he says, his grin softening into something more sincere. “Have been for a while now.”

And just like that, the unspoken becomes spoken, the no-labels become labels, and you realise that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been his all along.

You’re curled up on Will’s sofa later that night, the board games long forgotten. His arm is slung over your shoulders, your head resting against his chest as some random movie plays in the background. You’re not really paying attention—your mind is still reeling from the conversation earlier, from the way he’d laughed and pulled you into a hug, from the way he’d said, “I’m kinda crazy about you.”

But there’s one thing that’s been nagging at you, one question you can’t seem to shake.

“Will?” you say, your voice soft.

“Yeah?” he replies, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair.

You hesitate, your heart pounding as you gather your courage. “If we’ve been dating this whole time… why haven’t we kissed yet?”

He stills, his fingers pausing in your hair, and for a moment, you’re terrified you’ve ruined the moment. But then he shifts, pulling back just enough to look at you. His expression is soft, almost hesitant, and he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognise.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he admits, his voice quiet. “I mean, we never really talked about it, and I didn’t want to assume… I guess I was waiting for you to be ready.”

You blink, surprised by his answer. “You were waiting for me?”

He nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah. I didn’t want to push you into anything. I figured you’d let me know when you were ready.”

The honesty in his voice takes your breath away, and for a moment, you’re speechless. You think about all the times you’ve wondered if he felt the same way, all the times you’ve hesitated, too scared to make the first move. And now, hearing him say this, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“I’m ready,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words feel like they echo through the room.

Will looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The air between you feels charged, electric, like the world has narrowed to just the two of you. His hand cups your cheek, his touch warm and gentle, and you can feel the faint tremor in his fingers.

“Good,” he says, his voice soft, almost reverent. “Because I’ve been waiting for this for a really long time.”

And then he leans in, slowly, giving you every chance to pull away if you want to. But you don’t. You can’t.

His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, like he’s testing the waters. It’s soft, sweet, and achingly gentle, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You lean into him, your hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

The kiss deepens, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His lips move against yours with a kind of certainty, like he’s been thinking about this moment just as much as you have.

And then, just as you’re melting into him, his fingers scratch lightly at the base of your scalp, the motion so subtle but so deliberate that it makes you gasp against his lips. It’s a move you’ve seen him do a hundred times—when he’s nervous, when he’s thinking, when he’s trying to play it cool—but this time, it’s different. This time, it’s for you.

The sensation sends a wave of warmth through you, your body responding instinctively as you press closer to him. His lips curve into a smile against yours, and you can feel the faint rumble of his laugh in his chest.

“You like that?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, his fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod, your cheeks burning as you bury your face in his shoulder. He laughs again, the sound warm and familiar, and you can feel the vibration of it against your skin.

The world outside fades away, the movie forgotten, the room silent except for the sound of your breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as you shift closer to him. His touch is warm, his kiss tender but insistent, like he’s trying to tell you something words could never capture.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, your breaths mingling in the space between you. His eyes are still closed, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, and you can feel the faint tremor in his hands as they rest on your waist.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his voice rough, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound soft and breathless.

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice just as unsteady. “Wow.”

He opens his eyes then, and the look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat. There’s something in his gaze—something soft and tender and utterly sincere—that takes your breath away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you say, your cheeks burning but your smile unstoppable.

He grins, that stupid, beautiful grin that makes your heart melt, and pulls you into another hug. His arms are warm and steady around you, and you bury your face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“Good,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair. “Because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

And just like that, the world feels brighter, warmer, like everything has finally fallen into place.

Ugh I hope people like this, Im giggling about the hair thing...😏

[just1cefor4ll]

A Light That Never Goes Out

Joost Klein x reader

summary: you and Joost are both competing in eurovision, you representing {your country} and Joost representing the Netherlands. When Joost gets disqualified you’re both devastated, but you decide to defend your dear partner once you get to the finals.

A/N: first joost klein fanfic, need your honest opinions :,) hope you enjoy tho💙 and dont be afraid to request something joost klein x reader, requests are currently open!

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Eurovision Song Contest

@Eurovision

We are currently investigating an incident involving the dutch artist. He will not be rehearsing until further notice.

Liked by joostsbeloved, eurovision.lover and 1,482,794 others

@joostswifeyy1 and 402K people commentsd

user210651: WHAT?? WTF HAPPENED

aikoswife: oo drama :0

lorelaixx: eurovision 2024 is so wild

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You looked at the post, shocked, disappointed.. angry? You didn’t know what emotions you were feeling but your first priority was currently Joost. The poor mans feelings and dreams were crushed, his cheerful and bright persona was now forced, and it was more dull than ever. You felt bad for your best friend, the one you started this whole journey with. You met wonderful people, made new memories, and all of it was now thrown away because Joost protected himself from unwanted media. It was unfair, it was quite literally pathetic how the EBU reacted. They shouldn’t be punishing Joost, yet here they were, not letting him rehearse. You walked to Joosts hotel room, things that you thought would cheer him up in hand. You knock softly on the door, loud enough so he could hear, waiting patiently outside the door.

Footsteps could be heard from behind the door a few seconds later the door got opened, revealing a very tired and not so happy looking Joost. He let you in, closing the door behind him as you set the stuff down. You walk over to him and open your arms for a hug, quickly getting tackled into a bear hug. “Mm..s’not fair..” He says, slurring his words as he started to sniffle softly. You pat his back, offering him some comforting words and assurances, trying to cheer him up as best as you could. “Shh.. It’s alright.. you don’t know how proud of you everyone is for coming this far.” He picks you up, walking to his bed and lays down with you, lying down on top of you. “I just failed everyone, I failed my people.” He says and you shush him, playing with his hair. “Hey! Listen to me now.” You say, lifting his head up so he would look at you. “You did not fail anyone. You have a whole community supporting you, so don’t you ever doubt yourself. You did nothing to harm someone, you’re a kind, lovely soul who people cherish.” You say, making him smile softly. He cupped your cheek and kissed you on the lips. It was short, but sweet making your stomach erupt with butterflies.

The next day felt grueling. You barely got up and got ready to go back to arena. You were excited to see all those familiar faces, but it felt forced since you now knew Joost wouldn’t be there by your side for all of it. You walked with Joost, hand in hand trying to talk about random topics like you usually did when you saw a hoard of fans. “We should get out of here.” You say, squeezing his hand. “Oh, but why?” He says, looking towards the crowd who was already standing in line to get in the Arena. Joost was always the social butterfly, you trying your best to not interact with crowds this big, not feeling safe since you didn’t really have a guard with you 24/7. You walk with him, letting him charm the crowd like usual all the fans going crazy. You took some pictures with the fans as well, signing things.. someone even asking you to draw a tattoo for them which you gladly did. Everyone was shouting things like ‘justice for Joost’ or ‘We love you Joost.’ Which warmed your heart knowing people support him, Joosts smile not going unnoticed by you. You walk with him inside the arena when some annoying interviewer had the nerve to comment about his disqualification, in a bad way. You had {your countries name} flag with you, which you used to cover him while you walked to the elevator. You mumble swears in your language, cussing the interviewer out like a mad person. Joost pulled you closer by the waist, planting a quick kiss to your forehead “Ik hou van jou.” (I love you)

After long exhausting hours, listening to the most talented people perform on stage, you go on after Bambie. An idea pops up in your head, smiling mischievously. Joost left already, watching from home since he thought it would be best if he wasn’t here when the incident was fresh. You walk on stage, about 20 or more people rapidly cleaning and getting the props and just everything ready for your performance. You waved at some fans and blew air kisses when the lights dimmed, which meant the cameras were now rolling and it was your time to shine. You pour your heart and passion for music out, the last words of the song slipping from your tongue and you finish it off with one last pose.

Everyone cheers for you, you suddenly take out the Netherlands flag, the words justice for Joost written in black paint on it. You wave it around and you hear cheering, of course some booing as well. You smile one last time before getting off stage, Bambie running up to you to give you a hug. Marina hugged you too, complimenting your performance before rushing on stage since it was her turn to go. “That’s gonna be everywhere babe, good luck.” Bambie says and you nod, joking about it with them. “Well shit, I don’t care if I get disqualified it needed to be said. I don’t even know how I managed to sneak that on stage haha.” You chat for a bit more before heading to a quieter place in the arena. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall as you open your messages to see Apson, and even Stuntje sending you videos. They knew about your little shenanigan and decided to record Joosts reaction.

They were all in Joosts hotel room, Joost cheerinf you on and singing along in your song. You chuckles softly as he mumbled some of the words since he didn’t really speak much of your language. When the song comes to an end he starts to cheer; “That’s my girl!” He screams, jumping up and down and clapping for you. “He’s definitely getting noise complaints.” You think to yourself, smiling at the screen. The TV shows you with the flag only for a few seconds since they tried to hide it as best as possible, but the ultimately failed since it was there for a good five seconds. Joost looked surprised, Apson cheering and Joost looks at him. “Wist u hiervan?” (did you know about this?) “Ja, Ja.” (yes, yes) He says and you see Apson smiling from Stuntjes point of view. The video gets cut off after a few more seconds, Joost visibly emotional so they most likely decided pointing a camera in his face wasn’t a good idea.

{‘My love’ in your language}

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Y/N

Y/N

Y/N

Whatshaiaidhsjja

you’re literally crazy but i still love u

is everything okay?

did they do anything to u?

ik hou zo veel van je schat 💙

sent 11:09pm

I’m alright love, see u soon ❤️

read 7 minutes ago

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You decided to watch the others perform, vibing with Bambie to songs and dance with them. After everyone finishes their song, you all go with your own team, the jury votes about to be announced. You blow an air kiss to Bambie and walk with your team, hyping everyone up. You didn’t expect to win, not after the stunt you pulled but you supported your friends to the very end. The final jury votes were given to Nemo by Sweden, you cheered for them since they really deserved the points. Their song was incredible and their vocals were angelic. You snap put of your thoughts, now the public would be able to vote. You would lie if you said you payed attention the whole time, zoning out almost every few minutes.

It was now between Croatia and Switzerland, your bet was on Nemo even though Croatia also did an amazing job. The atmosphere was tense, the silence being a bit more awkward than you liked, just hoping to get this all over with. You hear cheering, looking towards Nemo who looked like a beam of sunshine. You clapped, cheering your dear friend on and sing along to his performance.

It was done. Months of work and stress was finally over. You get a ride to your hotel with your team, scrolling through the hundreds of photos and videos from this wonderful experience. You saw a new place for the first time; Malmö which you were forever grateful for but you couldn’t wait to go back home to Amsterdam with Joost. Your movements were sluggish, your team laughing and joking about it. You chuckle along with them and wave goodbye to them as you all your separate ways to your hotel rooms. You on the other hand were walking to another room. You knock softly, the seconds feeling like hours when you don’t even register the door getting opened and get spinned around. You giggle like a 12 year old girl, Joost putting you down and kissing your soft lips. He closed the door behind him, walking with you to the bed slowly so you don’t fall since he refused to pull away from the kiss. He sits down with you and brings you into his lap. You finally pull away and he looks at you, love struck.

“When did you manage to get the flag you troublemaker?” He jokes and kisses your jaw, going down to your collar bone. “That my love, is a secret.” You say and he groans, lying down with you. “Doesn’t matter anymore.. You don’t know how much you made my day.” He says and peppers your face with kisses. You giggle softly, having to pull him away so he would stop. “Joost that tickles.” You say and he holds you tighter, burying his face in your hair. “You’re the light I needed in my life.”

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!! Do not copy or repost any of my posts on different platforms !!

[white-poppie]

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ⎯⎯⎯ s.gojo x fem!reader (part 3/3)

SYNOPSIS — Your life was a mausoleum of sickening memories until light found you again at the end of the bleak tunnel, peering through his big cerulean eyes. Spitfires vanishing till you found your everlasting effervescent flame. And that's how it ends, because you still have your youth.

💿 — Mia and Sebastian's theme from La-la land

TW —breastfeeding, pregnancy, post-partum, grief, loss, crying (obv), jealousy.

WC — 5k

Series masterlist Moon Child ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Now playing: Part 3

“Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.” He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remain.

The next few minutes go by Satoru holding you to his chest, silently as you sob. Now he’s sitting in the front seat of his car, the tinted windows drawn up as he regardless looks outside cautiously while you feed a hungry Tsukiko.

Satoru’s gaze falls to rear mirror, his eyes briefly catching your tender expression when you look at Tsuki as she stays latched to you and an inexplicable warmth erupts in his chest. He cranks up the AC silently, noticing you’re sweating a bit while feeding her.

You can’t help but smile as he turns up the AC, he notices these little things, the things Suguru should have been here for.

You sigh and lean on the headrest of the car, the smell of the faux leather making your head pound harder after crying. Tsuki suckles with soft whimpers, her face covered by your t-shirt. "It’s strange isn't it?" You murmur. "You are doing few of things Suguru was supposed to be doing for his daughter..."

He’s quiet for a long moment before he finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s his loss. He missed out.”

You look out of the window, tears pricking in your eyes yet again. Your eyes burn from crying, yet it seems as though gotten used to it, gotten yused to the uncomfortable warmth of excessive tears burning down your eyes.

You tell yourself you’ve gotten immune to heartbreak but image of Suguru tenderly holding Tsuki. His eyes filled with so much regret and pain like he would turn around everything if he could. It’s burned in your head. “I’m so tired, Satoru…” you whisper.

He’s quiet as he listens to you speak, his heart breaking as he hears the way your voice cracks again and how your words carry such a sense of exhaustion and pain, like you’ve been carrying burden that no one could understand. You’re not the same person that you were when you were just shy of seventeen. You’re not the same girl that he used to know at sixteen and he knows that better than anyone else..

"I feel so lost- I no longer know what I am working for. There is this anger that bubbles in me, This vile feeling of resentment towards everyone, everything...hell sometimes even towards Tsuki." You choke, "I feel so selfish for thinking all this when I have a sweet daughter. I hate myself that sometimes my mind conjures up this feeling of anger and blames this little girl who has no fault. I love her so much, but I can't help these sudden feelings."

His heart aches at the way you blame yourself, it all just feels so unfair. It feels…cruel. He can do nothing but sit here and listen to you talk it all out because you so clearly feel suffocated like you’re drowning.

"When he told me he was leaving the Jujutsu society. It felt as though my heart was being ripped apart, like I would stop breathing without him. I dug my nails into him. Clung to him that entire night. I got a call from Shoko in the morning when he had gone rogue and filled so many people. I wanted to rip my skin apart yet not wash the flesh he had touched" You sob viscerally, lowering your head in shame.

At times, it felt like you were living a bitter love song. Penelope unthreading the tapestry, grieving, loyal to gone Odysseus. Yet, ambivalent. Somedays, you unthread the tapestry, other days you beg Artemis to end it instead.

He can’t stop the feeling of pure agony bubbling in his chest, his throat dry. Your grief feels so real. So tangible. You’ve lost yourself to him. A part of you must have still been hoping he would come back, as foolish as that hope was. He reaches out to gently take your hand in his. “It’s okay…it’s not your fault.”

You gulp, wiping your tears with your trembling hands upon realising Tsukuba is done feeding, you fix your shirt, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. Her litttle features relaxed into a blissful expression after having her fill, her pouty pink lips making you smile despite your sorrows.

“Can I hold her?” Satoru asks suddenly hesitantly. The corners of his eyebrows upturned and furrowed almost adorably.

"You are asking as if you weren't the first one to hold her in the hospital." You croak out humourlessly and hand her to him and shift in the front seat beside him.

His face softens as a small smile spreads across his lips and he gives off a quiet breathy chuckle as he sees the way your shoulders soften and the small, weary smile that spreads across your face as you hand him the baby. His eyes are so gentle and loving as he carefully takes Tsuki and cradles her against his chest. The way he’s holding her, it’s so natural - as if he was born to be a father.

Your heart feels so heavy at the scene. Its supposed to be Suguru...Its supposed to be Suguru holding Tsukiko, not Satoru. But there's this swell of affection when you look at him cradle her. She's so loved...

"She looks so tiny against you." You whisper, The way they look like yin and yang makes your breath hitch. Tsuki with her black her and eyes and Satoru with his white hair and blue eyes. Suguru and Satoru—Yin and Yang—the strongest sorcerers.

His lips quirk up in a soft smile as he gently pulls Tsuki just a bit closer to his chest, his hand gently wrapping around the back of her head in a tender hold. “She really is a tiny little thing, isn’t she?” he whispers right back as he continues to softly stroke his hand across her back. “She’s so precious and fragile, like a baby bird.”

“”It’s both a blessing and a curse that she looks exactly like him.” You whisper looking at his strong arms hold the baby.

Satoru looks at you, her eyes softening with a mix of pity and affection for the child in his arms. “She really is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”

Your shoulders relax you take in a shaky breath, your head pounding like a those drums from from Physical education classes that banged rhythmically. Sighing you raise your legs up to your chest and lean the seat back.

The sight of you curled up in the passenger seat of his car, the car which, you’ve just about proclaimed as your property is so domestic to him that it hurts a little bit. “You’re tired,” he says softly as he continues to cradle Tsuki against his chest.

"Mhm." You nod as you look at him, eyes fluttering. "You should give her here or you won't be able to drive."

He lets out a sigh as he reaches over to gently buckle her into her baby carrier against you. His breath stutters as his fingers brush against your arms and he finds himself gazing into your eyes before gulping and drawing back.“She’s just so tiny and cute and precious, I just don’t want to let her go.” He mutters, his voice slightly deeper than intended.

You chuckle and carefully cradle her neck so she’s leaning against your chest "She's a very charming little girl." You press a kiss to her forehead.

He watches silently as your breaths even out in a semi- lucid state before he whisper to himself in response. “Just like her pretty mama.” He utters and starts to drive to your house.

The smell in the car is saccharine, your vanilla perfume, and the oddly sweet smell that comes from babies; combined with a heady mix of breast milk and baby products.

Tsukiko and you are settled and curled into his front seat as if you belong here. It's so natural. To think Satoru is being the haven Suguru could never be, he's picking up cracks of you shattered, broken heart; you don't know what to call it, but it feels right. Unclear, whether it’s pity or friendship that makes him care so much for the girl and the kid his best friend abandoned.

You arrive back at you place as he helps you out of the car. You look at Satoru with heavy eyes, "Come in, I'll make tea." you say with a tired smile.

Initially, he thinks of rejecting, yet seeing your swollen red eyes and that weary slouch of your shoulder blades; he surrenders.

The little apartment that's less of a home but a sanctuary, its a cute tapestry of memories. Baby products are neatly kept, such as cribs, baby toys, polaroids of the baby, plants, and, in progress, a crochet baby hat on the couch and adorable little trinkets around.

But to you, as night comes it becomes a glum, cold sanctuary for the most part-- filled with reminders of Suguru. Everywhere. His large shoes were on the front door, his coat was on the rack, his picture with me was on the fridge, and his cologne was on the dresser. Almost everything of his is untouched the way it was, despite everything, you don't have the strength to throw out his things the same way he threw you out of his life.

The more his gaze lingers, his mind immediately drifts to the last time he came here; when Suguru was in your life. The house reeks of his memories. The place doesn’t look like a home, it looks like a museum that’s dedicated to the relationship you had with Suguru, almost like a shrine. The longer he looks at it, the more his chest aches. When he speaks, it comes out as a barely audible whisper. “Y/N...”

"Hmm?" You mutter slowly, tucking Tsuki in her crib. You walk back into the kitchen, your house sandals dragging across the marble flooring.

“Can I just…hug you for a second?” he whispers.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, pausing midway while putting the pan on the stove. "Where did that come from?" You ask confused, but your voice softens immediately, turning into a whisper by the end of the sentence.

"I just…want to hug you right now.” he says in a tender, whispery voice. “You look like you need it.”

You gulp, keeping the pan down and wrapping your arms around him he leans down, his arms wrapping around your waist. A shaky breath leaves your throat at how warm he feels, your throat constricting and nose and cheeks feeling warmer. You close your eyes, a silent tear rolling down your cheek.

His arms slowly snake around your waist as he wraps you in, pulling you to his chest, cradling your soft, exhausted body and holding you against his larger, firm form. His eyes close as he feels you shaking in his arms, his embrace so tender that it hurts. “It’s okay,” he whispers softly to you. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Your chest aches at how comforting his embrace feels. You are suddenly reminded of the way Suguru used to hug you- but for the first time, I push the thought of Suguru away quickly. It’s Satoru in front of you, not Suguru.

"I’ve got you,” he murmurs right up against your ear. “I’ve got you.” He lifts his hand to brush his fingers across your hair, his fingers running across your scalp.

You feel my heart beat faster inexplicably as you raise your head up to look at him. “Satoru, I need your help.” You whisper out as you gulp, briefly closing your eyes.

“Help me…help throw his things away please, I don’t have the strength to do it alone. it’s so haunting." You choke, "I want to move on, I want get better, in a more stable mental place for Tsuki, and I can’t do that with these reminders of him everywhere…” You vent out in one breath.

“You really…want to throw away all of his things?” He asks, his voice a mix of hurt, and relief.

“No.” You reply immediately, “but what other way is there? I don’t want Tsuki to grow up with me being an emotional wreck over a man who abandoned us."

Your eyes fall over to the tiny toddler in the crib, unable to peel your eyes from the beautiful girl.

"I want to keep everything of his, to look at them and grieve for a man who’s alive. I want to keep that damn scarf of his, I don't have the strength to remove his picture from my wallpaper, and his pillow that I sprayed with his perfume and hugged to sleep during pregnancy because his smell calmed me during morning sickness. It’s pathetic I know…but how long am I going to hold on?” You choke up, tears rolling down my eyes.

He feels his breath hitch at your words. He slowly lowers his head to rest his forehead gently against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in slowly and trembles slightly as he gently pulls you into him, his breath trembling and catching in his throat again. “Oh, Y/N,” he whispers in a voice broken with emotion. “Oh sweetheart…”

For a second he wants to gather all of Suguru's things and keep them for himself on the other hand he wants to shatter everything. He's been like the same paradoxical situation as you, day in and day out. He's been a hypocrite. Telling you to move on when he could not get over his best friend. The only person he could ever confide in without being superficial, the only one who cared.

He's aching, just as much as you are. And he aches even more to see his first love so terribly broken apart by his best friend.

"I want us to heal, 'Toru." You mutter. "All of us: Me, you and Shoko. Of course the pain can never truly be gone, but we can't let our lives stagnant like this." You whisper, cupping his face in your palms, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare into his cerulean eyes.

He feels his heart skip several beats in his chest as he feels your soft, warm palms gently cupping his face, your eyes peering into his. He takes in a slow, shuddery breath and swallows again in an attempt to get rid of the aching feeling in his chest - the aching he feels for you.

His eyes glance over towards the crib, seeing the small infant that ties you to his best friend in the most undeniable way that he could never possibly compete, yet she draws him and you closer than ever. From the day he laid his eyes on her, he loved her.

He raises his hand slowly and gently rests it over one of the ones that are cupping his face, his fingers intertwining with yours. He holds your gaze for a long moment in silence, just trying to calm the thundering of his heart in his chest. He let his feelings sit in the backseat when you and Suguru started dating. It hurt, but the ache soon simmered and he accepted reality, he knew his feelings had never left and yet it didn't feel hard to think otherwise. Hell, he was ready to be Suguru's best man. He's finally letting himself be selfish.

"Toru," You breathe out shakily, unsure why you uttered his name like so. This feels like the precipice, the intermission of the movie of your life, right at the climax. These inexplicable feelings brewing in your heart are so heavy. You feel guilty, for letting yourself feel this way, for letting yourself move on-- to develop an affection beyond friendship for Suguru's best friend and your friend.

His heart skips a beat at the way you breathed out his name like so. It almost sounds like a plea, almost like a desperate beg. Toru. It never felt this good, never felt this right, for you to say his name like that. It's so good to hear the way his name sounds when it leaves your lips, your lips that he has never once touched.

His throat aches as he leans down and captures your lips against his own he's wanted this for so long. For so so long he's ached for you. Satoru knows its wrong, you're both vulnerable, but he feels like he would break and sob like a child if he doesn't embrace you. If he can't love you. Its physically impossible for him to control his affection anymore. His nose is red, eyes burning.

A gasp leaves you as you freeze, your fingers clenching into fists. You stand unable to react, frozen still. Your heart beats in a sickly rhythm at the confusion swirling in your chest.

He swallows thickly and instantly pulls back, his eyes wide as he looks into your shocked expression. He takes in a shuddery, shaky breath. He's a idiot, he's an absolute idiot. He knows you don't feel that way about him, knows you're still broken over Suguru, and yet he still kissed you.

"I-" You stutter, your heart shattering at his slightly red eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry..." You breathe out, unable to utter anything else. You want to pull him in again, to kiss him with the same tenderness. His glassy eyes make you sick, but you are not sure you can do this to him, not when you are so conflicted about your feelings...he deserves better than that.

He shakes his head adamantly, his hands trembling slightly as he gently reaches up to place them on your shoulders to keep you at a distance. He doesn’t want your pity. He can’t take your pity.

"You don’t—" Satoru whispers shakily, his eyes still burning. "You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Please, don’t pity me because I feel this way for you."  

"I don't-- I don't pity you 'Toru, not a bit. But you are not a replacement, I never want you to feel like that. I am- there is so much to heal in my heart, I don't think I can love anymore. I am so damn scared after all that I went through." You breathe out reaching to him hesitantly. "You deserve better than whatever mess I am right now."

His heart shatters even more as he feels the way that you demean yourself so harshly - you have no idea how much you're worth. You have no idea how many times he's had to restrain himself from kissing you, holding you, loving you - so many times he's had to tell himself that he has no right to try and love someone that's not his. But his heart is a fragile, weak thing in the face of your sorrow.

"Your daughter needs you," he whispers, his voice cracking a bit. "You're amazing.

“Would you give me time to heal Toru? For myself? For Tsuki? Maybe even for us.” You whisper with a soft voice. “I want to reclaim myself, I’ve lost that ambitious girl somewhere, I want to get her back before I can ever try to find love again.”

.

6 months pass by in a blink of an eye, wasn't she born yesterday? Tsuki's already 8 months old, its a bittersweet feeling. Yet somehow when you think of the times your blood used to run cold when someone mentioned Suguru when you trying to heal; it reminds you how long the year really was.

Those six months were a lifetime for you and Satoru too. He was there all along, for you and Tsuki. He watched you grow and change - every day, every moment, he witnessed the way you healed and slowly came back to yourself. And with each day that passed, the more that he found himself completely and hopelessly in love with you.   

You smile, wrapping the scarf around Tsuki as she sits in her stroller, wide-eyed, observing her mama dressed up differently. A red, velvet a line dress. It feel so weird to wear old clothes again, like watching yourself in your middle school yearbook pictures, cringing at how you looked, but feeling warm as you remember how truly happy you were.

You gulp, fixing your hair for the nth time, waiting for Satoru to pick you. You roam nervously in the apartment, wound like a spinning top and you jump when the bell rings.

You quickly walk up to the door, there he stands in his glory, in a tailored Italian suit, an Armani watch, his fluffy white hair parted at the side with a bouquet of peonies in his nimble hands.

And he freezes just as you do, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing up and down trying ti muster, suave words of praise, but nothing leaves his starstruck self.

“You look so handsome, Toru.” You say fondly.

He slowly holds out the bouquet of peonies for you as his eyes scan over you again. His voice feels weak, barely a whisper as he speaks to you. "Look who's talking."

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You say taking a sniff of the fragrant flowers. Your heart feels warm, despite the chill in the air; warm toasted bread with sweet milk tea in the sheets, an odd sense of euphoric comforting.

"Just beautiful things for a beautiful woman."  He says, finally with his flirtatious grin which causes you to roll your eyes.

You chuckle and look over at Tsuki. “Let’s wait for Shoko” It’s the first time she’d be away from you, she’s too small, too tiny, it makes you anxious for her to be anywhere except in front of your eyes. This is the first time you've ever been apart from the infant who's been attached to your hip since she was born.

"Shoko's a doctor, she'll take good care of her. It's just for a few hours, sweetheart."  He says, interrupting your thoughts.

Soon enough, the bell rings, and the tired woman makes her way in. You go over the same things, same scenarios multiple times until you feel relieved and Shoko on the other hand, exasperated.

"And for the love of god don't smoke around her," you say and finally hug her. "Thank you for doing this Shoko."

Shoko freezes as you suddenly hug her; for a moment, she feels as though her eyes are getting bleary after seeing you smile so brightly after so long. "All good..." She murmurs, unknowingly tightening her grip around you.

"Let's go," you whisper to Satoru, holding out your hand. For a few seconds, he just stands still, unable to form a coherent emotion at the sight of your hand extended to reach his. Gulping he intertwines his large fingers into your palm. the path to his car feels sacred, intimate; he feels as though he's holding you as you walk down the aisle to him. It's an exaggerated, delusional reverie that makes his chest all tight.

The ride towards the restaurant is mostly silent, with you looking out the window and watching as the world passes by like a blur. Satoru steals a few quick glances at you every now and then as he drives, feeling the familiar ache in his chest everytime he looks at you in your beautiful, beautiful red dress.

"You look beautiful, you know that?" He whispers, his voice hushed almost as if he's afraid if he speaks too loudly, the moment will be shattered.  

Your eyes soften at his reverential tone, you tilt my head, staring at him. "You've told," you answer. "But I like hearing you say it."

"I'll say it till you get sick of it," he says with a soft chuckle, his bright cerulean eyes undoing all defenses, all inhibitions. They shine so bright, like stars.

"I don't think I can ever get sick of it," You whisper. It's peaceful, you realise. Not the wild, passionate sort of love you experienced with Suguru, where the flame was brightest before it blew. But this feels like a soft light, whispering in the dark, ebbing the strongest shadows away. It draws you in like a moth to flame. This tender light ignites my very being from the dull, colourless life you were trapped in. You never realised that what you wanted was warmth; you hunted it in a spitfire, but found it in an everlasting flame.

His heart skips a beat at your soft, but honest words. The car slows down as the light turns red, and he takes the opportunity to take a good a long look at you. You are sirenesque, it takes his breath away. He finds himself leaning closer, red lights of the signal reflecting off his face. The soft jazz he put to sound fancy is all static under your gaze. He is all static under your gaze.

Both of you flinch as a car behind you honks, pulling the two of you out of your reverie. You realise the light has already turned green and clear you throat.

He lets out a soft sound before he starts driving again, looking ahead at the road to distract himself from the way his heart still pounds in his chest.

The restaurant comes into view as he parks the car with a sigh. 

You smile as he helps you out of the car. It's a fancy restaurant, the kind you'd see in old Hollywood movies where the main characters take the heroine and a cute song starts playing. You wait for your orders, and there's an awkward silence; neither of you speak for a while. A mix of embarrassment and nervousness blended in with being clueless about what to talk about.

"So...I was thinking," he begins, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he fiddles with his fingers. There is a moment of hesitation as he looks up at you for a second, his heart skipping a beat at your calm expression. He gulps and decides to say it, his words leaving him in a low murmur - barely above a whisper. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?" You question your eyes fluttering in confusion as you look around and then back at him as if to question, 'here?'

He nods as his nervousness melts away into a small, genuine, bashful smile as he stands up and gently extends his hand towards you from across the table. "Yeah...dance." He mutter, his heart feeling a bit lighter at your innocent question.

He looks at the small dance floor in the restaurant, not even a whole dozen couples dancing on it. "Just one song." 

"Alright, until the food comes in." You smile tenderly and take his hand as the two of you walk to the small wooden flooring. You look up at him as he wraps his hand on your waist, another interlacing with yours. And the song plays, ironically enough, Mia and Sebastian's theme from Lalaland, and you roll your eyes. it's a fancy restaurant; they should at least play jazz or something. Nonetheless, you sigh and just look into his cerulean eyes, and your heart pounds in your ribcage.

He can't stop the way that a small chuckle leaves him at your eye roll. He is in utter bliss in this moment, being so much closer, so much more intimate than he'd been with you in ages: everything around them feels so surreal.

You two dance at first, for a few minutes, a sophisticated pair dance before the two of you just sway, eyes peering intently into each other. The light is dull, dim, centered just at the floor, but nothing shines brighter than his hopeful, loving eyes, and you can't help but feel like you are melting as he holds you in, swaying to the music.

He holds onto you as tightly as he can, his eyes never leaving yours, his breaths growing more labored with each passing second. He can't help but be utterly enamored by you. He can just barely hear his own voice over the sound of his own rapidly beating heart. "I love you." 

Your eyebrows furrow at his admission again, and you can't help but huff out a fond chuckle. He's so sincere, despite all, despite how torn you were, despite how you had hurt everyone, including yourself. He's been there. He's been there and made you realise you don't have to beg for someone's love. It's not transactional as it was with Suguru. "I've made you wait for so long, haven't I?" You whisper, your eyes a little bleary looking at him.

The corners of his eyes crinkle with your huffed chuckle. He smiles softly as you speak, his hand on your waist gently caressing your body lovingly. He smiles and reaches his hand up to caress your soft cheek, gently stroking your skin with the rough pads of his fingers.

"Forever." He mutters, his own eyes slightly glossing over as he looks at you. "You could've made me wait forever, and I still would've waited."

You wrap your arms tighter around him and lean up to kiss him, eyes fluttering close. He tastes like mint; its sweet, and it soothes you so. You let out a shaky breath, and he leans in and kisses you tenderly at first, but then with an adolescent vigour that has you dipping in his arms.

You can't help but giggle at his excitement, somehow, the sound gets him to tone it down, tender and soft, his fingers shaky. You part away to breathe and chuckle fondly. "You've got lipstick on your lips." You shake your head and wipe his lips clean.

"We still have a dance to finish," You say as I keep your hand back on his shoulder, and start to sway, laughing as he spins you around

Outside the restaurant after a late night tussle of the girls begging for icecream and him giving in, Suguru walks with Nanako and Mimiko. Their little hands holding the ice cream he brought, trying to not make it drip.

"Geto-sama, isn't she the woman in the photo frame?" Mimiko points out cluelessly to through the glass to you and Satoru dancing. A woman she's only ever seen through the photo frame he keeps close to him, fondly smiling at the,mystery woman that the twins love to inquire about.

"Hmm...?"

Suguru looks towards the glass, and it takes a few seconds for him to process what he sees. He sighs. It's hard to breathe, but you look so radiant it's like life is back in you. It's so different from when he last saw you six months ago in the grocery store. You looked like your world was crumbling down; you were tired, depressed and alone with his daughter you gave birth to. "Yeah." He says with a smile, his voice heavy.

"That's her."

He keeps looking at you, his smile still on his face as he stares at the sight of the two of you on the dance floor. He can't explain the feeling he has in his heart: hollow and heavy, a feeling of losing something he had and messed up so terribly. The feeling of watching you fall in love with someone else, while he still is in love with you. 

But this is different. He looks at your smiling face now, and all he can feel is a strange sense of peace. His chest feels tight, an inexplicable pang of nostalgia and loss as he watches you dance with his best friend, but the pain he feels in his chest is replaced with a strange sense of acceptance.

It feels nostalgic, you're dancing with Satoru the way you used to with him, old jazz music playing as you stood on his feet and he swayed you around, sneaking kisses on your soft lips, your arms wrapped around him. But just as he remembers these memories, he is reminded of what become of your relationship.

It hurts like crazy but still doesn't compare to the soul-crushing guilt he felt when he saw your in the grocery store with Tsukiko, the baby of his love that he left unknowingly and despite knowing her existence, he was far too gone to step up. All he can remember is the utter agony you held in your eyes when you stood with that little infant so tired, so terrified. He made you go through hell.

The two of you finally stop with the dance. You glance away for a second and freeze as your eyes fall onto Suguru. Your lips part, feeling these conflicting, wretched emotions of anger and bitterness.

He is stoic before he breaks into a smile, a content, tired smile. The smile you give to someone, a goodbye, a good-luck, a smile of nostalgia and well-wish.

You breathe out as if you feel a burden off you existence, your lips twitching up to a smile too.

He looks at you and then glances at the girls, and something in him just wants to approach and hug you so tightly, ask for forgiveness and stay like this, all of you together again.

And yet, when your lips twitch into a smile at him, he smiles back, lifting up his hand to wave softly before walking away.

Life didn't end when he left, though it seemed like it would. Sometimes, we find escapes closest to us, but grief makes us blind. Satoru and Shoko were there to help, but drowning in the agony of loss you didn't find the strength to reach. The point is, no one can help you, unless you want to help yourself.

And once its over, one day you'll find yourself at crossroads with your past again. And its then you'll have courage to look it in the eye and smile, because that's how it goes:

Aches of present become memories of past:

a testament of Our Youth.

[harrywavycurly]

Not in the Same Way Part 2: Like You Mean It

Part 1: Here

CW: None this is fluffy goodness because it’s what Harry deserves✨

Summary: You’re Harry’s plus one to a wedding for a couple he doesn’t even know and things take a turn that results in some feelings getting revealed✨

“Is it normal for guests to be showing more skin than the bride?” Harry doesn’t pay any attention to the teasing tone of your voice, he’s far too busy watching the way your eyes are slowly traveling down his exposed chest and he quirks an eyebrow when they pause right at where his butterfly tattoo starts. “Like really Harry it’s a wedding not a night out with the boys.” The corners of his mouth rise up in a smirk as you bring your hands up and button two of the buttons on his shirt making the top of the butterfly disappear under the light blue fabric.

“It’s an evening wedding.” You don’t even acknowledge his poor excuse for how he’s dressed as you allow yourself to finish your once over of his outfit. When he sees your eyes begin to lower towards his choice of belt he feels his cheeks get a bit hot as he runs a hand through his hair, all of a sudden feeling very aware of just how close you are to him and where exactly your eyes are on his body. It’s not like he hasn’t asked you for opinions on his outfits before but something about the way you’re looking at him now feels different but he’s not quite sure why.

“You’re so handsome it’s almost unfair.” You say with a sigh as you take a small step forward so you can smooth out the collar of his black suit jacket. “You trying to break some hearts tonight Styles?” You ask with a playful smile making Harry let out a scoff as he looks down at you with a certain glimmer in his bright eyes that has you raising a brow at him.

“I don’t think I’ll be the one breaking hearts tonight love.” You roll your eyes but Harry sees the way your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you shake your head and take a step away from him. “You look absolutely stunning like really that dress-”

“Oh stop with the dramatics I’ve worn this dress a hundred times before.” You cut him off with a laugh as you run a hand over your dress that’s a similar shade of blue as Harry’s dress shirt.

“And every single time I say the same thing don’t I?” Harry asks as he holds out his hand for you to take so he can lead the two of you inside the venue for the ceremony now that you’ve deemed his outfit appropriate after fixing a few buttons.

“Yes but that’s because you’re my bestfriend and don’t want to hurt my feelings and say I look hideous.”

“I don’t think you could look hideous even if you tried and that’s coming from someone who’s seen you sick and hungover.”

“Who are these people again? Am I supposed to know anyone here?” Harry smiles to himself at your not so subtle subject change as you lean into him a bit as the two of you make your way towards the sitting area for the ceremony.

“Honestly I’m not sure-”

“You brought us to a wedding of people you don’t know?”

“Jeff knows them and I met them a few times. I think their names are Jessica and Mark?”

“You think? Harry you don’t even know their names?” Your voice is just above a whisper as the two of you find a pair of seats towards the back. Harry is quick to place an arm on the back of your chair as you sit down so he can pull you a little closer allowing him to lean over and whisper in your ear.

“Think of it like being invited to a party of a friend of a friend.” He explains and you roll your eyes making him chuckle as you place a hand on his knee while he moves his arm from behind you so he can reach over to the empty seat next to him and grab what looks to be a program that lists the events of the evening on it.

You take the opportunity of him being distracted and jab your nails into his knee making Harry let out a painful sounding squeak as he jolts forward and places one of his ring clad hands on top of yours that’s on his knee and currently sending shockwaves of pain down his left leg. You quickly turn in your seat so you’re leaning towards him and remove your hand from his knee and bring it to rest on his back, giving it a few soothing rubs mostly for show as you look at the people sitting behind you who are staring at Harry with slight looks of concern on their faces due to his sudden outburst.

“Foot cramp.” You explain softly while still running your hand up and down Harry’s back. They just nod in understanding and give you a sympathetic smile before going back to talking amongst themselves. Harry leans back in his chair with a sigh as his hand remains on his knee, blocking you from any future attacks.

“I don’t think that was necessary.” He whispers as he turns his head towards you as your hand runs up his back until it lands on the back of his neck.

“I think it was because you know how I feel about showing up to things not knowing anyone.” Harry just nods as you begin to rub at the back of his neck. “Now let’s see who’s getting married.” Harry holds the wedding program up and you have to hold back your laugh as you read the names written in a big loopy font on front of the program.

“So I might’ve been wrong about their names being Jessica and Mark.”

“I’d say so because that says we are the wedding of two people named Keith and Gabby.” Harry laughs as your hand moves from the back of his neck over to his shoulder.

“If it makes you feel better I don’t think I’ve ever met them before.” He admits with a shrug making you roll your eyes as you turn to face the front of the room that’s slowly starting to fill up with other guests.

“Why would that make me feel better?” You ask as you bring your hands into your lap, Harry looks over at you and smiles as he reaches over and grabs one of your hands.

“Because now you’re not the only one who doesn’t know anyone here.” You look at him and can’t help but return his smile as he gives your hand a nice reassuring squeeze.

Harry has a grin on his face as he watches the extremely entertaining scene unfold just a few tables away from him. You have a very well practiced fake smile on your face as you rest your elbow on the table and place your chin in your palm while looking as if you’re actively listening to the woman a few seats away from you go on and on about something Harry can tell even from across the room that you have absolutely no interest in. He watches your eyebrows raise as the woman leans in closer and tries to whisper something to you that makes you sit up and place a hand on your chest in mock surprise as you giggle at whatever semi scandalous thing the woman just told you. But even though he knows you would much rather not be engaging in small talk with people you haven’t ever met before at a wedding reception for a couple you don’t know, he can tell by the slight brightness to your eyes that you’re enjoying yourself.

You look up when you feel someone staring and your shoulders instantly relax when you find Harry’s deep green eyes looking into yours from across the room at the bar. He gives you a playful wink before he turns his attention towards the bartender so he can order a drink for you and himself, you feel your cheeks get warm and have to brush it off at him being his usual flirty self. A few moments later you see a very familiar hand with a small cross tattoo between the thumb and index finger place a glass of wine down in front of you.

“Did you miss me?” Harry’s voice is low in your ear as he leans down and places a little kiss to your cheek before taking his seat next to you at the table.

“Oh did you leave? I didn’t notice.” You tease as you reach for your wine glass while Harry rolls his eyes and places an arm on the back of your chair as he looks around the reception space. He notices some people beginning to head to the dance floor that’s got twinkling lights and a few disco balls hanging above it making the floor light up in mixture of swirling shapes.

“What did you think of the ceremony?” Harry turns his attention back to you as you lean back into your chair and turn so you can face him.

“I thought it was really nice.” He answers with a smile as you take a sip of your wine before putting the glass back on the table.

“The vows nearly got me.” You admit with a soft sigh as you think back to the sweet words the couple exchanged to one another. Harry looks at you as he lifts his arm from the back of the chair so he can gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear that’s managed to slip out of your loose updo. “Do you think you’ll ever get married?” You question as you place a hand over Harry’s that’s resting on the table and begin to mess with the ring on his index finger.

“I do yeah.” What he wants to say is that he’s let himself imagine what it would be like to be married to you at least once or twice after a few too many drinks or while the two of you are cuddled up during a movie night, because ever since you kissed him almost a year ago on New Year’s Eve he hasn’t been able to see himself being with anyone else. But he doesn’t, he just lets you play with his rings and give him a smile at his more simple answer.

“What about me?” Your voice is lower than it was before and Harry knows exactly why you’re asking him this question. Your breakup with your cheating ex boyfriend Kyle even though it was months ago has left you feeling as if you’re not worth the effort to keep around long term, so the idea of finding someone who not only loves you but wants to marry you just seems highly unlikely. “Do you think someone will ever want to marry me?” Harry doesn’t let more than a few seconds go by before he’s nodding his head and smiling at you.

“Why would you ask such a silly question like that?” He turns the hand that you’re messing with so his palm is facing upward allowing him to interlock his fingers with yours. “Of course you’re going to get married one day.” You smile as you feel Harry give your hand a squeeze before he brings it up so he can place a kiss to the tops of your knuckles. “You’re going to marry someone that makes you happy and is so in love and obsessed with you and it’ll be the best day of your life.” He tries his best to not think about the possibility of you ending up with someone else but at the same time he knows he won’t have a choice if he doesn’t ever let you in on how he’s feeling.

“Obsessed with me? I don’t know-”

“May I say something really quick?” You and Harry both turn your heads to look at the woman who’s sitting a few seats away, the same one you were talking to earlier while Harry was in line for the bar. She gives you a warm smile as she leans over the table and you catch her glance over at Harry before looking back at you. “The two of you are such a beautiful couple.” You just give her a grin as you lean your shoulder into Harry’s.

“Thank you that’s so sweet of you to say.” Harry feels his cheeks get warm as you choose not to correct her and just let her think the two of you are more than a pair of bestfriends who are attending a wedding for a couple they’ve never met before.

“You’re welcome. Maybe one day I’ll snag me a man that looks at me the way he looks at you.” She says with a laugh while you quirk a brow as you tilt your head so you can look at Harry who is already staring at you and you watch Harry’s mouth open as if he’s going to say something but then he closes it and looks away as he clears his throat. “Seriously he is so in-”

“Harry? You actually came?” The two of you are taken out of your little bubble as soon as you hear Harry’s name being shouted from behind a few feet away. You let go of Harry’s hand as you turn your body in your seat so you can see who it is that’s noticed him and you feel your eyes go wide as the bride makes a straight line towards the table with a big grin on her face and her arms spread out as if she’s expecting a hug.

“Shit what’s her name again?”

“Gabby her name is Gabby.” You whisper to him before he makes a move to get up from his seat so he can greet the bride that apparently knows him. You watch in amusement as Harry turns so he’s facing her and gives her one of his signature dimpled grins just before she engulfs him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came this is so sweet of you.” You hear her tell him as they pull away from each other. Harry lets out a nervous chuckle as he runs a hand through his long hair.

“Of course I was going to come it’s your wedding l uh-wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You rub your lips together to hold in your giggle as you reach for your wine glass and just as you’re about to take a sip you feel a hand tap the top of your shoulder. “This is my-”

“Oh my god shut up you brought your girlfriend? And you’re matching? That is so cute I love it.” Harry doesn’t know what to say as you stand up and turn to give the bride a smile which she returns before pulling you into a hug of your own. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” You thank your lucky stars your wine of choice is white as her quick embrace causes the liquid to slosh around in your glass almost making some spill down the sides.

“It’s so lovely to meet you as well the ceremony was just-so so beautiful it had Harry in tears.” You inform her making her smile somehow go even wider as she looks at Harry and brings both hands up to her chest.

“Oh you’ve always been such a sap.” Harry just shrugs because she’s not wrong, even if he doesn’t know who she is the fact remains the same that he has and probably always will be a sap when it comes to all things love. “Well I’ve got to go mingle and find my husband but it was so good seeing you Harry and it was wonderful to meet you! Enjoy yourselves and don’t forget there’s cake!” The two of you watch her turn and head off in the opposite direction making Harry instantly let out a massive sigh of relief that he survived the encounter without much damage done.

“So,” you turn so you’re fully facing Harry, a playful smirk on your face. “Who is this girlfriend Gabby’s heard so much about?” You try not to let the thought of Harry talking to someone about another girl get to you, so you do your best to try to play it off as a teasing sort of question instead of one with an undertone of jealousy.

“I have no clue since I swear I’ve never met that woman before in my life.” Harry answers as his eyes are still on the back of the bride as she says her hellos to a few people on her way to the table her husband is at. “Maybe she has me confused with another Harry?” He says in his defense as he finally turns so he’s looking at you, he can see the way you’re holding back a laugh as you purse your lips at him while slowly nodding your head.

“Right because you’re just so easy to mix up with someone else.”

“Harry is a very common name.”

“You’re Harry fucking Styles that’s not common at all and look at you!”

“What? I look like a normal-”

“Oh come on there’s nothing normal about those big dumb green eyes and that jawline oh and the hair? The tattoos?”

“What about my hair and tattoos?” You want to smack the silly smirk off Harry’s face as he runs a hand through his hair while your eyes narrow into a slight glare.

“There’s just no way she’s getting you mixed up with someone else.” Harry lets out a chuckle as he shrugs while you take a sip of your wine. “So just tell me Harry who’s the girl? I mean I’m your bestfriend so I’m a little upset I haven’t even heard-”

“It’s you.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them and you feel your heart feel as if it’s about to beat out of your chest as Harry just looks at you and lets out a sigh. “It’s always been you.” He adds as he reaches out and gently takes the wine glass from your hand so he can place it on the table.

“What-what do you mean?” Your voice is shaky as you watch him take a small step towards you.

“I talk about you so much people think you’re more than just my bestfriend and I don’t-I don’t always correct them.” Harry searches your face for any signs of discomfort at his admission, but when all you do is give him a small smile he feels a wave of relief wash over him.

“Why don’t you correct them?”

“Because I like the idea of people thinking we’re together.”

“Are you-” Your words get stuck in your throat as someone walks up from behind Harry and places both of their hands on his shoulders giving him a playful shake.

“Harry man how are you?” Harry’s eyes go wide as the man’s voice hits his ears and a smile takes over his face as he turns so he’s facing the stranger.

“No fucking way.” You smile as Harry’s face is one of pure shock and surprise as he wraps his arms around the man who is quick to return the gesture. “Gavin what the hell are you doing here?” He asks as he pulls away while you turn and quietly slide back into your seat.

“You know me I can’t pass up free booze and shitty food.” Gavin jokes making Harry laugh as he tosses an arm over his shoulders. “I went to school with Keith but come on-let’s get a drink and you can fill me in on what it’s like to be a hot pop star.” He says with a playful wink making Harry roll his eyes before he turns his head to look at you and you just give him a smile and an encouraging nod, happy to let Harry go off and catch up with an old friend since you find yourself needing a moment alone to gather your thoughts.

“Well you know it’s actually harder than it looks-the hair alone is a full time job.” Gavin’s laugh is the last thing you hear before the two men are heading off towards the bar. You let out a long sigh as you reach for your glass and take a big sip hoping the wine will help calm your sudden nerves.

You find yourself smiling as you stand near the edge of the dance floor watching couples sway back and forth to the beat of the slow love song playing softly over the speakers. Your nerves from earlier forgotten about since Harry invited his friend Gavin to take an empty seat at your table leading to lots of laughs and stories of Harry from his younger days before you knew him shared over dinner and a few more drinks. You’re taken out of your daze of people watching when you feel a hand on your hip and suddenly a plate holding a piece of cake is held in front of you.

“Oh I could just kiss you this makes me so happy.” You say with a smile as you take the plate from Harry’s hand. You feel the hold on your hip tighten as Harry leans down so his lips are right next to your ear.

“You can if you want.” His voice is low and you can’t help but feel your cheeks get hot as he places a kiss to the top of your shoulder.

“Wouldn’t be the first time would it?” Your voice is soft as you speak just barely above a whisper almost as if you don’t want to risk ruining the moment by being too loud. Harry’s heartbeat quickens as he lifts his head so you can turn around and face him, with the plate still in your hands.

“The New Year’s Eve kiss doesn’t count because you didn’t meant it.”

“Excuse me? It so counts because when I kissed you that night I figured you’d get the hint about how I felt and say or do something but you-you never did and so if anyone didn’t mean it that night it was you and-”

“What are you talking about? You never told me how you felt?”

“Well not with words but Harry I grabbed your face and kissed you in a very unfriend like way so I thought that was enough but then you didn’t say anything so I had to play it off as just a good luck new years kiss to save myself from dying of embarrassment.” Harry feels like an idiot as you explain yourself but then it hits him exactly what you’re telling him and before you can say anything he’s taking the plate from your hands and putting it on the nearest table making your lips poke out into a pout.

“I didn’t even get to try it.” You whine making Harry playfully roll his eyes as he brings his hands up to cup the sides of your face. You look up at him while your hands rest on his chest as he moves in closer to you.

“I’ll get you another piece I just want to do something first.” You watch him lean down and you scrunch your nose a bit when you feel him place a kiss to the tip of it, you close your eyes when you feel his lips press against yours making your hands grip his dress shirt to pull him down closer to you to deepen the kiss.

“I love you.” Harry mumbles once the two of you pull away, he doesn’t open his eyes as he gently rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too Harry.” He’s heard you say those exact words a thousand times before but something about how they sound in this very moment has his eyes opening as one of his hands slides from your cheek down to the side of your neck as he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes. “Now kiss me like you mean it or else I’m leaving to get more cake.”

“I’ll kiss you however you want if you just say it one more time?” You smile as your hands go from gripping Harry’s shirt to the back of his neck, allowing you to pull him down closer to you just a bit. “Please baby I just-”

“I love you Harry.” You say it again cutting him off before you press your lips against his in a kiss. One of your hands is in his hair while the other grips onto his dress shirt in an attempt to keep him exactly where you want him while Harry drops his hand from cupping your cheek down to your hip and slides it towards your lower back so he can bring your body closer to him. Harry is all smiles when you slowly pull away after a few moments so you can catch your breath.

“So now what?” He asks as his thumb rubs at the soft material of your dress on your lower back. You return his smile as you remove your hand from his hair and mess with one of the buttons you fixed for him earlier on his shirt, deciding that maybe it’s okay if he shows off a bit more chest now.

“Cake and maybe a spin on the dance floor?”

“Okay but I meant-” A few quick pecks to his lips makes his thoughts turn to mush as you just smile up at him while reaching up and placing a hand on the side of his face.

“You love me don’t you?” He just nods making you laugh as you gently give the side of his face a little pat. “Perfect so let’s go get some cake.”

“What is it with you and cake?”

“It’s a wedding Harry the cake is important and it’s got rainbow sprinkles in it.” You explain as Harry leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before his hand drops from the side of your neck so he can grab your hand.

“Rainbow sprinkles? That changes everything then.” His sarcastic tone earns him a playful smack to the chest as he leads you the table he grabbed your plate from, that sadly someone took while the two of you were preoccupied.

“Just for that I’m not sharing.” Harry laughs as you give him a stern look because you know how he is, he’s not going to want any in the moment but as soon as you sit down to eat it he’s suddenly going to want to try it and end up eating half of it.

“I love you.” Your lips curl into a smile as the words fall from his lips and you feel him give your hand that’s in his a nice squeeze.

“I love you too.” Harry has a grin on his face as you say the words back to him because he knows that from now on every time you say it, you mean it the exact same way he does.

[melodtreads]

What are you stressed about? ~ PICK A PILE

Welcome to my once in a decade tarot pile reading. Choose a pile

PILE 1

There is a change, an opportunity coming into your life that you are stressing about. For some of you, this change includes having to move abroad, or the moving is the change itself. The stress level comes from the fact that this is something that you deeply want. You have wished and waited for this opportunity for so long. You have worked and invested in this moment, knowing that is something that you are meant to do. Despite everything, you worry about not being good enough for it. You made this situation seem so grand and so out of reach, that now, when it is finally here, it feels unbelievable. It is here in your hands, at your level and you still question yourself. Stop questioning and go for it. It is here for you because you deserve it. It is here because you have worked and waited for it. You are allowed to let good things happen to you. Embrace the change, move forward, take what you know, and be ready to learn the uknown.

PILE 2

You are stressed about the friendship environment that surrounds you. You have been around these people for years now. You have done everything to fit in or be good enough for them. But no matter what they do, they don’t accept the real you. They may accept a fake personality that you put on, but it drains you out, and the mask can’t stay forever on. You are judged again every time it slips. On the same side, they never take you seriously, your words don’t mean anything to them. If you are questioning about what you should do, this is an easy leave. These are not the only people in the world. There are so many people out there ready to love you for who you are. Don’t be afraid to make the first step towards them. There is nothing but familiarity that is keeping you with your current friends. However, there is a better type of comfort than familiarity. It is called security and understanding. Don’t be afraid of puting yourself first.

For some people choosing this pile, it may not be that deep. You are probably working ona group project where it feels like you do all the work and it is draining you out. You are already dreaming about all the new things you can do after you finish this project, or going back to working with your usual partners. Keep it up just a little, this thing will soon finish and you can go back to your usual routine.

PILE 3

You are stressed about whether you should keep up what you are doing. This is something you have really put your effort into, consequently you expect to get result for all the work you have done. However, you keep waiting and the rewards are still not coming You go and put even more effort, and still, no results. It is to a point where you think that it is unfair towards you. But this is the thing for you, this situation of yours is not one where you can work smarter rather than harder; you can’t go and take the easy route just because it is available. If you really want the rewards that you think you deserve, you need to do everything step by step. You have to show that you are eager to work for want you want. You have to prove that this is not some superficial thing for you. Of course you can give up any day. It is you making the decision after all. But know, that if you really want it and you think you deserve it, you need to prove it.

PILE 4

You are stressed by a sudden and unexpected change in your life. This is a thing that really stresses the shit out of you, considering your stable personality. You are someone who likes to have things under control and be aware about everything that is happening around, so this situation really took a toll on you. And I don’t think it is the usual stressed for you, it seems liked your world has been turned upside down and everything is ruining around you. I am here to tell you that it is okay. Breathe. This is the universe telling you that you are part of nature and there is nothing predictable when it comes to nature. All those mountains that you are stressed about are just hills if you learn how to let go of control. I would advise having someone to look up to and give you guidance during this period. Trust their advice and trust yourself.

PILE 5

You are stressed about growing up, either physically or as a person. You have so much potential in you, you can become greater and greater, but you are scared of it. You have your little habits, your usual place, and all the people you know that you are used to. You are scared to leave them all behind. You are scared of venturing into the uknown. It looks like this big thing that you don’t believe you can handle. But a little tip, nobody actually knows what they are getting into when they grow up. Of course your routines and people are comfortable and secure, but you will be stuck in a place of what you are with only dreams of what you could be. You can make those dreams reality. Yes, you will have to give up some of the things that are comfortable, but if you don’t do it, you will never get to experience the better things that will come instead of them.

PILE 6

You are stressed about losing something or someone. This person/thing is really special to you. It is either family relates or really close to be considered family. It seems that you have lost it and there is no way for them to come back. It is the most painful that there is nothing you can do about it. You can only stay and watch it go. Sadly, this is a part of the human world. There is always a dark side to all the beautiful things that we have.

[writing-fanics]

‘silly little love affair’ [part iii of V maybe?]

[warning: angst: adam being a jerk: mentions of depression: implications of self-harm : feelings of loneliness]

previous part > next part

[a/n: y/n is dealing with a lot yes a big reason, is being apart from Lucifer. But even before then she always dealt with the feeling of loneliness and depression, she felt as if she wasn’t perfect like her brother that she was basically an afterthought (which she was). Adam is no way perfect but he got everything served to him a partners (that were all stolen by Lucifer lol) while she didn’t get anything.

which is why I should make a chapter where it’s y/n back in the garden of Eden, she asks the angels to make her a partner cause she’s feeling lonely. and they don’t even bat an eye just telling her no. Which is why she holds such disdain towards Adam and Sera.

“You really do love him?” asked Emily, and [Y/n] lifted her head. A faint smile appeared across her tear stained face, as she held the rubber duck in her hand, “More than anything.” said [Y/n], looking at the younger seraphim with bags under her eyes.

A portal appeared beside Emily, “Go,” said Emily, a smile on her face. [Y/n] looked at her in shock confused, but she gestured towards the portal to hell. She saw it the familiar Morningstar Manor, tears trickled down her cheeks as her heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t worry about Sera or Adam, I’m doing my job bringing joy to others,” she said, looking at her a warm smile on her face.

Even before she started a relationship with Lucifer, she always hated being alone. She struggled making friends even in Heaven, only being able to with Emily. She didn’t like to talk much or converse with other people, she felt awkward around others. Which is why she bonded so quickly with Lucifer, she fell in love with him as they became friends.

He made her laugh, and smile. She felt safe and comfortable around him. When they shared their first kiss, she felt butterflies in her stomach and fireworks. She’s never felt this way about anyone before, and it was scary at first but she grew to love the feeling.

“Emily?!” a voice shouted, appearing in the room. Sealing the portal shut, the hope faded from [Y/n]’s eyes once again.

“Going behind my back, you know better.” said Sera, and Emily looked at her and pointed towards [Y/n]. Sera looked over at her and had to admit, she felt a slight pang of guilt. Seeing how miserable and how worse for wear she looked, her eyes drifting towards the her long sleeve shirt. Catching a glimpse of yellow ichor, causing her to raise her eyebrow in concern.

[Y/n] tugged, on her sleeve to cover and brought her arm close to her chest. She looked up at Sera, and then looked away sadly her shoulders sulking, “I’m not going behind your back! I’m doing my job bringing joy to others.” Emily protested, to the older Seraphim.

She had to admit she hated the fact she was going behind Sera’s back. But she was only doing her job bringing joy to others.

“But it’s unfair she deserves to be happy!”

“It’s my job to bring joy to others.”

“She deserves it!”

Sera grew tense, “Emily! That is enough!” shouted Sera, looking at her. [Y/n] gripped the covers of her bed, her knuckles turning white. Her lower lip quivered as tears trickled down her cheek, “J-Just forget it.” said [Y/n], as she looked down her nose turning red.

Emily and Sera, looked over at her. Emily walked over towards her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “I-I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” she said, shaking her head.

Emily shook her head, “I won’t.” She said, and glared looking at Sera. “Cause I’m doing my job.” She said, and Sera shook her head her arms folded across her chest.

[Y/n] shook her head slowly, “stop moping about y/n, you’ll be fine.” Sera said.

“Says, the one who’s crush didn’t reciprocate your feelings.” spat [Y/n], mumbling under her breath. Sera’s eyes widened her brows furrowed, “You’ve got some nerve!” Sera said, looking at her angrily.

“I might! But you have some nerve keeping me away from the one I love!” shouted [Y/n], and the older Seraphim stared at her angrily.

“I’ve never been happier, felt more alive.” She said, as she ran her fingers through her hair, “you’ll never understand what it’s like being in love, how it feels to be apart from your other half!” She shouted, clenching her fist her eyes almost glowing red.

Sera stared at her a looked filled with disdain, “You’re right I’ll never know, and you’ll never see him again.” grumbled Sera, glaring at her and Emily looked at her in shock and disbelief, at her cruelty. “Sera!” Emily shouted in disbelief, and Sera held up a hand.

“That’s my final say,” she finished.

“Letting you fall will just be doing you a service.” Sera said, and the angel just shook her head and stared back at her covers. “I hope karma bites your ass,” She spat, glaring at the older Seraphim.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, a portal appeared beneath [Y/n]. A portal straight to hell, she fell through immediately before Sera ad time to react. Emily smiled, and gave her a little wave goodbye. She didn’t have time to thank her before, the portal closed.

……….

[Y/n] flapped her wings only able to fly for a couple of seconds, only for them to go limp. She screamed, as she tried to use her wings to no avail.

Her wings flapped for a couple of seconds to only go limp. Once again sending her plummeting toward the ground. A sense of panic set in as she realized she was once again plummeting towards the ground below. She frantically tried to regain control, but to no avail. Her heart racing, tears trickling down her cheeks as she got closer and closer to the ground.

She closed her eyes bracing herself for impact, unsure if she would survive the fall. She whispered to herself, as feathers come off her angelic wings and her halo faded away. Her eyes turning red and her sclera turning, yellow. Her forearm turning a dark reddish black, and her nails sharpening to resemble that of claws.

As much as she tried to use her wings, it was no use. They were just to weak only able to support her for a couple of seconds, before giving out. Sending her plummeting back down towards the ground. She closed her eyes once again, this time she thought for the final time.....

Until a pair of arms had caught her from her free fall

“Y-Y/n?” her heart stopped, her eyes shot open and she came face to face with the love of her life. Tears brimmed her eyes, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m home.” She whispered, he was taken a back for a moment. He wanted to ask her so many questions. But decided it was best to wait.

Chapter III.5 Sneak Peek

Sera looked down at [Y/n] who stood before her sheepishly, “What is it, Y/n?” asked Sera, looking down at the human who fiddled with her fingers nervously.

“I-I, was wonder c-can I maybe have a partner as well?” She asked, nervously biting her lip. Sera looked at her raising her eyebrow, “You come to ask me now of all times?”

Her eyes widened, “I-I didnt mean?!” She stammered, looking at her. Sera looked down at her, “Lucifer Morningstar, has just corrupted the world with his concept of free will. Bringing evil into the world we created.” said Sera, and furrowed her brows at the human.

“You’ve come to ask me for a partner?” She growled. [Y/n] looked down and her body seemed to shrink, as tears brimmed her eyes feeling embarrassed.

“I-I was just feeling lonely.” Y/n said, sadly. “I don’t have time for this Y/n,” sera said, turning away. The human sighed, and sulked away tears trickling down her cheeks as she exited the room.

taglist

@lxkeee @the-attention-whore @httpakasha @dickmastersworld @littleladydemon @sugarpookie @aria-tempest @abby-likesdraw8 @bethleeham @azullynx @baileyohemgee @haleypearce @cheoriemoawa @kaileyn-everdeen

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 2 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

Sam’s words die in the back of her throat when she sees me and for a moment we just stare at each other.

It’s been five years since we last saw each other, and even though I would still recognize her anywhere, she’s changed a lot.

She’s no longer a troubled teenager who relies on drugs and petty crime to feel good. No, she’s all grown up now, like me, and despite her tired and worry filled eyes she looks healthy. She looks good in her green jacket and with her hair up in a claw clip.

A wave of bitterness washes over me and I have half a mind to turn back around and walk out of the room again.

She came back for Tara, but she didn’t come back for me when I needed her the most.

I know it’s unfair to compare the two situations, I wasn’t attacked by a psycho, but I did almost die along with my parents.

“Y/N.” Her voice is soft, unlike the last time I heard it when she screamed at me to stop calling her.

I swallow harshly and try to keep any emotions off my face. “Hello, Sam.”

The twins share a confused look, and Wes and Amber watch Tara to see how she’s reacting to this unexpected reunion.

“You’re hurt.” She gets up from my chair next to the bed and takes a hesitant step toward me. “Tara said you were stabbed saving her.” I nod and when she takes another step forward, I instinctively take a step back. She freezes and something like hurt flits across her face.

It makes my insides clench up because I never thought I’d ever be the reason for that look on her face, but then again, she’s hurt me so much in the past, I think stepping back because I don’t want to be hugged or touched by her seems like a normal reaction.

She goes to say something, her brown eyes soft and pleading, but then the door opens and in steps a guy I don’t recognize.

“Sam do you want anything from the— Oh, hello,” he smiles when he sees me, oblivious to the tension in the room. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Richie, Sam’s boyfriend.”

My heart drops. Boyfriend. Right.

I force myself not to look at Sam and shake his hand when he offers it to me. “Y/N. I’m. . .” Sam’s best friend? No, not anymore. “I’m Tara’s friend.”

His smile brightens and he says, “Ah yes, you’re the one who saved her, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I say quietly, shifting my arm in the sling.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he continues. “What you did is very impressive. Not many people would have tackled a psychotic killer with a knife.”

My gaze darts to Sam for a split second. She’s sat back down next to Tara again, but her eyes haven’t left me. There’s now a guilty look on her face and when she realizes I’m looking at her, she quickly averts her eyes and buries her hands in her lap.

“Yes, well, it’s not like I had a choice,” I snap. I acted because I knew if I didn’t, Tara would get killed. I didn’t do it to come off as braver or heroic, and something about being praised for it rubs me the wrong way.

Richie’s eyes widen and he quickly tries to back-pedal. “No, of course not. I understand. I’m just saying—“

I clench my jaw and lift a hand to stop him “Save it. I don’t care.”

Technically, he’s done nothing wrong, but I already don’t like him and it’s not because he’s Sam’s boyfriend. No, that’s not the reason. Not at all.

“Y/N!”

Oh hell no.

“What, Sam?” I ask, pinning her down with a challenging glare.

She flinches and frowns. I’ve never, never, talked to her like this before.

“I—“

She’s once again interrupted just like when Richie entered the room. This time, however, it’s by Amber who speaks up with a sheepish smile on her face. “Guys, Tara is really tired. Maybe we should give her some space.”

I stop glaring at Sam and look at Tara. She does look pretty tired. Her eyes are glassy and it looks like every breath she takes is exhausting.

The twins and Wes agree, leaving with Amber after Amber gives Tara a hug. Sam gets up as well, but Tara asks her to stay and since I promised I wouldn’t leave until Ghostface is caught, I stay as well.

Richie looks back and forth between Sam and me, now no longer oblivious to the tension, before taking a seat on the chair in the corner.

Of course he’s staying, too. For fuck’s sake. . .

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” I ignore Sam who’s once again looking at me, and focus on Tara.

“Do you still have my inhaler?” she asks and I shake my head.

“No, I’m sorry. I dropped it in your driveway, but I can go and get it if you want,” I offer.

No matter what terms Sam and I are on, I know she won’t let anything happen to Tara if I’m not here, and if Tara wants me to go and get it, I’ll go.

Leaving will also give them a chance to catch up properly and while I’m out, I can go home and take a quick shower.

There’s still some dried blood in my hair that I want to get rid of and I’m itching to get out of the shirt the hospital gave me after they cut mine off me.

“Please. . .”

I smile reassuringly and squeeze Tara’s uninjured leg over the comforter. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.” My face hardens and I look at Sam, shooting her a pointed look.

You better keep her safe. . .

She nods and straightens up a little. I turn and leave before she can try and start another conversation. On my way out, I spare one last glance at Richie who smiles tentatively and waves.

Moron.

Eleven years ago

I jump on my bed, face first, and groan into the pillow. Today’s been a long day.

I didn’t have school because we’re on winter break, but hockey practice is still being held and today’s practice was particularly long and grueling.

My dad even laughed at how tired I looked after picking me up, and my mom made sure I had an extra large serving of dinner.

Now, I just want to sleep. I’ve eaten and showered, and I’m too tired to watch a movie on my laptop like I normally would. So, I wiggle around in an attempt to get under the comforter without getting up.

A moment later though, I stop at the familiar sound of someone tapping on my window. There’s only one person who climbs the tree outside my window to sneak into my room.

“It’s open,” I mumble with a smile on my face. I don’t bother getting up, or even turning around because I know she’ll join me on the bed in a few seconds anyway.

The window slides open and there’s some shuffling before her feet land on my floor. She shuts the window again, and my smile widens because any moment now she’ll jump on the bed.

I wait, and wait, but nothing happens.

“Sam?”

No answer.

My smile dims and when I hear a sniffle, I frown. I finally turn around and the sight that greets me makes me curse myself for not turning around earlier.

Standing in the middle of my room in nothing but a tank top and sweatpants is Sam. She’s shivering and has goosebumps all over her body, but that’s not what concerns me the most. No, what concerns me the most are the tears that are streaming down her face.

“Sam?” Alarmed, I shuffle off the bed and cup her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

Her brown eyes are red rimmed and her bottom lip quivers. Once again though, she doesn’t answer. Instead, she rushes forward and wraps her arms around my waist.

“Hey. . .” I return the hug and bring one hand up to the back of her head when she pushes her face against the side of my neck. “What’s wrong?”

She still doesn’t answer, so I figure she doesn’t want to talk about it.

What going on? Did she have a fight with Tara, or her mom?

We continue hugging without saying anything, just basking in each other’s company until Sam starts shivering.

“Sammy,” I try to break our hug, but she whines and claws at my back to keep me close. “You’re freezing.”

“I don’t care,” she whispers, and the defeat in her voices makes my heart hurt.

“But I do,” I argue softly, reaching behind me to unclasp her arms from around me. “Here, take this.” I take off my hoodie and slip it over her head. “There, much better.” I make sure it fits properly, un-bunching the bottom and fidgeting with the too-long sleeves before pulling her over to the bed.

She wordlessly slips under the covers and drags me down with her, cuddling up to me as soon as I’m within reach.

She stopped crying a while ago, but she’s obviously still feeling vulnerable, so I pull her closer and run my hand up and down her back.

This isn’t the first time we’ve found ourselves in this position, but it feels different than any other times before. Something has changed and I have yet to find out what it is.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next time I open my eyes, it’s seven in the morning. I stretch and turn to maybe get some more sleep, but then I realize the bed next to me is empty.

“Sam?” I ask, but Sam is gone. The window is open and the spot next to me is still warm, so it can’t have been long since she left.

Present

I step out of the elevator and greet Deputy Vinson and a nurse who are chatting at the nurses’ station.

They nod and smile in greeting before getting back to their conversation, and I make my way to Tara’s room.

I feel much better now, having showered and changed into a new set of clothes. I took a cab from the hospital to Tara’s, grabbed her inhaler, and then drove my car back to my own apartment.

I also called Liam and Paige, updating them on the situation and telling them about Sam’s unexpected appearance.

They know how I felt about her in high school since the three of us have been friends since middle school. They offered to come to the hospital and act as a kind of buffer between Sam and me, but I obviously declined.

I’m more than capable of dealing with Sam’s presence, even if dealing with it is simply ignoring her or interacting with her as little as possible. She broke my heart a long time ago and even though I’d be lying if I said I was over it, I know it’s best to just stay away from her.

Someone rounding the corner and crashing into me at full speed rips me out of my thoughts. I stumble slightly and grasp at the wall to stop us from going down together.

“Hey! Watch where—“ Crap. So much for staying away.

My mouth snaps shut when I realize who ran into me, and then my eyes widen when I see the panicked look on her face.

“What’s going on?”

Sam clings to me and tries to push me back, away from where she just came from, and for a moment all the hurt, anger, and despair she’s caused is forgotten.

“Somebody tried to kill me in the break room!” she cries and without thinking, I wrap my arm that is not in the sling around her and pull her closer.

“What?!”

Our shouting alerts Deputy Vinson, who comes running over with his gun in hand.

“In the break room you say?” he asks, and Sam nods frantically. Without another word, he dashes off, gun raised and shoulders tense.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, breathless even though Sam’s the one who literally just fought off the killer. Her panicked eyes dart around the place, still sensing danger in every shadow, so I tighten my grip on her and repeat myself. “Sam, are you hurt?”

She finally looks at me and shakes her head, panting. “N-No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” I look her over but she seems to be telling the truth because I can’t spot anything amiss except maybe her disheveled hair which is no longer in its claw clip. She’s also taken her jacket off and is now only wearing a white t shirt.

She nods again which causes a few strands of hair to fall in her face. I instinctively reach up and tuck a piece behind her ear only to freeze a heartbeat later when my knuckles brush against her cheek.

What am I doing?

Sam is frozen as well and her brown eyes are darting all over my face, a storm of emotions raging in their depths.

I clear my throat and blink rapidly, stepping back. It makes her hands drop off my chest and I hate how I miss the warmth of her palms through my sweater.

“Y/N. . .”

“Sam!” Richie comes rushing around the corner and when he spots us he’s quick to pull Sam into a hug. “Oh my God, are you okay? Deputy Vinson just told me what happened.”

“I— Yeah, I’m okay.” Sam eyes linger on me and for a moment an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint flickers across her face. Then, however, she turns her attention to Richie and I look away when she lets him kiss her softly.

“Good. I was so worried,” he mumbles and if the kiss wasn’t too much for me already, his sickeningly sweet tone definitely is. I clench my jaw and brush past them, absolutely hating the hurt that settles on my chest and makes it hard for me to breathe.

Focus, Y/N. Tara needs you.

________________________________________________

This one’s a little bit shorter than the last, but I had to get some of the backstory stuff out of the way before the story picks up properly.

(Not proofread yet)

Tag list:

[ohisms]

↪ 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌 ⅋ 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 . ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of syfy's the magicians . adjust phrasing as necessary . this prompt will be updated as time goes on . )

it's always something with you , isn't it ? it's always an emergency .

look , this is your responsibility .

wow , nice trick . i'm sure you're a hit at parties .

so ... you think you're ready .

i called you . all weekend . where were you ?

okay , we have got to pull you together .

you can't run away hard enough , can you ?

i know where you were all weekend .

life is raw , everybody medicates .

i love you . call me , okay ?

am i hallucinating ?

come on , or you'll miss it .

can i start over ? please .

i'm going to make sure you don't remember a thing .

playing with time is such difficult magic .

don't bother trying to compare yourself .

it's good to be aware the world is blatantly unfair .

it's my fault that they said that .

if you think my family is some sort of advantage , you've been misinformed .

maybe i wouldn't let myself forget .

that was before i knew there was something else .

it's really okay if this is not your thing .

you're hurting yourself , & you're not okay .

i just needed to see if i was right .

we've been watching you for quite a while now .

hello ? do you need help ?

you feel right because you're starting towards your destiny .

for some reason , you're involved . so be involved .

look , hold that thought , okay ?

i'm obviously coming with you .

there's no such thing as safe magic .

what is this place exactly , besides a health hazard ?

you ask a lot of questions .

jesus , you didn't tell me you were dangerous .

it's a little bit bigger than messing up .

there's a bad story every few years around here .

can you just help me live with myself ?

i'm gonna tell you something deep & dark & personal now .

i'm trying to tell you , you are not alone here .

i don't know . i wanna be your friend , i guess .

you should hate me right now .

the last thing i wanted to do growing up was read fantasy .

let's just say life wasn't exactly non-stop fun growing up .

if you're guilty , i'm guilty .

come do something stupid with me before you go .

okay , you know what ? i'm not interested in your personal issues .

this isn't just some lark to me , just so you know .

i mean seriously , what do they expect , you know ?

look , you can't run away from you .

there's nothing i can do in this moment to stop the comet from crashing into the earth , is there ?

i keep trying to tell myself that this is somehow better .

you don't see color & want to go back to black & white .

you can't help , & i can't help you .

what the hell was that , you maniac ?

why would you ever trust anyone ?

i'm willing to teach the right people what i know . & i know a lot .

you're lucky i can fix this .

hey , have you heard of karma ? sometimes it's instant .

i'm generous with you , considering .

get me everything on this list . this week .

why even ask , if you'll just forget it again ?

that's not a real answer .

you're a much better liar than i expected you to be .

do you think you have a destiny ?

there is no destiny . no born heroes .

you can either step up to it or not , that's up to you .

this is your problem , that you should solve !

[wormdebut]

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

@hellion-child you did this. Inspired by this legendary post.

‘It’s not illegal to go to the dog park, just to hear hot dads say Good Girl.’

Rating: M CW: overusage of the term daddy and Eddie just being a horny bastard.

——

“You know, this is fucking insane, right?” Chrissy laughs while Eddie lounges on the park bench.

Yes. He’s aware.

He and Chrissy don’t even have a dog and yet—

“Chris. Look at all of these great pet parents, taking care of these little doggies. Look at em. Wonderful. Stunning, very normal.”

Chrissy levels him with a glare. Being on the wrong side of a Chrissy glare is a scary thing, but alas his dog park visits are worth it.

“No. Look, listen. You’ve got all of these doggy daddies taking their lovely pups out for runs and walks and what not and then daddy wraps up his run and takes the precious ones to this here dog park. Woof.”

It really was worth it to Eddie, alright? There is nothing wrong with going to a public dog park to maybe hear a hot sweaty man coo at his dog.

‘Good Boy’

‘Precious Girl’

Bark bark bark or whatever.

Would Eddie ever talk to any of them? Absolutely the fuck not, but a man could dream.

He was bummed though because none of the hot guys were out, today.

Damn.

He is busy scanning the area to see if he missed anyone, Chrissy yapping on and on about how they could just get a dog when someone slows their run to chat.

“Hi!” She says. This woman is tall, short hair messed up from running, she’s got a bright ass orange jacket on, and she is most certainly Chrissy’s type. Thats not fucking fair at all, now is it?

Chrissy’s complaining tapers off. “Hey.”

They smile at each other, and this is truly unfair, Eddie thinks. This whole dog park thing was for him and yet.

“I hope you don’t mind, but me and my best friend just moved to the area and honestly, I think you’re pretty so—I just thought I would say hi.” She hardly makes eye contact with Eddie. So it’s clear who she’s talking to.

Like recognizes like, he supposes.

He can respect the straight forwardness of it all. Chrissy is just kinda staring at her so he speaks up. “Well, I’m Eddie and this is Chrissy, and I can confidently say that she also thinks you’re pretty.”

Both woman turn to stare and him, Chrissy with big eyes and the other woman with a smirk. She speaks, “Well, it must be my lucky day.” She turns back to Chrissy, “I’m Robin.”

The two get talking and Eddie is happy for his best friend, he really is, but where are all the hot men?

He’s about ready to call it quits when he sees a fucking god, running with a ridiculously stunning dog.

Hot people own hot dogs, he supposes.

This guy is—fuck. He’s sweaty from running, and his hair is fucking gorgeous, even after activities. Thats a green flag. Eddie is just shocked.

This is the dog daddy of all dog daddies. He’s wearing tiny fucking red shorts that expose thighs for days and—

“Jesus fuckin’—see?” Eddie doesn’t even care that he is interrupting the girls conversation cause this guys is—god damn. “He could slap a collar on me and walk me like a dog.”

Chrissy balks. “Eddie. We are in the company of a new friend. Robin doesn’t deserves this.”

Eddie simply shrugs and Robin laughs, “No. I think it’s hilarious which guy caught your eye?”

Oh, he likes Robin. “I like her. Get her number—“ He smiles big at Chrissy, before gesturing towards the fucking Adonis in tiny little running shorts. “Anywhozle. That one, look at him. On my knees in a second.”

He ignores Chrissy’s eye roll, and watches as Robin takes in the guy, before busting out in a laugh. “Oh my god—Steve?”

Oh shit.

“I—do you—“ Abort mission. Abort abort.

“Oh yeah, remember that best friend I was telling you guys about?”

She is still laughing, and Chrissy joins her before handing Robin her phone.

Eddie feels like he just got bamboozled.

“Chrissy, babe, I’ll text you. Eddie? I’ll see what I can do.” She smiles at them both before running over to ‘Steve’ and his—their?— gorgeous dog.

“No wait I—“ Eddie tries but she’s already over with Steve who is listening intently to what Robin has to say.

Oh god, oh no. Oh god.

Chrissy is just laughing softly into her hand, which turns into full laughter quick because Steve turns to look at them, smiles and winks.

[raverinalavara]

Unfair Love

Your fingers were cramping from how hard you were holding the door. Your eyes mad to be deceiving you, Regulus fucking Black cant be standing in front of you. The guy you loved from the simply age of 5 all the way until the end of school. He had been your best friend, the guy you pined over for years and years while he pushed you aside every time he got a girlfriend. Only to suck you right back in when he got bored. 

“No..” You said moving to close the door to your brother's manor. Tom, Mattheo and You were triplets. Magical beings already formed crazy connections but the three of you could literally feel each other and each other's major feelings. So the shock and pain of seeing Regulus had pulled them from the upstairs living room to the top of the stairs. Leaning against opposite walls, Tom positions so he could see down the stairs easily keeping an eye on you while being positioned in a way to be easily overlooked. 

When Regulus pushed his way in, it took everything in both of them to stay put but your voice stopped them. “Tom is home. If that's not bad enough, so is Mattheo. Do not come any further into my home Regulus.” Regulus paused just inside the door, while he had been friends with both boys in school. He also knew they were fiercely protective of their ‘baby’ sister. They would kill each other if the other hurt her, so they would easily Avada him if he pushed to hard. 

“Y/n.. Dont marry him.” He said in a nonchalant tone. Acting like he wasnt rocking her world and trying to crumble her relationship to pieces. “ Regulus.. Your being a dick.” You said unconsciously stepping towards the stairs and pulling your hands up to your chest. He stepped towards you and smiled in a cocky way that made you want to slap him “Come on y/n/n, you know you its always been me.. Dont marry him.” 

Those words sparked anger in your gut. 

Stepping towards him this time you sneer. “I was second to every single girl that even looked your way in school! You literally asked me to the yule ball and then FORGOT and went with some girl from Ravenclaw! I cant.. I wont.. I.. I..” It felt like a let down to your last name when that spark died and never turned into a fire as you started to almost hyperventilate. Every time he broke your heart played through your head as his eyes flicked above your head. 

You didnt need to turn around to know your brothers were coming down. Mattheo was past you quickly, having moved before your breathing even got uneven. Tom wasnt as familiar with panic and anxiety attacks as you and he were. He didnt stop to comfort you as he grabbed his old friend harshly and jerked him out the door. He didnt slam it on his way out knowing that would just startle you and make it worse. 

Tom had always for some reason been the one you went to for comfort. You thought it was probably just because he was the ‘oldest’. He was the one who retucked you into bed when you had bad dreams even though he was the same age. He had always just carried himself in a way that gave big brother vibes. Every where you went people thought you and Matt were twins and Tom was the older brother. 

He would always have a hard time dealing with others feelings but he always made the most effort for his siblings. When you collapsed onto the stairs and started sobbing he moved the rest of the way to you quickly. He tries to get you to calm your breathing but its like you cant hear him. He does the only thing he knows too, the same thing he use to do when you were children and he couldnt wake you from a nightmare. Pressing his forehead to yours he gently entered your mind. it was easy to find you in panic because when all the thoughts finally formed into a picture you were stood frozen while everything moved around you. 

Him saying your name broke your focus as you turned confused then relieved to see him. “Tommy” You said in a broken whisper as he reached for you, tucking your head against his shoulder and hugging you he looked around. “Lets walk through all this, yeah?” Nodding against his chest “I just feel so much right now.. Im so mad at Regulus. Ive tried my entire life to be what he wants, to be someone he sees but he never did. I was just someone to placate his ego in between relationships.” 

Tom watches as memories of you crying, of Regulus manipulating you and leaving flash around him and he squeezes tighter. “He hasnt spoken t-to me in years and then he just shows up here the night before Im supposed to get married?!” You sob and then suck in a harsh breath “Oh my god. Teddy.. Whats he going to think when he finds out I was crying over another man when im supposed to be relaxing and getting ready to marry him!” 

You pull away and pull out of your head and then away from Tom in the real world. Standing you start to pace and pull at your hair. Tom sighs and stands to try and stop you but the door flies open. Mattheo running in frantically looking for you, only to be shoved out of the way by your tall sandy blond fiancee. “Tesoro” He barley whispers as he rushes to pull you into his arms. Your knees giving out again but he keeps you up. His huge hand cups the back of your head and neck as he shushes you gently. 

Theo swears his heart is breaking as your shoulders rack with sobs. He turns to look at his other best friends, Tom is staring at the door, clearing pissed and trying to stay put. Mattheo is pulling at his own hair when he sees the questions in his friends eyes. Hes struggling because he wants to tell him so he can better comfort you, but he doesnt want to betray your trust. Thankfully he doesnt have to, you can feel his panic and pull away just enough too look up. “Regulus was here.” 

Theos head snaps back to you and he tries to reign in his feelings quickly knowing that they will all play out on his face. His first feeling was worry, he had worked so hard to show you how you should actually be treated. So many dates where he couldnt even hold your hand yet. Regulus had treated you so poorly from day one that his nontoxic love was foreign and unwelcome. 

You had grown up in vastly different environments. Birthing triplets had killed your mother. While your father wasn't horrible or abusive, he was unattentive. He would rather you have a nanny (who he sleeps with before replacing and repeating) then try and raise you alone. While Theo grew up with parents who not only loved him but each other. 

Next was anger at the audacity. Then was worry again but this time for you. Taking a deep breath and taking your cheek in one hand he wipes your tears away. “Ok, tell me why your so upset by that. We have to be on the same page to talk through this. Can we go sit down?” you shake your head and pull him up the stairs, away from your brothers to your room. You let go of his hand and keep walking straight for your bathroom. 

After a few mintues long arms wrapped around you, crossing over and gripping your upper arms. “Im here, Tesoro. Whenever your ready.” You didnt register any measure of time as you stood under the water with him holding you and pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder. “I dont deserve you theo..” you say so quietly he almost doesnt hear. Before he can ask what you mean your already speaking. “Here I am, the night before marrying you, crying over some other guy.. God im so horrible.” 

Before your hands can cover your face, Theo has spun you around and is tilting your face forcing you to look at him. He looks just a little annoyed as he speaks, “Dont say that. Do you remember what Tesoro means?” You sniffle and nod but he raises his eyebrows waiting for you to say it. “It means treasure.” He nods and smiles just a little “So.. My Tesoro couldnt be horrible.. I get it darling.. He was your first love, theres a lot of trauma there. I know your not crying because you miss him, your crying for 17 year old you, for 15 year old you and so on. And thats ok, because thats how we heal.” 

Theos heart warmed as you stare up at him in awe. “I know its difficult for you, my love. That this open communication and understanding isnt something that comes naturally too you. So youll have to give me just a little grace while I continue to learn to navigate you. I promise one day Ill be an expert.” He leans in and kisses your forehead, staying there for just a moment to give you both a second to pull yourselves together. 

When he pulled back the smile he loves was back on your face. He sighs happily and kisses your nose before looking at you. Everything was right in his world again, all he needed to do now, was wait for you to go to sleep. Because Regulus.. Well Theo completely understood where YOU were coming from. But Black? Nah. While tending to lean towards his mothers Hufflepuff nature, sometimes he needs to remind people why he was sorted into Slytherin. Why he became friends with The Dark Lords children. Why he and your brothers trusted him to care for you. And tonight, it would be Regulus` turn to learn. 

[machveil]

what's your opinions on selkies/selkie AUs? I love seals (so round, very beautiful, very powerful) and love selkie AUs so I figured I'd ask my fave blog about them. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PL9iMPx9CpQ (here's hoping the link works, it's a seal saying 'egg') -🐸

HELP!! I was laughing so hard at this oh my god I love when they scream - seals are so stupidly cute it’s unfair, just a lil’ guy with beady eyes

CW: fem!reader, Selkie!Soap, rambling

well… Selkie!Soap? his handsome smug ass would definitely want to whisk away Reader. rambling time imagine Johnny coming up from the ocean, soaked to the bone, and hides his seal skin amongst the rocks - safe in a nook where it won’t get lost and people won’t go poking around and find it

Reader, maybe their husband is a fisherman that’s been off at sea for a long time, is walking by and automatically thinks ‘oh my god, this guy probably got ship wrecked and ended up here’ - her husband has told her stories of men falling overboard and stuff. Johnny sees you, this worried little thing, rush down to the shoreline. you’re fussing over him, assuming the worst, and hand him your jacket so he won’t be cold. Johnny is absolutely smitten when he looks at you, he’s seduced his fair share of women, but you? he’s never had a woman come running to him to try and take care of him

he plays along, acting the part of a poor, poor man that was swept away by the tides, lets you take him back to your humble little home to warm up and eat a meal. when he asks what you were doing on the road towards the ocean you tell him your husband is a fisherman, due home any day. you’ve been going to the docks every afternoon to see if he’s come home. Johnny nods along, lying through his teeth about how he ended up overboard off a ship— ah, the name of it isn’t important, neither is where he’s from. don’t worry your pretty little head about him

when you do get home Johnny sits down while you cook something warm and hearty for him, listening to how ‘yeah, it’s been lonely, but my husbands a good man’. all he can do is grit his teeth and smile, thinking about how he wouldn’t leave such a pretty little thing behind. but— you’re loyal to your husband, playing John’s attempts at flirting and seduction as him being friendly. he’s just thankful you’re helping him, what else could it be? your husband would have turned the poor washed up man away, but you? it’s only right to be hospitable to someone in need :(

queue Johnny making excuses to stay over for the night, how he doesn’t quite know where he is lying, how your home is so nice, how he’d be in your debt if you let him stay the night. so you do, letting this selkie stay in your small guest room meant for friends and family. Johnny decides to play nice, doesn’t sneak into your room at night - no, he wants to do more than seduce you, bonnie. Johnny wants to make you fall for him— well, until he comes down to the kitchen the next morning and comes face to face with your roughed up, salty husband

Simon’s ship came in late last night while he was asleep

[slttygeto]

CURSING MY NAME, WISHING I STAYED.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you never got the chance to say goodbye to each other in 2007, you never thought you needed to. ten years later, you are still unable to find the right words as you stand in front of his lifeless body. if suguru geto was truly dead, who was the man standing in front you almost a year later?

જ⁀➴ content warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, manga spoilers, slapping and choking.

જ⁀➴ word count: 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: this was requested about a year ago and I only got the chance to work on it today. enjoy :)!

You never associate Suguru with spring, despite it being such a lovely season, you remember it being the one season where he decided he needed to pull away. It was subtle, but you could feel it. He ate less, spoke less, he didn’t want to hang out as usual. You didn’t go on missions anymore, but you tried to be present. Even when summer came around and all hell broke loose.

You associate Suguru with autumn. Satoru doesn’t say a single word when you say it loud, when you tell him that that the orange leaves falling down and painting the road remind you of your past lover, how your love for him felt that way when he left—fragile, easily crushed. But Satoru would beg to differ. He could see it in your eyes, how they refuse to meet his when Yaga brings up the man’s name. It hurts to lose a best friend, but it hurts even more when you have a best friend and a lover in the same person.

Ten years later on Christmas Eve, Satoru has to put his best friend to rest. He doesn’t need to call you or tell you where he is, you just know. You show up as Suguru is taking his last breath and you stand there, unmoving. Your love for Suguru didn’t feel like autumn anymore. The tears running down your face were warm, and your chin was quivering as you let out a pathetic sob.

“I’m sorry.” What was Suguru apologizing for? For killing people or for betraying the people he loved the most? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, didn’t even bother to wipe the tears blurring your vision. You just stared at him, how a smile was dancing on his lips as he saw the two people he loved the most standing in front of him.

“Perhaps in another life,” Suguru’s voice is quiet, and you seem to take notice of how pale he looks. “I am who you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You wanted him to be many things, but it seemed unfair for him. If Suguru was truly unhappy while in Jujutsu high, then maybe you were never meant to be together. If he couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world, then perhaps destiny played its cards wrong. If you were never able to keep Suguru around, then Suguru was never yours to keep in the first place.

You watch as the life slowly fades out of his body, and Satoru turns away from the corpse of his best as you kneel down in front of it and hold his lifeless body in your arms, the heart wrenching sobs that you let out force the strongest sorcerer to stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s time to go.”

--

 “You’re late, (name).” You never associated Suguru with autumn after his death. In fact, no season could do your past lover justice. Yet the person standing in front of you reminded you of winter—cold, mean and lifeless.

Why was Suguru standing in front of you?

You and Satoru are unmoving as the familiar body of your best friend and lover approaches the two of you. You don’t speak, your lips are frozen as you stare in shock at the same person whom you’ve been mourning his death for the past twelve months.

Geto Suguru passed away on December 24th. You’ve been mourning his absence for almost a year—so who was this person standing in front of you?

“I don’t remember you being this quiet, my love.” The pet name sent shivers down your spine, and you watched as the hand of your past lover reached towards your face to hold it. You craved this, to be held by him again after so long, to feel the warmth of the one person who promised you a lifetime of happiness—only to break that promise so soon. You pull away harshly when the tip of his fingers touches your cheek, and Geto Suguru seems to find your hesitance extremely funny.

“Who are you?” You step back towards Gojo, and you don’t need to look his way to know that he was just as taken aback as you were. Wide blue eyes staring in shock at his best friend—his one and only. It was sad that Geto Suguru (while he was still alive) was your enemy for longer than he was a loved one or a best friend.

“Geto Suguru of course.” Liar.

“My six eyes…” Satoru starts, and your heart breaks at how panicked he sounds. “My six eyes are telling me that you are Geto Suguru.”

But he wasn’t Suguru. This wasn’t the man you fell for, nor the man you fought last year. You refused to believe that he somehow came back to life. Not when you kneeled in front of his corpse and held him in your arms.

“But my soul knows otherwise! So hurry up and tell us, who the hell are you?!”

It’s a gut wrenching feeling as you watch the man in front of you open up Geto’s head and toy with it as he wished. He lets out an ugly laugh, one that doesn’t match Suguru’s beauty.

“It’s a cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. Of course, it lets me use the innate techniques within the body, I coveted his cursed manipulation and these exact circumstances.” His eyes then land on you and a sinister smile is dancing on his lips.

“You,” he starts, taking one step forward towards you. “As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories, begged Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri to not get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, am I right?”

As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories.

You didn’t know what to react to first. His words felt like a thousand burning knives, each one stabbing you from a different side. You fight back the urge to jump on him, you know you’re at disadvantage because Satoru was bound to this prison realm.

“I did.” Your response is short and quick, and the man in front of you chuckles at how dry you sound.

“He loves you a lot, you know?” Kenjaku pauses for a second, and the time he takes before continuing makes you feel as though he was mocking you. “Always wished he could trade places with the strongest sorcerer. You two were close, it always nagged him.”

This wasn’t true. This could never be true because Satoru and Suguru were closer than ever. You don’t remember a single instance where you felt as though Suguru was jealous of his best friend. This man was trying to shatter you in hopes of trapping you the same way he trapped Gojo Satoru.

“How are you gonna let yourself get used like this, huh?” Satoru sounds enraged. “Tell me, Suguru!”  

You are just as shocked as Kenjaku when his neck twists, a sign of resistance when hearing Satoru’s loud yell. It was almost as if he heard him and wanted to wake up, to free himself of the man who was using his body to toy with the feelings of his loved ones. He then laughs, and again it sounds evil as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ha! No way! This is a first for me,” his eyes then fall on your frozen figure and by the look on his face, he was up to no good.

His hand makes its way towards you and wraps around your neck, you get that his intention was to choke you. But when his hand refuses to squeeze around your neck, the look on his face turns into an annoyed one. Kenjaku couldn’t hurt you, Suguru didn’t let him.

Unfortunately, he still had more control than the original soul occupying the body and his hand manages to grab your neck and push you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“You’re getting in the way.” No matter how hard Gojo tried to shift the attention back on him, Kenjaku seemed to want to get rid of you and as fast as possible. You find yourself thrown next to Satoru, tied up in similar bounds.

“Goodnight, my love.” His hand caresses your cheek, and you’re forced to feel his cold touch against your skin. You hear a smack and your cheek stings, teary eyes forced to stare into his cold ones when he roughly grabs your jaw.

“Let us meet in the new world.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[twopoppies]

I'd like to share my opinion in refrence to this ask and see what you think: I think the first thing to acknowledge is that Louis knows he played a role in creating this. He knows that in the past, he rebelled against his closet in the only ways he could—through coding, lyrics, even the bears. But he’s not that young, reckless version of himself anymore and he’s now trying to rein it in. Because while those signals may have been acts of defiance back then, they also helped create a situation that he now has to manage all the time for his own privacy.

And that’s where these more recent denials come in. If you actually look at what he’s saying, he’s not saying what people think he is. He’s not denying anything about Harry. He’s not saying he’s straight. He’s saying that this conversation has become too big, too invasive, too damaging at times.

"And occasionally, [these theories] end up addressing things that are a little unfair. This is what we have now. There’s nothing I can do about it."

This is what actually bothers him. Not people believing in Larry. Not people thinking he’s in love with Harry. But the way people go after his family, invade his privacy, and refuse to respect the reality he’s living in. Because whatever the truth of the situation may be, Freddie has been in his life for eight years. This is his reality for now. At this point, what else can he do but accept the situation and try to make the best of it? I think that’s really what it comes down to—boundaries. Not just for himself, but for the people around him who never asked to be part of this narrative. Because while there are plenty of fans who support him quietly and respectfully (like us staying over here on our little corner of Tumblr), there are also people who take it way too far—who harass his friends and family, invade privacy, and trample over boundaries in pursuit of proof.

And I think that’s who he’s really calling out when he speaks on this. Not the people who love and support him. Not even the ones who believe in Larry. But the ones who won’t accept that some things aren’t theirs to dig into. The ones who make his closet harder to live in. The ones who take what was once about love and turn it into a demand for answers he can’t give.

So, I think he uses these denials more to set boundaries. At the end of the day, I think his priority isn’t proving or disproving anything—it’s making life as livable as possible for himself and the people he loves (including Harry).

Hi, darling. I agree with all of this, with one small bit of nuance added.

The last denial was very different from all the others. With that, plus the documentary, I agree very much that he’s trying to set boundaries. And there are definitely larries who overstep, just as much as there are solos etc. who do.

The problem is that every denial he’s done previously has felt so targeted toward larries and “conspiracies,” that the immediate reaction from everyone is to attack us (and for us to feel defensive).

I think this new vibe is certainly a better approach. And, as I’ve been saying for a while (and in the post you link), I think he’d prefer fans who focus on his music, his fashion brand, and whatever other work he does, and stop focusing so much on his personal life.

They don’t need the same sort of support they once did. I do wish he’d just say that instead of leaving it up to everyone to read between the lines because most people are going to read it in a way that suits their own narrative.

I recognize it’s a very tricky thing to do. But fans could help if they’d pull back a bit. I know I’ve been trying to do that (it’s hard).