#I feel like I’m going to burst into tears I keep repeatedly telling myself it’s ok not to talk to her but it makes me so anxious

[hellonoblesky]

The freedom to simply not talk to my ex and know she can’t “ur mad at me aren’t you” bc the convo was in a public server were both in is so refreshing. Like haha yeah no sorry I can’t handle talking to you rn even if it is about a topic we both love bc it’s deeply distressing for my very tired post-competition brain. lol!

[spunkpunx]

Say You Love Me - Jimmy Darling

Plot: Reader is heartbroken when she hears Jimmy has lost his hands, but when they're replaced he decides to make up for lost time

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Smut, Smoking, Mild violence

The words hit me like a ton of bricks when Dell brought the news. Jimmy's hands were gone. My Jimmy's hands were gone. Taken. That no good piece of shit Richard Spencer and his lies. I couldn't believe Elsa had fallen for his bollocks, but I supposed that was his game. The rest of the freaks stood in shock.

"Oh no, not Jimmy!" Ima cried over dramatically. I felt my blood boil. My skin crawled as she wailed. I felt my ears burn up with my rage. She'd been here not five minutes and here she was, caterwauling over what they had done to him. I couldn't out loud admit what I felt about Jimmy, but I sure as hell could let it be known how I felt about her. I ran at her and swung one hard punch to the side of her head. The force did not knock her over, but the shock certainly did. 

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I spat out the words repeatedly as I continued to hit her face and chest once she had fallen. I felt my eyes prick as I screamed at her, before Paul and Eve pulled me away. The second the anger cleared I collapsed in tears. Penny came over to me as Eve followed Dell out the tent. She held me tight as I sobbed into her chest. Ima was taken out the tent, bloodied and bruised and sniveling. I lifted my head only to spit in her direction.

"Shh, shh," Penny cooed, stroking my hair. 

"What have they done to him?" I whimpered, my voice coming out far more feeble and cracked then I had ever heard it. "How's he going to survive in there without his hands?"

"I don't know," Penny told me, honestly. "I'm sure he'll find a way."

She took me back to my caravan and I poured myself a drink. I pulled an ashtray out the cupboard and lit a cigarette.

"You don't have to watch over me Penny. I'm sure you probably best go check on your man."

"I don't want to leave you like this," she admitted, sat delicately on the edge of my bed. She was still so beautiful, despite the lizard tattoo, and so kind as well. I couldn't bear to be around anyone at the minute though.

"I'll be fine," I told her softly, but when she didn't move I snapped at her. "Piss off! I don't want you here!" I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she gathered herself up and left. I knocked back my drink in one. It burned my eyes and stung my throat but I hoped for my own sake it would help me sleep.

I went through more alcohol and more cigarettes. My ashtray overflowed. My head was spinning as I reached toward the bottom of the bottle. With my head heavy I fell over into my bed and pulled the covers round myself, only bothering to clumsily remove my shoes before shutting my eyes tight and trying to forget my thoughts. I lay there, my mind playing a reel of horrors of what could have happened to Jimmy. I pictured him beaten in a jail cell, battered to death like Meep was, or sat in despair at his own situation. I knew he couldn't have killed those women, even if he didn't, because he was here in this caravan when it happened. I knotted my fingers into my hair, reeling drunk. I was just as bad as he had been. 

I eventually passed out, but kept waking, sweaty and restless after nightmares. At one point my stomach turned and I chugged up my guts off the side of my bed. I rolled back over after that and caught half an hours rest before I woke again. The night went on like that until the sun rose and Eve came in to get me up. 

"Oh sweetheart," she muttered upon seeing my sorry state. She delicately picked her way to the bed past the vomit and brought me out of bed to go sit on the seat I had. I blubbered pathetically while she tossed a towel over my mess and brought me a glass of water. I was still slightly drunk, but tried to be as co-operative as possible. Eve sat next to me, pulling me in for a hug while I continued to feel like a maudlin burden on her. She took me over to have breakfast with the others, and I hiccuped my way through some bread and butter, as everyone threw pitiful stares my way. I began to sober up. 

"I'm sorry, Eve. I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"Don't be silly, come with me," she directed, taking my hand and leading me away from the show ground. As we walked further away I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"It's awful nice of you to try cheer me up but I'd rather not go anywhere," I told Eve, following her through the undergrowth. We passed the spot where Ethel had ended her life, which brought back more memories of how Jimmy had been after she passed. My eyes welled, but I tried hard to keep it suppressed. I didn't want anyone to think I was being such a pathetic mess over Jimmy Darling. I didn't want to be another of the freaks that he's fucked and now loves him.

"It's Elsa who said you ought to come here," Eve explained. It was probably her plan to distract me from my wallowing, or punish me for what I did to Ima. I expected hard labour ahead of me.  We reached a small barn with the doors locked. Eve produced a key, unlocking the chains. "Now listen. Elsa says its your job to look after him," she instructed pulling the door open to let me see inside. It took me a minute to realise there was a bed, a bed and a familiar face. 

"Jimmy!" I gasped, rushing to his side. I burst into tears again, this time from pure relief. "Oh baby your hands!" 

By his side lay two bloodied stumps wrapped in bandage. His eyes filled with tears when he looked at me. 

"Princess I haven't ever seen you cry before," he told me lightheartedly, but his voice cracked and he wept. I placed my hand on his face and he leaned into my touch as I wiped his tear with my thumb. I turned back to give Eve a thank you but she had left. I turned to Jimmy. 

"I thought you were gonna be gone forever," I told him, sniffling. 

"Me too baby." I bent down and pressed my lips down against his. We shared a salty kiss. I felt him flinch hard and cut off the kiss when he lifted his arm hold me. He immediately broke down in tears again. "I'm never going to be able to hold you again," he whimpered, and I sensed that there was certainly more to it than that. It stung to see him in such a sorry state.

"Oh Jimmy don't upset yourself," I tried to comfort him. "I have to change your bandages. Okay?" He shook his head. "I let you do it for me," I reminded him.

"Well you have no fucking idea how much it hurts," he snapped. I understood his frustration, but I couldn't help but pull away, hurt. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry (y/n), I just... I just don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hold, still." I ran my hand down his arm slowly until I reached the bandage trying to cause minimum pain. I unwrapped it slowly, Jimmy putting on a brave face. As I pulled the bloodied part away from his wound he flinched and gritted his teeth. "This is really gonna sting," I warned as I poured alcohol onto cotton to clean his injury. He bit down on his pillow and nodded for me to go ahead. I wiped it as gently as I could and tried to ignore his muffled howl. "I'm sorry." He let the pillow from his teeth.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, doll," he assured, breathless from pain. I took his stump in my hands, wrapping it in bandage.

"I tried to tell the police it wasn't you, but they wouldn't listen."

"It might have been me, I was there, I was blind drunk."

"It wasn't, Jimmy. You were in my caravan. You said you loved me."

"I do." He looked at me sincerely. I avoided his eye, focusing my attention back to binding up his arm.

"You don't Jimmy, you love Maggie, you only wanted me because you were scared she might leave you and you thought I wouldn't." I sighed. 

"That's not true, I kept coming back because I love you." Tears pricked my eyes again. He probably thought Maggie had left and was settling for me. I tied off the bandage and he raised his arm up to my face, sucking in his breath sharply as his stump brushed my cheek. "And you love me too."

"No, I don't," I lied. He watched me, his stare breaking me apart like it always had.

"Paul came by before you. I haven't seen you cry once before, (y/n), but he said you have been tearful all morning. He also told me about Ima," he teased, smugly. I didn't know it was possible to sound both so weak and so smug at the same time. 

"I was worried, it doesn't mean-" 

"Please just tell me it does. Just tell me you love me, it's all I ever wanted to hear." I let out a breath I never realised I was holding.

"I love you, Jimmy Darling." He smiled at me. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before taking a few draws. I put it between his lips for him so he could take a puff. 

"Look at me," he complained. "Can't even hold my own cigarette."

"Hush now Jimmy. Things will take time," I reassured him, to little effect. We shared the rest of the cigarette and I moved round to change the bandage on the other side. Jimmy didn't speak until I'd finished and stood up to leave.

"Thank you, (y/n)," he said sincerely. I went back to his bedside, leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll be here to change your bandages again tomorrow,"  I told him softly.

Although Elsa had not left, she had still sold the show to Chester, who although had a definite screw loose, seemed harmless enough. He was bright, chirpy and certainly not bossy. His odd qualities only came from the wooden ventriloquist doll he was so attached to. The twins seemed quite smitten with him, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were screwing him. 

I was civil with Maggie after her trickery, especially knowing how difficult the world could be, but Jimmy had far from forgiven her. This was a hard situation to negotiate. She had asked about him, and I knew she cared, but Jimmy was set in his hatred of her. It was hard to sympathise with a woman who had been part in a scheme resulting in the death of Ma Petite and the loss of Jimmy's hands. For the most part I told the truth. Jimmy was not going to soften any time soon.

I apologised to Ima too, hard as it was. She didn't really take my apology, but it hardly bothered me. It was mainly for the sake of the others, and to keep the peace. 

That night, Dell was shot. He, it turned out, had been the one to kill Ma Petite. I felt bad for his death. As shitty as his actions were, I always felt he was trying his hardest for a better life. Still, killing another freak was unforgivable, and Ma Petite was innocence itself. It was my job to deliver the news to Jimmy, which was horrible.

"He was my father!" 

"I know Jimmy! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you dare start apologising for those murderers, (y/n)!"

"Jimmy he killed Ma Petite!" I ended up snapping. "He killed an innocent and he paid the price." Jimmy broke down into tears again, and I ended up wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm losing everything."

"Come on, baby. It hurts to see you cry so much," I mumbled into his neck. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Don't ever leave me (y/n). Don't ever break my heart.”

The day Jimmy's hands were ready was the happiest I had seen him in months. I came into the barn again to see him, when I spotted him sat on the bed. The moment he saw me he stood up and rushed toward me. I opened my arms to him and he caught me in his grasp, lifting me off my toes. He kissed me, properly. His dark eyes seemed full of hope. I took his arms from around me and held one of his new hands in mine. Mr. Dolcefino had created perfect wooden hands, still with Jimmy's finger shapes. They were works of art.

"They're beautiful, baby," I told him, smiling.

"They ain't half as functional as they were, but my hands have never looked so good."

"Your hands always looked good." I kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled me flush against him.

"It kills me I can't touch you the same baby," he told me, running his wrists down my side in place of his hands.

"I don't care, Jimmy. I love you," I said, and it was the first time I'd said it since he asked me to. He pulled me in again for another kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pushing the backs of my knees against the bed. "Easy tiger," I teased.

"I haven't held you in so long (y/n)," he replied, pushing himself even closer to me, my body flush with his own. I felt him, hard against my thigh. I kissed him again, hard, and let him push me onto the bed, his own weight on top of mine. He began to nip at my neck, and I sighed contentedly. He went to cup my breast with his hand, but came short when he realised his hands could not move the same, could not feel. "Baby, I'm sorry," he apologised, sitting up on his knees and pulling away. I sat up with him and put my hands around his neck, fiddling with the hair at its nape.

"You aren't giving up that easy are you?" I jibed. "After all, you have a mouth in perfect working order." He grinned at me, pulling me into another hungry kiss. He nibbled down my neck again.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to undress yourself, doll." I did as instructed, pulling my jumper over my head while Jimmy watched. He returned to kissing my collarbone as I undid my bra. His kisses travelled over my breasts, wooden hand against my side. He kissed along my chest, eventually moving to take one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as I sighed. He bit down on it and I yelped, scolding him lightly by giving him a little slap on the arm. He grinned again at my reaction, before kissing his way down my sternum. He stopped for a second, giving me an opportunity to pull my trousers off for him. I went to pull my underwear down but he stopped me, instead using his teeth to pull them down and bringing them the rest of the way with his prosthetic. I laughed at his actions, until he buried his face into my heat, licking over my clit again and again. I felt myself get quickly wetter as he flicked his tongue up my slit. His attention went back to my clit, circling it as I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling at it and moaning as I did. I felt my cheeks flush when he came back up the bed to kiss me again, my taste still on his lips. "I'm feeling a little uncomfortable in these pants, do you think you can help doll?" he asked. I happily obliged.

"Of course baby." I pulled his shirt of his shoulders slowly, the removed his vest, taking my time to run my hands all across his chest and take it all in again. I ran my hand over his stomach and reached to palm him through his trousers. He groaned and closed his eyes. Then I took off the trousers, getting him to sit up in order to help me. I could see the shame in his eyes so as soon as they were off I kissed him hard and put my hands into his pants, stroking his cock. He let out the most delicious moan into the kiss. After a minute of this we were both desperate for it so I bit his earlobe and pulled his cock out of his pants, guiding it to the right place. He pushed into me slowly.

"Fuck," he swore, before capturing my mouth with his and thrusting again. I let out another moan into his mouth as he bit down hard on my lip. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, speeding up his thrusts with considerable lack of control. It had been a while since we had sex, so the desperation in his movements was very apparent. He let out the most beautiful gasps and moans, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair as he continued to nip and suck at my collarbone. I tugged at his brown curls and he groaned breathily. He recaptured my lips in his own and I let out a moan as he pushed deeper into me.

"Jimmy," I panted into his ear, before pulling on his earlobe with my teeth. He let out what was almost a growl and fucked me even harder. I felt myself drawing closer to finishing and let out a desperate string of swears.

“Come on, baby doll, fuckin finish for me,” Jimmy murmured deeply, kissing along my jaw and neck before biting down on my collarbone. I let out a gasp as I felt a wave of pleasure over me, clenching around him and digging my nails into his back. He kept going, his thrusts sloppy, coaxing me through my orgasm until a faltering moan fell from his lips and he pulled out, spilling his load onto my stomach. He lay on top of me, spent, and I pulled my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp.

“You really love me?” I asked, as his hot breath brushed my neck. Before he answered he pressed soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Of course I do, doll face.”

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)

ao3

Hugo does not believe in soulmates.

To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.

Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?

Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.

Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.

“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.

She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.

Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.

Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.

He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”

Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”

She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”

“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.

“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”

“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”

“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”

“I don’t have a soul.”

“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”

___

“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.

Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.

Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.

“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”

Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”

Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.

“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.

“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”

“The Snip?”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.

Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”

Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.

“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”

“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.

Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”

___

“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.

Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.

The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.

He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.

Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”

When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.

He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.

“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”

He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”

“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”

Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.

“You could say that.”

“How do-how did you know they were-”

She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”

___

Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.

Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.

So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.

“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”

The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.

So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.

“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.

Hugo had scoffed.

Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.

“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.

Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.

“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”

Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”

The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”

Hugo swallows.

“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”

___

At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.

It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.

Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.

So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.

“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.

The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.

“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.

Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.

But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”

The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.

“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.

Varian turns back to the stars.

“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”

“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”

“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”

Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”

“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”

He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.

Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah? What would I do?”

Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”

He lets go of Hugo.

Hugo immediately misses his warmth.

“And what would be the smart thing.”

“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”

“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.

Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”

“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.

“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”

“Varian.”

Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.

Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.

“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”

Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”

“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.

Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.

___

[starlight-writes-stuff]

Can I request how the feral boys would ask you/ what they would do for your first time sleeping over as their girlfriend? That sounds weird but I hope you know what I mean lol. I love your writing by the way!

hi friend , and thank u ! i appreciate it <3 this is a super cute idea and i had a lot of fun writing it ,,,,, im so soft for them i can't . xoxoxoxoxo , starlight

AYO LOOK AT THESE : the smallest bit of smut but overall fluff ! soft feral boys content , come get yall juice

reblogs are always appreciated !!! <3

dream

wouldn’t be planned tbh , you’d been at his place all day and you’re both too tired to drive

you’d start to call an uber and clay would turn your phone over

“you could… stay here, if you want?”

it was a no brainer

of course you’d stay with him

clay would be so excited , smiling through his sleepy haze

he’d finally get up from his computer just to shower you with kisses all over your face

he’d tackle you back onto his bed , his soft , silly kisses turning into lingering, hard kisses

all teeth and tongue and his hands all over you

he’d get one of his legs between yours, shuddering at the way you’d whine into his mouth

his hands would make their way down to your hips

he’d grind your hips down on him , your sleepiness only making you more sensitive

you bet your ass that he’d make you cum just from grinding on his thigh

he lives in a constant state of horny™ even when he’s tired

clay would be so cocky at how he’d made you finish , doing virtually nothing

but he would go so soft at the way you were exhausted after that , yawning and rubbing your eyes

‘baby’ , ‘love’ , ‘pretty girl’

so affectionate 

you could’ve fallen asleep just like that but clay makes you get up and change

“baby , you don't want to sleep in your clothes” 

“sleep in mine instead”

you would just grumble back at him until he would physically lift you out of bed

clay would help you out of your clothes 

he’d put you in his sweats and a giant dream hoodie

just incase sap walked in for some reason

doesn't want him seeing any of the goods™

he’d carry you to the bathroom and find an extra toothbrush

clay would absolutely try to talk to you while brushing his teeth and the two of you would laugh s o hard at each other trying to talk with mouths full of toothpaste

again , he would pick you up and carry you back to his bed , shutting the door behind the two of you

“don't you want to say goodnight to sap?” “no :)”

the two of you would fall onto his bed and be asleep within 10 minutes , completely tangled in each other

he talks in his sleep

but you snore

so its even

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

george

soft george my beloved

he’d probably plan your guys first ‘sleepover’

he would want to make it special , and definitely do something memorable

george would bring it up to you like a week before

he’d practically invite you like it was a birthday party :,)

i can't

he’d make reservations for a nice dinner before and get all dressed up

george would pick you up and hold your hand on the console

he’d open all the doors for you 

he'd pull out your c h a i r

yall would definitely be cracking jokes all throughout dinner in the middle of this fancy restaurant

george would ABSOLUTELY knock his silverware off the table at some point

you would have to fight to not spit your drink out , laughing so hard

he’d skip on desert at the restaurant and take you to dairy queen or something

it would be the two of you in your fancy attire , sitting outside some tiny ice cream parlor

looking at eachother like you were the only two people on earth

yall are in L O V E 

once you two got home george would carry your overnight bag in 

he would change immediately 

bc he h8’s fancy clothes 

but wanted to dress up for you 

after you guys changed into pajamas , you’d stay up talking for hours

he’d tell you stories of him and all the feral boys

you’d tell him stupid things you did as a kid

the two of you would want to make the most of the extended time you had together and stay up until like 2 in the morning

george’s voice would get all low and raspy from talking for so long

you’d fall asleep on the couch together when you physically couldn’t hold your eyes open anymore

george would wake up when the sun started shining through the blinds

he would carry you up to his bed 

then promptly fall back asleep with you in his arms

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

sapnap 

snapmap my love .

this man doesn’t plan shi t

it would be very spur of the moment , the two of you laughing at some joke that he made when he’d grab your hand suddenly v serious

“will you sleep with me tonight?”

he’d look so earnest while asking that and you would BURST into laughter

it would take nick a hot sec to realise what he’d said and once he did . he would simply . disintegrate .

he would be so dramatic about it too

“i was trying to be romantic ! stop laughing at me !”

and you would just sit there , laughing so hard that you couldn’t produce noise anymore , just silent wheezes

you would start to cry and nick would pOUT

you would just nod , literally unable to produce words

but sap would brighten up at that

“so you’ll stay the night?”

once you got control of yourself , the two of you continued on doing what you were doing

it was like a normal day other than the fact that it ,,,, wouldn’t end

you two watched movies and played minecraft all day , being lazy together

you’d doordash dinner or order pizza or something so you didn’t have to leave the house

he’d have to stream and you would just chill , eating pizza in bed

once it became apparent that the stream was gonna last longer than planned , you would quietly come up behind him and drop a kiss on his cheek

he’d grin at you but be confused ???

you’d text him so your voice wouldn’t pop up on stream

‘gonna take a shower / keep myself busy’

he’d text back a single ‘👍🏼’

sapnap texts like a dad and NO ONE can tell me otherwise

you’d shower and get dressed , then wander down to the kitchen trying to find something to do

scavenger hunt™ for cookie ingredients

you’d bake his favorite and surprise him with a warm cookie im s o f t

the SMILE that would cross his face my god

he would feel so loved

he’d mute stream to thank you, putting his hands around your waist and burying his face into your stomach

you k n o w he’d find some way to end stream early after that , wanting to be with you

the two of you would finish off all the cookies , watching scary movies together

he’d hold you when you jump at all the spooky shit

you’d do the same for him bc sap is baby

chat . i'm kinda scared . lowkey .

you were both half asleep by the time you made your way back up to his room

you’d be lights out the minute your head hit the pillows 

and he’d be big spoon

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

karl

karl would probably ask you that day , texting you before you’d even come over to ask if you would stay the night

you two had technically slept over before , but never at karl’s place (usually pulling all nighters with the feral boys on stream or with the beast crew)

you can not tell me . that karl . would not build a fort . with you .

and he would 100% go all out with it

he’d get lights to string up on the inside (the twinkle ones for sure)

he would get a fuckton of pillows and the softest blankets he can find and pile them in

karl would essentially make a nest for the two of you

you’d spend the first hour alone sharing soft kisses and cuddling so close that you weren't sure where you ended and karl began

he’d hold you , letting you lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat

you’d talk about everything and nothing at all , just wanting to hear each other’s voices

until someone’s stomach growled

he’d laugh until he couldn't breathe 

you had tears rolling down your face , your stomach hurting from the giggles 

he’d either take you to get food before or doordash your favorite

because neither of you can cook blESS

you’d pick out cute , matching pajamas for your first official night together

but

he’d end up giving you his clothes to sleep in 

because he likes you wearing his stuff 

and it's more comfortable than your fancy pajamas

he’d cover his eyes and face a blanket/wall while you were changing

the only time either of you would leave the fort would be for more snacks or to go to the bathroom

karl would bring his laptop in and turn in a movie as you two were settling in for the night 

(some super dumb kids movie) 

(my brain immediately went to the lorax) 

(i’ll see myself out)

and he’d stay awake until you fell asleep, your face buried into his t-shirt

it made his heart so full that you felt safe enough to fall asleep with him

he’d play with your hair and trace over your features as soft as possible

because you're just so beautiful when you’re asleep ??

karl murmurs how much he loves you , everything that he loves about you while he knows you can't hear it

he’d drift off with you still in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head in a sweet, gentle kiss

and the two of you would stay like that the entire night , keeping each other warm

im so soft for him

can u tell

karl jacobs my love

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

quackity

listen

everyone writes big q as a stupid dumb dummy

and while he can be that at some times

this man would be so fucking thoughtful ??? when it came to his girl ?????

you literally can't tell me otherwise .

much like gogy he would plan something special

but like

he can COOK yall

he’d make you a nice ass dinner

and set up a picnic in the backyard 

he’d light candles and make it all fancy

literally it would be a scene out of a movie

once you finished eating dinner the two of you would watch the sunset

he’d play guitar and sING FOR YOU

you’d stay outside soaking in the heat even after the sun had gone down

stargazing for as long as you could

alex would put his arm around you and have you lay on his chest

you’d listen to his heartbeat while you pointed out the big dipper

he’d make up his own constellations aljidhkuvgfhadj

you two would only go inside because you were being eaten alive by mosquitos

one of you would play music off your phone and yall would slow dance in the kitchen

he would repeatedly tell you how much he loved you , pressing tender kisses to your neck , your jaw

until a fucking ad would play

and alex would just lose his shit

he would laugh so hard he’d ipad kid cough

then you would simply ascend

the two of you would be laying on the kitchen floor absolutely D Y I N G of laughter

you’d stay there for a while , trying to recover

by the time you did , your ribs were sore from all the giggles

alex would pick you up and throw you over his shoulder , walking you up to bed

he’d suplex you onto the mattress

the two of you are children around each other tbh

that would lead to a wrestling match

until you’d found your way onto his lap , pinning him by his wrists

w h e w

the way that man would kiss you after that ? bye im gone

lets just say by the time he was finished you would both be exhausted

he’d tell you how pretty you were , how good you did

the two of you would fall asleep with tangled limbs , half kissing

[cakers-2000]

~A Savior Will Be There~ (Kaeya X Fem!Reader)

Genshin Impact brainrot go brrrr.

Anyways I’m obsessed with this game and I love Kaeya SO MUCH I would die for him

I’m not very far in the game but I love him 🥺

Word count: 1.78k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N) please be careful.”

“Oh relax Kaeya I can take care of myself.” You mentally rolled your eyes as you heard your boyfriend repeat the same thing he had been telling you for almost the past hour.

You were currently making your way down the long winding stairway that lead to the entrance of Monstadt. God why did this place have to have so many stairs?

Kaeya was walking beside you, nothing but worry showing in his eyes. “(Y/N) I just… Are you sure you want to go out on this mission?”

You finally stopped once you reached the bottom of the last staircase. There was only but a few feet between you and the front gates. Only a few feet between you and the harsh wilderness you would have to face. And who knew how long you would be left to brave in the wild, who knew how long you would be separated from Kaeya.

Though she was distant you could see Amber slightly swaying near the gate, hands behind her back as she seemed to be on the lookout. Once she noticed you she hopped to attention and waved her hands frantically in order to draw your eyes over. “(Y/N) over here!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at her before slightly waving back and shouting, “Hang on I’ll be right over!”

Your attention went back to your boyfriend.

His arms were crossed over his chest, eyebrow slightly raised as he awaited a response to his previous question.

“Kaeya I’m sure. I’ll be fine. Are you seriously doubting my skills?”

“No that’s not it. (Y/N) let’s face it you aren’t able to wield elemental magic. This job really is best suited for someone who can. I already offered to take it so why are you so persistent to take it?”

A small sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head. “So that’s what this is about.” Gently you moved your hands to unravel his arms and intertwine your fingers with his own. You could see the hint of a smile begin to curl onto his lips just at the mere touch of your fingers. “I’m not just going to be by myself. Amber’s going to be with me the whole time. You know I’m not doing this just to be a nuisance. I’m doing this for my own research too. You guys managed to beat Stormterror but I still want to know how exactly his power formed in the temples. There’s gotta be something more to do this.”

He stayed silent as he listened to you speak, watching as you drew soothing circles on the tops of his hands in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

“Fine, I can understand your reasoning well enough.” His eyes glanced in Amber’s direction. She seemed to be fidgeting more and more every second she had to wait for the two of you. “You’ll be back in a couple days right?”

You nodded happily in response before standing on your tiptoes in order to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You were quick to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, resting his cheek on your head and letting out a small huff sound. “I love you kaeya.”

“I love you too.”

You started to back away. It was time to leave. His arms seemed hesitant to unwrap from around your waist at first but they eventually moved when you shone a bright smile up at him.

And he knew as he watched you walk out those gates, waving happily at him as you walked backwards that he had nothing to worry about.

At least that’s what he had thought.

~~~~~~~

He had hoped he would always see that bright smile on your features.

He had hoped he would be able to keep you safe forever.

He had hoped that he would never see you come to any harm.

But those were all hopes of course, and eventually though he didn’t want to admit it, he would have to face reality.

The sight in front of him was enough to stop his heart. Nothing but fire everywhere and you nowhere in sight. Though there were plenty of enemies around the area. Though he was quite a distance away he could spot Amber atop a cliff, kneeling and shooting into the grass below at the enemies charging towards her. She seemed to be hurt… but where were you?

He pushed himself to run faster, he had to get there. He had to know that you were okay.

The fire burned even hotter than he’d imagined it would. He shouted up in Amber’s direction, hands clasping around his sword to keep the enemies now charging in his direction at bay.

“Amber are you alright? Where’s (Y/N)?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“What!?”

“We got ambushed! I told her to run but some of them were tailing her, I tried to stop them but there were so many…”

“Shit… Okay.” There was the sound of feet behind him and a sweet voice spoke up. “Mind if I tag in Kaeya?”

“Lisa, perfect timing.” He jumped back to stand beside her, already in a running position. “Can you assist Amber with this? I’m go-”

She didn’t even let him finish his sentence as she brought her book in front of her, already ready to fight. “Yes, yes, we can handle it. Go and find (Y/N).”

“Right.”

And just as quickly as he had gotten there he was off in the opposite direction, hollering your name as loudly as he could.

He didn’t want to give up hope but after what felt like forever (though it had only been a few minutes) and he had not found you he was becoming a bit distraught. Was he ever going to find you again? Oh he hoped to god that you were okay. All he wanted was to see your smile right now. All he wanted was to hold you in his arms. He just wanted to see you.

“Kaeya! Kaeya over here!”

It was like he had been rejuvenated. Your voice was frantic, you sounded almost scared but he was just glad to hear your voice. He felt like his legs would give out, he had been running for so long but you were so close. He had to protect you. He had to keep you safe.

When he finally made it to you he could spot you holding onto a tree branch, hugging it tightly as your eyes were squeezed shut. There were a few enemies, the same as Amber had been fighting, attempting to jump to your level while another few were repeatedly smacking at the base of the tree with their weapons in an attempt to either knock you or the tree down.

There was already a swirl of emotions going through his mind just at seeing the current state you were in but it all worsened when he heard you speak to him, your voice shaky as you cried. “Please help me Kaeya.”

And that was all it took. He had always been a rather level headed and laid back man, perhaps too laid back but you were in danger. And he had to save you.

He had never drawn his weapon so quickly nor had he ever used his ice so forcefully as he shouted with almost pure rage, “Get away from her!”

Not only had he managed to freeze all of his opponents but the ice had traveled towards the top of the tree, almost reaching you despite how high you were up. There was no time to marvel at his sudden burst of power though. He had enemies to defeat.

And with them frozen they were a cake walk. The second the last enemy disintegrated into a clear mist he turned back to face you, and ran towards the tree where you were already beginning to sit upwards.

Once he reached the bottom he held out his arms, a smile of both reassurance and relief crossing his features. He could see you wipe away the tears that had clouded your eyes before jumping down into his inviting embrace.

He had never hugged you this tightly before, but it was so warm and comforting. You could feel him bury his face in your hair as he rocked the both of you and placed kisses on the top of your head. You let out a shaky sigh as you returned his hug, just as tightly. The smooth rocking motion with the combined force of his soft and gentle kisses were enough to calm your pounding heart and shaky nerves.

“Thank you Kaeya. I was so scared…”

“Of course. I promised I was always going to protect you didn’t I?”

You nodded in response before nuzzling your face in his chest. “You did. But how did you know where we were? I mean you were supposed to be back in Mondstadt.”

“To be honest I was getting a little worried when you never came back. It’s been almost a week, but once Lisa told us there was trouble near The Temple of the Wolf I… I just had a gut feeling that you were in danger. I’m so glad I decided to come with her.”

“Me too Kaeya… I’m sorry I worried you so much and-”

“Shhh.” He interrupted before you could finish your sentence and pulled away from you so that he could stare down into your eyes. “Please don’t apologize, it's not your fault.” His hand fell to caress your cheek and you stayed in a comfortable silence, doing nothing but staring into each others eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned himself in to place a rather hungry kiss to your lips. You had never felt him kiss you with such passion before you, but it wasn’t as if it wasn’t a welcome surprise. You kissed him back with the same amount of lust, smiling into it as you heard a low rumble, an almost purr sound escape his throat. His hands tangled themselves in your hair and he pulled you even closer in an attempt to deepen the kiss. His sudden action surprised you and a small ‘eep’ of surprise left you. A small chuckle escaped him at the sound and you could do nothing more than smile brighter.

You honestly didn’t know what you would have done if he hadn’t had come to your rescue, but somehow you knew he would.

He was your savior.

Your knight in shining armor.

And you knew you had nothing to worry about while he was by your side.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch4)

AO3

When he woke the next morning in Amsterdam, his feeling of utter contentment quickly gave way to dread as his hand eagerly searched the space in the bed beside him only to find it empty. Immediately, his eyes snapped opened and he looked around the room for her, for his Claire.

His heart sank at the sight.

The twin bed that she had slept in for the night prior to the one they shared was made, her suitcase gone from its spot by the door. He stumbled as he got out of bed, his limbs not quite awake yet as he burst through the bathroom door and he noticed that her things were gone. It was as if she’d never been there.

If not for the taste of her still on his lips, he’d have wondered if he’d dreamt the whole thing.

He spun around the room in a flurry, unsure of what he was looking for or what he planned on doing once he found it.

Then his eyes fell on the slip of paper that sat on the windowsill, the sun casting its rays down on her pen strokes.

I can’t bring myself to wake you. I have to catch my flight. I’ll let you know when I land in Boston.

Jamie’s heart clenched in his chest and he used the palm of his hand to rub at his sternum without thought. He knew that she was gone. He cursed himself for being such a deep sleeper, wished that he’d had the awareness to know that she had been moving around the room silently, packing her things to leave. But in the afterglow of their love making, having released tension and anticipation that had been building inside of him for years, sleep had taken him down and down until he was oblivious to the world. The last thing he remembered was the ghost of her fingertips on his cheekbone and his jaw as he whispered to her once in his mother tongue, the language of his heart that he knew she didn’t understand but hoped that she could feel the meaning of, before falling into a deep sleep.

“Mo ghaol ort, mo Sorcha.”

He had to find her, had to make her understand that he loved her and had loved her since the moment he saw her. Scrambling into the same clothes from the day before, he tore out of the hotel, not caring that they’d charge him for another night when he would inevitably miss check-out. He rushed to the train station and bought a direct ticket to Schiphol, his shaking fingers calling her repeatedly and his heart falling every time it went to her voicemail.

He left his third message, laying his heart out for her to hear, “Claire, please just answer the phone. Talk to me. I winna ask ye to do anything ye dinna want to do but I have to say it, Claire. And I refuse to say it on your bloody voicemail so answer yer phone, tell me where ye are. I’m on my way to the airport. I’m coming to find you.”

Once he arrived, he pushed his way past the crowds of holiday goers, businessmen in their suits and parents trying to corral their children into order. Suddenly thankful for the view that his height gifted him, he searched frantically for any sign of her. He’d found her flight on the departures board and raced to the terminal, praying to God that something had delayed her and she hadn’t had time to make it through security yet. The panic bubbled in his chest as he began to breathe heavily, black dots appearing in his vision. It took everything in him not to simply start shouting her name in the hope that it would bring her to him.

A furious hysteria was beginning to claw its way into his nervous system, controlling the frantic jerks of his long limbs that felt too heavy for him to carry. He dialled her number again and was astonished when she answered.

“Jamie,” she whispered and he felt his heart shatter at the pain in her voice. “Oh, my Jamie.”

“Claire, where are ye? What were ye thinking running off without saying goodbye?” His voice sounded desperate and angry as he spun on the spot, knowing that the compass in his heart that always navigated him to her side would point him in the right direction. Still, his eyes weren’t able to land on her. “Damn it, Claire, tell me where ye are!”

He heard her let out a sob.

“I’m at my gate. You won’t be able to get through.”

Unable to remain upright at her confession, he slumped against the wall beside him and let his head hang, releasing tears that he had been keeping at bay from the moment he had realised that she had left. He cried with her, not caring if people saw.

“Why did ye do this?”

“I couldn’t stand to say goodbye.”

“Claire, I lo-“

“Don’t,” she cried softly, only speaking when he went to say it again. “I’m begging you, don’t say it. If you care for me at all, don’t make this harder.”

He restrained himself from driving his fist into the cement and pushed his forehead against it as his fingers gripped his phone tighter in his hand.

“I canna believe ye weren’t going to say goodbye,” he whispered with a voice full of hurt and not devoid of anger. “Do ye regret it? Last night?”

Her answer came out in a burst, “No. No, I don’t regret it. But you’re my friend. My best friend and with everything changing… I’m going to need my best friend.”

“Yer being selfish, Claire. To give me hope last night and then to pull it out from underneath me, to leave me wi’out breath,” the words were spilling out of him, not caring if he hurt her. She had hurt him well enough.

“Jamie, I thought-“

“No, ye didna think at all. Only of yerself getting to have a wee bit of fun before running off and settling down a whole fuckin’ ocean away.”

With a man who’s not me, he thought.

The line went quiet apart from the gentle sound of her crying and the odd ragged breath that he drew into his lungs to try and settle his racing mind. He screwed his eyes shut and banged his head lightly against the wall.

“Claire, forgive me, I- fuck, I just dinna ken what tae do.”

“They’re calling my gate, I have to go,” she whispered.

“Please, I didna mean it, I was sore and said more than I meant,” he desperately tried to explain himself.

“I’ll let you know when I land. Goodbye Jamie.”

“Claire—”

When she hung up the phone, he sat on the floor and went to pieces. An hour passed before he was able to bring himself together enough to make his way back to the hotel, gather his things and get his own flight back home. With one look at him, standing on the steps of Lallybroch with the spirit of a broken man, Jenny set her mouth in a straight line. In a feat that would’ve astounded Jamie had he the energy to care, she kept her words to herself and brought him a bottle of whisky as he sat in front of the fireplace, somehow managing to keep her children from pestering their uncle. He spent days moping around the estate, barely speaking a word but she made sure that he knew that when he did want to talk, Jenny Murray would be there to listen.

It was two weeks after Claire had left that Jamie heard from her. It was early evening and he had just punished himself with a 10km run around Lallybroch’s grounds, thinking that if his muscles were screaming in pain then he might get some distraction from the dull ache that had set up shop in his chest. The minute he stepped into the hot stream of the shower, his phone pinged with a message. How he would kick himself afterwards that he hadn’t given it a cursory glance because when he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw it.

Sassenach: Message

He opened it greedily, desperate to receive any sort of contact since the painful last phone call that would play on a loop in his mind every night as he lay in bed, sleep evading him.

It was a picture of a bouquet of flowers, a huge arrangement made of foliage and sea holly, thistles and white calla lilies that he knew were her favourite. He’d spent more time than he’d like to admit picking out the perfect flowers for her and knew exactly which bottle of whisky to put in with it (the one that they’d drank together the night that he’d teased her that she had no friends before she replied with a blinding smile and said the words ‘I have you’). She had photographed them prettily displayed on a windowsill that was drenched in sunlight. Underneath she had simply written the words ’Thank you!’ and he realised that he had forgotten that he’d even arranged for the gift to be sent. It was meant be a moving in present, a little reminder of home and the people that she’d left. Now it seemed sad and it made Jamie and his bruised ego feel a bit pathetic.

But it was a start, a small plaster on the gaping hole that was their friendship but one that he was determined to improve on. Anything to keep her in his life, in whatever capacity. He replied to her message with hopes of her having had an easy move, asking whether she was settled in yet. Claire replied almost instantly and so begun the back and forth, both of them trying to be painfully normal as Jamie paced in his bedroom, naked as the day he was born and dripping water all over the floorboards.

When he slipped on a puddle of his own making, he chucked his phone back onto the bed and set to rummaging amongst the old clothing in his drawers in an attempt to find something clean. He really needed to help out around the house more, he thought. Jenny had been rushing around after a husband, two children and now her brother and she deserved better. He had started to deal with the pile of unwashed material that had accumulated on the floor by his bed when he heard his phone ring.

Without even looking, he accepted the call.

“Aye?”

“Hi! It’s Claire!”

As if she needed to tell him that. The minute that he heard her voice he felt like he could breathe that little bit easier for the first time since being in that fucking airport, the gentle lilt of her English accent making him picture the shapes that her lips made. The memory of it stabbed him in the gut and he took a calming breath, turning from his discomfort into the humour that they both teased each other with.

“Sorry whoever ye are, I dinna ken anyone with a Boston accent, ye must hae the wrong number.”

“Asshole,” she snorted. “I sound exactly the same as I always have. It’s… it’s good to hear your voice.”

He smiled into the phone, letting his voice soften and convey the sincerity of his words, “Aye, Sassenach, it’s good to hear yours too.”

An hour or so later, when Jenny Murray went up to her brother’s room to let him know that dinner was on the table, the sound of her brother laughing halted her hand just before she knocked. For the past fortnight, Jamie had been dour, sullen and more prone to tantrums than Wee Jamie and Maggie put together. Getting the two of them fed tonight had been a battle, Ian trying his best to wrangle a teething Maggie as Jenny had an entire bowl of mince and tatties spilled down her front by her son. It had been a tiring night but now, the two wee ones were in bed and her brother was laughing again. Her heart lifted at the thought and she sent a prayer of thanks up to her parents for giving him a bit of a reprieve from his heartbreak.

“Sassenach, ye ken fine well…”

As soon as she heard him say it, she spun herself from Jamie’s door, cursing under her breath about her eejit brother who didn’t know what was good for him and definitely not what was bad for him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Claire, in fact she had been glad knowing that there was someone to look out for Jamie when he’s was away at university. Jenny always knew that her younger brother was more green behind the ears than he was willing to admit. When he had nonchalantly mentioned that he’d be bringing home a friend for the summer of his first year at university, Jenny had pulled Claire into a hug on the steps of Lallybroch, welcoming her with literal open arms and finding Claire to be a quick witted, intelligent woman but with a softness behind her eyes that Jenny hoped would lend her to being a good friend to her brother. The problem, Jenny quickly realised the first night they’d all sat down to dinner together, was that Jamie had fallen head over heels in love with her.

She tried her hardest to lighten her step as she made her way back into the kitchen, knowing that she would not react kindly to any teasing about her ‘stomping’ around the house. Instead Jenny took out her frustration on the chicken curry that was bubbling on the stove, whirling the wooden spoon around with a little more force than was needed.

“Did I miss saying goodnight tae the bairns?” Jamie’s voice rumbled against the stone walls of the kitchen, pulling her attention away from the storm cloud that was brewing in her stomach as she plated up for herself, his large frame appearing over her shoulder. “Smells fine.”

As the full plate slammed down on the countertop, Jamie frowned in confusion as Jenny turned, her hands set at her hips in a way that still put the fear of God in him.

He took a step backwards (out of her reach if she decided to brandish the spoon at him), his eyebrows raised along with a single hand. Jamie knew from experience that it was better to pip her to the post before she got into the swing of an argument, “Before ye say anything, I want tae apologise first.”

“And just what will ye be apologisin’ for this time, mo bhràthair?”

“For treatin’ this place as a hotel, havin’ ye run after me like I’m one of yer bairns,” he had the foresight to look genuinely penitent and it softened her a bit. “I promise ye I’ll start pullin’ my weight.”

“Well, I canna say that I disagree wi’ ye. And I’ll be thankful of the help, Ian was just sayin’ the west gate needs mending. About time ye bucked up and started helpin’ wi’ the jobs around here,” she said firmly. Jamie’s eyes narrowed in at her face, confused. He’d apologised before she even asked but there was clearly something still there that he hadn’t addressed, that she was expecting him to bring up.

“Is there somethin’ else?” He asked carefully, fighting the urge to pull up the door to the priest hole that he was standing on in an attempt to hide from her wrath.

Instead, she sighed and handed a second plate to him. Her hands went from her hips to the table in front of her as she manoeuvred herself to sit. He followed her lead and sat down across from her, watching closely as she began to eat after expelling another pregnant sigh.

“Will ye give me a hint as to what I’ve done tae piss ye off?” He grumbled as he began to eat himself, trying his hardest not to cower as she sent him a death glare from across the table. Suddenly, the space between her brows furrowed and she let the weight of her head slump into an upturned palm.

“I’m worried about ye, Jamie. I’m always worried about ye but still,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I ken I’ve no’ been out of my room much and I’ve been a right miserable sod. But I’m starting to feel better… I think.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, trying hard not to let the judgement seep in as she quickly placed her hand over the top of his, rolling her eyes when he jumped at the sudden contact.

“I think ye should stay away for a while. She’s in Boston wi’ Frank and havin’ tae adjust to her new life, ye should give her the space to do it.”

Realising that she’d overheard their phone call, Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fighting the urge to pull his hand from underneath hers as she tightened her grip.

“She was just phonin’ to say thanks for the flowers,” he mumbled, spooning a large helping of his dinner with his free hand into his mouth to try and shut down any need for a further explanation. Sadly, his big sister wasn’t buying it.

“I ken that yer finding it difficult, mo bhràthair, but maybe this is the opportunity tae find someone. Someone who’ll have ye. Ye’ve pined for Claire for so long but she’s never—“

“We slept together. In Amsterdam.”

The words hung in the space between the two siblings, heavy as lead. Jamie had felt the twist of his stomach at saying the words out loud and shot a glance to his sister’s dumbfounded face as the information permeated her thoughts.

“Ye glaikit bastard,” she finally exhaled softly, earning herself a sad smirk from her brother. “Why would ye dae that tae yerself?”

Jamie shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed… it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. And then I woke up the next morning and she was already gone. Chased her to the airport an’ aw but I was too late.”

Jenny huffed again, leaning back in her chair.

“I just thought if I could tell her that I loved her, that I’m in love wi’ her, maybe she’d have stayed. But she didn’t let me say it.”

“Aye, sounds like Claire,” Jenny scoffed, quickly composing herself at the glare she received. “Suppose it makes mare sense for all the mopin’ ye’ve been doing.”

Jamie humphed and rubbed a hand roughly over his face, sinking his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine, it’s done and I canna change it, wouldn’t change it anyway. It was a very special night for me.”

“I ken but, Jamie, she is gone. She has made her choice. And it’s coorse of her to dangle herself in front of ye when she’s away living her life and yer here, where she left ye.”

His bright blue eyes bore into her, a warning, “Careful, Janet. Claire is my friend and I wilna let her navigate this on her own—“

“She’s nae on her own, she’s wi’ Frank!”

“Aye, she is. And there’s fuck all I can dae about it so this is where I find myself. I wilna let my feelings get the better of me. I will be her friend, as I have been these past years.”

Jenny knew that there was no point in pushing. It was a Fraser family trait, digging your heels in, more often than not to your own detriment. And if there was one topic that Jamie wouldn’t budge on, it was Claire. She got to her feet and grabbed her plate, moving around the table to press a single kiss into the mop of his red hair before leaving the room.

“Ca canny, mo bhràthair.”

[inkandpen22]

I Hate You, I Love You

Pairing: Harry Potter x Female!Reader  

Warnings: Smutty-smut, swearing, fighting

Word Count: 

A/N: my first smut lol be nice 

Masterlist

It’s the day of Fleur and Bill’s wedding. Alone in Ginny’s room, I stand in front of her mirror, analyzing my appearance in this dress. Hermione picked it out at the store. She insists I look best in blue. I wasn’t sure about it being silk or the low neckline or the practically nonexistent back. At least it has straps, though they’re about as thin as pasta.

There’s a knock at the door behind me and a call over my shoulder for the person to enter freely. When I turn back to the mirror, I see Harry enter quietly. I swallow hard, clenching my jaw as I pretend not to care. He approaches me nervously, his hands in his pockets.

“You uh... you look really nice,” he compliments, look at my reflection by my side.

My eyes remain on the mirror as I mumble a soft ‘thank you.’

Harry sighs, picking up on my frustration. It rolled over to today after last night's bickering following dinner. Ron may have left it to slip that the ‘Golden Trio’ may be leaving any day now to search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Harry somehow failed to mention to me, his girlfriend.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, sounding frustrated. “Can we talk about this? I would like for us to enjoy tonight.”

His words are rational if we were discussing him forgetting a minor matter! Instead, we’re referring to him leave for weeks, perhaps months! We will have no form of contact! I won’t know if he’s dead or alive!

“No,” I answer sharply. “Talking about it will just make it worse,” I determine, turning to head out of the room.

Harry grabs my wrist, stopping me. “Wait-”

“Harry!” I snap at him, much to his surprise. Harry stands there wide-eyed, taken aback by my rash reaction. How does he think I felt after I learned that he’s putting himself on death’s doorstep. “Look,” I sigh, softening my tone. “I understand that you’re ‘The Chosen One,’ but we’re only seventeen! Things are steady at the moment, why must we rush it?”

“I have to do this!” Harry insists and I yank my wrist free of his hold. I pace away and he follows close on my heels. “Do you think I’m going to enjoy it? This won’t be a little holiday, Y/N, we’ll be hunting ways to destroy Voldemort!”

I whip my head around, eyes pricked with tears, “but I don’t you to go...”

Upon seeing my distressed state, his features soften. He reaches out to me, cupping either side of my face softly. “I know, my Love. I don’t want to leave you... believe me,” he whispers, caressing my cheek and I place my hands over his. “But it’s up to me to fix this. Everyone is depending on me.”

“Let me help you!” I try to reason with him.

“No, I can’t ask you to risk your life for me,” he refuses sternly, but I can tell it’s out of fear.

“You're risking your’s for me,” I argue. “For all of us!”

“That’s different!” His hands fall roughly as he turns his back to me.

“How?” I shout at him.

He can the most irrational person! For being ‘The Chosen One’ he’s rather stupid! Hermione would’ve been a better option in that pointless prophecy!

He spins toward me sharply and yells, “because I don’t have a choice! Because I love you!” He pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares into my eyes solemnly. “Because I love you...” He repeats in a whisper.

“I love you too,” I reply quietly, tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I can’t lose him. A world without Harry in it is a world I couldn’t bear to live in. “Please Harry, please let me go with you!” I practically beg.

He shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. “It’ll be dangerous Y/N. I... I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself if anything were to ever happen to you.”

“I can take care of myself!” I remind him in a hiss.

I hate how defenseless he sees me. I’m one of the most skilled witches in our class at Hogwarts, Dumbledore said so himself once.

“I know that!” He barks, hitting his boiling point. “But I want to protect you!”

I roll my eyes with a scoff, he can’t be serious! “Oh stop with that ‘me man, me protect woman’ bollocks, Potter,” I mock.

“Why can’t you just listen to me!” He yells at the top of his lungs, his face turning red.

“I’m coming!” I insist, not backing down as I add to this screaming match.

In a swift glide, Harry crosses the yards between us. He grabs both sides of my face and smashes his lips to mine hungrily. At first, the action catches me off guard and I struggle to shove him off of me. He merely wraps his arms around me, pressing me to his chest. Harry’s never done this before, this isn’t like him. He’s usually so hesitant and unsure of himself. I find myself melting into the feeling. I embrace the sensation and Harry grips my waist, his nails digging into my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Harry grabs the back of my legs and I jump to wrap them around his waist. Walking across the room, he then lowers me onto the bed.

“Merlin, you’re so stubborn,” he mutters against my lips as he raises the hem of my dress up.

“I’ve learned from the best,” I remark bitterly, still frustrated with him.

“Why must you be so hard all the time?” He insults, rising above me with a disdainful glare in his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” I giggle, referring to a different kind of hard. Potter doesn’t scare me. Though I’ve never seen him this way, I’m still shaken. In fact, it excites me.

Furious with my reaction, he aggressively curling his fingers under my panties and yanking them down his legs. “You expect me to allow you to come with us when all you do is distract me!”

“That’s not my fault, Potter. You’ve always been too deep in your own head,” I tease, combing my fingers through his hair as he lowers himself down between my legs.

“You’re right,” he agrees surprisingly, peering up at me. “I should be deep inside you more often,” he smirks wickedly before disappearing between my legs.

My eyes flicker up to the ceiling as I feel Harry’s tongue brush against my core. At first, it’s a series of steady glides. He’s teasing me, making me want more. My hand brushes his brown curly locks back gently. Then, Harry picks up his pace unexpectedly, causing me to jolt from surprise.

“Godric fuck,” I curse, breathless from the sudden burst of pleasure.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he purrs against my core, making me shutter.

Harry’s nails dig into my thighs roughly, holding me in place as I struggle under his aggression. I had no idea Harry had this in him, it’s incredible. The sensation is all-consuming, I can’t get enough of it. I bite down on my lip, suppressing a sweet moan.

“Don’t do that,” he commands. “Moan for me, Baby.”

I peer down at him, thinking of everyone in the house. “But-”

His eyes narrowed at me in slits. “Do as I say,” he growls, moving up from between my legs to lay on his side next to me.

I swallow hard as Harry glides his fingertips down my body, watching them travel down to my core. His flicker up to my face as they enter me. My lips part with a gasp and I grip his forearm.

“That’s right,” he mutters in my ear. “I want you to cum for me.”

I moan, his action and words testing my willpower. His lips kiss my neck and suck at the skin, finding my sweet spot. My eyes squeeze shut and I feel myself slipping. He knows me too, it isn’t fair.

“Please Harry...” I whisper pleadingly

“Look who’s so compliant now.” I can feel his smile against my skin, “you want to?”

I hum, nodding my head slowly.

“Say it for me,” he instructs. “Beg for it.”

I remain silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He can’t win everything. Then, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of me faster. I gasp, reaching down quickly to stop it. He moves to hover over me, his fingers continuing their attack as his other hand wraps around my neck. He towers over me with a pleased smirk at my defenselessness.

“I won’t unless you say it,” he warns mockingly.

I squirm under his pressure, his fingers driving me closer to the edge.

“Say it,” he repeats.

“Fuck me dammit!” I bark, frustrated that he can make me get so close with little effort.

“There’s my girl,” he chuckles wickedly. “You needy needy girl.”

His attack ends as I hear him unbuckle his belt. I pant, catching my breath after everything. I was so close, dangerously close. I’ve never yearned for someone or anything more. I want Harry, need him. The best part, I’m fucking pissed at him and he’s pissed at me. We fucking hate each other right out and we’re taking our anger out on each other in the most glorious way.

Standing beside the bed, Harry glides his palm over my soaking core. My back arches off the bed as a quiet curse escapes my lips. He chuckles, rather pleased with him.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, Y/N,” he grins, grabbing me by the ankles and yanking me closer to him. “Just wait until I fill you.”

I roll my hips uncontrollably, needing him inside me. Merlin, I need him to fuck me hard. I need him to utterly wreck me with everything he has.

Harry teases my entrance with his tip, glancing between me and my core. Then, his eyes stay on mine as he glides into me slowly. My lips part as I suck in air sharply. He smirks mischievously, slipping his hand around my neck. Steadily, he keeps apace. I moan, getting used to the sensation and adjusting. Then, Harry increases his pace at a rapid rate, making me hiss. Pounding into me, he grips my neck tighter. I whimper, overwhelmed by the pleasurable and foreign pain.

“Scream for me, Baby,” Harry pants, relentless with his assault. “Scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Fuck Harry,” I whine, running my nails down his back, likely leaving marks.

He moans in my ear, the sound causing my core to pulse. I wish I could hear it repeatedly.

“Just like that,” he breaths. “Louder!” Taking a fist full of my hair, he tugs it back.

I shake my head, everyone will hear us, then what? We’ll have embarrassed Fleur and Bill on their wedding day.

Irritated with my refusal, Harry starts rubbing circles over my clit as he thrusts into me relentlessly. A yelp escapes me uncontrollably, much to Harry’s satisfaction.

“You’re going to do as I say from now on,” he hisses, starring down at me as I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re going to be a good girlfriend and respect me!”

“Fuck you, Potter,” I grumble, barely able to speak.

He chuckles mockingly, “you already are.” I feel the pleasure building up in my core. Godric, I hate how I’m angry with him, but he still manages to get me off. We were fighting just minutes ago! I fought him off but it was hard not to give in. The passion in the anger energized the need for him even more.

He’s hitting my G-spot relentlessly as he rubs circles over my clit. I’m so close, my walls tighten around Harry.

“That’s it Y/N, cum for me,” he orders. “I want you cum all over my dick.”

His words push me over the end, the pleasurable feeling pouring over me. Harry thrusts into me faster, intensify my high. My back arches off the bed as a deep moan falls between my lips. Harry starts at my neck, kisses down my front.

He groans as I cum on his hardness. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” he pants. “I’m gonna fill you up so much.”

Right as I begin to subside from my climax, Harry hits his point. He rolls his hips, his dick hitting depths new for both of us. I moan, relishing in the feeling as his cum fills my walls.

Harry falls to the bed beside me. The room falls silent as we recover, nothing but the sound of the two of us trying to catch out-breath. Well shit, that was by far the greatest shag I’ve ever had. I stare up at the ceiling, still trying to process everything.

“You’re staying,” Harry pants as if that means anything. He certainly knows how to ruin a perfectly good moment.

I scoff dismissively, whipping my head to the side to look at him. “oh I am so coming!”

“It’s going to be rough!” He starts arguing again. “You’re going to get hurt!”

I laugh at his reasoning, “if what just happened proves anything, it’s that I can handle a bit of roughness.”

“Y/N...” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Rolling onto my side, I cup his face gently and make him look in my eyes. “You won’t lose me. Now you know I don’t make promises, so I won’t. But, even if something does happen, I will always love you.”

With a soft nod, he kisses my palm and places his hand over mine. “I love you so much.”

There’s a comfortable pause as we stare into one another’s eyes, pondering the minutes. Harry reaches out and brushes his fingers through my hair comfortingly. Soon, we won’t have this and we don’t know what may happen. We’ll have to make the most of what we have now.

“What time is it?” Harry asks.

I check the clock on the nightstand. “Three forty,” I read before turning back to him. “Why?”

He scrunches his brows together up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “That gives us twenty minutes. We’d be cutting it pretty close.” He glances over at me with a cheeky grin. “What do you it again?”

“Oh please, Potter,” I giggle, already moving to straddle him. He grips my waist, steadying me. “We can do it in ten max.”

“God, I love you,” he grins, bringing me down for a kiss.

I think this time around won’t categorize as angry sex, but for the future, Harry and I wouldn’t mind if we bicker now and again. 

[kreidewaltz]

indigo + hands + semi 🛐 happy 200 ily!!!

NOT MY FAULT | S.E.

about. after seeing hand pictures on pinterest you couldn't stop. it's hard when he teases you about it, but it's his chance to show what he feels when he's with you.

word count. 1.7k

genre & warnings. female reader, fluff, friends to lovers, timeskip, feminine nicknames, comedy.

author's note. not me projecting semi hcs on my head to this fic oops i hope you'll like this and uhm pats myself bc this isnt suggestive uhm ok i got too excited to post this, not proofread but will be beta-read later woof

"aren't ya bored? scrolling through pinterest?" your friend says while you tear your gaze from the phone and briefly look at him. you kick his knee playfully while telling him to shut up and bury your chin on the fluffy blanket you have. he snickers quietly before going back to strum on his guitar, and nod his head along to the sound. you roll on your side and hover the blanket on your body, making yourself more comfortable in his room—which is a mess right now, you noted.

"what's one thing you like physically in a person?" you said while narrowing your eyes at him. chuckles slip past your lips when he tenses at the question, he puts his guitar on the floor gently before lying down on the bed on the opposite way. and he pushes his feet on his fluffy blanket to tease you. not cool you thought while you look at him, getting red to keep his laughter to himself.

"their eyes. there's something about it you know, staring deep in their soul—" he wanted to give a serious answer but it's you. it's also his time to show how hilarious he is despite his calm and stern demeanor. you became acquaintances in third year when he was in shiratorizawa. because your friend invitied you to their game, she rambled about shirabu a lot while you're only focused on him.

"good one but shut up, you talk like you read on wattpad." you sigh to act annoyed because of his silly antics but your heart is beating loudly in your chest.

"what about you? should i expect you to say it doesn't matter because what matters is what's on the inside?" he wiggles his brows with a smirk painted on his face and he knows your patience is melting like an ice under the sun. you groan to the pillow and push your head in it, you have the urge to hit him somewhere and tie him on a chair if you're being honest.

"whatever! uh, i pay attention on the hands." you huffed after and snuggle to the blanket, getting drowsy of the cold weather. his brow raised in curiosity, he watches you sit up and arch your back to feel that pop of your bones when stretching. an idea forms on his head while stretching his arms forward. he does random poses and movements to his hand, and pretended to grab the lightbulb from the ceiling.

"yeah. i bet you're looking at my hands when i play." he emphasizes by doing grabby hands in the air, and you get a clear view of the details on his hands because of the light. your eyes widen seeing the veins prominent in his hands. his hand is similar to the hand pins you ogle to in pinterest earlier which made you blink your eyes repeatedly. who in the world would get excited about hands, your best friend's hands in the first place? you think to yourself and you deny your mind because you knew what the answer is.

"totally not, eita. you're dreaming." you shuffle your feet to annoy him on purpose before you make yourself comfortable on the bed. you hover the soft blanket over your shoulder, and you’re thankful that he isn’t teasing you anymore. you shut your eyes slowly and bury your head deeper on the pillow, and the last thing you remember imagining in your head is holding hands with semi in a picnic somewhere before you knock out.

-

"hey bubs, wake up, there's dinner." you feel someone shaking your shoulder which made you groan and bury your head to the pillow. a whine leaves your lips and pat the bed to find another pillow, your mind and body are laced with grogginess. no matter how hard you pry your heavy eyes open, they shut close and lets you wander to dream land in peace.

"i'll stay here until you get up, i won't literally drag you out of the bed again, sleepyhead." semi chuckles when he looks back on that memory a few months ago. he intentionally denies on his mind that he didn’t caress your cheek and the corner of your mouth gently while you’re sleeping. when he hears your prolong groans while spreading your feet like a starfish, he snickers quietly to himself before walking towards you and watches you intently.

"mom bought your favorite." he whispers and amusement flashes across his face when you he sees you turn around and squint your eyes. ten minutes, your voice raspy when you murmur that before slowly resting your back on the headboard. you pat your cheeks repeatedly since the sting will wake you up and force you to do your morning routine, this is your way to make yourself move and it works, not always though you noted. semi glances at you quickly when he hears the shuffling off the bed before grabbing his guitar and strum the strings softly. after playing around with his guitar, he picks up the trash present everywhere on his room and organize his papers which consist of lyrics he thought of at an ungodly time, and themes he wants other people to appreciate.

"let's go?" you watch him flinch at your voice and your bright eyes fall on his left hand gripping his desk tight. the silence becomes awkward but neither of you said anything, you knew why he was holding on to the table (the veins becoming visible in his hand). it is to regain himself after being alarmed because of your voice. he turns around before nodding quietly, shoving his hands on the pockets of his sweatpants. while you're going downstairs, you got the opportunity to stare at his arm and seeing his veins made you gulp before turning away, clearing your throat to relieve the atmosphere.

"ah! dear, here's your favorite. semi said you're hanging out so here!" his mom giggles after seeing the flash of confusion in your face. you laugh along with her while slowly rubbing your stomach over your sweatshirt, the hunger you're repressing earlier is coming back. he's behind you while his mom prepares the utensils and he begins the soft rubs on your back with occasional light pats before sitting on the table.

"thank you!" the excitement shining in your eyes is making the boy beside you look away and rest his chin on his palm. he begins to magine how satisfying it would feel if he made you feel like that—happy and content. you and his mom get lost on your conversation before he takes small bites of the food and he keeps glancing at you with a grin forming on his face.

"semi played earlier, he's really good." his mom's laughter echo the dining table. your cheeks go red because you didn't mean to slip the compliment easily from your lips. you didn't dare to look at him, not when you openly admired your best friend in front of him, and his mom which isn't making the situation any better.

"i bet he is! he's already my rock star!" when you hear him curse under his breath, the embarrassment you felt earlier disappeared. you laugh along with his mom and clutch your stomach, enjoying that he's a little awkward with cheesy nicknames. you secretly change the topic and distract his mom with your interests, and your heart bursts when you feel his foot hit yours lightly. you know he's having a hard time to say thank you but you kick his foot back, the smile on your face widening. you're lost in your own bubble that you didn't see him looking at you with a soft look in his eyes. he goes back to his food and stare at his plate, the thoughts in his head overlapping on what to do, he couldn't be alone with you because he'll do something. whatever, goodluck future me, he thought.

-

"don't even say anything about that." you said when you see him opening his mouth while settling yourself on his bed. a sympathetic smile goes on to his face before plopping beside you, grabbing the remote to play a series on the television. even though this is his chance to tease you and push you to your limit, he decided against it since he knows the feeling of slipping up when you had no intention to do so. 

“you pick today.” he puts the remote in your palm and your heart begins to beat wild in your chest because of your hands touching for a few seconds. you grab it too tight and you check the movies and series shown, and you picked a classic, romantic series since you know you wouldn’t pay attention to it. semi’s fingers are playing with yours, occasionally squeezing your fingers to get a hilarious reaction from you. the introduction plays on the television, but your senses are focused on semi’s hands and the one ring that’s on his middle finger which you secretly like. 

“what do you feel now?” semi’s voice getting lower while he whispers, but his eyes are looking somewhere, just not at you. before you could question him, you feel his hands loosely intertwine with yours and rest it on his lap. your body froze while your eyes fall on his face, but seeing him looking to the other side and feel the beating on his wrist makes your heart swell in content. that voice of his replays on your head repeatedly and it worsens the heat blooming on your cheeks. he rubs his thumb on your palm and he’s secretly pleased with your reply, “i’m okay.” 

“whatever you say, honey.” a smirk comes to his face when he watches you pull the blanket to your face, and he tightens his hold on your hand before you could try to pull away. he uses his other hand to pat your head and you playfully roll your eyes before resting your head on his shoulder, knowing what he wants. after six months of pining for each other but don’t have the guts to say it, you’re delighted that he did something to boost your friendship on another level. you snuggle into the crook of his neck further, and bring your hands together and peck his knuckles lightly. he ignores the pounding on his chest and opted to say something instead, that he knows will bring exhilaration and brightness in your eyes. 

“good thing i named my new single six months.” 

[stayextrafrosty]

Keep Me in Your Memories

Request: Fluffy/comfort Patrick Stump x reader? The reader somehow hurts themselves and has a bought of amnesia which throws Patrick, but he does everything he can to jog the readers memory. I hope you're doing well! Much love to you!

A/N: This ended up taking a week and a half instead of four days but here it is! Thanks for the request!

And if you haven’t heard the song “Lullaby,” look HERE

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

When they say it happens in less than a second, they really weren’t kidding. The doctor said I have brain damage, but I feel fine. I never saw the car, just a flash of light and then nothing. They said I was conscious when they pulled me from the wreckage but that’s all that’s missing.

I’m twenty-seven. Have a job I adore. Own a small house with my best friend.

I was on my way to visit her, Kris, at work. She hadn’t stopped by yet but the doctors did say she called. I felt awful. I was supposed to be dropping off her house key. The doctors said I’d been in and out for a day or so but that means she couldn’t get into the house last night after work.

A light tap on my door pulled me from my daydreaming. A nurse smiled at me as she walked in, pushing a cart of food. It looked like some kind of sandwich but I couldn’t identify the meat.

“Hey, how are you feeling? It’s ham for lunch. I even snagged an extra cup of applesauce.” I smiled gratefully at her. I was starving. The nausea from this morning had subsided.

“I’m alright. Excited to finally eat something,” I chuckled. She moved the swiveling table over my lap, setting the plate and utensils down.

“Let me just double check some vitals and then I can leave you be,” she said, taking my arm. I nodded and laid back. She took my blood pressure and felt around my neck. “Any headache?” I thought about it before shaking my head.

“That’s progress but you still have a concussion. Whenever they let you out, be sure to take it easy for a while. No contact sports for example,” she advised. I couldn’t hold back my chuckle.

“Please, the last time I played something that could be considered a ‘contact sport,’ I was a sophomore in high school.” She smiled and chuckled along with me. She continued her work silently as I stared at the ceiling.

A quick rapping at the door and another nurse speaking made me jump. She held onto the arm of a man. He looked scared and even from here I could see the wetness glossing over his eyes behind his glasses. Whoever he was here for was incredibly lucky. To have someone care about them that much.

His dirty blonde hair was messy, like he had run his fingers through it repeatedly. He looked familiar though I couldn’t place it. A leather jacket over a t-shirt with black jeans and high-tops. Must be the wrong room.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the two of them arguing quietly. She whispered something in his ear and I watched his eyebrows draw together and he glanced toward me. Relief washed over his features as he moved toward me slowly.

Wait a minute… who is this?

“Y/N, god you’re ok. I came as soon as I could. I was in a session with the guys and you know how Pete can get. I’m so sorry” He stopped next to my bed, taking my hand in his. My eyes darted between him and the nurse that had come in with him. The nurse taking my vitals rested a hand on his shoulder, tugging him back from me slightly.

“Looks like you have a visitor. Do you remember him,” she asked gently? I looked over him again, studying his face. Familiar but not enough to say I knew him.

“Um… no. I’m sorry. Who are you?” The pain that flashed across his face made me want to eat my words. I didn’t know him but god I wish I did. Anything to make him smile. I bet it would be beautiful.

He didn’t drop my hand but instead rubbed his thumb over the skin. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that for me. My shoulders released all their tension.

“I’m Patrick, your boyfriend. Kris called me. She should be here soon.” My mouth hung open slightly. I wracked my brain. Kris called him? I didn’t think he was lying but…

“The crash caused a concussion and some minor brain damage. She wasn’t hit head on so we think her memory could return but it may take time.” The room fell silent as he and I processed. His thumb still ran over the back of my hand, and he gave no indication that he would let go.

“Maybe you should wait outside until Kris gets here,” the nurse that came in with him said. Patrick’s gaze finally left my face to look back at her. “I only say this because if she’s as confused as she looks then it might be best to wait for someone she recognizes.”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze but laid it back on the bed. He smiled sadly at me and moved toward the door. I reached for him, not fully understanding why. I just knew it felt nice to have him with me.

“Wait,” I rushed out. He paused and looked back at me. “You don’t have to go… It can get pretty lonely,” I said, trying to smile. He blinked a couple times. The nurses shared a look but didn’t push him out. He pulled a chair next to my bed, though he didn’t take my hand again.

“We’ll be just a button push away if you need anything,” one of the nurses said, glancing at Patrick. I nodded and they left.

The silence was awkward at first. I had asked him to stay but didn’t have a clue what to talk about. He said he’s my boyfriend so I should feel comfortable with him. Safe. And I do but there’s another feeling. Awe, maybe?

“You say you’re my boyfriend,” I started hesitantly. “You called me by my name earlier so clearly you know me. But there’s something else right? I feel like I recognize you but not in a personal way; if that makes sense.” His head tilted and he smiled at me, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“Um, well you might know me as a singer from a band. It’s sort of well known,” he said, wringing his hands together. I stared at him. A band? I chucked at his vagueness.

“Want to tell me the name of said band or no?” I grinned as he looked around the room. “Oh I see.” His eyes met mine again. “You want me to guess? Well give me sample. Serenade me,” I joked. He snorted and laughed with me.

This was nice. Easy. If we were really dating, I could tell why. As much as I hate the term, he was totally my type. He reached for my hand again, seeming to hesitate before I turned my palm up. I wanted to hold his hand. It was calloused from what I assume was years of the guitar.

“What do you want to hear,” he asked? I thought for a moment.

“Something comforting. What would I listen to before bed?” He chuckled a little and scratched his head. I raised an eyebrow.

“You used to listen—” Loud footsteps sprinted down the hallway.

“Y/N! Holy shit I’m so sorry! God… are you ok?” Kris burst into the room, practically tackling me. She squeezed me as best she could, arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders. The bruises rejected the affection, sending pain shooting through my back and arms.

“OW! Kris, please…” She released me immediately, apologizing profusely. I took in her wrecked face. Blotchy and red. More tears already pooled in her eyes. “Oh, babe. I’m ok. Please don’t cry anymore,” I said, smiling at her. She shook her head before sitting heavily on my bed, grabbing my other hand.

We sat and talked over the events of the previous day. Patrick brought her up to speed on my amnesia. Amnesia that I feel like I don’t have. But Kris didn’t seem worried about him so I guess he’s telling the truth.

“Is any other part missing,” she asked me?

“Well if it is, I wouldn’t know. Almost like I can’t remember,” I said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to peak out.

The two of them spent the rest of the day with me. They asked questions, well… Kris asked questions… about what I could remember. Patrick sat quietly for the most part, injecting his thoughts when asked but mostly just rubbing my hand and shoulders. He never made a move to kiss me or anything, even though any boyfriend might. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss him.

The nurses came in every couple hours to check my vitals. Eventually the doctor came in with results from a scan to determine if I had a concussion. Long story short, I did. They told me that as long as I took it easy and came back in a week for a follow up, I could relax at home. I was cleared to leave the following day.

-

“Could you stop hitting every. Bump,” I complained from the back seat as another pothole jostled me around.

“Look, I’m doing my best ok. We’ll be home soon,” Kris responded. I hardly recognized the turns we were taking. More evidence of the – hopefully – short term amnesia. Patrick sat in the seat next to me, holding my hand again.

I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping that it would ease the nausea. He jumped slightly, though I didn’t call him out on it. He had kept himself at a distance. While I appreciated it, he didn’t have to. It was so easy to be comfortable around him. I wasn’t worried that he would hurt me.

We pulled into the driveway, my shoulders finally relaxing at the thought of crawling back into a bed. Kris hopped out of the car, rushing around to my door that I pushed open. I could walk by myself but they both stayed close.

I’m already sick of the overly cautious treatment.

I looked around the entry way, kicking my shoes off. It all felt familiar but my brain simply refused to remember the details. Which way was my room? Where were the pots in the kitchen? What channels were my shows on? It was like I remembered living here but never actually did.

The blue carpet was soft under my feet. I could see the tracks of where people usually walked. I followed them down a hall, peaking in doorways, trying to guess which spaces were mine.

The last room on the left stuck out to me. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I pushed the door open completely. One wall was black and accented with white flecks resembling stars and bright blues and greens twisting like the northern lights.

“Well at least you can still tell what room yours is,” Kris teased. I rolled my eyes, though she couldn’t see it. A guitar sat against the bed. I ran my hands over the wood before moving it to the empty stand closer to the wall.

I flopped down into the fuzzy blanket, regretting my decision immediately. The sudden stop jerked my arms, sending pain through my body. The doctors had said it was a miracle nothing was broken, but there was definitely some strain.

I hissed in a breath, curling into a ball and praying it would make the pain stop, squeezing my eyes shut. I felt a gentle hand on my back, rubbing up and down my spine.

“I’m here. I know it hurts. It’ll stop in a moment.” Patrick’s voice washed over me. And the pain did subside. I knew it would but him saying it made me want to think he chased it away.

I let out a breath, slowly unfurling myself. Patrick pulled my blanket back slowly, giving me time to maneuver and crawl under it. I let my eyes drift shut and he began to pet my hair. Kris said something about making food but I could hardly hear her. I was drifting.

I pulled my eyes open what felt like a moment later. Patrick was no longer petting my head but I could hear him humming to himself. The light coming through the window was a mix of orange and pink. Must have been at least a few hours.

I pushed myself up slowly, looking around. He was seated at a desk, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at me. Seeing that I was up, he set down his phone and came to sit on the bed next to me.

“Hey there. How do you feel?” As if on que, I yawned. He chuckled as I rubbed my eyes.

“Tired, I guess,” I joked.

“Well Kris made Mac and Cheese but you were already asleep. I can warm it up for you if you’d like?” I pushed myself into a sitting position.

“Maybe in a bit. What were you humming?” He gave a small smile, blush covering his cheeks.

“That song you wanted me to sing yesterday. Lullaby.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Seems fitting,” I wondered out loud. “Can you sing it for me now?”

“After you’ve already slept?”

“I want to see if it helps me remember you. It would be heartbreaking to see someone you care about forget you. I just want to fix it. You don’t deserve that.” I played with my fingers, wanting to reach for his hand.

Seeming to read my mind, Patrick grabbed my hand, though he didn’t stop there. I watched as he brought my hand to his lips, kissing the back of my fingers gently. His smile was beaming as he stood, grabbing the guitar from the stand. He fiddled with the tuning knobs.

“You are still one of the most considerate and loving people I have ever met. I could never say ‘no’ to you.” I felt the blush rise to my face, a small grin sneaking out. He started playing a simple tune, soft and relaxing. But when he started singing, I couldn’t fight the tears that came to my eyes.

“Honey is for bees, silly bear Besides, there's jellybeans everywhere It's not what it seems in the land of dreams Don't worry your head just go to sleep It doesn't matter how you feel Life is just a Ferris wheel It's always up and down Don't make a sound When you wake up the world will come around When you wake up the world will come around.”

I remembered. I remembered a similar situation. I had met him in a guitar shop when he was looking for something else. He convinced me to buy that guitar. He had played a few strings of this very song to show me how easy it was. I had butchered it completely but he never stopped working with me.

Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy was giving me guitar lessons and seemed to be enjoying himself. He asked to see me again and we did.

I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. There were still pieces missing. I could tell. But I knew him. I knew Patrick and he was still here. Playing for me just like the first day and I was crazy about him.

I reached out to touch his hand that held the neck of the guitar. He let the sound drift off before looking up at me. He took note of the tears running down my face and lifted his hand to wipe them away. I turned my face into his hand, kissing his palm.

“Patrick.” It was quiet but he heard me. He set the guitar down again and pulled me close, running his hands through my hair.

“Did you remember something,” he asked gently. I nodded against his shoulder.

“You played that song for me the day we met.” I felt his arms tighten around me and he pressed a kiss to my head. “It’s still fuzzy, but maybe if you play for me… I’ll start to remember.”

“Anything for you.” He pressed another kiss to my forehead.

We stayed like that for who knows how long. I think I dozed off again but Patrick never let me go.

[xbunnybunz]

Daybreak (1/?) [Wolf Keum x Reader x Alex Go]

Summary: The day brings to you Alex Go, and in the night, Wolf Keum. Your past is inescapable. They build you up and tear you back down, but this is what you need to survive.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

------

“And why not?” You ask, cheeks flushed and heart pounding in your chest. “Why not me?”

When he looks at you, there’s a certain kind of disregard in his eyes. The hazel twinkles like stars, you think. Bright yet so far away. He doesn’t answer you and turns away to nurse his drink instead.

His friends chortle and you pretend not to notice, but a burning humiliation creeps up your cheeks and you can’t discern if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment of so many eyes on you at once. In the periphery of your vision, you can see yourself in the clean reflection of the windowpane, darkened by night, speckled by stars.

There’s muted conversations and the clicking of dirty silverware on fake china, of beer cans falling over and clattering hollowly with the floor.

“I just want to understand you better.”

You can’t wrap your mind around why you’re trying so hard to talk to him. It shouldn’t matter, you shouldn’t care. That’s what you tell yourself, but your feet are erected in the ground like a permanent structure and they wont budge, no matter how many times you beg them to leave, leave, leave.

“Wolf’s been having a shit day. I’d recommend you get the fuck outta here before you give us a reason to make it any worse.”

Your resolve embodies itself in your shoulders. They stiffen with frustration, sturdy as an iceberg- then drops suddenly, melting away all at once like cold water running down your back.

The man throws another wayward amber glance in your direction, as if sizing you up for a fight. You would’ve laughed at his belligerence if you weren’t so sure he’d knock out your teeth.

“I’m sorry. I was getting ahead of myself.”

You can feel the stares of the other patrons on you back, but none of them sear you, hot and daring, as much as the pair before you. His glasses catch in the light, and for a brief second you see yourself again.

Desperate, and pathetic. Looking and looking.

Your legs unstick from the mosaic tiled floors, but they feel leaden. You don’t care though, as long as you can move you should go.

You let your legs carry you out of the restaurant, but it feels more like conscious dragging at this point. You think he watches you on the way out, and you wonder if you’ll regret any of this tomorrow.

A tinkering bell chime announces your re-entry to the crisp nighttime air, but the evening breeze does nothing to ease the pounding of your head or your heart. You take a few staggering steps away from the eatery and lean against the brick wall, appreciating the cool sensation washing over your burning cheeks.

The moon is bright and it irritates your eyes. A fist clenches at your side and you grit your teeth at the sting of nails pressing into the soft flesh of your palms. Pain shoots up your arm and you release your grip, but remain unable to get his shitty visage out of your mind.

Purple hair, hazel eyes, red blazer.

“Fuck…”

Your foot meets the wall and you hope that at least a bit of sediment will chip off but it does not yield.

Purple hair,

“Fuck.”

You kick the wall again, this time with more vigor.

Hazel eyes,

“Fuck!”

A puff of dust arises from the wall and you’re unsure of whether it’s from your shoe or the building, but you don’t really give a shit anymore.

Red. Blazer.

You feel your hand curl into a fist again, tight enough that your whole arm shakes with it. You can’t get it out of your head, and you hate that you can recite it from memory.

“FUCK!”

You reel your arm back and send it flying to the wall, itching for the crunch of knuckles, the bursting of skin, the trickle of blood.

But another hand stops you.

It catches your fist in a hand larger than yours, wrapping around it and easily encasing your hand in his.

You look up and expect to see those burning eyes again but are instead faced with a stranger, a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“That would’ve hurt.”

You don’t realize your vision is blurred until you try to make out his features. Your fist is still captured in his grip and when you move to pull it back, he hastily releases it with a blush on his pale features.

“Ah, sorry. I just grabbed you without thinking.”

He says this as you wipe away your tears with your sleeves, silently admonishing yourself for losing your temper in public and letting a stranger witness it, but he doesn’t comment on it.

He looms a beat longer than necessary and you wonder why until you feel yourself swaying back and forth.

You're not sure what to say to fill the silence, so you remain quiet. Luckily, he seems to take the hint and hops in.

“I’m Alex Go. From Eunjang High School.”

You think it sounds familiar. It might’ve been one of the schools that all the delinquents came from, but you couldn’t be sure.

“I’m (Y/n).”

You shift in place and cross your arms across your body, eyes trained on the concrete rippling below your heels, wondering if you should’ve opted for flats instead.

Alex furrows his brows at your guarded pose and chews on his lip, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Are you feeling okay? You were really going at the wall here, before.”

There’s a twinge in your heart at the hint of concern in his voice, and can’t help the snark that seeps into your response.

“Yeah. I’m tipsy and just got humiliated by some jackass, but other than that I’m cool.”

The slur is hard to ignore. Harder to ignore than the clicking of your heels against the sidewalk, harder to ignore than the hiking hem of your dress. You can almost swear you see Alex gulp, sweat beading at his temples in an earnest attempt to keep his eyes on your face. You think its cute, but opt out of telling him lest you give him a heart attack.

“O-oh, right…” He trails off, palming at the back of his neck. “Sorry to hear that.”

You slide your eyes down his tense body and watch how your shadows cross on the floor, dark and muted on the concrete. The moment of silence stretches into a minute, and you decide it’s time to retire for the night. You brush past him, a lopsided smile fixed on your face.

“Well, I should be going home now. It’s getting late and we’ve both got school tomorrow, don’t we?”

You turn back to look at him, but all the sudden movements are too much for your slogging brain. A piece of your heel snags in the sidewalk and you stumble a bit before catching yourself, sending Alex into a frenzy. He’s at your side in a second, arms hovering around your shoulders and waist in case you take another tumble. He isn’t touching you, but the boy is like a damn radiator giving off all this heat.

So much for a suave exit.

“I uh,” He gives a half shrug and a shy grin. “I have late classes tomorrow. I can walk you, if you’d like?”

You look at him and only then does he realize how close he is to you. He makes the motion to back up, but a hand snakes out to snatch his sleeve, anchoring him in place.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

He gulps again, and this time you know it happened because you can see and hear it. His eyes are green and glassy. You can see the reflection of the world in them, and you like it.

“Alright,” He says, a bit breathily. “Lead the way, then.”

The entire way back was filled with light conversation, and Alex repeatedly asking if you wanted his shoes after you took off your heels.

You ask about his friends and learn about “Big Ben” Park, Gerard Jin, Eugene Gale and the enigma Gray Yeon.

He asks about your hobbies and learns of your prospects to become a world-renowned writer, or an Olympic wrestler.

When Alex laughs, you feel your lips curl up too and it’s like forgotten magic.

When you arrive at your humble apartment, all the unpleasant thoughts and memories of tonight, and many other nights before this one, have been placated.

“This is me.” You turn to face him, heels dangling from your fingers.

You know you must look deranged, lip color smeared from the drinks and eye makeup smudged from the tears earlier. But in the pale glow of the flickering, yellowed streetlights with Alex, you feel rejuvenated.

“Thanks for accompanying me, Alex Go.”

Alex smiles, a soft, charming blush on his cheeks and brushing over the light scar across his nose, not expecting you to use his full name.

“Yeah, of course. I’m glad you made it back alright.”

He shuffles in place but doesn’t turn to walk away. You wonder if he has anything to say, and when he doesn’t speak, you decide you do.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

You see his green eyes widen a bit before you’re enveloped in the pressed material of his school uniform, the stiff blue collar pressing into your face. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your head into his neck. He smells like freshly cut grass, and pine, and he’s warm compared to the autumn air.

He stutters, but doesn’t push you away, hands poised to return the gesture. You pull away before he can gather his wits about him.

“Thank you. Seriously.”

You press a gentle, chaste kiss on his cheek. A sign of hope, of hope to persevere. His skin feels good on your lips, and his hair tickles your nose. When you pull back, you fold both hands behind your back and give him a cheeky smile. You stand to admire how the scarlet blush creeping up his neck complements his fair skin and tender gaze. He reaches a hand up to hold his cheek, eyelashes fluttering.

“T-thank you…” he trails off, then pulls himself out of his reverie, catching his mistake.

“I mean-! You’re welcome! It wasn’t any hassle, really.”

You giggle and step back, admiring the gleam in his eyes and the subconscious quirk of his lip. Another step back, then a wave goodbye.

“I hope I’ll see you around, Alex Go.”

You slip back into your apartment without another word, the door clicking closed behind you.

Alex lingers, flustered, watching the spot you once stood. Under the moon illuminating the street, through the brush of reddening leaves, he lets out a breathy sigh.

He hopes so too.

[heyheshi]

Moving Out

2.2k words

written and uploaded: August 20, 2020

🌙 - angst

Please like and reblog! Also please don't post my writings anywhere!

Pure angst! Tell me what you think!

Masterlist

_________

You never thought you could cry this much for hours to no end. Harry were always there to comfort you whenever you feel down, and you to him.

You never thought that there would come a time where you'll be packing your bags at two thirty am on a Wednesday night. When you first moved in, you were so sure that the next time you have to pack all of your belongings is when you and Harry moves in to your own new home.

You never thought you and Harry will reach this breaking point. You always thought that a little fight here and there would be fixed but not this one, not at all. 

You always thought that you and Harry are the end game after hours and hours of talking about your future together - like what type of house you two are going to get after being engaged, or what type of wedding you wanted and the honeymoon place he would pick, or how many little you and him you wanted, if you wanted a pet and everything - but all of that seems too far away to reach now.

You wiped your tears as you tried to calm yourself down and finish packing. You pack in a matter of minutes especially when you're about to see Harry or when you two decided to have a spontaneous getaway but now even picking up a shirt takes you minutes to put in your bag.

Your heart churns at the thought of leaving this house, of leaving the memories behind, of leaving Harry but you have to be strong and to keep on going.

With a shaking hands, you zipped up your second luggage that contains the rest of your clothes, fanning yourself with your clammy hands as you looked around your shared room where it all ended.

---

"I can't keep doing this to myself Harry! I can't keep pretending anymore!", you said pacing in front of your shared bed where Harry sits.

Harry sighs as he rubbed his face with his hands, "let's just sleep this out, okay? We'll talk about this tomorrow, I'm knackered babe.", your boyfriend said as he slowly lowers his body to the bed to sleep.

"No!", you stomped your left feet hard on the carpeted floor you can feel the pain on your feet, "were talking about this now! I'm tired Harry...", lowering your head as you said the next few words, "I'm so so so tired!", you cried out making Harry look at you.

You never wanted to let him know how tired you are, you love him and would never be tired of doing so but you're tired of this constant back and forth that's been going on for weeks now where it seems like no one can hear you.

"It was just a stunt and you knew better than anyone else to believe that!", throwing his hands in the air, your boyfriend is now back to his sitting position again, starting to get frustrated.

"I understand that, but making out? Really Ha-"

"That's for the media! Goddamnit!"

Frustrated tears started to come out of your eyes making your eye contact break, "it's not just about that! You never had any time for me anymore and its so-"

"Oh Y/N, you're being selfish right now, love!", your breath hitched from your boyfriend's sarcastic reply, the way he said it feels like you're not talking to Harry - your Harry.

Composing yourself as quickly as your breath tumbled, you pointed your pointer finger at him, "stop interrupting me! I can't do this anymore, H!"

Harry met your eyes for a quick second where you think you almost saw something flashed in his eyes but it was gone way too quick as he started to yell at you back, "you said you're okay with it?! I needed publicity!"

"I was! At first I was...", feeling defeated you started to lower you voice, "but then as month passes you seem to have forgotten that you have a girlfriend in real world! And I'm sorry if this girlfriend can't give you the publicity you needed!"

"Then what do you want, huh? Want me to tell the management that my 'real girlfriend' couldn't handle a stunt and is crying like a baby right now?! Is that what you want Y/N?!"

You wanted to slap him, to punch him repeatedly, to yell more and more at him just so he can feel how hurt and frustrated you are but in the midst of everything, your love for him still wins. You know you couldn't hurt him no matter how much he hurt you so you only told him what you think is the best thing to do right now, "I want us to take a break..."

"A break?", Harry asked. 

The thought of taking a break scares you more than anything right now but you'd rather do it than risk not having to fix any of this.

"I'm not breaking up with you H, I just need to think this out an-"

"Only a few only comes back after a break...", he started, "but fine, Kendall's here anyways. The fans don't know we're dating so it's not going to affect the sales."

"Wow Harry, just wow! Are you being serious right now?", you tried to mask the crack in your voice but it seems useless as Harry probably doesn't notice it anyway.

"What?"

Your continuous tears continues to make its way out while Harry doesn't seem to look bothered, "you're unbelievable! You're thinking about 'that' right now as were falling apart? Kendall?! And the money?!", wiping your tear streaked face with your arms.

Harry used to wipe your tears from your face saying that he hates seeing you cry unless its happy tears and he despise causing you pain but now, you're not sure if he even remembers it anymore. 

"It was what were fighting about in the first place! What else do you want?!", emphasizing his words but pointing his pointer finger at you as he walks on your place making you walk backwards.

"I just want you to give time for me! Just a bit!", your hips hit the small study table at the corner of the room making you cry in agony with the next few words, "just a bit H!"

"Don't you dare Y/N! You know this would happen the moment you decided to dat-"

"I KNOW! Fuck! I know!", you straightened your self and pushed your chest towards Harry, this time making him move backwards, "but the fact that you're spending so much time on her makes me think that this isn't just a PR stunt anymore..."

With a disbelief voice, Harry asks, "are you saying that I'm cheating on you?"

"Are you? Besides holding her hands and kissing her for the media?", you make you way past him slowly sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No. I would never do that to you, Y/N."

"Okay.", you replied, only looking at the door beside him.

Harry punched the wall near him making you look up in alarm, "okay? Just okay?!" 

You know he would never hit you but you can't seem to think straight anymore. 

"What else do you want me to say Harry?"

It's now Harry's turn to pace around the room, "I don't know, that maybe you believe me?"

"I wish i can...", you whispered, playing with your fingers, specifically the one on your left where you were so sure a ring would sit before tonight.

"I- you know what? Let's just finish this.", Harry said sternly.

You don't know what exactly he's saying but you're scared to find out and it's only a matter of time where your bubble can still keep you alive.

Slowly looking up to him, you started asking, "are you sayi-"

"Yes! Fuck! That's what you wanted right?", the frustration in his voice and in his face is too visible to ignore as he run both of his hand through his hair and pulling on it as if he's going crazy.

"I said a break! Not a break up Harry!", standing up as you yelled the words, ready fo fight for your relationship.

But Harry seems done, lowering his voice the same time he lowers his head, "it's the same thing, Y/N, it's the same thing..."

Maybe you're crazy, maybe you're not. Maybe you should take a break, maybe you shouldn't. Only there's one thing you're certain about - it's how much this is killing you and you're ready to burst but you still love him more than anything around you.

"Fine! You can go back to Kendall now! Were done!", it hurts you to say those words but you know you can't take it back now, "I don't know if I know you anymore, H...", what happened this night already happened and you couldn't take it back.

You look at Harry as he shakes his head 'no' then left the room making you cry harder. 

He used to be the one that wipes your tears away but now you have to do it for yourself, and what hurts the most is that he's the one that caused your tears.

---

Shaking your head to get rid of the fresh memory, you realized you're crying again. You took a few deep breaths and continued packing the rest of your stuff.

You're aim is to get out of here as fast as possible while Harry's still out. Finishing everything up as you closed the bathroom door and your last bag containing your toiletries and your shoes, making sure to not leave anything behind.

You made your way down the stairs after calling a Uber, taking two rounds of going back and forth upstairs to bring your four huge luggage downstairs.

Making your way to the kitchen to drink some water then going back to the living room to wait for the Uber, someone opened the front door.

From the kitchen, you can see a tipsy Harry looking at your bags on the floor, "what's this Y/N?"

"We're not together anymore so I'm moving out, don't worry my cab is on the way, you won't need to put up with me for a long time...", you said slowly walking towards him and your bags.

"You know you don't have to leave in the middle of the night, right? I'm not kicking you out but if you want to leave immediately, you could have done it tomorrow when the sun is up", he replied. The air around the house too thick for your liking.

"Why?", you asked.

"Love, you have nowhere to go right now and I still care about you.", his voice pleads you to stay until the morning where he knows you'll be much safer. You almost melted at his concern but you're far too deep to your emotions now.

"Don't call me love. You can't call me that anymore.", Harry lowers his head at your words, "and you don't seem to care earlier, what's the difference now?"

You two know that you both fucked up and you can't do anything about it now.

"I will always care about you, Y/N. I still love you, so much and I wish I can take back everything that's been said and done but I can't and I'm so sorry for everything. I still want u-", the honk outside interrupted his voice making him close his eyes tightly.

You know what's he's going to say but you're not sure if you're ready for it, or if you'll ever be ready for it.

Harry took two of your bags as you took the rest, not resisting his help anymore as you're too tired to fight him off.

Opening the door, the chilly wind touches your skin, "so this is it huh?", you looked up at Harry, your tears at bay again.

"I don't want this to be just it, Y/N...", Harry dropped your bags and pulled you to his chest tightly making you drop the bags you're holding too, "baby I'm so sorry...", he sobbed, "I wish I could ta-"

"What's done is done Harry...", you whispered on his chest that's thumping hard as you tighten your hold on him, "I love you H...", Harry repeatedly kissed your hairline at your words, still not wanting to let you go.

"I love you too and I still want us and if you still want me, you know where you find me...", with that, Harry kissed your forehead softly one last time before letting you go.

The driver helped you put your bags on the trunk of the cab, Harry still watching from his porch. You waved at him and went inside the cab, not breaking the eye contact even after the cab started moving, until you couldn't see him anymore.

You directed the driver to drop you to the nearest hotel as where you cried yourself until the next evening, questioning where the both of you went wrong and if your relationship is still worth saving for.

Everything around you is uncertain and unclear, you don't know where to live or how you're going to face the reality but there's one thing you're certain and clear above all - you love Harry and didn't regret meeting him.

_____

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast - Deleted scene

Characters: c!Dream, c!Wilbur, c!Tommy Word count: 1194 words Content: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries, death mention, torture mention, dark!fic

-----

[Setting: Prison.]

Tommy sits against the wall, feeling more terror than he’s ever felt before. The wall is unusually cold, but it’s not a kind of cold that feels nice compared to the lava. It’s the kind of chill that freezes his blood, causing him to feel like he’s going to develop hypothermia any second now. His shirt is starting to stick to his back in a way that pulls on flesh, as if frozen needles are piercing through the cloth and right into his flesh.

Nothing about the scene before him is normal. Nothing about the way Wilbur is appearing out of thin air is normal. Nor is the expression on Dream’s face, with that wide-eyed grin on his face. He looks deranged.

In all fairness, Tommy’s expression of fear is probably similar, except without the gleeful smile. He can feel a grimace on his face, he can feel his lips stretching out to either side as he clenches his teeth together so hard his jaw aches. Tommy tries to make himself small and insignificant, but Wilbur is staring right at him.

“Blood.”

It’s all Wilbur says. Right, Tommy would be covered in it, wouldn’t he? Dream had beaten him to death, punching him repeatedly in the face. With that memory comes the pain. Tommy tries to touch his face, only to wince at the sudden burst of pain that comes with it. Without a mirror, it’s hard to tell exactly what shape he’s in. Part of him hopes he looks awful; he wants Dream to regret his decisions. Also, because he wants Wilbur to comfort him, to wrap his arms around Tommy and tell him everything will be okay-

“Blood,” Wilbur repeats. He turns to face Dream, who’s no longer smiling so eagerly. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

Wilbur isn’t approaching Tommy. Instead, he’s grabbing Dream by the collar of his shirt and yanking him forward. “Everything was going according to plan, Dream. Why’d you let your hubris grow so much?”

“He wouldn’t listen to me!” Dream protests. “I was trying to get him to-”

“He’s covered in blood, you idiot!” Wilbur snarls. It’s the first time in months that Tommy remembers Wilbur raising his voice. It was never something Wilbur did often, preferring to be soft-spoken. In this moment, it’s chilling, because he doesn’t even look like Wilbur. He looks twisted and mangled in his own way. The glow from the lava turns Wilbur’s skin into shades of reds and oranges, and his clothes appear almost black. Tommy doesn’t want anything to do with Wilbur, either.

“Wilbur I’m-”

Whatever Dream was about to say is immediately shut down, because Wilbur is dragging him toward the lava. His grip somehow seems to have gained strength in the void, since he only needs one hand to jerk Dream around. He shoves Dream right to the edge and holds him in place. “I could take your last life right here and right now.” Wilbur’s voice is low and quiet again, though Tommy can hear it clearly. “In fact, I probably should, considering what you did to Tommy. This was never part of the deal, you were never supposed to hurt him. Don’t lie to me either, I know what you did to him in exile.”

Deal?

What deal is Wilbur talking about? The wall is no longer so cold, but now uncomfortably hot. It’s back to the molten temperature that is the cell, but now it feels even worse. His shirt is sticking to him again, and Tommy is almost certain the fabric is melting into his skin. It’s a new kind of ache, and he wants nothing more than to break the obsidian with his bare hands if it means getting away from the pair before him.

“Wilbur I was trying-”

Dream is once again cut off as Wilbur shoves down on the back of his neck, nearly pushing him into the lava. “The deal was simple, Dream. You keep an eye on Tommy and prepare him for me. Instead, you broke him. He was never supposed to die, you insignificant flea.”

“You can’t talk to me like this, I’m a god!” Dream struggles to throw Wilbur off of him. “I’m the one with the power!”

“No, I am. I’m no longer your vassal, Dream. I’m tempted to end everything and do this myself. I could easily let you rot in here, or I could push you in. The choice is yours. Either way, you’re not to touch him again. Because I can -and I promise I will- end your life in the most excruciating way possible.”

“W...wilbur,” Tommy finally gasps. “L-let him go...”

“No.”

Wilbur does anyway, merely watching as Dream falls back, scrambling back from the lava with tear-filled eyes. Tommy can see burn marks on the man’s arms and fingers, and he turns away. His own injuries are painful enough, he doesn’t want to imagine Dream’s.

“So.” Wilbur flicks some ashes off his shoulder as if he hadn’t just threatened Dream. “We have a deal to discuss and carry out. Where’s Ranboo?”

“He...he should be coming soon,” Dream says breathlessly. He shoots a nervous glance in Tommy’s direction before moving to sit opposite Tommy. Whatever power Wilbur has now, it’s extending to control over Dream.

Tommy had only seen a glimpse of it in the afterlife, and now he’s seeing a tangible, deadly form of it. He wants to jump into the lava himself to escape this, because it clearly doesn’t mean anything great. He doesn’t move though, not wanting to do anything to earn Wilbur’s anger.

Except...

Wilbur’s approaching him now, sitting down next to Tommy and wrapping an arm around him. Tommy stiffens, making an attempt to pull away, but Wilbur’s grip is just as tight as it looked on Dream. “Tommy, we’re going to get out of here soon. We just have to alert Sam.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Tommy whispers. “Because I don’t want to die again.”

“No, never. I’m not cruel like Dream is.” Wilbur shoots him a grin. Tommy stares into his eyes, trying to see something he recognizes in there. Maybe it’s the light from the lava, or the darkness of the obsidian, but in this cell, where all senses are cut off except for the unbearable heat and isolation and cramped space, Tommy can only see into another endless void.

“Trust me as you once did,” Wilbur says. That line is familiar, he’s heard it somewhere before. He can’t spare any time to ponder where Wilbur might’ve said it before, because now, he’s being hauled to his feet. His back is sticky with sweat and (what he assumes to be) blood, and Wilbur is holding onto him so tightly it hurts.

“Sam’s coming,” Dream mutters. The man’s regained his composure, now looking more confident.

“Stick to the plan, alright?” Wilbur smiles more gently. “Dream, it’ll be okay as long as you don’t go off-script again. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, alright. I trust you.”

“Show’s all yours, Big D.”

Tommy watches the exchange with a heavy heart. They’re going to escape, but there’s no freedom for him. Not anymore.

[scarletwinterxx]

to Mark Lee

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

“No no no no no” I say repeatedly as I open the oven, smoke coming out when I fully opened the oven door

“How did I mess this up” I mumbled to myself.

This has already been a very long frustrating day. Nothing’s going my way, and it’s suppose to be a happy day. It was Mark’s birthday, I was planning on baking a cake for him but obviously I just ruined that plan. 

I hear my phone ring on the counter making me turn my attention away from the disaster in front of me, already giving up on the burned cake I set it by the sink and turned the oven off before answering the call.

“What?” I asked, annoyance loud and clear in my voice

“Uh you okay?” I hear Mark’s voice asked, oh great now I snapped at the birthday boy

“Oh Hi Mark, sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you” I mumbled

“No worries, are you okay though? You don’t sound good”

I wanted to tell him everything that is going wrong right now but it’s his birthday and all I’ve been doing all day is trying to make this day as special as possible. 

I’m clearly failing at that. 

“Yea just... Yea no I’m fine” I put my phone in between my shoulders and ear then walked back to the sink thinking of trying to bake another cake

“Okay, you’re coming over later right? Hyungs said we’ll have a little dinner party” Mark asked

“Don’t worry Lee, I’ll be there” a smile already making it’s way to my face. He really could make any day better no matter how bad it’s going. That’s just the effect Mark Lee has on people. 

Maybe that’s why people just naturally gravitate towards him, He’s so lovable and adorable without even trying. He may look like the type who doesn’t like being adored or in Yuta’s case smothered, but when there aren’t cameras around he’s really cuddly and cute. 

While listening to his story about how the guys barged into his room at exactly 12 am, I got distracted and forgot the fact that I just took the pan out of the oven. I accidentally touched it, immediately screaming in pain and dropping my phone. 

Quickly putting my injured hand under the running water, while I reach out and grabbed my phone on the floor using the uninjured one

“What was that? Are you okay?” Mark asked, there was no point in saying I was when in reality I’m two seconds away from bursting out in tears

“No, I just burned my self. Can I call you back later?” Saying a quick goodbye to him, I then assessed my hand. Seeing a bright red line across three of my fingers. 

Five minutes ago I didn’t know this day could get worse, I was apparently wrong. 

I grabbed an icepack and rested my hand on it, finally giving up on the idea of baking a cake for Mark. I walked back to the couch and slumped on the seat, some time while scrolling through my phone waiting for my hand to stop hurting I fell asleep. 

The sound of someone knocking on my door woke me up from my accidental nap. Still a bit disoriented, I walked to the door and opened it.

There a Mark Lee stood

“What are you doing here?” I asked, rubbing the sleep off of my eyes

“Came here to see you, what happened to your hand?” he asked back, I let him inside my apartment while he takes the my injured hand in his.

“Sorry I fell asleep, what time is it anyways?” I looked at the clock on the wall to see I have an hour left before I needed to go to their dorm for dinner

I looked back at Mark who was still assessing my hand, a little pout forming on his lips

“Don’t worry about me, it’s your birthday” I say while trying to pull my hand away from his grasp but he just held on tighter

“Doyoung hyung said some aloe will help with the pain, here I got some” I didn’t even the notice the bag he was holding, he set it down on the counter before taking out the medicine

“Come here” 

I don’t know why but those two words made my cheeks burn, good thing his focus was back on tending to my injured hand

“Sorry” I mumbled, this made him look at me for a second before going back to applying the medicine on my hand and then proceed to blow some air on it

“What are you saying sorry for?” 

“I don’t know, for worrying you, for ruining your birthday. I just wanted to bake you a cake” Looking down on my shoes as if it was the most interesting thing to look at, I didn’t notice how Mark stopped his actions to just stare at me.

Only when I looked back at him I noticed his intense stare, a little smile starting to creep on his face

“Is that how you injured your hand? While baking me a cake?” he asked

“Well no, I burned the cake then you called. I got distracted then accidentally touched the pan” I explained

“You didn’t have to make me a cake” he mumbled, now his hand now longer holding mine but instead he put them on my waist and pulled me closer to him

“Just wanted to do something special for you today” I told him, resting my hands on his chest while fiddling with my fingers

“Just being with you in this day makes it extra special”

I rolled my eyes at his statement, trying hard to hide the fact that my heart is about to beat out of my chest because of what he just said. Mark’s not the type to be flashy about his feelings, but when he does I feel like my world does a full 180. 

“No like for real though” he told me again, this time I let out something like a whine making him laugh at me. I just buried my face on his chest trying to hide my burning cheeks

“After all this time you’re still blushing when I say things like that”

“Glad I amuse you”

“You’re too cute, baby”

“Speaking of cute, did you like my gift?” I asked him, lifting my head from his chest to look up at him. 

“Did you really have to get me that?” he asked back

“What? It was cute, and it’s so you. Admit it”

“It was cute, but I still don’t know where to wear it”

“Uh at home? You can definitely wear it to the airport. It’s so comfortable, I might get one for myself” 

The gift was a lion onesie, I’ve been dying to see him in it. I had to stop myself from giving it earlier.

“You know I voted for farm animals for your dance practice video” I told him, I still think about how cute it would have been

“Lion isn’t a farm animal, baby” 

“I- Yea I mean- Whatever. You looked good in those pants anyways so who am I to complain” this time Mark was the one who was blushing, I just laughed at his reaction. 

“Sorry I didn’t get to bake you a cake, I’ll get you one on the way back to your dorm. But happy birthday”

“Thank you” he said with the sweetest smile on, I honestly cannot imagine my world without Mark Lee in it. I thank the heavens, well and his parents, for basically blessing us with this guy right here. He just makes this world a whole lot better.

“No, thank you. Thank you for being you, for being here. Life would suck a little  more if you weren’t here, I honestly cannot think about what it would be like without you bursting into random giggle fits” this made him laugh again

“I’m serious, hearing you that happy makes me happy. I don’t think I have ever met someone who laughs more than you do”

“You make me happy”

“This isn’t a competition, Lee Minhyung. Today is about you okay, let me smother you for today” taking his face in between my hands, I pulled him closer to me

“Happy birthday, baby. I love you” I whispered, a smile appearing on both of our faces. Before we could get any closer, a phone started to ring totally ruining the moment

It was my phone, I answered it quickly 

“Bring Mark back, it’s almost dinner time” Yuta said from the other side of the line

“No, I’m keeping him. Bye” I said then hang up, meanwhile Mark looked confused during the whole exchange through the phone

“We need to go, Yuta might start to haunt me down if we don’t go back. And I’m getting you a cake.”

[ofstarsandfireflies]

I’ve had this half complete for many, many months now, stuck in writer’s block hell, much like the fic I’m working on at this moment.

These movie nights have been a great way to just write whatever comes to mind and brute force my way out of writer’s block 😊

Stephen had realised that Tony was always in danger with him long before he’d decided to do this.

He always gets hurt and one day he's going to get killed all because he was too stubborn to stay behind when Stephen told him to.

So he does the only thing he can do.

He wipes Tony's memory and lets him start anew.

And then, some years later, their eyes meet.

Stephen stared at those brown eyes he had loved waking up to every morning.

What was he doing here?

They didn't recognise him, which he was grateful for, but they were staring at him.

And he was staring back.

The man they belonged to walked up to him and Stephen contemplated making a portal and getting out of there.

He had cast that spell for a reason.

It had been about 3 years since he’d erased Tony Stark's memories of him from that brilliant mind.

Three years of making sure he was wherever Tony Stark, or his Iron Man suit or his Avengers group, wasn't.

Three years of keeping all that wanted to hurt Tony at bay so the man could live a normal life.

And now here he was after Stephen had just destroyed the entity which had escaped its own dimension, in his Ironman suit, so close Stephen could make the slightest movement and be touching him.

Those eyes were narrowed now, and Stephen could see the questions swimming in their depths.

And then Tony introduced himself and Stephen felt like he was about to burst into flames.

How he had missed that voice.

Something shifted in Tony's features when Stephen told him his name.

As if he recognised his name.

But that couldn’t be right.

Tony shouldn’t recognise anything associated with him at all.

His heart was in his throat as Tony tried to place him.

It was no use, Stephen knew that, but…

Had Tony blinked yet?

Had he blinked yet?

Tony's mouth opened again and Stephen quickly turned away and began conjuring a portal.

The faster he got out of here the better.

He shouldn't have allowed that entity to escape in the first place.

He walked through the portal just as Tony flew through it after him, grabbing his shoulder.

And just like that, Stephen was reliving all the fights they'd previously had about Tony's recklessness to dive head first into portals and danger.

Stephen could not believe it.

3 years and nothing had changed between them.

But those 3 years were worth it.

Tony had lived for an extra 3 years.

Saying a short dismissive goodbye, Stephen created another portal and threw it at Tony, watching him disappear.

He couldn't drag Tony back into this life again.

He couldn't fight beside him again, patch him up again, make a portal to the hospital while he bled to death in his arms again.

He loved him too much to be the cause of his pain again.

Stephen rubbed his eyes as they prickled with tears.

He had to let him go. It was the best for Tony.

He took a deep breath and had just started climbing the stairs when the door banged open and Tony Stark walked in without his Iron Man armour and looking pissed.

Stephen stared at him.

How on earth had he found him again so quickly?

Tony stepped closer to him and Stephen felt his entire body break out in a cold sweat, every hair standing on end.

Tony opened his mouth and asked him a single question.

How had Stephen known to send him to his bedroom in the Avengers Compound, when Stpehen had never been there?

Stephen did what?

They stared at one another, Tony repeatedly asking him who he was.

Stephen wanted to tell him.

God he wanted to do a lot of things with Tony standing here before him looking so lost and hurt and kissable.

But how could he?

Stephen closed his eyes and shook his head,Tony's voice breaking as he demanded answers, Stephen's arms shaking with the want to hold the man who belonged in them.

He had to rewind time.

Rewind back to before Tony came in or hell even to before their eyes found each other!

He opens the eye of Agamoto and Tony's hand suddenly clamps down on his wrist.

Tony looks just as shocked as he does.

"You were...you were gonna...you..." Tony was confused. What exactly was it he was going to do? And why had he stopped him?

The hand gripping his wrist was shaking.

Stephen knew he shouldn't tell him, knew he should push Tony away, make him never want to see him again.

He knew he should.

But he couldn't.

Tony was looking at him, pleading him for answers, and Stephen found himself drowning in those eyes.

His free hand took Tony's and pulled him in closer, and Tony allowed him to.

Stephen brought his hand up to Tony's face, running his thumb over his cheek.

He was inching closer to Tony's lips, licking his own.

The last time he had kissed them was goodbye before he'd ripped himself from Tony's life.

He could feel Tony's shuddering breath against his lips as Tony closed his eyes and Strange leant in the rest of the way and kissed him.

Tony suddenly grabbed his robes and held him, Stephen feeling the mouth against his own lift into a smile as he held Tony closer, his tongue licking those lips for entry.

Tony opened his mouth and Stephen groaned, shoving Tony against the wall, pressing his leg between Tony's as his fingers pushed under the shirt to touch at the skin they knew so well.

Tony moaned again as Stephen moved his lips to his neck, nipping and kissing the skin, feeling Tony's chest shudder with each breath he took.

His hands skimmed down the firm chest, touching scars both new and old, his name a single breath between them.

God, Stephen wasn’t going to be able to hold on to the little self control he had when it came to Tony for much longer if he kept saying his name like that.

So, he stopped, and leant his forehead against Tony's, wondering whether now would be a good time to apologise, wondering what he did to deserve Tony's love, even without his memories.

He should pull away.

He should stop this.

He had stopped this three years ago, and this wasn’t good for either of them.

But Tony was clinging to him so tightly, as if making sure he couldn’t leave.

And he was warm.

So warm he didn’t want to leave.

Quotes -

“Random thoughts on Valentine’s Day, 2004. Today is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.”

Tony’s inner monologue

“Do I know you? Do you ever shop at Barnes and Noble?”

“Sure. Yeah.”

“That’s it! I’ve seen you, man!”

Tony trying to place Stephen.

“It’s a pretty name though, really is nice. It’s uh, it means merciful, right? Uh, clemency.”

“Although it hardly fits. I’m a vindictive little bitch truth be told.”

“See, I wouldn’t think that about you.”

“Why wouldn’t you think that about me?”

“I don’t know I just…I-I don’t know I just uh…you see nice so…”

“Oh, now I’m nice? God, don’t you know any other adjectives? I don’t need nice. I don’t need myself to be it and I don’t need anyone else to be it at me.”

A conversation shortly after their meeting.

“You’re not a stalker or anything, right?”

“I’m not a stalker. You’re the one that talked to me, remember?”

“That is the oldest trick in the stalker book.”

Tony wondering about Stephen.

A Time for Us

No matter how hard you try, you can’t completely erase someone you love from your heart.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15

Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20

Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24 Day 25

Day 26

[evening-starlight]

Chances {Chapter Eleven}

I lied, this is the longest chapter. They just keep getting longer ya’ll

Master List

Comfortable, Not Easy

Word Count: 2010

    I spent the next two weeks avoiding everyone and everything thing, especially after I slipped and invited Jared over. Not my proudest moment. Robbie dropped by a couple of times to coax me out of bed, but it didn't work. I felt dirty, used, and stupid. I called Jared after he assaulted me in front of my house like a whore and let him stay over for nine days.

    It wasn't necessarily comfortable being with Jared for nine days, but it was familiar. I knew what to expect from waking up to going to bed. Tom was texting to check in as well, and I ignored every sweet text he sent me. I couldn't face the fact that he was there, waiting for me to recoup while I was living with my ex again.

    Robbie finally kicked Jared out on day ten for me. I told him about the kisses and how horrible I felt letting Jared stay on day nine. Jared was gone before I woke up, and Robbie was trying to pull me out of bed. Literally.

    Robbie pulls on my ankle repeatedly, trying to loosen my hold on the headboard. "Come," pull. "On." He pulls again. "You can't stay locked in your room because you've made a mistake, Stella." He scolds, sitting next to my feet. I grunt in response. "I swear to all things LA, I will make Stevie do a house call." I moan louder, pulling a pillow over my head. The space next to me dips down, and Robbie throws an arm over me.

    Whenever I'm in a lousy mood, Robbie's first response is forceful eviction of my room followed by snuggles. If either won't work, he calls Stevie. In our ten years of friendship, he's gotten to know me inside and out. He's my closest friend and my most relied-on confidant. He knows more about me than anyone else in the world. He knows the darkest places in my head and knows how to help me navigate them better than myself. He was the only one who was there during my entire marriage and divorce. Hell, he was my bro of honor.

    I turn to lay on his chest, curling in to feel his warmth and wrapping my arms around him so tight I thought he'd turn purple. I never, ever, want to lose him. "I hate seeing you like this, Stell." He mumbles. "You're so hard on yourself. I know it's easy with Jared; you guys have a routine. He's easy, and Tom is hard. I understand why you did what you did." The sobs rip out of me in violent bursts. I hate how well he knows me some days, especially when he says things I know I need to hear.

    He remains quiet as I sob, rubbing my head and holding me tight. He's the rock in my twisted life, and I'd be lost without him. Robbie makes me feel seen, heard, and appreciated even after my undesirable days.

    When the sobs turn into small whimpers, Robbie continues, "I think you need to talk to Tom; he's genuinely worried for you. He's dropped by the studio to ask about you. God, you should have seen him, Stella. He's a fucking god. Don't even get me started on those eyes dude, they're so blue." I can't help but laugh at Robbie's fanboying. "They hold so many emotions I didn't know they could do that. He looked so worried and concerned. He really cares about you."

    "I know he does." I manage. "I just don't want to bring him into this fucked up life I've created for myself. He deserves so much better." Robbie sits up quickly, grabbing my face to look at him. His eyebrows are pulled together, and his face is set in a stern look. His father look.

    "You deserve better, Stella Thompson. You deserve a man like Tom. You deserve Jesus himself for all I care. You need someone who will treat you ten times better than Jared ever could. Someone who loves and cherishes you as you are, broken, sharp pieces and all." Robbie runs a thumb over the new tears leaking. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, Stella. You care so deeply about people that you let them continue to be in your life even after they've fucked you over a dozen times. Stella, you deserve to start over with someone like Tom."

    I swear to God, the universe was listening to us because, as if divine intervention stepped in, my phone begins to buzz on the nightstand. Robbie reaches to hang up before going over the name again. "Here. Talk to him. I'll make you some food." With that, Robbie leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

    With a grounding breath, I answer the phone with a meek hello. "Oh, thank heavens you're okay." Tom breaths out a sigh of relief on the other side of the phone. "I was beginning to worry. More. Worry more than I already was."

    "I'm sorry I scared you," I mumble. "And I'm sorry I've been MIA for so long. It's been a really rough two weeks after everything happened, and I tend to shut down when things get hard." I admit, brushing my mangled hair out of my face.

    "I understand, Love. We all have bad habits. I was worried I had pushed too hard, and you were ghosting me. I was actually going to call and tell you I would give you some space if you hadn't picked up. I can still give you space if that's what you'd like?"

    "No," I answer quickly. "No, please. I really like having you in my life, and I love the way you make me feel. But I have to tell you that Jared spent the week with me. It doesn't mean anything. He's just..." I pause, trying to find the right words to make my asshole move sound less assholey.

    "Easy. You're used to him. I understand that, Love." I take in a shaky breath. "I appreciate you telling me. Is there anything I can do to help with your rut?"

    "Can you come over sometime today? I could kinda use a hug from you." Fucking crying making my defenses turn to mush. It always makes me a ball of emotions and fussy needs.

    "I'd be delighted to. Would you like me to bring some lunch?"

    "No, Robbie is here making me some. You called at the perfect time, actually. We were talking about you. Everything good, though. Nothing bad." I reiterate quickly. Tom chuckles on the other end.

    "Well, I was just thinking about you and hoping you were at least alive."

    "The heart's still ticking, so the body is alive," I joke. "Brain could use a jumpstart, though."

    "I'll be over in about ten if that's alright with you?" I confirm with him and hang up. Pulling myself out of bed for the first time in fourteen days, I make my way to the kitchen.

    Robbie stands over the stove, cursing and shaking his left hand. "Burned yourself again?" I ask. If you'd lose a year off your life every time you got burnt, Robbie would have died at age five.

    "Fuck off." He mumbles, going back to the grilled cheese he's making. "How'd the call go? It seemed pretty short." I nod as I sit on a barstool.

    "Fine, he's coming over in a few minutes." It hits me. Tom Hiddleston is coming over to my depression pit of a house after I've had two weeks of nonstop crying and zero hygiene. "Fuck, I need to shower." I curse, rushing to the bathroom. A quick shower will help everything. Hopefully.

    Robbie pokes his head into the bathroom as I wrap my towel around me. "Tom's here. I'm going to keep him company while you  get changed." He states before winking and shutting the door again. I don't feel like I have the energy to put on any form of makeup to cover up how deathly ill I look, nor the power to care what I look like besides the clean part. The shower did seem to wash away the residual guilt and shame I felt about everything. Though it didn't clean off everything.

    After changing into some comfortable clothes, I make my way into the living room, where Robbie is watching Tom talk with nothing less than homosexual love in his face. "Robbie, out," I demand, catching both boys' attention. He leaves after a quick goodbye and non-discrete wink.

    Tom walks over to meet me behind the couch, wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're doing better," He mumbles into my hair. "I've been worried." We stand like that for a few minutes before my stomach growls loud enough for him to hear. "Here, Robbie left your food on the table." Tom leads me to the couch and sits next to me, our legs touching.

    "Thank you for being so understanding, Tom. I know I'm pretty fucked, and I really appreciate you being understanding of it all." He smiles as I take a bite of the grilled cheese. Robbie should be made grilled cheese God the way it melts in my mouth.

    "Of course, Love. We are all pretty fucked when we think about it. I haven't felt this way in quite some time. I know I can be a bit pushy, but I really enjoy your company," Tom says, sending those all-too-familiar shivers down my spine. "We can take things as slowly as you'd like. We can stay friends if that's what you need to heal as well." I shake my head while finishing a bite.

    "I don't want just friends, Tom. You make me feel like a better version of me. Less dark and gloomy." The anxiety of actually communicating and talking about feelings causes my knee to bounce. Jared never let me talk so candidly, and I'm afraid I might overstep. "Can I be honest?" Tom nods quickly. "I have absolutely no idea how to communicate in a not toxic way.

    "My whole life, it's been demonstrated that yelling and cursing is the only way to get across what I'm feeling. What I do know is that I like who I am when I'm around you, and I don't want that feeling to ever stop." Tom presses a kiss on my forehead.

    "Then let us work it out together. I like who I am when I'm with you as well." The absolute zoo that took residence in my stomach could wipe out the entire human population. Tom motherfucking Hiddleston likes being with me. "Bloody hell, I fancy you, Stella."

    Tom chuckles as I start to choke on my own breath. He reaches for the Caprisun set out and hands it to me. Tom likes me. He like likes me. Tom Hiddleston. Who would have guessed my damaged ass would land someone like him.

    For years after my breakup with Jared, I thought all I deserved was heartbreak and pieces of shit men. Maybe I could really turn my life around here. Turn it into something wonderful and perfect. Something made just for me.

    "I, uh, I fancy you too, Tom," I admit after controlling my breathing. His smile in this exact moment will stay with me forever. No ill-meaning behind it, wide and bright, and absolutely dazzling. Tom was as close to perfect as one man could get.

    The kiss. The kiss that followed behind our confessions was just as magical, if not more magical, than the first. Only this time, there was no Jared to ruin it. It was just Tom, me, and the ugly off-white sofa I stole from Jared when I moved out.

    How do you even end a chapter after that? Like, I impressed myself with that shit. We still own that couch too. It's where our little love story started, truly. I mean, no, we didn't go exclusive at that moment, but it's where it began.