#WC family tree fixes

[bonefall]

For context with Floatshimmer she is an 11 moon old, with kits.

goddddddd I just looked at the allegiances, trying DESPERATELY not to get sidetracked so I finish Star before the winds of my mental disorder pick me up and plop me down on a totally different task than the one I'm trying to do,

BUT

Lord it's bad. It's BEE-AY-D BAD. They didn't just make Moonpaw's parentage terrible, almost every choice (besides the expected Night/Sun and Blaze/Light litters) is weird in some way

We've got some new Orphan Warriors in the form of Fluffpaw and Silkypaw in WindClan, and Sprucepaw and Redpaw in ShadowClan.

Floatshimmer was just born 2 books ago, and is a mother as soon as Changing Skies opens up.

Breezepelt's daughter, Appleshine, now has Rustlekit and Stretchkit, making him a grandfather (not the weirdest thing I guess, considering how many descendants Lionblaze has... but still feels odd.)

Rootspring's sister, Needleclaw, now unceremoniously has Starlingkit and Robinkit in spite of having zero insight to who her potential mate is. EDIT: It's Kitescratch. Her first cousin once removed, a character I can't remember her hanging out with. Wasn't Kite one of Root's bullies

BOTH Myrtlebloom and Bayshine, siblings, are having kittens at the exact same time, and the Erins are really bad at remembering first cousins. I'm having That's So Raven visions into the future of shiptease between Moonpaw and Oak/Sun/Hazel and I'm practically setting up the plot hijinks of the sitcom episode hurling myself into action to try and prevent it

SOME CURSORY THOUGHTS TO HOW I'M GONNA FIX IT;

Orphan Warriors are easy for me to fix, I'll just link them up to some existing families. I guess now's a good time to casually drop that BB!ASC is going to end with the canonical "exodus" of several RiverClan cats, so I'm probably going to have both Silky/Fluff and Spruce/Red be fathered by RiverClan migrants.

Floatshimmer is waaaay too young to be having kits, even by canon's standards, but in BB cats start to have kits around 3-ish. I'm not sure if teenage pregnancy is a thing I feel personally comfortable tackling at this point in time, so I might shuffle her, OR take her kits and "hold on" to them so they get born later. Unsure.

I think Peepaw Breezepelt might just feel odd to me because of BB stuff, since he has his first litter with Harestar and Heathertail after BB!OotS. I'll probably end up shuffling Rustle/Stretch to Heathertail's half-brother, Galerunner, but include a little line or something about Breezy-P and The Polycule starting to feel old.

Needlekits......... hm. I could be tempted for the vibe that Needle had kids on accident and Rootspring is stepping in as an uncle parental figure... but ALSO I like the idea a LOT of Rootspring adopting kids one day. I might make them become Root's adopted kids. EDIT: Kitescratch being FCOR is putting the canon pairing in range of Onestar's Exception, so Needleclaw's litter is now even MORE likely to change.

Light's litter with Blaze is expected, that can stay unchanged, though I am starting to consider how to fix the way her character arc was more of a character stumble.

What I'm planning with Sunbeam's litter I can't tell you yet. Not because I don't know what I'm doing with it, but because I love it a lot and I'm grinning just thinking about revealing it. But you can't have it yet. I gotta finish Star. You don't get to know until I finish Star :))))

[exocynraku]

So tempted to make a warrior cats rewrite Im So tempted

[silliest-mothpaw]

I don't know if someone has already asked for him yet but Jayfeather? Or maybe Ivypool?

Ivypool!

Notes :3

Same colours as birchfall but slightly greyer

The big marking is an ivy leaf

All cats that have gone through the darkforest get white dots on their ears, you’ll notice that if you look at any of my df designs

Butch lesbian

Cuts off her mane to avoid looking like hawkfrost

In another life she’s called ivyclaw </3

[nightly-ruse]

Okay I don’t know how to keep the changes to my tree but here it is! While I know there’s probably cats I’m missing there’s 460 so far. A lot of changes. In my version I have the colors different and names bigger but for some reason they don’t stay for people who click the link to see it. If I figure out how to fix it then I will but for now idk what to do

These are my settings so if your looking at the tree change them to this for a wayyyy better viewing experience

Lots of name changes just scroll through the cats to find them

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader

Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 475

A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!

Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.

The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.

As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.

Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.

As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.

You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.

As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.

“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.

You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.

Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”

One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.

“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”

As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.

You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.

“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.

Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.

The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”

As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.

yourusername

Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others

👶🍼💗💋🧸

view all comments

jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️

↘️ yourusername: 💗

caileespaeny: aweee

sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭

↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!

↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃

↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.

user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child

user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂

↘️ user5: RIGHT!

↘️ user6: oh for sure.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the handyman

pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader

cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read

summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.

a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant

join my taglist!

wc: 2k

You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.

“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.

He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”

“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”

“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”

“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.

“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“She’s been talking about me?”

“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”

“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things?”

“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”

“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”

“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.

“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.

He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.

He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“Should she be?”

“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”

“It’s supposed to beep.”

You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.

“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”

“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”

His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.

“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.

“I thought…”

“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.

“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.

The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.

Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.

“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”

Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.

“We don’t have any beer.”

“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”

“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”

“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”

“It does.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”

“I didn’t know they were yours.”

“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”

“No,” you admit weakly.

“Come here.”

You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.

“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”

Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.

“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”

“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”

For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.

With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.

You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.

There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.

You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”

“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”

You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.

“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.

“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”

He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.

“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”

You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.

His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”

While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yeah, I am… wet.”

“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”

“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.

“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”

With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.

Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.

A single word: “Daddy…”

“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”

He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.

But when he takes them away, you cry.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”

Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.

Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.

The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.

You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.

Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.

Euphemistically, speaking.

In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”

And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.

He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.

“Yours, daddy!”

His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.

He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.

You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.

“Did you not learn anything from today?”

“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.

Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.5k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“So did the other two actually say no or did you just never invite them?”

“‘Course I invited them, you asked me to, so I did.” Simon replies with ease, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “They’re smart lads, lovie, they knew to say no all by themselves.”

You shake your head at him in disbelief but the smile that’s been plastered across your face ever since the two of you pulled out of your flat’s parking doesn’t budge. Simon’s been driving for a few hours now, and as stressful of an experience as that is alone, you’re too excited to mind the long journey in the car.

Simon is on leave for the next two weeks, something about Price having to attend a funeral following a death in the family, and deciding that everyone on the force was due for a bit of time off. Seeing as the Captain was going to be preoccupied during his time off duty, he had asked if Simon wouldn’t mind checking in on his house for him, making sure things were alright. He’d even offered for the two of you to stay in the guest room for the duration of their leave.

Simon had explained how Price knew that the two of you were living in a small flat in London, and apparently his home was in a beautiful, forested, isolated area which meant he had essentially no neighbours, something he also knew would appeal to Simon. He offered for the two of you to stretch your legs out there at enjoy the property, including the privacy that came with it.

Wanting to be polite, you’d told Simon he should extend the invitation to Soap and Gaz, thinking they might enjoy a nice, quiet stay-cation as well at their Captain’s place away from it all. It would appear your lover had different ideas in mind however. Though you couldn’t blame him entirely, the thought of having the cozy cabin all to yourselves was certainly more appealing.

Every which way you look outside the car, your vision is filled by endless blurry trees as you zoom by, the colours of the leaves having finally changed into the warmer, more vibrant colour palette that came along with the autumn chill. If the drive up to his property was any indication of how beautiful the area really was, then you were in for quite the treat.

Entranced by the beauty of the landscape in comparison to the city lights you’ve grown so used to, you fail to notice the glances Simon keeps sneaking your way, the smallest of satisfied smiles seemingly permanently etched upon his face beneath his balaclava. He was grateful that after explaining the situation and Price’s generous offer to you, you had been too excited to ask many questions, instead getting a jump start on packing a duffel bag or two.

You were one of the most intelligent, clever, curious people he’d ever known, and it was normally quite difficult to get anything by you. He was therefore feeling rightfully proud of himself as he drove you nearer and nearer to the home you believed belonged to his Captain. In actuality, there was no funeral for Price to attend, the sergeants had certainly not been invited along on your getaway, and the home you’d be staying in wasn’t Price’s.

It was yours.

Yours, and Simon’s.

The two of you had been living in that shoebox of a flat he’d considered as ‘satisfactory’ when he was only staying there as a bachelor, for far too long. As ideal as the location might have been, there simply just wasn’t enough space for two people to live together, even considering Simon’s absences for work and that fact that when he was home, you two were essentially always on top of one another anyways.

You’d both been searching for a new flat for what felt like ages now, none of the places you visited feeling like the right fit. Simon would be weary about a certain neighborhood, you’d be concerned with the lack of any balcony or outdoor space, he’d ignore the price tag that felt your eyes bulging, and you’d shake your head as you walked through doorways that had him needing to duck down.

Little did you know, Simon had been doing his own house hunting, outside of the city. You had told Simon you were fine with staying in London, understanding that it’s convenient to have everything near by. But Simon didn’t want to give you just ‘fine’. He wanted to give you a home. The home he intends to spend the rest of his life with you in, plans on carrying you over the threshold in your wedding dress, hopes to carry sleeping newborns in their car seats through the door.

For months now, Simon has subtlety been learning more about what that home looked like to you. He’d look over your shoulder as you scrolled through Pinterest, casually asking if you could show him your boards, you know just for fun, and paid very close attention when you showed him the one named ‘future house’. On his phone, he had a list a mile long in his notes app, from secretly writing down every comment you made while watching your home reno shows. He’ll casually ask you what you think of the houses you drive by, jotting down your answers in his mind, remembering likes and dislikes.

He believes that like you, it’s the people filling the home that matter more than the structure itself, as proven by the way you continue to put up with his minuscule flat. He knows you mean it when you say you’re alright with another flat. But he has the money goddammit, he has the means to do this for you, and when the listing came up for a home in what you’d revealed as being your ideal area to settle down in one day, the house resembling the amalgamation of everything he believed you’d described as being your perfect place, he knew he had to put an offer in.

And if there ever was anything about the house you didn’t like or wanted to change, he’d gladly do it for you, no questions asked. You want to paint the bedroom? Just tell him what colour you want. You want to change the railing on the wrap around porch? He’s on his way to the hardware store already. You need him to dig a stump out of the backyard to make room for your garden? Sit back and enjoy the show lovie, he’s on it. And when the time comes to build a crib? Well he may as well baby proof the whole house while he’s at it too.

He’s pictured your reaction a thousand times over in his mind. He imagines you’ll maybe give a small gasp when he turns the corner of the long driveway and you first see the cozy, two-storey home, surrounded by never-ending foliage of red, orange, and yellow leaves, the time of year perfect for appreciating autumn in the UK, as well as the privacy the tall trees grant you. He thinks the first thing you’ll comment on will likely be the windows, an item high on your priority list he knew to adhere to.

He imagines you kicking off your boots as you step through the door, pace quickening to explore every room, spinning in the kitchen as you joke about how jealous you are of Price. He pictures you groaning with envy when you spot your dream master bathroom, insisting to Simon that since you’d been tasked with checking in on the home you may as well see every room, right? He plans to explain away the obvious sparseness of the home as the Captain not having lived here long, as being very non-materialistic after all his years in service.

He’ll continue to play along for as long as he can, part of him knowing that you know him well enough that you’re likely to catch onto his deception at some point. However he hopes that before you start rummaging through kitchen cabinets and find them empty, too empty even for an absentee captain of a homeowner, that you’ll mention something along the lines of wishing you could stay here longer. That’s when he plans to slip a key into the palm of your hand, revealing that you might be able to stay longer than you believe.

The small piece of metal that’ll unlock the rest of your lives together, sits heavy in his pocket, in contrast to the light feeling in his heart when his hand reaches across the dashboard to grab a hold of yours, knowing that the content, lovesick smile you offer him is likely stretched across his face as well, staring right back at you.

Though you’re unaware that Simon is currently driving towards your home, and not away from it, you’re gently stroking the scarred skin across his hand, feeling as though your home is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and your heart at the same time.

[bambiesfics]

⊹ Tag! you’re it. ⊹

(5k wc!)

| SNEAK PEEK: “Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black Nula rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

⊹ SUMMARY: The concept was simple really. It’s quite literally in the title of this fic. I’m sure you’re smart, reader. So I’m also sure you can deduce what she’s going to make you do. But in the rare chance you’re not that bright, I’ll help and spell it out for you.

You…need…to…run.

⊹ WARNINGS: Predator/prey kink. Strap-on use (reader receiving). Outdoor sex, very rough sex, mean as fuck!Dom Ellie, dacryphilia, ass-smacking, black-out, use of “cock” and “dick” and is referred to as Ellie’s, and other things you’ll have to read to see.

⊹ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Minors & puritans this is not the fic for you. Everyone else: make sure you read this at home. This is genuinely, not safe for work (or school!)

The truck skidded to a stop.

The acridness of burnt rubber twisted its way up your nose, reflexively making you scrunch. The russet haired brunette pulled the keys out of the ignition and slammed the truck's door shut. Her black converses made imprints onto the soft earth.

They were just a few of the many tracks to come.

The slam of the GMC door was like a boom in your head, yelling ‘WAKE UP!’

Laid beyond the car window was a terrifying picture of nature. The forest seemed like rows of shark’s teeth; jagged and everlong. Up along the bank, a crowded family of dark green spruce trees were huddled. Mottled like flecks against the horizon. Nothing could be seen but the green overlaid on top of the clear sky. The trees circumferenced along the bank like a protective dome, surrounding the truck.

This was her idea.

The brunette circled the clearing, her bangs blew softly in the wind. She fixed the M-11 sniper across her back, pulling the dual tabs of her corset webbing to tighten it to her torso. The NULA sniper was heavy. A matte black gun with a wide eyed scope. It was Ellie’s favorite. For hunting; both people and game.

Your girlfriend had known for several years that she’d never be a fan of small firearms. She reveled in the kickback of a sniper.

Firearms.

Running.

Rifle.

Chasing.

Polaroids of memory flooded your thoughts. Snapshots of Ellie pleading relentlessly to convince you to let her use you. Use your adrenaline and terror to scratch a deep deep itch within her. Like a flea ridden dog, your girlfriend had a parasite. And the parasite was the chase. It was a primal itch. One that’d been there since she was a younger girl. It teased along the blurred edges of sociopathy and sexuality.

If you’d really paid attention, you would’ve noticed that Ellie was a little…off. There was an aggression that ran congruent with her boyish teasing and fighting. An intuitive itch at the back of your brain often concluded that Ellie had always wanted to bend your arm back a little bit deeper during play fights. Because she too often enjoyed how quickly your laugh crumpled into yelps.

She’d let out a sudden chuckle during really tense moments, but you were subtly aware that Ellie could, and slyly tried, to get a bit more intense with the floor pinning, with the wall traps, with her power plays. And you suspected she liked it.

Ellie was an awe-inspiring girlfriend, so caring and so sweet; so tender. But you still couldn’t gauge where that hidden characteristic in her temperament came from.

Just how far would she really want to take it?

The surface tension of those memories rippled into obscurity like disturbed water. Leaving you to face the bitter nip of the cool air, and the earthy pine notes that carried itself on the wind.

Ellie had been spending her time studying you from across the distance. Trying to pick apart your thoughts from your micro-expressions. She debated on if the little crease between your brow was tense fear, or if it was exhaustion. Common sense advised her that it was exhaustion; you two had only come out here just an hour after dawn, naturally you’d feel drowsy or irate.

And that pleased her.

Tired would work in her favor. Tired would make you sloppy.

Ellie stepped deeper into the clearing. From your position in the passenger seat, you could see her attempt to feel for the direction of the wind, noting which direction it was blowing her hair. She used the sweep of the wind’s blow on her hair to navigate the direction of which path, in the dense forest, would give her the least resistance.

She planned to avoid that path.

She didn’t want this to be easy.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t have too. Ellie turned around slowly and rooted her feet into the soil. In spite of the distance, her gaze was piercing. She didn’t need to shout, but it was finally time to remove yourself from the safety of the truck.

You steadied yourself on the inside of the door, and used the pane to brace your knees before you dropped from out of the truck.

The sun was a high, white gold. Planting an opalescent sheen on the forest underbrush. It grew brighter and warmer the further behind you left the truck.

Towering above the underbrush, were thick alpine trees; the young and the old. Some of them were beyond being old, and were solidly antiquated. Likely as old as the entire forest itself.

Those alpines were the type of old that’d existed in that forest longer than Jackson town. The type of trees that had seen things not a soul nor an eye would have witnessed. Things, no history book had dared to make a record of.

And today, they saw you.

The sun was shining in her eyes. And she returned back to it her own venomous gaze.

Ellie’s ink moth tattoo moved each time her fingers steadied themselves on the bony juts of her hips. Her evergreen eyes blinked back down to study you once more.

In your timid mannerisms she microdosed on the pleasure of the run to come.

Your back straightened at her voice.

“To set this off, I ran the path six times since last sunday. Shouldn’t take you no longer than ten minutes, fifteen at your slowest. You take twenty minutes, and I come looking for you. Got that?”

Her eyes thinned, then relaxed.

“We’ve done similar patrols around the west wing of Jackson.”

“Like the group patrols and stuff right?”

Your answer was less than stellar.

She itched to grin at your reply, but killed it. Schooling her features back into a placid poker face. “Yeah sure. Those’ll definitely prepare you for today.”

Ellie started stalking behind you now. Eyeing the shoes you chose, how you shifted your weight from leg to leg, how your sleeves were longer than your fingers, and how your fingers fidgeted with its hem.

She pulled back from you. She pressed herself deeper into the gray and dull overcast from the trees. Shadowed by their height and mass, she shouted.

“You get a 120 second head start!”

The air was electric, like power lines running above you. Your fingers twitched, and your stomach tightened. And like a firing gun shooting into the air, she growled.

“RUN!”

Your feet pounded at the earth as your skin braced the whipping wind. Jackson’s forest was miles upon piles of jade. It was a claustrophobic cornucopia of trees. The underbrush scraped your legs with each step you took on the illuminated path of the forest floor. Light speckled from the patterned leaves above you, it looked like a kaleidoscopic.

The earth beneath your shoes was beaten flat from the steps of hikers and runners long before you ever came sprinting down. You’d hiked this path, but hiking and sprinting were light years apart. And the staggering imbalance of the terrain was sending shock waves up your legs. You braced it, a mantra looping in your head like your very life depended on.

Just run.

Your breaths were starting to sound heavier and heavier. Worsened by the regret that was creeping up all the same. Jackson had a system of 5am running patrols that were outlined by Maria on the town’s bulletin. Patrols that you could’ve put your name down for. Ellie did them often, just a short lap around Jacksons gates. She always told you it was only “15 minutes tops”, yet you always regarded that time as an extra 15 minutes to sleep in. Realization dawned on you just as quick as your feet turned around a large spruce tree.

That 15 minutes of running truly did add up.

Just run.

A climbing crescendo of snapped twigs and rustling leaves was all that could be heard whipping about. Louder and louder. Heavier and heavier. An orchestra of sounds; of your heartbeat. Of a burning pain from a persons forceful sprint. Someone was panting, fighting, clawing their way out of Jackson’s forest. You were the someone, but your legs were growing tired.

Your calves were burning as your pace increased, the ache was clawing into the muscles in your lower legs like hot iron. The pain bloomed into your thighs and coiled itself into the pit of your lower belly. It left your breath wheezing and dry.

Sweat broke out on your hairline. Perspiration that would drip down to sting your eyes if you didn’t get home in time. You needed to get home fast. Just as long as you got there before her. Just as long as you beat Ellie to Jackson’s gates, you’d be fine.

All you could do was just run.

You slowed to a stop and cleared a log, you straddled it, holding the large body to steady yourself, before swinging your leg off and hopping back onto the ground. You weren’t nimble. Your girlfriend would’ve cleared the trunk with just the push of her left arm. But you were desperate, anything to not be her prey.

Just run.

Your ears picked up on it, before your brain could process it. The sound was unmistakable. Those were Ellie’s footsteps.

Clearing the log had closed the space between you. This chase was a burning thread. Growing shorter as the distance between you two also grew shorter. Ellies footsteps sounded heavier, more hurried. She could finally hear you too.

You pushed past the haze of pain and ran out of the forest, onto the rocky asphalt in front of the abandoned highway. You slid down the ditch, scraping your palms along before tumbling into a shaky sprint. The abandoned cars in the ditch were as much obstacles as they were protection. But up ahead, growing bigger with every step, were the gates; pillars of protection and strength.

The same voice whispered sharply into your concious, reminding you to

just run.

The only caveat was that Ellie’s conscience was telling her the

exact same thing.

She was behind you. But you couldn’t care where or how far Ellie was. You’d deduced that the strewn jagged pebbles had slowed her down. Converses didn’t work nearly as well on rocky terrain. The rhombus sole could tightly pack gravel and pebbles inside of it, which made for an uneven run.

Jackson’s steep wood gates appeared even larger. A good — no — a great thing. To be dwarfed by Jackson’s gates meant that you were near them. Nearer to the town than you had been a mere minute ago; yet again, still with no Ellie in tow.

You relaxed your sprint into a cursory jog. The relief that coursed through you was electrifying. A tired grin threatened to leap off your face. You were burning, but the chase wasn’t nearly as hard as you had suspected it to be, and for that your nervous system was flooded with relief.

You were so close. Just a few more steps and the lap would be cleared.

Ellie shouldn’t have given you that head start. Jesus, that girl could be so arrogant.

The dual gates were close enough to feel their shade. You took another deep breath, and stretched your arms out. The breeze cooled your skin. The relief from the concluded chase blew a spirit of new life into you. You were done! you had won Ellie’s sick little game of tag.

Now, what you would give to head down to the tavern and ask for a mug of sweet tea and some soft brea—

—Ellie slammed into you, crumpling you to the ground. A tiny yelp ripped out of you like a pathetic puppy. She dug her elbow into the small of your back to put you down, before switching tactics. She instead chose to slide her hand up and grip the back of your neck. She shoved your face into the ground. Holding you down in submission.

“Tag. you’re it.” She giggled.

Your shocked scream was muffled by the ground. Like some hunted doe, only your eyes could communicate. And they strained painfully to the right, hoping to see what the hunter was doing. The pain in the base of your spine ebbed as Ellie removed the puncture of her left knee from your back. She dropped into a crouch. But her hands slid down your back, then down your thighs, then to your knees where she gripped the sides of the joints and forcefully shoved them apart.

In the quiet of the dawn, you were more than a sight to see. You were a picture of desire to drink in, and a terrifying desperation possessed Ellie.

You should’ve ran faster.

Ellie inched all ten knuckles under the band of your jeans, she struggled to shove down your pants and underwear, grunting curses under her breath.

“No way in hell you were convinced you actually had a chance to win against me. I don’t think you realize how much I had to hold myself back. Couldn't let it be that easy for myself.”

Your breath came out ragged.

Ellie loved that.

She barely managed to shove the waist of your pants underneath the crease of your ass cheeks. But seeing as what she managed left her with just the necessary amount of space she needed to work with, it was certainly good enough.

“Honest question.” She paused for a moment and surveyed you. Her hand curled in the air “just to get this straight, were you jogging the entire lap or were you actually sprinting it? I just couldn’t tell.” She mocked.

The sneer her lips curled into was wicked.

But her violence even moreso.

Ellie slapped your ass harshly, intently drinking in the recoil. You yelped and jerked across the dirt. She lunged across to clamp the back of your neck, eyes piercing.

“Stay.”

The sound of a zipper being pulled down made you struggle in her grasp. Your head was scrambling from side to side to better see her. Picking up strewn leaves to tickle the bottom of your lips.

Ellie was having none of it. The fist on your neck squeezed tighter.

She tsk’d next to your ear, your first and now your final warning. She refused to repeat herself a second time.

If only you could’ve seen what she saw. Ass up, face down, bent like some bitch in heat. You were presenting yourself. Your left cheek was squished against the grass and leaves. And your ass was tempting and teasing itself in her face, globes split apart.

God, you didn’t know, but you’d looked so pathetic. Like you were just waiting to be topped. And if that was what you really wanted, then who was Ellie to deny you that?

A wicked grin bloomed onto her face, replacing the sneer.

One phrase boomed in her head.

…my bitch.

Ellie’s.

You were made to be Ellie’s bitch.

Ellie pulled out the harnessed cock, it had a real fat, girthy shaft. With a long vein running along the underside. She drooled at the fantasy of how it’d tug against your tight rim. She slid the dick atop the split of your ass cheeks. Rutting it up and down. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw you roll your hips onto it.

“Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

Holding her dick against your ass really let her hips take a break from the weight of it. You were such a good doe, letting her warm it between the globes of your ass cheeks. Taking her thumb and forefinger, Ellie angled her tip down, She gave shallow thrusts, reveling in the wet slide of her cock against your labia. She just needed a few more ruts against the slick, to get it as wet as she wanted.

Nimble as ever, the hunter slightly leaned back onto her calves. The bulbous tip of her cock inched back and dragged itself down the expanse of your labia, from clit to hole. Until it caught against the rim of your hole. It barely nudged inside. But the feeling of the tip pressing against it, reflexively made your hole clench a kiss on its head. Ellie whistled at the scene.

Heaven on earth is what this was to her.

“Would you look at that? You want it huh? Can tell by how you’re sucking it in.”

It turned Ellie on so much, seeing her dick just barely touch your hole, just prolonging what you both knew was to come. She was feeling a little violent again, so Ellie cracked another sharp slap on the meat of your ass. The heat and twinge from it, made your eyes widen. A blistering handprint was left where she slapped you. Tears started burning at the back of your eyes and you gasped in a panic. Your reactive jerk from her smack, involuntarily slipped the first inch of her cock into your hole. Your slick coated just the head. Wetness was slowly starting to slip down your walls. And it dripped past the seal of your vagina and coated the top of Ellie’s tip.

Not even pornography could compare; because to the eyes of anyone who could see, the scene between you and her was in every sense of the word: obscene.

You struggled against the grass again. Giving her a beautiful performance of a hunt gone well. Doe-eyed prey shaking fitfully against the grass. Ellie’s intimidating presence dwarfed everything in its path like a dark shadow.

She draped her chest over your back and laid her cheek to rest atop your planted head. Ellie slowly lined up her freckled lips with your ears. It could’ve almost looked like a caress; a sleepy embrace between two lovers. Where one whispered ‘good morning, you up honey?’, and the other grumbled lowly ‘mhm. Just 5 more minutes my love.’

But nothing that came out of her mouth was sweet.

Ellie whispered very lowly.

“I’m begging you—to try to fight me off.”

And with that, and a ghost of a kiss to the shell of your ear; Ellie thrusted the shaft inside, groaning her own pleasure over the shout you yelped into the ground. A sudden intrusion, as alarming as that was, could only be described as malice.

She slowly pumped in more inches of her cock until she felt a strong resistance. She kept testing it, pounding sharp pumps to see if there would be any further give. Each attempt pulled a muffled “n’moh it won’ fit phleese” out of you.

You dug into the grass.

Ellie’s beautiful features transformed into a quizzical frown. Her bushy eyebrows, her full pink lips, and her usually cherubic cheeks, wrinkled in to display a strong feeling of ... .disappointment. There were at least a few inches left of her hungry cock that weren’t warmed inside that slick tight pussy hole.

Why couldn’t you take all of it?

She furrowed her brows, dug her nails tightly into the fat of your hips, and hurriedly bullied her girthy cock into you. She couldn’t help but revel in the way each thrust pulled a yelp out of you like a kicked bitch.

Maybe those weren’t yelps from your lips, but instead muffled moans….

Ellie couldn’t really tell, and regardless, she definitely didn’t care.

Her thrusts were heavy, punchy. There was no space to spare inside of you. Her shaft was molding your hole to fit around its thickness. The cockhead squished against your cervix, pulling a new type of soreness with each pull of it.

“Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn!”

You drooled on the grass. You took the rhythmic pounding up your abused cunt. Your puffy cervix was leaving wet kisses on the tip of Ellie’s dick, which pulled even more slick from the tiny donut.

“That’s right. Uhn! Uhn! Uhnn! for me baby. Cry just like that. You like being tackled and fucked rough don’t you? Sloppy cunt.”

She mocked.

She was right, it was so sloppy. Your walls were practically drooling along her shaft; and trust her, she could feel it.

Ellie slowly pulled her cock out, only to marvel upon the gorgeous coating of slick that sparkled in the early sunlight. Your milk had pooled along the veins and ridges of her shaft.

There was a creamy mousse ring that wrapped around the base of her balls, frothing from the thrusts.

Ellie had a perverted temptation to taste a bit of that milky coating. The thing was, it wasn’t new to her, she’d gotten a taste of it many times before.

Chuckling to herself, she slid it back in. But with complete knowledge of how intensely full you’d feel, Ellie leaned down to drape her chest across your back once more.

She positioned her torso atop yours, digging her fingers into the dirt on either side of your head to get a solid grip. Dried leaves and grit collected under her fingernails and painted them specks of amber and brown. Her sweaty bangs were sticking to her face now. And they curved around her hairline as she barked a laugh at each rough pounding you took, like her sweet girl.

“So fucking—”

Thrust.

“Fun”

Thrust.

“Watc-hing you—”

Thrust.

Her voice cracked, pounding you was bumping her swollen clit just right.

“Run like.”

Thrust.

“Some weak little prey.”

She replaced her grip in the dirt with finding purchase on top of your hands. She slid her fingers in between yours and interlocked them. She squeezed your fingers between her own, you weakly squeezed hers back. The hunter above you, found just the right footing to put her full body weight into fucking you, and now you felt the stretch and fullness everywhere, everywhere.

No space inside of you was spared.

Who knew hunters could be so mean?

“You feel that? Is it stretching? I wanna know if it burns.” She gruffed.

Yes, yes, and yes. A weepy eyed ‘yes’ to all three.

All you could feel was her. Her cock was nudging past the sensitive swell of your g-spot, bruising the area with her pounding.

How could you not feel it?

Every ridge of her dick pulled muted squeals out of you. And despite how much your neglected clit cried for attention and touch from between its sloppy lips, there was a fiercely intense pleasure that radiated around your body. And the evidence was the strings of glossy slick drooled onto the grass patch below you two. The same slick ran down the underhaft of her cock as she pumped inside you, and collected at the base of her heavy balls. Balls that were building a bruise on your ass, with each stinging connect of her hips to your butt.

Ellie’s sighs and moans were pitching a variation of high and low tones. Huffing like a dog in heat because of how good it felt to be inside of you.

God, the strap was fucking her back. Her brain was growing fuzzy, heavy, needy.

Catching her prey to fuck it, had her mind unraveling.

Who was the bitch now?

“H-hey.” She breathed out

“Your sloppy hole feels s’good. Tiny, tiny pussy clamping on my cock. You making me work for it baby? Work hard to fu— fuck inside of you.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The intensity grew stronger.

“I’ll work as hard as I need to stu-stuff your sloppy holes” she slurred. Her green irises rolled to the back of her head.

Ellie’s grip on top of your hand considerably tightened, which had seemed almost impossible, given their already iron lock.

Ellie rolled her pale hips in shallow circles, grinding inside of you. The friction against your g-spot was dizzying, and from where your nose was shoved in the grass, you grew lightheaded.

As Ellie’s cock made your walls plump and swell, Your vision was slowly growing spotty. Little black dots were dancing across the expanse of your vision. It was unfortunate how little you could breathe, because the barks of pain and whimpers of pleasure that you wanted to release would’ve made Ellie cum on the spot right then.

“Love your pretty pussy. It’s pretty, it’s all mine. All for me. Tiny hole that I get to stuff full of dick—wanna chase and stuff you every day. I wanna be the only one in-inside you. Does my dick hurt your tummy? Want it to hurt you so good. Sorry, m’sorry, but I-I want it to hurt so good.”

Ellie was frantic and erratic. Fever brained and pussy drunk beyond the horizon. She sloppily slurred all her little fantasies in your ear.

The edges of your vision were graying out, your eyes glazed. If Ellie had noticed, she didn’t care.

Instead she obsessed herself with the way she was molding a home for her thick cock in your puffy walls. The same walls were puffy and deep pink inside.

Each thrust from her slender hips was like a zing that dragged pleasure down the ribbed walls. Pressure was building up severely in your tummy, and you were overcome with a strong urge to clamp.

You choked your last whimpering moan into the dirt, and finally let the tension go. Slick milky cum seeped from the seal of your sensitive hole and burst onto the base of her dick. It was frothing and glossy.

Your eyelids grew suddenly heavy. Your vision was tunneling, there was a gray and fuzzy halo around it that obstructed its clarity. You could only make out blurry shapes and colors, only the soft light of the day, just before you relaxed and sleepily went limp.

You had been fucked into a heavy slumber, yet your lower half was still being held up by the girl with the cock inside of you.

She didn’t let up.

Ellie kept fucking you. Frantic and greedy for her own orgasm in your pussy. She needed to be inside of it just a little longer.

She picked up her pace, relishing in the sweet feel of the cockbase smacking her clit. Ellie felt the same pressure in her own vagina rising. Her clit was just as swollen, just as puffy, just as wet and glossy as your hole was on the inside. And Ellie sought a few more angry thrusts to get her over the edge. She snapped her hips forward, and each time you jerked forward in the grass, with your lips forming an “o” and your eyes gently closed.

Thrust.

“Fuck!”

Thrust.

“Please please please.”

Thrust.

“—Prett-pretty my pretty pussy all mine.”

Thrust.

“Sososo tight.”

Thrust.

“Ughhhh!…”

A groan grizzled from her throat.

Ellie squirted spurts of her release down her thighs. Her eyeballs rolled backwards until they were white and veiny, and her hips stuttered with each squirt.

She came all over her skinny jeans.

Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she sucked in deep gulps of air. Ellie’s toned abs contracted with her breathing, clenching and relaxing. Over and over did the muscles dance until her breathing slowly steadied itself.

The hunter pulled out of you and tucked herself back inside her jeans. She barely zipped her pants up, leaving the slick base of her veiny dick still visible to the world’s eyes. She couldn't find it within herself to care, not even a tiny bit.

The NULA rifle was strewn amongst the grass, and its owner walked the short distance to pick it up from the grass. She picked it clean. Wiping the dirt off of it, and blowing off the stuck grass. She stationed the NULA by her hip again, and walked back towards your limp body.

Crescent moon sharpie doodles were scribbled onto the dirty toe box of her converses. The doodles you’d drawn for her one frigid October evening, an entire calendar year ago.

Ellie had found that so endearing, but even then she had been too shy to admit it at the time.

She surely wasn’t shy now.

Despite the fact that her preferred celestial body was still stars, she still held your insistence on decorating her shoes, near and dear to her heart. It had been one of those slow and scary, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you’ moments, that had pivoted the direction of your relationship, unbeknownst to either of you.

Ellie took those same converses and nudged your shoulder. Several times in fact.

In your deep slumber, your body had only moved with the motion of her foot.

A whistle twinkled from her pout.

“….And you’re out cold.”

She reached for your arm “okay come on—get up.” And slung you over her shoulder. It was awkward, it wasn’t easy. The sniper wanted about as much space on Ellie’s slender frame as you did. But she had to make it work. Better than patrollers finding you in the grass with your ass split wide open and your pussy dripping slick like a snail. So she dragged her feet as she carried you, and held the gun parallel to her body.

But she managed to make it work.

She managed all the way to the gates. where she slipped through the back. Your privacy was something she could never risk, no matter how much she reveled in this game.

She managed into Jackson town.

And then into her house, and then into her room, and then into her bed where she tucked you under the covers, so you could sleep the adrenaline and full body orgasm off.

The lull in her messy room was quiet.

It felt like no more than a warm hub, for you and your bold lover. Ellie was tired to her bones, but she worked on the keys of her guitar as you slept.

You’d mewled in your sleep from time to time. And she felt slightly guilty, slightly. She knew you’d wake up just fine. With a bad limp and maybe an attitude to last the day, but still mostly fine.

Ellie dropped her chin onto the guitar, and rolled herself back and forth in her chair.

She mulled over it in her mind, how it’d be kinder of her to just…pull back from time to time. Just so you weren’t wincing in your sleep from the ache. But then she pouted; unsure of herself.

Didn’t you like it when she was mean?

She plucked a key, F major, then B minor. A momentary pause, before her nails hesitantly strummed the strings. They still didn’t sound right. So she tuned them again.

She broke her gaze away from the strings to briefly check on you. You were a sniffling lump underneath her sky blue sheets.

Her chest squeezed at the image.

She knew it was sappy, it was lame. It was the feeling of impassioned affection; of love.

“I know you’ll love this one, whenever you decide to wake up…dork.” She teased.

Ellie strummed the string once again, meditating on the key. She cleared her throat, and whisper-sung her favorite part.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help…” she sucked in a breath, and her cheeks dusted pink. Embarrassed even with no one to bare witness. But this song had best encompassed the ocean of her feelings.

“…Falling in love with you.”

She dropped her head against the body of her guitar.

And smiled into it.

-fin-

[acetaminphen]

Forgive Me Father (PT 1)

Charlie Mayhew x Reader

*religious, sacrilege, angst, some fluff, mentions of abuse / abuse, adult content 18+, mentions of blood, not entirely based on how he would act, not religiously accurate*

WC: idk it’s a lot

As a new nun you had very little say in regards to your placement within the church. It came as a shock when you, alongside a handful of other nuns, were reassigned to the new young priest. You expected some minuscule job not assisting a very priest himself. As of now you exited the right wing of the church, it now serving as a convent. Dinner was being prepared and it was your job to collect any herbs or vegetables, the rest was delivered once a week. The bottom of your habit dirtying as you bent over harvesting some rosemary. Hearing the snap of a twig you felt the presence of Father Mayhew, low thunder roared across the horizon a breeze acting as a warning of the approaching cold front.

“I knew I would find you out here, sister.” Father Mayhew spoke up, his playful grin only widening as you subconsciously wiped the dirt from your hands onto your dress. He would never admit aloud but he much preferred your presence over the rest.

“Oh, hello Father.” You say as you close your eyes and nod at the same time, as you stand up and look at him. You fix your habit and wipe your hands off to the sides of it. “Did you need me for something?” You question, looking up at him with quite the height difference, having your hands folded in front of you.

He chuckled, finding your timid nature strangely amusing. He watched you fuss with your habit, making a mental note to have someone fix the hem. It hadn’t escaped his attention on your first day that it seemed a bit too long on you. He crossed his arms in front of him, standing tall yet relaxed. “There is something I need to talk to you about.” He mentioned, the usual seriousness that seemed to plague him returning to his tone.

You furrow your eyebrows slightly and quickly, wondering what he could be needing to talk to you about in such a serious nature. “Of course Father, what is it?”

His dark eyes, normally cold and intimidating, remained on you. He studied your features as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. How many times has he seen you kneel before him, head bowed, lips moving in prayer. He’s yet to find out if you were just as obedient in other areas. “Are you comfortable here? At the convent?” He inquired, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as if amused by something.

“Yes of course Father.” You try to say without hesitation, as you think of how of course there’s things you would change, and nothing quite beats home itself. “Why do you ask?”

He hummed, a low noise that was almost guttural. He knew your reply well before you spoke it. He also knew that you weren’t completely telling the truth in your answer. With a subtle step closer, his towering figure now easily casted a shadow over your form. “Are you lying to me, sister?” Father Mayhew mumbled, his voice low and almost commanding.

You look up at him, with just your eyes as he steps closer to you. You speak low. “Oh now, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Father Mayhew raised an eyebrow. In the short time since you’d joined the church he found your reactions to his presence… rather pleasing. He would find himself watching you in the pews, or during prayer, trying to decipher your intentions. Your meek nature kept his mind occupied with ways to break you out of it. He took another step closer, now towering directly over you. He wanted to see how far he could go before you’d crack under the weight of his gaze. “Maybe not lie, but I know there is more you are withholding from me.”

You released a small almost playful smirk. “This isn’t confession, Father.”

He couldn’t help but smile at your snarky comment, the sight of your smirk sending an almost unfamiliar feeling through him. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he watched you with his usual scrutinizing gaze. “You have attitude, sister.” He practically hissed the word ‘sister’, his tone was both scolding yet amused.

“Not attitude father, perseverance.” Your smirk turns to a small closed innocent smile, still looking up at him.

He had to forcibly bit back a laugh, the sudden spark of challenge in your eyes something he didn’t expect. He was quite used to nuns bowing at his feet and doing as he asked. You, however, were not like the others, you gave as much as you got. He wanted to see just how much he could get out of you before you lost your fight. “Interesting.” He murmured, his voice still deep with authority. He took yet another step closer until there was only inches between the two of you.

You clear your throat as you finally look down from him. “Now is there anything I can actually help you with, Father or may I get back to picking our vegetables for tonight’s dinner?” You ask as you look back up at him, slightly squinting from the setting sun.

His gaze followed yours, watching you intently. He didn’t miss the way your cheeks dusted with pink. This time he didn’t hold back a smirk, finding your flustered state very amusing. He hummed once again, crossing his arms in front of him as he considered leaving you in your current condition. However, he thought better of it, after all, he did actually have a reason to seek you out. “I have a job for you.” He spoke up, his tone now back to the usual seriousness.

“And what might the job be, Father? Who will tend to the garden after I leave?”

The corner of his mouth curled up, watching how you fidgeted awkwardly. You were trying your best to appear calm and collected yet it was evident you weren’t used to being stuck so closely next to him. He took pity on you, opting to answer your question first before explaining the task he needed you to complete. “Do not worry, I’m sure the others can finish up the remainder of the harvesting.”

You narrow your eyes a bit, hiding it within your squinting from the sun. “And what is the job, Father?” You repeat yourself.

He rolled his eyes, amused by your stubbornness. Father Mayhew took two of his long fingers, gently placing them on your chin to angle your head, away from the bright sun and towards him. Once you looked at him he removed his hand, letting it fall back to his side. “You’ll be coming to my office. There are some… documents I need you to help me organize.”

“I thought documents were confidential, only a Priest and the Abbess could view them?” You pause for a moment. “There’s not even an Abbess yet.” You cross your arms.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your sudden challenge. He was used to the older sisters giving in to his word, never second guessing his authority. Having you question him made his chest feel light, he hadn’t felt this entertained in awhile. He watched impassively as you crossed your arms in front of you.“There is an exception to every rule, sister.” He mentioned, his voice taking a commanding tone once more. His eyes flicked over your figure, observing you carefully.

You widden your eyes a bit as you let out a small sigh, thinking what kind of Priest doesn’t follow the rules. “Lead the way, Father.” You dust off your hands together to make sure all the dirt is off. He nodded, a smirk once again tugging at his lips. He relished in your submission, watching you brush off the dirt from your hands before he turned to lead you towards his office. His pace was brisk, the length of his strides forcing you into a half jog as you tried to keep up with him.

“You know, you would benefit from a lesson in being more… obedient.” He spoke up, barely casting a glance back at you.

“I’m quite obedient, am I not? I’m following you to your office to help sort those documents, hm?” You look up at him with your eyes as the two of you continue to walk. He chuckled again once you pointed out your ‘compliance’. You were right, you were following his direction and coming with him to his office as he asked. However, your attitude, your stubbornness, was just as present, showing no signs of submission.

“I take back what I said, perhaps you need a few lessons on obedience, sister. A reminder to lower your eyes and keep your voice reserved.” He suggested, the office building now coming into view.

You let out a small laugh. “I think that will take more than a few lessons, Father.” You say as you look away from him back to the front of yourself as you keep walking. Father Mayhew could feel his chest become tight at the sound of your light laugh. He shook his head, trying to clear any impure thoughts or distractions. Hearing you speak back to him so unreserved, no longer flinching under his gaze. He wondered if he could break this defiant spirit of yours or if you were a lost cause. As the reached the office, he held the door open for you, motioning you through.

“After you, sister.”

You give a small nod to him as you walk into his office, you take a look around as you walk in. “Beautiful office, didn’t think it would be this nice.”

He watched as you entered, seeing the curious glances you gave around the room. He shut the door behind him before speaking up, crossing his arms in front of himself as he stood across from you. “What did you expect? Dirt, dust, and a singular chair to sit on?” He teased, watching for your reaction.

You let out a little laugh. “Well who am I to know what Father Mayhew has in his office.” You walk over to one of the bookshelves and look at all the books on it. He rolled his eyes as he watched you wander around the room, once again feeling an unfamiliar sensation course through him as he watched you touch his bookshelf and look at the various books on display. He leaned against his desk as he watched you, eyes following you intently.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be so insolent.” He mentioned, his tone almost playful.

“I wasn’t always a nun.”

His eyebrows raised. For some reason he thought of you as a good, obedient girl, never imagining you had a wild past. He tilted his head, intrigued. “Oh? Now you’ve definitely sparked my curiosity. You used to be quite the… party animal?”

You give him a small smile. “Lets save that story for another time Father, now how about those documents we’re supposed to sort?”

He hummed, mentally filing away your words for later. He could tell there was more to your story, and he’d be lying if he didn’t want to uncover it. He pushed off the desk, sauntering over to a set of drawers and pulling out a few files. “Indeed.” He murmured, his earlier serious tone returning as he handed you one of the files, keeping the others for himself.

You take the file, looking at the cover. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to look at these files? I’m not an Abbess, nor am I obviously a Priest.” You look up at him with a slightly worried expression, not wanting to get in trouble by the Bishops.

He couldn’t help the smirk that formed at your question, amused by your innocence and naivety. He watched as your eyes flicked up to him, your pretty face now held a worried expression, a stark contrast to the defiant attitude you had earlier. He set the files he was holding onto his desk before responding, watching intently as your eyes followed his every step. “Don’t fret, sister. I have already cleared it with the Diocese. You are merely giving me a helping hand.”

You slightly furrow your eyebrows and shake your head as you look down. “Of course Father.” How could you think that he wouldn’t clear it beforehand. He chuckled again, his chest feeling lighter the more he observed your expressions. You weren’t making it easy for him to maintain his usual stern demeanor. Seeing you look so innocently concerned over something so minor was amusing to him. As he stood beside you he raised a hand to brush a piece of loose hair from your face. He let his hand linger on your cheek, feeling the heat from your skin.

“You’re such a good girl, worrying about such things.” He whispered, his voice low and slightly mocking.

You can feel your face heat up as you continue looking down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. “Now Father,” You clear your throat, “What exactly are we doing with these documents?” You try to ignore what he’s doing and stay focused on the task.

He hummed lowly as he pulled his hand away, his fingers grazing across your cheek as he did so. He chuckled, noticing your attempt to keep his fingers from catching your reaction to his touch. His gaze darkened as he walked over and sat down in his chair, watching you from his desk. “It’s nothing complicated. I’m just updating the parish records, adding new members, removing old ones. But, my hand has been aching from all the writing. So I just need you to copy my notes into new files after I write them.”

You look back up as he walks away, looking at him now sitting at his desk, your face still hot. “That’ll take all night, won’t it?”

He folded his hands on the desk, observing how red your cheeks were, how hard you were trying to maintain a straight face. He knew the cause but decided he wouldn’t mention it, not yet. He chuckled at your statement, his eyes roaming your face as he spoke. “Well if you keep talking then yes, it will. Now stop standing around and get started, the sooner you start the sooner you can return to the garden.”

You purse your lips, almost embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking, not even realizing it. You walk over to his desk and sit down as start copying his notes into new files. He watched you silently as you sat down, his gaze following your every movement. Something about you was different from the other nuns. You were more lively, outspoken even, and seemingly unafraid of his presence, of his status. He liked this fact, he found it refreshing. As you copied his notes he continued to look at you, his eyes flickering from your face to your hands, watching as your pen raced across the paper, copying his handwriting perfectly.

After a long while of copying documents to new files, you stop for a moment and look up at him. “Why did you pick me, Father? To help you, I mean.” He was somewhat surprised when you looked up from your work to ask your question, he had been so focused on studying you, he hadn’t realized how long you had been copying documents into files.

He took a moment to respond, his mind searching for a suitable reply. He couldn’t just tell you that he wanted an excuse to have you all to himself alone in his office, he couldn’t tell you how he wanted to push your buttons, wanted to see how far he could go with you before you protested. “You just happened to be the closest to me in the garden.”

He was fibbing. Knowing there were other nuns out there with you. You tilt your head slightly as you continue looking at him. “Are you lying to me, Father?” You ask quietly, seemingly mocking him from earlier as he had asked you the same thing.

A smirk involuntarily tugged at the corners of his lips as you mimicked his earlier question. He folded his hands on top of the desk to keep from touching you. As stubborn as you were, he found your attempts to be cheeky humorous. He hummed in response, his eyes narrowed slightly as he observed your face, watching as you stared at him expectantly, awaiting a response. He shook his head slowly, deciding to humor you.

“And if I was? What would you do about it, hm?”

Shocked at his response, thinking to yourself what would you do, really? “Well, lying is a sin, Father.”

He hummed again, his smirk now fully formed on his face. Oh you were good. And a smartass too. He was finding it increasingly harder to maintain his usual authoritative demeanor in your presence when you were acting so bold. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of himself. He tilted his head, his eyes raking over your figure, taking in how you sat so innocently on the edge of your chair, your habit falling around you. "A sin indeed. But what about obeying a Priest, hm? You seem to have a hard time with that one, sister."

You look down with a small smirk as you let out a small “hm”. He got you there. “It seems we both have our own sins.” You pause for a moment. “But I guess that’s what confession is for, right Father?” You question as you look back up at him.

He could sense the sarcastic tone of your voice when you spoke. Oh you were definitely testing his patience, how far could you push it before you got a response? His mind wandered to the question of whether you spoke to the other priests like this, or if he was the one you enjoyed sassing most. He smirked right back at you, his eyes never leaving your face. He leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the desk and interlocking his fingers.

“Yes, you would be correct. But something tells me you don’t take the confessional quite seriously, do you?”

You can feel your chest get heavier with each little poke and prod he does, seemingly trying to get you to break. You tilt your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Now what makes you say that, Father? Personally I believe I take my confessions quite serious, isn’t that all that matters?”

He chuckled, observing you intensely as you continued to resist his attempts. Your stubbornness was, he had to admit, quite attractive. He found it almost endearing in a way. He sat back in his chair again, a smirk still on his lips as he spoke.

“Hm, yes I suppose so. But what I think is that you don’t confess half of the things that go through your mind. You like to hold back on information. You seem the secretive type, wouldn’t you agree?”

You keep your head at the same little tilt. You speak quietly, “I could say the same thing about you, Father. You seem like you have a lot of deep secrets, ones you wouldn’t tell a single soul…”

His eyes darkened, his smirk fading as you responded to him. He clenched his jaw at your comment, an edge now to his voice. He leaned forward again, his gaze fixed on your face as he spoke, each word coming out more slowly than the last, his tone slightly laced with anger. “Watch what you say to me, sister. Don’t presume you know things about me.”

A small smirk plays on your face and then fades. “I’ve watched you more than you think Father. Sneaking away from the other priests, when you think nobody is watching…” You lean forwards to his desk.

He grits his teeth, anger slowly building up in him again. He didn’t like the fact that you had noticed. He prided himself on being a private man. And no one, especially a young, innocent-looking nun, should be able to watch his every move so carefully. He slams his palms on the desk, standing up, his towering figure now looming over you as he spoke, his voice coming out in a low whisper.

“And what exactly have you witnessed, sister?”

You flinch slightly and lean back into your chair as he slams his hands down and stands over you. You look down not wanting to look up at him. A small smirk can’t help but play at your face, knowing you finally broke the so called stoic priest. “I haven’t witnessed anything, Father…” You speak in almost a whisper now.

He could see the small smirk on your face, and it annoyed him more than it should have. You were being defiant, trying to play coy, when underneath it all, you were enjoying this, goading him on. He grabbed you chin and roughly pulled your face up to look at him, his fingers holding your jaw tightly. He clenched his jaw as he spoke, his voice coming out in a low, frustrated tone. “You may be innocent-looking, but you’re not as simple and sweet as you seem, are you, sister?”

You look up at him with your eyes as he holds your chin, forcing you to look at nothing but him. You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “Clearly neither are you, Father...”

He chuckled darkly as you speak back to him again, his grip on your jaw tightening as you continue to taunt him. He was becoming more and more frustrated with you. With how you continued to test his limits with no remorse. How you continued to toy with him as if you had no idea of the effect you were having on him. He leaned in closer to you, his face now mere inches from yours, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

“Be careful, sister...your brattiness is going to get you in trouble someday.”

“Oh you wouldn’t dare get me in trouble with the knowledge I have on you.” A small smile peaks through him grabbing your jaw, your eyes showing something more than retaliation. Still keeping your calm whispering tone.

His eyes darkened again, a look of frustration crossing over his face as he heard your words. He knew you were right. You had power over him. You knew too much. He was in a lose-lose situation with you. He leaned in even closer, so close now that you could feel his breath on your face. His eyes raked over your face again, taking in every part of you. He spoke in a low, almost menacing tone.

“And what exactly is it that you know, sister? Pray tell.”

You can feel his fingers pressing into the skin of your cheeks and jaw. The small smile still drawn on your face. “Oh I couldn’t tell you Father, that would be no fun.”

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers digging even harder into your skin. He knew exactly what game you were playing now. And he hated that. He hated that he was caught in your trap. Caught by some young, insolent nun. He took another step forward, essentially boxing you in against his desk, his face now mere centimeters from yours. His voice came out as a harsh whisper, the frustration and anger slowly bubbling over.

“You really think you’re clever don’t you, sister?”

“I’m more than clever Father.” You take your hand and move it to his that’s gripping your face and grab it. “Be careful, before you leave a mark. Wouldn’t want people questioning you now.”

He flinched as your hand reached up and grabbed his, but he didn’t pull away, instead letting you hold it there against your face. He knew you were right. He couldn’t mark your skin or people would notice. People would talk. And he needed to maintain his image. He didn’t respond verbally, his eyes just looking down at you, a deep frustration settling onto his face as his hand relaxed slightly against you, his fingertips no longer digging into your skin, instead lightly resting against your face.

A small open smile paints your face, it has a slight smirk to it as your hand is still resting on his. You let it linger for a moment before moving it away. You take a step back from him, noticing the time. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in confession Father. No more lies.”

He watched as you smiled up at him, that look of smugness and satisfaction on your face made his chest ache with anger. He hated that you were in control here, but he had no choice but to give in. He couldn’t risk you saying something to the others about him. He stepped back slowly as you took a step back from him, his mind reeling with thoughts of anger and annoyance, but also something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Tomorrow morning, sister. You’d better have something good to confess.”

“As you, Father.” You give a small nod before leaving his office.

He clenched his jaw as you left the office, his mind racing as he watched you go. You were a cheeky bastard, a smartass. But you had a point. He did have things he needed to confess. Things you didn’t know about. Yet. His hand reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dammit. He had to stop letting you get to him like this.

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GUYS. i’m so excited for this series, it is so good so far, i can’t wait to see where this goes. also can we just make note of the red boots and the CHAPS?

anyways if this does well ish i’ll do a part 2.

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/acetaminphen/763614566704922624/forgive-me-father-pt-2

[bonefall]

Now I'm curious, I need to know how many bloodlines are dead, like Bluestar's is just tragic

WELL, it's a question without a straight answer. Bluestar's bloodline isn't "dead" but it's not "alive" either. It's a secret third thing. I'm calling it Schrodinger's Bloodline in my head.

In RiverClan, ShadowClan, and WindClan, there's a "missing generation" gap in-between TPB and TNP where a ton of "Orphan Warriors" suddenly appear. For a series that's hypothetically supposed to have legacy as a major theme, in practice, only ThunderClan is allowed to remember their grandparents lmao. So that means that Reedwhisker COULD have had children... but we don't know.

The only direct lines that cross that Missing Generation Gap we have tracked outside of Thunder and Sky are;

The Palebird Line (Tallstar, Onestar, Heathertail)

The Hickorynose Line (Deadfoot, Sorrelshine, Whitetail. Completely absorbed by the Palebird line)

The Scorchwind Line (Rowanstar)

So, any other non-ThunderClan family tree that you can think of is "gone", or more accurately, in the Schrodinger's Bloodline box. Yellowfang's entire family is gone. Blackstar's family is gone. Crookedstar's family is gone.

The TRULY DEAD lines in Warrior Cats are within SkyClan and ThunderClan. And by the way it's INSANE how inbred SkyClan, The Kittypet Guys, became in less than 3 generations. It's AWFUL.

This is because the writers have a really bad habit of "quantity over quality" in terms of which cats they choose to "breed." They'll pick "super parents" in a generation, essentially, have them produce 4 - 7 kittens, and then choose 3 of them to become the parents of the next generation. Clovertail, Snowbird, Robinwing, Swiftbreeze... and basically they irrevocably fuck up the genetic diversity completely.

(and then they forget they did it and ignore their own shitty tree, because if they didn't, they would completely prevent shipping within several generations. Dustpelt being Ferncloud's uncle, Spottedleaf being Tigerclaw's aunt, Brightheart and Swiftpaw being 1st cousins, Thrushpelt being Thistleclaw's brother, all things the writers completely forget... if you treat canon like scripture, you'll eat yourself alive.)

But anyway, tangents aside, lines that are entirely dead within ThunderClan;

Thrushpelt, Dappletail. This little branch is dead.

Sunstar's line is dead

One-Eye's kits, Runningwind and Mousefur, had none of their own

Doestar's line is dead

Not to mention the orphan warriors. Hollypelt, Rockfall, Weedwhisker...

So, in a nutshell, the list of "living" lines is shorter than the list of 'dead' lines. This is because the lines in most side clans aren't tracked, and in Thunder and Sky, bloodlines bunch up through genetic bottlenecks like Adderswift/Robinfuzzy/Clovertail.

[catsoupki]

當你不在 / when you’re not there (satoru gojo x reader) PT. 1

Summary: Satoru Gojo is slowly being backed into a corner by his father to pick a bride if he wants to inherit the throne, as his royal guard, you just want to protect him.

Warnings: prince gojo x royal guard reader ! soft FLUFF!!! for now anyway, since this is only the build-up for this 3-part (?) miniseries, i’m planning the angst and the smut 😛 stay tuned hahaha

wc: 850

Today is cold, the winds of autumn come knocking at the walls of Oculos, you’re kept warm, however, by the layers that shield your skin from the nipping chill— a tunic in sapphire blue covers your torso, a grey cuirass of dragon skin keeps your posture upright, and a bearskin cap tames your hair kempt. Perhaps an onlooker would’ve found the series of leather that strap around your shoulders and waist to be constricting, but your movement has grown within these boundaries— you were born for this duty.

Every day begins with leading a drill for your brigade. Whilst you stand under the wilting willow tree, you’ll pretend to not hear the soft hums coming from the prince’s chambers as you allow the wind to mess up your neckband.

Roughly an hour later, Your Majesty will finally decide that he shall leave his bedroom to come greet you by the dried leaves.

By then, you will have rounded up your men in two single-file lines to salute the prince. He never spares them an eye, maybe not even a breath. But it’s routine that he comes over to you, blue eyes one entire head above yours, looking down at you with a glint that is softly familiar, and he’ll fix your collar everyday without fail.

Afterwards, he shall go enjoy his breakfast in the hall, while you continue training your soldiers on wielding the katana with sparring and beatings. Breakfast, for you, always starts on an empty and aching stomach.

Today was meant to be no different, your steps periodic as you head towards the first meal of the day, but General Getou stops you in your tracks, “Commander y/n, report for duty in the grand hall. Satoru is looking for you again.” He sighs, “I’ll save some breakfast for you.”

“Thanks.” You say, the wind carrying your voice to him while you begin trekking in another direction.

When you enter the room, it seems that a ball has been going for some time already, despite it being only just the afternoon. Goblets of alcohol litter the tables, and a variety of fruits cover every surface. You return to your post— behind Satoru, on his right. He notices you right away, sneaking past the noisy wooden doors that you never liked, he’ll apologise later for making you skip breakfast, but he can’t be bothered to look at all these women parading themselves in front of him.

“Y/n, do I look fine today?” Satoru teases, cutting off a princess from the neighbouring country, simultaneously ignoring the glare that his father sends him from atop the throne.

“You look just as well as you had yesterday, Your Majesty.”

Out of the entire royal family, the only people who never held a distaste for you were Satoru and his mother, and now that she’s dead, you dare not speak in the presence of Satoru’s father, but you are the captain of the royal guard.

“Son, don’t you think the lady in red is just dashing? I think she’s much worthy of your attention, she’s of noble blood, at least.”

You remain stone-faced at your post, because the duty that you have learned to love comes with the acceptance of people’s spit: you are no more than the dirt on the sole of his shoes.

“Hmm, I think not, thanks father, and thanks ladies, but it seems that I have other more interesting matters to tend to. Have a safe trip home!”

Satoru is used to sending kings and the like home with red, glowing faces. He doesn’t care, he just drags you with him as he takes his exit. And you? You just follow him like a sunflower to the sun.

“You think I could just act super rude obliviously to drive them away?” Satoru asks, white hair blowing in the sea-salted wind.

He looks at you, but you look at Suguru, as you’re still shovelling the cold bites of food into your mouth.

“Their fathers are definitely willing to overlook that as long as they get to have your powers. Satoru, you seem to forget the reason why they’re even here to court you in the first place.”

Loneliness is a cold, unforgiving feeling. It’s not the same as breathing in winter air that makes your throat itch, loneliness doesn’t make rounds like the seasons do, it stays, stubbornly and mulishly rooted at the base of every step that he takes, it’s��

“It’s been three years, won’t my father just give up? Three years, no kingdom ever woos me for real, anyway.”

“What if you just marry someone and divorce them after you get the throne?” You ask, eyes bugged as you finish the last of your meal.

“I don’t want to consummate with a woman I have not a single tittle of feelings for.” You and Suguru meet eyes as Satoru continues to deliver his tirade to the calm ocean. You two will never be able to understand his life, a life of one million suns.

“I’ll figure it out.”

—it’s when you’re not there.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa

[nightly-ruse]

Curious, why’d you renamed Whitetail to Whitewing? or was it confusion?

Oh shit no that was just a mess up lol. I may rename her anyways tho I think maybe after a bird. Thinking Ospreytail to match Kestrel

Edit: fixed it! Updated tree already linked

[taesanluv3r]

a royal wedding.

prince! kim leehan x princess! reader

pure fluff. your heart will melt into mush!! i want prince leehan so bad ugh TT lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors. enjoy :3

wc: 4,674

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"angel, would you like a refill too?"

princess yn's little hands wrap around either side of her ceramic teapot, pouring imaginary liquid into her white cat's cup. she giggles, conversing with her pet and her toys as she leans her back against the large tree that stood in the middle of her family's large palace garden. the little princess smiles joyfully as she fixes the miniature tiara on her teddy's head, her own one tilting slightly as she moved around. a sudden rustle of leaves from behind her shakes her out of her make-believe tea party, she sighs softly when she hears a pair of feet getting closer to her. they stop for a moment, a shadow appearing over the green grass as the figure hid behind the tree.

"ha~yA! en garde!" the voice of the boy that jumped out in front of her was squeaky and loud, the voice that belonged to none other than the child of the neighbouring kingdom, prince leehan. he stood before her, his fencing uniform on and a small sword made of wood, that pointed straight at the stuffed toy, in his hand. "is this little teddy bear bothering you, yn? if it is, i shall battle him to the death!" the young princess rolls her eyes at her friend's words, not giving him, or his loud actions, much of a reaction as it happened almost every single time. "first of all, teddy is a she. and she's a teddy bear! she's not gonna hurt me, leehan" the prince sighs in defeat, slumping himself down right beside her against the tree. she hands him a cup, filling it up with the imaginary beverage and he thanks her, playing along. "but how am i supposed to protect my princess if no one is harming her?" the boy displays a big pout on his lips, taking a sip of nothing out of the ceramic cup. she giggles, "you're so silly, leehan" yn strokes a hand through her cat's head as it crawls onto her lap. "you promise i can save you from all the bad guys when we grow up, right yn?" leehan's eyes are big and shining, looking straight into her own sparkly ones. "of course! after we get married!" the boy nods quickly at her response, "we are gonna have the best wedding! we can even have an aquarium in our wedding!" the girl laughs at his weird obsession with fishes, "and we can have a chocolate fountain!" he nods again, "and lot's of presents" the prince's eyes are gleaming as he looks into the future, his thoughts shaken when her little hand pushes against his shoulder. "a wedding isn't like a birthday, silly" he frowns, "i know one thing we have to have at our wedding though..." she nods, as if she knew exactly what the boy was thinking. the two little royals turned to each other at the same time, speaking in unison.

"a hundred tier chocolate cake"

the young boy and girl shared a laugh, quieting down for minute to listen to the rustling of falling leaves and the purring of the feline in her lap. "but i really really want something at our wedding" and he turns to face her again, head tilted off to the side to let her know he was listening. "i want to have a billion blue butterflies to fly around when we kiss" the princess says, eyes wandering up to the sky as she smiles at the thought of her dream wedding. the prince blushes slightly, "i like the butterfly thing...but do we really have to kiss?" yn rolls her eyes, slapping his arm, "of course! that's what all adults do!" leehan nods in agreement, "i can't wait to be married" she mimics his head movements,

"me too"

just then, the sound of a bell removes the two children out of their daydreams, the voice of the princess' helper entering into their little ears. "princess yn! prince leehan! oh, there you are..." the young woman's name is mildred, she's been helping with the princess since she was a wee little baby. "mildred!" yn cheered, getting up to give her a hug. the woman gladly returned it, fixing the back of the girl's frock that began to wrinkle up in the process. "are you here to join our afternoon tea?" the princess asked, smiling up at her helper who just shakes her head softly. "no, no. while i'd love to, prince leehan's parents are searching for him. you've got to go home now" she directs the last part of her sentence towards the young boy who was beginning to get up off of the grass. "but why? can't he play a little longer?" the two children shared the same frown, "no, princess. he's got to get home! c'mon, grab your teddies, i'll take angel" the girl obliges, turning to collect all her toys as the woman picked her white cat up from the ground. the boy waited for his princess, politely reaching a hand out for her to take so they could walk together, back into her family's palace.

"oh, there you two are!" edmund, the young man that served the little prince exclaims as the two children came into view. "edmund! my humble servant!" leehan cheered, puffing his chest out to imitate the way heroic king's stood. the man chuckled, grabbing onto the boy's playing sword and greeting the princess as well. "let's go, your majesty and your highness are waiting for you" he says, signalling for them to follow him into the main throne room.

"papa!" yn smiled, running over to the king and the queen. "hey, darling. how was your tea party, hm?" the older man asks, standing tall with a pretty gold crown sat atop his head. "it was fun...but why does leehan have to go home so soon?" she whines, turning to face the rulers of the neighbouring kingdom he had come from. "i'm sorry, princess. leehan has some prince-ly duties to fulfill...he'll come again soon, okay?" the boy's mom spoke sweetly, tapping a cold finger against the little girl's cheek. "okay" she sighed, a frown grazing against her lips. "bye, my princess! i've got hero duties to do!" leehan announces, grabbing onto the girl's hand and pressing a kiss against it. yn rolls her eyes once again, giggling at the feeling.

"bye, my silly prince"

the two royal families finally part ways, the king and queen waving off the other pair as they waltzed away into their limousine and off to their own side of the evenly distributed lands. the queen smiles as she picks her daughter up from where she stood on the palace grounds and into her arms. "mama, you know what?" the young princess asks, grabbing the attention of her father as well. "what is it, darling?" her mother asks, looking at her intently. "leehan and i are gonna get married! and he'll protect me from all the evil bad guys with his diamond sword!" her parents laugh, "is that so?" the king continues their chat, entering the dining room as they did so. "mhm! and! and we'll have a hundred tier chocolate cake!" the princess' parents giggle.

"i can't wait! it'll be the perfect-est wedding ever!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"ugh why'd i sign myself up for this?" princess yn groans, head banging against the long wooden table that sat in one of the many rooms in her palace, the sound and impact causing the old white cat that laid down across from her to jump right off. prince leehan chuckles, moving to hover over her from behind, looking down at the pieces of paper scattered in front of her. "that doesn't look bad at all, love" he says, hands rubbing circles softly against her shoulders. "and besides...you were the one who insisted on hand-written letters for the guests!" his comment makes her roll her eyes, "ugh, i give up! let's just...hire someone to do this along with the other wedding favors" the guy laughs, tightening the grip he had on her shoulders. "i already did that, love. i was just waiting till you gave up, to let you know" her mouth drops opened, turning her head around to face him with narrowed eyes. "you..." yn starts, her eyebrows that were knitted together beginning to soften when she's met with his handsome face. "you know me too well" she sighs, watching as her fiancee smiles, his eyes turning into moon-shaped lines as he did so. a chilling sensation takes over her body when he presses his pink lips against her own ones.

"oh! i'm so sorry to have to ruin this moment, your highness" an old woman interrupts them, entering the room. "no problem, mildred. what's up?" the soon-to-be bride asks, smiling at her helper who's been by her side since she were little. "your gown has arrived for a fitting!" the woman's words make her eyes go wide and she turns to her prince with a joyous look, hastily getting up with excitement. prince leehan waits patiently behind the door, bending down to pet angel on her forehead, only entering the dressing room when he hears a gasp and a squeal of joy. he leans against the door, watching closely as his princess turns around to face him. the boy's mouth hung wide opened, his eyes beginning to gloss up at the sight before him. "wow..." he says, slightly out of breath. he steps towards her, taking her hands in his own. "so beautiful...my princess" she laughs, blushing a little. "thank you...but you know, i'll be your queen soon" he smiles that same smile that makes his eyes disappear into crescent shapes, taking another step closer to kiss her on the lips again.

"oh...i'm about to cry!" mildred's voice rang through the air as she began to tear up. "no, don't! i'll cry as well if you do!" the princess whined, a pout taking over her previous smile. "i swear just a moment ago you two were having an imaginary tea party under the tree...and now...you're getting married!" the royal couple laughs at the old woman's recollection of their childhood, shooting each other happy smiles as the princess wraps her helper into a warm hug.

just then, the familiar face of leehan's own helper enters the room. "your majesty, your presence is requested at the garden...it's for the butterfl-" edmund gets cut off by the prince's loud cough and wide eyes, "yes! i got it, thank you edmund. i'll be there in a second" and he turns over to his fiancee, who wore a curious look on her complexion. "i gotta go check this...this um...thing out. i'll see you tonight, yeah?" he says, holding her hands and looking straight into her eyes. "mhm, and we'll be married tomorrow!" her excitement makes him giggle, "that, we will be. i love you, your highness" leehan says finally, ending his sentence off with a dramatic bow to which yn rolls her eyes, "i love you too, your majesty" he kisses her hand, nodding towards her helper and dressers in the room before they parted ways.

"so...what do we think, your majesty?" prince leehan smiles widely, "it's perfect...i can't wait for her to see this tomorrow!" the boy nods, shaking the hands of the wedding organizer as he thanks him profusely. edmund pats the royal's back softly, "your big day...it's finally coming true, hm?" the butler asks as he and the soon-to-be groom stared off at the garden that was being fixed and decorated for their reception that awaited them in the morning. the boy nods, "i can't believe it..." he says, his voice softening towards the end. "i hope she likes the surprise..." now the prince's voice come out shaky, his nerves suddenly taking over his body. edmund just chuckles, a firm grip placed against his majesty's shoulder. "you're making her biggest dreams come true..."

"i'm sure she'll just love it..."

that night, after sharing a meal with their parents who were ready to give them the responsibility of the throne, the royal couple take a walk alone through one of the many pathways within the castle grounds, taking a moment to be with just each other before their big day.

"i can't wait for tomorrow..." yn says, hands intertwined with leehan's as she looked up at the starry night sky. his eyes are fixed on her, a smile against his lips at the simple sight of the love of his life. "me neither" he says, his voice a bit more quiet than usual, so as to not wake the sleeping horses in the stable they had walked by. "that thing edmund asked you to check in the garden, what was it?" the princess wonders, looking to face him now. the prince stutters softly, not expecting her to bring it up. "um...it's nothing...ugh" he sighs, stopping his feet and grabbing onto her other hand, staring right into her eyes. "what if i say i managed to make your childhood dreams come true?" she furrows her eyebrows, "darling, i've had a thousand different childhood dreams, which one are we talking about?" he chuckles, continuing to walk again. "it's a surprise...but it's something you once told me under the garden tree" the girl's eyebrows remained tied together, racking her brain as she tried to remember every single thing her younger self had told him before.

leehan laughs, moving the hand that was intertwined with hers to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his grasp. "don't think about it too much, love" he says, pressing a kiss against her hair that smelled of daisies. "you'll see it in just a few hours, anyways" yn pouts, leaning deeper into his embrace. "i don't know if i can wait that long...especially since we aren't allowed to see each other until the reception tomorrow" the boy nods, "i wish they'd let us sleep together, i don't know if i can even sleep tonight" she continues, and he just listens, the same way he always did when they were kids- when she'd talk her own ear off, allowing his to take in all her words.

they made it back into the palace, sharing one last kiss before they were to separate, forbidden from being with each other until the event that awaits them tomorrow. the biggest event to take place in the kingdom for that month. an event that only happens every few years or so...

the royal wedding.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"mildred, i might cry! i've never been this nervous in my life! what if i slip on the floor? what if i accidentally say the wrong words? what if-" the bride is stopped by her helper's hands against the exposed skin of her shoulders. "your highness, yn, it's all gonna be just fine. don't worry too much!" the old woman reassures, earning a worried nod in return from the princess. "excuse me, mildred. do you mind leaving us for a moment?" the sound of the queen's voice spoke from the near the door, the king standing tall beside her. "yes, of course! your highness, your majesty" she nods, bowing down as she leaves the room.

"hi, darling..." the king speaks, making his way over to sit beside his daughter who had slumped herself down on the soft velvet sofa, her mother on the other side of her, and the old white cat purring silently on the floor below them. "how are you feeling, my princess?" the man asks, a hand gently pressed against her shoulder. yn sighs, "i'm most excited for this wedding. it's like my biggest dream coming true..." she trails off, eyes wandering over to the mirror that stood close to where they sat. "but?" the queen asks, stroking a hand through her daughter's hair that got caught against the zipper of her corseted gown. "nothing. i just can't help but be a little nervous, that's all" the royal parents smile softly at their one and only child, her mother shifts slightly before getting up, pulling the bride up with her.

"come to the mirror, i have something for you"

the princess meets with her reflection, smiling adoringly at the most beautiful gown they had gotten custom made to suit her taste. like most wedding dresses, it was white. her shoulders and neck bare as the tulle material of the sleeves fell lightly against her forearms. the corset around her waist tightened to just the right amount so she could still talk without getting out of breath. the skirt of her gown sat atop her petticoat, an abundant amount of fabric layered on top of one another to create a slight train at the very end. her hands had been adorned in a pair of lace gloves, matching the lace hanging off the ends of her bustier. a satin sash in her kingdom's colours wrap around her body and her arms move up to straighten the tiara on her head and she makes eye contact with her mother through the mirror, breathing heavily as she awaits the gift.

the king had gotten off his seat as well, standing right beside his two beloved girls as he watched his wife pull out a shining silver necklace out from the velvet pouch it was previously kept in. "this was my grandmother's...and then my mother's and then mine...and now..." her mother trails off, yn's eyes gleaming at the piece of jewellery that touched against her neck. a cold chain, and in the center an entanglement of metal that encased a single pink gemstone, forming the shape of a heart. "now it's yours" the queen smiles, almost bursting into tears at the sight of her beautiful princess about to be married. "mama..." the bride coos, twirling around to embrace her mother into the warmest of hugs, an arm waving off to the side to invite her father into the moment as well, a loud meow in protest from her pet who seemed to have wanted to be included as well.

"oh...our princess" the king says in between sniffles, "you're going to be an amazing ruler, i just know it" he finishes, earning nods from the now tearful bride. the queen sighs when her eyes make contact with the clock, "we better get to our seats...we'll see you out there, love" she says, giving her daughter one last hug. "c'mon angel, your mother is about to be wedded!" the man says, picking up the feline from the ground. yn smiles, "i love you guys" they shoot her a pair of sweet eyes,

"we love you more, our princess- no, our queen...

good luck out there, we'll be waiting for you"

no longer than thirty minutes more went by, the sound of triumphant cheers coming in from outside the palace walls ringing in the wedding attendees' ears. the guests all rise as per requested by the host, the sound of royal trumpets blasting from each side of the large garden as the groom entered the reception. prince leehan wore a proud smile on his face, bowing and waving as he walked down the carpeted aisle. his tailored suit fit perfectly onto his body, a small handkerchief the same colours as his kingdom's flag peaking out of the tiny pocket near his chest as well as a sash in the same shades crossed over his body from one of his shoulders. the groom's hair was slicked in pomade, neatly tucked behind his ears, his handsome face crystal clear for everyone to see. leehan shakes the hands of his own parents as well as his bride's, standing up straight beside the wedding bearer at the elevated end of the aisle. he sighs nervously, staring at the floor for a second as he awaits his soon-to-be wife.

the loud trumpets were long gone and replaced with the sound of soft piano. he's familiar with the tune for it's a part of the soundtrack of one of her favourite films. the piano duet that victor and emily shared in the corpse bride. he chuckles lightly to himself when he remembers their conversation a while back. as they were watching the movie in his room at his own palace, a smile on the girl's face as she told him how badly she needed the song to play at her dream wedding as she walked down the aisle. the way that it did here now. the sound of the garden's large gates opening caused the boy to look up, a look of awe washing over his face as the beautiful girl he gets to marry today is finally revealed.

princess yn trots slowly behind her two little cousins who scattered a variety of flowers onto the pathway in which she walked. she waves at the guests who's eyes were all locked onto her, a smile growing against her pretty lips as she finally makes it over to him. "wow..." the groom whispers, mouth agape as he stares into his bride's bright eyes, his own ones almost bursting into a billion tears. the girl giggles slightly, a blush beginning to grow against her cheeks. the couple is about to share another laugh at how the garden filled with a sudden silence, the reality of their wedding hitting them hard on their heads like the pitter-pattering of rain against windows, but the sound of the wedding bearer clearing his throat and beginning to speak interrupts their otherwise blissful moment.

"beloved guests! today we celebrate a special day of togetherness. the day we join two kingdoms' hands, and form one! the wedding and coronation of our future rulers..." the man's voice is loud and clear, as if he were speaking into an invisible mic. the pair about to be wedded can't help but stare at each other, their ears threatening to blur out the sounds of their surroundings. "prince leehan and princess yn, please proceed with your vows"

the groom steps forward to pick up both of the princess' hands, staring deeply into her eyes once more before he began to speak. "yn ln...i've known you since that day we met at a royal ball when we were just three years old. for years after that i'd cherish every moment we spent, circling my palace or having tea with your teddy bears under the tree..." the girl can feel the tears trying to escape as she listened intently to his every word. "when we were five i swore to protect you from all the evil that came in your way, sticking up my wooden sword up in the air when we agreed to get married. and here i am now...taking your hands in my own, and asking you to be my wife" he ends his sentence softly, turning for a moment to retrieve the ring from it's cushion that the bearer held. leehan smiles at her once again, trying his best not to cry as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

it was the bride's turn to speak now, though after all of the things he had just said it seemed her vows flew right out of her head. "you know...i grew up having about a dozen new dreams for every second that i stood awake. but within those ever-changing wishes lied one that remained the same, until now." her voice began to shake, she blinks rapidly to prevent any form of liquid to seep out of her eyes. "i've always dreamed of our wedding, the day you would be mine forever. and even though it always felt like it was set in stone, i still can't believe i'm standing here before you. just mere seconds before becoming your wife, for real!" a laugh escapes the groom's lips at the tone of which she spoke, his eyes opening up again as she turns to pick up the second ring that sat on the same cushion. "i love you, kim leehan. thank you for making my dreams come true" her vows come to an end as she, too, slips the ring into his finger. the prince smiles at her, an oddly suspicious look pressed against the features on his face. the princess cocks an eyebrow up in confusion.

"i have one more dream of yours to bring to life"

before she could even question him, the boy turns to nod at the wedding bearer who smiled at him cheerfully. "i officially announce you husband and wife! you may now, kiss the bride!" the man exclaimed, followed by the blow of a loud whistle he had taken out of his cloak. "what?" the girl was cut off as her groom pulled her into his chest, both hands against her face as their lips smashed into each other's. their eyes were closed for a moment, basking into the loving atmosphere before they separated. yn's eyes opened, a gasp escaping her lips at the new scene that surrounded her.

about a thousand blue butterflies had been released, fluttering over the whole garden, decorating the skies of their reception. she turns to face him, the tears just a second away from bursting out of her eyes. "remember..." he says, moving closer to wrap his arms around her waist. "you once told me that something you really really wanted at our wedding..." both their eyes wandered off to the sky, "a billion blue butterflies...i couldn't get a billion, so please make do with the thousand" the boy laughs but yn can't hold it in anymore, a single droplet dripping from the side of her glossy eyes. leehan chuckled, cupping her face and wiping away her tears. "i love you, my queen" and she just smiles, leaning her forehead against his, a butterfly landing against her shoulder.

"i love you too, my king"

the guests all stand up to cheer, as did the residents of the kingdom that still stood crowding the outside of the palace. the parents of the newly wedded couple get up as well, embracing each other and their children in hugs and kisses, joyous at the joining of their families through the young love of their off-springs.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

the newly weds watched from a corner as their guests continued to dance and drink till the skies got dark, giggling softly as they caught mildred and edmund dancing in tears together across the room. yn shivers slightly, the wind of the evening brushing against her bare shoulders. leehan smiles, taking off the blazer of his suit and gently wrapping it around her. "thank you" she says, leaning her head against his side. "no problem, love" he replies, placing a hand on her back.

"the butterflies were amazing, i can't believe you remembered that" the girl laughs, her gaze now fixed onto angel, who was busy trying to claw at one of the pretty insects. "i'm glad you liked them, they were a pain to organize though" he complains playfully, nuzzling his nose against her hair causing the crown on her head to tilt off to the side. "it's perfect" she says, eyes trailing around to follow the way her guests waltzed around the area. he's doing the same, glancing to the scene and then back at her every now and then. "yeah...." he starts, voice quieting down before picking back up again. "it's missing something though..." leehan says, turning fully to his wife who began to nod along with him, as if she knew exactly what her husband was thinking. and then they opened their mouths at the same time, giggling when the exact same silly sentence left their smiley mouths.

"the hundred tier chocolate cake."

the future king takes his future queen's hand in one of his own, the other one pointing towards the dance floor. "your highness, may i please have this dance?" leehan speaks in a so-called heroic voice, his chest puffed out the same he used to when they played make-believe together as kids. yn giggles, nodding along to her husband's act and playing along with him.

"of course, your majesty"

and they lived happily ever after...

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

MOMMY I WANT MY OWN PRINCE LEEHAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope u guys enjoyed this silly fairytale <3 hehe they're such a cute royal couple but also prayers for the kingdom they're about to rule together.....TT reblogs n feedbacks r always appreciated!! tysm for reading! love, kona.

[into-the-grey]

~It's Raining, It's Pouring~

Noah x F!Reader fic

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Mild Smut and some Angst

Sometimes, people are just meant to be in each others lives. And sometimes, magic happens.

Warnings: mentions of SH, allusions towards Suicide, allusions towards abusive family, mentions of death, brief smut (theyre both 18 by this point), high school, mental illness, panic attack, divorce, mild jealousy

WC: 13.2k

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

RIP my YouTube history, I think I played It’s Raining, It’s Pouring by Anson Seabra for 7 hours straight working on this. Also, the tense probably changes a few times because I never write in second person, I apologise for that, still learning a bit. It might go from past to present tense and back again a few times. This is a new format, and a new way of writing for me, so let's see how it goes.

Fic Masterlist

Alright; ON WITH THE SHOW

Once upon a time, there were two people. Those two people were star-crossed, fated, meant to be. All of the romantic stories could have been about them. It wasn't a grand adventure for him to find her, and he didn't have to save her from a dragon. And she had never been locked in a tower, or forced into slavery by an evil step-mother.

No.

No, it was much simpler than that.

You. You were the one who lived in the house down the street. The house that he rode past every day on his bike when he was young. You were the one he used to see in the neighbourhood, playing with your friends and climbing the tree at the end of the block that all the kids were convinced was a magic wishing tree.

You were the one who came to school with notes in your lunchbox from your mom and knew that you were loved.

And him? He was the kid with the witch for a mom. She wasn't really a witch, but she scared a lot of the kids on the block. She would stand in the street, yelling for him to come home, and if he didn't show up, she'd give up and lock him out for the night. He was the one who came to school with bags under his eyes wearing the same hoodie he'd been wearing for a week.

He was the one who would look at all the kids around him, wishing he could be like you.

You found him in the wishing tree once. That day, you ran down the block, adamant that the tree would help you pass a test in your fourth grade science class. As an adult, you know how stupid you were, but back then it was the most obvious answer.

He was in the tree, high up in it's branches. He huddled in on himself as the cold wind whipped against his skin. He was alone, but his lips moved as tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes fixed on you as you climbed higher, his lips pressing into a thin line as he watched you nervously.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

'Hi,' you said brightly, seeing his pain. You didn't know how to help him, and your eight year old brain couldn't imagine the gravity of his troubles. All you were sure of was that he was there, and he was upset. 'What are you wishing for?'

'Nothing.' His lie was blunt, and his eyes flitted away from you as he sniffed hard against his tears. He drew his heels in under himself as he perched on the thickest branch, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees while he shivered.

'Oh,' you said softly. 'I was going to wish for help on my test tomorrow. It's a science test and I suck at science. But, if you want, I can wish for whatever you were wishing for? It might help to have more than one person wishing for it?'

He scoffed, his deep brown eyes looking you over quickly before returning his hard stare back to his purpling fingers.

'A science test? Why didn't you just study?' he asked, his voice low. His hard shell seemed to crack as he glanced back at you a few times.

'I got distracted,' you admitted. 'A lot. Focussing is kind of hard for me, my mom says I have attention problems, but my dad thinks I'm just making it up to get people to feel sorry for me.' You leaned against a branch, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of your pale blue hoodie. 'Sometimes my brain goes too fast though, and I can't read or I say stupid things that I don't mean. It's embarrassing.'

'Like offering a wish to a stranger?' he said, a snip in his voice. The words cut through you, stinging as you digested them. Your lip jutted out in a pout as you felt your gut twisting from his insult.

'Yeah,' you nodded sadly 'I guess...'

Your turned dejectedly, wishing silently for the boy to learn some manners, and grabbing the branch to lower yourself down.

'Wait,' he called. Your head snapped back to him, seeing him staring at you. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.'

You smiled weakly up at him, and after a brief pause, you made your choice. You scaled the branches and hauled yourself up to his level. As you reached him, you sat on the only other branch that stays steady under your weight, just above him in the dying leaves. The cool breeze rustled through the leaves, a few coming loose and drifting around you while the sky above darkened.

'I'm Y/N,' you said, pulling your hood up to protect you from the chill. Your introduction sounded eager, like you were asking for something. Mentally you kicked yourself, but he seemed receptive.

'I know, I've seen you at school,' he told you, shifting slightly to face you. He chewed the inside of his lip while he wiped his sleeves over his face, trying to erase the traces of his tears. No matter how hard he wiped, there was no way for him to erase the hollow sadness in his eyes. The moment you saw it, you knew there was more to this boy than he let on.

'I've seen you too. You're in Miss Forson's class, right?' you asked. You watched him nod slowly.

'Yeah. My name is Noah. You've probably heard it being yelled down the street enough times...'

'That's your mom, isn't it? The one who stands on the lawn yelling?'

Noah nodded, his cheeks flushing red and hanging his head. He clenched his fists and sniffed again, tears welling in his eyes.

'Yeah, that's her.'

'You're hiding from her, right?' you prodded.

'Yeah,' he said, his voice thick as he swallowed down the pain welling in his chest.

'Do you do that a lot?'

He nodded again, unable to look at you now. Your face fell, watching him picking at his nails and seeing his lip quiver.

'If you want, my mom would probably let you stay at my house? We could play my playstation for a while?' you offered. 'But, you gotta help me with my science test, just for a little while so my mom thinks you're not just there to distract me.' You giggled when you saw the corner of his lips lift into a smile. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

'Are you sure?' he asked timidly, looking at you with a glint of hope. 'I'm not really good at science...'

'That's okay, I'm not really good at playstation,' you told him.

A fat raindrop fell through the branches and the leaves, landing smack dab on your head with a pronounced 'plop'. You reached for your hair, feeling the wet spot and giggling more.

More raindrops fell, slowly turning the sidewalk below into a picture of grey polka dots. Noah followed your gaze, seeing the drops colouring in the concrete.

'I guess it's better than being out here in the rain,' he agreed, finally releasing his knees from his vice grip and stretching out to reach the branch below him to begin his descent. You smiled at him, following his lead and dropping off your branch.

Once you were on solid ground and you had a moment, you looked at him. Shaggy brown hair hung in his warm hazel eyes. A light dusting of freckles covered his nose, and a gentle smile lifted his pink lips. He stood only just taller than you, maybe an inch? An inch and a half at most.

You offered him your hand, leading him down the street towards your house. He walked slowly, letting the raindrops fall on the both of you. Normally, you'd run for home to get out of the rain, but something about him made the rain less intimidating. You felt safe with him the moment you saw him in that tree.

What you didn't know was that he felt safe with you too. A stark contrast to how things were at home. Noah had a strained relationship with his mom, and he never told you just how bad things were, but you knew it was worse than he let on.

He found solace in you and your home. Your mom welcomed him in, knowing exactly who he was and who his mom was. Noah's mom was known around the street, and a few of the parents in the neighbourhood were familiar with Noah's hiding spots. They would all keep a quiet eye on him whenever they saw him near their houses, knowing that someone had to.

When you brought him home to your mom, she didn't question anything. The two of you stood on the front doorstep, dripping and cold, and all your mom did was laugh and find you two the biggest fluffiest towels in the house. She brought you inside and found you a change of clothes, letting Noah have one of your oversized pokemon t-shirts and a pair of your dad's old gym shorts.

Your dad wasn't happy about it, but your mom shut him up. Never in front of you or Noah though. She wouldn't dare fight with your dad in front of the two of you, but you didn't miss the pointed glares she would shoot at him over the dinner table when your dad would make a remark.

Noah became a staple in your house, feeling safer there than at home. You liked having him there too, he was a lot smarter than he let on, and he was funny. Plus, he was really good at the playstation, he could help you beat the tougher levels. He even completed Crash Bandicoot for you when you got stuck on the hog riding level. And yes, he helped you with your science test, and you passed.

Some nights, Noah would sneak in through the dog door in the laundry and creep into your room. The first time he did it, it scared the hell out of you, but you got used to it quickly. Those nights were hard. He would wake you up in tears, but he would never tell you why. And when he did, you would simply scooch over and let him into the bed, rubbing his back while he cried himself to sleep.

Your dad would always ask who left the dog door open. Your mom never admitted it, but there were a few nights that you caught her unlocking it before she went to bed.

You two grew up together. Joined at the hip, you went everywhere together, did everything together...

And then high school happened. The first year was supposed to be exciting, you were meant to be enjoying life and all the perks that came with being high schoolers. Instead, your parents got a divorce.

Noah held you while you cried, fearing that your dad would try and make you move to Topeka with him. He mourned the breaking apart of your family with you, and he kept you distracted by playing video games with you or by hiding in the wishing tree with you.

Your mom gave him a key to the house the day your dad moved out, telling him he didn't need to sneak through the dog door anymore. He hugged your mom, unable to find the words to thank her. She even cleared out your dad's study and turned it into a bedroom for him.

Then came the awkward "talk". Your mom sat you down on the couch one day when Noah wasn't there, telling you that while she understood you two were close, that sex is a big deal and if you're not ready, then you can always tell him no.

She didn't judge, but she taught you all about protection, and asked that you wait until you were sure.

You laughed at her, telling her that there was no way you'd ever have sex with Noah. He was your best friend, and you told her you didn't feel that way about him. She just smirked at you, nodding and saying 'okay.'

But when you went to bed that night, you couldn't help thinking about it. You felt weird as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling with the images of Noah on top of you flashing through your mind.

Maybe you did feel that way, but you would never dare tell him.

That night, when Noah crept into your room, you comforted him and you felt butterflies as you held him. Silently, you cursed your mother for making you think about him that way, but you didn't let on that anything had changed.

At school, you joined music class with Noah, and he found something in himself. You watched him beam whenever he touched a keyboard or picked up a guitar. Lyrics seemed to flow from him like a fountain. He was magical.

You wished you were as good as him. But through music, he found his friend Nick. Nick was nice, and he hung out with you guys at lunch, but at the end of the day, Noah would come home to you. You tried to like Nick, but you couldn't help that teenage bubble of jealousy as he and Noah bonded over something that you just couldn't do.

And then Noah left. He just stopped coming to school.

The first day, you texted him and asked him where he was. He was blunt, telling you he wasn't coming. You assumed that he was just sick, or skipping for the day. But one day turned into two. Two became three. Three became a week. A week became a month.

After that, you knew to just let him sleep when you got up in the mornings. At least he was still in your room, still with you.

He got a job to fill his days, working at Nick's family's tattoo studio. Noah wasn't the art type, he couldn't really draw, so he never picked up a tattoo gun, but the money wasn't bad. He would bring you little trinkets and gifts sometimes. He even saved up to buy himself a car. It was an absolute piece of shit, but it ran, it got good gas mileage, and it had a stereo.

Then came the nights where you would drive around aimlessly, discovering more and more of Richmond as you belted out the words to any song you knew. Sometimes Nick would come with you, but you liked it better when it was just you and Noah.

He was growing up, and you loved seeing who he was becoming. He was still the awkward introverted boy you knew, but he was blossoming into a musician. Your mom even bought him a guitar one christmas, making him cry. Because he could finally practice again, he found his way into a cover band. You were their number one fan, and your mom was a close second. She cheered him on in any way she could.

You kept going to school though. You didn't have a choice, you weren't good enough at anything to take the creative path. Every day you wished Noah was there, but you did your best without him. Class was harder without him. It had been years of the two of you side by side, Noah helping you to understand the questions that didn't make sense to you. He would even read the questions aloud to you if you needed it. Now, your grades were slipping. You didn't have your support system, and no one else seemed to believe that it was that hard.

He would help with your homework, but it was getting harder. He'd never learned the subject matter, so he could only do so much. You'd let him read your textbooks, but sometimes neither of you understood what the hell the textbooks were talking about.

One night, a particular project had overstressed you. He held you while you cried, running his fingers through your hair while you tried to compose yourself.

'I can't fucking do this,' you choked, your arms around him while he rested his chin on your head. When did he get so tall?

'You can, it's just your brain,' he shushed you, his voice soft and his arms strong as he held you together. 'There's too much going on in there, isn't there?'

'There always is, you know that,' you told him, letting him sit you down on the side of your bed.

'And what do we normally do about it?' he asked gently, holding your hands and squeezing lightly. As he sat in front of you, you found yourself staring at him, your mouth hanging open while you panted through the tears.

He had the beginnings of a sleeve colouring his arm, the ink peeking out under his three-quarter sleeves. A shiny dermal piercing sat in his cheek, glinting under the low light of your bedside lamp. His warm brown hair hung down almost to his chest, always a layered mess.

But his eyes, those warm brown eyes. They were still the eyes of that boy from so many years ago, searching for comfort in yours. Offering you comfort with him. In them, you could see how much your pain hurt him, and how hard he tried to hide it.

'I don't know if can talk about it,' you whimpered, your gaze shifting to his hands. His long, slender fingers, wrapped up in your shorter, pinker ones. His thumb grazed over your knuckle supportively.

'There's nothing you can't tell me,' he said, both gently and firmly. 'What's different now?'

'Everything.'

'Y/N...' he whispered, shuffling closer. His hands ran gingerly up your arms, and you couldn't help flinching. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as heavy tears blurred your vision. You were thankful, you didn't want to see the pain in his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

'Why?' he asked. You knew he knew. It had been a while since you'd done that. You'd been clean since your dad gave up on trying to move you to Topeka. You hadn't needed it...

But school, the projects, the frustration of your brain not working right...

You hadn't felt good enough in a long time. Like something in you was broken. And even though you could normally talk to Noah about these things, Noah had found his people. He found his thing, the thing he was good at. You didn't have that. You were convinced he wouldn't understand anymore.

'I'm not right. I can't do the things everyone else can do,' you whispered. 'My grades are going to shit, and everyone thinks I'm just being lazy, but I just can't fucking do it. No one believes me-' you tell him, crumpling in on yourself as your voice breaks. 'I'm fucking def-fective,' you coughed.

Noah grabbed you, pulling you into his chest and holding you tightly, whispering into your ear.

'You are not defective. You are not lazy, or broken, or any of that bullshit. It's not your fault,' he told you, swaying you back and forth in his grip while he buried his nose in your hair.

'I-' you tried to start, but he shushes you, knowing whatever you were going to say would be negative.

'No, you are the kindest, smartest, most hard-working person I know,' he told you. 'You care so fucking much about other people. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here, that's for sure. It's not your fault that you can't always figure out what the fuck those textbooks say. They're stupid fucking books anyway, written by snooty old guys with nothing better to do than write rules about how numbers should work or brag about how war is great when you win one.'

'Noah-'

'Nope, I'm not done,' he stopped you. 'You don't need to think like them. You think like you, and the way you think is magical. You are so special, and that's what matters. You might not be great at science or math, but you make the most amazing paintings I've ever seen. You write the best stories, and you sing better than half the guys who auditioned for my band. Don't you ever doubt yourself, okay?'

His arms lock tighter around you as his voice hitches in his throat. You nod against him, your arms around his narrow chest. His width had yet to catch up to his height, he was still skinny as anything, but he still gave fantastic hugs.

'I'm sorry-' you try to say, but again, he stops you.

'You. Are. Incredible,' he tells you, punctuating each word as he finds your face and looks at your bloodshot and puffy eyes. 'And you are everything to me, got it? Please, don't ever take yourself away from me like that. I care about you way too much to lose you to that.'

You nod, releasing an arm and wiping your face with your sleeve.

'Y/N,' he breathes, 'I mean it. Please, don't go anywhere.'

Your heart breaks as his firm voice slips, instead pleading with you now.

'I promise,' you tell him, swallowing hard past the lump in your throat. 'I care about you too much to leave you behind.'

'Good.'

Pulling you back into a tight hug, he doesn't tell you that he meant more with those words than you understood. He had for a while. And so had you. Both of you caught in the limbo of what you each thought were unrequited feelings, and neither one of you brave enough to tell the other about the butterflies in your bellies. Neither of you dared to speak the three words that your hearts yearned to say.

I care about you?

No.

I love you.

More than life itself.

Noah made a point to be around a lot more after that night. Sure, he was always around, but he slept in your bed a lot more after that. He watched as your long sleeves became tank tops, always checking to make sure the scars stayed scars.

He even offered to get Nick to tattoo you to cover them up, going as far as asking your mom if she would let you. To your dismay, your mom was against that idea. She let you get away with a lot, but an underage tattoo was toeing the line.

It didn't stop you from getting a tattoo though. It just meant you put it somewhere your mom wouldn't see it. You got Nick to tattoo it on the front of your hip, somewhere even a bikini would cover it.

A little tree, just like the one at the end of the block. Noah held your hand while the needle dragged across your skin, the bony parts hurting the worst. Nick chuckled while you squeezed your eyes shut tight and grimaced at the worst of it.

Finally, senior year rolled around. The best and worst year of your life.

Finally, someone believed you. At school, there was a new counsellor. She recognised something in you that no one else had. You called Noah the second she told you about the letters that changed your life.

ADHD.

That's why you had been struggling so much. That's why things never made sense the first time. Noah celebrated with you when you got home that afternoon, and he went with you to talk to your mom about it.

Your mom was just as excited for you to have an answer, agreeing to help you seek treatment. She couldn't get on the phone to your doctor fast enough. Finally, something made sense. A chance at normalcy...

Noah took you for a drive that night, the two of you sitting in the front seat of the car and screaming along to all the songs on your shared playlist. He drove you out to a lookout and the two of you watched the stars, talking about how different things could be.

He told you about his side project from his cover band, Man Vs Self. He was excited about it, and Nick was getting involved too, and Vincent. You weren't completely familiar with Vincent, but from the few encounters you'd had with him, he seemed nice enough.

He showed you some of the things he was working on for the band, and you had to admit, it was good. Not that you expected any less from him. Noah couldn't make something bad if he tried, it's like it was against his nature.

While you two sat there, you googled everything you could about ADHD, learning more about how your brain worked. A part of you mourned how your life could have been if you had been diagnosed earlier. Things could have been so different, so much easier..

But without the struggle, you never would have found Noah. And you wouldn't change that for the world, and neither would he.

If only things could be so simple forever.

But time marches ever onward, and life goes on.

Noah's band picked up. And after a while, you noticed him withdraw. There was something there, something he didn't want to tell you. Whenever you asked him what was bothering him, he would shy away from the topic, trying to change it quickly.

After a few weeks of pushing, you finally got the answer. He was leaving.

He cried as he told you, telling you he had been seriously considering backing out so he could stay with you. Knowing how much you needed him, it was killing him to choose between making this demo in Jersey or staying with you.

So you chose for him. You told him to go. You told him how much he would hate himself if he didn't try; that if he didn't go for it, he'd never know how far he could go.

You asked him how much time you had left. He told you that you had a month, and that he had no idea what would happen after. For that month, he worked his ass off on that demo, doing everything he could to have it ready to record, but he spent every night with you, promising you that this wasn't goodbye.

The night before he left, the two of you sat in the wishing tree and talked all night. He carved your names into the branches that you'd been sitting on when you met. He held your hand tightly, promising you that he'd come back.

And then he left. You and your mom stood on the driveway, sending him off with a bag of snacks and the tightest hug the two of you had ever shared before your mom came in with a group hug. She told Noah that she was proud of him, a phrase that brought tears to his eyes.

As he drove away in that cramped car, your mom kept her arm around you. The pair of you waved goodbye, watching him disappear down the road. You were thankful he didn't see the tears in your eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Your mom held you together while you cried for most of the day. And that night, you snuck down to the wishing tree. You scaled its branches, climbing to the high branch that you sat on the day you met Noah and pulling your knees into your chest.

Silently, you whispered to the universe, making yet another wish.

You wished for his success, for him to be brave, and to push through anything this industry could throw at him. But most of all, you wished for him to come back.

Weeks passed, and the end of the school year drew closer. Promposals were exchanged at school, but no one asked you. Your friends all had dates, while you debated if you even wanted to go.

You told Noah as much on one of your nightly calls. You had fallen into a rhythm with him, waiting for him to call you when he was going to bed. Sometimes you had to call him, now that you had a job to fill your time.

It wasn't much, just stacking shelves at the local record store, but it paid better than fast food or waiting tables did.

As prom drew closer, you found Noah egging you to go. He even dared you once. You knew you couldn't say no to a dare, and your mom was more than willing to take you dress shopping.

She found you a beautiful dress, and it cost a small fortune, but she was adamant that you needed to go. Something about a 'rite of passage for a young woman' and 'regretting if you don't go.'

So you did. You went to prom, alone, in your beautiful forest green dress. The colour of the leaves on the wishing tree. And you hated every second of it. You stood in the back of the room, watching all the couples slow dancing while you sipped at a plastic cup of spiked punch.

Until a hand graced your arm.

'Care to dance?' he asked you. You turned, hope blooming in your chest.

But it wasn't him. It was someone else, Jacob? Joshua? You never learned this guy's name. He was a theatre kid with cropped black hair and too-tight skinny jeans. Sure, he was nice, but it wasn't Noah.

So you shook your head.

'Thanks, but I'm good. I was thinking I might head off.'

He just nodded at you, wandering off in search of a different dance partner.

And you did. You left, wandering out of the school gym and through the halls. You didn't cry, even though you really wanted to. You kicked your heels off and scooped them up as you walked through the quiet halls, the music echoing behind you as it seemed to taunt you.

Outside, the cool night air sunk into your skin, a welcome change from the stuffy air of the gym.

You were about to shortcut across the grass to get to the parking lot where you had parked the car. Your mom had loaned you hers for the evening, and you figured if she thought you were out for the night, she wouldn't mind if you went for a drive, as long as you put gas in it before returning it.

A car came careening into the lot as you stepped onto the wet lawn, grass sticking to your bare feet as you moved. The car came to a stop, and the engine silenced. His voice rang out across the parking lot, your head snapping over to him the moment you heard it.

Noah.

He slammed the car door, running over to you as fast as he could. Your heart stopped as you looked at him. He was dressed in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest, and a skinny tie hanging from his neck.

You grinned, tears pricking at your eyes as you ran at him, throwing your shoes on the ground. You threw your arms around him and sank into his grip, feeling him hold you like his life depended on it.

'Were you leaving?' he asked as he squeezed you tightly, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

'I didn't have anyone to dance with,' you told him with a shrug. 'Plus, it's kinda crap in there, the music isn't even that good. You came a long way for nothing,' you joked.

'Definitely not nothing,' he told you, pulling back and looking down at you. You missed his eyes, and the way he smiled at you. Your heart fluttered as he grinned down at you.

'Oh?' you asked him, 'so what really made you come back? If the renowned draw of prom night sex wasn't the reason, it must be really good.'

He smirked as you teased him.

'Well, there's this girl I really like, and while I was gone the guys told me I should really talk to her and tell her how I feel about her. They had a point, so I was kind of hoping you could help me out with that?' He asked nervously.

You could feel his hands trembling as he laced his fingers with yours. You didn't dare let your smile falter. He couldn't know how much your heart was breaking at the idea of there being someone else.

'I mean, I can... but you've gotta tell me who she is before I can help,' you said, trying to keep that teasing tone in your voice.

Noah shook his head, chewing the inside of his lip nervously.

'She's probably the kindest, sweetest, funniest girl I've ever met. Y/N, I think I'm in love with her, I've just been too scared to tell her because I didn't want to lose her.'

'Noah-' you breathed, stepping back. You wanted so desperately to be right, but you needed to hear it from him. You watched as he took a deep breath, locking his eyes on yours.

'I love you, Y/N. So much.' he finally said, pulling you back to him and lifting his hand to your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat at his touch.

All those nights of picturing what it could be like, the tingles at his touch, the thoughts you had tried to squash, it all came flooding forward. There was no denying it now. You were desperately in love with him too, and you didn't need to hide it anymore. The butterflies were free, no longer being squashed down and digested. You felt like you could float as he drew nearer.

Your breath quickened, your hand running up his chest and resting over his heart. You could feel it hammering beneath your fingers as you smiled up at him. In his eyes, you could see his fear while he hung on every breath, waiting for your answer.

'I love you, Noah. You have no idea how much I love you.'

A relieved laugh left his lips, and he leaned in. His lips brushed yours. At first it was tender, learning how you felt, how you kissed. After a moment, the kiss became confident, your arm wrapped around his neck while his hand rested on your lower back, holding you to him.

His taste intoxicated you, and in seconds he became the addiction you knew you would never be able to break. He felt the same. He knew he would never be the same, in that moment you became his air.

A hissing sound broke you apart, and the pair of you looked around. You were still alone, and there were no obvious signs of where the noise was coming from.

Until the sprinklers started, the cold mist spraying over both of you. You squealed, jumping in his grip and feeling him pull you in tight against his chest as the two of you cried out.

He was the first to laugh, and you followed close behind. You had met in the rain, it was only right that you confessed your love for each other the same way, even if the rain wasn't real.

'My shoes!' you cried out, looking behind you to where your heels glinted under the haze of mist.

'I got it!' he told you, releasing you and running through the brunt of the spray. You couldn't help but laugh as his hair deflated while he scrambled across the slick grass, grabbing for the shoes.

He scooped them up and turned to run back to you, but you had other plans. Instead, as he turned, he crashed into your drenched form and his arms wrapped around you again.

Your lips crashed to his, putting all the feeling you had been holding back for years into the kiss. He kissed you just as passionately, and both of you giggled as the water soaked you both to the bone.

'When I said you're everything to me, I meant it,' he told you, his forehead resting on yours as he smiled at you.

'I wish I had said something before you left,' you said, letting him sway you gently.

'So do I. But, we're here now, and that's all that matters.'

'We should probably go and clean ourselves up though. My mom will kill me if I catch a cold from running around in the sprinklers.'

Noah chuckled, kissing you again before finally releasing you. He took your hand, leading you through the water and over to the car.

'I'll meet you at home? I have to take mom's car back.'

'Okay, but after that, I have somewhere I wanna take you, if you're up for it?'

You agreed, parting with a kiss and practically floating back to your mom's car.

The drive home was agonising, and the lights were all off when you got there. Your mom had gone to bed, expecting you to be out late. You entered the house quietly, tiptoeing across the tiles.

You left the keys on the kitchen counter, grabbing a change of clothes from a basket in the laundry and the two towels from all those years ago. They didn't seem as big or as fluffy anymore, but your mom had embroidered your names into them for you. She knew an origin story when she saw one, and she was sentimental, so naturally, she took it upon herself to hold onto memories for you.

You met Noah outside, clambering into his car and handing him the towel. He grinned like a little kid when he saw it, remembering everything with you.

He wrapped the towel around his shoulders before setting off. The whole drive, all you did was talk. He told you about the demo, you told him about work and school, everything felt so normal. Normal, except for the buzz of adrenaline in the pit of your stomach, the cool rush that you felt every time he took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles.

After a while, he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, grinning as he turned the car off.

'I figured that most people have some kind of after-party, why shouldn't we have our own?' He said, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head at him. He lead you from the car and through the hotel, the two of you looking dreadfully out of place in the gilded lobby in your drenched clothes and fuzzy towels. The concierge even giggled quietly as she watched you get in the elevator.

The room itself was fancier than any hotel you'd ever stayed in, and you wondered how he paid for it. You didn't ask, deciding to just enjoy it. As soon as the door closed, Noah tugged you close to him again, gazing down into his eyes with the sweetest smile on his face. If he kept looking at you like that, you knew you could die happy.

'Say it again?' You asked him quietly, your lips hovering just in front of his.

With a soft chuckle, he happily obliged. 'I love you, Y/N.'

'I love you,' you whispered, letting the space between you disappear again.

He was gentle when he stripped the dress off of you, draping it over a chair to let it dry. You were just as gentle about unbuttoning his vest and his shirt. Together you found your way to the shower, letting the warm water erase the chill from your bones.

Being naked in front of him felt strange, but his tender kisses made it easier. For a while, you stood under the water, wrapped in his embrace. Your head tucked perfectly under his chin, and every now and again he would nose into your hair, leaving feather-light kisses on the skin of your neck. If the water hadn't gone cold, you might have stayed there forever.

He wrapped you in your towel before finding his own. Your heart pounded as you watched him, looking over his growing collection of tattoos and the scars on his back. He caught you watching, and stepped closer to you with a look in his eye.

He reached for you, his fingers running over the scars on your bicep. Together, you were beautifully broken, and together you could build a whole new type of perfect. As you stepped into his embrace, you felt safe. You felt loved. You felt whole.

You were the one who lead him to the bedroom.

He was just as nervous, and both of you giggled as the towels came off. Neither of you had done this before, but it felt right to be doing it with each other.

You paid heed to your mother's warning, thankful to be on the pill, and you were sure you were ready.

He laid you down on the bed, and Noah positioned himself between your legs, slowly pushing himself into you, groaning as he felt your body accept him.

You breathed through the feeling, a sting burning through you as he froze in place and waited for your signal.

'You okay?' He asked as he saw your face screw up in discomfort.

'Mhmm,' you hummed, 'just getting used to it.'

'For what it's worth, you feel so much better than I ever imagined,' he breathed, kissing your collarbone and up your neck. His words reverberated through you, making you clench around him.

He smirked, taking your face in his hand. 'You like dirty talk?' He asked, surprised and fascinated to learn about what turned you on.

'A little,' you admitted as you held his bicep.

'So if I said something like...' he smirked, dipping low and hovering his lips just next to your ear, his voice barely a whisper, 'you're mine. Only mine. This pussy? It's mine, and I won't stop until you're out of breath and the neighbours know my name.'

He grinned, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling your muscles contract around him, lusciously squeezing him.

'You're so tight, baby, and so wet. Is this all because of me?'

You couldn't help the soft moan as he spoke, beginning to roll his hips against you. The feeling was heavenly despite the stretching feeling. You'd been warned that the first time could hurt, and it was easily bearable.

'Noah,' you whimpered, running your fingers across his skin.

'Does it feel good, baby? God, you feel so good,' he continued, rutting into you slowly. His thrusts were firm, exploring deeper than you'd ever been able to with your fingers.

You dragged his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. Noah happily followed your lead, letting you swipe your tongue over his as you moaned into his mouth.

'Fuck,' you hissed, your back arching. You wanted more, but you were too scared to show him what you needed. You didn't want him to feel inadequate, or think he was doing something wrong, but your clitoris screamed for attention. Your hand kept inching lower, but you couldn't help the anxiety in your stomach.

'Tell me, baby,' he purred, always able to read you. 'Show me.' He took your hand, guiding it between your bodies and resting his fingers atop yours.

You began to draw timid circles over the little nub, feeling Noah trace your movements to learn how you liked it.

You whined his name, and you felt his dick twitch inside you.

'Noah, please,' you begged, 'I think I'm close.'

'Me too, Y/N,' he panted, his cheeks red and his forehead slick with sweat. 'I want to watch you come. I wanna see how good I can be to you.'

The tingles started small, but the more you circled your clitoris, the stronger it became. Whines and groans left your lips, Noah mirroring the sounds.

His gasps were almost enough to have you, but what broke you was the way he said your name. His breathy cries for you as he sped up and reached his peak, sighing and closing his eyes while your body tensed around his.

He emptied himself into you, and you eked it out of him. You'd heard that it was rare to experience an orgasm during your first time, let alone a mutual one, but it happened, and it was so much better than using your fingers.

Noah laid on top of you, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed while he gasped for air, his panting tickling your nipple as he laid his head on your chest.

'I love you,' he told you between deep lungfuls of air.

'I love you,' you repeated, grinning and exhausted, running your fingers through his still wet hair.

If only that night could have lasted forever.

Fate was cruel like that. Fate, and Sumerian Records.

Man vs Self, then called CHLDRN got signed, becoming Bad Omens... You were ecstatic, celebrating with him and Nick and Vincent. Part of you was less thrilled, knowing this meant he would be gone again.

He promised you it wouldn't be for long, only a few weeks at a time. You believed him. But weeks didn't stay weeks.

Weeks became months, and months became moving to LA.

He promised you that he would come home and visit. He swore to you that he would pay to fly you out and you could stay with him. He would text you every day and call you every night, telling you how much he missed you and how much he loved you.

No matter how much you wanted it to be, nightly phone calls and texting weren't enough. Every time it rained, your heart ached for him. You missed his touch, his embrace.

And then the contact started to wane. You would lie awake, waiting for him to call or text you after a show, and some nights he would, but those nights grew further apart.

You would text him first, and you'd be left with no answer.

Your mom watched your heart break in real time. She understood the pain, and she missed Noah too. She felt like she had lost her son. She did all she could to help you cope, but you just felt hollow, like barely a shell of yourself.

Every now and again you would hear from him, and it would tear open that wound again. Finally, you had to call it what it was.

Dead.

You called him, knowing that this phone call would be the hardest call you'd ever had to make. You told him that no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't handle the heartache. His home wasn't with you anymore, and you couldn't have a home with him. Not right now.

He begged you to reconsider. He told you he'd throw it all away for you. You told him he was being stupid, and that he would never throw it all away, and if he did, he'd miss it too much. He'd regret it. Sure, the words sounded pretty, but he would never be able to walk away. Not fully. Nor would you ever want him to.

You told him that he was too talented and too good to walk away. He needed to stick with the band. So he did. And he hated it for a while. He wrote songs about how much he hated it, but none of those ever made the albums.

Well, one did.

It was embellished, sure, but you knew which lines were about you. And you hoped against hope that no matter how much he wanted to, that he wasn't watching you from afar. You knew his heart couldn't take that strain. He'd already been through so much. He needed to move on and live for himself now.

You found yourself in the tree one night, wishing he would be okay. You never wished for yourself anymore, but any wish you could make for him, he had it. Success, stability, love, you wanted it all for him. You could make do on your own.

So you did. It killed you when his name came up on your socials, seeing the articles about the band, and about him. You missed him more than anything. But you forced yourself to continue on with your life. The ADHD medication made it easier to function, so when you decided to go to university, you managed it a lot easier than you thought you would.

There were still nights that you wished he was there to read the questions to you. Or nights that you broke down in tears because the pressure was too much. Every time you reached the end of that rope, you remembered your promise to him, and you stepped away from the medicine cabinet.

Noah came to town once. His long hair had been cropped short, and his once spindly build had filled out. You thought about going to the show, but you couldn't bring yourself to go. Your mom even asked if you should go together, but you told her that if you did you'd only have to start the healing process over again. She was understanding, but you knew she wanted to go. She missed him too, after all.

More time passed, whizzing by in a blur of study, work, and long nights. Your mom watched your heart heal and break again every time his name was mentioned on the radio or in a news article.

One night, she sat you down on the couch like she had that night she gave you the "talk". Her skin had begun to sag, and her hair was greying, but you still saw the same look in her eye. That knowing look, the one that knew all your secrets.

'Y/N, honey, you've got to do something. You're not getting over him,' she told you. 'It's been almost two years.'

'I know,' you told her pathetically, curling into her side like a child. She rubbed your arm, comforting you.

'I have an idea that I wanted to run by you,' she said, her tone soft and warm. 'I'm almost ready to retire, and I think I want to retire somewhere sunny. I like the rain, but I'm ready for something new...'

You looked at her, an eyebrow cocked as you caught that mischeivous smirk on her lips.

'Mom...' you said slowly.

'I found a nice house, and with what this place is worth, we could easily afford it if we sell. You're almost finished with school, and there's plenty of job options for you-'

'And you want to move to LA?' you asked her incredulously, sitting up and searching her face for a hint of a joke. You found none. She was completely serious. 'Mom, this isn't some small move down the street, you're talking about moving across the country.'

She nodded, laughing at you. 'I know, sweetheart. But I mean it. I want something new, I've lived in this house for too long. I know it's your home, but once upon a time, it was mine and your father's. We bought it shortly after we got married, and there are days that I still expect to see him sitting on the couch when I get home from work. I still feel like he's here, even though he's been gone for so long. I need to move on from him, and I don't think I can do that here.'

You chewed your lip, looking at your hands. Sometimes it was easy to forget that your mom was a person too. She had her own life, her own story, her own feelings. It had been a long time since your dad left, and it was easy enough to forget that your mom had spent nearly twenty years with him. He was her Noah. Sure, in the end, he turned out to be an uncaring ass, but there had to be something there that she'd loved in the start, and now she couldn't let go of it. Just like you couldn't let go of Noah.

'Okay,' you told her. 'Show me this house?'

She did. She showed you the house, and it was perfect. A quaint little three bedroom townhouse in a quiet community, a thirty minute drive from the city. You fell in love with it the minute you saw it.

Things moved quickly after that night. Your mom put the house on the market, and when you weren't working or studying, you were packing. You found so many memories as you boxed up everything you owned. It didn't take long for the house to sell. It wasn't until the sold sign adorned your front yard that it finally sank in.

You were saying goodbye to your childhood.

The place looked strange without all your things in it. You remembered all of the nights you spent with Noah in your room, whispering about stupid things to make each other laugh. You remembered the sound of his guitar drifting from the room that was once his, even though he almost never slept in there. You had to patch the hole in the wall from when you had tried to slide down the hall in your socks and you slipped, coming crashing down through the plaster.

You remembered sitting around the dinner table, telling your dad about the picture you had drawn at school that day. Or showing off how much better your grades had gotten since Noah started to help you with your homework.

Most painful of all, you had to say goodbye to the tree.

For old times sake, you hauled yourself up into its branches, searching for the carving of your names on the trunk. You had labelled your branches, but after the night in the hotel, Noah joined your names in a heart on the trunk where the two branches met.

For the last time, you made a wish. You weren't sure you believed in it anymore, but that childish wonder in your heart refused to let go of the possibility. You whispered your wish, letting it go with the wind that rustled the leaves.

And then the frenzy began. The movers took all the boxes, packing them into a huge truck with all your furniture, and you got in the car. You told your mom to fly ahead, not wanting her to drive across the country. She was too easily worn out for such an adventure, and there was too much to do, you needed her to save her energy for unpacking and setting up.

So you drove across the country alone, just you and your mom's car. You sold the beater you had bought with your money from the record store. It wasn't going to make the trip, and you could find something better when you had a new job.

You stopped at motels, sleeping more fitfully the closer you got to LA. Your mind spun with possibilities. What would you do? Would you call him? Text him? Would you even reach out?

What if he had a new girlfriend? What if he hated you for ending things? What if he wasn't your Noah anymore?

Each night you tossed and turned, and each day you tried desperately to drown out the noise in your mind with music and podcasts. Finally, after nearly a week of non-stop driving and gas station sandwiches, you reached the exit for Los Angeles. Your new home.

You followed the GPS to your new house, seeing your mom outside with the moving truck. She was helping to take boxes into the house, even though the movers brought the couch in first for her to sit down. She insisted on helping, but that was what your mom was like.

You parked on the street, getting out of the car and stretching your weary legs. Who would have thought sitting still for so long would be so exhausting. The sun had started to dip in the sky, bathing the street in a warm golden glow. You took in your new surroundings for a moment, noting the difference in the smell of the air, the warm breeze, and the lack of trees. There were only a few trees in the street, most of them small. One house had a large tree in the front yard, and it reminded you of the wishing tree. Smiling to yourself, you were glad something felt like home.

Your mom had told the movers to put your bed in first, which you were thankful for. You made your way to your new room, stretching out on the unmade mattress and letting your spine decompress for a little while.

It took a couple of weeks to set up the house how you wanted it, and it took a few more weeks to find a job, but soon enough, you were an official LA working girl. You had a desk job, you paid stupid amounts of money to park fifteen minutes away from your office, and you thrived on coffee, but you were doing it. You were living.

You still hadn't called him. You wanted to, but fear got the better of you every time you typed in his number. Your thumb would hover over the green button for stupid amounts of time, and then you would lock your phone and put it down.

You never thought it would go the way it did.

You came home from work one cloudy afternoon, climbing out of your mom's car and heading to the mailbox. A cool breeze nipped at your arms while you sifted through the mail. While you sorted the bills from the junk, a large black pickup pulled into the street. It was the first time you had seen it move since you moved in. For the last month it had been stationary on a driveway a few doors down.

It crawled past your house, slowing down as it passed by. For a moment, you tensed, ready to run or fight, whatever you needed to do, but then it moved on. It rolled into the driveway you had become accustomed to seeing it at, the house with the large tree in the front yard.

The loud rumble of the engine ceased, and as you were about to turn and head inside, a voice called out to you.

'Y/N!?' the deep voice bellowed, echoing down the street.

You froze.

His footsteps approached, his sneakers pouding against the asphalt as he crossed the street and stepped closer.

'Y/N...' he breathed, stopping a few feet away from you.

You looked up at him with your heart in your throat. His hair was still short, but it had grown out since you last saw him. A hint of stubble graced his chin and his lip, making him look so much more grown up than the weedy little teenager you remembered from prom. And his muscles...

He truly was a man now.

'Noah,' you whispered, your voice gone as you stared at him in disbelief.

He seemed to be having the same problem, stammering as he inched closer to you. 'You're... you're here?' he asked, his tone bewildered, asking the how and why without the need to say them.

'Mom retired, she wanted to get away from the memories of dad,' you told him with a shrug. You could barely bring yourself to meet his eye. Your throat tightened as you got a glimpse of the warm brown that you had missed so much. 'She missed you too, I think that's why she came here.'

'I miss her too,' he said sadly, 'she was the only parent I really had.'

Bit by bit, he stepped closer, closing the distance between you.

'I'm sure she'd love to see you,' you offered quietly, 'if you're not busy?'

'I don't think I'm busy,' he told you, smirking. Your stomach backflipped, and your fingers itched to know his skin again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You knew you needed to rip the band-aid off and just say it.

As you finally blurted out the words, his voice melded with yours.

'I missed you,' you both said.

Pausing, you looked at each other. You finally met his eyes. In that warm gaze, you saw all the love you had seen when you were young. All the longing that you felt was mirrored in him. His cheeks flushed, and you became aware of the heat in your own face as the pair of you laughed.

'I'm sorry,' you told him, taking a step closer to him. He was within reach now, you could have easily brushed his hair from his eyes, or taken his hand.

'For what?' he asked, closing the distance further.

'For ending things. I thought it hurt to miss you when I had you, and then I didn't anymore... I've never felt so alone... I should have just waited-'

'No, Y/N, you did what you needed to. And it would have only gotten worse from there anyway. We didn't get a break for years. With or without you, I never would have seen you.'

He lifted his hand to rest on the bare skin of your arm, admiring the tattoo that covered the scars on your bicep. Your body tingled under his touch, your resolve weakening.

'I'm glad to see that chapter is closed,' he said softly. 'It is, right?'

'Yeah,' you assured him. 'I got close a few times, but I remembered what I promised you and I just couldn't.'

'Good,' he breathed.

You were so close now, his head tilted down to look at you, and you could almost feel his breath on your skin. A cool breeze blew over you, making you shiver. The sound of thunder rolled across the sky, and you couldn't help but laugh as a heavy raindrop smacked on his head, making him flinch.

'Why is it that every time we find each other, it rains?' you mused, grinning up at him.

'Or there's sprinklers?' He added with a smirk.

As the rain fell in slow, fat drops dotting the sidewalk, you felt your heart twist. His hand moved, raising to your cheek. Your eyes welled up, too many emotions filling you.

'I never stopped loving you,' he told you. 'I missed you, and I thought about you every single day.'

'So did I,' you admitted. 'I couldn't stop.'

'And now, here you are...' he said.

'Here we are.'

His lips finally touched yours, and thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened, the rain falling faster, masking the tears on your cheeks as you melted into him. In a matter of moments you were drenched, but you didn't care.

'Never let me go again,' he begged you between heated kisses.

'Never.'

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you. Your hearts pounded against each other's as your chests pressed together. There wasn't enough of him, you needed everything he could give you. You wanted to wrap yourself in him and never let go.

When the thunder seemed to be overhead, he released you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front doorstep of your house. His beautiful smile set something in you alight, a fire you thought you had lost a long time ago.

He rang the doorbell, holding you close to his side, his fingers laced tight in yours. After a moment, your mom appeared at the door with a broad grin and the two towels in her hands.

'It's about time,' she said, handing the large fluffy towels over to you, ensuring you each had the towel with your own name embroidered on it.

'You were watching out the window, weren't you?' you asked her with a laugh.

'You were taking forever to get the mail, I was curious,' she told you innocently, 'but Noah? It is so good to see you, honey.'

She opened her arms to him, asking him for a hug. Noah hesitated for a moment, looking down at his sopping clothes.

'Honey, it's water, get over here,' your mom demanded, pulling him into a tight hug. Noah grinned, revelling in her hug. He was home. You could see it on his face, tears pricking at his eyes as he squeezed her tight. He was finally home.

Noah stayed the night with you, having missed your mom's home-cooked meals and sharing a bed with you. He texted his housemates, telling them that he would be with you. Nick was excited to hear that you had moved out to LA, and you had to promise that the three of you would hang out together soon, but for the moment, all you wanted was Noah.

You spent the night tangled up in him, your legs entwined while he cradled you close to his chest. Every now and then he would kiss you wherever he could reach, often on the forehead or on your lips.

You giggled together in the dark, listening to the storm outside and reminiscing on all the nights you'd spent huddled under the covers back in Richmond.

'I love you,' he whispered to you as you both drifted closer to sleep.

'I love you too,' you told him, brushing your fingers across his cheek and smiling tiredly.

In the morning, your mom handed him a key as you sat down at the table with your coffee. She told him that he always had a home with the two of you. He tried to hide it, but you saw him getting misty eyed as he hugged your mom.

You had to leave for work, but Noah was free to sit and catch up with your mom. You left them together, smiling at the scene as you said your goodbyes.

Noah rushed after you, chasing you to the car with a smitten grin.

'Hey,' he called out, holding the car door open, 'you forgot something.'

'Oh?' you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned into the car and kissed you, not caring that some of your lipstick was on his face now.

'I love you,' he said with a smile, 'okay, now you can go.'

This became a routine. As long as he was in town, the two of you shared a bed. Sometimes you slept in his, but most of the time you slept in yours. He would kiss you goodbye every morning as you left for work, and if he wasn't in town he would send you some kind of message.

The distance became bearable now that he would always come home. You missed him while he was on tour, but at least he would end up back with you at the end of it all instead of on the other side of the country.

It took some getting used to, but you adjusted.

Months passed, and there came a day when you were both free. He was excited, wanting to take you out somewhere, just the two of you. You agreed, seeing him so happy there was no way you could tell him no.

In his black pickup, you drove to the outskirts of town. He wouldn't tell you where you were going. You let him lead the way, trusting him.

He pulled up and parked the car, finally letting you see where you were. He'd taken you to a forest trail. For a minute, you didn't understand, but you let him guide you. He lead you down the trail and to a little clearing where you saw it.

A tree, just like the wishing tree back home.

You couldn't hide the smile on your face. He raced with you to the tree, both of you dragging yourself up through the unfamiliar limbs and branches. Noah had to help you a few times, pulling you up to a higher branch that you could sit on together.

And as you sat, you found yourselves grinning like little kids.

'I figured a little bit of home was a good thing,' he told you, taking your hand. 'But my home is wherever you are.'

'Noah,' you giggled, leaning into him and shoving him gently with your shoulder.

'I'm serious!' he told you, his eyes crinkling with his laughter. You loved the sound, never tiring of his voice. He could read a dictionary out loud and you would listen to him happily.

'How did you even find this?' you asked him, letting him hold you steady on the branch.

'I used to go hiking during quarantine. It was all I was allowed to do, and it got me out of the house for a while.'

You nodded in understanding. Those years had been insane.

'But, there's a reason I wanted to bring you here,' he said nervously. You shifted, turning to face him and swinging your leg over the branch to straddle it. Noah mimicked your movements, your knees touching each other's as he took your hands in the space between you.

You searched his face, seeing a hint of fear in his eyes. Your throat wanted to close at the sight, but you forced yourself to breath through it, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

'I know it hasn't been long since we found each other again, but I don't ever want to lose you again,' he said, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. 'I wish I had told you earlier than I did, I wish we could have spent more time like this. I loved you before I knew what it meant to love someone. You helped me when no one would, and you never wanted anything from me but a friend. I don't know where I'd be without you, but I wouldn't be here.'

As he spoke, your eyes began to water. Your fingers tangled tighter into his, your heart twisting in your chest.

'I don't want us to ever go through what we went through ever again. I want to always be with you, to look after you. I want to kiss you good morning every day, and I want to be the last thing you see when you go to sleep. I want to bring you coffee, and read your books to you, and run through sprinklers with you. My world starts and ends with you, and I want to be there while you build your world into whatever you want it to be. And I hope that whatever that is, it includes me...'

He released your hand, sliding his fingers into his pocket and retrieving something. A deep red velvet box. He opened it and turned it to you, holding it carefully in the palm of his hand.

'Y/N, I love you, more than anything. I wanted to do this in our tree, but this is the closest I could get us,' he chuckled, smiling nervously and looking at the box in his hand. The ring glittered under the light spilling through the canopy of leaves above you. 'Marry me? Please?'

You couldn't find words. Your body was a cacophony of emotion, tears spilling down your cheeks while your heart pounded in your chest.

'Noah,' you whispered, testing your voice. You could see how nervous he was, and you wanted to put him out of his misery. You nodded, smiling back at him. 'Absolutely. I will absolutely marry you.'

He couldn't get the ring on your finger fast enough. He couldn't kiss you hard enough, or hold you close enough. The pair of you were an emotional wreck, smiling and laughing while tears spilled down both of your cheeks.

Before you left the tree, Noah carved your names into the branch, scrawling a date under it. He helped you get down, and he caught you as you lowered yourself from the last branch, spinning you in a circle and kissing you fiercely.

'I love you,' he said, 'and I'm gonna say it until you hate it.'

'I could never hate it,' you told him, your arms tight around his neck.

When you got home, your mom was thrilled. She couldn't be more excited, demanding to see the ring and telling Noah it was about time. She immediately launched into wedding planning, promising to finance whatever you needed. She was overjoyed to have Noah be a part of the family on paper.

She helped you over the next few months while you picked dates and guests and everything there is to do with a wedding. You debated on inviting your father, but decided against it. He had never been warm to Noah, he didn't need to be a part of this celebration.

Noah had to travel a little bit while all this was happening, but it gave you plenty of chances to find a dress. And he would call every night wanting to know what you and your mom had found or planned.

You weren't sure who was more excited, you or Noah.

And as the days passed, the day finally came.

You walked down the aisle with your mom, surrounded by friends and family, but the only person who mattered to you waited at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile on his face and a glimmer in his warm brown eyes.

He took your hand and held it tight, silently swearing to never let it go. You swore the same. It had always been the two of you (and your mom) against the world, but now you got to declare it in front of everyone.

What you weren't prepared for were Noah's vows.

'Y/N,' he began, 'our history has been a long road of ups and downs. We've known each other longer than I've known anyone else. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take on the world with. You have always been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. You came into my life when I needed someone like you, and I know I was mean to you, but I was embarrassed.

'I was embarrassed because I had seen you in that tree making wishes. I wondered if maybe it was magic, because it always seemed to work for you. I never told you what I wished for that day, but I think by now you've earned the right to know.' He paused, squeezing your fingers and lifting them to his lips, his eyes glistening with tears as he cleared his throat. 'I wished for someone to love me. And not a minute later, there you were, wanting to wish for a pass on your science test. But you offered to wish for something for me, caring about me from the minute we met. I got my wish.'

'But, as I got older, I learned something. The tree wasn't where the magic came from,' he said, smiling at you, losing himself in your gaze. 'The magic was you. You granted every single wish, one way or another. You pushed me to be better, to succeed. You gave me everything you could. You protected me when I couldn't protect myself, you gave me a home when I had nothing, and you loved me when I couldn't love myself. So here I am, vowing to you, that I will always, always, protect you. I will love you when you can't, and I will give you everything I can, and I will always be your home. I vow to keep your magic alive, and to grant every wish for you that I possibly can, because you gave me all of mine.'

You knew he was good with words, but he had you there. By the end of his speech, you were a mess of tears, your own vows forgotten. You wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him and never let him go.

When you were finally pronounced man and wife, you met Noah with the deepest kiss you could, pressing your body into his and wanting to hold your breath forever so you could stay locked in his lips.

Your guests cheered and wolf-whistled, and Noah dipped you, giving them a show. When the need for air overcame you, you grinned up at him, hanging on to him tightly.

'I've got you,' he assured you.

'And I've got you,' you smiled back up at him.

He spun you back onto your feet, holding you to him as you left the ceremony together. You had to go and take pictures, but you really just wanted a moment alone together.

You lead Noah to the room where you had been getting ready before the ceremony started, closing the door.

'Are you okay?' he asked you, taking your hand. You nodded, thumbing over the band that adorned his left hand now.

'Yeah,' you told him, swallowing hard. 'You just blindsided me a little.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Don't be. Noah, I am so sorry for what you went through, but also I am so thankful that out of all the places it could have lead you, it lead you to me. And I am so thankful that I get to be the one to love you.'

'So am I,' he told you, stepping closer until your chests pressed together. 'I meant it, you're everything to me.'

'And you're everything to me.'

The reception was filled with celebration, jokes, cheering, speeches, and some very unfortunate dancing. And naturally, at the end of the night, LA was subjected to a massive thunderstorm. Your guests hid inside, but you and Noah ran out into the rain, knowing you couldn't break tradition now. The pictures ended up immortalised in your photo album, displayed on the mantle in the house the two of you bought shortly after your honeymoon.

You got lucky, you managed to find a house just a few blocks from your mom. The house had a big yard, but it was missing something...

Noah came home from a tour with the answer a few months after you had settled in.

'I don't know if this is legal, and I have no idea how to do it, but we're gonna try,' he told you, opening a secure compartment in his suitcase and presenting you with a box.

It was an old amazon prime box, about as big as a shoebox, but as thick as a matchbox. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow.

'Just open it,' he told you, rolling his eyes.

So you did.

A bundle of branches sat in the box, wrapped in wet paper towel.

'You went to Richmond?' you asked. He nodded.

'I did, and I brought some of the wishing tree home. If we do it right, we can have our own wishing tree, right here in our yard. It will take years to grow, but I can't see a reason not to.'

You smiled, shaking your head and placing the branches on the table.

'I love you,' you told him, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

'I love you more.'

Together, you propagated the branches, and you successfully planted a tree. And over the years, as that tree grew, the two of you grew. Your love grew, your family grew, your happiness grew. And one day, you and Noah will get to tell your daughter all about the wishing tree, and take her back to your wishing tree.

But for now, you and Noah get to watch her, seeing the magic you made together grow.

THE END.

[waywardcrow]

Christmas blues.

Summary: Someone hurt his fairy and Bucky will do everything to fix it and give you the Christmas you deserve.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader.

WC: Almost 2K.

TW: Overprotective Bucky, sad reader because of an abusive ex, Christmas blues, talk about revenge and torture but just mentioned, crying, talk about cheating from reader’s ex and ex best friend, pinning dumbasses, ugly Christmas sweaters and Bucky wearing reindeer ears, kind of drunk writer (aka me), let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Take my hand (wreck my plans) series.

Pictures from pinterest, graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Something had happened, Bucky knew it.

You were different after coming home from visiting your parents. They were going on a cruise ship for Christmas so you’ll be spending it at the compound with everybody for the first time.

He could thought it was the perspective of not spending the holidays with your blood family but you were so excited before you left to have Thanksgiving with them, it didn’t make sense.

Every time someone tried to engage you in decorating the tree or bake cookies for the kids, you smiled politely and declined, leaving everyone worried.

“What’s up with fairy?” Sam asked when he arrived with Sarah and his nephews; they agreed to spend the holidays there so nobody feel left out.

“We don’t know” Natasha replied watching you leave after they failed once again, this time you didn’t want to go ice skating.

“You don’t know?” Sam raised a brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a silly smile “I didn’t thought you were familiar with the concept.”

Bucky left them bickering to go find you and he did, your gaze was set in the sunset, not paying much attention to the cold in the air that surrounded you in the balcony.

“Hi sweetheart” you barely reacted, more used than him to Bucky being charming with you.

“What are you doing here? You could catch a cold” Bucky saw you take in the thin layered Henley he was wearing, practically nothing compared to your coat.

“I don’t get sick, honey” he reminded you, making your skin heat despite the winter, feeling like a dumbass. What a scientist you were “I appreciate the concern, though.”

You nodded.

“Are you alright?”

“I should be the one asking that” he said, bumping you gently with his shoulder, Bucky was too delicate with you still but he made every day an effort to be more open, especially with you. He watched your lips become a firm line and his heart started to beat faster in his ribcage. Something had happened, he was sure “I’m here if you want to talk fairy, we all want you to be ok.”

That broke you.

A tear escaped your control and Bucky’s heart sink down, he couldn’t help it when he hugged you making you hid your face in his chest, making you wrap your arms around his waist.

He let you cry; rubbing circles in your back and when you calmed down, Bucky took you to your apartment to make you hot chocolate.

When it was ready Bucky sat next to you in your colorful coach, watching you took a sip while making a mental list of all the awful ways he will torture who hurt you.

“I ran into my ex while being at home” you said without looking at him, making Bucky’s whole body tense. He only heard a few things about him from Tony and Pepper but none were good “he is engaged now, to my ex best friend.”

Oh Bucky would rip his arms away from his body.

“Did he… what did he said to you?” he got closer to his fairy; it should have been very bad to have you crying like that.

Your lower lip trembled so did the mug in your hands so Bucky put his right one on top of yours.

“He said I was invited to the wedding, that Lara and him were grateful I brought them together like they didn’t cheat on me for a year” your voice cracked and more years followed.

That bastard, hot anger cursed through Bucky’s body, he will make them suffer.

“And then Louis made fun of me for buying too much in the Christmas market, he said he was sorry I don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with, like an adult so I have to overcompensate being childish.”

The entire time your eyes were focused in your hands, so embarrassed to be this honest with him when it was your idiotic ex who should be very concerned about what was coming to him, he will recruit Nat and Yelena and Tony to make sure he will pay for every one your tears.

“He is right” you said wiping your tears with your sleeve “I’m childish and dumb and…”

“Hey, hey” Bucky stopped your self-destructive train taking both of your hands in his “none of that is true, fairy” he reassured you making you look at him “he is an asshole, an abuser” Bucky spited that word out, thinking about someone like you having to live with people like that jerk made him want to punch him until his metal arm got tired “he is wrong, you are not what he says.”

“Thanks Bucky but…”

“Ah ah, I’m not letting you be mean with yourself, you’ll do the same for me” it was true, you were so gentle with him and always help him to be gentle with himself too “you deserve the whole universe, honey” Bucky cupped your face in his hands and your breath caught in your throat.

His ocean blue eyes were so kind, so full of trust that it was impossible to not believe his words.

God, he wanted to kiss you so bad but it wasn’t the time so he left a kiss in your forehead “You are not alone, you are so loved by everyone that meets you and it kills me that you have to suffer all that shit, I’m so sorry fairy.”

You hugged him and stay there for a while, feeling the pain in your heart becoming easier.

The next day  Bucky was knocking in your door before breakfast.

You were feeling bad for telling him all that, for letting him see that part of yourself that wasn’t bright, he had enough pain in his life and still he took yours and made it less heavy.

“Bucky? What are you doing here?” he looked so handsome even wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen “what are you wearing?” you whispered, not so sure if you were still sleeping, he was wearing reindeer ears too.

Did Tony and Bruce mess with the time lines again?

“We are going shopping, fairy” he handed you a matching sweater that looked your size “get ready, we leave in ten minutes to get waffles” and with that he disappeared in the hallway.

Confused you did what he said, maybe he needed help with his shopping and it was the least you could do after oversharing the previous night with him.

You met him in the elevators with your ugly sweater on and he smirked.

“You look good, fairy” bashful, you gave him a tiny smile and he felt it like a victory.

And the madness began.

True to his word, he took you for the best waffles you ever eat and then to the Christmas market in Brooklyn, still wearing his silly outfit, parting the crowded area like if he did that every random Sunday, oblivious to the chatter around you both and the not so discreet pictures some took of him. His whole attention was on you.

Bucky could recognize when you liked something, Louis words were still echoing in your mind but he made you feel so safe with him that remembering all your work with your therapist was easier and if you doubted before buying something, he would buy it for you.

You wouldn’t let Louis and Lara take anything more from you and he would help you with that.

“What do you think of this one? It seems perfect for Sam” he told you showing you a funny looking owl with a Santa hat, making you giggle.

“Put it some goggles on and then it will be perfect” you said without thinking, feeling all the cold leave your body when he throw his head back and laughed “oh no, forget I said that, poor Sam.”

“I’m never forgetting it doll, it’s exactly what I’m going to give him” he paid for the owl and gave the old lady in the vendor cart a smile that probably extended her life a decade.

Three hours later, lots of pretzels and hot chocolate you both were taking your car to go back home.

“Thank you for today” you said with a quiet voice when you parked outside the apartments “I know yesterday I was a lot, this made me feel better.”

“You’re never a lot, fairy, you are perfect” there was something else behind his words but before you could ask, Sam shout startled you.

“Hey, lovebirds, Sarah and Clint made lunch” he was wearing only shorts and a t-shirt which was insane but the basketball equipment explained a little, same as the presence of Thor, Cass, AJ and Yelena who looked very proud of herself.

“Let’s go” you said and follow the others, not noticing Bucky’s disappointment matched yours.

Christmas Eve was so much better than you expected, Natasha and Yelena didn’t leave you alone for a second, Wanda helped you wrap your presents, Tony, Morgan and Pepper would hug you randomly through the day and kiss your cheek, the rest of the team did things like that and you felt so loved.

Bucky made sure of it.

He didn’t tell you Louis and Lara were being taken care of, he probably never will, instead he choose to spend the afternoon making letters to Santa with the kids, having the perfect view of you from the living room while laughing at Morgan’s antics who tried to convince AJ and Cass that Happy was Santa. Nate was buying it by then and it was adorable, the chaos also reminded him of his sisters.

“Who wants dessert before dinner?” Yelena asked from the kitchen, the young widow didn’t miss the chance to steal sweets while you and the others cooked and apparently she wanted the kids to do the same.

There was a loud chorus of enthusiastic answers that made him wince even if the disapproval of the parents in the room made him smile. After a short but intense discussion, Sam and you convinced the others to let it happen, it was Christmas after all.

“Just one cookie, ok? We have to wait for dinner” Sam said holding the tray for them and the little munchkins yell, sugar high already “they are not for you, terminator.”

Sam tried to take them from him but you took the tray from your friend.

“Don’t listen to him, take as many as you want” you said, making a silly face at Sam who responded with a similar one.

“Thanks, fairy” Bucky took one of your cookies and barely noticed Sam going towards the Christmas tree “they smell so good.”

If that didn’t make your skin feel on fire, Morgan’s words did.

“Auntie fairy, you are under the mistletoe with Mr. Barnes” a giggle escaped the little girl and then the others kids who laughed at your reaction. The adults in the kitchen stayed in silence, despite Natasha’s “kiss her, dumbass” comment and Bucky… Bucky was looking at you like you were the only one he could see.

Biting your lip, you doubted for a heartbeat before standing in your tiptoes and giving him a kiss, short and sweet, just like you.

And then, Tony let out a wolf whistle, Yelena an exasperated sigh and you could hear Sam in the back asking who dressed an owl like him and put it in top of the tree but your focus was mostly in the handsome man in front of you who took you by the waist and kissed you again.

Merry Christmas lovelies! Hope you like this one, please tell me what you think, if you want to see more about Bucky and fairy, etc.

Love, Lily.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a warriors love

pairing: neteyam x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 1.7K

warnings: shouting, mentions of cuts and blood. took inspiration from the recomms kidnapping the sullys in the forest.

summary: you have an argument with neteyam out of fear

A/N: lowercase on purpose, sorry if that bothers you. this was something i just word vomited in my doc. Inspired from a prompt i found off pintrest, “you can’t protect everyone” “i have to try”

does the end kinda suck... maybe but i wanted something short and kinda left off for imagination.

been in the drafts since march 12

masterlist

the quiet was eerie. everything felt too still as if time froze and you were the only one to notice the change in your environment. it was like you just lost the ability to hear anything besides your own body.

everything was so loud just moments ago. shouting of commands, the breathing in your twitching ears, the sudden onslaught of bullets and arrows raining hell upon your captive form along with the three sully children and their human companion.

your heart was pounding in your ears but your instincts kicked into gear and you kicked and bit the sky demon and ran deep into the forest with the others, hands tied in front of you and legs pushing you further into the trees.

it all stopped when you toppled into another body, one you weren’t sure of being friend or foe so you struggled in their strong grip. their arms caging you against their chest and you could feel the tears stinging against your eyes and the choked feeling growing in your throat, your screams showing your growing fear. only when you felt the barest touch along your cheek and the gentle whispers of comforting words did you stop your fighting. the tears only flowed faster.

“mawey yawne. mawey.” (calm beloved. calm)

neteyam’s soothing voice sang within your ears and deep within your brain. a hand petting your braids atop your head, even digging his fingers to feel your scalp. his other hand pressed to your back, making your chest flush with his, encasing the both of you in a reality check.

you were alive. you escaped. he saved you. his family was safe.

and all that led to now. you sitting on the floor of your small mauri, eyes focused on nothing before you with your body hunched over your crossed lap. hands mindlessly picking at skin and twisting or bending fingers, or a knee bouncing to an unknown sound only you can locate. even a small rocking motion came upon your body, it was like you were in a fixed trance.

his arms being wrapped tight around your shoulders stopped all functions. slowly you realized what was happening and sluggishly you moved your arms securely along his waist, a firm tug to pull him impossibly closer. your faces tucked into the crooks of each other's necks, deeply inhaling the other scents, feeling the movement of your chest as you breathed in and out.

“neteyam…” your lips brushed his skin, and you gave a tremble to his name. he shushed you, his nose rubbing against your pulse point. his lashes a light tickle on your neck just below your jaw. “focus on your breathing first. your heart putters like that of a hummingbird's wings.”

neteyam pulled away and you started to panic, but all he did was place a hand against your heart and he tugged one of yours to do the same, “follow my heart. listen to my breathing. calm and steady.” you closed your eyes to just focus on the thump thump thump of neteyam’s steady heart.

when you felt relatively calmer, less jumpy you peeled your closed eyes open and stared directly into neteyam’s clouded golden orbs. they looked to be shadowed by different emotions, only one you can see at the top of his emotional surface. anger.

a hand limply touched his cheek, just a ghostly sweep of your fingertips. and before you could move further or speak, fast-paced steps echoed against the cave walls and entered your mauri. kiri walked forward with a woven basket of herbs and salves but stopped short when she looked up from the floor to the two of you still seated in front of each other, neither moving away only straying your eyes to her.

“oh, uh… sa’nu and sempu (mom and dad) sent me to fix any wounds. grandmother is busy with others.” she shuffled on her feet, noting the heavy air.

neteyam stood up and walked over to his sister, taking the basket into his hands, “i shall mend her wounds. stay with tuk and lo’ak, make sure they are okay.” he gave a squeeze to her right bicep and she nodded to the both of you before walking away.

neteyam moved quietly as he worked preparing the paste that would keep any cuts from getting infected and set aside the herbs for wrapping or for swelling bruises. you just watched as he kept his head and eyes down focused, mouth pulled into a thin, tight line showing he was keeping words to himself.

“neteyam… please don’t keep thoughts to yourself. tell me what troubles your mind.” a hand resting on his knee.

his movements stilled and you thought he was about to open up, but instead he mumbled lowly, “this might sting,” and he scooped the thick yellow paste onto two fingers and slathered the medicine along a long and red cut to your forearm. you flinched in his hold, eyes shutting tight with your fingers closing into fists and your breath sucked in through your teeth.

you heard the mumbled “sorries” and felt his hold that was firm but his fingers were delicate. he moved from the cut on your bicep to a cut along your collarbone. the sting wasn’t there as he worked so you focused your attention back on him, needing to hear his voice and thoughts.

“‘teyam, please. i-i know what happened was scary, but not talking to me is worrying me more. it was not our intention to get taken hostage by the demons, they caught us off guard as we were exploring, and- and i know we… yes we went to an area that was off limits. but- but everything was cleared and when i started to get worried i told them we needed to leave and that’s when they arrived, and that’s when we had lo’ak call in.”

neteyam just worked, not stopping to look at you or speak with you, his eyes stayed on your damaged skin. it was making you frustrated. you didn’t mind his silence usually, but it was always a welcomed silence when both of you just wanted to soak up the other’s presence, this was an angered silence. he was giving you the silent treatment.

“neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan i do not appreciate this silence. i would rather have you yell at me than ignore me as i am trying to talk to you. i know you have some words dancing on your tongue just waiting to be spewed in my face, well speak them.” you jerked away from his gentle touch and you missed it, but he was hurting your heart.

he stayed on his knees, head bowed as he stared at his hands, palms facing the sky. his braids closed off his face, his emotions that you usually could read like an open book, but now he was a clouded sky that wouldn’t let the sun shine through.

your lips trembled and eyes watered, your arms covering your stomach as a protective blanket from this vulnerability. “when i was being choked by their hand around my throat and my queue being tugged harshly, i thought i was to die in that moment. they held knives at each of us, ready to stab if we were to make any move to freedom. and- and as the night crept upon us as they waited for your sempul (father) so they could kill him along with us, i just thought of you. thought of your smile and your comforting laughter that i have to wrangle from you most of the time because you can be too stubborn for your own good. how i would miss the touch of your fingers on my skin, rubbing circles into my hips or caressing my cheeks as we gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. how there were so many words i have yet-“

“i could have lost you! you could have been killed long before we arrived to help! i would stumble upon your lifeless body! do you not know how that would completely break me apart? i wouldn’t be able to live without you, without your soothing words and quiet company. i- i would want to die right with you, even if it hurt my family…i wouldn’t- your loss would just rip my heart out of my chest and completely tear it to shreds.”

his words shrieked loud like a ikran’s cry within your eardrums. your whole body stopped moving and you stood motionless, the air stolen from your lungs and your heart forgetting its automatic beating. your arms fell from their protective hold on your stomach before your feet carried you back to neteyam, knees crouching to the ground. with a hand, you tucked it under his chin and pushed his head up to make proper eye contact and that’s when your heart completely broke in your chest.

his usual glowing irises were surrounded in a red hue from the running tears that left stains under his eyes and along his cheeks. thumbs jumped into action and swiped away the pain that this situation has caused him, you hated seeing him so stressed and worn out.

“ma ‘teyam… i hadn’t meant to put us- put you in this type of position. i never want to be the cause of pain for you and- and i know this whole problem could have been avoided if- if i was a bit stricter with lo’ak and his impulse decisions. but we must now focus on our present.” you connected your foreheads together, thumbs still running over his cheeks.

neteyam wrapped his hands around your wrist, his nose bumping into yours, “i’m supposed to protect you, protect my family and i have failed my purpose.”

“no neteyam. your sole purpose isn’t to be a protector… well actually kinda is- anyway, what- what i am trying to say is. you cannot save everyone neteyam, sometimes Eywa chooses whose life ends if it keeps the balance.”

“i have to try. i have to try and save everyone, especially my family and you. life would never be the same if any of you were to leave in a tragic way.” you pushed braids behind his ears, “and life would be dull and fruitless without you, neteyam. we must protect each other, that is our purpose.”

...