#and maybe it is where you live but Your Experiences Are Not Universal and by saying ALL SHELTERS ARE LIKE THIS

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 7 - Well This Is Awkward

CW: Angst, mention's of alcohol, mentions of panic attack's, mental health, mentions of injuries, mentions of death.

Did I mention I like medical dramas?

Previous parts - masterlist - next

Your therapist is nice. You’ve been going to her for the past 3 months, you were only supposed to go for a single session. Then the army insisted on more. Johnny was sent home on medical leave a few days after you left. He came to see you and stayed the night. 

The next morning you had to tell him to leave, it just wasn’t the same. 

‘I’ll be staying at the house if you want to visit?’ 

Shit, you forgot about the house. The place you all pitched in to buy, so you all had somewhere to stay when you were on leave. Everyone’s flats are too small to accommodate all 5 of you. Besides, flat hopping everyday across London was expensive. 

‘I’ll talk to John when he’s back.’ All you want back is the deposit. 

“Do you feel guilty?” She asks you. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at her. 

“No.” You say, she hums. You hate it when she does that. You don’t know why it is a particularly tough session. You just want to go home. “They hurt me. I don't feel guilty about that.” 

“You left the unit though.” Bitch. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that.” 

“Okay fine. I feel guilty about leaving Johnny and Kyle.” You snap back. Anything to get her to sign you off so you can go. You look up at the clock, you still have at least 40 minutes left in this season. 

“Have you got your letter from the university yet?” She asks changing the subject. You nod. After a few weeks of crying on the bathroom floor and drowning yourself in bottles of vodka you decided to get your shit together. 

“That’s good, what's the plan going forward?” 

“I’ll be posted on a base somewhere where I can get hands-on experience in trauma care. With studying on the side.” You say without going too much into the complications. 

“So the army is actively helping you, that's good.”  

“Yeah I think they’re willing to do anything so long as I don’t sue them.” You scoff under your breath. She hums.

You don’t know how true that is, maybe it’s just something you tell yourself so you don’t feel so conflicted over how accommodating they’ve been. They’re paying your uni bills and even got you one some army teaching program aimed to fast track you through the ranks. 

“What about Kyle and Johnny? Have you heard from them since you spoke to them last?” Fucking bitch. You sigh, turning away from her. The last time you spoke to them was almost a month ago. They text you from time to time, try to call you. 

You’ve ignored them, so much that you feel like anything you say to them will just be meaningless. 

“Yeah, they’re deployed.” You lie. She smiles. You look back up at the clock. 

30 minutes to go.

______________________

Iraq is hot. That you expected but the hospital’s electricity is sketchy at best. You have to keep the air-con off to make sure the ventilators don’t cut out. The US built this place, you’re only supposed to be here for another week at least before you’ll move again. 

As soon as the electric is fixed it will be handed over to the UN to run, until then it was getting a dry run as a combat hospital. Lots of blown off limbs and bullets to pull out people. Lots of death. 

You told Johnny and Kyle where you were going when you got your placement. You’re trying to patch things up with them after basically leaving them on read for almost 3 months. Your therapist said it would be a good thing to do. 

The sun is setting, you're sitting outside watching as it touches the top of the distant mountains. The place is busy, friendly forces are still pretty much living here. It’s the only safe zone in this part of the desert, why the UN wanted a hospital out here you’ll never know. 

Something about re-urbanisation of previously controlled territories. You don’t care, you're here to pull bullets out of people and save lives. Other than your mentor-Dr. Sands-you’re the only other doctor on the base. Doctor is a loose term, you’re technically still a student, but you ace all your skills labs, and the army is begging for help apparently. 

You let out a breath, finishing the rest of your drink and getting up and pulling your white lab coat on. 

“Well, fancy seeing you ‘ere.” You hear a familiar thick accent behind you. You turn to see Johnny standing behind you. 

What the fuck.

You’re hugging him before you can stop yourself. You see Kyle, John and Simon stood behind him. They’re all geared up, weapons slung over their chest or back. 

You thought you would feel something when you saw them. Maybe you'd want to run, scream, cry, anything. You feel nothing, just numbness.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Oh you know, Shepherd says jump, we say how high.” he says nudging you, it makes you smile and you shake your head. 

“Finally going for the MD?” He asks, pointing at the student doctor tag on your coat. 

“Yeah well, you like putting bullets in people. I like pulling them out.” 

“Oh yeah not even the occasional love tap?” He jokes, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Only the bad guys.” You reply. You look up at Kyle who’s smiling. Then John and Simon. 

“You look good.” John says. 

“Yeah well that’s what 6 months of therapy will do to you.” It’s bitter, harsher than you expected it to be. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him in 6 maybe 7 months. He hasn’t changed a bit. He still smiles at you, his body language open, his hands on his hips. 

Simon stands with his arms crossed, his presence is looming, making hairs stand up on the back of your neck. 

“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle says, you nod at him. 

“Oh when we’re back we should catch a bite to eat.” Johnny says enthusiastically, moving away over to Kyle. 

“You can tell us what to avoid in the mess.” Kyle adds. You smile again. You go to open your mouth but your pager beeps. You look down at it. It’s the doctor. 

“Yeah, when you’re back, come find me.” You say turning into the building. 

“Stay safe!” Johnny calls.

“Yeah you too!” You call back pulling your radio off your hip. When you make it through the door you squeeze your eyes closed for a second and let out a long breath. 

Now you hate this hospital even more. 

______________________

It’s dark out now. You look over at the clock and it's almost midnight. You’re sat at the nurses station listening to them talk about whatever drama is going on in the next base. You still can’t believe you ended up in the same base as 141. 

They’ll be gone soon, even Johnny seemed surprised, maybe he thought you’d be gone by now. Now you have to eat with them at some point. Johnny and Kyle at least.

The doctor left an hour ago to go to another base for a surgery. You’re used to this taking the night shifts. Normally you just sleep and get woken up a few times for the nurses to ask for medication changes. You’ve only ever had one trauma come in at night and the doctor was there to help you with the limited night time staff. 

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, you were restless trying to think about what they were doing here? Who were they after? How long would they be here? At least at the nurses station you can listen to the nurses and let their gossip distract you. 

The red trauma phone rings. For a second you think it’s a joke, it’s the normal phone. Nope, the red light is flashing on it. You stand up picking it up. 

“Trauma.” You say.

“Got one incoming, ETA 15 minutes. GSW to the chest, breathing unconscious. 30 year old male.” You hear an American voice say as you write it down. You don’t have time to worry or be nervous. This is what you live for, you let the adrenaline pump through you. It clears your mind as you take down the information. 

“Copy, what’s the name?” 

“Riley.” Your heart stops.

“Say again?”

“Riley, Simon Riley.”  

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You’re squeezing the phone in your hand, the pen has fallen to the floor. You look over at the nurses already pulling gowns on and getting into position in the resus bay. 

You don’t even register saying copy and putting the phone back. You turn away from the nurses braising yourself on a filing cabernet. 

Simon’s shot. All you can see is his face, his body covered in blood. He’s always so careful, he’s always the one dragging people out the field not getting shot. Something must have gone horribly wrong. 

You weren't there. He’s shot and you weren't there to save him. 

You suck in breaths of air, the adrenaline isn’t helping now. 

“Doctor?” You hear one of the nurses call. You turn to look at them, you have to keep it together. 

“Page the doctor.”

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[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Domestic Chaos | Draco Malfoy ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I guess mention of sexual activity and condoms

Summary: Fluff, Comedy | Draco navigates through muggle life with the love of his life.

Word count: 8966

author's note: I am so sorry that this request took so long. But work has been hell before the holidays. Now that I have some time off I managed to finish it. I hope you like it! @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy

The first week of living together with Draco Malfoy had been… an adjustment, to say the least.

You smiled to yourself as you wandered down the stairs of your new house, recalling the mix of chaos and charm that came in the start of sharing a home with Draco. Moving in together had been a big step, one you hadn’t expected to take so soon. But after months of navigating your relationship between your cozy Muggle world and his pristine magical one following your graduation from Hogwarts, it only made sense to create a space that was truly suited for the both of you.

Granted, the transition had been smoother for you than it had been for him.

Draco, for all his poise and pure-blood grace, had little to no experience with Muggle life. Your enchanted house—a quirky blend of his velvet armchairs and your mismatched cozy furniture—reflected that perfectly. It was a home where magical portraits coexisted with photo frames from your favorite vacations, where your television and laptop shared a shelf with his collection of ancient spell books.

It was perfect. Except for the moments where Draco had done his best to interact with Muggle appliances.

The faint sound of muffled clattering pulled you towards your kitchen, curiosity outweighing your desire to get yourself a hot mug of coffee. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you padded down the hall toward the kitchen. As you stepped through the doorway, you froze, your grogginess instantly replaced by disbelief at the sight before you.

The dishwasher, a seemingly harmless Muggle machine, stood wide open. Inside, dishes were arranged in what could only be described as abstract art. Draco stood in front of it with his wand drawn, muttering incantations under his breath. A suspiciously green, bubbling potion had been poured into the detergent slot, and—Merlin help him—a set of silver goblets that were very much not dishwasher-safe glinted proudly from the bottom rack.

“Draco.” you said carefully, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t flinch, though his wand froze mid-air. “Using this infernal contraption you insisted on bringing into our home.” he replied, his tone clipped.

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. Our home. The words still gave you butterflies.

“This ‘infernal contraption’ is a dishwasher,” you corrected, stepping closer. “It cleans dishes. Without magic. That’s sort of the point.”

Draco huffed, a faint pink tinting his pale cheeks. “Well, it’s doing a poor job of it so far.”

“Probably because you’re trying to curse it into submission.” You peered into the dishwasher, your eyes widening. “Wait. Is that—oh my God, Draco, is that the antique goblet from your mother’s dining set?!”

He glanced at the goblet, then back at you, feigning innocence. “What? It needed cleaning.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s over 200 years old! You can’t just throw it in a dishwasher!”

“Well, I certainly can’t hand wash it,” he said indignantly, crossing his arms. “Do you know how much trouble the preservation charms require? It’s exhausting.”

“Then maybe don’t drink wine out of a priceless artifact?”

“Then maybe don’t serve wine in cheap glass cups,” he shot back, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “It ruins the wine taste…”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, fine. Touché. But seriously, what is this… potion?” You gestured to the green, bubbling mess in the detergent slot.

“It’s a universal cleaning tonic,” he said proudly. “Far superior to whatever chemical nonsense Muggles use.”

“It’s not even liquid! It’s oozing! You can’t put that in a dishwasher!”

Draco frowned, glancing back at the machine as if it had betrayed him. “So what’s the proper way, then?”

You sighed, grabbing the small box of dishwasher tablets from the counter. “Watch and learn, Pure-blood.”

With a sigh you carefully removed the bubbling mess he had poured into the detergent slot. Draco watched with a mix of curiosity and mild indignation as you wiped it clean with a paper towel.

“This,” you said, holding up one of the tablets from the box, “is what you’re supposed to use.”

Draco tilted his head, eyeing the tablet skeptically. “That tiny thing? How could that possibly clean anything?”

“It’s designed for this, Draco. It dissolves in the water and works its magic—well, not literally, but you get the idea.”

You slid the tablet into the designated compartment and snapped the dishwasher closed, pressing the buttons to set the correct cycle. “And this,” you added, pointing to the buttons, “is how you actually start it. No wand required.”

Draco’s expression was unreadable as the machine hummed to life, its rhythmic sounds filling the kitchen. After a moment, he muttered, “It still seems unnecessarily complicated.”

“Complicated? You were about to duel the dishwasher,” you teased, crossing your arms.

Draco smirked, his signature smugness returning. “And I would’ve won.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you leaned against the counter. “You’re hopeless.”

Before you could say more, you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and his breath tickled your neck.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice softer now, “but I’m learning, aren’t I?”

You snorted, tilting your head slightly as you felt his lips brush against the curve of your neck in a featherlight kiss. “Barely,” you teased, though your tone lacked the bite to make it convincing.

Draco chuckled, the vibration of it humming against your back. His kisses trailed lazily along the side of your neck, his hands tightening ever so slightly around your waist. Just as you began to melt into his warmth, a sharp, electronic beep shattered the moment.

Draco froze, his lips pausing mid-kiss. “What in Merlin’s name was that?” he asked, his voice tense and laced with suspicion.

You laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “That’s just the washing machine.” you explained, finding his baffled expression entirely too adorable. “It beeps when it’s done with a cycle.”

Draco frowned, glancing over at the machine as if it were an intruder. “Why does it need to announce its accomplishments? It’s not as though I announce every time I complete a task.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure about that? Because I distinctly remember you declaring victory the last time you hung up a picture frame.”

Draco scowled, though the faint pink creeping back into his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “That frame was enchanted to repel nails. It was a triumph,” he muttered defensively.

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Draco,” you said, still grinning, “the Muggle world is going to kill you at this rate.”

He grumbled, tightening his hold around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. “Life is unnecessarily complicated without magic,” he muttered, his tone dripping with indignation. “Why would anyone willingly choose this… process over a simple charm?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Maybe because some of us didn’t grow up with the luxury of a wand to fix all our problems?”

Draco pulled back slightly to look at you, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “You’re saying you willingly endured this madness? What kind of resilience do Muggles possess that I’ve clearly been deprived of?”

“Patience!”

Draco scoffed, stepping back just enough to look at you. “Patience is for people with time to waste,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

You rolled your eyes, slipping out of his arms and heading toward the counter. “Come on, your Highness,” you said over your shoulder, pulling open the breadbox. “Let’s see if you’re capable of making toast without burning it.”

Draco followed you with a mock-offended expression. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of operating a toaster,” he declared, though his hesitation as he glanced at the machine suggested otherwise.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, smirking as you slid a couple of slices into the slots. “Here, I’ll start it for you. You can handle buttering them when they’re done. Think you’re up for the challenge?”

Draco leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re underestimating me again, love. I’ll butter the toast so flawlessly you’ll weep.”

You snorted, turning to grab plates from the cabinet. “Sure, let’s call that your triumph of the day.”

As the toaster clicked and the smell of warm bread filled the kitchen, Draco busied himself setting the table—his version of setting the table, which involved summoning everything with a flick of his wand and arranging it with the precision of a dinner party.

“You do realize breakfast doesn’t require formal presentation, right?” you teased, sitting down as he placed a perfectly folded napkin by your plate.

Draco smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Just because it’s breakfast doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reached for the now-popped toast, applying butter with such deliberate care you half-expected him to use a ruler for even distribution. Shaking your head with a soft smile, you rose from your seat and quietly grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it with fresh coffee from the pot on the counter.

The warm aroma filled the kitchen as you set the pot down and returned to your chair, savoring the first sip in comfortable silence. Across the table, Draco finished buttering the toast and waved his wand casually, sending the coffee pot floating over to his side. It tilted gracefully, pouring a perfectly measured amount of coffee into his mug before settling back in its spot on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of your cup. “So, pouring coffee is too much effort, but you’ll put on a show buttering toast?”

Draco looked up, his expression far too smug. “Presentation matters, darling. Coffee is utility. Buttering toast is an art.”

You snorted, biting back a laugh as you leaned back in your chair. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and giving you a sly smile, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Debatable,” you shot back, though the way your lips twitched betrayed the truth.

As the two of you ate, the quiet hum of the dishwasher filled the air, mixing with the faint clinking of dishes and the comforting warmth of the morning. You couldn’t help but think that, chaotic as it was, life with Draco had its charm.

Halfway through breakfast, Draco cleared his throat, setting his mug down with a deliberate clink. “By the way,” he said nonchalantly, brushing a nonexistent crumb from his sleeve, “my parents have asked to visit for dinner this evening.”

You froze mid-sip, glancing up at him.“Tonight?” 

This wasn’t the first time Draco had invited his parents over since you’d moved in together, but it never got easier. The Malfoys had made their opinions about his choices abundantly clear. The arguments had been frequent and heated when Draco first announced his decision to move into the Muggle world. Dating mudblood, as Lucius had so delicately put it during one particularly venomous conversation, had been a sore point from the start. The disdain in their voices, though carefully masked in your presence, was never far from the surface. Still, Narcissa had tried to keep things civil, at least outwardly. Her maternal instincts, perhaps, outweighed her prejudices. Lucius, on the other hand, had never fully hidden his disapproval. The sideways glances, the veiled barbs—it all painted a clear picture. They saw your relationship as a deviation, something temporary that would inevitably pass. And yet, they remained fairly cordial in front of you, no doubt for Draco’s sake. Tonight’s visit felt like yet another test, one you were determined to pass—though it always left you walking on eggshells.

Draco nodded, as if this were the most natural announcement in the world. “Yes, tonight. Around seven, I believe.”

You blinked, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “Right,” you murmured, your mind already racing. “I’ll need to go shopping today before the shops close, then.”

Draco frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Shopping? Whatever for?”

“For dinner, Draco,” you replied, standing to gather your plate. “We don’t exactly have a stocked pantry suitable for hosting your parents.”

As you moved toward the sink, he waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just send a house-elf to take care of it.”

You froze, staring at him over your shoulder. “Draco,” you said slowly, turning back toward the table, “We don’t have house-elves.”

He blinked, as though the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “We don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly, placing your hands on your hips. “They don’t exactly come with Muggle homes, you know.”

Draco leaned back in his chair, a look of mild bemusement crossing his face. “Strange. Well, no matter—I’ll ask Father to send a couple over for the day.”

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You’ll what?”

He shrugged, as if this were a completely reasonable solution. “I’ll write him after breakfast. It’s hardly a problem.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again as you tried to formulate a response. Finally, you shook your head, rubbing your temples. “Draco, we are not borrowing house-elves from your dad.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because,” you said, sighing as you sat back down, “this is our home. I’m not dragging house-elves into it every time we have guests over. I’ll just go shopping, make a nice meal, and that’s that.”

Draco looked at you as though you’d just suggested cooking dinner over an open flame. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you replied, sipping your coffee again. “This is how Muggles do things. Welcome to the real world.”

For a moment, Draco looked as though he might argue, but then he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he said, his tone begrudging. “But I’m coming with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “To the grocery store?”

“Yes, to the grocery store,” he said, his expression a mix of determination and distaste. “If I’m going to endure this… experiment, I might as well see how it works.”

Smiling, you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “Alright then. I’ll go get ready.”

When you returned a short while later, Draco’s gaze immediately fell on the several empty shopping bags you were holding. His brows knitted together in confusion, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply followed your every movement with the intensity of someone trying to solve an unspeakable mystery.

You set the bags by the door and reached for the keys to the house, slipping them into your pocket before pulling on your shoes. Draco’s confusion deepened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to leave,” you said, nonchalantly tying your laces.

Draco raised a perfectly arched brow. “And how exactly are we planning to get there? Apparition or Floo Powder?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Neither.”

“Neither?” he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief.

“We’re walking,” you said matter-of-factly, straightening up and grabbing the empty bags.

Draco blinked, his expression torn between incredulity and exasperation. “Walking? Why on earth would we walk when we could be there in seconds?”

“Because,” you explained patiently, “the shop is close by, and it would be weird to just appear in the middle of it. Muggles don’t take kindly to people popping out of thin air near the frozen food aisle.”

Draco stared at you as if you’d just suggested climbing a mountain for fun. “This is madness,” he declared.

You laughed, patting his arm as you opened the door. “Consider it part of the full Muggle experience.”

Still grumbling under his breath about the absurdity of it all, Draco stepped outside with you, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he scanned the street. “Walking,” he muttered again, shaking his head. “What will they think of next?”

You only smirked, knowing the real fun was yet to come. Draco laced his fingers with yours as you stepped out into the crisp winter air, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots. He pulled you closer as you walked, his warm breath visible in the cold. The streets were lined with houses adorned with twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, and the occasional snowman standing proudly in a yard.

“I could’ve taken the car,” you said casually, glancing up at him, “but I don’t think you’re ready to experience traffic yet.”

Draco gave you a pointed look, though his lips twitched with faint amusement. “If it’s anything like the stories you’ve told me, I’d rather not risk my sanity—or my temper.”

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s probably for the best. One honking horn, and you’d be out of there faster than you could say ‘Pure-blood.’”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the bustling scenery around him. The sidewalks were busy with people bundled in coats and scarves, some carrying shopping bags, others chatting cheerfully. There was a warmth to it all—a vibrancy that was so different from the cold, quiet grandeur of the Malfoy Manor.

“For all the stupidity the Muggle world has to offer,” Draco murmured, his voice thoughtful, “I’ll admit… I do enjoy how lively it is.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the rare vulnerability in his tone. “Lively?”

He nodded, his icy eyes catching the glint of the snow-covered streets. “The manor was… beautiful, I suppose. Grand. But it was so isolated. Mostly empty land, save for the occasional visitor or house-elf passing by. There was nothing like this—” he gestured to the people around you, the soft hum of life that filled the air. “—no life, no… warmth.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Well, you’ve got that now,” you said, smiling up at him. “Even if it comes with grocery shopping and dishwashers.”

Draco smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “It’s a compromise I’m willing to make,” he said, his voice teasing but sincere.

As the two of you continued walking, the snowflakes began to fall again, dusting the streets and your hair in a light layer of white. Draco tightened his hold on your hand, the moment between you quiet and peaceful as the world around you bustled with life.

As you approached the grocery store, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it between your fingers before sliding it into the lock on a row of shopping carts. With a satisfying click, the cart popped free, and you grabbed it, turning to Draco with a smile.

He stared at the cart, then at you, his brow furrowing. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

You laughed softly, gesturing to the coin slot on the cart. “It’s how you unlock them. You put in a coin, and when you’re done, you get it back.”

Draco’s confusion deepened as he examined the contraption with a critical eye. “Why would you need to pay for a cart? Isn’t that the store’s responsibility? Do you lose the money if you don’t return it?”

“Yes, you only lose the money if you don’t return it.” you explained, suppressing a giggle at his baffled expression. “It’s just a system to make sure people don’t leave the carts all over the parking lot… or steal them”

He tilted his head, considering this. “So, Muggles have to bribe themselves to do the responsible thing?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug, trying not to laugh at the sheer disdain in his voice.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the cart as if it had personally offended him. “What a pitifully inefficient system,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Why not just enchant the carts to return themselves?”

You snorted, wheeling the cart toward the entrance. “Because not everyone has magic, Draco. This works just fine.”

He fell into step beside you, still looking slightly affronted. “I should write to the Ministry. There has to be some sort of international wizarding intervention for this level of absurdity.”

You smirked, patting his arm as you entered the store. “You do that. In the meantime, try not to hex anything while we shop.”

Draco grumbled something under his breath but followed you inside, his sharp gaze taking in the bright fluorescent lights, the neatly stacked shelves, and the bustling crowd. “This is going to be an experience,” he muttered.

“You have no idea,” you replied with a grin, steering the cart toward the produce section.

You wheeled the cart through the store, stopping in the produce aisle to grab fresh herbs and vegetables for the roast dinner. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Draco wander a few steps away, picking up various food items and squinting at the labels like he was deciphering ancient runes. It was adorable, really, but you couldn’t help but focus on your shopping. As you mentally ran through your list, you zigzagged through aisles, tossing essentials into the cart—seasoning, potatoes, stock, bread. Before you knew it, you were in the snacks aisle, debating between crisps and popcorn.

That’s when you realized it. Draco was gone. You glanced around, craning your neck to see if you could spot his silver-blond hair anywhere in the sea of shoppers. Nothing. You sighed, silently praying he hadn’t decided to duel the automatic doors or try to interrogate the self-checkout machine. Just as you picked up a bag of crisps, you heard his unmistakable voice behind you.

“Look at this!” he said, sounding thoroughly impressed.

You turned around, and there he was—holding a bright yellow plastic broom.

“They have brooms here!” he said, turning it over in his hands as if he’d stumbled upon the latest innovation in flying technology. “Never seen one like this… must be a new model.”

You froze, staring at him, your lips twitching as you struggled to keep it together. “A new model?” you repeated, barely managing to suppress a laugh.

Draco nodded, completely serious. “It’s so lightweight. And this handle… not wood, but some kind of sturdy Muggle material. I’ve no idea where the charms are hidden, though.” He ran his fingers along the bristles, frowning slightly. “Odd design, but maybe it improves aerodynamics?”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, fighting to keep your laughter under control. “Draco… that’s not… it’s not a flying broom.”

He blinked, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion. “What do you mean? It’s a broom. What else could it be used for?”

“It’s for cleaning,” you managed, your voice trembling with suppressed laughter. “Muggles use it to sweep floors.”

Draco stared at the broom, then at you, then back at the broom. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” you said, finally letting out a small giggle. “That’s about as far from a flying broom as you can get.”

Draco’s face twisted into a mixture of horror and disappointment as he looked at the broom again. “They’ve completely ruined it,” he declared, setting it back on the shelf with a level of disdain usually reserved for cursed objects. “What’s the point of a broom that doesn’t fly?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, earning a few amused glances from other shoppers. “Oh, Draco,” you said between giggles, grabbing his arm. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of what we need before you find something else to ‘improve.’”

You couldn’t stop grinning as you watched Draco hover near the cleaning aisle, his gaze fixed on a row of mops. He tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he gingerly poked at the mop’s sponge end.

“What’s this for?” he asked, holding it up like it was a weapon he needed to disarm.

You chuckled, wheeling the cart closer. “That’s a mop. Muggles use it to clean floors—specifically, to scrub them when they’re wet or dirty.”

Draco’s lips parted in disbelief, and he blinked at you as if you’d just told him people used quills to sew fabric. “You’re telling me… they manually drag this thing around on the floor instead of just casting a Scouring Charm?”

“Pretty much,” you replied with a shrug, struggling to keep a straight face.

He shook his head slowly, muttering under his breath, “Primitive. Absolutely primitive.”

After returning the mop to its place like it had personally offended him, he stuck closer to your side for the rest of the trip, steering the shopping cart with surprising enthusiasm. At first, he pushed it tentatively, testing its movement, but before long, he was zipping down the aisles like a child with a new toy.

“Draco,” you called after him, trying not to laugh as he gave the cart a small push and watched it glide forward. “It’s not a racing broom.”

“Of course not,” he said, smirking but not stopping. “It’s much slower.”

Despite his antics, he peppered you with questions as you continued shopping, picking up random items and holding them out for inspection.

“And this?” he asked, holding up a box of instant pudding mix.

“It’s dessert. You mix it with milk, and it thickens into pudding.”

He frowned. “No wand required?”

“No wand required,” you confirmed, tossing the box into the cart.

He sighed dramatically, moving on to the next item. “And this?”

“A tin opener. It opens cans.”

Draco’s expression fell further. “What’s wrong with an Opening Charm?”

“Not everyone has one, Draco,” you said patiently, biting back a laugh as his disappointment deepened.

Item after item, his curiosity turned into sheer disillusionment. “Muggles really have to work this hard for everything, don’t they?” he muttered, picking up a manual whisk and giving it a dubious glance.

You smirked, taking it from him and placing it in the cart. “It’s not all bad. You’re surviving, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he replied, pushing the cart forward with a little more flair than necessary.

By the time you made it to the checkout line, Draco had perfected his ‘long-suffering Pure-blood enduring the trials of the Muggle world’ expression, but you couldn’t help but notice the occasional glint of fascination in his eyes as he took in the bustling store around him. You were focused on unloading the cart, placing items neatly onto the till conveyor belt while Draco hovered a safe distance away from the machine. His cautious glances at the moving belt made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t alive. Out of nowhere, he called your name, and you turned just in time for him to shove a small box into your face.

“What is this then?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

You froze, your eyes widening as you recognized the box of condoms he was holding with an almost clinical detachment. Your face turned scarlet in an instant.

“Draco!” you hissed, snatching the box from his hand and glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.

“What?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “What are they for? Some kind of… candy perhaps?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words without alerting the nearby cashier or the couple in line behind you. Pulling Draco closer by the sleeve of his coat, you whispered urgently, “They’re… for, um, protection. During, uh, intimate moments.”

Draco’s brows furrowed, his confusion only deepening. “Protection? From what? Are Muggles frequently attacked during—oh.”

The realization dawned on his face, his pale cheeks tinging pink as he took a slight step back. He cleared his throat, glancing at the box still in your hand. “I see. That’s… efficient, I suppose.”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your burning face. “Can we please not discuss this here?”

Draco, however, seemed more intrigued than embarrassed now. “Do they… work reliably? Or—how do you even put it on?”

“Draco!” you hissed again, cutting him off as you stuffed the box back onto the shelf behind you.

He smirked at your reaction, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “You’re blushing, darling. It’s adorable.”

“Because you just asked about condoms in the middle of a grocery store,” you muttered, turning back to continue unloading the cart, your face still burning.

Draco chuckled softly, clearly finding your embarrassment far too amusing. He stayed quiet for a moment, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him lingering by the shelf where he’d found the box. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined the options: strawberry, ribbed, ultra-thin. Before you could say anything, he plucked one off the shelf and, with exaggerated caution, tossed it onto the conveyor belt from a distance, as if it might attack him.

You blinked at him, your confusion only growing as you stared at the box sitting innocently amidst the rest of your groceries. “Draco… what are you doing?”

He avoided your gaze, suddenly very interested in straightening his coat. “What? I want to try them,” he mumbled, his voice almost innocent.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you leaned closer to whisper, “Draco, you do realize these aren’t, like, some kind of Muggle novelty item, right?”

He finally glanced at you, his pale cheeks tinged with pink. “I’m perfectly aware,” he said, straightening his posture. “I just… want to see what all the fuss is about.”

You covered your face with your hand, torn between exasperation and laughter. “You are unbelievable.”

The cashier began scanning the items, and Draco, determined to prove himself useful, did his best to place them into the bags you had handed him. His movements were deliberate and almost comically precise, as if packing groceries was a skill to be mastered.

You watched with quiet amusement as he gingerly placed eggs into a bag, his face a mask of concentration. He only paused when the cashier announced the total and you pulled out a card to pay.

Draco’s eyes widened, his gaze darting between you and the small machine where you inserted the card. “That’s how you pay?” he murmured, half to himself.

“Yup,” you replied, suppressing a grin as the machine beeped, signaling the transaction was complete.

But what truly left him speechless was the receipt. The small slip of paper emerged from a hidden compartment with a faint whirring sound, and Draco stepped back slightly, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

“What now?” you asked, noticing his confusion.

He pointed at the receipt, his voice low and serious. “Is it enchanted?”

You chuckled, taking the receipt and tucking it into your pocket. “No, Draco, it’s just a record of what we bought. No magic involved.”

He said nothing, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Once outside, with the shopping bags evenly distributed between you, Draco slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked through the snowy streets. His grip was firm and grounding, but his face was set in a deep, pensive frown. You glanced up at him, his furrowed brows and slightly parted lips betraying the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Deciding not to interrupt, you pressed yourself closer to his side, letting your head rest lightly against the side of his chest. The walk home was quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your boots. Draco remained silent, processing the bizarre journey into Muggle life. You didn’t push him, knowing he’d speak when he was ready—or maybe not at all. By the time you reached your house, his frown had softened, though his eyes still had a far-off look. As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, you caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Next time,” he said as he set the bags down, his tone a mix of humor and resignation, “I’ll handle the receipt.”

—

You busied yourself in the kitchen, determined to make a flawless roast dinner for Draco’s parents. You knew they weren’t particularly fond of you or the fact that Draco was immersing himself in the Muggle world. Still, you were set on showing them that you belonged in Draco’s life, no matter how many raised eyebrows they threw your way. Draco leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you work. His silver hair caught the warm light of the kitchen, and though his expression remained neutral, you could tell he was intrigued. You chopped, seasoned, and kneaded everything by hand, and it was clear he wasn’t used to such a process.

“You really do all of this without magic?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yup,” you replied, sprinkling some herbs over the potatoes. “From scratch. It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”

Draco hummed in response, clearly not convinced but unwilling to argue. The quiet shuffling of aluminum caught your attention, and you glanced over your shoulder.

What you saw nearly made you drop the salt shaker.

Draco stood there holding an unpackaged, rolled-up condom in his hands, a deep frown etched on his face. He was holding it between his fingers like it was a particularly slimy slug, his lips curling in disgust.

You bit back a laugh, trying to focus on the potatoes as you replied casually, “You have to unroll it.”

“Aha,” Draco mumbled, clearly no less confused, as he turned and disappeared into the other room.

You shook your head, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. For a moment, the kitchen was quiet again, save for the sound of the roast sizzling in the oven. Then came muffled grumbles from the other room.

It didn’t take long for Draco to reappear, still holding the condom. His face was a mix of defeat and lingering disgust as he held it up. “I have no idea how this thing works,” he admitted, his voice low. “And why does it feel so… disgustingly slimy?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, clutching the counter for support as tears sprang to your eyes. “Oh my God, Draco,” you managed between fits of laughter.

He scowled, tossing the condom onto the counter as if washing his hands of the whole ordeal. “It’s not funny!”

“It is!” you replied, wiping at your eyes. “You look like you’ve been wrestling with it!”

Draco sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t understand how Muggles deal with this nonsense. Magical contraceptives are far less… revolting.” He glanced down at the discarded condom with a look of pure disdain. “It couldn’t even go on.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back your laughter as you stepped closer to him. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently, guiding his attention back to you. His silver eyes softened slightly, his frown easing as you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips lingering against his just long enough to distract him from his frustration.

When you pulled back, your voice was low, your tone teasing. “You need to be… excited for it to work, Draco.”

Draco blinked, his cheeks immediately flushing a soft pink. He straightened, his usual composure cracking for a brief moment as he processed your words. “Excited?” he echoed, his voice slightly higher than usual.

You grinned, brushing past him to check on the roast in the oven. “That’s right,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just sent his mind spinning.

Draco stood frozen for a moment, glancing back at the discarded condom as if it had betrayed him yet again. Then, he turned to you, his voice laced with indignation. “You could have told me that earlier instead of letting me wrestle with it like some kind of fool!”

You laughed, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Draco huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter once more, his pink cheeks still betraying him. “Muggles,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.

“Alright, Malfoy” you teased, brushing your hands off on a towel. “Go set the table before your parents get here, and I promise no more surprises. For now.”

Draco gave you a mock glare before turning to do as you asked, his mutterings about Muggle nonsense fading as he left the kitchen. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you returned to your cooking. Living with Draco was chaotic, but moments like this reminded you just how much you loved having him in your world—even if he’d never quite understand all of it.

The table was set perfectly, as if Draco had spent as much time arranging it as you had cooking. You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over your clothes as the knock on the door echoed through the flat. Draco opened it with his usual composed grace, greeting his parents with a stiff nod.

Narcissa stepped inside first, her expression polite but guarded as she glanced around the house. “Draco,” she said softly, pulling him into a quick hug. Her gaze flicked to you, and she offered a small, tight smile. “Y/N.”

“Mrs. Malfoy,” you greeted, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

Lucius followed behind her, his sharp features betraying nothing but disdain as he surveyed his surroundings. He inclined his head slightly toward you, though his lips never moved to form a greeting. It was clear that he was only here under duress, likely at Narcissa’s insistence.

“Do come in,” Draco said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the dining room.

As everyone settled at the table, the tension was palpable. Narcissa sat with perfect posture, her delicate hands folded neatly in her lap, while Lucius sat rigid, his cane resting against the table. His icy gaze swept the room, his disdain evident in every furrow of his brow.

Draco, however, seemed unbothered. He stood proudly, bringing out the food you had spent all afternoon preparing. He set the dishes on the table with a flourish, clearing his throat. “Dinner is served,” he announced, his voice filled with pride. “And before you ask—yes, it was cooked entirely without magic or the help of house-elves.”

Narcissa’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of genuine surprise in her eyes. “Really?” she asked, glancing at the dishes. “That’s quite impressive.”

Lucius, on the other hand, let out a scoff, his lips curling into a faint sneer. “Why anyone would willingly endure such a process is beyond me,” he muttered, earning a sharp glance from his wife.

You bit your tongue, focusing on serving the food as Draco sat down beside you, clearly unfazed by his father’s comment. The meal began in awkward silence, the only sounds coming from the clinking of cutlery and the occasional scrape of a chair.

Finally, Narcissa broke the quiet, turning to her son with a warm, curious smile. “So, Draco, what did you do today?”

Draco sat up straighter, his face lighting up as he launched into an enthusiastic recount of the grocery store trip. “We went to this… Muggle establishment,” he began, his voice carrying a mix of awe and incredulity. “You wouldn’t believe it, Mother. Rows upon rows of food and supplies, all sorted into sections. It was fascinating.”

Narcissa listened intently, her eyes softening as he spoke. “That does sound rather intriguing,” she said, her tone genuine.

Draco continued, describing the shopping cart, the conveyor belt, and the curious beeping machine at the till. “And did you know they have these tiny coins you put into the carts to unlock them?” he added, gesturing animatedly.

Lucius let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Draco’s enthusiasm was physically painful. “I fail to see the appeal,” he muttered under his breath, casting a glance toward the window as though contemplating apparating away.

You stifled a laugh, watching the stark contrast between Draco’s animated storytelling, Narcissa’s interest, and Lucius’s clear misery.

“I even packed the bags,” Draco added proudly. “It’s a ridiculous system, but I managed.”

Narcissa smiled warmly, her pride evident. “I’m glad to see you adapting so well, Draco. It’s important to understand how others live, even if it’s different from what we’re used to.”

Lucius muttered something unintelligible, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cane.

Draco turned to you, his eyes bright with satisfaction. “See, love? Mother appreciates it.”

You smiled back, your heart warming at his excitement. “She does,” you said softly, glancing at Narcissa, who nodded in agreement.

Lucius, however, simply sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Let us hope this… experiment of yours doesn’t last too long,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.

Draco’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his composure, reaching for your hand under the table. His fingers squeezed yours briefly, a silent reassurance that he didn’t care what his father thought. The rest of the meal continued with a mix of awkward small talk and Draco’s detailed observations of the Muggle world. Though Lucius remained unimpressed, Narcissa’s quiet encouragement made the effort feel worthwhile. As the conversation wound down and the plates were nearly cleared, Draco suddenly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. His sharp blue eyes glimmered with something unreadable, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I have something to show you,” he muttered, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What is it?” you asked cautiously, your brow furrowing as you tried to guess what he could possibly be up to now.

Draco stood up, strolling out of the dining room with the air of someone retrieving an important artifact. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged puzzled glances, while you felt a flicker of dread creeping up your spine. He returned a moment later, holding a familiar box in his hand.

Your heart sank as your face turned beet red. No. No, no, no, no.

He placed the box of condoms on the table, directly in front of you, and tilted his head with a curious smirk. “You never explained properly,” he said smoothly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed his nonchalant demeanor. “I think it’s time I fully understood how they work.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Lucius froze mid-sip of his wine, his expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. Narcissa’s lips parted slightly as her eyes darted between the box and her son. Meanwhile, you felt your soul leaving your body as your entire face burned hotter than the roast in the oven earlier.

“Draco,” you hissed, your voice a mix of mortification and desperation. “Not now.”

“Why not?” he asked innocently, his smirk widening as he clearly enjoyed your discomfort. “You said it was important to understand Muggle things if I am living here.”

Narcissa cleared her throat delicately, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Draco, darling, perhaps this is a… conversation better suited for another time,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with amusement.

Lucius, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to sink into the ground. “For Salazar’s sake, Draco!” he snapped, his pale face turning an uncharacteristic shade of red. “Have you lost all sense of decorum?”

Draco shrugged, unbothered. “I was merely curious, Father. Isn’t that what this move is about—understanding?”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m going to die,” you muttered under your breath.

Draco leaned closer to you, his smirk softening into something almost endearing. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said quietly. “It’s just a box. Besides, you’re the one who said they’re important.”

“Not during dinner with your parents!” you shot back in a harsh whisper.

Narcissa stood gracefully, reaching for her wine glass and glancing at Lucius, who was visibly seething. “Perhaps we should take a moment to admire the décor in the living room,” she suggested, her tone light but firm. “Give them a moment to… collect themselves.”

Lucius rose quickly, eager to escape the situation, and followed her out without another word.

As soon as they were out of earshot, you turned to Draco, glaring at him through your lingering embarrassment. “What is wrong with you?”

He grinned, his pale cheeks still faintly pink. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Draco,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. But despite your mortification, a reluctant laugh bubbled up, escaping your lips.

Draco chuckled softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Hey,” he said, his voice laced with mischief. “It looks like my parents knew exactly what the box contained.”

You groaned louder, shaking your head as you peeked at him from between your fingers. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s more fun than I had ever experienced in my life,” he replied, smirking. “And because your reactions are priceless.”

You swatted his arm lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing again. “You’re going to pay for this later.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Draco said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with an infuriatingly smug expression.

You shook your head, standing to start clearing the table. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth twitched despite your best efforts to remain stern.

Draco stood as well, grabbing a plate and following you to the kitchen. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother look that impressed. You’re winning her over, you know.”

You glanced at him, your irritation melting a little as you caught the sincerity in his eyes. “Maybe,” you said with a small smile. “But your dad looks like he’s ready to disown you.”

Draco shrugged, setting the plate down on the counter. “He’ll survive. I’d say this visit is going better than expected.”

You arched an eyebrow, gesturing toward the box still sitting on the table. “Even with that little stunt?”

He smirked, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Especially because of that,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you turned back to the dishes. Life with Draco was unpredictable, embarrassing, and absolutely worth it.

After a while, with the kitchen cleaned and dessert plates neatly arranged, you rejoined Draco’s parents in the living room. You placed the cake and a small pot of tea on the coffee table, smiling as Narcissa complimented the presentation. “It looks lovely, dear,” she said warmly, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the first bite. “And delicious.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief at her approval.

Meanwhile, Draco stood by the TV, flicking it on with the remote. The screen lit up, filling the room with sound and color. He had been obsessed with it ever since the two of you moved in, constantly exploring its features and marveling at the variety of channels.

“And this,” he began, gesturing to the screen, “is called a television. It’s a Muggle device that streams moving pictures and sound. There are different stations—some show plays or sports, others music or news.”

Lucius, who had been seated stiffly on the sofa, cast the TV a disinterested glance at first. But as Draco flipped through the channels, his gaze lingered, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Draco settled on a music channel, where a pop song played over vibrant, fast-moving visuals. Lucius leaned forward slightly, his cane forgotten at his side as his eyes remained glued to the screen.

Narcissa, meanwhile, sipped her tea and turned to you with a soft smile. “The cake is truly wonderful, Y/N. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at Lucius, whose face was now bathed in the colorful glow of the TV. Draco was explaining the concept of music videos, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride.

“And these stations,” Draco said, pointing to the remote, “play music continuously. The visuals match the songs—like this one, see?”

Lucius didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were analyzing every detail. Eventually, he gave a slow nod. “Remarkable,” he muttered under his breath, clearly fascinated despite his obvious disdain for anything muggle.

Narcissa glanced at him with a knowing smile but said nothing, letting her husband enjoy his unexpected discovery.

After a while, Narcissa stood gracefully, placing her empty teacup on the table and smoothing the fabric of her elegant robe. “It’s getting late,” she said gently, her tone warm but firm. “We should be heading home.”

Lucius didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on the television, where a lively music video was playing. His normally composed expression was slightly softened, his eyes darting between the screen and the remote in Draco’s hand.

“Lucius,” Narcissa prompted, her voice holding a hint of exasperation. “It’s time to go.”

He finally tore his gaze away from the screen, his brows furrowing slightly. “Yes, yes, in a moment,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively as if he needed just a little more time to understand the contraption.

Draco smirked, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. “I think he likes it,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with amusement.

Narcissa gave you a knowing glance, her lips twitching into a faint smile before turning back to her husband. “Lucius,” she said again, a bit more firmly this time, “we’re leaving. Now.”

Lucius sighed dramatically, rising from the sofa but casting the TV one last, reluctant glance. “I suppose,” he said, his voice tinged with regret, “we can continue exploring this… device another time.”

You exchanged goodbyes at the door, Narcissa giving you a soft pat on the arm and a smile that felt almost maternal. Lucius remained as formal as ever, though there was an unusual glint in his eye as he glanced at the living room one last time.

As the two of them stepped outside, you lingered by the door with Draco. The crisp night air carried the faint sound of their voices as they walked toward the apparition point.

“You know,” Lucius muttered to Narcissa, his voice carrying just enough for you to catch, “we should consider getting one of those televisions for the manor.”

Narcissa’s laugh was soft but unmistakable. “I’ll make the arrangements,” she replied, her tone indulgent.

Draco closed the door, leaning against it with a triumphant smirk. “See?” he said, turning to you. “It wasn’t so bad.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you just converted your father into a TV enthusiast.”

“Not bad for one evening,” Draco said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Though I’d say the real victory was your cake. Well done, love.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss. “Thanks, but I think your TV demonstration might’ve been the real winner tonight.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Of course. I am rather persuasive.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned off the living room lights—a concept Draco still found mildly perplexing. He mumbled something about how inconvenient switches were compared to a simple wand flick as you guided him upstairs to your bedroom.

By the time you finished washing up and changed into your pajamas, Draco was already tucked under the covers. The glow from his nightlight—a softly enchanted orb you’d insisted on for his comfort—bathed the room in a warm, golden hue.

You paused at the vanity, applying cream to your face while sneaking a glance at him through the mirror. He was sitting upright, his brow furrowed as he read the label on the back of the box of condoms. His lips moved faintly as if he were trying to work out some sort of  instructions.

Biting back a laugh, you shook your head and turned off the main lights, leaving only the dim glow of his nightlight. Crawling into bed beside him, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Still trying to figure that out?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Draco looked over at you, holding up the box with a faint smirk. “The instructions are absurdly detailed for something so… basic.”

You chuckled, resting your head on the pillow. “I’m not sure what you expected. Magic?”

“Honestly, yes,” he replied, setting the box on the nightstand and settling under the covers. “Everything’s unnecessarily complicated without it.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, if it gets too overwhelming, just remember—I’m here to guide you through it.”

Draco turned to you, his smirk softening into something warmer. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb lightly over your hand before pulling you closer.

As the nightlight cast its soft glow over the room, you snuggled into his side, grateful for the quiet comfort of the moment. Life with Malfoy was a whirlwind, but here, in the stillness of your shared space, everything felt just right. Draco was silent for a while, though you could feel him thinking, his body slightly tense beneath yours. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft and hesitant. “Could you show me how to use them? Tonight?”

You lifted your head to look at him, his silver eyes meeting yours, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to reassure him. When you pulled back, you smiled gently, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Of course.”

The room fell into a quiet calm, the only sounds the faint rustle of the sheets as you moved closer to him. Draco’s arms wrapped around you, his touch steady and warm. Life in the muggle world had turned out to be far more surprising than Draco had ever expected. It wasn’t as grand or as effortless as the magical life he’d always known, but there was something about it—something real, unpolished, and oddly comforting.

Though, as he discovered later that night, the condoms were nothing special after all.

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© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[fandomtrash-whataboutit]

My TimKon ‘Would You Fall in Love with Me Again’ Animatic

(If i could make animatics :/)

Notes: The roles of Ody and Pen aren’t perfectly assigned bc Tim’s the one who changed but Kon’s the one who was gone, don’t worry, it’ll make sense.

Kon has returned to his normal time/place/life and has been thoroughly checked for being the real, original, correct universe Kon-El. Now, at last, Tim is able to go see him, and reunite with his lost love.

Is it you? Have my prayers been answered? Is it really you standing there or am I dreaming once more?

Tim says all of this with bated breath, not delivering the wild, enthusiastic welcome Kon had been expecting. Kon can tell something is wrong, as can everyone else in the room (I imagine perhaps Superman and dick and/or bruce)

You look different. Your eyes look tired. Your frame is lighter, your smile torn. Is it really you my love?

Kon can see that Tim looks like hell and he is slowly trying to piece together what has happened (I imagine that last part is met with some surprise, as few is any people outside of yj knew of Tim and Kon’s relationship or at least how serious it was)

I am not the man you fell in love with. I am not the man you once adored. I am not your kind and gentle husband. And I am not the love you knew before Would you fall in love with me again? If you knew all I’ve done. The things I can not change, would you love me all the same?

This section focuses on Tim alone, face shrouded in shadow or just tight and anxious. Perhaps one of those cool animations of the camera moving around the central figure (note that words like husband do not have to be taken literally here, because animatic. There will be a whole section like this later)

I know that you’ve been waiting, waiting for love. …What kind of things did you do?

Kon is starting to process that something went very wrong while he was gone. He is getting scared, steps closer, and makes himself ask because he needs to know Tim is okay.

Left a trail of red on every island, as I traded friends like objects I could use. Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands, but all of that was to bring me back to you.

This part might be one of those sections that writes the lyrics on screen to alter them. The first sentence shows Tim’s time with the LoA (note that I don’t subscribe to the belief that Tim like murdered a bunch of people, even if it’s cool to think about sometimes) and say ‘traded PEOPLE like objects…’ because to be fair it was mostly the LoA and stuff that he was using, he didn’t trade friends’ literal lives the way Ody did. The second part would be a big motif of the most obvious thing, the cloning. A literal shot of just Tim, looking miserable, and in the background all around him half-transparent parts of his lab and experiments. (Still Tim below)

So tell me, would you fall in love with me again? If you knew all I’ve done. The things I can’t undo, I am not the man you knew. I know that you’ve been waiting, waiting…

This part mirrors the first chorus with my fun camera spinning thing but this time focusing on both Tim and Kon standing close to one another, both looking utterly grief stricken.

If that’s true, could you do me a favor? Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace? See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here?

This is obviously the least literal part. I imagine the camera goes to Kon for a second to indicate who is ‘speaking’ then shifts to the YJ cave. I haven’t worked out all the kinks for this but I imagine something like maybe a bed because Kon considers it the first real home he had where he was welcomed and wanted by loved ones before Superman and the Kents go involved/got their shit together, something with their initials or the Superboy and Robin symbols carved into it.

How could you say this? I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met. A symbol of our love everlasting, do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!

This part is a lot, obv. The first sentence, a short of present Tim, horrified. Second sentence shows a quick shot of a younger Tim and Kon, Kon’s eyes lighting up with laser vision for a second only for Tim to stop him and carve it into the whatever (bed, smth) himself. The third sentence not a shot of that specific place but the round table in the cave with Tornado and the whole YJ team. ‘A symbol of your love everlasting’ shows a young Tim and Kon looking smitten, ‘do you realize what your have asked me’ hard cuts back to present Tim, finally showing some energy as he gets terribly angry. (Note: maybe a quick shot of spectators before the last sentence but maybe not). Last sentence shows that shot of young Tim and Kon looking smitten getting torn in half, revealing the shot of the whole team which also gets torn in half.

Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him you!

Kon needs to match Tim’s energy here as he finally sees his Rob light up the way he used to be, fiery and free.

Penelope…

Tim frozen in shock, staring at Kon

I will fall in love with you over and over again, I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been, you’re mine! Don’t tell me you’re not the same person, you’re always my husband and I’ve been waiting…

Kon grabs Tim’s shoulders (you know the cliche pose) getting close to him and speaking vehemently. Maybe some shots of them over the years, canon or headcanon moments of when they fell in love. Emphasize Kon’s vehemence on the ‘you’re mine’ cus im a slut for that, and maybe Kon shakes his head on ‘don’t tell me you’re not the same person’

Waiting… Penelope…

Not writing out this whole section cus I’m not copy pasting the lyrics here I’m recording them as I listen. This is a collage of them, colors and moments all around them or snapshots of their past, maybe chronologically and having at least one shot of each of them while Kon was ‘dead’

For you…

As he says this, Kon finally grabs Tim and kisses him. He sweeps him up in a massive hug off the ground as the music peaks, they hold each other desperately close (i mean draw creases on the back of their clothing type shit). I’m also debating, because I dont have much knowledge of canon alternate universities in the comics, if there would be content enough to show alternate versions of them holding each other because they fall in love in every lifetime. As the music calms, Kon gently returns them back to the ground, pulling far enough away to press their forehead together

How long has it been?

Kon asks this, still not entirely sure how long he was gone

Twenty Years

Obv its different, it dont remember the canon time Kon was gone/dead, but ideally it would be shown in month, week, day, hour format bc Tim is normal (for bonus angst do the amount of irl time he was dead cus that was prolly way longer

I love you

Need I even say anything? Holding each other close, they’re both finally smiling

[crush3dmary]

Seeing a post with 10k notes with blatant misinformation about the shelter system that will ABSOLUTELY turn people off of seeking it out if they ever need to might just be my supervillain origin story. If you haven't worked in the shelter system or have never stayed in a shelter yourself I don't want to hear your incorrect sweeping statements about how they're run. Kindly shove it up your ass.

[maraeffect]

started watching hopecore right before bed and MAN. what a life it is we live on this earth.

[many-gay-magpies]

driving me a little insane the more and more i think about it just how much isaac and boyd lowkey switched roles in the middle of season two. someone mentioned it before, i think @thyfggfy, but i didn't really start THINKING ABOUT IT until today for some reason.

like. based off derek's comment and just how they acted together at first, isaac and erica were friends before being turned, meanwhile boyd had NO friends. and isaac really didn't have anyone to keep him in beacon hills (besides scott) after his dad died, meanwhile boyd still has an entire family (who we never meet, granted, but like. they're THERE). and while isaac had an upbringing that would make him more used to the kind of violence caused by people like derek, boyd (again, as far as we can tell, because we basically never heard shit about his childhood except that he had a sister that went missing?) DIDN'T. so with this in mind, it would make sense for boyd to be the one to change loyalties first. it would make sense for him to see how shit derek treats his pack members, be like "yeah im outta here," and go be friends with scott instead. and it would make sense for isaac to be the one to go off with erica in search of a new alpha after they've both finally had enough of derek's bullshit. but instead, it's BOYD who goes with erica in spite the presumed family he's leaving behind and the fact that he's only actually known/been friends with her for a couple months, and it's ISAAC that stays in beacon hills to help scott.

[wcters]

𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘

pairing: max verstappen x fem!leclerc!reader

word count: 1.6k+

summary: the story of how you and max met . . . and how protective he and your brothers can be

request: max verstappen and leclerc!reader : overprotective charles and carlos, very domestic and protective max while theyre int he paddock during race, maybe hes also very affectionate. just some fluff and comedy

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, established relationships | maybe took it too far with the beginning but i couldn’t help it, plus that’s something that max would do

As the youngest sibling and only girl, you knew your family would be protective ━━ especially your brothers. Sometimes you liked it, and used it to your advantage by scaring off random guys at parties and being a little less afraid of walking home at night with them there, but you also hated it sometimes. You knew they just wanted you to be okay and not have to experience the same things they did, but it still sucked. Your parents stuck up for you when they could, but when you first moved out and stayed with Charles there wasn’t much they could do.

They had managed to scare off almost every guy you liked or started a relationship with, saying they were ‘too mean’ or ‘impolite’ or just little things like they didn’t like the way he dressed or how he talked. The longest you had been with a guy was two weeks before he got annoyed at your brothers and left. You ignored them for a week as you only went to school, your job, and hid in your room when you were home. And you bet the got a stern talking to from your parents ━━ especially your mom.

That was the longest you had been with someone . . . Until you met Max. You had heard , and knew of, Max Verstappen as him and your brother did karting together as kids and Charles joined Formula One only three years after, but you had never interacted.

The first time you met was in 2019. You had moved to Monaco for university and were living with Charles. Though Charles had invited you to races before, you always declined busy with school work or your job, where Charles would respond with something along the lines of ‘i don’t know why you have that job anyway’ which you would roll your eyes and flip him off. It was the Austrian Grand Prix that you finally agreed to go, one of the races that Max had won that year. You had gotten some time off from your job and you didn’t have too much work so you agreed.

When you arrived, you were a little overwhelmed so you mostly stayed in the Ferrari garage, talking to Charles and sometimes Sebastian, though they were pretty busy. The next couple days you didn’t have too much time to go out and explore, to worried about watching free practices and qualifying, and you didn’t even think about leaving during the race until it was over.

It wasn’t until the after party that you actually talked to him. You originally weren’t going to go, you were going to stay in and work on homework, until Charles begged you and you agreed . . . but only because he came second and you were proud of him. You were nineteen, so you were legal, but you were sure even if you weren’t you’d be allowed a few drinks, albeit with Charles hovering over you more than usual.

It was about twenty minutes into the party ━━ with you and Charles getting drinks and being introduced to other people ━━ when you got introduced to Max. “Max!” Charles had called over the thumping bass of the music. At first, the Dutch man didn’t hear until your brother yelled right into his ear. He turned around, surprised, before calling a ‘Charles!’ and congratulating him. He didn’t see you until he pulled away from the hug, turning to see you. “This is my sister! Y/n!” He told Max, again yelling. You loudly introduced yourself as you put your hand forward. “Max! You came to watch Charles karting when you were younger right?” You nodded. “I recognize you!”

Max eventually got pulled away by some people, you assumed technicians or mechanics as you don’t recognize them as drivers, and didn’t see each other for another hour. You had stepped outside for a minute, overwhelmed, though you made sure to tell Charles where you were going. When you had, he immediately became concerned but you waved him off, telling him you were okay and just needed some fresh air.

You were leaning against the wall of the building, bottle of water in your hand as you heard footsteps. You quickly turned your head, though calmed once you saw it was only Max. “Scare you?” He asked. You got to hear his voice clearer now, taking in his accent slipping out due to the alcohol. “Can never be too careful. Dangerous for women.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything for a little. As you were taking a sip of water, he started to speak. “First race?” You nodded, “yeah. I’ve watched, obviously, but I’ve just been too busy with school that I haven’t had the chance. It’s been a little overwhelming at times ━━ hence why I’m out here.”

“I get that. It was for me too.” You turned to look at him. “You were seventeen, right?” He looked surprised that you knew that. “Yeah . . . I was.” You could see in his eyes that remembering that was heavy. “That must’ve been hard.” You told him but didn’t plan on talking anymore about it. “It was, but that’s life.” You nodded. You offered him a sip of your water bottle, knowing he must be getting thirsty. He replied with a small ‘thank you’ before taking a sip. “Want to get out of here? I’m done for the night.” You raised your eyebrow, “wow. What a gentleman.” He must’ve realized what that sounded like before he started to sputter, apologizing and saying that’s not when he meant. He look confused when you started to laugh. “I know what you meant. But you are drunk and I don’t have a car.”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Right.” You pulled out your phone, getting ready to call a cab. “I’ll call you a cab and get you one while I tell Charles where I’m going.” “You’re coming with me?” You nodded, “yeah, I’m don’t for tonight too. I’ll help you to your room because you are not as sober as you think you are and then I’m heading back to my hotel.”

You went in, telling Max with a stern finger in his direction to ‘stay where he was’ while you went to grab a bottle of water and tell Charles where you were going. He didn’t approve, warning you to be careful and not fall for anything, but you assured him you were fine.

That night you helped him to his hotel and to his room, finding a bottle of water and aspirin that was in your purse to set on his beside table. While you were leaving, he grabbed your wrist. “Will you take up my offer? Dinner sometime?” You smiled at him. “Sure, but ask me again when you’re sober so you know what you are doing.” The next morning on the plane, you got a text from Max, letting you know he got your number from someone and that he still wanted to take you out for dinner. You agreed, setting a time and place.

That eventual dinner date led to now, almost five years into your relationship. Charles was a bit upset, but after a ‘talk’ with Max, he felt a little bit better about it, and he warmed up after awhile. Your brothers didn’t manage to scare him off. You had warned him, and talked with them about it, so that helped a little.

It was the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix. You sat in the Ferrari garage talking with your brother and Carlos while also keeping track of your boyfriend during the free practice. You were sitting down in one of that chairs with the two men standing. You didn’t even notice something was happening until you felt something hit the back of your head. You let out a small ‘ouch’ while rubbing the back of your head. You tried not to make a scene, but the mechanic who had hit you let out a big ‘oh shit!’ which pulled everyone’s attention. I

Immediately your brother was on you making sure you were okay while Carlos went to chew out the mechanic. Through the pain in your head, and Charles calling for ice and a medical staff, you heard a mix of fast English and Spanish. It wasn’t until the ice was placed on your head that you started to refocus. “Est-ce que ça va (are you okay)?” You nodded, though regretted it immediately. “Ouais. Tout va bien (yeah. I’m fine).” Carlos eventually came over and pulled Charles away to let the doctor examine you. You told them you were fine and that Charles was exaggerating ━━ which they laughed at ━━ before checking you out anyway and clearing you.

Though you know better, you thought that Charles and Carlos would leave it, but you were wrong because later when you got back from the bathroom, you saw the two men talking to a very angry looking Max. When Max saw you, he left the boys and headed straight for you, using his hands to bend your head down and check the back of your head. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “I feel like a monkey being inspected by another monkey.” He pulled your head back up so your eyes met his.

“Schatje.” “Max. I swear I’m fine, it was a mistake.” It was his turn to roll his eyes, “a mistake that shouldn’t happen.” You stars at him, unimpressed. “Max Emilian Verstappen if you do anything I’m not scratching your head tonight.” You told him as you walked away.

“Liefje! That’s not fair!”

[lostfracturess]

THREE LITTLE WORDS — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary — for twenty-four years, satoru gojo has carried three little words on the tip of his tongue, never daring to speak them aloud. growing up as the strongest sorcerer comes with its burdens, and loving someone means putting them at risk. but when you're about to marry someone else, satoru finally realizes that sometimes the biggest risk is never taking one at all.

word count — 7.4 k

genre/tags — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective gojo, idiots in love

warnings — no explicit content (only kissing), mild violence mentions, references to injuries, angst, alcohol use, mentions of arranged marriages, family pressure, reference to assassination attempts

author's note — hey lovelies, with everything that's going on rn, i wanted to write something cute to maybe make someone smile today. there's a little bit of angst in this (sorry, yk me), but mostly it's (bitter)sweet moments. and i tried to keep it somewhat canon-compliant, but maybe not really. and i've written this with gender-neutral pronouns to ensure everyone can see themselves in this story. if you notice any places where i might have slipped up, please let me know.

masterlist

Three little words.

Just eight letters that had lived on the tip of Satoru Gojo's tongue for what felt like forever, desperately wanting to spill from his lips every time he saw you. 

Three words that had haunted him through the years, through scraped knees and graduation gowns, through first dates and near-death experiences.

I love you.

Simple words that carried the weight of universes, that could change everything — or destroy it all. And so, he'd held them back, let them sit heavy in his chest, like a weight that pressed against his lungs with every breath.

Because loving a Gojo wasn't easy. It never had been.

Love had always been a foreign concept to him. Growing up in the Gojo clan meant learning about power before learning about affection, mastering close combat before understanding emotions. 

Love was abstract, complex, something other people seemed to grasp naturally while he watched from behind barriers of privilege and power.

But with you? With you, it had been as clear as breathing.

It hadn't been the dramatic, earth-shattering revelation movies always promised. Instead, it was quiet, constant, like realizing the sun had always been there, warming his skin. It was in the way you shared your lunch without being asked, how you never flinched when his powers flared, how you rolled your eyes at his dramatics but smiled anyway.

Love had been the easiest thing in the world when it came to you. Understanding it, feeling it, living it — that part was simple.

It was everything else that was complicated.

Because Satoru knew what happened to people the Gojos loved. He'd seen it, lived it, carried the weight of those consequences since before he could walk. Love, in his world, wasn't just about feelings — it was about target signs and weaknesses, about giving your enemies a roadmap straight to your heart.

And your heart? That was something he couldn't bear to put at risk.

So he had learned to swallow those words, to tuck them away behind smirks and jokes and casual touches that never lasted quite long enough. He had become an expert at loving you silently, at pouring all those unspoken feelings into small acts of protection, of care, of presence.

Some days, the words would claw at his throat like living things, desperate to escape. On those days, he'd find himself watching you — the way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the simple fact of your existence in his complicated world — and the urge to confess would be almost unbearable.

But then he'd remember all the attempts on his life, all the enemies who would love nothing more than to hurt him through you, all the danger that came with the name Gojo, and the words would retreat back into his chest where they lived like a constant ache.

Loving you had been the easiest thing Satoru had ever done. Keeping that love silent had been the hardest.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 6 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time Satoru realized he wanted to say those words to you, he had been six years old and you were crying because some older kids stole your favorite crayon. You had both been sitting in the reading corner of your kindergarten classroom, and your tears were making his chest hurt in a way he didn't understand.

"Don't cry," he had said, reaching out to pat your head like his mom did when he was sad. "I'll get it back for you."

You had sniffled, looking up at him with those wide, watery eyes that made his little heart skip. "But they're bigger than you."

He had puffed up his chest. "So? I'm stronger."

Before you could stop him, he had marched right up to the group of second graders during recess. They towered over him, but Satoru hadn't cared. He was a Gojo, after all, and Gojos didn't back down.

Ten minutes later, he had been sitting in the principal's office with a bloody nose and a black eye, but clutched triumphantly in his hand was your favorite crayon. The principal had called his parents, of course. There was talk of his "concerning behavior" and "excessive force," but all Satoru could think about was how your whole face had lit up when he handed you back that crayon.

That night, as his mother tucked him into bed, she had asked him why he did it. And he simply said because you were sad.

His mother had given him a look that he wouldn't understand until years later. "The Gojo men have always been weak to those they love," she had told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He had wanted to tell you then, as you colored together the next day, carefully sharing that rescued crayon. The words had bubbled up in his chest like soda fizz, but he had swallowed them down. Because even at six, he knew that being around him meant trouble, and he didn't want to see you cry again.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 12 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Middle school had brought new challenges and new reasons to keep those words locked away. 

Satoru had started to understand what it meant to be a Gojo — the weight of the name, the expectations, the suffocating responsibilities that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

You were still there, though, somehow always by his side despite the chaos that surrounded him. When other kids whispered about his family, about the strange things that happened around him, you just rolled your eyes and shared your lunch with him like nothing was wrong.

He had nearly said it one autumn afternoon when you were both sprawled on your bedroom floor, supposedly doing homework but really just talking about nothing and everything. The late sunlight had caught your features just right, and you were laughing at something stupid he had said, and the words had almost slipped out.

But then his phone had rung. It had been his father, summoning him to an urgent clan meeting.

Another reminder of the life that awaited him — endless meetings about maintaining the Gojo name, about upholding traditions centuries old, about sacrificing personal happiness for the sake of the clan's future.

As he had sat in that austere meeting room, surrounded by stern-faced elders discussing bloodlines and duties and arranged marriages, all he could think about was your laugh from earlier that afternoon. How free it had sounded, how untainted by the weight of expectations and tradition.

How could he tell you he loved you when being with him meant dragging you into this world of rigid traditions and suffocating responsibilities? When loving him meant you might have to give up everything you held dear?

So he had swallowed the words once again, buried them deep, even as they burned in his chest like embers that refused to die. Because he would rather suffer in silence than watch the weight of the Gojo name dim the spark in your eyes.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 16 ⁺ 　 . ✦

High school was when Satoru had started deliberately pushing people away. He had built walls of arrogance and casual flirtation, keeping everyone at arm's length while making it look effortless. He dated casually, never seriously, and cultivated a reputation as someone who didn't do relationships.

Everyone had bought it except you.

You saw right through him, just like you always had. You called him out on his bullshit, threw erasers at his head when he was being particularly obnoxious, and somehow still showed up at his house with his favourite sweets when he was sick.

"Your ego's getting too big for this classroom," you'd tell him whenever he started showing off. He'd just grin and make it worse, because your exasperated sighs had become his favorite sound.

During lunch breaks, while others gathered around his desk trying to get his attention, you'd just roll your eyes and steal food from his plate. He'd pretend to be annoyed, but he had started packing extra of your favorites, just to watch you light up when you found them.

High school had also been the time when the clan's pressure had threatened to crush him. Every day brought new expectations, new techniques to master, new reminders that he wasn't just Satoru but the future of the Gojo clan.

He never told you, but your presence had kept him sane. You had been the only one allowed to see him practice with his cursed technique, sitting on the sidelines of the training grounds doing homework while he worked himself to exhaustion.

On the days when the pressure of being the strongest got too heavy, you'd wordlessly share your earbuds with him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder while some silly pop song played between you. And you'd hold his hand, and he'd squeeze back so tight it almost hurt.

In those moments, the words had been right there, sitting on his tongue. But he couldn't. Not when your friendship was the one pure thing in his complicated life.

But the words had nearly escaped one night when you were both sneaking back into town after a concert two cities over. You had been wearing his jacket because you forgot yours, and you were singing off-key to some pop song on the radio, and his heart had felt so full it might burst.

But then he had spotted a car that had been following them for the last twenty minutes, and instead of confessing, he had to lose the tail while pretending everything was fine. You never noticed, too caught up in your impromptu karaoke session, and he had been grateful for that at least.

He had driven you home in silence after that, the words buried so deep he could barely breathe around them. You had fallen asleep against the window, blissfully unaware of how close he'd come to changing everything between you.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 18 ⁺ 　 . ✦

College had brought a new kind of torture. Because then he had to watch you date other people, normal people who didn't have assassination attempts over breakfast or cursed energy that could level cities.

He still kept you close, though. He couldn't help it. You were his gravity, his true north, the one constant in his chaotic life. You were still the person who brought him coffee during all-nighters, who listened to his ridiculous theories at 3 AM, who somehow knew exactly when he needed a hug even though he'd never admit it.

The campus had whispered about it — about how the untouchable Satoru Gojo let you into his space so easily, how you were the only one who could barge into his dorm at any hour without fear of consequence. 

They wondered what made you special, what kind of hold you had over him. If they only knew how many times he had bitten back those three words when you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during late-night study sessions, or how his heart had nearly burst when you'd chosen to spend the evening with him instead of going to that party your crush had invited you to.

The words had almost broken free during your sophomore year, when you had shown up at his door at midnight, crying because someone broke your heart. He had held you while you sobbed, stroked your hair, and plotted seventeen different ways to destroy the person who hurt you (he had only acted on three of them, and nobody could prove anything).

He remembered how you had curled into his side that night, hiccupping through tears about how you "just wanted someone who understood you."

The irony had burned in his throat — he understood you better than anyone, had mapped every constellation of your moods and meanings, had memorized every shade of your smile.

But understanding wasn't enough when being with him meant inheriting all his complications.

You had fallen asleep in his bed that night, wrapped in his favorite hoodie, and he had spent hours just watching you breathe, his heart aching with how much he wanted to keep you there forever.

When morning came, you had smiled at him over coffee and thanked him for being "the best friend anyone could ask for," and each word had felt like a knife between his ribs.

He had wanted to tell you then, had wanted to show you how you should be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally. But he knew he couldn't offer you the normal life you deserved, so he had swallowed the words again and just held you tighter.

Instead, he had channeled all those unspoken feelings into being the kind of friend you needed. He walked you home from late parties, threatened anyone who looked at you wrong and pretended it didn't kill him every time you gushed about a new crush. 

What you had never told him was that each crush faded as quickly as it came, because somehow they all fell short of the impossible standard he had unknowingly set.

He became an expert at loving you from arm's length, at being everything you needed while hiding how much he needed you.

The worst part was how naturally it all came to him — how easy it was to be the one you turned to, to be your safe harbor in every storm. Because loving you had always been as natural as breathing, even when it hurt.

Especially when it hurt.

College became an impossible balance of keeping you close enough to stay in your life but far enough away to keep his heart from completely shattering.

He dated casually, built up his reputation as someone who didn't do commitment, all while knowing that the only person he'd ever wanted to commit to was right there, wearing his hoodies and stealing his fries and completely oblivious to how much power you held over him.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 22 ⁺ 　 . ✦

After graduation, you had both somehow ended up in the same city. Different jobs, different lives, but still orbiting each other like you always had.

You dated other people, and so did he (sort of), but you still met for coffee every Wednesday and dinner every Sunday, still texted each other random thoughts at inappropriate hours.

Those Wednesday coffee meetings had become sacred. He'd show up at your workplace, two cups in hand — one with less sugar but lots of milk, the way you liked it, and his own ridiculously sweet like his smile, as you always teased. 

He had memorized your schedule, knew which days you worked late, which mornings you had important meetings. On the nights when your job kept you at the office past midnight, he'd lurk nearby, pretending he just happened to be in the area when you finally emerged exhausted. 

You'd roll your eyes but accept his offer to walk you home, and he'd fight the urge to take your hand every step of the way.

Sunday dinners were even worse for his heart. Sometimes you'd cook (badly), sometimes he'd order in (expensively), but it always felt so domestic it hurt.

The way you'd steal bites from his plate, like you always used to do, how you'd curl up on his couch afterward like you belonged there, the casual way you'd rest your feet in his lap while watching movies — it was everything he wanted and nothing he could keep.

The words had nearly escaped during one of those Sunday dinners, when you were both a little drunk on wine and nostalgia, laughing about all the trouble you had gotten into growing up. You had looked at him with such fondness, such understanding, and he had almost broken.

"Remember when you punched that guy at the bar who wouldn't leave me alone?" you had asked, cheeks flushed from wine and laughter.

"Which time?" he had replied, only half-joking. There had been several instances, each one burning in his memory because how dare anyone make you uncomfortable.

"All of them," you had laughed, reaching over to poke his cheek. "My hero."

The word had squeezed his heart like a fist. Hero. If only you knew how selfish his protection had always been, how each act of defending you had been as much about his own possessive need to keep you safe as it was about your wellbeing.

You had shifted closer on the couch then, laying your head on his shoulder in that casual way that always made his breath catch and his fingers had itched to run through your hair, to tilt your face up to his, to finally close the distance he'd been maintaining for so many years. 

The words had risen in his throat like a tide. But then his phone had buzzed with an alert about another threat, another mission, another reason why loving him was dangerous, and he had bitten his tongue until he tasted blood.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 25 ⁺ 　 . ✦

It had gotten harder as the years passed. Harder to watch you live your life, harder to keep pretending he didn't want to be more than your best friend, harder to keep those three words locked away.

He had started taking more dangerous missions, throwing himself into his work with reckless abandon. Because if he was busy fighting curses and saving the world, he couldn't think about how much he wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to finally let those words free.

At least, that's what he had told himself as he accepted increasingly risky assignments, each one a little more dangerous than the last.

The other sorcerers had started calling him reckless. But how could he explain that facing down cursed spirits was easier than facing the way you looked at him with such concern? That physical pain was a welcome distraction from the constant ache in his chest?

But you were still there, still calling him out when he was being stupid, still patching him up when he came back injured, still looking at him like he was someone beyond his name and his power.

He always saved one small injury for you to tend to — a scrape here, a bruise there — even though his reversed cursed technique had already healed the worst of his wounds. It had become your ritual, you'd patch him up at your apartment, your coffee table covered in supplies that he didn't really need, both of you pretending this wasn't an elaborate excuse to be close to each other.

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," you had muttered one particularly bad night, hands trembling slightly as you cleaned a gash on his forehead that would have healed on its own in seconds. But he had let you fuss over it anyway, selfishly savoring every gentle touch.

The words had almost broken free one night when you were stitching up a particularly nasty wound on his side. Your hands had been gentle but your lecture was harsh, telling him off for being so careless with his life.

He could have healed it himself — you both knew that — but he had wanted your hands on him, even if they came with a scolding.

"You're not immortal, you idiot," you had said, and there were tears in your eyes that made his heart clench. "I know you think you're invincible, but you're not. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

The raw emotion in your voice had nearly undone him. He had wanted to tell you then that he only acted so reckless because loving you from afar was slowly killing him anyway. That every mission, every fight, was just another way to exhaust himself enough that he wouldn't do something stupid like confess his feelings and ruin everything between you.

Instead, he had just made a joke about being too pretty to die, and pretended not to notice when you wiped your eyes. But he had caught your hand as you turned away, held it perhaps a moment too long, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in what he hoped felt like reassurance.

Your apartment had become his retreat those days. He would show up at odd hours, sometimes bleeding, sometimes just exhausted, and you would let him in without question. You never asked why he came to you instead of using his technique to heal himself. Maybe you had known, just like he had, that these moments weren't really about the injuries at all.

There had been nights when he'd fall asleep on your couch, lulled by the sound of you moving around your apartment, by the domestic comfort of knowing you were near. He'd wake up to find himself covered with a blanket, a glass of water on the coffee table, and his heart would ache with how much he wanted this to be his everyday reality.

Sometimes, in his weaker moments, he'd catch himself watching you as you worked on your laptop, curled up in the armchair across from him. The soft glow of the screen would wash over your features, and he'd think about how easy it would be to cross that small distance, to finally tell you everything he'd been holding back.

But then he'd remember the last mission, the close calls, the enemies who were getting stronger and bolder, and he'd force himself to look away. Because loving him had always come with a price, and he wasn't willing to make you pay it.

So he had buried those feelings deeper, thrown himself into more missions, and pretended that the ache in his chest was from the fights and not from loving you so much it physically hurt.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 28 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The breaking point had come, as these things often did, on an ordinary day.

You had both been in your apartment, having one of your regular movie nights. You were wearing old sweatpants and one of his hoodies that you had stolen years ago, there were takeout containers scattered across your coffee table, and you were arguing about whether the movie's plot made any sense.

It had been so normal, so comfortable, so perfectly you and him that something in his chest finally cracked.

Because he had realized, watching you gesture wildly about the movie's plot holes, that he had been an idiot. He had spent over two decades trying to protect you by keeping his distance, but you had been in danger this whole time anyway. Because everyone who knew him knew that you were his weakness, his soft spot, the one person who could bring the great Satoru Gojo to his knees.

And you had stayed anyway. Through every fight, every danger, every close call, you had chosen to stay in his life. You had patched his wounds, celebrated his victories, mourned his losses, and never once asked for anything in return except his friendship.

That night, he had decided tomorrow would be the day. No more waiting, no more excuses. He would finally tell you everything.

He had barely slept, spending hours picking out the perfect flowers, hoping they would help say everything his heart had been trying to tell you for years. He had practiced the words in his mirror, ran through a dozen different speeches, each one feeling more inadequate than the last.

But when he had arrived at your apartment building that morning, flowers clutched in sweaty palms and heart thundering in his chest, he had seen them through your living room window. You weren't alone. Someone else was there, someone who had made you throw your head back in laughter, who had pulled you close with an ease that made his chest constrict.

He had watched, frozen on the sidewalk, as you reached up to brush something from their cheek, the gesture so tender it had felt like a physical blow. The flowers in his hands had suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

Satoru had stood there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, watching you be happy with someone else, watching you shine so brightly for another person. Then, with movements that felt mechanical, he had dropped the flowers in a nearby trash can and walked away.

Three words, still unspoken, had burned in his throat with every step.

For weeks after that, he had thrown himself into missions like a madman, taking on the most dangerous assignments he could find. Anything to avoid thinking about how he had waited too long, how he had lost his chance.

But then you had called him one night, voice slightly slurred from wine, asking him to come over. And like always, he couldn't refuse you.

That's how he had found himself back in your apartment, watching you pace back and forth, ranting about how empty it all felt. How you had tried to move on, tried to find what everyone said you should want — a normal relationship, a simple life, someone safe.

"But it's not right," you had said, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "Nothing feels right. They're nice, they're perfect on paper, but—"

"But what?" he had asked, his heart in his throat.

"But they're not you," you had whispered, the words hanging in the air between you like suspended stars.

A movie had still been playing in the background, forgotten as you both stood there, years of unspoken feelings spilled on the floor. The weight of your confession had made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, just a moment, he had let himself imagine what it would be like to close the distance between you, to finally say the words that had lived in his heart for so long.

But then his phone had buzzed in his pocket — another threat, another reminder — and reality came crashing back.

"You can't," he had said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" You had taken a step toward him, and he had forced himself to take one back, watching hurt flash across your face. "Satoru, I've waited—"

"Then stop waiting," he had cut you off, hating himself for the way his words made you flinch. "This isn't—we can't—" A pause. "Do you know how many attempts there have been on my life this month alone? How many enemies would love to know that the great Satoru Gojo has someone he—" He had caught himself before the word 'loves' could escape. "Someone he cares about?"

"I'm not afraid—"

"Well, I am!" The words had burst from him with more force than he'd intended, making you both freeze. "I am terrified, okay? Because everyone I've ever—everyone who gets close to me ends up with a target on their back. And you—" His voice had softened despite himself. "You deserve better than that. Better than looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, better than wondering if each goodbye might be the last."

"That's not your choice to make," you had said quietly, and the resignation in your voice had been worse than anger would have been.

"Yes, it is. Because I'm the one who would have to live with it if something happened to you because of me." He had straightened his shoulders, pulled on the mask he wore for everyone else — cold, untouchable, removed. "Go back to them. Find someone normal. Someone safe. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"And what about what I want?"

"Sometimes what we want isn't what's best for us." The words had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a long moment, tears gathering in your eyes, and he had dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for you. Finally, you had nodded once, sharp and hurt.

"Get out."

He had turned to leave, each step feeling like he was walking through concrete. At the door, he had paused, his hand on the handle.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered, not turning around. Because if he had looked at you then, his resolve would have crumbled entirely.

The soft click of the door closing behind him had sounded like the end of everything.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 30 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Two years of carefully maintained distance had felt like an eternity. The clan's pressure had mounted with each passing month — meetings about bloodlines, about duty, about carrying on the Gojo name. His parents had finally put their foot down, presenting him with a list of "suitable" candidates from other prestigious families.

Satoru had turned it into something of an art form, really — how to be just obnoxious enough, just impossible enough, that each carefully selected partner would run screaming for the hills without him technically refusing anyone.

"This is getting ridiculous," his mother had sighed after the seventh failed meeting. "Are you going to chase away every eligible human on this earth?"

Yes, he had wanted to say. Because none of them were you.

You still texted occasionally — surface-level messages about holidays or birthdays, the kind of distant politeness that felt wrong after decades of intimacy. He had saved every message anyway, re-reading them late at night when missions left him too restless to sleep.

Your contact photo was still the same one from college, you resting your head on his shoulder, laughing at something he’d said. He couldn’t bring himself to change it.

Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of you around the city. You'd cut your hair, changed jobs, moved to a new apartment. He knew all this from the careful distance he maintained, from the reports he definitely didn't ask Ijichi to give him.

You seemed... fine. Happy, even. It was what he'd wanted, he told himself. You, safe and happy, even if it was without him.

The invitation had arrived on a Tuesday.

The envelope had been cream-colored, expensive. His name written in elegant calligraphy that had made his stomach drop before he'd even opened it. Inside, the words had blurred together, except for the ones that mattered.

You were getting married.

To someone safe. Someone normal. Someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

The invitation had sat on his coffee table for days, taunting him. He'd catch himself staring at it during his morning coffee, during late-night mission reports, during every quiet moment when his mind wasn't occupied with staying alive.

Your handwritten note had been worse than the formal invitation.

'I'd really like you to be there. Please come.'

His phone had been in his hand before he'd realized it, your number still muscle memory after all this time. The cursor had blinked at him mockingly as he'd tried to formulate a response.

'Congratulations,' he had finally typed, each letter feeling like a small death. 'I'll be there.'

Because of course he would be. He'd sit there and watch you marry someone else, would paste on a smile and give a toast if asked, would pretend his heart wasn't being ripped from his chest with every word of the ceremony.

It was what he deserved, really. He had pushed you away, had made the choice for both of you, had convinced himself it was for the best. This was the consequence of his protection, the price of keeping you safe.

He had gotten drunk that night, alone in his apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of all the words he'd never said. The three most important ones still burned in his throat, unspoken after all these years.

His phone had buzzed with your reply. 'Thank you. It means a lot.'

Four words that had somehow hurt worse than the invitation itself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of your wedding had dawned grey and miserable, as if the weather itself was matching Satoru's mood. He'd been away on a mission until the last possible moment, taking out his frustration on cursed spirits with perhaps more violence than strictly necessary.

He had arrived at the venue late, soaked from the rain, his suit probably ruined. But he'd promised to be there, and he'd never broken a promise to you before. He wasn't about to start now, even if it killed him.

But when he had made his way inside, he'd immediately sensed the chaos inside. Hushed, worried voices had carried through the open doors. "Has anyone seen them?" "The ceremony should have started twenty minutes ago." "Check the dressing room again!"

But Satoru had known exactly where to find you.

The venue's grounds had stretched back to a small lake, and there, beneath an old maple tree whose leaves provided little shelter from the rain, you had stood. Your wedding outfit was getting steadily soaked, but you hadn't seemed to notice or care, staring out at the rippling water.

He had approached slowly, drinking in the sight of you. Even with dirt stained cloths and dripping hair, you had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Everyone's looking for you," he had said softly.

You hadn't turned around. "I know."

"Three hundred people in there wondering where you've gone."

"Three hundred and one, now that you're here." Your voice had been quiet, almost lost in the rain. "Why are you here, Satoru?"

"You invited me."

"That's not what I meant." Finally, you had turned to face him, and the look in your eyes had made his heart stutter. "Why are you really here?"

He had taken a step closer, drawn to you like gravity, like always. "You know why."

"Do I?" Your voice was so small. "Because I thought I knew, once. I thought I knew a lot of things. But then you pushed me away, told me to find someone safe, someone normal." You had gestured toward the building behind you. "Well, I did. So why are you here?"

"I—"

He had caught sight of a small cut on his cheekbone in a puddle's reflection — the one injury he hadn't healed, the one he'd kept out of habit, out of the memory of your gentle hands patching him up all those years.

Your eyes had followed his, landing on the cut. Without seeming to think about it, you had reached up, fingers ghosting over the wound like they had a thousand times before. The familiar gesture had nearly broken him.

"Don't marry them," he had whispered.

"What?"

"Don't marry them," he had whispered again. "Please."

"Why not?" The question had been barely a whisper. "Give me a reason, Satoru. One real reason why I shouldn't walk back in there and marry someone who actually wants me."

"Because—" The words had stuck in his throat, years of habit holding them back.

"I love you," he had whispered, the words falling into the rain-soaked space between you, and suddenly he could breathe again. Twenty-four years of holding back, of swallowing those words, of carrying them like stones in his chest — and now they were free, floating in the air between you like butterflies finally released from their cage.

"I love you," he had said again, stronger this time. "I've loved you since we were kids. I've loved you through every fight, every mission, every time I tried to push you away for your own good. I've loved you so long I don't remember what it feels like not to love you."

"You—" Your voice had broken. "You idiot. You're telling me this now? When there are three hundred people waiting inside? When I've spent months trying to convince myself I could love someone else?"

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Shut up," you had breathed, and then you had pulled him down by his lapels and kissed him.

He had kissed you back like a drowning man finding air, like coming home after a lifetime of wandering. Your lips had been cold from the rain but soft against his, and when you had melted against him, he'd felt something in his chest finally slot into place.

Years of careful control had shattered like glass, and he had wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground in a surge of desperate joy. You had gasped against his mouth, and he had taken the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pouring decades of longing into it.

He had spun you around, your hands threading through his wet hair as he held you against him like he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. Rain had continued to fall around you, but neither of you had noticed or cared.

His hands had splayed across your back, holding you impossibly closer as he kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to make up for every kiss he should have given you over the years.

When you had broken apart, you were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together as the rain continued to fall around you. Your fingers had still been twisted in his jacket, and his hand had still been cradling your face like you were something precious, something he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.

The weight of all those unspoken words, all those careful distances he'd maintained, all those moments he'd held himself back — it had all lifted away like mist in the morning sun. For the first time in twenty-four years, he had felt truly, completely free.

"You're so stupid," you had whispered, but you hadn't moved away. "There are three hundred people in there, expectations, plans, a whole life I'm supposed to—"

"Run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me," he had repeated, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "Right now. Let me take you anywhere you want to go. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for lost time, for every moment I was too scared to love you the way you deserved."

"Satoru—"

"I know it's selfish," he had continued, words tumbling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, not after pushing you away. But I can't— I can't watch you marry someone else. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering what if, knowing I let you go without fighting for you."

You had laughed, the sound wavering between tears and joy. "You really are the most impossible man I've ever met."

"Is that a yes?"

"My parents will never forgive me."

"I'll win them over."

"The clan will be furious."

"Let them be."

"Everyone will talk."

"Let them talk." He had cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the rain and tears on your cheeks. "I don't care about any of that. I just care about you. About us. Everything else… we'll figure it out together."

"Together," you had repeated softly, like you were testing the word. "You won't push me away again? Try to protect me by leaving?"

"Never again," he had promised. "I'm done running. Done pretending I don't love you more than anything in this world. Done letting fear keep me from the only thing that's ever really mattered."

You had searched his face for a long moment, and he had let you see everything — all the love, the fear, the desperate hope he'd kept hidden for so long.

Finally, you had smiled, bright and real, the smile he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Take me away from here," you had said, and his heart had soared. "Show me what it's like when Satoru Gojo finally stops holding back."

He hadn't needed to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he had swept you into his arms, your surprised laugh warming something deep in his chest.

"What about everything inside? My things, the guests—"

"I'll send Ijichi to handle it," he had said, already walking away from the venue, from the life you'd almost had without him. "Right now, all that matters is you and me."

"And where exactly are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you want," he had promised, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Everywhere. We have a lifetime of moments to make up for, after all."

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your face against his shoulder. "I love you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear."

He had tightened his hold on you, something fierce and protective and overwhelmingly tender swelling in his chest. "Say it again."

"I love you, Satoru Gojo," you had whispered against his neck. "I always have."

As he had carried you away from the venue, the rain had finally begun to let up, sunlight breaking through the clouds. A new beginning, he had thought.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Looking back, Satoru couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. All those years wasted, all that time spent pushing you away when he could have been holding you close. He'd thought he was protecting you, but in reality, he'd just been protecting himself from the terrifying vulnerability of being truly, completely loved.

Because that's what you did — you loved him entirely, unconditionally, with a fierce devotion that still took his breath away. You loved him through the dangerous missions and the late-night emergencies, through the clan meetings and the political drama. You loved him through the nightmares and the victories, through every high and low that came with being Satoru Gojo.

Life wasn't perfect, of course. There were still threats, still enemies who thought they could use you to get to him. But they had learned, quickly and painfully, that you weren't some helpless weakness to exploit. You were his strength, his anchor, his reason for coming home safely every time.

Those old fears seemed ridiculous now. Because yes, loving him came with dangers — but you had always known that, had always chosen him anyway. And together, you were so much stronger than apart.

The clan had been furious about the wedding scandal, of course. But it was hard to maintain their anger when you handled every social situation with grace, when you proved yourself more than capable of standing beside the strongest sorcerer in the world.

Eventually, even the most traditional elders had to admit that perhaps the Gojo heir had chosen well after all.

Your old routine had shifted, evolved into something even better. Now when you patched up his wounds (the ones he still deliberately saved for you), he could kiss you afterward. When you fell asleep during movie nights, he could pull you close instead of maintaining that careful distance. When you brought him coffee during all-nighters, he could show his gratitude with more than just words.

The best part, though? The absolute best part was being able to say those three words whenever he wanted. And he said them constantly — whispered them against your skin in the morning, called them across rooms just to see you smile, breathed them into quiet moments like prayers.

"I love you" when you handed him his coffee, exactly how he liked it.

"I love you" when you rolled your eyes at his dramatic entrances.

"I love you" when you fell asleep on his shoulder during clan meetings.

"I love you" when you patched up injuries that didn't need patching.

"I love you" for no reason at all, just because he could, just because the words had lived in his heart for so long that letting them free still felt like a miracle.

And every time — every single time — you said it back, like you'd been waiting just as long to be able to say it freely.

Sometimes, on quiet nights when you were both home safe, he'd watch you doing something mundane — reading a book, making tea, existing in his space like you'd always belonged there — and the gratitude would hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Gratitude that you had waited, that you had loved him through his fears and his mistakes, that you had given him the chance to love you properly.

Because that's what he did now — loved you properly, openly, with everything he had. No more holding back, no more careful distance. He loved you the way you deserved to be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally.

And every day, for the rest of his life, he made sure you knew it. Three words, eight letters, repeated like a promise, like a prayer, like the most important truth he'd ever known.

I love you.

And every day, for the rest of your life, you said it back.

author's note — after editing this, i realised it's more angsty then intended but oh my i'm sorry, i can't help it. but i hope it made you smile anyway. thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this story. your support means the world to me. in these challenging times, please remember that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn. sending lots of love your way <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[tanaor]

Want simple tips to heavily improve your skills with character voice??

(📝Note: character voice is the way you convey your character's personality though their pov or dialogue when you write. No two characters speak the same📝)

I speak from experience when I say character voice is hard to get right. Characters, like people, have lots of layers that affect the way they see the world around them and how they interact with other characters. That's why character voice is so important in stories, and why if you write it in a compelling and effective way it will hook people into your story. I hope you learn something new in this post!!

When writing character voice, there's a list of things that you should take into account:

Where are they from? Their past and what they've lived plays a huge part in character voice. Maybe your character grew by the ocean, and so they compare things from the present to the beach, the rocks or the sea itself. You will rarely read about a sailor that is an expert in pants and compares scents to flowers. They might, instead, talk about how a house smells like the wet wood of a ship.

Think about how their personality shapes their language. If they are insecure, they might end most of their sentences with "isn't it?" or "right?" and ask a lot of questions, whereas if you have a confident character, you might find them saying things like "we should do this" or "that will be fun" instead.

What their "lense" is. This is more of an ethic aspect of the character. What have they learn it's okay, and what do they find uncomfortable? Would they find it gross if their friend left laundry on the floor?

Give them special traits (both for dialogue and narration). Maybe character A quotes a lot when they narrate and uses long paragraphs, or maybe B speaks about their past a lot and uses popular sayings. Personally, one character of mine has the tendency to repeat himself when he speaks, as in "yeah, yeah, I'll do it" or "no, no, no. Never" because he is really enthusiastic, and it fits really well with his character.

Pay attention to how they would talk about themselves. Maybe your character doesn't like people to know they're sad because it makes them feel vulnerable, so they will just say they feel annoyed or don't want to talk in that moment. This also means that they will not tell the reader something they are not comfortable saying in the first place.

How is their education? Education is also very important in this context. Did they went to university and have a rich vocabulary and structured sentences, or where they rised in a little farm far from town? You can also play with both a bit: maybe your character did go to university, but maybe they also came from a low income family, and characteristic of both things merge when they talk. Example: long, structured, sentences but a simple and sight forward vocabulary.

That's all for now and happy writing!!

Other tips for writers: previous | next

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

[treasureyourfire]

~ Where is my Soulmate? ~

Welcome Souls~

I am sending my new pick a pile reading for you.~

We often have to travel a long way to find our eternal, romantic soulmate/divine partner. The road leads through struggles, wounds, lessons and healing. We think about where they are, what they do, what their life is like, when we finally find eachother...

I think, "when" is malleable. The decisions we make, how we shape our lives and ourselves can influence it, and perhaps that's more important where we go with our own growth until we meet them. That's why I didn't get into that in the readings.

Choose the image(s) that attracts you the most. Accept from the messages what you can identify with, and let go of the rest~

Illustrations belongs to Jumo.Art (Facebook, Instagram, Etsy)

Reminder:

* These are not gender-specific readings, I use They/Them pronouns. * These are collective, timeless readings for entertaintment. * I am not a professional reader and readings that I do are a part of my learning process. * The tarot can provide guidance, but you manage your own life according to your free will. Feel free to keep what resonates, and let go of what doesn’t.~ * (English is not my mother language, sorry for the mistakes.)

To what extent are You ready to receive your soulmate? Four of Pentacles, Page of Wands, Sun, Four of Cups, Hierophant

Dear Soul! In this period of your life, you are/have been striving for security, balance, and stability. You plan for the long term, for durability. You focus on building your foundations: it can be your home, your financial situation or your physical body, your health. You are an honest, straightforward person, but cautious. In the past period, you may have closed yourself off a bit to protect everything that is important to you and that you fought for. Maybe you just settled somewhere. You cling to a secure foundation both on the earthly and spiritual planes. At first, under the surface, which may seem stoic and serious, lives a dreamy, enthusiastic, artistic soul with a rich world of emotions. You are ready to use your creativity to develop and enrich yourself with new experiences. Recently, you are starting to open up to the world and come out of your shell. You want to shine like the Sun, enjoy life obliviously, fulfill yourself in it, get the most out of yourself. I feel that your circumstances give you the opportunity to do so. Despite this, you still have moments of skepticism when you feel uncertain. Sometimes you still think about things that didn't go according to your plans. Your experiences and relationships so far have not satisfied your desires and needs, and you cannot really believe that something better than what you experienced in the past can awaits you. However, something that is pure, a sincere gift may appear to you, you just have to break down the barriers built around you and learn to trust again, to believe that the universe -or what you believe in- supports you and encourages you to look at the bigger picture. You are dedicated, you strive to create lasting values in your relationships as well. You would like to share your long-term goals and desires with the right partner to whom you would commit yourself for life. You are looking for a spiritual unity/bond that is solid, where you receive emotional security, mutual trust, intimacy, in which you support and inspire each other, and you can develop together, solving difficulties together.

To what extent are They ready to receive you? Ten of Cups, Eight of Pentacles

Fully! I smile and it fills me with joy when I look at your soulmate’s cards. They are full of love and enthusiasm, they long for a family, a happy home full of laughter and abundance, with you. They think of you as a team, in which they would support you in everything as an equal partner. Maybe lately they have been a little more immersed in their work or other personal projects, but if you find each other, they'll be just as dedicated to your relationship. Maybe they will feel that they have to work for your trust, but they don't mind. They have persistent, hardworking personality. Thoughtful, patient, humble, attentive to details, not intrusive. They will pay attention to you, your signals and what you need. Maybe they will shower you with gifts (if this is what you want), if they see that you like this way of expressing their emotions to you. Maybe they also have an artistic vein, like to create with their hands, and will surprise you with they self-made works. I sense that your soulmate is eager to welcome you into their life, but at the same time they are trying to wait patiently until you are ready to come to them of your own free will.

What symbols and signs will indicate to you that your soulmate is nearby? Knight of Cups

Helmet - It may sounds funny, but I mean a kind of Gallic helmet what the characters wearing in the Asterix stories. Wings (can even be a car emblem) Horse - winged pegasus or earth horse, may be in color white Silver and Blue colors could also dominate. Fish (including goldfish, koi), scales, scaly pattern, wave pattern, Japanese-style waves, which can often be seen in tattoos

When I saw the card, I felt as if my lungs were filled with fresh air. A clean, soothing feeling. I was relieved. Or as if a sip of cool, fresh, clean water had washed my throat. Maybe you will experience similar feelings when you meet them.

Where and under what circumstances will you meet? King of Swords, Tower, Three of Pentacles, Page of Swords

A situation where you need knowledge, wisdom, good judgment, clarity, rationality, good communication skills, clear communication, maybe leadership or organizational skills (you two don't necessarily have to be in a leadership role, but a person of this role can be present). Perhaps in circumstance where there is a sudden change, an unexpected task arises. It maybe include a light tower, but this is a bit special, of course this cannot apply to everyone, the image just flashed in front of me. Planning, re-planning/building (because of the Tower card), learning, discussion, consultation, teamwork, team building. Maybe, possible misunderstandings and doubts should be clarified, the fog should be dispelled with an objective view. Honest, open communication will be required.

Advice: What to focus your energy on in other areas of your life until you meet: Moon, Ace of Cups

Let yourself sink into the depths. The Moon gently asks you to examine your fears in the darkness surrounding you. It invites you to turn inward, do introspection and self-research. All feelings, traumas, ideas, picked-up or learned patterns that intimidate, unsettle and hold you back are hidden in this subconscious depth. Examine what is preventing you from welcoming love (back) into your life, be it romantic or of any kind. By uncovering these barriers in yourself, renewal and healing can begin, and you can open up again to the love that awaits you from both yourself, from the outside world, from your future soulmate. In the quiet retreat, you can prepare yourself for development, for moving on, rebuild your faith in a better future and fill your own cup before coming to the surface again.

To what extent are You ready to receive your soulmate? Reversed Six of Swords, Seven of Cups, Two of Swords, Temperance, The Fool

Dear Soul! You had to get yourself out of a difficult situation. You had a strong resistance to moving on. You may have been haunted by excessive caution, overburden, mistrust (even paranoia) in the past period. You lived in fear, and this internal struggle hindered your progress and development. There was confusion in you and around you. You were unsure of your possibilities, you couldn't determine what your true calling was, what would take you forward, what you could trust, and what was false or (self-)delusional. Maybe it only applies to a small percentage of you who chose the second picture, but maybe someone clouded your clarity with illusions and took away your confidence, maybe gaslighted you. You were confused and waiting for someone or something to rescue you from your hopelessness. You had to make a difficult decision. You needed to exclude all kinds of illusions and external influences, to silence the chaos and your fears in your thoughts in order to find your inner voice. You wanted to finally see clearly and continue your life more consciously. Over time, you overcame your difficulties, the hoped-for enlightenment arrived, you managed to make the decision and move on. The Sun is rising on the horizon for you, an ascension is coming in your life. You are relieved, you are on the road to recovery. Your outer and inner worlds are beginning to harmonize. After a thorough self-examination, you now see yourself more objectively and manage your emotions more consciously. In your bundle you carry your experiences and lessons with you, but you have left the past behind you, you do not let it continue to chain you down. The most important thing is that you are finally free. I wish that the new beginning fills your heart with hope and confidence, and that the knowledge of that you were able to overcome the difficulties gives you the strength to embark on the next, much happier phase of your life that awaits you.

To what extent are They ready to receive you? Four of Swords, Queen of Wands

It seems that your divine partner is resting after a difficult period too, consider things while they are healing (or just recently the healing phase is coming to an end for them). For them, the primary goal during this period is to regenerate and recharge their batteries. They must regain their strength and their love of life. First, they must warm up their own soul, so later, when your paths cross they can invigorate you with their pleasurable personality, and after that, as your relationship deepens, they can embrace you with their caring, devoted warmth. They need to gather courage and fix their self-confidence so that they can see the future more optimistically. It is necessary for them to turn inward now, they must process and understand their own emotions and what happened to them, so that later they can trust their intuition again, which will lead them to you.

What symbols and signs will indicate to you that your soulmate is nearby? King of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles

Sword, dagger Butterfly Crown Frog Flying bird(s) Pentagram, star a Ring (jewelry) what you maybe find in an unusual place or one that has one of the listed symbols on it Crescent moon Reaping hook Bunch of grapes Flowers for decoration/ornament/sticker, bouquet the color Blue can play a role

Where and under what circumstances will you meet? Ace of Cups

It seems like a place close to nature, near water, maybe next to a lake, where water lilies float on the water, or in a park, maybe by a fountain (perhaps with coins in it), in company of birds, where you can feed them. A sound of a small bell. I don't know where the jingle came from, but it has a nice, cheerful sound. Maybe you'll hear a similar sound when you meet eachother. You will meet at a time when you are both ready to accept new emotions, a new relationship, when you have reached the appropriate phase of self-care, practicing self-love, when you can give because you have taken care of filling your own cups.

Advice: What to focus your energy on in other areas of your life until you meet: Nine of Cups, Ace of Swords, Reversed Six of Cups, Strength

Take care of yourself, celebrate! Enjoy what you have achieved, reward yourself! Take advantage of the clearing of your thoughts. Let the new ideas and inspirations take you away. You can start to opening up to new communications, new acquaintances and opportunities. Sometimes you may even be filled with nostalgic feelings, which make you play with the idea: "Everything was good in the beginning." "Everything could be like that again." Please don't turn back! Avoid people with energy/vibe that reminds you of the old ones. Stay aware, leave the past in the past, don't nurture old things, ideas, relationships that you have already outgrown for your own benefit, that no longer serve you, they only drain your energy from your present and your future. Try to transform your experience into your strength. Nurture the inner strength to move forward, turn to yourself and your shadows with patience and understanding. Maybe you need to heal your inner child/teen, give yourself the care and love you need and desire. You have endless opportunities to grow and develop, you have the resources you need for further healing, and to tame and silence those shadow creatures that would encourage you to repeat old patterns. Hang in there for yourself, for your recovery.

To what extent are you ready to receive your soulmate? Queen of Wands, Reversed Hierophant, Ten of Cups, Reversed Eight of Wands, Reversed Moon

Dear Soul!

You are full of fire and passion. Confident, creative, intense, emotional, warm-hearted, devoted. You are aware of your values ​​and you are looking for the king/queen in whom you can find an equal partner, who is strong enough to walk beside you, with whom you can create your own empire, like proud lions.

You long to experience all forms and heights of happiness, as well as the feeling of completeness and fulfillment, with a true, supportive partner.

You want this in such a form that you can keep your personal freedom and independence. You don't necessarily desire the bond of marriage in order to meet expected traditions and/or social expectations on paper. Perhaps you have already had a bad experience in the past, disappointment, breakup, divorce, a relationship that did not satisfy you spiritually and emotionally, where your soul could not soar.

Yet you would give your whole heart if you could find your soulmate, the ally with whom you could finally establish a home and live your life in abundance and overflowing love.

Yet there is something that holds you back, paralyzes you. There is an inner tension in you because you want to move forward, but you can't. Things around you are not going the way you want them to. Something always gets in the way, breaks your momentum, your sense of purpose. Whether there are obstacles in the physical world or internal obstacles that do not allow you to continue on the path to your soulmate, they also prevent you from fully opening up and becoming receptive to this attachment.

The voices of anxiety, fear, and uncertainty suppress your own inner voice, which would show you the way to your truer life. To unlock and release this inner barrier, you must turn inward, dive into the darkness, find the source of your fears, and examine it to see clearly. Just observe them in silence, if you let go of the struggle against them, accept their presence, the light of enlightenment may even reach you sooner. Maybe you need a quiet, meditative retreat to find your inner compass, the light of the Moon that illuminates the path you can follow.

To what extent are They ready to receive you? Eight of Cups, Reversed King of Wands, Reversed Three of Wands, Reversed Nine of Pentacles

Meanwhile, your soulmate also tries to move on with difficult feelings and to leave their past, everything that no longer serves them. A period ended for them, and they set out on a new path towards the unknown. There are several challenges ahead of them that they must overcome to reach the top of the mountain, but despite their doubts, a small inner flame drives them on.

For me, the Reversed King of Wands usually does not reveal excessive aggression, but rather a lack of self-confidence, battered confidence. I sense a restless energy from them, like from you.

They obsessively wants to accomplish, or stubbornly sticks to an idea, maybe that’s why they don't listen to their intuition. Maybe that's why it's hard for them to adapt to their changed circumstances.

A new world opened up to them, but they not very optimistic about it. They doubt and hesitate, even though they have all the potential to take control of their life, they just need to rediscover that ability and determination within themself. They really need commitment now to start over. They need to examine their options with foresight, carefully plan their journey and prepare for it before making further decisions. They should not make decisions out of haste or thoughtlessness, and they maybe unwilling, but have to accept the intentions of others to help.

They strives for financial independence and longs for abundance so that they can give the best to their loved ones. They want a stable life where they don't depend on anyone and can enjoy the fruits of their hard work.

What symbols and signs will indicate to you that your soulmate is nearby? Page of Pentacles, Reversed Four of Cups

Pentagram, star

A specific Coin or Jewelry (maybe with one of the listed symbols on it)

Object of longing/admiration - what you get for yourself, or you find something you've been looking for, something you wanted to deal with, something you wanted to know more about, something you admire

Palm tree – (Eggsecutor jumped in my mind, maybe you or them are in the Pokemon fandom but not necessarily)

Unexpected gift/opportunity - You will find a new opportunity/offer that will shake you out of your dullness

Where and under what circumstances will you meet? Reversed Eight of Pentacles

I feel like there is a forced break in this situation. Restrictive circumstances or financial difficulties may play a role in work or study.

Like:

Job interview, job searching, go to employment office, work break, any kind of break in education, forced leave, slow administration/work, long line, long waiting, enrolling in a course, suspended/cancelled/missed/postponed event/course/workshop, unfinished business.

Advice: What to focus your energy on in other areas of your life until you meet: Knight of Wands, Reversed Five of Wands, Reversed Queen of Pentacles

You probably would not like to hear this, but; Patience, dear Soul. You really want this person who can make a difference in your life. You are bubbling with action, you are thirsty for new, exciting experiences, but in order to move away from the dead end, you need to channel your energies into a healthy channel. "Great excitement can also result in a stressful situation that prevents a well-considered decision and correct action." If you get carried away by the intensity, you can get involved in conflicts that don't move you forward, they just eat up your vitality. You need patience, persistence and sanity. It's worth avoiding or not taking stressful situations too seriously, rather use the power of your inner fire to overcome your own internal battles to get closer to what you really want to create. During this period, it is important to sort out restless energies to avoid burnout. Ground yourself, let the flames subside, rest for a while, seek stability. It’s important to take care of your health. Take care of yourself, you need the right physical and mental nourishment to find your center. Think about what foods and nutrients you take in, pay attention to your body's signals. Try meditative activities/techniques that you like, seek contact with nature, be it a walk in the park or time spent with animals, do creative activities, anything what you feel that helps you to relax.

The reading is permeated by the energy of the number 888. A phase of both of your lives is coming to an end so that something much better can begin for you. Abundance and harmony is headed your way, just keep going. You have to prepare and go through some trials, but if you are committed and open to transformation, you will definitely get closer and closer to your desired goals and to each other.

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part6

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: pregnancy symptoms

previous - next

You're sure it’s all coming to an end.

This is how things will wrap up. You didn’t expect to experience these days like this. You hoped for a nice pregnancy, one full of flowers—no, not flowers, they wouldn’t do. You’d imagined a cozy, cushioned, perfectly comfortable pregnancy.

You were sure you could handle anything that came your way. There was nothing you couldn’t accomplish. At least, that’s what you believed.

But today, you’re convinced the world is ending.

Everything, everyone feels like an enemy. It’s not that you think the world revolves around you, but you’re pretty certain that everything in it holds a grudge against you.

It’s the moment where your life seems to be unraveling, every piece of familiarity breaking apart. As if every sense you have has turned against you, you stand in a moment that should be ordinary, but instead, it feels as though the universe has designed a unique form of torment just for you: an assault by smells.

At first, it starts small. A faint, floral scent wafts in on a gentle breeze. You take a breath and recoil—suddenly aware that every scent you’d barely noticed before has escalated to the level of catastrophe. And this assault feels custom-made for you.

It’s not just annoying; it’s tragic. The life-wrecking kind. As if the whole world conspired to make you sense every odor within a fifty-kilometer radius. Maybe you’re exaggerating, but with good reason. Even the air itself feels like it’s joined a scheme to turn your life into a living hell.

“Is this really how it’s going to end?” you wonder, brows knit in frustration and disbelief. “Not with some grand, heroic moment, but because of the lovely scents of spring flowers and who knows what else?”

You tug the collar of your shirt over your nose, hoping for some relief, but it’s no use. The smell is still there, ruthless and unavoidable. Every little thing—each faint whiff of grass, distant barbecue smoke, even that fresh ocean breeze—seems to assault you from every angle.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to step outside again. Ever. What if this is your reality now? The girl who can’t even stand a pleasant spring breeze.

Before going to bed, you’d hoped today would be a good day. With the cooler weather, you figured you’d finally be able to sit on the balcony and enjoy the day. But the moment you woke up, you knew that was never going to happen.

You didn’t wake up normally. It was more like waking up in a storm. Your hair a tangled mess, all those stupid smells already churning your stomach. For a moment—a brief, ridiculous moment—you thought the smell was coming from you, and you ran for a long shower, hoping to wash off whatever it was that haunted you. But even in the shower, every scent seemed so overpowering—you honestly thought you might die right there.

You barely remember dressing and making it out of your room. You didn’t even have time to dry your hair. Even though the warmth of the air was no real threat, you normally liked taking time to do your hair. But today, you hated it. Just like you hated everything and everyone else.

Your parents had already left for work, but the lingering scent of their perfume filled the house. Not like a fading scent, either, more like they’d moved in. They might as well have been living with you now…

Just one more thing to hate.

And the worst part? Even if you threw up, the nausea wouldn’t subside. It was killing you from the inside, torturing you. Almost as if it were enjoying watching you suffer.

Of course, you hated that, too—classic.

You can’t deny that stepping out onto the balcony brought a bit of relief. The only smell that didn’t bother you was the salty sea breeze. But even if the sea and salt provided some comfort, those damn blades of grass. The green monsters.

You hated every single one of them—every blade of grass on the planet.

This world reeked. You definitely needed to move to a different planet.

Your phone lights up with notifications, and you glance at it, rolling your eyes at the useless updates. You hate the sound they make, but you’re too lazy to turn off the notifications.

The first video on Instagram has you widening your eyes.

You really might die.

Right on the screen are juicy cherries and strawberries. Right there, in front of you. You want to lean in and take a bite. Just seeing them makes it feel as if their scent is reaching you, and for once, you don’t hate it. For a fleeting moment, you think the world might be a good place again.

It doesn’t take long before you’re in the kitchen, searching every possible spot for fruit. You scour the fridge, praying there’s just one, but there’s nothing.

If you don’t eat a cherry or a strawberry right now, you know you won’t make it. And the fruits staring back at you from your phone screen aren’t helping.

Your pregnancy has been…unique. You’ve turned against the things you once loved. You used to be a banana fanatic, but now even seeing one makes you queasy. The smell alone is enough to make you throw up. You could catch the scent of a banana even from the other side of an open field.

Thank goodness your family finally understood and stopped buying them. You didn’t want to see or smell them.

Chocolate was a different story. You used to love dark chocolate, but now it was a love-hate relationship. Some days, the smell was unbearable, and others, you felt like you couldn’t get out of bed without it. Milk chocolate was fine. A classic. You always loved it. But white chocolate…that was your sworn enemy. You hated the greasy feel it left in your mouth; it didn’t even taste like real chocolate.

Disheartened by the lack of cherries or strawberries in the house, you leaned against the counter, your gaze fixed on the screen. They looked so inviting. Juicy, fresh, bright red—they were calling your name. They were crying out for you. They wanted you.

You couldn’t hold back—

You tried to calm yourself. You could ask your family to pick some up on their way home. But waiting until evening felt impossible. It wasn’t just that you needed the fruits; the fruits needed you.

Besides—it wasn’t you, it was the baby. Right?

Without thinking twice, you dialed JJ’s number. You didn’t have many friends. JJ wasn’t really a friend either, but they knew you were pregnant. And since they’d brought you ice cream the other day, you thought maybe—just maybe—they’d do this too.

If they didn’t, well, you’d just hate them.

They whined at first, like a baby. And you hated them for that. You’d asked politely. In your way, but still polite. But the call ended in a minor argument, and you hung up on them.

Yet about twenty minutes later, as you lounged on the balcony watching a video, you noticed a blonde figure approaching your house from afar, a smile creeping onto your lips.

You still hated him. But if there were strawberries or cherries in that bag he were carrying—well, let’s be honest, you’d still hate him, but just a little bit less.

“Don’t get too excited,” JJ said, climbing up the steps to your porch with a cardboard bag in hand. You quickly closed your laptop and nudged it aside.

You could’ve hugged him, but that would’ve been too much. And unnecessary.

As you got up and walked over, he looked at you with a smug grin. His hair was tousled from the wind. He looked a bit…tired, but still the same, with that empty look in his eyes—the one that always made him seem a bit clueless.

As you pulled the bag toward you and peeked inside, your eyes sparkled at the sight.

He’d gotten you the fruits you wanted. He practically glowed before you. You could almost hear them calling, “Mommy!” or “Eat us!”

As you gazed at the berries, you heard JJ muttering, “It’s for the baby, not you. And do you have any idea how expensive these were? The guy ripped me off! Told me they were organic and pesticide-free—these better taste good, or I’m going back to give him a taste of my punch.”

Honestly, you couldn’t care less about what he were saying. Even if you wanted to listen, your eyes and mind kept drifting to the fruit. JJ, noticing this, just smiled as you slipped a strawberry from the bag.

Before you could even get the strawberry to your mouth, JJ’s hand shot out, grabbing yours. You turned a questioning look on him, but he was staring at you in horror.

“Don’t eat that, dude! Are you crazy?” he practically shouted.

“Let me eat it! What is wrong with you?” You tried to pull your hand away, but JJ let the bag drop to the floor, using his free hand to pry the strawberry from yours.

“Wash it first, will you? You’ll make yourself sick.” You made another grab for the berry, but he jerked back, hiding it behind him. Was he playing some kind of sick game? You could just about strangle him.

When he still wouldn’t give it up, you lunged for the bag on the floor, but JJ was faster, snatching it up and holding it out of reach. “You’re acting like you wash every berry you eat! Give it here; one berry won’t hurt me.”

JJ only smirked, raising the strawberry to his own mouth. You stared in disbelief, seriously considering murder as he bit into your strawberry. He had a special way of making even a good deed annoying.

You watched as he took a bite, juice dribbling down his chin. That should have been you. That strawberry was yours.

“Look, I get it, you think I’m crazy. But in case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one eating it, and I’m definitely not pregnant, so if anyone’s getting sick, it’s just me, not some baby. Now, once you wash these, I won’t say a word,” he said with a sarcastic eye-roll.

Did he… did he just… gently parent you?

While he finished the rest of the strawberry, he nodded toward the kitchen. You took a deep breath, reluctantly heading inside, leaving the door open behind you. You heard JJ following, his footsteps close behind, and ducked into the kitchen as quickly as possible.

He let out a low whistle, glancing around at the kitchen. “Nice place you’ve got here. Get me a bowl. I don’t trust you with that, either.”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed a big bowl from the cabinet, handing it to him. He accepted it with a smug grin, eyes fixed on you. “Your hair’s wet.”

Was he stupid, or just messing with you?

“Yeah, and?” Did he think you didn’t know? You’d left it wet on purpose. Besides, drying it would’ve taken extra effort.

Setting the paper bag on the counter, JJ gave you another pointed look. “Idiot.”

Was it even possible to spend time with JJ and not roll your eyes?

Absolutely not.

That guy had a sixth sense for irritating you. So what if your hair was wet? It wasn’t the end of the world.

You hopped up onto the kitchen island, quietly watching as JJ washed the berries with exaggerated care. His back was to you.

As annoying as he was, you knew you probably owed him a thank you for going out of his way like this. Not many people would’ve done it, and if you’d asked anyone else, they would’ve asked too many questions. And then, somehow, everyone would know.

When JJ finally came over with the bowl of freshly rinsed fruit, a draft blew in from outside, bringing a horrible smell with it.. It was as if the air itself was rotting.

“What is that smell?” JJ looked around, half-thinking maybe it was him.

“What smell?” He was giving you a look, probably convinced you were imagining things. He’d just showered, put on fresh clothes, so he was certain it wasn’t him.

Watching you pinch your nose, JJ started sniffing around. You looked ready to bolt, but you clutched that bowl of strawberries like your life depended on it. Wherever you were going, they were coming with you.

“It reeks, JJ! Don’t you smell it?” You took your hand from your nose just long enough to give his a quick flick, making him wince. You hadn’t even hit him that hard.

“Are you crazy? There’s no smell—it’s the air freshener. You’re seriously losing it.” Your eyes widened as you realized where the stench was coming from. No way were you staying here a minute longer.

That air freshener—that evil little device—was getting tossed tonight. The second your parents got home. You weren’t about to suffer with that scent for another second.

You leapt down from the counter, sidestepping JJ and covering your nose as you rushed for the door. “Not going to die in there today.”

As you darted outside, you could hear him laughing behind you, and your brows furrowed. Was he actually finding this funny?

“Dying? Seriously? It’s just an air freshener—it’s not like it’ll kill you!”

Oh, it was going to meet its end in his mouth if he kept this up.

You dropped into the big armchair on the veranda, finally popping a strawberry into your mouth.

The taste was indescribable. Pure sweetness and flavor exploded as soon as you bit down, almost overwhelming. You actually closed your eyes, a satisfied sigh escaping you as you sank back, like you’d just tasted a little slice of paradise.

“You good?”

You opened your eyes, finding JJ grinning at you as he sat down in the chair next to yours. You smiled back, nodding.

“Thanks,” you said, popping another strawberry in, and JJ’s smile widened as he nodded, murmuring, “You’re welcome.”

Not going to lie, you wanted to keep every last one for yourself. But since he’d gotten them for you, it felt wrong not to share. You held the bowl toward him, and he took a cherry, tossing it in his mouth.

“You know what just hit me?” JJ looking at you with a glint in his eye as he munched on the cherry. You set the bowl between you on the armrest, curling up in the seat comfortably. “The air out here stinks.”

While JJ just looked at you, his brows raised. He paused for a moment, sniffed the air, and then shook his head. “Honestly—not trying to mess with you, even if I do enjoy annoying you. But there really is nothing. It doesn’t smell like anything.”

He looked at you seriously as he leaned back and took a bite of a strawberry.

Even though you stared at him like he was an alien, he just kept looking at you. You searched his face for some sign of judgment or that classic “you’re crazy” look, but nothing. Just seriousness.

“I hate these pregnancy symptoms. They ruin everything.” You leaned back, refusing to let go of the bowl. But when you heard sounds beside you, you looked up.

You watched as JJ pulled his phone from his pocket, and you popped a cherry in your mouth. Just as you thought he was bored with you and about to ignore you, you heard him start reading: “It says here: Eat smart. Leave your windows open. Sniff the good stuff. Distract your nose. Chew on a piece of gum or suck on a hard candy…blah blah blah. Show me the conclusion here—yep; Unfortunately, there’s no way to train your nose not to be super sensitive while your hormones are surging. This is one of those mom-to-be experiences you’ll have to wait out until the later months.” With a deep sigh, he tossed the phone aside.

Did he just… no. You weren’t even going to think about that. Not now, not ever. He actually just… no. Stop.

Eat a strawberry. Yes. Strawberry.

“To summarize, that’s all nonsense. I’m sure there’s a fix. Don’t worry.”

You took a deep breath, shoved a couple more strawberries into your mouth, and nodded. You weren’t going to stress about it. Of course, it would go away.

“Calm down, Strawberry Monster. They’re all yours.”

Feeling an odd pang, you looked down at your hand. Slowly, you put an untouched strawberry back in the bowl, sitting up and chewing the berries in your mouth as you brought a hand to cover it. JJ was watching you with that—idiotic expression. He really needed to stop looking at you like that.

You just… felt weird. In a way you’d never felt around him. Almost like—like… embarrassment.

You hated it. You hated this feeling. Who did JJ Maybank think he was to make you—feel embarrassed?

He… he couldn’t. It didn’t even make sense to feel that way. You didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Just—ugh.

“What did you do today?”

What did you just say? No, you didn’t. You didn’t actually ask him about his day, right? This was just a dream. Yes, a daydream. That’s all.

JJ looked at you in surprise, like you’d thrown him off, and you hated yourself for that moment of panic. Was there never a time you could actually think clearly?

Out of all the ways to switch the subject, out of all the things you could tease him about, you asked him about his day? Like you were close? Like friends who ask each other how their days went?

Why don’t you send a good morning text while you’re at it? You’re such an idiot.

JJ glanced at you in shock, fidgeting with his hands as he pursed his lips. He pulled his hand away from the bowl and set it in his lap, looking away thoughtfully. Then he turned back to you.

“Stayed home,” he said, lifting his hand to scratch his neck. Things had suddenly gotten so awkward. Had either of you ever asked this kind of casual question before? “Well, my dad’s place. I left the house this morning. Surfed for a bit; the weather’s getting colder. Feels like the last few days of the season. You should try it—before it’s too late, I mean. Took a shower, stopped by John B’s place. Was there most of the day. Then you called.”

Besides the strange awkwardness of the question itself, you listened carefully, actually a little surprised he answered. You expected him to tease you for it.

You nodded to show you were paying attention. But still, you couldn’t help but wonder. John B and his other idiot friends—did they see that you’d called? Did they talk about you? Did they know you were pregnant?

No. He would’ve told you if they did. You didn’t want to admit it, but you trusted him. He wouldn’t tell.

“You said’ JJ, please, please bring me strawberries. I’m begging you.’ And, because I’m a hero, I immediately grabbed the strawberries—” JJ barely managed to shield himself as a pillow you tossed at him hit him square in the face, and he let out a pained groan as you laughed.

You hadn’t begged him. He was exaggerating, as usual. You didn’t.

“You’re rude.” JJ took the pillow and set it in his lap, grabbing a cherry and biting into it. “You’re liar.” You chuckled as juice from the cherry ran down his white shirt. “And an idiot.”

As he looked at his shirt in dismay, he tossed the rest of the cherry in his mouth. “Oh, shit.”

As you both sat in silence, you handed him a napkin from the table, but there was no saving that cherry-stained shirt. It was a goner. A small part of you felt guilty, knowing it was sort of your fault. Hormones were a nightmare. Getting upset over a shirt was stupid. But you felt bad anyway.

“Want me to lend you a shirt?” You didn’t really care what he said. You were going to grab one anyway. You just asked to make him feel like he’d made the decision. He was still grumbling as you stood up. You grabbed a strawberry as you turned to go. You could hear him calling after you, but you didn’t look back.

“It’s really not necessary. Hey!” Whatever he said, it didn’t matter. Your hormones were all over the place, and you’d rather just give him a shirt than obsess over that stain for days.

In your room, you stopped to look through your closet, pausing when you saw certain shirts. It felt like the universe was playing a joke on you. There was Rafe’s shirt. And not just his—the one JJ had given you on that day at the beach was in there too.

Caught up in the memories, you took a deep breath. Without a second thought, you grabbed Rafe’s shirt and shoved it to the back of the closet. He didn’t belong in your life anymore. He’d chosen that, and you’d accepted it.

You didn’t want to see him. You’d gone out of your way to avoid certain places just because you knew he might be there. You weren’t sure if you were more scared of bursting into tears or slapping him if you saw him. You just didn’t want to see him.

You were afraid of people noticing your stomach. It was barely showing, still small enough that no one else would see, but you knew it was there. And you didn’t want anyone else to know. You were scared. You weren’t ready to tell anyone, so you kept to yourself.

You stayed home, knowing no one could see you here. But lying around all day had gotten boring. Your chest ached with growth, and your back was screaming. You needed something to distract you, anything to focus on. But instead, you let your fear keep you stuck here. And you couldn’t stand it.

Thinking of JJ waiting for you downstairs, you pulled yourself together and glanced at your closet. You could give him his shirt, but—your hand went to your own white T-shirt instead. For reasons you didn’t quite understand, you chose that over JJ’s sky-blue, detailed tee.

Shutting the closet, you pushed memories away, focusing on what lay ahead. Your future. Your small family. You and your tiny baby.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t get hung up on the past.

Straightening the shirt in your hands, you stepped out onto the veranda. JJ was out there, taking in the massive front lawn. Probably imagining he could play golf on it—it was that big. His attention turned to you as you came outside, his gaze settling on the shirt in your hands. Realizing you were about to make him wear it, he took a deep breath as he watched you settle into the big chair beside him.

When you handed him the shirt, there was a quiet understanding between you. Without a word, he took it, stood up, and, without hesitation, took off his own shirt.

So—he was undressing in front of you.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen a guy shirtless before, but it still felt...weird. You’d seen him like this hundreds of times—hanging out on the beach, at parties, surfing, or just swimming with you.

But this felt different. He wasn’t doing it for fun or the beach. He was changing clothes. And you felt like some creep, like you were spying on him.

You couldn’t remember ever looking at him this closely. His skin was smooth like porcelain, and he looked like he’d been drawn to perfection. But his shoulders were the most noticeable feature. His V-line was just barely visible above his low-riding short—

You were startled out of it when his shirt smacked into your face. “Stop staring, creep.” JJ chuckled as he put on the shirt you gave him.

You hated him for that. But, honestly, you deserved it. You’d been staring. And you hated that even more.

You knew JJ would keep teasing you, as always. Soon enough, he got a call from John B about something “urgent” and said he had to go. You didn’t stop him.

The rest of the day, you ate all the strawberries and cherries JJ had brought over. The day was so dull you thought you might pass out from boredom. You even tried to sleep just to pass the time.

Hours later, you were stretched out on the couch, arm draped over your forehead, letting out a deep sigh. You’d tossed the automatic air freshener out in the yard earlier, so the house finally smelled right.

The door opened, and you didn’t need to guess who it was—it could only be your parents. Your mom set her bag by the door and approached you with that concerned “mom look.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted with a soft smile. Too exhausted from battling weird smells all day, you barely opened your eyes. As her footsteps came closer, she sat beside you, stroking your hair.

She’d finally come to terms with the fact that you were keeping this baby. She was being kinder, warmer to you, and you were grateful for it. With your hormones already wreaking havoc, you couldn’t handle your family being harsh on you. And, honestly, you couldn’t blame them. If your own daughter had gotten pregnant, you’d probably react the same way. “How was your day?”

Turning to face her, you let out another dramatic sigh. Your mom was the only person you could let yourself be a little dramatic around. She’d even started indulging your mood swings. “It was awful. The air...smelled wrong. Like I was breathing in something sour and flowery at the same time. I wanted some fresh air, but everything outside felt too much. The neighbors’ lawns smelled like they were on fire. I even threw out that air freshener because it was practically a health hazard!”

Your dad, standing by the door listening to the conversation, exchanged a knowing look with your mom. That silent parent communication—they didn’t need words to be on the same page. They probably chalked it all up to pregnancy hormones. But to you, the world really did feel like a sensory assault.

He came over and sat on the edge of the couch, giving you that serious look he used when he really wanted to listen.

When he gently said your name, it caught your attention. Sitting up a bit, you looked over at him, and he took a deep breath. He seemed ready for a serious talk, but your mom beat him to it. “Have you...thought about taking a tour of the island, love? Maybe it’d do you some good.” You shook your head, rejecting the idea right away.

Not anytime soon, anyway.

You’d barely managed to go to the hospital, and only on the condition that it was on the mainland. The last thing you wanted was for people on the island to find out you were pregnant. The thought of anyone gossiping about you made your stomach churn, so no. You weren’t doing it.

“Couldn’t you just try?” Your mom’s voice softened. She knew what was going on, understood how you were feeling, but it bothered her to see you isolating yourself when your bump wasn’t even showing yet.

It hurt her to see you wearing yourself down like this. She already felt like she’d failed as a mom for not protecting you, and seeing you holed up inside just twisted the knife.

“I don’t want to. I’m...happy here at home. I’m not going outside.”

Your parents weren’t oblivious. They knew exactly what was going on. They shared another look, and your mom let out a deep breath, still stroking your hair.

Your dad, sensing he should step in, spoke calmly, saying your name again. He stood and leaned against the table in front of you. “Your mom and I...we know this is a tough time for you.” He glanced at your mom, who nodded, eyes full of tender concern. “We don’t want you feeling trapped.”

His words didn’t quite make sense. It was like he was speaking another language, and as you failed to understand his point, your mom straightened up and explained, “What your dad means is…” You sat up, looking between them both. “If staying here is too hard, we’re open to other options. Maybe somewhere quieter, where people don’t know you.”

You blinked, feeling a spark of surprise and maybe a little hope. Were you hearing this right? “You mean...move?”

A place where no one would judge you, where you could tell people you were pregnant without a second thought?

And they’d do this, just for you?

Your dad nodded, his voice steady and reassuring, his face calm with a soft smile. “If it’d make you feel better. Yes.”

Your mom smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, her face lighting up. She didn’t want to see her daughter feeling trapped. She’d rather you be happy somewhere else than miserable here. “We could find you a place. And even though your dad and I might not be able to leave because of his work, I could come see you whenever you needed, love.”

Watching the warm look they shared, a tangle of emotions filled you. The idea of changing things for something better felt comforting. You knew your parents had their work, friends, and lives here—roots in this town. But even so, they were willing to shift everything if it meant you could have a fresh start.

But then the reality of it hit you. Your dad’s work was here; your mom had built a life in this town. They couldn’t always be there. You’d have to face some things alone.

You pushed that thought aside and looked back at your dad. His face held that unwavering, supportive expression you’d grown up with. “If a new start is what you want, we’ll find a way. It could be short-term or long-term, whatever you need.”

Your mom reached out, holding your hand, her eyes full of encouragement. She only wanted what was best for you. They could find you a home and make sure you had everything you needed. “We want you to know you’re not alone, love. We may have made mistakes at first, but we’re here now, ready to support you however we can. We’ll be right here.”

You nodded, moved by the weight of their support. Your heart felt like it would break from gratitude. You almost wanted to cry right there. You felt like you could hug them forever. Moving to a place where no one knew your life, away from judgment and rumors, felt...right—a fresh start for you and the baby.

But as you imagined this new life, you realized that, even with their support, you’d be walking this road mostly on your own. They wouldn’t always be there. You’d told yourself you could do this alone, but the thought of being without them was still daunting. What if you needed them?

“Thank you… to both of you,” you say, your voice soft but filled with gratitude. There weren’t enough words to fully express your thanks for their decision to stand by your side. “I’ll think about it. I really will…”

Your dad reaches out to take your hand, giving you that reassuring smile. With your mom and dad standing behind you, you feel a strength you haven’t felt in a long time. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you.”

Your mom nods, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “And if you change your mind, we’ll start packing those boxes,” she whispers, giving you a little wink, trying to bring a smile to your face. And for the first time in days, you find yourself truly looking at the future with a real sense of hope. This was real…

[fishnapple]

New friendship, who are they?

I tested out a new set of beads for this reading. It was really fun.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

BLACK

This might be someone who has their North node conjunct your ASC. You will be a breath of fresh air to them, they will want to learn a lot from you, at the same time, feeling a little bit out of their depth and uncomfortable. Your way of acting is completely different from their usual friends and your outlooks are also different from theirs. But they will sense that they can grow with you, you embody the path that they need to take. They're likely younger than you or less experienced than you.

They're a hardworking individual with a serious mindset. I think they can be pretty quiet, timid at times. They think a lot before they talk and consider the consequences of their words. You probably won't have much success in trying to small talking them. They might even seem closed-off, so frivolous chit-chat seems out of the question. But their attitude will change when you approach them with more serious topics, an agenda in mind, maybe you could ask for their help or they could ask for yours, a great excuse to start a conversation. They can be pretty stubborn in defending their viewpoint, so don't poke fun of them.

You're likely to meet them at your workplace or where they are working. They could be providing a certain service to you, frequently, so you begin to talk more to each other. You might casually mention one of your hobbies and you guys would click. And from that point onward, there will be opportunities to expand your social circle, you or them will introduce each other to their circle of shared interests. It will take time to get close to this person, even when both of you have the desire to get to know each other. They hide a lot of their more sensitive and soft side, I think that by being friend with you, they will have a chance to bring out this side more. This group is quite short because there's still a lot for this person to uncover and learn about themselves, they haven't come to their true sense of self yet. This person will look up to you a lot. In turn, they will boost your confidence and make you feel appreciated.

★Possible astrology placements: Aries, Scorpio Sun/ Sun conjunct Pluto, Pluto in 1st house, Moon in Taurus/Moon in 2nd house, Saturn in 3rd house, Mercury in Capricorn, Venus in Pisces, Mars in Cancer

SILVER

I get a strong Sagittarius or Jupiter energy from this new friend. They have a strong yet very graceful character that will inspire you a lot.

This friend will come in when you are about to turn a new page in your life, ready for a new phase. The moment you're about to step out of your comfort zone, the universe will introduce you to them, so that you will have an easier time adapting to changes. They will help you unravel the knot in your psyche. Whatever hangups you are having, they will work with you to address them. They will be stern and blunt about it, there's no getting away. At times, you will feel so triggered by them that you want to quit, to end this connection, but fate will keep you guys together and you will be grateful for their perseverance and faith in this friendship.

The first thing you will notice about them is their voice and the way they talk. They could be a fast talker, animated in their gestures and have a lively, mischievous expression. They are a compelling conversationalist, you won't get bored talking to them, exchanging ideas with them will be a joy, an eye-opening experience. Because they will expand your mind, introduce you to many subjects that before that, you had thought uninteresting, but through them, through their enthusiasm, you will find a new interest for these subjects.

You guys might work together or in the same environment a lot. There's a sense of helping each other, walking together side by side. You probably will travel a lot with them. This will be an equal relationship, there's a balanced give and take between you.

This person could have changed their home a lot. They don't have a very stable ground to rely on. They can have an air of being standoffish, but that's just their independent energy. But they can feel lonely easily. They feel that something about them is different from everyone around them, even their families don't understand them enough.

You might observe that they tend to fight against social standards, what's trending, they hate being a follower, mindlessly doing something just because everyone else is doing it. So they definitely stay away from those famous places with 5 stars reviews on Google. They can also be misunderstood a lot by their friends and the groups they are in, accused of being individualistic. This saddens them, but they won't back down for it. Popularity is not their goal. If you're someone who is struggling with fitting in, being yourself in a group setting, then you can learn a lot from this person. In turn, you will provide a rare sense of recognition for their honest heart.

★Possible astrology placements: Sagittarius, Gemini, Aquarius placements, Jupiter in 7th house, Jupiter in Libra, Pluto in 10th house, Aquarius ASC, Sun/Mars in 11th house, Mars in Aquarius, Sun in Pisces

TEAL

This friend will come into your life during the period when you think everything is moving so slowly, there's barely any progress or anything exciting. They will prove you wrong. You will most likely meet them at work or on the way to work, or at an institution. You could have noticed each other before but didn't really pay attention. It would take an event or a third person to properly introduce you.

It will be a slow start, you won't click immediately, I sense that your temperaments can be different from each other's. You will find them a little mysterious, watchful, they seem to be the type that prefers to stay silent at first to assess the situation and the other person better. You would hear about or sense something spiritual in them. They might have a different religious beliefs or they practice an occult art. They could speak a different language, came from a foreign country or have travelled very far from home. You will be mystified and intrigued, but a little intimidated. There could be a period of time at first when you just silently observe each other without making a move. I think the first person to break the silence will be you and they will breathe a sigh of relief. You seem to be more carefree and at ease with yourself than this person, and seem younger too, even if just in spirit.

You will have many philosophical discussions with this friend. The way they talk is wise and gentle. They have an innate understanding of how things work, they probe for deep meaning and open to myriad kinds of experiences. They could have a very profound effect on your mind, asking you questions that you've never thought of before, but they will not be confrontional about it, they just want to ask the question and leave the pondering and thinking to you, the answer is not as important as the acceptance of the question.

They might have moved their living space a lot or rarely stayed at home. They're a nomad, always on the move. They like to travel, explore, could be with their friends, which they have a lot, or alone, they are fine with both.

You will admire their honest way of expressing themselves, their energy feels pure and straightforward, what they show is what you get. Even though they seem so serene and calm, later you will learn that they have been hurt a lot in the past. They might have a fear about commitment, past relationships failed them, so they can be more cautious in this area. You will bring a lot of joy to them, they will find your way of living refreshing and fun, they will want to learn a thing or two about your hobbies and taking them up. You guys will talk about all kinds of things, share the silliest jokes, being ridiculous with each other without care.

★Possible astrology placements: prominent Sagittarius, Taurus, Aquarius placements, Jupiter in 3rd house, Sun in 9th house, Saturn aspects, Moon in 11th house

BLUE

You might be intimidated by them at first but attracted nevertheless. They will remind you of someone you knew in the past or someone in your family.

This person has a strong and intense aura, they are the type that takes no bs from people and set in their way. They would wear a lot of black and red colour and look good in them. Their style would be bold but minimalist. They don't like to adorn themselves with unnecessary things and prefer a neat style for easy movement and activities. Yes, they will love to move a lot, they are active physically and need lots of mental and physical exercises to release the pent-up energy inside them, which is a lot.

You would meet them in a public place, could be a company building, an institution. Maybe when you're going on a business trip or study abroad, or going to museums, conferences, the lecture hall. You will immediately be impressed by their vibrant aura. They seem so self assured, confident, but oddly enough, they don't seem to be comfortable around a crowd. I wouldn't be surprised if they have encountered some jealousy or backstabbing in the past. The crowd doesn't usually go easy on an individualistic person.

They will complement you perfectly. When you feel nervous, they will be strong and confident for you, when you feel down, they will light up your spirit, when you are confused, they will sit you down and talk some sense into you. And I think you will do that for them too. They are an extremely loyal friend. Fiercely protective of their close ones. Their protection is gentle but firm. They will peer into your core and unearth every secret and dark corner that you have. But they won't use it against you. You will feel seen and understood. Just remember never to betray them or cross their boundaries, they can unleash hell on you. This is the kind of person that you want to be friend with, not make an enemy out of them.

They could have talents with words, with musical instruments, with painting. They have a sensitive artistic soul that can perceive the tiniest beauty and capture it into a lasting existence. Their mind can be whimsical but disciplined. They know how to apply rules and methods to ground an idea.

Jokes and laughter are important to them. They like mental games, various kinds of entertainment. They probably have some interesting hobbies that you will want to learn and explore them yourself. Watching them doing something will be inspirational. You will want to encourage them to show themselves more to the world to see, to shine brighter than they already are.

★Possible astrology placements: Aries, Leo, Scorpio placements, 5th house stellium, Pluto in 7th house, Mars in 1st house, Mars in Aries, Aries ASC, Pisces Venus/ Mercury, Capricorn Mercury

AMBER

This new friend could be your future travel buddy. I see one person is leading another to go on a trip. Travel and learning will be the centre of your connection with this person.

The first thing you will notice about this person is that they have a glibness to them. They could talk fast, walk fast, change subjects mid sentence, rambling on and on. But it will be fascinating to watch and listen to them. They could be younger than you, more playful, less care about the mundane, practical world around them. This person will be a bag of infinite fun to you. With them, you will be more relaxed and enjoy yourself more, you guys would think up mischievous bets and games to entertain each other. I keep seeing the image of two kids having fun everywhere they go.

But don't mistake this for their lack of depth. In fact, they are a lot more mysterious and spiritual than meet the eyes. Their approach to life is carefree but philosophical, they believe that doing good deeds will be rewarded. They believe in serendipity, in life's goodness and abundance, this makes them lucky, it's like a team of spirits is having their back. You would think this person is free of worry. They even think so, too, but they're haunted by dreams and nightmares, their worries and fears lie deep down in their psyche. You have to probe carefully to get a glimpse of that. But they likely won't let you do it, they will dazzle you with stories, with adventures that make you forget the elusive nagging feeling of something is amiss.

They're lucky but they're not lazy. They're actually a very hard worker and you will admire their work ethics. Financial security is very important to them. Sometimes to the point of obsession. They work hard and play hard. There could be an over indulgence of some kind. They can be a spendthrift one moment, then make a completely random purchase (and regret about it later). This person probably like to buy little trinkets or bathroom products (they will gift you a lot of that too). They take good care of their hygiene and are very neat. Their house might be swamped with little things, but they will be well organised and aesthetically pleasing.

You might meet them when you go for a vacation, a trip. I see a large body of water so it could be a lake, a river, the beach, the aquarium.

★Possible astrology placements: Gemini, Libra placements with strong Jupiter and 9th house influence, Mars in Taurus/Mars in 2nd house, Sagittarius ASC, Moon in Sagittarius, Venus in Virgo/Venus in 6th house, Sun in 3rd house

LILAC

You would meet this new friend when you travel back to somewhere you had lived there before or the place where you were born. Also you could meet them through a female figure, likely your mum or your sister, a close female friend. They might introduce you to each other or you will meet this person when you're travelling with that female figure. This could be a surprise encounter for you. You might have travelled to this place often but this will be the first time you see them there. Another scenario is a business trip, but the presence of a female figure will still be there.

This person could have an intimidating reputation. They could be a boss, or in charge of an important position in their workplace. Whatever they do, people notice them easily. They could look a little scary at first sight. Their features are sharp, and they favour a darker style. Fierce and confident. You will probably feel nervous when meeting them for the first time, being subjected to their gaze. You would feel your capability and proficiency are being assessed silently. You might have to work with this person, the connection would be strictly professional at first. They can be strict, demand a lot and don't like to talk about trivial matters. They're probably a person of few words.

But strangely, I don't think you will feel uncomfortable in their presence later, when you're friend with each other. If any, they could even make you feel more confident and more carefree. Even though they prize capability and have a high standard, they are also benevolent and can be quite forgiving. They might only act like this with a few people, those that have passed their assessments. You guys could remind each other of someone close, there's a sense of familiarity, being at ease with each other, as if you've been friends for a long time. This connection could happen suddenly, but it has the potential to remain strong and long-lived.

You might notice that they have some trouble voicing their thoughts. There is a pain hidden deep inside them, and you will feel compassionate for it. Sometimes you could even act as their spokesperson, helping them communicate better. You guys will become the unlikely sanctuary for each other, no matter how much different you look outside.

★Possible astrology placements: Capricorn, Scorpio placements, Mercury in 8th house, Mercury-Saturn aspect, Sun/Mars in 10th house/ in Capricorn, Sagittarius Venus, Mars-Pluto conjunction, Sun-Moon conjunction

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[winterzsurprise]

A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."