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multimilfs · 3 months ago

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Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

#lilia calderu #lilia calderu x reader #agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #lilia calderu fanfiction #lilia calderu imagine #marvel x reader #wlw #wlw imagine #oct2024 #multimilfswritings

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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blurb request for oscar - maybe he gets jealous/possessive and this is the first time you see this side of him

thank you for requesting! and thank you to @scuderiahoney for brainstorming with me since it's partially her fault i am writing oscar again!!🫶🏽

It genuinely didn’t bother him at first. Or at least, not that much.

He had noticed it. He would have been fucking blind to not notice it. In fact, he wasn’t the only one to notice it because Lando had brought it up to him. They had been walking through the paddock, making their way back towards the garage after a press conference when he spotted the two of you in the distance.

“Does it not bother you?” Lando had asked, pausing whatever conversation they had been talking about to nod towards where you were standing.

Truthfully, Oscar didn’t even need to follow his line of sight to know exactly what he was talking about. But he did anyway, maybe because some twisted part of him liked torturing himself that little bit more when he found you deep in conversation with one of the intern engineers—Oscar vaguely remembers his name being Greg or something along the lines.

“No,” Oscar told him, and it was only partially a lie. “She’s just talking to him.”

“They seem close,” Lando noted, glancing towards his teammate with a knowing look.

“I trust her,” Oscar had replied. And he did trust you. He trusted you irrevocably. He trusted you with his life and his heart. But that didn’t mean something deep in his stomach twisted whenever he saw you laughing away with Greg.

“It’s not her I think you should worry about,” Lando muttered under his breath, but they had reached the garage by that point and the conversation never continued.

But despite his trust in you, he didn’t trust Greg—not one single fucking bit.

Because it wasn’t just a passing interaction or a budding friendship. It was starting to creep into something more, something so slow and subtle that maybe other people didn’t notice but Oscar fucking did. He noticed it every single time.

The second he wasn’t by your side, Greg would jump in. The second he had to get in the car or talk to his team, it seemed like Greg had taken it upon himself to keep you company. The second you were in the paddock after not attending a few races, Greg would be greeting you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

Oscar tried to push down the bitter feelings bubbling in his stomach. You didn’t look uncomfortable or bothered by Greg’s company, and the last thing he wanted to do was come off as some controlling, territorial boyfriend who dictated who you spoke to. If anything, it should have been reassuring to him that you were making friends in the paddock to spend time with when he was busy with the team.

He just really wished it wasn’t Greg.

Yet, despite his restraint and promise to himself to keep his mouth shut as long as you were happy, Oscar could only be pushed so far before he snapped.

It was a good race. In fact, it was a great fucking race. After what seemed like a disappointing qualifying that was setting up a shittier race, Oscar hadn’t had high hopes for the weekend. In fact, nobody in the team did—for either car. But it felt like something had just come alive in the car and the second the lights went out, there was a new buzz that had him speeding through the pack.

It wasn’t a podium weekend, which was always a gutting occurrence. But ending the race in P4 was more than enough for Oscar when the team weren’t even sure if he would make it in the points. He was buzzed, he was on a high and he felt like some of the stress of this weekend had been taken off his shoulders.

However, when he made his way back to the garage to celebrate with the team and you, he was confused when he was unable to find you the second he got out of the car. That confusion fizzled into something far more bitter and resentful when he noticed Greg huddled beside you, yapping your ear off as you stood there, nodding and smiling.

He didn’t even realise he was making his way over until he had saddled up beside you, his arm curled around waist like the touch would ease some of the tightness in his chest.

“Sorry, mate, mind if I just steal my girlfriend for a second?” The words had left his mouth, but the usual friendliness was long gone. His words were sharp, blunt even. And he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment as he dragged you away before Greg even had the chance to open his mouth, his body working on pure muscle memory to lead you both to his driver room.

It hadn’t even hit him what he had done until the two of you were finally in the privacy of his driver room, the door locked and the rest of the world shut out.

“Oscar,” you said his name and the tightness in his chest returned.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before you could even say anything more. “I just…he is always there. He is always fucking there and I just wanted you for myself just once. All I could think about since I crossed that line was hugging you and then I got out the car and I just saw him and—”

But his rambles died on his tongue when he caught the way you were staring at him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Oscar questioned, his brows furrowing together. “I just acted like a caveman and you’re smiling.”

“A caveman,” you repeated with a snort, shaking your head before you took a step closer to your boyfriend. “Well, caveman or not, I thought it was kinda hot.”

Oscar blinked. “Huh?”

However, you just shrugged your shoulders. “What? You’re always so calm and collected, it was nice seeing you get a little worked up.”

He watched your expression closely. “So, you’re not mad?”

Your face softened as you reached for the boy, winding your arms around his waist. “I’m not mad, Oscar. If anything, I’m more relieved. He was kinda annoying, like he never shuts up.”

Oscar let out a relieved breath, but his frown remained as he took your face in his hands. “You should have told me if he was bothering you.”

You shrugged again. “It didn’t seem worth the drama,” you admitted. “You should have told me if it upset you.”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a dick,” he confessed with a sheepish expression on his face. He paused for a moment before thinking better of it, pulling you against his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I promise I’ll tell you next time if you tell me too.”

“Deal,” you murmured as you sunk into his embrace. You waited a few moments, expecting the boy to pull away but he never did. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he spoke, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck. “Just…makin’ up for the lost time he stole from me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed innocently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured the boy, smiling a little when you felt a soft peck against your neck. “But I would really appreciate it if you could go shower first. You kinda stink.”

Oscar snorted. “Geez. Thanks.”

You grinned. “C’mon, caveman, the quicker you shower, the quicker I’ll hug you again.”

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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stxrvel · 7 months ago

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injustice (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

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h8ani · 1 year ago

Text

In which a silly thought of teasing Rindou for a month would be fun, but after a simple week he would surely snap and make you remember why you should never play games with him

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: fem!reader, dacryphilia, edging/orgasm control, rough sex, reader is alluded to squirting, mean!rindou, potential dubcon, choking, established relationship, masturbation (male)

Here is my submission for @wakashawty NNN collab! This is my first collab ever and was so so so fun to do!

Something about Rindou is, don’t test him. He isn’t one for jokes and there will be consequences even if it’s meant as a joke.

You thought it would be funny, a comical lil thing to do. If you were smart and had even an ounce of self-preservation, this thought wouldn’t have crossed your mind, the thought being discarded as you went on with your day. But yet here you were. Wanting to participate in No Nut November was supposed to be a little joke, you must’ve taken it too far because now you found yourself bent over the back of the couch, hands pinned behind your back, and being edged for what seems to have been hours. You never meant for it to go this far yet here you are.

Rindou’s thrusts are rough and unrelenting as he fucks up into you, his grip on both of your wrists keeping you in place draped over the couch. The sound of skin slapping skin is all you can hear, constantly ringing in your ears as your pussy continues to take the abuse. You felt the wetness drip down your thighs followed by the sickly squelching sound your pussy started to make, you wince once you felt Rindou’s cock still from within you. Embarrassment wasn’t the word you felt while you were powerless over the couch, you were mortified. Rindou pulls his cock out of you and you feel a quick ‘slap’ against your pussy. His fingers gather up your slick before pushing two of his digits in knuckle deep eliciting a choked out moan from you. Rindou kneels down so he’s eye level with your dripping core now, a proud smirk appearing on his face. “Oh? What’s this? Are you enjoying yourself?” He curls his fingers hitting your gspot perfectly, your legs tremble as he starts finger fucking you. “You’re not meant to enjoy this.” He tsk’s from behind you, fingers slamming against your pussy allowing the wetness to drip down your legs.

You try to twist your wrists free, the feeling of being defenseless was something you weren’t particularly fond of, you hated it really, preferring to hold him close to you and have your hands roam across his body— he knew that of course. He knew everything about you, from the way you loved having your hair played with when you had a long day and were sleepy down to what you loathe, but you weren’t meant to like this; this was a punishment for a stupid idea that was brought to fruition.

You hear him groan suddenly, thrusts slowing down and a sigh slips past your lips as you think it’s all over now.

Oh, you stupid, stupid girl.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He says, voice ever so present in your ears.

Rindou sees you tense up, your body stiffening once you hear him. He has to fight back another groan once you involuntarily clench around him.

Rindou doesn’t particularly care to be like this with you, never a fan of “punishing” you if that’s what this even is. He fucking hates being teased, but you knew this, so why did you even try?

“Babe!” Rindou hears you call, your footsteps heard climbing up the stairs. “Babe! Babe! Babe!” You rush into his room with a smile coming across your face. He raises an eyebrow, curious as to what you were so excited about.

“What?”

“Guess what we’re going to do together this month?” Your smile only gets bigger as you speak to him.

“Thanksgiving?”

“Wha? No! Well yes, but not the answer!” Tired of guessing already, he gives you a bored look and waits for you to continue, hands motioning you to finish what you wanted to tell him. “We’re gonna do No Nut November!”

“Absolutely not,” Rindou says quickly which only leads to the most devious smile you could muster.

“Too bad! If I’m playing then you have to play!” You exclaimed before slipping out of his bedroom before he could interject again. You were serious about playing the game too, he knew you were. What he didn’t know was just how dirty you would play it. He could deal with you purposefully grinding your ass into him at night, that was nothing new to him. What he didn’t expect was the tease of a century of you sending lewd photos of yourself while he was at work.

Once his phone vibrates against his desk he thinks nothing of it when he sees your name pop up with a notification of a text, you always send texts while he’s at work. Clicking in his password he clicks the notification only to slam his phone hard against his desk. The photos sent were of you, in a short mini skirt bent over with no panties on, he could see only from the waist down but he noticed your fingers gathering your own slick, slim fingers prodding your entrance like you were teasing yourself. Rindou picks his phone back up to see multiple photos sent that he couldn’t look away from, another text comes in from you ‘ Wish you were the one touching me:( ’ His face now the shade of a tomato and cock pressing hard against his slacks he stands up abruptly and marches down to the single stall men’s restroom. Fingers lock the door quickly and tug his pants down even faster until he finally fists his cock. A low guttural groan leaving him while he thinks of fucking you in that mini skirt, how he wouldn’t even let you touch yourself one bit and allow him and only him to touch you. He strokes himself faster while his thoughts run rampant, precum leaking past his tip until he spills the rest of his seed all over his hand. Rindou curses internally once he looks down to see the mess, head falling back against the stalls door. Once he got home, your little game was going to be over.

To his surprise, he had more restraint than that. In your eyes that was a green light to keep going, you continued, and continued, and continued to tease him. Until one day, you wore that dress, that one fucking dress. The one that you wore on your birthday that brought back so many memories to his mind, specifically memories of him stripping the dress off of you. The dress you were wearing drove him up the wall. You couldn’t plan to wear that and expect him to keep his composure like he did the past week, you just couldn’t.

He knew that you knew what that dress did to him, how the satin snug around your curves in the most perfect way that he went crazy for. So you coming downstairs acting as if you were going out, that didn’t fly with him.

“Y/n” the tone in his voice was enough to send shivers down your spine, you dared to glance over your shoulder to see him standing up. “Come here.” He says simply. You may like to tease and play games but you knew better than to argue, especially with the way Rindou was looking at you.

You made your way over to him, the only sound that could be heard was of your heels against the floor. Once you made it in front of him, his presence seemed more threatening than it was when you were a few feet away. Slowly looking up at him you’re met with his cool lavender eyes, staring so emotionless back down at you.

“I’m only going to say this once. Bend over, before I bend you over myself.”

You were tired yet you needed more, you needed to cum. Constantly being brought to the edge only to be pulled back was a pain you never knew before.

A gasp escapes from your lips once you feel his arm slip in front of you and press two cold silver ringed fingers to your clit. The pressure is enough to bring you back to a high so quickly and make your legs shake. “Please…” you whimper while pushing your plush hips back into his own. Instantly his fingers still against you, hot wet tears beginning to well up in your eyes. The frustration and growing pain in between your legs reaching a new all time high.

“Please what?” His head tilts to the side although you couldn’t see it.

“Wanna cum, ‘m sorry.” You try to grind down into his fingers to alleviate yourself, you expected this not to work in your favor, what you didn’t expect was for Rindou to let your wrists go that he held, the dead weight of your arms falling forward ached from how long they were pinned behind your back, you rubbed your wrists, moving them around in the process.

You’re pulled up by his strong and steady hands, spun around to face him, suddenly making eye contact with him brought a suffocating tension in the air you didn’t feel when your back was the only thing that faced him. The air around you is so weak and brittle, feeling as if it would snap at any moment if given the chance. Your eyes met his with an alertness as he stared through you, the stress from the situation you put yourself in was evident even to him. His stare was uncomfortable, it was meant to be, making you squirm just from a single look from him. Your breath felt constricted as you finally spoke. “Baby…” you say, eyes stinging and rimmed red. You blink and let the stray tears fall, hand quickly wiping them away as you utter, “Please.”

His face softens, arms dipping and hooking around your legs so you can sit on top of the couch, instinctively you wrap your legs around him. “Tell me, love,” he positions himself at your entrance while he speaks. “What month is it again?”

“November?” You say confused, legs spreading to allow him in further. “Why are you asking? What are you getting at?”

“What was that little thing you wanted to do called again? No Nut what?”

“November…” you glare at him, irritation running high now. You begin to close your legs but his hand that was holding onto your waist stops you, causing you to hold yourself up on the couch now. His grip on your thigh is rough as he pushes your legs open further.

“You wanted this, didn’t you? It’s the name of the game sweetheart.” He smiles, a deep chuckle erupting from him. “You’re not cumming, end of story.” With that he pushes in, burying himself to the hilt. A sob rips out of you once he starts fucking you at a brutal pace, the way he still has any energy to continue, his pace unwavering was unbeknownst to you because you were tired, drained even. He was so deep and it was sending your mind into a frenzy making you dizzy with each thrust, your own body wanting to give out and let Rin take you as he pleases.

Tears rolled down your cheeks with every slam of his hips against yours, Rindou just laughs, grabbing your cheeks with one hand simultaneously squishing them, you muster enough strength to glare with the tears blurring your vision. “Don’t you look cute crying, you mad at me now? ‘s that it?” He angles his hips in a way that has you crying his name out, thrusting upward he hits the spongey spot within you that sends your legs into a spasm. You feel your stomach tightening up for the nth time tonight. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulder as you feel yourself so, so close to your orgasm.

Please, please, please.

You were ruined. Silent sobs were let out as you hooked your ankles together, a desperate move for him to stay inside of you. Rindou watches the way you blink more tears away, the hopeless look you had as you stare up at him, silently begging him to allow you to cum. “You gonna quit it with these games?” He brings his hand to your cheek, thumb wiping away whatever tears that continue to fall. You nod almost before he can finish, a slight peek of hope appearing on your face. “You pro-”

“I promise! P-Please, please I wanna cum, I need to cum Rin.” You shakily blurt, pulling him in even closer, feeling him even deeper than before.

“You pull this shit on me again and I won’t be so nice next time.” He says before slipping a hand in between you two, you feel his fingers press against your clit, moving in quick circular motions.

It should embarrass you how quickly the knot in your stomach tightened up, you should be even more embarrassed with the sounds you were making, how pathetic you sounded, but you didn’t care, all you cared about was your impending orgasm and how it will be the best damn orgasm of your life.

Rindou thrusted up into you roughly, now pulling away his hand which elicited a desperate whine from you which he quickly shut down. He wraps his hand around your throat squeezing ever so slightly, your attention now centered on him. “You cum from my cock, understood?” Nodding as well as you could, his grip tightens around your throat, fingers pressing in just the right spot that makes your head tingle. His pace quickens, thrusts still rough and hitting you just right. You were breathless, eyes glazed over and head spinning from the lack of oxygen, but who needed to breathe when all you wanted to do was cum.

Unperceived to you, you clenched tighter the longer you were without any air in your lungs. Rindou groans while watching you with lidded eyes as he feels himself nearing his nth orgasm of the night, thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic. A strangled gasp leaves you as you suddenly feel the coil inside snap, your body overcome by the pleasure consuming you and the mess you were making. Your body shook against his and Rindou releases his grip on your throat. His hands now hold your waist as he finishes inside of you with a grunt, his hot cum pumping inside you, painting your insides white as he rides out his high.

Your mind was spinning, unsure if it was from the sudden oxygen rushing to your head or from the intense orgasm. You slump against him with an exhausted huff, Rindou runs his hand through your hair as you both calm down, the heavy breaths from you both are the only sound that can be heard.

“Learn anything today?” His voice suddenly heard, barely having any energy you lazily nod, head tilting up from against his chest.

“Yeah, November is for Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving alone.”

@bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network

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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

☀︎︎ || With a long awaited reunion, Jayce finally gathers the courage to do something he should’ve done a long time ago.

C/W || nothing nsfw honestly, just lots of fluff, Reader’s gender isn’t implied here, appearance isn’t descriptive, Jayce is just awkward with feelings.

Word Count || 3,433

Note || I feel I should clarify that my whole driving force behind this was inspired by all the jayvik scenes (however you view them lmao), and the song ‘young and beautiful’. Some other things inspired this but mainly these things.

This is also a first I’m posting a fic about a character from Arcane, or arcane at all honestly so some honest criticism for my writing would be appreciated.

That scream repeated over and over in his mind, again and of course – again. Jayce was becoming tired, worn down. His heart began dulling out the environment around him, causing him to look forward, no baggage weighing in on the astral shoulders of his that bore a weight so greatly, for the reality of the supposed great arcane. He was trapped in it for so long.

Red, all he saw was red painting the calluses of his hands. His hands grabbing desperately onto yours, feeling the warmth, the sensation of that beloved warmth leaving your body.

(All he could do was choke out a cry. Silent in the loudness of the world crashing down around the being of you both.)

Another fabric of time, which would have also been his reality. In which you were enemies, Jayce, he wasn’t sure what side to be on. All he knew was to destroy what was necessary, you otherwise wanted to destroy him. Jayce tried to converse with you, yet his growls fell on deaf ears. He was trying to end things, he really was. His want clashed with yours, the need to end things. Jayce just wanted you to not be in pain anymore, and that look in your eyes, the tense stance, pained breathing punishing sharply in the cavity of your chest – that confirmed it for him.

But what was he becoming this time? (Man, or beast?)

He couldn’t tell.

A remaining constant rang true for him each and every time he was chained down in each memory, stone marble cracking in the face of your memory, he was almost beginning to forget what your face looked like. But that scream, it never left him. Your scream was the constant variable of which he experienced each and every time, and you almost always looked at him in fear.

Jayce hated that, he really hated that so much. Looked upon in unease, the sweat on your palms accumulating, and the trepidation rapidly beating in the confines of your ribcage; that heart of yours about ready to jump out, easily because of him.

On that cobblestone floor, cracked by death and echoes of explosion.

He couldn’t tell if you loved him–maybe as a friend–yet either way it was, once. He probably missed it, only looking past you right at others, Viktor, Mel, or even the face of the Hextech Gemstone. The way you were always so kind to greet him even if he didn’t remain a figure of importance in certain situations, you had always made an effort to include not only him, everyone else as well. You brought people together in a way he seldom noticed. But now that he was trapped in the belly of the beast, he thought about it more often.

Jayce truly realized that you had. (But did he ever deserve it? He was beastly toward you often.)

One step after the other, and he realized harshly–being brought back to the now. Something, or someone was far ahead of him. In this void of darkness, and even the occasion of the beautifully loud rainbow swarms, he had never come across someone real. So he began to rush forward, keeping a vice grip on his hammer.

He choked out a shout, feeling his esophagus sore and weak. His body creaked, bones clicking against each other softly, and every which way he twisted himself — he could hear it. Jayce could clearly feel the way his joints had sanded, slowly creaking under the weight of herculean effort to press forward.

The dull ache pressed in his chest, but he couldn't help the youth that springed him forward for a momentary transition in time.

A voice echoes, so strikingly similar to someone he holds dear. And he wonders if that was really the real deal, but he was easily proven wrong once the being speaks; “You must not fail, Jayce.”

Not Fail.

Must, not fail. The accursed organism had repeatedly told him that same mantra over and over again. He was pushed through the time lapse, and forced to relive the gruesome experience of being a human. The poor decisions made, the hope (and the false).

It was easily his driving force as he made it through the dark glowering of magicks that cursed his downfall, and the others around him. Jayce tried not to open his eyes as the sharp pains followed his limbs, intakes of breathing that punished him with every step he took. Yet it was sudden as he felt a ghostly touch impressed into his upper back, causing him to twitch, swerving his head nearly off the hinges as he looked to see whom the cause of the touch was. The crinkles beneath his eyes expressed clear frustration, as he was tricked once again. Jayce cursed himself mentally as he trudged forward, the onslaught of surprises resuming once again when the light gleamed – jarring as can be for a low fluorescent tone. He recapitulated his position, standing firmly into whatever ground there was irrespective of the pain. Jayce’s hands were worn with exhaustion, each and every ache screaming at him to fall down, rest.

Imaginably he could, but he dared not too. (He couldn’t rest, not again.)

This was his last resort, he was not capable of letting it happen again. He needed to make sure nobody died, he needed to make sure it wasn’t out of bleeding, feeling cold. He knew it far too well, and he was going to make sure he was doing everything in his power to–

Oh wow.

It was painful–painless–for a few moments, leaving him disoriented as he grunted, trying to accumulate to his new surroundings. He wondered where he was now, what would it show him next?

He blinks for a few moments, struggling to stand up as he supports his weight on the hammer. Inevitably cracking his neck, easing himself of the sore pains that riddled his neck and even the rest of his body. His leg was where it had really hurt for the matter, but no reason to worry, he was ready for whatever was gonna come next.

“Jayce?” A gasp escapes his throat, ebbing it raw, his eyes blurring into clearness for the first time. He furrows his brow, attempting to get a clearer look at the source. The man was worn from battle–he tenses, fully rising to his height.

(He heard a voice, and it was yours. Not an illusion, not a past memory. It was really that same cadence that not even the arcane could replicate.)

His throat bobs, churning with a burn that reminds him that he really is here. Where he had first disappeared in the first place, the accursed base of the HexGate facility. Jayce really, really had begun to hate HexTech. His eyes briefly scorn the intricate designs, almost weaved like the stories in tapestries. The stories were wrong, they always had been wrong. He should’ve listened to Heimerdinger, he should've listened to the professor.

What was he doing?

Oh god.

“Is that you?” His eyes flicker back over to the one other person in the room, right in front of him. Jayce attempted—couldn’t—to look you in the eye, it was a difficult thing to do. His brows furrowed, a headache came to the forefront of his pain, and he closed his eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh–he was ashamed.

Killing came so easy to him now, so why is this now any different?

Deciding to test the waters he quietly muttered your name, followed by a gentle greeting; “Hey.” Jayce murmurs, his bottom lip quivered for a moment.

You could see how cracked his lips were, and it made you almost worry for him. Of course, you should be. But you didn’t want to rush him, the way he had carried himself, you could see he was still far too tense and on edge. Both of you were thinking the same, worried about the other, still wanting to embrace each other–even so used to the touches of danger. It was in consideration, that made it all too painfully slow in this reunion. You nodded your head, taking a step forward.

“You’ve been gone quite awhile,” You verbalized with a tilt of your head, gesturing about the length of his absence. “I was… worried.” He gave pause to your comment, a slight widening of his eyes as he lifted his gaze, albeit shortly enough to reach your torso. You looked different from what he remembered, just right there was enough to make him realize the passage of time.

“How–I, how long have I been gone?” He internally winced at the way his voice sounded, his throat felt so sore. Jayce wasn’t sure himself, he felt it best to ask you. He understood that time had passed extensively, not how much for the matter, he felt it passing entirely differently during his time within the core of the arcane–whatever its physical being is. Something entirely reminiscent of a curse. He despised it so much for leaving you and the others without warning. But yet again, he hadn’t taken a step back to think about his words and actions, and how easily he could hurt others. Jayce knew better than that now, atleast.

He could almost feel the hesitation radiating off of you, as if answering would be the end of all things. Jayce heaved a mournful breath, letting his eyes close.

(Maybe it would, he wasn’t sure. Jayce didn’t want you to be afraid of him, is all.)

The room was cold, cold as the winter storm of the day he crossed paths with the arcane, he had almost forgotten that. Yet it was useless when he felt the warmth of something inexplicable touching his cheek, leathery he must feel. Jayce felt the way his skin hardened, the way his body tenses when he’s touched. But–that wasn’t the case here, no.

A small gentle pad of the thumb swiped over the area, leaving him to open his eyes – inextricably locking gazes. Jayce was left surprised, almost recoiling for a split-moment. You kept a firm hold, your gaze all but gentle. Which was the last thing he expected, he searched any inch of your expression, and not once did your eyes falter in that interval of time. Jayce was tempted to stray away from your touch, every nerve in his being telling him to do so. However, it was something else that let him stay in the same position. That same stance, and he was unable to run away from it.

Jayce grimaced, holding his head. Another episode, what he’s seen. Far too much of it, you concluded.

He could see flashes of something unholy, far too close to the sun, or perhaps far too close to the moon. Jayce could see the debilitating deflections of creatures, something supernatural, the coarseness of rainbows. It was the way his lungs squeezed upon itself, twisting in a macabre manner of gestations that left him breathless for a meager few moments. You simply held him through it, and gently murmured, drawing his attention to you once more. Whatever he saw, it was the countless hours of death, it was inescapable. Blurry had it appeared to be once over, as he never wanted to recall the things he experienced. The last thing that had never been blocked out were those memories of you, dying over and over again, especially by his hands. It was in repetition that he blacked out so many times over, constantly finding himself in new arenas. Having to raise his hammer against someone else, seeing their blood splatter against the coldstone of the ground. Jayce wasn’t sure how he hadn’t–broken.

It always felt far too real to him, he was sure it had. The heavy heart that corones his emotions, the way he acts. Probably in that alone that he had caused the deaths of so many innocents so many times, even for a different fabric in the space-fold of time, it still happened. Jayce didn’t want that to happen to you–not again–to anyone else.

With the impossible decisions, and the road he had walked so far. There was nothing short of a future, or a dream for him anymore. He had to fight, even if that meant physically. Jayce knew there was something different in this life of his, he just wished this wasn’t the truth of it. He grieved it even, but he couldn’t truly be given time to process that. Life does not slow down for anyone, not even you, and not even him. One is only human after all, and you sure as hell make the most of it, the best you can, even if people may hate you for the smallest thing. It is innately the most human thing that truly makes each and every person kind, despite their supposed repugnant nature that makes mankind so infamous.

“Jayce,” You murmured, a tone so soft, he didn’t deserve it. “Can you please look at me?” Almost to your whims, he felt so commanded. A rarity in such matters, that he didn’t mind it. Such a simple action, and it seemed so difficult though. But he tried, and succeeded.

For the second time now, he locked eyes with you. His gaze was colored by bashfulness, leaving you to laugh. A tender touch, revering the inches of encroaching warmth that crawled back into his skin bit by bit. You breathed a puff of air, noting the cold atmosphere.

‘He must’ve been cold before he came back out.’ You scrutinized the details for a moment, and considered how much time he spent. How long he went without proper warmth, the lack of temperature. Whatever or whomever it may have been that was his captor, you were glad he was finally freed for good, hopefully. You just were relieved that you could finally just see him, and know that he’s truly there (instead of just a delusion). Even if he appeared differently, he was still here.

“I really did miss you.” You mentioned, seeing the flicker of surprise, surmising the life that brought back the color in his eyes. Less dull now, and far more colorful within the beautiful amber–almost had you wishing you could stay trapped in it forever. Not forever maybe, that would mean you’d never be face to face with him directly, like now, where you stood stronger than ever. As you were more than willing to be a pillar of support for the broken man, who you guess appeared to see so much, it nearly broke his mind. For the brief moment of pause, you could see his jaw tighten, as if he was contemplating something, but wary to air out the thought.

He held the expectation that you would’ve been more fearful of him. Or at the very least angry, god knows he fully deserves that.

Your brows tighten, almost wincing at the knot in your forehead. You’ve done that especially way too much lately, even since Jayce’s sudden disappearance. It was a question of your own, nothing short of anger, all it really was confusion.

Jayce seemed to notice this, drawing you out of your short-lived predicament; “You… alright?” He muttered, somewhat hesitant to draw his hand over yours. He didn’t see himself deserving enough for that yet, not until he knew that it was by all rights okay with you. Only then you nodded to reassure him, biting the inside of your cheek as the moment passed.

Finally garnering the courage to the breadth of your chest, “How… or why have you been gone so long?” Jayce simply looks at you with a half-unreadable expression, as if he had expected this question. One way or another, he was always going to be faced with such a question. After all, he had been trapped inside the palace of the arcane, a presumably long life-time of experiences; enough to age him noticeably.

“I'll explain it,” He paused, a waver in his tone. “In time.” Jayce’s reluctance was more than easy to notice, so you nodded, not fully satisfied with the answer. But you had to wait for answers another time, there were reasonably far more important things to deal with right now. Whatever that may be considered.

So you opted for a hug (entirely and completely out of the blue).

The affectionate gesture, which could mean many things, surprised him. He didn’t count for this happening—it made his knees buckle, the weight hounding you to fall with him. Even with the vice grip he previously held on the handle. He let go of his hammer, wanting and using both arms to just utterly hug you back with the whole of his heart, and he was fulfilled. Nose buried in the crook of your neck, it was filled with your scent. Your own hold on him didn’t vacillate at all–which in retrospect–it gave way to a level of solace he never felt before.

He tightened his hold on you, a silent way of giving thanks, if nothing else. You were glad, happy even that he accepted your inhibited sudden gesture.

You leaned back, slowly but surely, just to check that Jayce wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a failure however [as good as you were at reading expressions], there was naught a hint of it at all. You tilted your head, eliciting a soft laugh from the man.

‘Mission successful!’

His soft laughter elicited a pavlovian response from you, leaving you to move your hands, cradling his face with both hands once again. Anything and everything seemed to fall short around you, for the long while you began to realize, lord you were far from attached to the thought however. His brows furrowed with a small grin, still finding it somewhat amusing with your subtle acts of nature. In spite of what preceded, the decedent time of passing made him begin to freeze.

Color began creeping up against the patches of his skin that crawled from the beginning of his mandible, nape of the neck, and now up to the cheek bones. Expression faltering. (“Hey, uh…”) He tried to muster, but despite that, it fell on deaf ears. Your gaze made him hot, and he was always on the fence on whether or not how he should react. Jayce wasn’t sure how to handle it really, cause you look at him as if he was all that was there in the room. The spark of motivation behind your learning, or even the nights and transitions of time where you listen to him talk about what makes him so inspired. Of course, he always made the effort to do the same, but it had made him wonder if you felt so similarly.

Yet, when he allowed his overthinking to fester, never bringing it up, he was afraid and just simply decided to not ask about it at all. Jayce was always a bit afraid about these things, but with what he's been through, he fears this may be the first and last time he’s allowed to see you.

With that being his driving force, how his heart raced, it gave him a burst of confidence. Jayce lowered his left hand to your hip, the other to holding your face. His eyes were soft, brows raised as if he were asking. It was first and foremost, but his heart continued to beat right up against the cavity of his chest.

There was a flicker of astonishment gleaming in your eyes, but it slowly disappeared, as if you ascertained what he was wanting, and frankly you found it sweet that he had asked for your permission. Nonetheless, you were more than delighted to oblige with his request.

Warmth blossomed exuberant in his chest, as if fireworks were being set off. The sensation it ignited in him was soulful. A first tentative brush, then a second time, more sure than ever now. Jayce’s breathing almost labored when he pulled back, and he could figure the same for you. In a way, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders by such a simple act of love. Even with the moments passing, the two of you leaned against one another, relishing in the feeling that heightened your tension.

Though it did wear off quickly enough.

Jayce watched with patience of a thousand men as you leaned back, re-adjusting yourself as you spoke. And wasn’t it ever the truth.

“If you’ve done that earlier, then i probably wouldn’t even be here right now.” You remarked, causing him to laugh quietly.

(No shit.)

He should’ve done this sooner.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x gender neutral reader #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce x reader

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solxamber · 1 month ago

Note

On my hands and knees sobbing throwing up combusting into dust signs my soul away to you THAT WAS SO SO SOOOOO CUTEEEEEE GUAYAYYAYYUUUUUAUAGAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! Poor Rollo thinks hes just being nice meanwhile poor yuu is so used to people digging underneath the bar that he's literally prince charming incarnate. Rollo clearly needs to adjust their standards and do what the villains could not by kissing yuu softly while they take a nap. And also threaten crowley to give them money for food. ANYWAYS!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FEEDING ME AND THE 5 OTHER ROLLO FANS THAT SURVIVED THE FAMINE (/j) I OWE YOU MY LIFE!!!!! This message is getting so long, but you deserve to know how awesome your writing is and that I look forward to whatever you post for real. I slide over a crisp 5 maddol and ask for when you feel like it (and if you even want to ofc!!) A part 3 where maybe they're deeper in the relationship and are doing heinous things like m*king out and grimm thinks they should be executed for making him walk into this horror. (He didn't knock. Bc he's grimm. He claimed to be scarred for life until Rollo busted out the premium tuna suddenly we should get married asap) . ANYWAYS SORRY FOR THE LONG RAMBLE. IM BARKING AND CRYING AND EXPLODING AND PROPOSING TO YOU. Signed with love, rollo anon 💗💝💖

Rollo Flamme x reader

i just saw this and this almost made me cry 🫶 also sorry for the very long wait

Part 1 ; Part 2

Rollo was nothing if not diligent. Whether it was reorganizing the shelves at the library, fixing the perpetually squeaky door in Ramshackle, or chastising Grim for yet another snack-induced fire hazard, he was always helping in his quietly intense way. It wasn’t just duty—he genuinely seemed to enjoy making your life easier, which both baffled and warmed you to your core.

You, of course, did what you could to return the favor. Helping him clean up after unruly magic festival events, proofreading his endless notes about anti-magic policies, and gently reminding him to relax when he got that telltale furrow in his brow.

And you were in love.

Like, grossly in love. The kind of love where you found his huffy rants about magical irresponsibility charming and he tolerated Grim's chaos just to spend more time with you. It was a weird, wonderful balance you’d somehow managed to strike.

Which led to this particular evening: you and Rollo, tangled on the old, creaky couch in your room at Ramshackle.

It had started innocently enough. You’d been reviewing a new book he'd brought for you—something philosophical, of course, but he’d chosen it specifically because he thought you’d enjoy it. You were teasing him about his insistence on leaving a handwritten note inside the front cover (“Who even does this, Rollo? It’s adorable, but—seriously?”), and he had flushed in that way that made you want to pinch his cheeks.

Then one thing led to another.

Now, his lips were on yours, one hand cradling your face with the kind of reverence that made your heart twist. His other arm was around your waist, anchoring you against him. Rollo might not have been an experienced romantic, but he made up for it in sheer, focused intensity. When he kissed you, it felt like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“You’re—mmph—very distracting,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and tinged with amusement.

You grinned, tugging him closer. “Says the guy who started this.”

His only response was to kiss you again, deeper this time, until your brain was reduced to a pleasant, fizzy blur. The world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just you, him, and the creak of the couch as you shifted closer—

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY?! MY EYES! THEY’RE RUINED!”

Grim’s shrill scream shattered the moment like glass.

You froze, pulling back to see Grim standing in the doorway, paws dramatically covering his eyes. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? ON MY COUCH?”

“Grim, it’s my couch,” you said, face burning.

“You’re the henchhuman; it’s ours by default!” Grim wailed. “And now it’s a place of SIN!”

Rollo, to his credit, had already straightened up, his expression transitioning from flustered to composed in record time. “Grim,” he said, voice calm yet firm, “surely you’ve barged in enough times to anticipate that privacy should be respected.”

“Oh, I respected it,” Grim sniffed. “But my henchhuman clearly has no shame. And you!” He pointed an accusatory paw at Rollo. “I thought you were better than this! But no, you’re—”

Rollo, completely unbothered by the tirade, reached into his bag and produced a can of… premium tuna?

Grim’s rant ground to a halt. His ears perked up as he sniffed the air. “Wait. Is that—?”

“Indeed,” Rollo said smoothly, holding it up like a peace offering. “A gift I intended to give later, but it seems circumstances call for a different approach.”

Grim’s eyes lit up with unrestrained glee. “You know what? I’ve never doubted you for a second, Rollo!” He scurried forward, practically salivating as he swiped the can. “You’re clearly the best thing that’s ever happened to my henchhuman. You two should get married. Tomorrow. I’ll get a priest. I’m sure Crowley owes me a favor.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as Grim popped the can open with zero regard for decorum. “Grim, you are the worst.”

“Correction: I’m the best,” Grim said, already devouring the tuna with gusto. Between bites, he added, “This guy’s a keeper. Don’t mess it up, henchhuman.”

Rollo’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise composed demeanor. He leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “Shall we take his advice?”

You gave him a playful shove, laughing despite yourself. “Not helping, Rollo.”

But deep down, as Grim devoured his bribe and Rollo sat beside you with that quietly pleased look, you couldn’t deny that the idea didn’t sound all that bad.

The exhaustion of the day had finally caught up to you, and you’d collapsed onto your bed with a sigh of relief. “Wake me up for class, okay?” you mumbled to Rollo, who was sitting at your desk, meticulously organizing the scattered notes you’d left behind.

“I’ll make sure you’re on time,” he replied, his voice carrying that steady assurance you found oddly comforting.

You barely managed a hum of acknowledgment before sleep claimed you, leaving the world behind in a haze of warm, peaceful quiet.

When you stirred again, it wasn’t the sound of your alarm or the creak of the floorboards that woke you. It was something far gentler.

A warm, featherlight pressure on your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, and the first thing you saw was Rollo leaning over you, his expression soft in a way that made your heart do an Olympic-level somersault. He was close enough that you could see the slight flush on his cheeks, though his composure never wavered.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur. “It’s time to get ready for class.”

You blinked at him, your still-sleepy brain struggling to process what had just happened. “Did you… just kiss me awake?”

His blush deepened, but he stood his ground, meeting your gaze with quiet confidence. “You looked so peaceful. I thought it would be a more pleasant way to wake you than simply shaking your shoulder.”

Your heart melted on the spot. If there was a scale for romantic gestures, this one had just broken it.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, though your voice betrayed how utterly smitten you were.

“Perhaps,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But you didn’t seem to mind.”

You didn’t bother arguing because he was absolutely right. Instead, you reached out, tugging him down for a proper kiss this time.

When you finally pulled away, you smirked at his flustered expression. “If you keep this up, I’m going to start napping more often.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “If that’s the case, I’ll have to be even more diligent about ensuring you don’t oversleep.”

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest as you sat up and stretched. “Thanks for waking me, Rollo. Really.”

“Of course,” he said, his tone earnest as ever. “It’s the least I can do.”

The man was going to ruin you with how thoughtful he was. And as you got ready for class with a lingering smile on your face, you couldn’t help but think that waking up like this every day wouldn’t be so bad.

It started with something simple. You were both sitting in the courtyard of the chapel, enjoying a quiet moment together. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything, and Rollo was, as usual, the picture of composure. He was reading a book—some historical text you’d never have the patience for—but his attention drifted when he noticed you staring at the horizon, lost in thought.

“Are you cold?” he asked, setting his book aside and leaning slightly closer.

You blinked out of your reverie, shaking your head with a soft smile. “No, I’m fine.”

He studied you for a moment, then pulled his scarf from around his neck and gently draped it over your shoulders anyway. “Just in case,” he murmured.

It wasn’t anything extraordinary—just a scarf—but the gesture made your heart swell. The scarf smelled faintly of lavender, and the warmth of it felt like an extension of Rollo himself.

“Thanks, Rollo,” you said, voice soft.

He nodded, but when he saw the way your smile lingered, something shifted in his expression. His usual composed demeanor softened into something… almost reverent.

“You deserve this,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically tender.

“Huh?” You tilted your head at him, confused.

“You deserve to be cared for,” he clarified, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “You give so much of yourself to others. It’s only natural that someone should do the same for you.”

You stared at him, heart racing. “Rollo, I… That’s really sweet.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, though not at you. “It’s concerning that such basic decency stands out to you,” he muttered, almost to himself. “What kind of environment is this school fostering?”

The thought of Rollo, grimacing at the thought of NRC’s questionable population, made you burst into laughter. “I mean, you’ve met Grim, right? The standards here are subterranean.”

Rollo’s expression softened again when he saw how amused you were. “Even so,” he said, taking your hands in his with surprising gentleness, “you should never feel as though you’re asking for too much when you expect kindness or respect. It’s what you’re owed.”

Your heart did a little somersault, and you couldn’t help but giggle, ridiculously touched. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry,” you teased, though the slight quiver in your voice betrayed how close you were to actually tearing up.

He smiled faintly, leaning closer until his forehead nearly touched yours. “If you cry, I’ll simply have to dry your tears,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “Though I’d rather see you smiling.”

You let out another helpless laugh, pulling your hands free so you could lightly swat at his arm. “Stop being so romantic! I can’t handle this!”

Rollo chuckled softly, pleased with your reaction. “If it makes you happy, then I’ll consider it a worthwhile effort.”

And he meant it. He was genuinely, utterly content to see you so touched, so happy. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, a quiet but fierce determination grew. The villains and miscreants of NRC may not have treated you with the respect you deserved, but he would make it his mission to ensure you never doubted your worth again.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst rollo x reader #rollo x reader #rollo x you #rollo flamme #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamme x you #rollo

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fazedlight · 22 days ago

Text

Limbo (Lena & Alex, when Kara is in the Phantom Zone)

She thought she had been alone in the Tower.

She knew she had had too much to drink. But it hadn’t mattered - she’d be sober by the time the team returned to the Tower tomorrow afternoon, to try yet again to devise a way to find Kara and bring her home. A mission that seemed increasingly hopeless…

All she wanted to do was drown and numb her fears for a night, but she didn’t anticipate Alex coming back. “Brought you Belly Burger,” the former agent said.

Lena tried to keep the exasperation and drunkenness out of her voice. But, frankly, Alex’s actions didn’t make a lot of sense. “You should hate me,” Lena muttered.

Alex shrugged. “I kind of do.”

“Then why are you bringing me food?”

“Because we’re going to get Kara back,” Alex said matter-of-factly, “And she’d kick my ass if I didn’t look after you in the meantime.”

Lena let her eyes raise up to Alex’s face - noting the stress in every line, the grim determination staring back at her. Somewhere in Lena’s grief and anger, she felt a flare of jealousy. You have someone to go home to, she thought.

Slowly, she reached for the bag of food.

---

Their attempt the next day failed. Lena thought she was safe getting drunk at home.

But Alex, annoyingly, showed up at her door, carrying containers of Chinese food. This is embarrassing, Lena thought, letting her in, watching as she unpacked the food in the kitchen. “Why are you really here?”

Alex grinned to herself, pausing to pull another takeout box before she answered. “Kelly is making me.”

It drew a laugh from Lena. As much as Alex might be noble about what Kara would’ve wanted, her second answer made far more sense.

Lena took out her scotch, pouring the two a drink. She wondered for a moment if Alex might push back - Lena was drunk enough as it was - but it seemed Alex was smart enough to let it go. So they ate their food and sipped their alcohol in relative silence.

Neither could touch the potstickers.

Her mind flit between mental images of the blonde - smiling, or weeping, or with her arm thrown comfortably around Lena’s shoulder. It brought back the twisting pain, aching for Kara to really be there, for this to be a game night or a movie night rather than a solemn mourning between her and Kara’s sister.

Lena glanced up, taking Alex in again. Her mind wandered to the incident in the Fortress - words that made her realize that she didn’t understand everything when it came to Kara’s identity.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alex asked.

“You didn’t tell Kelly,” Lena said, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t know.”

Alex frowned, leaning forward to grab another box. “Turns out Kelly had figured it out before I told her. I don’t know which of you knew first.”

Lena felt her jaw tense, though she tried to relax it again, taking a centering breath. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

Alex shrugged. “The fewer people that knew, the better.”

---

This time, it was on purpose. Lena invited both Kelly and Alex over, and remained decidedly undrunk for the evening.

Kelly arrived first, after work, noting that Alex would be there soon with the Indian takeout that they had ordered. “Sorry I keep stealing your wife in the evenings,” Lena said.

“I think she needs this as much as you do,” Kelly replied honestly, “It’s hard, not having Kara here.”

Lena laughed sardonically, feeling the craving of the liquor in her cabinet. Kara would be here if I weren’t.

“Lena?” Kelly nudged.

It was in Lena’s nature to bury things seven layers deep. It was in her nature to hide, and lick her wounds, and keep her thoughts to herself until they were needed.

But something about Kelly’s gentleness - and knowing that Kelly hadn’t been invited to the party either, so to speak - was somehow disarming. “If Alex had killed me at Mount Norquay,” Lena said, struggling to hide her overwhelming guilt, “We wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Kelly shook her head. “She didn’t want to kill you.”

“She should’ve,” Lena scoffed, feeling the self-hatred bubble within her. For all that she blamed the superfriends for so much, she could only feel guilt for this. “I was trying to brainwash the world. It was the greater good.” I wasn’t worth saving.

Kelly reached over, giving Lena’s hand a tight squeeze. “It would have killed you. It would’ve destroyed her. It would’ve destroyed Kara, too.”

Lena bit at her lip, fighting the tears that were starting to threaten her vision. I don’t want to feel this, she thought, thinking again to the liquor in her cabinet.

But she remained seated, breathing in slow breaths as she regained her composure, Kelly sitting patiently next to her. Kelly’s warm hand was still on her own. Somewhere, the thought bubbled up: While she didn’t have Kara back… she was starting to realize she wasn’t alone.

A knock came at the door, and Kelly gave Lena’s hand one last squeeze, before rising up to let Alex in.

---

Alex came alone the next night. Lena only poured them each one drink.

Truth be told, she thought she’d need more liquor to ask the question that had been itching at her mind for months. But it was surprisingly easy that night - in a time when she could no longer summon the biting betrayal that had once consumed her. “When we were working on the harun-el together,” Lena asked quietly, not sure if she actually cared about the answer, “Why did you act so suspicious of Supergirl? Was it just to gain my trust?”

Alex turned to her with wide eyes, before leaning back into the seat. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I never thought- I didn’t think-” Alex turned again to Lena, her eyes darting around Lena’s face with a twisted sadness. “Colonel Haley was trying to find out who Kara was,” Alex said, “So I had J’onn erase my memory, to keep her out of danger.”

Lena’s eyes widened. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know.”

---

Sometimes, there was laughter - sometimes, there were the lopsided grins and the aggravating disbelief of how the blonde held the secret all these years.

“I miss this,” Alex said, “I miss her. Without the superhero stuff.”

“Without the superhero stuff?” Lena asked.

“Just her,” Alex said, “So few people know her as just her.”

Alex’s words tugged at Lena’s heart. Just her, Lena mulled. What had the kryptonian said on Pulitzer night? “But you still loved Kara. I just kept thinking, if I could be Kara, just Kara…”

Where once she had assumed she knew only the mask, she was slowly realizing that perhaps it was the other way around. “I tried so hard to stay away from her,” Lena murmured.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“Supergirl,” Lena explained, “I didn’t want to be my brother. I wanted to show her that we could work together without me trying to find out anything about her. That I knew her identity wasn’t my business…”

Alex sighed. “You didn’t know you were getting close to her anyway.”

“I was trying to do everything right,” Lena said quietly, “And then…”

“And then?” Alex asked softly, though she already knew the answer.

“And then I fell in love with her,” Lena confessed.

---

The Tower was abuzz that morning as everyone made their final preparations. Gone were the thoughts of the simple mission to transport Kara back in moments. This would be a voyage - into the phantom zone, facing nightmares unknown, hours in a fight to get Kara back.

Hope bloomed in Lena’s chest, watching as the team ran through checklists, making final preparations. This is really happening, Lena thought, this is our chance.

She wasn’t alone. “We’re going to see her today,” Alex affirmed, “I can feel it.”

Lena swallowed, feeling the tinge of nerves in her excitement - both for what lay ahead, and for what Alex knew. “Are you going to tell her?” Lena asked quietly, “What I said?”

Alex shook her head. “That’s your secret. When you’re ready.”

Lena smiled softly. “You think I should tell her.”

“Yup,” Alex agreed, “But I know you guys have a lot of other shit to work out first.”

Lena let out a small breath, glancing over to the station that she would take for the flight, turning back to Alex. A warm hand landed on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “C’mon,” Alex said, stepping towards the mainroom, “Let’s get my sister back.”

Lena smiled. “Right behind you.”

#alex danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #mel writes ficlets

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strangelysamantha · 2 months ago

Text

leverage ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

warnings: kidnapping, violence, mention of drugs, swearing, rude comments, guns, abuse, threats.

summary: when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

a/n: thought about this randomly haha. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and comment! :) requests are open and even if you don’t have a request, you can always ask a question or tell a funny joke instead. <3

master list is pinned.

——————————————————————————

“if you don’t give me the money, your ass is gonna be sorry.” barry stared at rafe while he ran his hands through his hair. “i promise. i’ll get you the money, man. i just need some time.” barry laughs, “you better or this won’t be pretty.” barry hesitated before continuing, “and, i mean you don’t have a lot of time. i'd say a week max.” rafe nodded, understanding. “alright. i’ll get it, don’t worry.” barry laughs, “i’m not worried, trust me on that.” he smirked before walking inside his trailer. rafe hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away. his mind running as he thought of ways to come up with twenty grand. he only had a week, and he was definitely stressing out.

rafe didn’t inform you about his entanglement with barry. perhaps if he had brought it up, you wouldn’t be where you were currently. you were working, just going on about your day. a customer had asked you to walk them to your car. it was an elderly woman; you couldn’t deny her some assistance. you smile, “of course! which car is yours?” you asked, heading towards the parking lot.

in retrospect you should have concluded how abnormal it was for an elderly woman to have parked so far away in such a dark car. she laughed once you approached the car, and that was when a rock was smashed against your skull. then a sack was thrown over your head. rope contained your hands, forcing them against your back, burning from the fiction of the rope rubbing together.

you stopped fighting, realizing it was useless, and whoever was kidnapping you would only become more agitated and aggressive. you were pushed into what felt like a backseat, a needle inserted into your arm, making you unconscious.

the next time you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. it’s dark, and humid. you try and lift your arms but realize they were still held together firmly, with rope behind your back. as well as your wrists, your ankles were tied together too. you tried to speak, and surprisingly your voice, despite being hoarse, was able to make noise. “hello?” you called out.

barry walks in, a gun in his hand. “oh wakey wakey sunshine.” your face twists with confusion

. “i- what? why? why am i tied up? what’s going on?” you bombard him with questions he never answers. “that boyfriend of yours… he’s not going to be so happy now, is he? he’s short, 20 grant short, and because he can’t pay me, i’m gonna take the next valuable thing he has. that’s you.” you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. you didn’t want to freak out and spiral. “he’s not my boyfriend. i mean what the fuck barry?” you stared up at him. “oh, oh shit. you actually aren’t rafe's girlfriend?” you roll your eyes. “no. he doesnt want to date me.” you frown at your own confession. barry looks at you with sympathy. it didn’t last though, now he was overwhelmed because the leverage he thought he had wasn’t even leverage. “shit… man.”

rafe on the other hand, was terrified. while rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, he definitely liked you the most out of all of his friends. he concluded that he loves you, but he’s been too scared to make any moves. that wasn’t what terrified him though, what was currently nagging at rafe was the fact that you hadn’t met with him. the two of you had a daily schedule that included you stopping by his house after work.

with you not stopping by his house, on top of you not answering his texts. he began to feel worried. rafe's phone dinged indicating he got a message, and he practically sprinted to the phone. he saw a message from barry, it was a video. he hesitated before opening it. his eyes widened in horror as the video he was watching was of you. a gun pressed against your temple while you were tied up in a chair.

he tightened his grip around his phone, his jaw clenched, and chest heavy. he examines the video playing in front of him, inspecting it to see if he recognizes the background. rafe’s heart hurts as he has to rewatch you fear for your life due to his mistakes. he unfortunately didn't recognize the background.

he didn’t have time to play games, he immediately responded to barry. he shot back a text, asking why the fuck he had you, and where he was. barry immediately responded, do you have the money? rafe groaned, his hands on his head as he paced around his living room. his heart was stinging at the thought of the situation he had put you in. he should have saw this coming, should have noticed that you were the thing barry could ruin.

you stared at barry, tears welling in your eyes. he frowned at your condition, "poor girl, i'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but i'm not letting rafe get away with robbing me." you gasp for air, "please don't kill me." he sighed, bending down in front of your chair, he moved your hair out of your face. "i'm not going to hurt you sweetheart. i know its dramatic, but you won't be harmed," he smirks to himself, "how about you help me?" your face contorts into confusion, "how?" you look away. "how much does rafe care about you?" you sigh, unsure of how to respond. "tell me or there will be issues. i said i wouldn't kill you, but that's only if you cooperate with me."

"he said before that he loves me, he wants us to date, but when i asked him, he told me he had bigger stuff on his plate. he wouldn't have time for me. after that, it became weird..." your voice trails off, he hums in response. "i see, so he loves you, but he's worried he'll corrupt you." you nod slightly. "you're the only girl in his life, yeah?" you shrug, "yeah, but even then, he won't date me." this causes a smirk to hang on barry's lips. "what if we got back at him? he dragged you along, and he stole my money. what if we worked together?" the thought of backstabbing rafe made you nauseous. barry could tell you were reluctant. "do it or i will make sure he'll never be able to find you again, you'll be deep in the ocean with no chance of being discovered." his words terrified you, "okay, okay. just tell me what to do." he hands you your phone. "you're gonna call him. tell him you're okay. say that i let you go, out of the kindness of my heart." you nod sheepishly. dialing his number, rafe immediately picks up.

"are you okay? what's going on?" you sigh, "i'm okay, he let me go." your words shock rafe, he's silent. "i don't know, he just let me go out of the kindness of his heart. i'm okay." he's relieved, but he's aware that he still had a lot of cash he needed before he could make it right. "can we meet?" he asks. you look up at barry and he shakes his head no. "uh maybe in a bit. i'm a little shaken up. i want to shower and have some time y'know?" you explain. "i understand, just call me whenever you're ready, okay?" you smile softly, "of course, goodbye." you hang up, barry claps. "very good performance, i even believed it."

"what's your plan?" he grins happy you asked. "you're gonna be my girlfriend. you're gonna stay here with me, help me bag up the drugs, count cash, and when rafe decides to return the money, he'll see you here with me. we will kiss or whatever, and you're going to tell him that you saw the good in me. that you fell so hard at my words. rafe will realize he waited too long." while the idea of this was supposed to upset you, the thought of rafe seeing what he was missing out on, gave you a sort of edge. you thought that maybe you can come out of this with rafe announcing his love for you. "okay. will you drive me to mine? i want to change out of my greasy work clothes." he grins grabbing his keys, "of course baby." you narrowed your eyes at him, "just because were pretending to date doesn't mean you have to call me cute names." he chuckles, "we need to practice that way its convincing."

you sigh realizing how deep of a mess you were actually in. it made you feel better knowing that you weren't actually trying to do anything. you had to do this, barry had put your life on the line. if you didn't obey his every order, you could find yourself tied back up in a chair. "okay. how will we make this convincing?" he chuckles, "itll be easy. we're gonna get you cleaned up, then i'm going to have rafe meet me here. he'll see you working for me and man he'll get so angry."

you nod, and he unties you from the chair. he leads you to his motorcycle, speeding off to your house. upon arrival, he allows you to go inside to change. “i’m coming with. no time for any games.” you scoff but head inside. he follows you to your room, you hop into the shower. barry looks around your room. seeing your decor, jewelry; and photos of you and friends. he quirks a small smile, barry was very impressed by himself. he figured this was probably his best idea yet. once out of the shower you change into shorts and a shirt. you hesitate when you saw your reflection in the mirror. you were terrified of what might happen.

“so, we need to wait a few days, make it seem like it has time to naturally develop, yknow?” you nod, “yeah that makes sense.” he holds his hand out. “i’m gonna need your phone.” you roll your eyes, “why?” he tsks, coming into your personal space. “because i don’t trust you.” he snatches your phone from you, drafting out a text for rafe. going to need some time, today was a lot. i’m sorry. he smiles, satisfied with the text, he sends it. your heart swells again, fear crowding your senses. “pack a bag.” you nod following his instructions.

“okay good.” he picks up your bag, “we’re going back to mine, i need some help.” you cowardly follow him out of your own house, getting back onto his motorcycle. your head was swarming, but you tried to clear it as best as you could. you arrived back at barry’s trailer, heading inside, he sets you up with a scale to help him measure out his drugs. you sigh but start to fill the baggies. “good, you work on this for a bit and i’ll be back later.” he speeds away, and you continue the task.

shortly after, you hear a motorcycle approaching. assuming it’s barry you don’t move, continuing so he doesn’t yell at you. after four loud bangs, you can hear rafe on the other side of the door. you nervously glance around. unfortunately, barry had your phone. despite how badly you wanted to open the door, you knew barry would freak out on you. rafe looks around his hands on his head. “yo i got your money, c'mon man.” barry pulls up, seeing rafe.

“what was that?” rafe suddenly turns around. “i have your cash.” barry, impressed by how quickly rafe managed to get the money, eagerly smirked. “alright come in, we gotta count it.” rafe shakes his head but follows inside. at first, he doesn’t notice you, already used to barry having guest over. barry plops the heavy bag onto the floor, pulling out the stacks of cash. “ooh this shit is nice.” rafe chuckles, “i follow through on my deals, so we good?” he looked over, realizing who was actually messing with his drugs. “what the fuck is she doing here?” you struggle to make eye contact with rafe, your heart hurting. “you told me he let you go?” you look down, staying silent. barry intervenes, “well girls like men who are up front about how they feel…” he chuckles darkly, “wait too long to express it and then you’ll lose em’. ain’t that right pretty girl?” you look up at barry, his eyes locked on yours. “yes that’s right.” rafe could feel his anger boiling over him. he couldn’t believe it. “you really like this fucking loser?” you stop weighing the drugs, finally managing to meet his gaze.

“she’s perfectly content with me country club.” rafe's hands form into a fist. “nah this isn’t right.” he walks closer to you, bending down. he gets onto your level. he stares at barry. “i need to hear it from her.” you swallow a deep gulp, rafe being close to you now. “tell me,” you glance between the two men in front of you. fear settling over you, unsure of what to do. on one hand you weren’t sure if barry was still intent on doing the jealousy gig, but you knew rafe was vulnerable and you couldn’t hurt his feelings.

looking at barry, he mouths a “tell him.” you nod, “look i know it’s really sudden rafe. and i’m really sorry…” your words sting his heart, and his face falls. he doesn’t say anything. “he is just really funny. and he’s sweet to me.” rafe chuckles, unable to control his venomous anger. “yeah and i wasn’t fucking sweet to you? i did everything for you.” you roll your eyes, getting into character. “you LIE. you were the reason i got kidnapped. you don’t tell me how you feel, but i’m just supposed to wait around until YOU feel like the timing is right?” his eyes zoned in on you, he looked you up and down, noticing the powder on your fingers.

he was stuck, he knew something was off. you’d never willingly mess around with drugs, and you definitely wouldn’t be slumming it with barry of all people. “what’s he got you into?” disgust forms on his face, he looks between the two of you, scoffing. you have nothing else to say, so you look at barry. he nods in approval, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief. “see? i keep her tamed.” your face twisted in confusion in a slight second, and rafe caught on. “are you done counting yet? or do you need me to do it for you?” barry laughs, “it’s all here. your debt is paid.” barry places the money back into the bag, “are we done here?” rafe looks at you one more time, “yeah we’re done here.”

without a second of hesitation, he leaves the trailer. his hands cover his face, trying to steady his breathing. he couldn’t fight the anger that was creeping in.

back in barry’s trailer, he’s laughing mischievously. “that went perfect.” you frown, “am i done?” he sighs, “what, are you not having any fun?” you look around, “no, i just am tired. i worked all day and i just want to go to bed. in my bed.” he thinks for a moment. “fine, i’ll take you to yours. get some beauty sleep, but you’re stuck with me for awhile. rafe was on an ego trip regardless. he needs this.” you smile. “thank you.” you grab your bag, and head outside. you see rafe standing against his bike. you glance at him frowning. you wish he could drive you back home.

at your house, barry allows you to have your phone back on the one condition; you wouldn’t rat out the plan to rafe. you agreed, thankful to be able to rest alone. today had been so exhausting. you change into pajamas, hopping into bed. you look at your phone, seeing the numerous missed texts and calls from rafe. you frown, you felt so lost.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, you hear the doorbell ring. you didn’t want to answer it, but you were the only one home at the moment. you head downstairs, opening the door. rafe stands before you, “can we talk?” you move out of the way and invite him inside. “yeah, of course.” he follows you up to your room. you sit on your bed, and he’s pacing your room back and forth.

“do you actually like barry?” you stand up grabbing him, and he settles down. “no, not at all. he told me i had to do this to get back at you or he’d kill me.” rafe stares directly into your eyes, he grabs your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. he pulls away gently, “i really love you.” he squeezes you tightly; “when i thought he got you… i wanted to kill him.” you place your hand on his cheek. “it hurt me so bad but i didn’t know what else to do.” he frowns at you, “it’s not your fault, i don’t blame you at all.” you pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you firmly, worried to lose you.

“he said we have to keep it going for a week or so.” rafe nods understandingly, “okay. are you willing to do that?” you look down, but he places a hand on your chin to make you look up at him again. “are you comfortable with that?” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, “no, but i have to be.” he groans, “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry.” you sit on the bed, and he joins you. “we’ll get through this. one week and then i’m all yours.” he places his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “i’ll be here to protect you.” you kiss him again, “that’s the only motivation i need rafe.” he grins. “if it gets too bad, i’ll fuck some shit up for you.” you nod, “thank you rafe.”

#rafe cameron x reader #fiction #writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron angsts #rafe cameron x plus!reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #barry x reader #barry obx

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love-byers · 6 months ago

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some compelling byler proof?

the fact that before s4, david harbour said "if you've been watching the show you should know, will isn't interested in el, he's interested in someone else in the group"

"If you've been watching the show, you should know."

that's interesting considering before s4, will doesn't do much of anything that would blatantly show he has feelings mike. all of will and mikes relationship in s1 and most of it in s2 is emphasized on mike. will is just existing, and mike is reacting to him. the only things will does (which according to the cast is supposed to imply his romantic feelings) is yell for mike when he was having an episode, and say only mike understands him. so that's supposed to imply romance, but mike initiating physical touch (putting an arm around him x2, holding his hand), being protective of him, noticing the slightest change in his behavior, sleeping on his floor, sleeping in his hospital room, saying asking him to be friends is the best thing he's ever done while CRYING DOESNT? NONE OF THAT MOUNTAIN OF INTERACTIONS IMPLIES ROMANCE??

in fact, before s4 lots of people didn't believe will was queer at all, let alone had feelings for mike. but those people were wrong. if you've been watching the show, you should know.

that without a doubt means they have been hinting at will's feelings, you just have to pay attention. you're supposed to be noticing these small things. it means exactly what you think it means. sometimes it's the small things that say everything.

david harbour in that same video also said "will said he wants to be in the basement with mike playing dnd for the rest of his life."

and finn wolfhard chimed in "--for the rest of his life, exactly! and he said that!"

the funniest part of this is that will didn't say that. it was mike who brought that up, will just said "yeah i did think that." in a dramatic fight where MIKE IS THE BAD GUY!!!! MIKE IS THE ASSHOLE AND FEELS GUILTY!!!!!

and the way finn emphasizes "and he said that!", clearly frustrated with the people who tried to twist it to not be romantic when it means exactly what is said. and it's not like will or mike imply it's romantic either.

when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, that's romantic.

so it seems fair to say when you think asking someone to be your friend is the best decision you've ever made in your whole life, that's romantic too.

"What did you think, really? Did you think we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I really did."

all of that is, according to the cast, meant to directly acknowledge will's feelings, EVEN THOUGH there is a thin veil that could potentially lead you to believe that will is just mad because the group is falling apart. will wants to be in mikes basement playing dnd for the rest of his life, and he confirmed it himself.

if you've been watching, you should know.

so that is supposed to very obviously be hinting at will's feelings, but mike saying "it was the best thing i've ever done" means nothing? that has no veil. that is not unclear. after s5 i could definitely see the cast saying "mike thinks asking will to be his friend is the best thing he's ever done" and finn going "HE SAID THAT!!! HE SAID IT HIMSELF!!!!!!!"

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #stranger things 4 #mike wheeler i know what you are

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: The angst is still angsting Prompt: Vixen feels like she needs to run away but, Where to? How? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 54: Sail Away Sweet Sister

Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea I know you'll find somebody To love you as much as me

Your heart drummed in your ears as you ran upstairs. Taking the suitcase you’d brought and quickly filling it up with some of the clothes you’d left scattered around. Your coat was downstairs, so you took one of Remus’ fluffiest sweaters and put that on top of one of yours.

Whatever you did, you couldn’t stay, because then you might run to Sirius’ arms and tell him all you said was a lie, that you loved him –because you did– and that you dreaded the idea of not being with him, which was also true. Your stomach was so twisted you had to swallow your will to puke at least once as you put whatever you found inside your suitcase.

What the hell have I done? you wondered, as you remembered what you’d said to Sirius, as you remembered using something like charmspeak on Remus. No, it wasn’t like it, it had been it. You had seen your mother use it before, she had told you how it felt to use it, and your grandma had talked about the terrible thing it was, as powerful and disarming as imperius. And then you had gone and used it on your best friend. On the person that you’d left your boyfriend for, no matter how you saw it, you were awful.

Even if you hadn’t meant to do it, even if you didn’t even know you could. You had manipulated –forced– him into leaving you crying on the stairwell and going with Sirius instead. He hadn’t had a say in it, he just mindlessly followed your stupid instructions. It made you feel even worse about the entire situation. You were still crying, hands trembling as you forced shut your suitcase and held it with one hand. You had pulled out Nina’s wand. You had never used it, and you didn’t want to do it either, but you weren’t about to leave the house without any means of producing magic, so you had carefully taken it out of the back drawer and stared at it for a second before shoving it in your shirt and finishing your task.

You looked around, the wonderful and lovely place you had been staying at and almost felt sorry for yourself. But you knew Remus and Sirius had to be alone with each other if they would sort things out and therefore you had to leave.

But where to?

You couldn’t go back to your house, you couldn’t go back to Remus’ house, and you couldn’t go back to the school without sending a note first. You took a deep breath. A place where you could do magic if necessary without being detected by the ministry, a place where you could get a new wand, a place where you could get the stuff you needed for school. Diagon.

You had just stood up from the bed when you heard a faint knock on the door.

Remus was completely disoriented by the time he reached the kitchen. Sirius was curled up on the floor, his head hidden in between his knees and quietly sobbing. Remus turned back to look at the stairs, but you were not there anymore. He swallowed, he wasn’t sure why he’d left, but he suspected what it might have been. You had always been charming, but you had never charmed anyone. Not like that, but it would make sense that you had such an ability, especially after being in close contact with fae things, not only the fruit his mother had given you but also the fae pool.

Either way, he didn’t even have time to process it properly, he was torn, should he stay with Sirius or should he run behind you? There was no easy choice, there was no right choice. He hesitated on the door for a second, and it was Sirius’ quiet sob that had him kneel down next to his friend. He’d talk to Sirius and then the two would talk to you, simple. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Sirius raised his head, hopeful, “Vi–” he started, and then he noticed who was on the other side. “Moony,” he breathed.

Sirius could tell he was worried, Moony looked at him with such a heavy look of concern, his brows almost touching from how deep his frown was. And yet he looked beautiful. Sirius felt horrible, how could he look at Moony and think of how incredible he was when you had just broken up with him for that same reason?!

“What happened?” Remus asked, kneeling down next to Sirius and shutting the door with a simple wave of his hand so no one would walk into the kitchen. He moved one of Sirius’ curls behind his ear to look at his face better. His beautiful eyes were red-rimmed, and his long lashes stuck to one another from the tears he’d shed.

Sirius sobbed, he didn’t even know where to start. “I think…” he stammered, chest tight at the mere thought of it. “She broke up with me.”

“What?!” Remus asked in disbelief. If there was something he was sure of, it was how much you loved each other. He was also feeling incredibly high levels of despair and anguish now. He was not expecting your break-up to be so harrowing for him. After all, if you were both single then that would mean he had a chance with at least one of you.

But he didn’t care about chances, he didn’t care about being with either of you if you couldn’t be with each other. He had seen the pain in your eyes, he had seen the hurt in Sirius’, there was no way you had done it willingly.

“Maybe it’s a prank, an awful prank but a prank. Maybe someone’s forced her to–”

“No,” Sirius mewled. “It was me, I fucked up.” His voice broke near the end of his sentence and he covered his face with his hands. “I ruined everything!”

Remus’ gaze softened as he sat next to Sirius and started playing with his hair in the same reassuring way he had seen you do plenty of times, which just made Sirius’ sobbing increase. He loved and he hated that he did. Remus frowned, “Sirius–”

“I fell in love with someone else,” Sirius admitted in a whisper.

Remus’ hand stopped moving entirely. The sorrow and pain he felt for Sirius had turned into shock. With someone else? Something bubbled up inside him, he felt his muscles tense and his gaze harden. If Sirius had fallen for someone and you had found out about it, then he had broken your heart. Your already feeble fucking heart. Remus wasn’t sad anymore, he was furious. There was a growing hostility inside of him, because Sirius had fallen for someone else and in the process he had hurt you. He’d seen the tears streaming down your cheeks, he’d seen your red and puffy eyes, you had cried and it had been Sirius, of all people, the one that caused it.

“And you told her?” Remus reproached, voice a little louder, judging. “You know what she went through in Christmas you–”

“Of course, I didn’t fucking tell her!” Sirius retorted, borderline angry, he’d never been good at keeping his temper. “She figured it out, she’s always been clever like that.”

“How could you?” Again, it was that judging gaze, Remus was frowning and leaning away from Sirius.

Sirius noticed and huffed, “It wasn’t just me. We weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“You and who, Sirius?” Remus asked, he could barely hold back the expression of disgust. He loved Sirius but hurting you was crossing the line. “You cheated on her?”

“Of course not! You and me!” Sirius responded, pointing at the two.

Remus froze again. Anger dissipated into confusion, his breath caught in his throat as Sirius’ stunning grey eyes fixated on his. “What…” Remus stuttered, mouth trembling as he thought of the words he needed to say next “What do you mean you and me?”

Sirius huffed again and bit his lip before speaking, “She seems to be under the impression that you like me, Remus.”

“That’s–” Remus’ breath was heavy, he was struggling to think properly, his head was all over the place. What did all of it mean? “Even if I did, she shouldn’t have broken up with you just because of that!”

Sirius let out a pained sort of laugh, “She figured I–” he was cut off by his own sharp intake of breath, he exhaled, “She figured I liked you back.”

Remus was barely processing the words that came out of Sirius’ mouth. His best friend, his everlasting crush, had just admitted how much he liked him and rather than feeling happy about it, he was feeling sorrow for you.

“You’re an idiot!”

“I know,” Sirius said simply.

“How could you fall for someone else when you had her?”

Oh– Hadn’t he done the same? Granted he’d never dated either of you, but he had fallen for both.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius sobbed. “I didn’t even know I liked men until–” he averted his gaze, eyes trickling with tears as he tried to speak again. “She taught me it was possible to like both.”

“And you fell in love with a man shortly after,” Remus reproached. He might have been the man, but it didn’t make it any better for you.

“She said she didn’t love me anymore, she said she stopped loving me the minute she figured I liked you.”

“I doubt that’s true,” Remus said honestly. He’d seen the way you looked at each other, he’d seen the love in both of your eyes.

“It’s bullshit, I could tell!”

“And why didn’t you go after her?”

“You don’t understand,” Sirius said. “She’s stupid self-righteous. She’s not going to come back, not as long as she knows about us.”

“There is nothing between us!”

Sirius turned to him, his eyes still red and teary, but looking at Remus with a sort of accepting gaze, he let out a long breath. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if that were true.”

He looked beautiful, even when his world was crumbling apart and had enough tears streaming down his face to fill oceans. It was ridiculous how much Remus could hate what he had done, and yet love him just the same. How could he hate him for hurting you, when Sirius had done it by doing the one thing he had hoped of him for years?

Remus was hesitant as he leaned onto him, his hand heavy as he placed it on Sirius’ cheek, he wiped one of his tears and Sirius closed his eyes, basking in the calm and warmth that Remus’ touch brought. It had always been calming in some sort of way, but it had never been as soothing as that day. Remus leaned close to Sirius, close enough to feel his breath fan his face, he was about to kiss him, that kiss he’d longed for ages, but he stopped and pulled back.

“We go, and we talk to her,” he said as he stood up, and pulled Sirius along with him.

“What?” Sirius said confused, trying to wipe the tears with his hands, making his face grow redder with how harsh he was being.

Remus was tempted to pull Sirius’ hands from his face but decided that maintaining a decent distance between the two would be better. “We tell her she’s wrong. We tell her I don’t like you, however the hell she might have gotten that idea. And you tell her you were confused and we’ve talked and–”

“She won’t buy it.”

“Sirius.”

“You wouldn’t buy it if I told you I didn’t like her, Remus!”

The former was taken aback, Sirius’ words meant a lot more than they let on: he liked both of them in equal amounts. But Remus was too distracted to listen to it, his breath short as he kept racking his brain for a solution, anything to have the both of you smiling again.

“I barely know how she didn’t notice earlier, for fucks sake, I’ve drawn you none stop lately, I’ve been wearing your clothes as much as she does, we fucking sleep together every other night–”

“That’s for Moony…”

“Is it, though? Is it really for Moony? After the moon? After he accepted Vixen?”

The three of you knew it wasn’t for Moony anymore, but neither would have dared to say it, Sirius might have been the only one brave enough.

“There must be a way. We need to talk to her Sirius… we– I’ll step out of the way,” tears pricked in Remus’ eyes. It was hard to accept what had happened, he sighed. “I’m the one that got in between.”

Sirius looked at Remus with a sort of understanding that only two people in the same situation could have for each other. “I’m as much to blame as you are.”

There was a moment of silence, nothing other than each other’s breath was heard, the gentle and yet ragged way in which their breathing synchronised would have been romantic if they weren’t both close to falling apart.

“We’ll show her then.”

“What?”

“We don’t try anything, I go back to Alice or whomever and when she realises I’m not interested then she’ll come back to you, guilt-free and–”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupted. “For how long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?”

Remus’ gaze hardened. There was no easy answer. “It wouldn’t matter if I had a longer claim than she does–”

“Longer than we dated?”

Remus hesitated, looking anywhere but at Sirius until he had enough strength to turn back. Those piercing grey eyes, he couldn't lie to them anymore. “Probably since before you met her,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what it was until we kissed.”

“Ugh, I’m so blind!” Sirius complained as he hid his face between his hands again. He remembered that kiss, it had been a wonderful kiss. Of course, he didn’t even think how gay that was until now. He turned to Remus again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were dating any girl that winked at you, Sirius. I thought you were the straightest person I knew. I mean I would have thrown my money on James being queer before I threw it on you! Either way, it doesn’t matter, I didn’t say anything and I still wouldn’t have said anything, I’d never want to come in between. I’m sure I’ll get over it and–”

“If you didn’t get over it for 2 years, Remus…”

“Well, I don’t care! Sirius, she’s barely holding herself together after Christmas, you’ve seen her!”

“I’m the worst boyfriend in the world,” Sirius sighed.

“We should talk to her,” Remus said, “We have to go talk to her now!”

“And say what, exactly?”

“I don’t know, I don’t care, but we lock ourselves in a room and we don’t leave until we’ve talked this through. The three of us.”

Sirius was hesitant, he wasn’t sure Remus’ solution would work. He didn’t see a way in which you could just talk it through. He had fallen in love with someone else, he had broken your heart, and he didn’t think there were enough words in the world to fix it. Not when you still loved him and had decided to move out of the way, for Remus and for him.

Not when you thought, with such fallacious certainty that the only way in which either Remus and Sirius would be happy, was with each other and away from you. Sirius gulped and turned to Remus with a meek, almost begrudging nod.

Remus handed Sirius a napkin and he was quick to wipe the track of his tears with it.

“It’s obvious I’ve been crying,” he swallowed. “If anybody sees us…”

“Stand next to me,” Remus said before casting a Disillusionment Charm over his friend. Sirius hesitated before he leaned closer to Remus, he hated how good it felt to be able to stand this close to him, he hated that he kept thinking of how well Remus smelled and how incredible he was at handling these kinds of situations. The absolute reverence he felt for him was so akin to love that he felt he was betraying you, even while he was desperate to fix things, to hug you and pray for forgiveness until his throat was sore and you promised you’d take him back.

The two of them walked side by side, shoulders brushing against each other constantly, Sirius wasn’t sure if Remus was standing so close to him on purpose, if that was how it went with men. Sirius had never dated a man before, he had no idea what such relationships entailed, and he had no idea if Remus stood so close to him because of that or if it was because of how concerned he was. Knowing Remus, it might have been the latter.

And it was, Remus was standing close to Sirius to remind himself that this was real. That it wasn’t a dream, that Sirius liked him back and that it was about the worst possible time for him to figure it out. But he was also there because he wanted to be there for Sirius, he wasn’t sure he’d seen him cry like that since he got kicked out of his house, and he hadn’t even been there, but rather it had been James the one that sent him a letter with the details of the situation before he took the Floo to the Potters. Perhaps the one time he had seen Sirius as upset as he was today, was after the incident with Severus, but back then, Remus had been so angry at him that he had done almost the exact same thing that you’d done to Sirius earlier.

He had left him crying, alone. This time around, he hadn’t been the wronged one, but he had been on the wrong-doing side. And no matter how guilty he felt for it, how guilty the two of them felt for falling in love, there was still a magnetism that pulled them together like the wind called on the waves and like the stars called in the sky.

This time around, Remus was determined to be a supportive friend, not only for Sirius but for you as well. It didn’t matter if he had to bear seeing the two of you together again, in fact, after seeing both of your reactions to what had happened, he wasn’t sure there was anything he wanted more. Or… perhaps deep down, a greedy part of him did. A selfish part of him could see one outcome that would make him the happiest man alive, but of course that was a dream. So unrealistic and ridiculous that he wouldn’t even dare speak it aloud.

It would make him sound too selfish, too greedy, like the men who wanted to have it all and at the end of the story, ended with nothing, as atonement for asking too much of the world. Icarus, Midas, Macbeth, Dorian Grey; all their stories, their lives, they all ended despondently.

Remus had always been coolheaded, and though he liked to think he was realistic, he often veered towards pessimism, and there was nothing more pessimistic going through the exact same thought process you had gone through. To step out of the way to make the other two happy.

Sirius was still standing close to Remus, almost behind him, when Remus leaned over the door and knocked on the door. There was no answer, he knocked again, a little louder this time, and then placed his hand on the doorknob. The door creaked open, and they both looked inside. The bed was messy, your clothes were gone, and they had left along with you.

The knock on the door had been none other than Effie. She’d found you crying with Nina’s wand in your hand. You tried to wipe the tears away when she walked in, but it had been too late, she’d seen them, and she’d seen your luggage.

She frowned and approached you slowly. “Darling, are you okay?”

You swallowed, your breathing was hard, and your face was slightly scrunched up as you shook your head in response. She crossed the room in an instant and wrapped you in her arms. She was taller than you, and she held your face to her collarbone as she brushed her hand over your head. It was such a kind and motherly gesture, that you couldn’t help but shed tears again.

It’s not that you would have gone straight to your mother in a situation like this, but it was the fact that you couldn’t, even if you wanted to, that had upset you even further. She was kind and soft, she was gentle as she brushed her hand over your hair and made a soft, shooing sound for you, almost like the ocean.

“I–” you floundered, “need to leave.”

She pulled back to look at you, she had a similar expression of concern as the one Remus had given you. “Darling, you can stay for as long as you want–”

“No,” you interrupted, voice soft but determined. “I have to, Effie. Please.”

She took a deep breath and licked her lips before focusing her face on you, “Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You’re not leaving until you tell me.”

You took a deep breath, your gaze cast downwards before you uttered the strength to say your next words, “I broke Sirius’ heart.” It was the truth, and you felt your own heart shatter with the realisation. It’s for the best, you thought. I must do it, for them.

Effie looked at you, first confused and then, almost reproachingly. As if you hurting Sirius –her son– had changed the entire idea she had of you. But she had also seen the way you looked at Sirius and therefore, was more confused than angry.

“What?”

“Please, Effie. You said you’d help,” your voice was slow, broken. “I can’t see him again, not now. Not until we’ve both processed–”

“You should talk instead.”

“No,” you said again, just as determined as last time. “I can’t talk, or I will make it worse, so much worse. I’ve already made it bad enough. I’ll owe you one.”

Effie bit her lip, “Where will you go?”

“Diagon.”

“You have anyone there?”

“A friend of my mother,” you lied. She squinted her eyes at you, as if she didn’t quite believe you. But you had already lied that day, you had already told Sirius the biggest lie of your life and therefore, these smaller ones came out as simply and naturally as flying did to you.

“We’re not close, but I’m sure he’ll take me, at least until school starts.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll write to you when I’m there.”

Effie took a deep breath, a strong, wise part of her told her that she had to force you to stay, to talk to Sirius and to fix things, rather than run away. But she wasn’t sure you would, even if you stayed. Not with everything that had happened to you, not with everything that you’d gone through. She shook her head as if reproaching herself for the decision she’d made and then looked at you. “Okay.”

You held back a sob, “Thank you.”

She placed her hand behind your back and pulled you outside of the room. You heard a set of steps climbing up the stairwell on the right, but Effie was quick enough to walk the two of you inside a room, shutting the door shortly after. You heard the soft murmuring of Sirius and Remus as they knocked on the door of the other room, and you turned to Effie urgently.

She had taken you into her study. She had a lard chimney behind her desk.

“If you don’t write, I’ll find you,” she said, it was something between a threat and a promise.

“Don’t tell them where I am.”

“I won’t,” she reassured as she handed you the bag with Floo powder.

You took some in your hand and threw it on the chimney. The flames turned green and grew as you said “Diagon.”

You were about to step into the fire when she stopped you, she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t run away.”

You froze. You had been running, from your pain and from your problems and if you stopped they’d caught up with you and then you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope, you’d fall apart. You turned to her, there were tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Effie. I’ll owe you one for the rest of our lives.”

She stared at you sadly. She had seen how distressed you were, she had felt it too. Emotions so strong they were perceived even by others, she had heard of that kind of magic, but she had never experienced it, not with sadness and sorrow, at least.

“Is she here?” Sirius asked, voice on edge as he hastily opened the door. Remus stood behind him, equally pale.

“Who, darling?” Effie asked as if she didn’t know exactly what Sirius had meant.

The flames spit you out into the middle of Diagon, there was still light. You wiped the tears from your eyes and walked straight towards the one place you knew you’d be able to stay at: The Leaky Cauldron. There were a few witches and wizards sitting on the different tables, most of them looking worse for wear. There was a man with a very large bird in the corner. It wasn’t an owl, or an eagle, or anything you had seen on magical creatures and where to find them, but the bird cawed at the man until he threw him a piece of his steak.

There was an old lady reading tarot to a man in one of the corners and she turned to you with a sinister smile, “5 sickles and I’ll tell you your destiny, pretty girl.”

“Thank you, mam. But I don’t do readings.”

“You don’t believe in the power of the cards?”

“I have seen the power of them,” you admitted in a serious tone.

She pulled your hand to hers with a sharp movement. Her grip was hard, and even as you tried to pull back she held you in place.

“Do you want the good or the bad news?” She asked as she tilted her head to you.

“I said I don’t want any news,” you responded sharply. You didn’t like random strangers manhandling you, no matter how old and feeble-looking they might be. You considered taking out your wand but the last thing you wanted was to call more attention to yourself. Not to mention, you didn’t have a wand, and you had never tried to use Nina’s. You tried to pull your hand again and she tutted.

“I’ll give you a free reading, just because of how upset you seem.”

“I don’t–”

“You’ll find love soon.”

You scoffed, laughing at her words in a mocking-like, bitter manner, if you hadn’t done that, perhaps you would have cried.

“A lot of love, it seems to me here that two boys–”

“Stop!” you interrupted angrily. “I said I didn’t want readings. And you’re absolutely terrible at it anyway. Find love? Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. “There are higher chances for me to find a terrible, uncalled-for dеath, than there are for me to find love again. Now, please,” it did not sound like a request, “give me my hand back.”

She let go of your hand as she cocked her head to the side with a curious gaze. “You seem lost child, I can help you find yourself.”

“I know exactly where I am, thank you,” you said as you pulled your hand away from her sharply. You were sure one of her nails had scratched you by the stinging sensation in your hand. You were quick to turn around and walk towards the back counter of the pub where they had a small sign that claimed they had available rooms.

The woman shook her head as she saw you leave and turned to the friend next to her. “You saw it too, right?”

The man in front of her nodded. “She’ll have a surprise when she figures it out.”

“Poor thing, so bitter and yet so young,” responded the witch.

“She might be having a bad day,” said the man with a shrug as he pulled another card from the deck and placed it on the table.

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace towards the counter. Once you reached, a tall, slightly imposing man gave you an impassive look. “I’d like a room.”

“How old are you?”

“Old enough to rent a room,” you responded. “I’ll stay here for the rest of the week and pay in advance.”

The man scoffed and nodded, handing you a key when you handed him enough Galleons to cover for your stay and then some. “Madam Rim will show you to your room,” he said and nodded towards a small woman sleeping in a chair in the corner.

You approached her carefully and said her name a couple of times before she trembled and turned to you with an angry gaze. The man on the counter snickered when you jumped at her angry look. One of her eyes was completely black, and you weren’t sure if she could actually see you with it. Then when she closed it, it was like that of a reptile.

“Why have you awoken me, child?” Her breath was foul, and you tried to keep the disgust you felt away from your face so as not to piss her off further.

“I was told you’d bring me to my room.”

She rolled her eyes, or well, her one eye, and then turned to you again, “Number?”

“Thirteen,” you said after checking your keys.

“What a terrible omen,” she responded as she stood up, you would have sworn you heard her bones creak as she did. Her back was hunched from age and she looked like the kind of woman muggles would call a witch. In fact, you might have seen her on the cover of one of those children’s books at the Muggle Library.

“Now, that,” you remarked. “Is a prediction that I’d believe in.”

She turned to you with a confused and judging sort of gaze and then motioned for you to follow behind her. She guided you through a long set of stairs and then to a corridor, she stopped in front of a door and motioned towards it. “Your room.”

“Thank you,” you said with a nod and placed the key on the lock. You turned but the door wouldn’t budge. She was almost at the end of the hall when you called. “Madam Rim, I think I got the wrong key.”

She shook her head, “Just push a bit more, it gets stuck often.”

You sighed but did what told, twisting the door and pushing again. Nothing happened. Madam Rim had already left, and you were stuck outside of your room. You left the suitcase you’d been carrying on the floor and attempted to push again but it didn’t work either.

You groaned, exasperated and tried once more, this time leaning all of your weight on your shoulder, but the door opened before you even touched it and you stumbled inside the room, your head would have hit the bed pole if you hadn’t used your hand to stop your fall. “Fuck.”

“Ah,” you complained, looking at your hand. You tried to move it but it hurt, which had you wince in pain as you walked out of the room, grabbed the suitcase, and then walked back inside, closing the door with unnecessary force. It was like the fucking universe was trying to play a joke on you, the door had bounced back and you’d barely had enough time to get out of the way before getting hit.

“Stupid fucking door,” you mumbled as you shut it again, this time being more gentle and pushing it slowly into the frame. When it finally shut, you sighed and walked back to the bed. You’d left the suitcase over the sheets, and that’s when you spotted the keychain Effie had given you. You looked at it and whispered “Green.” Suddenly the sand inside the small hourglass changed into green. Effie would know you were alright with that.

The room was old and worn, but it didn’t look dirty. You let yourself fall on the bedsheets and winced when your hand touched the mattress. You pulled your hand up, looking at it and trying to move it while you frowned. It hurt, it hurt like a bitch, and you still couldn’t compare it to how much more it had hurt to leave Sirius.

I’m going to need a potion for this, you thought as you pushed the suitcase off the bed and accommodated yourself. It might have gotten a dent but frankly, you didn’t care. You let your hand fall again and groaned when it hurt just the same as before. There was a big window that allowed the waning afternoon light inside. You didn’t want to think, so you pulled Nina’s wand and pointed towards them. Surely you could perform a simple spell with it…

Instead, the chair next to the window flew towards you and smashed onto the bed pole. You sat on the bed and looked at the shreds with shock, instantly leaving Nina’s wand on the side, so fast it was as if it had burned you. You threw yourself back in the bed and sighed.

“I will also need another wand,” you said as you stared at the intricate details of the bed’s canopy. You stayed like that, thinking– or rather, just staring mindlessly at the squares and circles, and at the shadows cast by the low light that still came from the window. You must have dozed at some point, since the next thing you knew, it was dark. The shadows had grown so much that they were enveloping you almost entirely. You sighed, the temperature had diminished severely.

For all you cared, you would have fallen asleep and gotten swallowed by the cold. But you had almost frozen to dеath a little while ago and something told you that it would be a terrible idea not to, at least, turn on the fire to warm the room. You had felt what freezing was like, the violent shivering that left you sore and aching the following day, you were not eager to feel like that again.

The boys slept without any heating most of the time, and it didn’t bother you at all since you had always had them to warm you through the night. But today you’d be alone, and you’d be alone until you got back to school, so catching a cold for being too careless and indolent to turn on the fire was not an option.

You considered taking Nina’s wand and using that to light up the fireplace, but you remembered what had happened with the chair, the shreds of it still all over the floor, and you decided you didn’t want to risk burning the entire place down. The last thing you needed was people realising you were in two places with a fire –in which you would have actually been the cause of both– and deeming you an arsonist.

You sighed before leaning up, and wincing when you realised your hand had not gotten much better during the snooze you’d had. When you finally got up the bed you realised you had a bit of a runny nose –probably from the cold– and sniffed before getting to the bathroom and blowing your nose quickly. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a second. You looked terribly doleful, unhappy. You washed your teeth before walking back into the room and sitting on the wooden floor next to the fireplace.

They had some kind of warming charm on them since they didn’t feel nearly as cold as they should have and then you spent at least a quarter of an hour trying to turn the fire on with wandless magic. You had never tried Incendio wandlessly before, and it had been bIoody hard. When eventually you did manage to get the flame going, you threw some old newspaper to liven it up, sighed and leaned in a little closer.

It’s not nearly as warm as they are, you thought bitterly. But they might be warming each other now, as they should be. You didn’t want to be away from the warmth of the flames, so rather than moving back to the bed, you stayed crouched next to them and dug your head inside the jumper. It was Remus’ but Sirius had pinched it and it smelled so much like him, like the two of them, that you started to cry.

Thick hot tears streamed down your cheeks and dampened the sinfully soft fabric of the jumper. Your lips were dry and tasted like salt, and you cried, and cried, over everything that had happened so far. This time you knew there would be no one to bother you, that nobody would find you crying and that no one would ask if you were alright. In a way, you were glad that you didn’t have to hold back your tears anymore. No more fear of being found crying, of being thought of as weak, even if every tear you shed was more than justified.

But there was still that selfish part of you that dared to wish you weren’t alone, that dared hope that you hadn’t left, that you had continued pretending you didn’t know and that you were cuddling with Sirius and Remus, rather than sitting by yourself in the middle of a small inn.

Eventually, in your reluctance to move away from the flames, you decided to sleep there, and you turned into Vixen, but you took off Remus’ jumper off first and once you were a fox, you used your snout to find the bottom hem and slip inside of it, limping a little as you did. It was warm, and it smelled delightful. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you weren’t in a lonely inn, but rather curled up in one of James’ soft beds, right on top of Remus’ chest, and with Padfoot’s snout pushing you as he too tried to get some chest space to rest his head on.

Perhaps once the boys sorted what they had to sort out, you could go back to cuddling them, maybe you could use the next full moon as an excuse. Once they were settled into their own relationship, and once things with Sirius went back to normal –or as normal as they could possibly be after what had happened.

When you woke up, it was because of a small, knocking on the glass. You were not on the first floor, so you shook your head, stirring inside Remus’ sweater before limping outside of it and peering at the room. The fire had almost gone out, but you were still warm, and the thing you’d heard on the window was nothing other than Reese, tapping his beak against the glass.

You turned back into yourself and stretched as you walked towards the window, unlocking the small hook at the top and pushing it open for Reese to come inside, your hand hurt as you did, so you had to manoeuvre it with only one of them. “Hey little one,” you said softly, you then realised he had something tied to his feet.

You hesitated before untying and unrolling the small piece of parchment.

He was flying frantically while looking for you today, he thought you’d abandoned him. Where the hell did you go off to, Vix? I know it has to do with Sirius, he looked upset, and he was whispering about with Remus all night too. He might be my brother but if he did something to you, I’ll punch him for it. Mum told everyone you were feeling sick and that that was the reason you left early. Sirius and Remus seemed confused at it, but they don’t know Mum like I do, I knew she knew something. I went straight to her and asked her. She said it wasn’t her place to tell me what had happened and that I should ask you myself. Problem was, I obviously had no fucking idea where you’d gone to. She didn’t want to tell me, but I can be very convincing you know that already. Don’t worry, I haven’t told Sirius and Remus, if they don’t tell me what’s going on, well then I won’t tell them the information I’ve gathered by myself. I assumed Reese would be able to find you, wherever in Diagon you had gone off to and decided to send my little note through him. I know you’ve been upset lately. You should come back, I can send Sirius away with Remus if you want, I think it’s a bad idea for you to be alone now. Especially with everything that’s going on, but at the end of the day, it's your choice. You better fucking write me every day though, I’m worried sick. You are also like a sister to me. You know that, right? Anyway, I expect to hear from you today, or I might just go to Diagon and drag you back myself, don’t test my patience. Love, Prongs

Sirius and Remus were whispering about all night, that was good, that was great, it meant they were talking. It meant they would be together and then, once Sirius forgot about his infatuation with you –as if he could ever– he and Remus could be happy and you’d be able to talk to them both again, and things would be all right.

You really did believe that to be a possibility, or at least you were desperate to believe in it, you couldn’t see the alternatives, let alone the answer that the entire world had been screaming at you. In the whispers of the mermaids kissing each other, in the loud teasing voices of the ghosts, in the eyes of the old hag that read you your destiny but that you were too obdurate to actually listen to. You looked through the drawers of the old room and found some parchment and a quill. You quickly scribbled something for Prongs. You had to write with your non-writing hand and the letters came askew, but you couldn’t exactly use a spell to fix them, so you tried your best to at least make it readable.

I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. Sirius did nothing, it was me. I’m sorry if I ruined our trip, I was having lots of fun but it had to be done. I’ll send you notes every day, but it can’t be through Reese, or they’ll figure it out.

You bit your lip thinking of a solution to the problem when you remembered the keychain that Effie had given you. Protean charm, you thought. That was the answer. But there was no way in hell you managed to perform a charm of the sort without your wand, let alone with Nina’s wand that seemed to refuse to work with you, so you’d have to buy something.

I have a plan, I’ll get us a way of communicating by the end of the night. I’ll send Reese to your rooftop, he’ll hide behind the chimney. Thank you for caring, Prongs. I also think of you as a brother. Love, Vix

You wrapped the small note on Reese’s feet, cursing as a jolt of pain hit your entire arm for forcing your wrist and sent him off, promising to get him something to eat by the time you came back with a new wand and something to charm.

Sail away sweet sister My heart is always with you No matter what you do I'll always be in love with you

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3