#but like i don’t know if i’ll be able to do that!

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]

c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I don’t want to see you anymore. 

The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest. 

He puts down his pen.

The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club. 

His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.

He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in. 

He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can. 

Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him. 

Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you. 

And now it’s over. 

He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen. 

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“What happened?” 

Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?” 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks again. 

Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage. 

The fifth time, you answer. 

He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?” 

He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.” 

“I don’t want to be with you.” 

“Have I upset you?” 

“Would that make it easier?” 

“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?” 

“I don’t want to see you.” 

“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.” 

“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”

“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.” 

“No–”

“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.” 

“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.” 

“I’m on my way.” 

He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.

He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment. 

He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day? 

Now he’s thinking, What did I do? 

He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks. 

“Come in, Aaron.” 

He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom. 

You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share. 

“Hi.” 

“Can I sit down?” 

You gesture for him to do as he likes. 

Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.

“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. 

“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.” 

You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone. 

“What’s making you feel that way?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Again, avoiding and evasive. 

He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?” 

“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree. 

“No?” he asks. 

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.” 

You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?” 

“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.” 

“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?” 

You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting. 

“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 

Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead. 

Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow. 

“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.” 

“Then what’s making you feel this way?” 

You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze. 

He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.” 

“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?” 

“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”

“What about what I think?” 

“What do you think?” 

You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.” 

Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.” 

“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly. 

“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.” 

“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.” 

“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.” 

“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago. 

“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.” 

“I don’t know who I am…” 

“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.” 

“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.” 

You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.” 

“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.” 

You share a look. 

“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.” 

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble. 

“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.” 

“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath. 

“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly. 

Your breath warms his arm. “No.” 

“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.” 

“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath. 

“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.” 

“You like making girls cry.” 

“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…” 

Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.” 

“All my fault.” 

“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.” 

“Stop making me feel guilty.” 

His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.” 

“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.” 

“I know. Just step on me a bit.” 

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…” 

“Just rough me up a little.” 

“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.” 

“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching. 

He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh. 

“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.” 

“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.” 

“Sorry. Just had to get it in.” 

He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.” 

“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.

You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.” 

“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden. 

You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you. 

“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.” 

“I’m not that young,” you say. 

“So you admit it?” 

You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar. 

—

…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…

Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off. 

The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate. 

You press a hand down your side. 

To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl. 

You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said. 

This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite. 

“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?” 

You laugh. “I bet you hope so.” 

“That’s accusatory in nature.” 

“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom. 

Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling. 

“Home only,” he says. 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil. 

“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.” 

Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.” 

“I said too slutty.” 

“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…” 

“The man who loves me?”

“Exactly.” 

He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause. 

“Spin?” he asks. 

One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles. 

“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.” 

“I have a confession.” 

“Yeah?” 

“This one was for you.” 

He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.” 

“This is the last one.” 

“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion. 

You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you. 

You ease the pillow down his face. 

“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask. 

“Not purposefully.” 

“You look a little… hot.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face. 

“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest. 

He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard. 

They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady. 

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply. 

You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron? 

“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you. 

“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.” 

His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest. 

You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about. 

“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful. 

He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.” 

You knew he’d like the white babydoll. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[wannabeschyulersister]

“What’s my middle name?”

Pedro’s smirk widened as he heard the responses to your question from his fellow cast members. They were all hilariously incorrect.

“You don’t have a middle name,” he replied confidently when they all gave up.

You turned your card over and showed what you wrote, “You are correct. I don’t have a middle name.”

Pedro wanted to wink at you since you had both discussed facts like this early on, but he was aware of the numerous eyes and cameras on you both.

During the press tour, the two of you had to be extremely cautious not to let the lingering glances or secret touches be revealed. It was incredibly challenging to maintain a distance from the man you loved so deeply.

“Next question, what Marvel movie did I have a minor role in?”

Pedro knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “You were in Captain America: The Winter Solider.”

“Correct,” you smiled.

Pedro scored more points with the last two questions you had. It surprised the others, but not you.

Next, it was Paul’s turn. You all got a few minutes for a break before the rest of the game. You asked one of the PAs where the bathroom was, and they pointed you in the right direction.

You entered the room and finished your business before exiting. Pedro stood alone in the hallway, waiting for you. A part of you sensed that he would follow you away from the others.

He extended his index finger to gesture you over, saying, “Come here.”

You eagerly complied. It felt like it had been too long since you last felt his embrace. It had just been a few hours and you were craving it. He drew you closer, and your lips met in a passionate kiss.

His lips moved to your neck and then right under your left ear, uttering, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been sitting right next to you during all these interviews this morning,” you chuckled.

“I know,” he replied, “but I haven’t been able to touch you, kiss you, or do anything. It’s been torture.”

“Oh, you poor, baby,” you cooed.

Pedro tightened his grip on you once more before letting you go in case anyone made their way down the hall.

“We just have a couple more interviews, and then I’ll be yours.”

That made him smile. “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek softly.

“I have an idea,” he blurted out.

“Uh oh,” you said jokingly.

“Why don’t we attend one of the premieres of the movie together, as a couple?” He appeared vulnerable in that moment, as if he was apprehensive about your response.

“Is that what you truly want?” you inquired. It had been nearly a year of hiding the relationship. He had been hinting for some time that he was ready for something more.

He nodded in agreement, “If we both agree, I wouldn’t want to force you into doing anything you’re not prepared for.”

You swiftly weighed your pros and cons. Undoubtedly, there were more pros.

You grabbed his hand and smiled, “Then I guess we better color coordinate our outfits.”

[covenofagatha]

Saw you're taking requests and decided to toss one your way!

Agatha x reader, reader has had a really tough day and Agatha helps put her into subspace to relax. Some soft!dom Agatha with a splash of praise, degradation, mommy and maybe some size kink? And of course some fluffy aftercare after reader has been thoroughly fucked out of her mind❤

Hope you enjoy! (Disclaimer: I've never written subspace before so hopefully I did it justice, along with everything else you wanted)

Bad day

When Agatha comes home to find that you had a bad day, she takes it upon herself to make you feel better

Word count: 2600

Warnings: praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, size kink, mommy kink, oral, strap-on, aftercare, smut, and fluff (I may have missed one)

You’re on your last nerve when you get to your afternoon class on Wednesday. 

Your car didn’t start in the morning so your girlfriend, Agatha, had to drop you off at work, which you’d never complain about, except she had still been asleep when this happened so you were almost late because she had to get ready. 

And then work was awful. You had a shift at the popular retail store in town and it seemed like every customer who came in was on a mission to personally ruin your day. 

From dissatisfaction with the prices to vomit all over the restroom floor, it seemed like nothing could go right. 

Agatha had been at work herself so you had to call one of your college friends to give you a ride after. 

And now you had to sit in a class on Personality Theory for the next three hours and listen to your professor drone off on tangents. You would be getting your tests back from last week though, and you were hoping you had done well. 

“Alright, before we get started, I’ll go ahead and pass out your exams. Once I call your name, you can come up and look at it,” your professor says and you anxiously tap your fingers on the desk while you wait for your turn. 

Finally, he says your name. Butterflies in your stomach, you walk to the front to look and it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. 

There must be something wrong, you don’t understand how you missed this many. 

Red ink stains the page and you have to clench your jaw together to keep your composure. Tears prick at your eyes as you hand the exam back to your professor and head back to your seat, burning with shame. 

It seems like it’s just one thing after another. 

You barely pay attention for the rest of class, head spinning with thoughts of how bad you did, how everything sucks, how you just want to go home. 

Agatha texts you a few times during the three hour time span, just checking in on you, but you don’t even respond. She always says that you get too wrapped up in your own brain and you know she’s right. You do let her know that you won’t need a ride home, not sure you could take the older woman’s softness right now. 

You just want to take a shower and lie in bed. 

Class finally ends and you order an Uber instead of asking a friend to take you home. When you get in these moods, you don’t want to talk to anyone. 

You grunt in response to the driver’s question of asking how you are and then the rest of the ride is spent in silence. It’s not often you get in such a foul mood, but when it does, it’s tough. 

When you make it through the front door of Agatha’s home, you immediately collapse on the couch and breathe in the blanket that still has her scent. She’ll be home soon and now you just want her to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be alright. 

You hear keys jingle in the front door maybe ten minutes later and you sit up on the couch expectantly, heartbeat picking up. You’ve been with Agatha for six months now and she still managed to have the same effect on you that she had at the beginning. 

“Hey, baby,” she calls out, seeing the lights on, and she makes her way to the living room to find you swaddled in her favorite blanket on the couch. She frowns, instantly able to tell something is wrong. Usually you get up to give her a kiss. “You okay?” 

And then it’s like a dam breaks. You start sobbing and telling her all the things that have gone wrong that day and she instantly sits down next to you, engulfing you into a hug and whispering that everything will be okay. 

She lets you cry for a bit, hand stroking your hair, making soothing sounds. Eventually, you calm down enough to take slow, shaky breaths. 

“I’m sorry, doll. Sounds like you had a rough day,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You nod in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You shrug while you think about it. And then you lean in and chastely kiss her lips. 

When you pull back, she’s smirking. 

“You want mommy to help you?” She coos and instantly, a fire awakens in your belly at the use of your favorite name for her. Your head bobs up and down eagerly but she tuts and grabs your jaw to hold it still. “Words, baby.” 

“Yes please, mommy,” you whisper. No one can make you feel as good as Agatha can. 

“Good girl,” Agatha hums and the fire gets worse. “What do you want?” 

You squirm on the couch, just looking at her, begging with wide eyes. 

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” You whine and grab her hand and bring it down to your shorts. “Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please,” you force out again. “Touch me, mommy.” 

Her grin is wicked as she lays you back down on the couch, positioning herself so she’s holding her weight above you. Your noses are almost close enough to touch. 

“Does my little baby want me to reward her like the perfect little angel that she is?” Agatha purrs and you gasp, feeling your head start to get fuzzy. She plays with the waistband of your shorts and your hips buck up involuntarily. You make a sort of strangled noise from your throat – all you can do, really – and she shushes you. “Just relax, doll. Let mommy take care of you.” You whimper as she kisses your nose and moves down your body to undress you. 

You feel like you’re on a different planet when Agatha pats your waist so you can lift yourself up for her to take your shorts and underwear off. 

“There we go, so good for me,” she says, leaving kisses against your thighs. You moan, senses heightened. You babble something incoherently and you can hear her chuckling at you. “Baby, you’re absolutely dripping for me.” 

Her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting wetness, and sounds are pulled out of your mouth by her administration. 

“Does that feel good, hon?” 

Your head lulls back on the couch and you try to say something to affirm her question. 

“Aw, is my little baby in subspace right now?” Something in the back of your mind tells you that you must be, but you’re too blissed out to answer. 

And then her tongue is on your pussy and you couldn’t say a word even if you tried. If you didn’t already feel like you were floating then, you sure do now. Your back arches off the couch as she sucks on your clit but her hands come up to hold you down. 

“Be a good girl for me and let mommy do all the work.” 

Your moans get louder as she keeps eating you out and you’ve never felt this good before. It’s like all your worries and stress and frustration that built up over the day are melting away to leave you in a puddle of pleasure. 

“Mommy, so close,” you slur, hands digging into the couch beneath you. Her teeth scrape against your clit and she moans into you and it sends you into an explosive orgasm. 

You’re not sure you’ve ever cum that hard. 

She licks you through it and you have to pull her away after a while because you become sensitive. 

Agatha comes up to kiss you, long and hard, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. 

“Do you want to try something new tonight, baby?” She asks once she pulls away and you nod eagerly before even asking what it is. You trust her more than anyone. “I’ll be right back.” She gives you one last parting kiss and quickly runs upstairs. 

She’s up there for a few minutes while you lay on the couch, still in a trance-like haze. 

And then she comes back down and your mouth falls open. 

Attached to her hips is the biggest strap-on you’ve ever seen. She must have just bought it. You had gotten to where you could take the toys you had pretty easily, but you are certain that this will stretch you out so much more than them. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, eyes widening as she comes back over to the couch. You can see that she’s holding lube in one hand. 

“Mommy wants to see if your tiny, little pussy can fit her big cock,” she says and a thrill runs through you despite yourself. “Might have to work you up to it.” 

Your legs part without thinking and she laughs. 

“So desperate for me, aren’t you? My perfect, little slut.” You gasp at the words, feeling yourself get even more wet. 

While you loved the praise from her, degradation almost turned you on more. 

“You have to relax, baby,” she reminds you, moving to kneel on the couch between your legs and pushing them even more open. She rubs your clit and slides two fingers in easily. You grind up on her fingers, trying to pull them in more. “Look at how well you take my fingers. So good for mommy. You can’t get enough of them, can you?” 

You shake your head and groan when she curls them just right. 

“Such a good whore for mommy,” she sighs. “Can you take another?” 

“Please,” you gasp out, walls clenching around the two already inside you. She pulls them and you feel empty, but that feeling is quickly gone when she pushes three in you. The stretch feels so good and your hips meet her every thrust, the pleasure in you already growing. 

And then it’s gone. Your head flies up to look at her wrapping the hand wet with you around her strap and coating it. And then she opens the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount in her other hand to also stroke the toy with. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Go slow, mommy,” you tell her, even though you know that she will. “You’re so big.” 

“You’re going to look so pretty, sweetheart, stretched around my big cock,” she says and positions the tip at your entrance. “Like a little, perfect slut. 

The first push steals all the air from your lungs. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You’ve never been so full in your life and you barely have any of it inside you. Agatha doesn’t move, just rubs small circles on your thighs and waits for you to tell her you’re okay. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust. It’s definitely easier in the headspace that you’re in right now. 

“Okay,” you say and Agatha obeys, slowly moving forward inside you. She stops when your breathing gets strangled and doesn’t move again until you’re back to normal. 

“God, your little pussy looks so good taking my big cock so well,” she grunts once she finally bottoms out. If your mind was clearer, you’d tease her about the size kink she so clearly has. “How are you doing, baby? Can I move?” 

“Please, mommy,” you beg, still feeling euphoric. Every drag of her cock against your walls now feels like heaven. She smirks and starts to move.

She starts slow at first, just short, slow strokes to make sure that you’re still comfortable, and then she starts to really fuck you. 

The pace Agatha sets is rough and bruising and you can hear the wet, squelching sounds that the toy makes as it pushes back inside you every thrust, a mix of your wetness and lube. 

“Mommy,” is all you can pant as she fucks into you over and over again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart, you’re taking my cock so well, such a perfect slut for mommy,” Agatha mutters, never slowing down once. If you were already in subspace before, you’re not sure you have a word for what state you’re in right now. There are not even semblances of thoughts in your head, there is only Agatha and the pleasure she is giving you. You can’t even remember what you were in such a bad mood about earlier. 

She reaches down to rub your clit again and you hear someone moan obscenely loudly. 

You think it might have been you. 

All you know is that you’re getting so close again you can taste it. She seems like she can tell because she somehow speeds up, which you didn’t think was possible. Little gasps are forced out of your mouth with every push and your walls are tightening so much around her that it makes it hard for her to thrust. 

“So good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Agatha chants, a hand reaching up to play with your nipple under your shirt. “So perfect, such a perfect slut, my perfect good girl. Cum for mommy, cum all over mommy’s big cock.” 

She angles her hips just right and rubs your clit hard and you spasm, back bowing off the couch. You’ve never felt pleasure this extreme; it feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience. All the tension in your body is gone and you pant heavily as Agatha pulls out of you. 

“You okay, baby?” She asks and you wheeze a laugh. 

“M’okay,” you say happily, a slow smile spreading onto your face. You can feel your head clearing with the loss of her touch. 

“Let me get a washcloth, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.” She gives you a kiss on your head and she’s back in what seems like seconds with a warm towel. You wince at the feeling of it between her legs but it helps. “Do you want to move to bed?” 

You nod, but you’re not actually sure if you can stand up based on the jelly feeling in your legs. Agatha seems to understand this without you saying anything and she scoops you off the couch bridal style and carries you up the stairs. 

You giggle and burrow your head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in and feeling her against you. 

“You did so good, baby,” she whispers. 

“Thank you, Agatha. I really needed that.” 

She pauses for a second in the hallway to peck your lips. “I know you did. I’m happy to help, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” 

Once in the bedroom, Agatha helps you into some comfy pajamas and makes you take sips of water from the bottle on her nightstand. You lay down and she pulls the covers over you both, pulling you close to her so she can wrap an arm around you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby, you know that?” She murmurs. “I love you so much.” She kisses you softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. 

“I love you too,” you mumble in-between kisses. No one has ever made you feel more loved than Agatha. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she continues and you blush. “I know you had a hard day today, but tomorrow will be better. You’re so strong. You’re my perfect girl. I love you.” 

And she keeps whispering the sweetest things into your ear, and you drift off to sleep in her arms, feeling like nothing was ever wrong. 

[leahwllmsn]

wait for me to come home

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 14.1k

You and Alexia have been best friends your whole lives. You’re adamant that moving away from Barcelona won’t change a thing between you. Alexia fears otherwise.

or classic best friends to lovers :)

“Can’t believe you’re really leaving.” It was midnight. You were sitting on your usual spot at the beach with Alexia, your head on her shoulder, both of you staring out at the sea. Despite the tightness in her chest, Alexia felt at ease with you next to her.

“I can’t believe it either,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

Alexia took a deep breath. You were only going away for a year, you said. It did nothing to calm the nerves she felt all over. One year, but that would be the longest you've been away from each other. Alexia still didn’t know how to feel, she didn’t know what to feel. She figured it still hadn’t sunk in, that you were leaving. Leaving her.

In the morning when Alexia would drop you off at the airport and you’d wave goodbye, that was probably when she’d feel everything. That was probably when the feeling of emptiness would set.

“I’ll call you everyday,” you said, hugging Alexia’s left arm tightly. “It will be like I’m still in Barcelona with you.”

Alexia chuckled, “You don’t have to call me everyday, cariño.”

You turned your head towards your best friend. “Are you saying you don’t want me to call everyday?”

“Don’t twist my words!” Alexia laughed. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel pressured to have to call me everyday. You’re a busy woman. I’m the one who waits for you whenever you have night shifts and I watch enough of your Meredith Grey shows to know how busy things at the hospital can be.”

You snickered at her mention of Grey’s Anatomy. Alexia would always complain about how unrealistic the show was whenever you put it on, yet she still stayed by your side and watched the damn thing. You placed your head back on her shoulder and sighed. “I don’t care if I’m busy, I’ll always make time for you.”

Alexia gulped. It was the way you said it, your voice small, yet your tone firm, as if a world where you didn’t have time for her was just impossible. “I love you, you know.”

Alexia furrowed her brows when you didn’t answer straight away like you always did. She was about to open her mouth to say something, when you pulled away and stood up, stretching your hand out for her to take.

“Do you want to head back?” Alexia asked.

“No,” you cleared your throat. “Let’s just walk around. The sand is making me itchy.”

“It’s because you’re wearing shorts,” Alexia took your hand and stood up. “I told you you can sit on my lap, you didn’t listen.”

You dusted off the sand from the back of your legs. “Didn’t want to.”

“Why? It’s comfy.”

“How would you know? You’ve never sat on your own lap before,” you said, your tone teasing.

“Idiota.” 

You kept walking along the beach, swinging your arms back and forth. It was quiet, but nice. Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence. Alexia felt her heart twinge when she realized that she didn’t know when she’d have another moment like this with you.

“Y/n,” Alexia spoke up after a few moments.

You hummed in reply.

This felt really nice, the way your hands were intertwined… Your shoulders bumping every now and then… Everything felt so right. Alexia took a deep breath and tried her best to not let herself get too emotional. She didn’t want to cry just yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she did.

“Ale, what were you going to say?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Alexia immediately shook her head, reminding herself not to let those words slip. She looked down and focused on the way her feet were kicking the sand with every step she took forward. “Nothing.”

You brought Alexia’s hand up to your lips and kissed the back of it. It was something you always did, but it still made Alexia’s heart drop every time. 

Maybe it was because the gesture had always made Alexia fall for you even more, or maybe it was because Alexia knew the platonic way it meant to you when Alexia wanted more than that.

“I know you, Ale,” you stopped walking and turned towards her. “You’re thinking about something.”

“Hm? What makes you think so?”

You poked Alexia’s forehead softly. “You have that crinkle between your brows. And you’ve been biting your lip for the past few minutes.”

Alexia hated the fact that you knew her so well, because it meant that she could never hide anything from you. The only thing Alexia successfully kept hidden were her feelings for you. Apart from that, you knew her better than anyone, and she was the same to you. 

Having known each other for more than two decades was a factor, but Alexia felt like it was simply because you were soulmates.

Alexia realized that no matter how hard she tried to move on from you, you would always be the one for her. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, she knew it would never change how she felt about you. She made her peace with it.

“It’s nothing,” Alexia said once more. “I swear.” You seemed to take the hint and didn’t pry further.

You tugged her hand and continued on walking, Alexia turning her head to the side every now and then, observing you. It was dark, the street lights were dim, and the moonlight wasn’t too bright, yet Alexia can still mention every little detail of your face—she had memorized them all after years of looking at you—from your warm eyes, to the delicate bridge of your nose, and the curve of your small lips. You were so beautiful that Alexia always felt breathless every time she looked at you, despite having known you since you were kids.

In that moment, with you humming along to a random song, your right hand interlocked with Alexia’s left one, there was nothing Alexia wanted more than to just confess her feelings for you. But she knew that you didn’t feel the same way, so telling you would just be pointless.

You turned your head to look at Alexia, catching her staring at you with that look on her face, the one look that you never could quite comprehend. When your lips formed a soft smile, Alexia couldn’t help but instantly reciprocate. Your smile was beautiful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your tone bashful.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m so, so in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts every time you smile.”

Alexia shrugged. “Just thinking about how I will miss you a lot.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “So that was what you were thinking about earlier?”

“No. I was thinking about how I’m so hopelessly in love with you.”

“You got me,” Alexia replied instead.

You sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll miss you too. At least you have a million pictures of me in your phone that you can look at if you’re missing me.”

Alexia laughed at that. “You better have a million pictures of me too.”

“Of course, I do,” you snickered. “Even you in diapers, I have them all.”

“No, you don’t!”

“I do! Eli sent them to me.” You had asked Eli for pictures of baby Alexia and she didn’t disappoint. They were adorable, especially the one where Alexia was learning how to crawl, wearing nothing but her diapers.

“You better not show it to anyone.”

“I’ll post it on Instagram before I leave.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, “You’re such a brat sometimes.”

“I’m such a brat?” you let go of Alexia’s hand to pull out your phone from your pocket. You stopped walking so Alexia stopped too, arms crossed, waiting for whatever it was you were doing.

After a few seconds of you scrolling silently through your phone, you flashed your screen to Alexia, showing the picture you mentioned before. “Want to say that again, Putellas?”

“You’re so annoying,” Alexia groaned. “I swear to god if you post that—”

“Watch me.” Your face was smug.

“Y/n,” Alexia said slowly, her tone full of warning.

You grinned, tapping something on the screen before you started running. The sound of your laughter getting smaller and smaller as you ran further away.

“That little—” Alexia cursed under her breath before she started running after you. “Tonta! Come back!”

“No!” Your figure was getting tinier and tinier that Alexia couldn’t help but laugh along.

Eventually, Alexia was able to catch up with you once you stopped running. Your hands were on your hips, trying to catch your breath.

“Why are you making me exercise at one in the morning?” Alexia asked, exhaling loudly.

You shrugged in reply, still out of breath. Alexia had always been the more athletic one out of the two of you. “Just wanted to run.”

“I’m so tired,” Alexia groaned. “Training was tough today.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew she was just being dramatic. “That was nothing. You need to exercise more, Ale.”

“The nerve!” Alexia barked out a laugh. “Who’s the athlete here?”

“Not you if that run tires you out.”

Alexia smiled fondly at you. You get on her nerves a lot. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now what did you do? Did you post that on Instagram? Because I’ll kill you, idiota.”

“Oh no, I’m sooo scared,” you mockingly said, a pout on your lips. “Oh nooo.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at you before she stepped forward and tickled your stomach.

“What are you—Alexia! Ale-Alexia stop it! Stop it right now!”

“Not until you delete that picture!” Alexia kept on tickling you. “Delete it!”

You were both laughing and Alexia didn’t show any signs of stopping until you tripped. You would’ve fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes, her arms immediately encircling around your waist.

You were staring at each other, your breath heavy from all the laughter that had long died out. Alexia felt dizzy. Your lips were so close to hers, Alexia could just lean forward and all her questions about how your lips taste would be answered. Alexia saw you blinking back a couple of times, she even swore she saw your eyes dart to her lips. 

The street lights were illuminating your features perfectly and Alexia could see your lips twitching slightly—as if you wanted to close the distance between you too.

Suddenly your phone rang, breaking you two apart. You cleared your throat and answered your phone. 

Alexia let out the deep breath she was holding, rubbing the back of her neck. She had a feeling that she would kiss you if the phone rang a second too late, which would be a disaster. She was thankful to whoever called, because she would never forgive herself if she ruined your friendship just because of her stupid feelings.

“Sorry,” you said. “That was Leila, just asking what time I’d be at the airport tomorrow.”

“Right.” There it was again, the unsettling feeling in her stomach every time Leila was mentioned. Alexia swallowed hard, trying her best not to show her jealousy. She was the one who introduced you to Leila when you joined a night out with the Barcelona girls. Alexia didn’t know that you two would hit it off. She didn’t know that Leila would move to Manchester and shockingly, you got offered a job at one of the best hospitals in Manchester.

It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke.

Alexia had to keep reminding herself that you weren’t hers, that you had every right to be with whoever you wanted. Alexia had no right to be jealous.

“That’s very cool, by the way,” Alexia said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “How you two are somehow going to the same country, same city.”

“Yeah, Codi said it was fate or something.” 

Fate? Me tripping over your leg at the playground when we were five was fate. Me immediately crying and you wiping my tears away until my mom came was fate. That was meant to happen because it made my mom invite you and your mom over for dinner, and it made us become best friends ever since. That was fate. Leila going to the same city as you was merely a coincidence. 

“Sure,” Alexia said, swallowing the bitterness in her mouth. “If that’s what you think.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or so and I’ll tell you if Leila and I are fated or not.”

Alexia didn’t answer, instead she just kept on staring at you, taking in the sight of you standing in front of her for the last time.

In the morning, you were leaving. You’d have a new life in Manchester, one that Alexia wouldn’t be a big part of, seeing how she was all the way in Barcelona. 

Alexia tried to bury deep, deep inside the pain that kept on reappearing every now and then, but it was getting increasingly difficult with the way you looked back at her—your eyes full of tenderness, as if you felt the same way Alexia did, as if it killed you to not be able to say exactly what you wanted to say. 

But Alexia shrugged it off. There was no time to think about these made-up scenarios in her head. You were leaving soon. 

Alexia stepped forward and hugged you as tight as she could, wanting to remember the way you felt in her embrace.

—

You kept your promise and called Alexia everyday. It lasted for two months before things became more hectic for the two of you and the daily calls stopped. In your defense, you really did try your best, but some days you had late night shifts and when you didn’t, you had date nights with Leila.

“Cariño! I haven’t heard your voice in two days! That is crazy. I was wondering if you were still alive.”

“Ha ha. So funny, Alexia.”

“Such a busy woman.”

Alexia was thriving even more if that was even possible, scoring more goals and assists, earning her more media duties and appearances. She was busy too.

You would catch her on your television sometimes, an interview or replays of her games. You were used to it, you knew Alexia before and after her rise to fame. But without the back and forth texts, without the calls and hearing her voice, without having her next to you, Alexia had never felt so out of reach.

“Hey, is it a bad time?”

“Hola, princessa. ‘m about to sleep. So tired. Call me tomorrow?”

“Okay, Ale. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you.”

Weeks with limited communication turned into months and the next thing you knew, you went from knowing everything about Alexia’s life, to finding out she had a girlfriend from your girlfriend.

Apparently Olga was a mutual friend. Leila had only good things to say about her.

You called Alexia that night, asking her about it. She didn’t have much to say, a tell-tale sign that she was uncomfortable, but why she was uncomfortable you couldn’t decipher it.

“Is she good to you at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she make you happy?”

“Sí.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

For the first time since you’ve known her, you felt like a stranger in Alexia’s life. You couldn’t tell exactly when things changed. It must’ve been the depleting texts sent each day, the less and less phone calls until it went down to none at all for a week or two, and when you two did have time for a call, it felt… awkward.

The first argument started when Alexia casually joked about how you were so busy and you didn’t have time for her anymore, how you have a more exciting life now in Manchester. She was laughing but you just got off a twelve hour shift at work and you were exhausted. 

“Like you’re not the same?” you fired back, feeling a headache coming through.

Instead of changing the subject like you hoped she would, Alexia rebutted your claim. “I do have time for you.”

You let out a laugh. “Between football and your new girlfriend? You don’t, Ale. Don’t act otherwise.”

“Wow. Okay.”

You seemed to instantly snap out of it at the tone of her voice. Alexia sounded hurt and for a second, you felt guilty for starting a fight. But what she said hurt you too, because even though she said it in a joking way, you knew she meant it.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m not in the mood.”

“Right, yeah. Bye.”

The arguments seemed to snowball after that first one. Your calls were still rare, but when you or Alexia forced yourselves to call the other, it didn’t end well.

That should be the first warning sign for you—how you felt forced to call her when you used to want to hear her voice all the time.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine.” 

“Can you at least act like you’re excited to talk to me?”

“If we’re just going to fight, Ale, you shouldn’t have called.”

“Whatever. Good night.”

The next thing you knew, there wasn’t a call that went by without some small, unimportant argument.

It got worse when you told her you weren’t staying for only one year as originally planned. You liked it here in Manchester. You had a good job and you were surrounded by wonderful people.

Alexia ignored you for the whole day only to call you early in the morning, her voice raspier than usual. You knew that meant she spent the night crying.

“You don’t know when you’ll be back?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back in Barcelona, no.”

“How am I supposed to go for… what? Another year without you? Two years? More?”

“You’ve been doing just fine so far. I don’t see the problem, Ale.”

“I miss you every night that you're not here. I don’t think that's doing ‘fine’.”

“Oh c’mon. We haven't been the same.”

“Just because we haven’t been talking as much doesn’t mean that I love you less, but whatever.”

It got even worse when you were supposed to fly back to Spain for Alexia’s birthday, but you had to cancel at the last minute because you were stuck with an emergency case at the hospital.

In hindsight, it was a stupid reason, something you could totally resolve by having one of your co-workers take over for you. But your mind went into overdrive, you somehow convinced yourself that you couldn’t leave the country.

Maybe it was out of fear of seeing Alexia again, not wanting to see how the distance had changed your dynamics.

Alexia’s reaction when you told her you weren’t going to be there hurt more than you could admit. 

“You’d never miss my birthday and I’d never miss yours. That was a promise.”

“We were seven, Alexia.”

Alexia didn’t say anything else and you didn’t need to see her face to know how dejected she was. You ignored the pain in your chest, convincing yourself that you were doing the right thing. You didn’t need to fly for more than two hours for someone’s birthday.

The old you would’ve screamed at you if she knew what you were doing. Alexia wasn’t just someone. She was… she was your everything and more. 

When midnight rolled around and you would usually be next to Alexia, wishing her a happy birthday with a present in hand, and instead you were all the way in Manchester, you felt that maybe you were dumb to let the arguments get in your head.

You took a deep breath and texted her a happy birthday. You weren’t sure if she would pick up if you called. 

Alexia didn’t reply to your text until noon that day, saying how she was off to celebrate with her family as usual and she’d call you after dinner. She didn’t mention Olga, but you knew she was there from Alba.

You sat in your apartment alone in the dark, Leila was out with her friends. It was only then that it dawned on you how lonely you were. You couldn’t imagine how Alexia was feeling—that was, if she still cared about you.

You had been there for Alexia’s birthday ever since she turned six years old. You didn’t think that you’d ever miss one, ever. But here you were.

It was weird to see Olga in place of you, seated between Eli and Alba as she grinned at Alexia blowing the candles out.

That used to be you.

Instead, you were in a different country, wishing you were at a place where someone else had claimed your spot. 

When it was way after dinner time and you still hadn’t heard from Alexia even though she said she’d call, you decided to send her a text. Something short and straight to the point: can I call you?

Alexia didn’t reply and you fell asleep with a feeling so hollow in your chest, you wondered if love was supposed to hurt this bad.

stop making promises you can’t keep, alexia

The loud ringing of your phone woke you up. You didn’t think that you’d see an incoming call from Alexia this early.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hello to you too, Ale.” Your tone was curt. In your defense, you had just woken up. 

“You’re picking a fight,” Alexia stated. “I don’t know why, but it’s not nice.”

“Picking a fight?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Is this about my text? I was simply telling you to stop making promises, because you can’t keep them. You told me you’d call me, you didn’t.”

You said it so accusatory that Alexia felt a sudden rush of anger. “You’re being ridiculous. I fell asleep. I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”

“I’m being ridiculous? Is it not me who had to wait for hours for your call?”

Alexia let out a bitter laugh. “Saying all that like I don’t usually have to wait hours and hours for you too?”

“Well, you’re the one with the empty promises. You promised me that things won’t be different between us, well. Look at us now.”

“That’s not entirely my fault and you know it. If we’re playing that game, you said you’d call me everyday, you said you’d always have time for me. Look at us now, cariño!”

Alexia never raised her voice at you. That was how you knew things were truly different now. “I was busy. Some days I have twelve hour shifts, Alexia,” you replied simply, not wanting to raise your voice too.

“Busy,” Alexia scoffed at you. “But you still have time to watch Leila’s games every week.”

You immediately felt defensive at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “Why are you dragging Leila into this?”

Alexia was about to give you a piece of her mind, about how having a quick call with her wasn’t as time consuming as watching a 90-minute football game, but you still had more to say.

“Leila has nothing to do with us turning into… into this mess!” So much for not wanting to raise your voice at her. “Besides, you have Olga too. You spent all your time with her and forgot the plans we made first.” You fired back at her, a part of you hated that Olga took your place, that Olga was able to be in Barcelona next to Alexia, doing all the things you used to do.

People would think you were jealous, but you weren’t. You just didn’t like her. You didn’t like that she was taking up too much of Alexia’s time. That wasn’t jealousy.

“What plans? If I forgot something, then tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader, Y/n.”

“What was I supposed to do? Ask you to pick between Olga and I? Why would I do that when I know you’ll pick her!”

(You might sound a little crazy. But you wouldn't admit that to anyone. In your defense, it was hard being demoted to second choice.)

“What’s your problem with Olga?” Alexia accused you, she knew you all too well.

“I have no problem with her. What's your problem with Leila?”

“Don’t change the subject. I was once your best friend, I know you more than anyone, and I know how you usually are when you don’t like someone.”

The use of past tense shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew things had changed between you. “Glad to know you don’t think we’re best friends anymore.”

Alexia let out an exhale. “You haven’t been acting like you’re my best friend for sometime. Don’t act all innocent.”

“Even though we haven’t been talking much, you’re still my person. But since I don’t seem to matter to you anymore, I’ll just…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for all of this.

Alexia could feel that familiar tug in her heart, the feeling of wanting to make everything in the world right for you.

But for once, she casted it aside. The anger she had at you overpowering everything. “I don’t think I matter to you anymore either, so I guess we’re even.”

There was a pause before you utter your next words. “You matter the most to me.” 

Alexia could only scoff. “Sure, you have done such a great job of showing that I matter to you—you couldn’t even spare five minutes of your precious 24 hours to talk to me!”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that you were guilt-tripping Alexia when you had your faults too.

None of you said anything else. For once, in the two decades that you’ve known each other, you both didn’t know what to say—had nothing else to say.

When all Alexia could come up with was “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re really hurting me this time,” you knew you had to put an end to all of this.

“I think we should just… take a break from all of this.”

Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. You didn’t think you had it in you to say those words either. Even though the conversations between you two had diminished, saying that you wanted to stop talking to each other felt so… final. 

“What?”

“I’m tired, Ale.”

“You don’t think I’m tired too?” you could hear the urgency in her voice. “What does that even mean? ‘Take a break from all this’? You want a break from me, you mean? What ever happened to ‘you’re my person, Alexia?’” Alexia mimicked your voice. She was getting angrier by the second, you could tell. 

“You told me I’m hurting you! I’m tired of hurting you. I didn’t even realize it, Ale. I never wanted that. All we’ve been doing is fighting each other. I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t see a solution to this, I really don’t.”

Neither of you knew where it went wrong. One day you two were fine—you two loved each other more than anything in this world—the next thing you knew, you couldn’t hold up a conversation where it didn’t end with exasperated voices and tired sighs.

It was the distance, you assumed.

You and Alexia were attached at the hip. The only time you two went separate ways was when she had away games and international duties.

It was a two and a half hour flight between Barcelona and Manchester, but neither of you had made the trip to see one another. Alexia seemed even more far away as the days went by.

She had Olga to turn to now, you could feel her not needing you anymore. 

It was the distance that took Alexia away from you, you would convince yourself that. It wasn’t the nameless feeling in your chest that felt a lot like yearning, jealousy, and regret all at once.

You ended the call, not knowing whether you’d ever talk to Alexia again.

—

Losing someone that had always been a constant in your life was devastating.

It was miserable. You were the most miserable you had ever been.

Leila kept on asking you what was wrong, your friends in Barcelona updating her that Alexia was in the same state as you. Not that you cared.

You didn’t know how to live without Alexia in your life, but you’d manage. You’d learn. This wasn’t the end of the world.

You steered clear of your social media, not wanting to see any posts of her from your mutual friends or from the Barcelona account.

Leila and a couple of your friends eventually stopped asking you about what went wrong with Alexia, to which you were glad, but the emptiness you felt when no one brought Alexia up to you was starting to make you uneasy.

Alexia used to be in all your conversations, she was a huge part of your life. Now it felt like she was never a part of it.

A few months passed by, your birthday rolled around and you assumed—you wished—that Alexia would break this silence between you two. It was your birthday after all.

But you should’ve known how stubborn she was. 

When you stayed up until the clock strikes midnight and there was no text from Alexia, when she used to pride herself on being the first person to wish you a happy birthday, you knew you had lost her for good. 

You spent your birthday with pain in your chest like no other. You just wanted Alexia back. 

Your friends in Manchester knew something was up with you, Leila figured that it was mostly because of Alexia. None of them could understand why it was upsetting you so much.

That night, you sat on your balcony and looked through the folder of pictures on your phone that contained decades worth of memories of Alexia. With each scroll, you could feel more tears running down your cheeks.

There was a photo of you when you were ten, Alexia next to you laughing at how ugly your haircut was.

Another photo was of you at prom, Alexia as your plus one. Despite the countless promposals you received, you’d rather have Alexia as your date than the stinky boys at your school.

When Alexia got called up for the national team for the first time, you were there with Eli to watch her score her first international goal. The photo you had was of her carrying you on her back. It was after the game ended and Alexia had too much energy that she had to carry you around the field.

The next photo was of Alexia sleeping at the library, you were studying for your exams when you were in University and Alexia had the day off. To her, nothing was better than spending it with you, even if it meant that she had to sit there and watch you study boring stuff. Alexia always had faith that you were going to be the best doctor in Barcelona.

You had a photo of when you flew across continents to watch her win the World Cup, grinning next to Alexia as she kissed your cheek, trophy in hand.

A photo of when she tore her ACL and you were there at her bedside as she was preparing to go into surgery. Alexia didn’t let go of your hand until she was in front of the operating room.

A photo of you and Alexia in a locker room, both in Barcelona jerseys. It was the day before your exam, but it was also the Champions League final. You brought your textbook and Alba kept on laughing when you studied during half-time.

Most photos were of Alexia doing mundane things. They meant the most to you because of how carefree she looked in all of them.

Alexia making stupid faces at you as you grocery shopped together.

Alexia laughing next to you in the driver seat as she drove you to work.

Alexia cooking dinner for the two of you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration as she read the ingredients from her new cookbook.

Alexia sipping coffee in your favourite coffee shop in Barcelona. They served the best banana bread, you never wanted to share them with anyone, not even Alexia.

Alexia watching replays of her games on her iPad. She was laying down on your couch, your throw blanket draped over her feet.

Alexia smiling at you with that look.

As you reached the last picture you had on the album, a photo of Alexia taken by you the morning you left for Manchester—she was on the driver seat, a wistful smile on her face as she turned to look at you during a red light—you suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe.

You were in love with Alexia.

You were so desperately in love with Alexia, you had always been, ever since you let her become your first kiss.

You didn’t like any of Alexia’s relationships, because you were jealous. You thought none of her girlfriends could treat her well, no one lived up to your expectations. You felt like you were the only one who could understand her.

You hugged the blanket around yourself tighter, the gust of wind making your teeth chatter. You wanted Alexia there next to you, she would know that you were never a fan of the cold, always making sure that you were bundled up and warm.

You had a million thoughts running through your mind, mostly about how you missed all the signs of being in love with your best friend. Although deep down, you’ve always known that what you felt for Alexia was too intense to be strictly platonic. 

But when someone kissed you, having it meant the world to you, only for her to wish it never happened, you felt like it was justifiable that you decided to lock your feelings away.

Now that you’ve uncovered them, you didn’t know how to go on and pretend that you were fine with having Alexia out of your life.

—

Barcelona was playing against Manchester City at the Etihad. This wasn’t something you could get out of, you needed to be there to support Leila.

You had some friends traveling to Manchester to watch the match, you decided to sit with them instead of your usual spot at the Friends and Family section. You wanted—no, you needed someone to distract you from the person you hadn’t seen in almost two years.

You ignored your friends’ teasing at your Man City jersey instead of the Blaugrana colour (with Alexia’s name and number) you usually wore. They didn’t mention Alexia to you, having figured out the fallout, but a part of you wanted them to. You wanted them to tell you about Alexia and how she’d been doing.

Your resolve almost crumbled, Alexia’s name on the tip of your tongue. If it wasn’t for the players entering the field and the loud cheers from the audience, you would’ve asked them about Alexia.

Alexia, who was no longer blonde apparently. You saw her run to the field, her brown hair in a neat ponytail. Even from afar you could still see her smile. You hated that you still felt like jumping off a cliff at the sight.

You hated that your gaze was always drawn to her instead of your girlfriend.

Later when the game ended and Barcelona eventually won, you went to meet Leila at the barrier, whispering how great she played despite it all. 

You almost accepted her invite to a night out with some of the Barcelona girls. The temptation to see Alexia again was so strong, but you didn’t think you were ready yet. 

You saw her anyway, in your dreams that night. Maybe it was that deep yearning that caused you to text her as soon as you woke up.

good game yesterday. always proud of you

—

Your reconciliation didn’t happen all at once. 

You didn’t magically go back to being the same as you were before (there was some apprehension from both parties), but it was close enough. 

It was scarily easy to integrate Alexia back into your life even though you hadn’t talked to each other for so long.

First it was the likes on Instagram posts, or a reply to your Instagram story of gloomy Manchester sky, or a comment on Alexia’s post of her match day outfit.

Then the texts started. A simple text from Alexia telling you that she was through to the finals of the Euros. Or a text from you containing a picture of your cat, Mr. Oreo. They were evenly spaced out throughout your week, it wasn’t too often that it felt like you two were rushing back into being friends, but it wasn’t too scarce to leave you wanting more.

It was just perfect.

The striking difference now was that you were letting yourself fall for her. Every joke she made, every selfie she sent you, you took your time to admire her and let yourself fall even more.

Now that you were very much aware of your feelings, it didn’t feel right to continue what you had with Leila.

You loved her, but you must not have loved her enough because you were still able to think of another woman.

You ended it with Leila on a Tuesday. She didn't have a game until Sunday and you figured that was enough time for her to not be distracted. Surprisingly, Leila took it well, as if she knew this was coming all along.

And it felt like the universe was laughing at you, because after you broke up with Leila, you received a text from Alexia.

I’m getting married

You felt your heart drop. You had to put your phone back in your pocket because your hands were trembling badly.

You were suddenly desperate to do something, anything, before it was too late.

Even though a part of you felt like it was already too late.

—

Alexia arrived at the airport three hours early. She spent those three hours walking from one end to the other, flowers in hand. Her hands shaking and her mind racing with the thoughts of finally seeing you again.

She passed by the exact spot you said your goodbyes two years ago, both of you holding back your tears as you exchanged promises that things would be okay. The moment you walked away and went out of sight, Alexia finally let her tears fall, feeling that a part of her left alongside you.

In the middle of pacing around the airport, Olga called, and Alexia felt guilty because her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you. She instantly buried the feeling of discomfort the moment Olga talked about their wedding.

Alexia was getting married to Olga. Her mind shouldn’t picture you the moment weddings are mentioned. She closed her eyes and bid Olga goodbye, not remembering what her fiancé called her about. 

You were her best friend. Nothing more. Why was it that even after years apart, her heart still ached and yearned for you?

Hours later, when you texted her to let her know that you’ve landed, Alexia made her way to the gate. She stood there, flowers tightly in hand, tapping her foot anxiously. 

You two had been slowly rebuilding your friendship. You texted each other, but never a phone call, and Alexia was nervous to hear your voice again after going such a long time without it.

Alexia was the first to spot you. You were dragging your suitcase, looking from side to side, as if urgently searching for something. And the moment your eyes found hers, your entire body lit up—the whole airport could tell that you finally found what you were looking for.

Everything drowned out and to Alexia nothing else seemed to matter anymore, her only focus was on you. On how your eyes shone with happiness and how your lips slowly curved into the smile that Alexia had missed so much. When you were finally in front of her, something clicked within her, and every hurt, every anger, every sadness she had felt because of you disappeared and she was left with the feeling of nothing but love and fondness for the girl standing in front of her. 

You were here and no matter how hard Alexia tried, she couldn’t feel half of what she felt with you with anyone else.

“Alexia, hi.”

Alexia didn’t say anything back, instead she immediately embraced you, hugging you with everything she had. She leaned down and buried her face in the crook of your neck, closing her eyes and squeezing you even more—just savoring the moment of finally having you there again. 

Alexia thought back to the last time she hugged you, trying to remember every single detail—from the way your arms were wrapped around Alexia’s neck, to the way your breath tickled her ear—trying to decide whether anything had changed. 

And when you kissed the side of Alexia’s head, laughing into her ears because she wouldn’t let go, Alexia decided that no matter how many years had passed and no matter how many arguments you two got into, your hug still felt the same.

—

Alexia,

The moment that has always replayed in my head for years is the night of your 18th birthday. We went to the beach after dinner and crashed someone’s party, and we both got really drunk. It was fun but the thing that made that night so memorable was because it was the first time someone kissed me and that person was you. 

The moment it happened, it felt like everything fell into place, you know? I understood why even my five year old self hated seeing you cry and just wanted to protect you from everything so you’ll never cry again. I understood why out of all the people in the room, my eyes always search for yours. I love you, Alexia. It’s always been you.

I was the happiest I’ve ever been that night. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world for being able to be in your arms.  

But when you woke up the next day saying that you wished that night never happened, it felt like the missing puzzle piece in my heart that you completed the night before disappeared again. 

Ever since then, I tried so hard to fill this gaping hole in my heart. I made it my life’s mission to go out there and meet the most perfect girl in the world just to try and replicate what I felt for you. But every time I’m with someone, every time I’m face to face with some perfect girl, your face appears and I’m reminded that they’re not you.

I love you, Alexia. I love you more with all the ups and downs we’ve had. I love every part of you and I love you with every beat of my heart.

I think I’ve always known that I was in love with you. I was just never brave enough to label it as that. So I didn’t. It wasn’t until recently that I realized: I couldn’t just sit here and watch you marry someone else.

You could call it selfish, but I wasn’t going to risk the slightest possibility of you feeling the same way that I do.

I know Olga loves you, but I also know that she’ll never love you as much as I do. 

To quote your favourite poet:

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,

I love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,

except in this form in which I am not nor are you,

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,    

so close that your eyes close with my dreams”

If you think that this is all wrong, please just ignore it, and I promise I’ll never talk about this again. But if you somehow feel the same, meet me at our usual spot at the beach tonight, 10 p.m.

Yours always, 

y/n

—

It wasn’t like you didn’t know this would happen. This was why you never wanted to risk your friendship because of some silly feelings. You knew Alexia wouldn’t feel the same, your confession would go to waste, and you would be sitting on the beach, alone at night, waiting for someone who was never going to show up.

You thought of calling Alexia, to ask her what she thought of your letter. But you decided against it, this was humiliating enough.

Maybe Alexia was embarrassed? Maybe she felt bad for you. Maybe she didn’t know how to talk to you now, knowing that you had all these feelings for her. Or maybe Alexia just didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

You let out a big sigh and buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All those years of friendship… that was all it was: friendship. You should’ve known.

You checked your phone again. Nothing. No texts or calls.

You let out a laugh. Alexia wasn’t stuck in traffic nor was she late, she was simply not coming.

Feeling your eyes start to well up with tears, you took a deep breath before standing up. You didn’t plan on going back to your parents’ house just yet, stupidly enough a part of you still had hope that Alexia was going to show up. You needed to walk around and distract yourself, sitting in the same spot that contained so many memories of her wasn’t helping.

You took another glance at your phone, and when there was still nothing, you wished your heart wasn’t so weak when it came to Alexia.

—

Alexia never believed in fate or anything.

To be fair, she was five years old and watching movies where the princess always ended up with the prince and lived happily ever after seemed too good to be true.

That was until she met you.

You, who had your little legs outstretched on the grass as you snack on your cookies. You, who didn’t hesitate to wipe away Alexia’s tears when she tripped on your legs. You, who kept on apologizing even though it wasn’t your fault that Alexia wasn’t looking at where she was going, but you were trying to make her feel better.

You had been a constant in her life ever since then, with your wise wisdoms and never-ending ability to make Alexia laugh.

Alexia then understood that fate and destiny really did exist, because it was fate that brought Alexia to the playground at that exact moment—at that exact second—so she could meet you.

When Alexia lost you, she didn’t want to believe in fate anymore, because why was the universe so cruel that it left her on the floor of her apartment, crying and begging for you to come back.

You disappeared from Alexia’s life and Alexia saw firsthand how the world became gloomier, how her days seemed to drag on longer without your presence. 

Just when Alexia completely lost all hope, the universe had other plans, and it was destiny that she left her phone in her hotel room that morning, because if she didn’t, her phone would be in her pocket as she was thrown to the swimming pool because Vicky and Esmee decided that playing a prank on their captain was a brilliant idea. Her phone would be ruined and she wouldn’t be greeted with a text message from you.

A simple text telling Alexia that you were proud of her, but it left her breathless because she hadn’t talked to you in a year. You two had no contact for a year, yet she was still proud of you. Like always.

Fate, destiny, the universe, and all of that had brought you to her, took you away, then brought you back.

It was also fate that made Alexia reach down into her purse and open the envelope you’d given her before parting ways earlier—something tugging in her heart, screaming at her to read the letter you wrote to her, even though she told herself that she would do it after you’ve left the city.

And sometimes, the universe had a sense of humour, because at that moment, as Alexia finished reading the last sentence of your handwriting, her fiancé appeared in the doorway of their shared bedroom.

“Alexia?”

“I’m sorry.”

—

The only thought Alexia had as she drove over the speed limit was to hope that you were still there, waiting for her. Just like what you had been doing all of these years.

All of those wasted years where you two could be together if it weren’t for the doubts that forbade you from truly loving each other the way you were meant to.

“You’ve always loved her more than anything, Alexia. Even when she’s a thousand miles away, even when you two weren’t on speaking terms… She’s still the one you love the most. I could never compete with her.”

From this whole thing, Alexia was just sorry that she had to drag someone else into her mess. She would never forgive herself for saying “yes” to someone, knowing that her heart wasn’t fully in it.

“Olga, I never meant to make you feel like you were at constant competition with her. I really do love you.”

“But not as much as you love her.”

“I never planned on staying in love with her forever, I really did try to love someone else—with you. And I did. All these years together, I meant everything I said and everything I did.”

“I’ve always known that she would always come first to you, yet I still convinced myself that that would change one day. I know it made me a shitty person, but I was happy when you fought with her, because I thought that was finally it, you know? Finally you’d move on from her. But not even the fall out made you love her any less.”

Alexia would take whatever life will throw at her for hurting someone so deeply like she did to Olga.

But the only thing she could do right now was to find you and hoped that you were the happy ending fate had in store for her. The happy ending she’d dreamt of all this time.

—

When Alexia couldn’t find you at the beach, she figured she was too late. She tried calling and texting, but you weren’t replying to any of it.

So she went to your parents’ place, taking a slight detour to your favourite florist, picking up the bouquet they had ready, not wanting to waste another second away from you. Alexia figured you must’ve left thinking that she was rejecting you. Even if Alexia wasn’t in love with you anymore, she wouldn't have just let you sit there all alone, fearing the worst. She needed you to know that.

Your childhood home was dark and quiet. All the lights were off and Alexia remembered that your parents were in Mollet del Vallés, visiting your grandparents.

You weren’t here but Alexia wasn’t going anywhere else. She would just be there and wait for you—she had waited decades for you, a few hours would mean nothing. She sat down on the pavement, not caring how dirty her jeans were going to be, and pulled out her phone from her pocket. She called the only person she could think of.

It took a few more tries for Mapi to pick up, and once the call got connected, Alexia spoke into the phone, “I have a problem.” 

Mapi’s voice was groggy. “It’s midnight, you dumbass. Can you call me later?”

“No, this is urgent.”

Alexia can feel Mapi roll her eyes on the other end of the line, “When Ingrid kills me for being too noisy and waking her up, I’m blaming it on you.”

“Well, in that case, I hope she does wake up then.”

“Tonta.”

“María,” Alexia let out a tired exhale. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

Mapi groaned in reply. “Estúpida. I was asleep, how should I know?”

Alexia pressed her hand over her eyes and groaned, “I think I screwed up.”

Just when Alexia was about to elaborate further, even though she knew Mapi was half asleep, someone called out her name. Someone whose voice sounded exactly like you.

“Ale?” 

Alexia quickly opened her eyes. It really was you.

“Y/n.”

And there you were, standing in front of Alexia, head cocked to the side as if trying to figure out why Alexia was sitting there in front of your house at midnight.

Alexia quickly put her phone back to her ear, “Uhm, I’ll call you back—Tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, María.” As soon as she ended the call, she quickly stood up.

Your arms were crossed over your chest, you were making yourself smaller, you looked so unsure of yourself that Alexia wanted nothing but to hug you and tell you that she loved you more than she’d ever loved anyone.

But all you had was apprehension written all over your face. Alexia understood. You must’ve thought that by her not showing up, Alexia didn’t feel the way you did. “What are you doing here?”

Alexia gulped. Now that you were in front of her, Alexia didn’t know what to say. “Did we really kiss on my 18th birthday?” Alexia blurted out.

“What?” You were confused and still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole thing. You couldn’t process what she said.

“I don’t remember it,” Alexia continued. “I swear. I swear on Messi.”

“What?” Your tone was full of surprise. “You don’t remember?” 

“No,” Alexia sighed, looking at you wistfully. “I would never stop talking about it if I did.”

You went silent for a few seconds, your face full of confusion. Alexia let you take it all in. “You don’t remember,” you stated in a questioning tone. “But you said you wished it never happened.”

“I couldn’t have said that, because I don’t remember—”

“Oh my god, you don’t remember?” It was like you finally realized what that meant. “Oh my god,” you groaned, placing your hands over your face. “I spent years thinking—I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with you because you rejected me—”

“I didn’t!” Alexia interjected. “I would never– I was so hopelessly in love with you.”

You looked at her and your face turned paler if that was even possible. Your mouth agape, as if you wanted to say something but you couldn’t. How could you? When your best friend was telling you that she—

“Wait,” you realized something. “Did you say ‘was’? As in past tense?” You felt the hope that grew plummet to the bottom of the stomach. You knew it was too good to be true. “Is that why you didn’t meet me earlier?”

“No… No, Y/n, I read your letter too late. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I would’ve dropped everything in a heartbeat to get to you.”

“Oh.” 

Suddenly you were laughing. Your laughter echoing throughout the empty neighbourhood. Alexia stared at you, unsure of what this meant but she couldn’t help the growing happiness in her heart with every laugh that escaped your lips. “I should’ve just texted you, right? I wanted to be romantic with the letter.”

Alexia shot you a comforting smile. At least fate brought you both here, to this moment.

After your laughter died down, you took a hesitant step forward. “But… do you really feel… the way that I do?”

Alexia sighed, being the one to close the gap between you and took your hands in hers. “If my years and years of pining weren't obvious, I feel the same. I’m in love with you. I still am. I never stopped, if we’re being honest. I broke things off with Olga, it wasn’t right to stay with her if my heart belonged to someone else. She deserves way better than some girl who was too much of a coward to confess that she’s in love with her best friend and ended up stringing her along for years, knowing that she would never love her the same.”

“So you…” you were at loss for words.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Alexia continued. “This whole thing is a mess. I need to cancel my wedding preparations, I have to talk to a lot of people, but the only thing I know right now is that… I can’t let you go again. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it. I’ve been sure of it ever since we were kids. I won’t love someone as much and as deeply as I love you. So… yeah.”

You didn’t reply to Alexia’s statement, instead you placed one hand on the back of Alexia’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Once your lips met, Alexia’s mind went to two things: how she never wanted to kiss anyone else in her life and how exactly did she forget your soft lips when they tasted like heaven? 

Alexia’s hands wandered to rest on your neck, caressing the smooth skin that felt electric under her touch. Alexia’s mind was full with thoughts of you. Your lips on hers. Your hands around her waist. Your perfume engulfing her. Your nose brushing against hers. Your laugh vibrating against her lips.

Your lips curved upwards into a grin and Alexia could taste the happiness on your lips. She leaned forward once more for a peck on your smile and when you scrunch your nose in response, Alexia pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“That was… everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” Alexia hoped that you couldn’t hear how erratic her heart was beating. 

“We can take things slow,” you whispered against her lips.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to take it slow,” Alexia whispered back. “But… I agree. We don’t have to rush this. We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.”

Suddenly your eyes drifted to the flowers on the pavement, raising your eyes at that. “Is that supposed to be for me?”

Alexia’s eyes widened when she realized the discarded flowers, quickly taking them and shoving them to you. “Uhm. Yes. These… these are for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you replied, taking the flowers from her but your gaze never leaving her face. “Thank you.”

She pouted when she realized you hadn’t even glanced at it. “You didn’t even look at it!”

You grinned at her, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around her waist. Your face back in its favourite spot against her neck. “I bet they’re beautiful, just like you.”

“Okay, flirt.” 

Alexia quickly stepped back when she noticed that the flowers were squeezed in between you two. “You’re ruining my flowers.”

“I’m not,” you scoffed. You looked down and scrunched your nose at the sight. At least they still had the beautiful pink colour intact, your favourite. “Okay, kind of. But that was your fault.”

Alexia took your hand that wasn’t holding the flower and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “How was it my fault?” 

“I couldn’t resist hugging you.”

Alexia laughed and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. Swaying you side to side and sighing in content. Everything felt good. It felt like everything had fallen into place.

“Now you’re ruining the flowers even more!” your voice muffled with the way your face was squeezed into Alexia’s neck.

“I’ll get you new ones, mi amor. In fact, I’ll get you the whole shop.”

You laughed into her neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “I’m holding you on to that.”

Alexia hummed. “I love you, cariño. I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you replied. 

“Say it back,” Alexia prodded, placing her cheek on the top of your head.

“Huh?”

“I… love… you.” Alexia said slowly.

Alexia felt your giggles tickle her neck.

“Princessa, say it back.”

“You already know the answer anyway.”

“Mi vida.”

“Alexia. I love you too.”

Alexia did know the answer—she had heard you say it a million times over and over. Despite that, Alexia still wanted to hear it a million times more.

—

Alexia had been to Manchester before but it was still hard to keep up with how busy the airport was. She couldn’t spot you—not at first. All she could see was people rushing to get somewhere despite it being the early hours of the morning. 

Alexia dragged her luggage to a secluded corner and pulled out her phone to give you a call. She put her phone to her ear and kept on looking around while waiting for you to pick up.

It was on the second ring when Alexia spotted you. You were sandwiched between people and you looked so small that Alexia would’ve missed you if she didn’t see the giant flower bouquet you were holding. 

Once you answered the call, Alexia laughed into the speaker, feeling her heart grow ten times bigger with the amount of love she felt for you. Alexia still couldn’t believe she was finally here, just a few steps away from the person she had missed so much.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” Alexia sighed in content. How did she spend so long convincing herself that she would be fine settling for someone other than you? “That bouquet is way bigger than you.”

As soon as Alexia said that, she saw you move your head in all directions trying to locate her. “You’re here. Where are you?”

“I am here.” Alexia stated, enjoying how clueless you looked. 

“Alexia.” 

“You always complain about how tall I am, how can you not see me?” Alexia kept her eyes on you—from your furrowed eyebrows to the small pout on your lips, one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other holding the flowers. She laughed even more when you kept on whining and your pout kept getting bigger as each second passed.

“You are annoying,” you groaned. “Can you just tell me where you are? I’m hungry.”

“Not because you miss me?” Alexia teased. “You only want me because I spoil you with lots of food.”

“Yes, that’s true!” you laughed. “So hurry up and tell me where you are so we can get food, Alexia Putellas Segura.”

“Ooh she’s using my full name now.” 

“It’s because I’m getting impatient!”

Alexia laughed, finally dragging her luggage and walking towards your direction.

Once she was behind you, Alexia ended the call and tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. Alexia chuckled to herself at how ridiculous she was for finding everything you did adorable.

You immediately turned around and once recognition settled in, you squealed and jumped to hug her. “Alexia! You’re blonde again!”

“Mi amor! I missed you.” 

When you broke apart, Alexia’s eyes started to well with tears. You were finally in front of her, smiling at her with your big smile and sparkly eyes. Two months without having you near felt so long.

“Baby,” you cooed. “Why are you crying?” 

“Just emotional,” Alexia squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. “I missed your stupid face.”

“No one will be able to guess that you're the crybaby in this relationship.”

Alexia scowled at you. She would never admit that she cried more than you. Besides, no one would be able to verify this fact because she never cried in front of anyone, except you. “I am not.”

“Sure. Can we get that breakfast now?”

Looking at you behind your big flower bouquet, Alexia felt breathless, only because she still couldn’t believe that you were hers. At the same time though, she felt like she was able to properly breathe again, because you were finally back in her arms.

—

“Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

You sat on the passenger seat, absentmindedly playing with Alexia’s hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

Alexia gave you a side glance. “Are you questioning my driving abilities? When it was me who drove you around most of your life.”

“Maybe,” you kissed the back of Alexia’s hand. “You’ve never driven outside of Spain before. I’m kind of scared right now. For my life and for my brand new car.”

Alexia laughed, “Driving is the same everywhere, amor.”

“Fine,” you leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to Alexia’s cheek. “I trust you.”

Alexia scrunched her nose in response. “Stop kissing me and tell me where I should go next instead.”

“Just keep on going straight,” you responded. “Then turn left.”

“Now?”

“Are you seeing any left turns right now?”

“You just told me to turn left,” Alexia whined. “You’re such a bad navigator.”

“You should’ve let me drive.”

“You must be tired from work,” Alexia let go of her hand that was in your grip to caress your face. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

You looked at Alexia, taking the her hand in yours again. “So thoughtful, always a gentlewoman. Thank you, Ale.”

“I am thoughtful huh.”

You poked your tongue out at her in response. “I should stop before your ego gets too big.”

Alexia grinned at you. “I think my ego has been big ever since I knew I was your first kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re my first kiss, Alexia Putellas Segura. Just like I am yours.”

“The one I don’t have a single memory of,” Alexia noted. “How could you let me forget what would be the most meaningful experience of my life?”

“It’s not my fault you’re a lightweight,” you pinched Alexia’s cheeks to which the blonde laughed in response. “But hey, at least I tried to remind you of that night, didn’t I? About a thousand times these past few days if I remember correctly.”

Alexia hummed in thought, puckering her lips. “I think I need the reminder once again.” 

You giggled and kissed the palm of Alexia’s hand instead. “Later at home, okay? I can’t have you crashing my car.”

“I’d like that.” Alexia took a quick glance at you and smiled—one that reached her eyes, one that showed you just how happy she was. 

But you were suddenly thinking of home and how you used it to describe your Manchester apartment, even though you never thought of it that way. That was, until Alexia came to visit, leaving her things scattered around like she always did in your old place in Barcelona.

You yearned for days like this, with Alexia driving you back home, eating takeout on the couch as you watched a football match you couldn’t care less about. You let Alexia talk your ear off, giving her commentary on the game, you nodding along like you were totally invested in it too.

Home. 

Manchester had never felt like home. It was an apartment with all of your things, where you slept and showered and ate, but you never considered it to be your home.

Alexia visited one day and changed the meaning of the place entirely.

You lived here for years without Alexia, but you couldn’t imagine it without her anymore. 

You looked at your best friend as she sang along to a Spanish song, she was so off-key. A grin instantly made its way to your lips.

Home was wherever Alexia was. 

—

It was a no-brainer, really.

There was no reason to stay in Manchester when your heart lived in Barcelona.

It had been on your mind since you had to leave Alexia again as you boarded the plane back to Manchester a few months ago. It was the only thing you could think of as you waved goodbye to Alexia as she went back to Barcelona, her black cap and sunglasses covering her face, but you could tell there were tears running down her cheeks.

You knew she was scared that history would repeat itself and you two would argue again. But you also knew that it was different this time. There were no uncertain feelings in your chest, no other girl next to Alexia making you feel replaced. You were certain of your love for Alexia.

But it was time to come home. You knew that the moment Alexia kissed you for the second time.

You hadn’t told Alexia, but you were planning on coming back in a couple of months. You wanted it to be a surprise.

But the night before Alexia left, as you savoured the feeling of her pressed up against you, you came to the conclusion that you need to come back to Barcelona sooner than planned.

Having Alexia next to you felt so good. You missed it a lot. You knew you couldn’t stand even another month being away from her, so you changed your entire timeline and decided to move it up so you were coming back in two weeks.

You had a lot on your to-do list. It was a hassle to move away from the place you’ve lived in for years. It was even harder when you wanted to do it within a few weeks.

Alexia thought it was starting again—the space between you.

You didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“Ale, you're just being a distraction right now.”

Which was true—you had less time to reply to texts and calls in between trying to get rid of your furniture and trying to cut your lease short—but Alexia didn't know that so it wasn’t the right word to use.

Out of context, it sounded harsh, and you figured you could’ve said it better. 

Alexia ended the call abruptly and ignored all your texts for the rest of the day. 

—

Turns out, Alexia decided to ignore you for a whole week. It was understandable, you royally screwed up, but the only thing that kept you from flying to Barcelona as soon as you figured out she was ignoring you was the thought that you were coming back soon. For good.

You left Manchester and years worth of memories behind on a Monday. Your parents welcomed you back with open arms and you spent the night eating your mother’s home cooked meal.

The next day, you knew Alexia had training until noon. So you went to a florist, bought the biggest bouquet of Alexia’s favourite flowers, and you met up with a Barcelona staff member with clear instructions that he was to give it to Alexia. And to make sure that she actually read the note attached to it.

Alexia, my love

Meet me at our spot at 4pm

You’re going to be done by that time, so you better show up

Yours,

y/n

—

You sat at your usual spot by the beach, the same spot where you got your heart broken a few months ago when Alexia didn’t show up. This time, instead of waiting for Alexia with dread and a heavy heart, all you felt was excitement at getting to see her again. 

This time, you knew that Alexia loved you too and you didn’t have to worry about her not showing up.

Alexia loved you too and you weren't going to let her go. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head, the one that propelled you to leave Manchester behind and come back to Barcelona. As much as you loved it over there, you knew it would never beat the feeling of having Alexia next to you. 

You couldn’t wait to be with Alexia. Really be with her, not through a phone screen where her sleeping face would disappear once her phone ran out of battery.

“Amor?”

You craned your head as soon as you heard that voice. Alexia was still as beautiful as ever, despite only wearing some sweatpants and a hoodie that she stole from you when you were still in high school. 

“Hi.” Alexia put her hand up in a little wave. You smiled because Alexia looked so nervous, it was adorable. 

You stood up and walked towards her slowly, your face still amused at the way she was biting her lips—a nervous habit of hers. When you were inches apart you spoke, “Hi back. Why do you look so nervous?”

Alexia’s eyes drifted anywhere but you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You totally are,” you said, trying to catch her eyes. “Can I hug you?”

Alexia finally returned your stare and once your eyes met, Alexia’s entire posture softened and she leaned forward to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you,” Alexia exhaled deeply. “It’s only been a few weeks but I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around her neck, whispering that you missed her too. You breathed in her familiar scent and sighed. You felt at home.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Alexia said once you broke apart.

You shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I am very surprised.” Alexia took your hands in hers. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Can I kiss you now? Or are you still too nervous to do that?” you asked, your tone teasing. “ I can’t have you passing out on me.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “I’m not nervous.”

“So can I kiss you or not?” you asked once more, a grin on her face.

“Of course you can.”

And that was all you needed before you leaned forward and captured her lips with yours.

You kissed your girlfriend gently, you kissed her slowly while trying to convey just how much you missed her—how lonely your nights were without her to cuddle you to sleep and how cold your mornings were without her warm smile.

And when Alexia traced your bottom lip with her tongue, you couldn’t comprehend how fast your heart was beating. After countless kisses, you still felt the same way you did when Alexia first kissed you at eighteen—all fluttery as a thousand butterflies rummaged around your stomach.

Alexia’s lips on yours felt tingly, and Alexia’s hands that were caressing your waist felt like they had belonged there all along.

When you broke apart, Alexia’s hands stayed where they were, her forehead resting against yours while you both tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” Alexia whispered. “I know I say that a lot, but I mean it every time.”

You hummed, your lips curling up into a smile. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, cariño, for ignoring you. I was just… sad, I guess.”

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have called you a distraction.”

“It’s just–” Alexia sighed, she was really beating herself up over this. “You’re supposed to tell me if you’re unhappy. I’m your girlfriend.”

You immediately shake your head. “I’m not unhappy—I could never be unhappy with you.”

“Then?”

You took a deep breath before continuing, “You were a distraction, but only because—Ale?”

Alexia blinked back, as if she didn’t quite understand what you said. She took a step away from your touch and turned her back towards you.

You were confused for a moment before you remembered how much of an overthinker she was.

“Ale. Baby,” you gently placed your hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Your heart broke at the sight of Alexia’s furrowed brows and the slight tremble in her bottom lips.

“Are you—Did you come back to break up with me?”

“Of course not,” you laughed. “Alexia—”

“Don’t—” Alexia tried to turn back around and leave, but you quickly grabbed her arms to prevent her from leaving.

“Alexia,” your hand travelled down to her hands, intertwining them with yours. “Look at me.”

You could see tears starting to well in her and you sighed at how much she resembled a kicked puppy. “Baby,” you cooed. “It’s nothing bad, c’mon, please don’t cry.”

“It’s not?” Alexia whispered out.

“No,” you flashed her a comforting smile. “I would never break up with you, you should know that by now.”

“Oh,” Alexia looked down, sniffling. “Then why? I’m a distraction to you?”

You lifted Alexia’s chin up with your finger. “Moving across countries isn’t an easy thing to do, you know. I have to talk to the hospital about my contract, I have to talk to my agent about my lease, I have to sell all my furniture, I have to meet with my friends to say goodbye—”

“What—”

“That’s why you were kind of distracting me, because I need to get a lot of things done if I want to come home to my girlfriend as soon as possible.”

When realization dawned on Alexia, her eyes widened and you laughed at how comical she looked. Alexia placed her hand on your mouth, muffling your laughs. “Stop laughing at me. You’re coming back?”

You took Alexia’s hand away from your mouth and grinned at her. Alexia’s eyebrows were raised, her face expectant as she waited for an answer.

You smiled fondly at her expressions before you answered her question with a kiss.

One second into the kiss, a giggle escaped your mouth, causing Alexia to break you apart, narrowing her eyes at your interruption. “Sorry, you were just too adorable.”

“Glad to know you think me crying is adorable.”

You placed a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t like seeing you cry but I wasn’t even breaking up with you, you big baby.”

“You’re so mean,” Alexia pouted. “But you’re really coming back? For good?”

“I am. I can’t be apart from you anymore. I love you and I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.”

“Cheesy.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Shut up. I’m trying to be cute.”

“So… will you be asking me to move in with you then?”

“Well…” you gave a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you would be the one to ask me that, since I don’t exactly have a place here anymore. Unless you want to move in with my parents, that’s okay too.”

Alexia laughed and pecked your lips. You felt warm all over. “Let’s go look for a new place. My place is too small for all our kids anyway.”

“Kids?” you looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “Alexia. Did you skip the entire wedding?”

Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m talking about Nala. And Mr. Oreo, your stinky cat. Add Vicky, Jana, Esmee to the list too.”

You slapped Alexia’s arm in response. “You scared me there for a second. We need to get married first, you know. No skipping a chapter.”

Alexia laughed, kissing the top of your head. You looked at her and the sight of your girlfriend with a big smile and eyes that displayed so much happiness gave you the sudden urge to kiss her again. So you did.

With the feeling of Alexia smiling against your lips, you knew that no matter where life takes you, you’d always come home to her.

—

Y/n,

I still remember the moment you left to go to Manchester. I remember watching you leave and I remember feeling so helpless because I knew that things would change. I saw you walk away and I have never wanted to scream your name so badly—just so you would look at me one last time. But I didn’t. 

I didn’t, because you were off to do amazing things and I couldn’t keep you here as much as I wanted to. And because a part of me felt relieved that we’d be spending less time together because it would give me the time I needed to move on from you.

It worked for a while. My heart didn’t break into pieces every time I saw you and Leila on social media, and my heart didn’t feel like it’s being squeezed every time you talked about her.

My daydreams about you stopped, I didn’t hear your laugh in the back of my head at random times of the day anymore. I thought that was it. I was moving on, and I started to swallow the bitter truth that we weren’t meant to be together.

But then one night you called me. It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t stop laughing because of a joke you just thought of. You asked if I was asleep, and I knew you’d tell me to go back to sleep if I said yes, so I lied. Only because I missed your voice and because hearing your laugh again after so long made my heart feel whole again when I didn’t even realize it had a missing piece.

I realized that, no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I would never love anyone as much as I love you.

I started to spend each night cursing at the stars, being angry and asking why the universe gave you to me, but at the same time, never letting me completely have you. 

I settled for someone else because I thought that you’d never look at me the way I looked at you. I loved someone else and their name tasted just fine on my lips but I kept on wishing that it was your name that I was whispering into the dark nights instead. And I had to come to terms that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with you in the way that I’d hoped, so I said ‘yes’ to someone else.

But things happened, and I found out that you had been looking at me the same way all along—hidden glances, longing gazes, the desperate yearning to know how it feels like to love each other in ways no one but us can understand.

You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had and now, instead of cursing at the stars, I thank them each night because the universe gave you to me and now I have the chance to be able to love and admire every part of you.

Now your name is the only one I’d whisper into the nights—the nights where it’s just us two and your face that’s illuminated by the moonlight is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Now you’re the person I said ‘yes’ to because you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I never would have thought that we’d be here, and that in a few hours I’d get to call you my wife. 

I love you, mi amor. I have loved you since I was five and didn’t know anything about the world. I have loved you when we were apart, when nothing else was left to say between us, when the mornings without your texts turned my world darker.

And I have loved you when we’re together, when I look to the side and you’re always there next to me, when your hands feel like they’re my long-lost limb—your hands holding mine, your hands around my waist, your hands tangled through my hair, your hands around my neck, your hands holding me at night when it’s quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in sync with mine.

I have loved you for so long that it’s now a part of me and I know that I would never go a day without loving you.

And despite knowing you for most of my life, I still get nervous around you. So I’m writing this letter in case I couldn’t blurt out my vows because of how you’d be looking at me—as if I’m the only star in your sky. I hope that by reading this, you know just how much I love you and how I don’t ever plan to stop.

You make me the happiest. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re the happiest too.

I’ll see you in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle :)

Yours forever and ever and ever, 

Alexia

----

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my longest fic yet, please let me know your thoughts!<3

[vintagepresley]

I’m almost done with it. I’ll be honest.. I only read this book because Cooper Koch loves this book and way how beautiful it is and he may be playing Jude if they actually decide to make a movie about it which I heard is possibly happening. So I’m like hmmm he keeps talking about this book and the cover caught my eye. I did a little research on it and saw a lot… ALOT of people hated it. But I just took that as people on TikTok being dramatic as always.

This book is so traumatic, tragic, painful, sad and had my emotions everywhere. I’ve never cried so much reading a book. Then I decided to see what everyone thought of it on TikTok and just doing research. I’m seeing everyone call it trauma porn and all these other things. I’ll be honest. Would I classify this book as beautiful? No. Do I understand why people describe it that way? Definitely. But it’s not beautiful to me. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s a wonderfully written book and the story and how it’s told is phenomenal. But it’s so tragic that I can’t define it as beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it or the characters. Thinking about it makes me cry.

But I don’t hate it? I think the reason why is because there are so many people out there going through what Jude had experienced and what he was experiencing with the aftermath of those things in his adulthood. Now I’m not saying these exact scenarios are happening to people. But these things do happen. The child prostitution, the child sexual abuse, physical abuse. Rape. How people deal with it, I feel sometimes is similar to how Jude was dealing with it. Refusing to see a therapist, the cutting, thinking he’s not good enough or doesn’t deserve love because he thinks he’s disgusting or that people think he is. Not being able to open up because of the fear of people seeing you differently. His difficulties with sex and his relationships with the people around him. All of that I think is what made me emotional because all I could think about is the people out there who are or who have been through this. Then myself being a victim of sexual abuse.

I think that’s what made it hard for me to hate it. Because once I saw everyone hating it.. I’m like why? This is stuff that’s happening to people. Stuff that people are dealing with and we don’t even know it because some people are afraid to talk about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why people DO hate it. It’s fucking wild to write as a book. Like who the fuck thinks of shit like this??? I also don’t agree with the authors opinions about how someone as traumatized as Jude should kill themselves and how she doesn’t really believe in therapy. That I think is the most ridiculous thing I heard. Therapy works if you allow it to work and you allow yourself to be open and vulnerable. Suicide doesn’t need to be the answer and a lot of times therapy has saved someone’s life. So the author I don’t really like. Cause girl what… I also don’t agree with this becoming a movie. No one wants to see this on film, it’s hard enough reading about it. I love Cooper Koch and I think he’d make a great Jude especially after seeing him as Erik Menendez. But I don’t want a movie about this book. WE DONT NEED THAT.

[loudclan-clangen]

Cut for Time - Moon 31

Hey guys! New things! Sometimes when we have long moons, there are scenes that I want to show you guys but I just don't have room to do so. With the suggestion of @snailstep-and-her-clan and the help of the loudclan discord I was able to bring some of these scenes to life in written and illustrated form! Enjoy, and go follow the talented artists if you don't already!

art by @mammoth-clangen

“I’m sorry.” Peakpatch tries to look down at his paws shamefully, but Jaggedtail places a paw under his chin, gently urging Peakpatch to look him in the eye.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“But it’s stupid-” tears prick at Peakpatch’s eyes.

“It’s not stupid. Don’t be sorry.” Jaggedtail’s voice is solid and comforting, Peakpatch fights the urge to melt into it. It feels wrong to seek comfort in his friend after rejecting him. It feels selfish.

“It is stupid. I like you, you like me, we should be mates! I just… I'm not ready…” Peakpatch’s tears begin to drip, and he doesn't have the will to fight it when Jaggedtail pulls him into his chest. 

“I understand, Peakpatch. You don’t have to explain it. It’s okay. I’m here as your friend for as long as you need me to be. And when you’re ready to become mates- if you’re ever ready, I’ll be here then too. I’m not going anywhere. I already promised you that.” Peakpatch let out a shaky breath. He couldn't imagine a life without Jaggedtail. If keeping him at paw's length is what Peakpatch needed to do to keep him alive, then he would be happy to. He could find a way to be happy to.

art by @lurking-in-windclan-camp

Hushed voices echo out of the healer's den, but with the majority of the clan at a gathering there's no one to notice two mischievous apprentices hidden in the shadows of the cave.

“Ah! Shoot!” Dancepaw recoils from one of the piles of herbs, cradling an injured paw, “This one stings!”

Erminepaw peeks over at Dancepaw’s pile. “Hm, that must be nettle, then,” He pauses for a moment, before reaching over and gingerly sweeping it into another pile “Songpaw said that fireweed cures stings, so we’ll put those together. Oo, and the stinkweed too, since they’re both ‘weeds’!”

"What about the berries? They all look the same, so how are we supposed to tell the difference? Taste?" Dancepaw hooks a berry with his claw, raising it to his mouth before a sharp smack from Ermine sends it flying into the dark recesses of the cave.

"No! You never eat a berry that you don't know the name of! Don't you pay attention at all when Songpaw talks?" Ermine's scolding earns him an offended glare.

"Well if you know so much then you do it!" Dancepaw sulks around to the other side of the ledge, shouldering Erminepaw over to the berries.

Erminepaw bristles at the shove, but after a deep breath he begins to hesitantly sort berries, too proud to admit that the task is a bit above his level as well. Besides, Erminepaw assures himself, he's watched his mother do this a thousand times, how hard could it be?

“Songpaw better be grateful that we’re helping him out like this.” Dancepaw grumbles.

“I’m sure he will be when he finds out!” Erminepaw pointedly chirps back, trying to push the creeping feeling of unease back down his spine. If he makes a mistake the healers will fix it. What's the worst that could happen?

Art by @featherfrond

“Hey! Wait up!” Rosehiptree trots up to Kingfur as he slips past the jagged rocks that mark the camp entrance, their pelts brushing as she squeezes through the narrow gap alongside him.

“Everything alright?” Kingfur questions, on edge at the unusual attention. Rosehiptree was his sister Sockeyepelt's friend, it wasn't often that she paid him any mind. Perhaps his prank had inspired the pair of them, the thought sent a shiver down Kingfur's spine. His sister didn't exactly know where the line was when it came to practical jokes. He swore that he still had thorns lodged under his skin from the time she decided he needed to go swimming in a pit of devil's club. It was in his best interest to deflect for now. “Sockeyepelt is sunning back in the camp if you were looking for her.”

“I know that. I’m not looking for her.” Great, Kingfur thought to himself, watching Rosehiptree glance around at their surroundings. Had Sockeyepelt slipped out of camp ahead of them when he wasn't paying attention?

Satisfied with her sweep of the area, Rosehiptree turned her attention back to Kingfur, a wide grin slowly taking hold as ice blue eyes sparkled with delight, “I’m looking for the genius who got Juneaucliff to walk around camp puffed up like a ptarmagin with all that junk smeared on his stupid face!”

Kingfur felt pride well in his chest, but quelled it, not about to let himself fall for such blatant flattery. "You didn't seem to find it all that genius from where I was standing. I didn't think you even payed enough attention to notice."

Rosehiptree rolled her eyes, playfully bumping shoulders with the tom. "That's just cause that's what I wanted you to think. I'm not blind!" Their gazes lock for a moment, before Kingfur glances away, his will power crumbling by the second. Had her eyes alway been that blue? Was that some kind of trick to make him let down his guard? Is there some kind of herb that makes your eyes bluer?

Kingfur takes an instinctive step away from the she-cat, and she hesitates, her gaze dropping as she continues dejectedly, "Juneau's a good guy, don't get me wrong, I'm sure he'd make a great mate, but we're just not on the same page, you know? He deserves someone who's gonna make him happy, and that's not me. It's never gonna be me. But, when I say 'never' he just hears 'not now'." Her eyes flick nervously between her paws as her voice trails off.

This isn't a prank. The realisation washes over him all to late, as Kingfur searches for something to say to her, but caught off guard he comes up empty. Rosehiptree clears her throat and flicks her tail, raising her head once again, and summoning a polite smile. "Well I just wanted to uh, say thanks for getting him off my back for a while." She steps to the side, turning back to camp, and Kingfur's stomach twists.

"Hey, uh-" Having her attention turned back to him once again made some childish part of Kingfur wish he had just let her walk away. But he steeled himself, plastering a confident grin on his face to make up for the fact that his stomach seemed to be trying to climb up out of his throat. "I'm glad I could help, and..." Kingfur's brain was working overtime to find something witty. He wanted to make her laugh again. "I'm glad that you were entertained. That'll make it worth it when he slits my throat in my sleep later tonight."

Rosehiptree grinned again, circling back to his side. "Well at least you'll have died for a worthy cause." Kingfur was going to die right here if she kept smiling at him like that. Would that count as a worthy cause? The tip of his tail flicked rapidly as she approached.

Bolstered by his reciprocated playfulness, Rosehiptree stepped in front of him, brushing the length of her body across his chest, "Of course, if you needed some protection I could always sleep in your nest tonight." Her tail flicked under his chin as she started back to camp once again.

Every fur on Kingfur's pelt stood on end. If he had any brain function at this moment he might worry over his resemblance to a porcupine, but even if he had the mind to do something about it, he couldn't have, as despite feeling like his blood was being heated over a flame, his muscles suddenly seemed to be made of unmovable stone. Perhaps this was a prank, intending to leave him frozen in the middle of this trail for a returning patrol to discover.

"Catch me something while you're out. A puffed up ptarmagin prefferably!" Rosehiptree called to him over her shoulder.

“Y-yeah.” Kingfur stuttered, praying to starclan that his lungs would remember how to work before he passed out. Or at least that he wouldn't topple over before Rosehiptree was out of sight. Mediator heirs weren't supposed to do that, but Kingfur figured that starclan would understand the extenuating circumstances and take pity on him.

That's all for today folks! If you enjoy this I'll do it more! It's a great way for all you background character loving freaks (affectionate) to get some more time with your poor forgotten gays. And it also lets me expand on some ideas that are hard to fit into the comic, like Rosehiptree's complicated feelings about Juneau, which is really fun for me! She's just a heart throb idk what to say. Every man of appropriate age is falling for her. (Except Cave he's too busy being poisoned)

[birdiewritessometimes]

Tutor

A/N: Soft hours ;-; this goes out to all my academic over achievers out there, girl me too. One beautiful anon who requested soft Matt or soft Theo got me thinking about this! Also please don’t skip meals, food is fuel <3

Also, also, I’ve heard your demands, and I have added a summary!

This has been a struggle tbh, I love it but I’m also not happy with it. Oh well, I hope you guys enjoy it <3

Summary: As Professor Flitwick assign you to tutor Theodore Nott in charms you two develop a strange friendship that brings a new set of friends into your life. Theodore helps you see that there might be more to life than just studying in the library every day.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw!reader

Themes/warnings: Reader is overworking herself, skipping meals, self-doubt, sleep-troubles, cursing, fluff, found family, clichés (but oh what I love them), kissing, Italian pet names (Italians, I’ve tried to do some research, and I hope I didn’t butcher them, please let me know if I did though!), is this qualified as a slow burn?,  mentions of a dead parent.

Word count: 10 000-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

“But Professor, please. I really need to focus on my own work.” You pleaded with your charms professor and your head of house, Professor Flitwick. He was a short, clever man. You really liked him; he was a good teacher and a good head of house. Which is why you were feeling slightly guilty for pleading with him not to assign you to be a tutor.

“I’m sorry Miss l/n, I’m afraid you’re the best one for the job. Mr. Nott really needs an outstanding in his OWL in charms. Professor Snape asked me to help make it happen, and I have no doubt you are more than capable.” Flitwick said, an encouraging smile on his face. You felt your shoulders sag in defeat.

“Are you sure you can’t ask anybody else?” You asked, your last simmer of hope to be able to study undisturbed faded as you saw your professors head shake no.

“Alright, I’ll do it.” You said in defeat. Professor Flitwick smiled up at you from his seat behind his wooden desk.

“Excellent Miss l/n!” He said as he clapped his hands together. He paused when he saw your defeated expression, “Oh, Miss l/n, please try to see this as a learning opportunity, maybe young Mr. Nott could teach you something too.” He added, a sympathetic smile on his face as he surveyed your defeated form.

“Okay, I will.” You said, trying to brighten your own voice, “I’ll see you later, Professor.” You added while giving him a small smile before turning around to leave his office. Professor Flitwick’s office led out into the charms classroom that resided on the third floor, in the charms corridor. The classroom was dimly lit, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow on the wooden floor in the middle of the classroom. The benches were empty except for one where a tall boy sat. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, effectively making the chair look small beneath him. He was fidgeting with the ring that sat on his index finger. His head shot up when he heard your footsteps echo on the wooden floorboards.

“I’ll tutor you every Tuesday and Thursday, four o’clock in the library, don’t be late.” You said after you stopped right in front of the desk he was sitting in. He was looking up at you with his steely blue eyes, a tired expression in his eyes. He gave you a short nod as he stopped fidgeting with his ring.

“Good, I’ll, uh, see you then.” You said, giving what you thought was a friendly smile. The least you could do was to at least try to be friendly, it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. Come to second thought, it kind of was, but you can’t blame the guy for being stupid.

“Right, see you.” He said after he cleared his throat. His voice was deep and rich. You noticed that he didn’t have a British accent like most students in the school. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what accent it was though. But it added to the smoothness of his voice making you wonder why he didn’t speak more often. You gave him another small smile before turning around to head to the library.

The library was quiet when you entered, some students were scattered around the room. The smell of old books and burning fires hit your nose as you walked towards your usual space. It was in the corner, near one of the fires making it the perfect spot for studying, away from the cold draft that usually swept through the castle regardless of season. You spent most of your free time studying, finding yourself lost in books and books about different magical topics. You did this mostly because your dream was to one day become an unspeakable. The Department of Mysteries intrigued you but the way there meant top grades and hard work. And that’s just what you did, worked hard and got top grades. But that also meant that you had to spend your free time in the library, studying.

You sat down in one of the cushioned chairs around the table, gently placing your Ravenclaw robe on the seat next to you along with your bag. You pulled out the ancient runes-book. The worn leather rough against your fingers as you placed it on the table along with your quill, inkpot and some parchment. You opened the book at the bookmark and got to work. For hours you poured over the runes, their translations and writing down their meanings. The only thing that reminded you of the time was your back being stiff and your butt numb. Taking a glance at your watch you noticed that it was almost time for curfew. With a yawn you stood up. You quickly packed your things, grabbed your robe and hurried through the castle and up to Ravenclaw tower. After you got ready for bed, you fell asleep the second your head hit your pillow, sleeping through yet another restless night.

The next day you awoke feeling tired. It was a Tuesday which meant tutoring with Theodore after your last lesson of the day. Noticing the time, and that breakfast was soon to be over, you hurriedly got ready. You added light makeup to hide the dark circles that was accumulating under your eyes from another night where it felt like you didn’t sleep. Collecting your books for the day you dashed out of your dorm and hurried to the great hall. When you entered you found your seat next to the girls you share your dorm with. They were by no means your friends, but you could eat and make small talk with them, which was good enough for you. When you had quickly eaten a piece of toast you once again dashed away towards your classes for the day. The lessons went by quickly, like usual. Before you knew it lunchtime came. You actually had time to eat your meal calmly before you headed to your last two lessons for the day. These lessons went by as quickly as the ones in the morning did. Maybe it was because you had revised the material beforehand, or maybe time just went by quicker when you learned something.

It was a quarter to four when you walked into the familiar air of old books and warm fires of the library. You took your usual seat by the fire, placed your robes and bag on the chair next to you before picking up your copy of the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, the large book heavy in your hands as you placed it on the table with a thud. You gently flickered through it as you waited for Theodore to show up. You refreshed your memory for some of the spells as you looked through the book. After around five minutes you heard low footsteps come nearer your spot by the warm fire, away from the chilly autumn breeze that seemed to drift through the castle. Looking up you saw Theodore approaching your table. His hair was its usual floppy self. He had rid himself of his Slytherin cloak, the material hanging over his forearm. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as well as loosened his tie and leaving the top button unbuttoned. You kept looking him over until he stood beside you, looking down at you.

“Hi.” You said softly as you gestured for him to sit. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement before placing his bag and cloak on a chair around the table before sitting down in the seat next to yours. You let him take his time packing up, he was early after all.

“So, is there anything in particular you want to start with?” You asked cautiously when he had placed his copy of the textbook on the table, along with a notebook, a quill and an inkpot.

“I’ve had problems with the locomotion charm.” He shrugged nonchalantly. So, he was not a talkative person, that’s fine, you thought. You were surprised by his honesty, though you by no means had an opinion on the boy beside you, you knew he was friends with a group of troublemaking boys. You had assumed he would wave it all off or say that he didn’t need your help, so when he admitted, although with some air of nonchalance, what he was struggling with it surprised you.

“Okay,” you nodded, “how about we start with that one and then revise the others?” You suggested as you flipped through the worn book to the page of the locomotion charm. You saw how Theodore nodded in agreement with your suggestion. You went over the basic theory of the charm, explaining things such as wand movement and what the spell was useful for. It took you around five minutes before you zipped closed your pencase, plopping it down before the tall, brooding boy next to you.

“Alright, enough chitchat, show me what you’ve got.” You said with what you hoped was an encouraging smile. Not that he was looking at you, he was busy sending an icy glare at your pink fuzzy pencase. He was looking like he was personally offended by its presence. You flicked your hair over your shoulder as you turned in your seat to face him.

“Okay, so what crimes has my pencase committed against you?” You asked, a playful note in your voice as you studied him. This seemed to pull him out of his staring match with the pencase as he raised an eyebrow at you in a silent question.

“Don’t look at me, it was you who was having a staring competition with an inanimate object.” You shrugged, a small giggle escaping you. You saw how he cracked the smallest of smiles at your comment. You had to admit that his smile was cute, really cute actually.

“Alright, come on, show me.” You nodded at your pencase again and his small smile fell. With a sigh he picked up his wand from the table. He cleared his throat as he pointed his wand at the fuzzy pencase in front of him.

“Locomoto pencase.” He said, his voice smoot and deep. He did the upwards motion with his wand, but nothing happened. You noticed right after he had said the incantation that he has mispronounced it. He let out a sigh of frustration as he looked away from you, embarrassed. You felt some sympathy for him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm, effectively making him look at you.

“Hey, you did good. You just didn’t pronounce the incantation correctly,” You said softly, a kind smile on your face, “it’s locomotor with an r.” You explained.

“Alright, let me try again.” He muttered, surprising you with his words. You nodded encouragingly, letting him try again. This time the pencase hovered for a while before falling down on the table in front of him with a low thud.

“See! Try concentrating more next time.” You said, excitement in your voice. Theodore flashed you that small smile again, making you feel warm inside, before trying the spell for the third time. He made the pencase move around the table for a while before it fell with a thud again.

“Good job Theodore!” You cheered him on, “how about some theory?” You suggested, to which he nodded. He placed his wand on the table, scooting back in his chair, sprawling his legs out as he picked up the leatherbound textbook in his large hands, effectively making it look weirdly small. Your eyes travelled up to his face and saw that he was already looking at you, an expectant look in his eyes. You quickly looked away from him as you cleared your throat. You felt a blush dust your cheeks when you heard a faint chuckle from the boy next to you. Straightening in your chair you started to explain some more in-depth theory. Time went on rather quickly as you quizzed Theodore on some things and asked him to explain some others back to you. He was improving quickly, making you feel somewhat proud of him. In the last moments before it was time for dinner, he practiced the charm once more on your pencase. This time the pencase zoomed up and down from the table, making it do flips and other tricks around the table before he stopped it right in front of you. The pencase fell on top of your book with a muted thud.

“Good job Theodore! Look at you!” You said, not being able to contain your enthusiasm. He let out a shy sort of chuckle at that as he averted his eyes from you.

“Thanks for helping me.” He mumbled, still looking away. His words stunned you as you turned your head to really look at him. He didn’t seem like his usual stoic, broody self. He seemed more embarrassed and defeated now, making the sympathy you had for him earlier to come back.

“Hey,” you said softy, placing your hand on his arm effectively making him look at you once again, “we all need a little bit of help from time to time, it’s nothing to worry about.” He looked at you, an unreadable look in his usually tired eyes. The background faded as your heartbeat sped up, making you feel warm inside.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, not tearing his eyes from yours. The air around you shifted as you looked into each other’s eyes, making your heartbeat race even more. The air around you became almost palpable as you sat there together.

“You’re welcome.” You breathed out. Your eye-contact broke when there was a loud thud from someone dropping a book somewhere in the library. Coming back to reality you straightened up as Theodore cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll, uh, see you Thursday?” He said as he hurriedly put his things in his bag. You nodded at him.

“Yeah, see you Thursday.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile before he walked off to dinner. You slowly packed your things away in your bag before you made your way to the great hall for dinner as well. On your walk there he was on your mind. You wondered why he was so cold and quiet. Your mind drifted to his deep, smooth voice as you thought back to the tutoring session. And how he had beautiful eyes, cold, blue and tired, yet they intrigued you. Like he was pulling you into him. You were lost in thought when you arrived at the big oak doors that led to the great hall. You absentmindedly walked in and sat down at the long wooden table, next to the girls in your dormitory. You plated some beef stew and potatoes on the porcelain plate in front of you.

As you ate your eyes drifted over the great hall, scanning the groups of students who were chatting to each other excitedly. Your eyes soon drifted over the Slytherin table. The table was filled with students, some were chatting, others reading or just minding their own business. Your eyes then met the steely blue ones that belonged to Theodore. He caught you off guard, but you couldn’t seem to look away from him either. You sat there looking at each other for a moment, the background once again fading, before he looked away first, laughing at something his friends said. You turned back to your food, eating as you thought about him.

He remained in your thoughts during the next day. You found yourself thinking about him when you were eating your meals, when you were walking to classes, and you even found your thoughts drifting to him when you were studying. You were wondering things about him that you have never cared about before with others. Like where he grew up? Did he have any siblings? What was his parents like? While you found yourself thinking more about him you started to notice him more around the castle too, noticing him in classes or that your paths crossed on your way to different lessons.

The day had passed quickly, now with your thoughts occupied by both Theodore and school. You had just finished dinner and were on your way towards the library to get in some more studying before bed. When you entered the entrance hall you heard rowdy voices from a group of boys and when you lifted your gaze you saw the Slytherin quidditch team. You assumed they were heading to the quidditch pitch to practice since they were walking towards the great doors. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of being outside right now. The rain was whipping against the windows of the castle as the winds were harsh. Your eyes fell on Theodore who were walking next to his friend, Mattheo Riddle. You never thought you would find a quidditch player attractive but by judging from the leap your heart did when you saw him in his uniform you found yourself proven wrong.

Pictures of Theodore in his emerald green quidditch robes, his broom propped up on his shoulder, flooded your brain as you walked to the library. None of the boys had noticed you when they had stridden across the entrance hall and out into the stormy weather. Opening the doors to the library you were immediately enveloped in a warm hug of burning fires and old books. You slowly made your way to your usual seat in the far back corner. The wooden chair scraped against the floor as you took your seat on the cushioned seat. You pulled out the leather-bound transfiguration book, opting to read up on the topic Professor McGonagall discussed during the transfiguration lesson you had earlier during the day. The rain was smattering against the window next to the fireplace, the sound mingling with the cracks and pops of the burning wood in the fire making you relax as you settled in your seat to study the whole evening. You worked long into the hours of the evening, your numb butt once again reminding you of curfew, making you hastily pack up your books and other materials before making your way to bed.

Thursday went by quickly, lessons flying by in a haste and before you knew it you were seated in the library, a quarter to four in the afternoon, flipping through the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5 again. It was a particularly cold day today, making you wear your Ravenclaw sweater over your button up to shield yourself from the cold mid-November air. The fire next to your table seemed to nothing to keep the chill at bay. You sent a glare at it as you shivered once more, trying to urge it to make the room hotter, or else.

“Look who’s now having a staring contest with an inanimate object.” The deep voice of Theodore pulled you out of your thoughts about threatening a fire, you really needed a good night’s sleep. You looked to the side of you and saw how Theodore plopped down in his chair, his fluffy hair flopping on his forehead in the process. He was wearing his Slytherin uniform in his usual dishevelled way, his robes draped over his arm once again.

“What did that fire do to you, huh?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips when he turned back to look at you, the Standard Book of Spells in his hands.

“It didn’t keep me warm.” You said, your teeth clattering slightly as you spoke. You were rubbing your arms with your hands, trying to warm yourself with the friction. Theodore let out a huff-like chuckle.

“Come on y/n, it’s not that cold.” He said, the smirk slightly wider now, making you smile lightly at him. It seemed like he was more comfortable around you this time, already talking more than he did the last time you met.

“It is, but that’s no- hey!” You let out when he stood up and before you knew it, he had grabbed his robes that he had hung over the back of one of the chairs around the table and draped it over your shoulders. His action stunned you as he pulled the material tighter around your shoulders, fixing it.

“Where did you put your own robes?” He muttered as he sat down in his seat again, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Coming back from your momentary chock you looked at him, sure a blush was on your cheeks.

“I forgot them in my dorm.” You mumbled, now feeling the heat of the blush on your cheeks. Your fingers moved to clutch the woolly fabric of his winter robes, subconsciously pulling it closer around you as his cologne hit your nose. It smelled fresh, like freshly laundered clothes but it had a hint of citrus and the obvious cigarette smell that lingered on the garment. The smell was surprisingly comforting as it surrounded you like a hug. Theodore let out a chuckle at your answer to his question.

“So, what are we doing today, teach?” He then asked, a tone on nonchalance in his voice as he turned back to face straight forward. The nickname made you smile, it made you grateful that he was trying to be friendly too.

“I was thinking that we really perfect the locomotion charm, you know so it really sticks.” You suggested. Theodore nodded as he picked up his wand. He was more eager today than he was last Tuesday, it made you smile as you zipped up your pencase again and plopped it on the table before him. He cleared his throat before performing the spell. You sat next to him as you looked on as he made your pencase move around on the table. It seemed like he lost concentration once because he dropped the pencase. But you encouraged him to go again, and he did. After he was done making your pencase perform circus tricks on the table he tried the charm on something heavier, your stack of schoolbooks that you had placed on the table for later. He had no problem making them move around at his will as he performed the charm.

Tutoring Theodore was easier than you thought, he seemed to have no problem learning and perfecting the spells when you were working on them together. He took his time and perfected the locomotion charm just as you had suggested, even going so far as to answer every question you asked him about it correctly. You felt proud of him when your tutoring session came to an end.

“Really good job Theodore!” You beamed at him, the feelings of happiness and pride taking over you. He smiled shyly as he thanked you, not being used to the praise that you were giving him. You might have been seeing things, but you were sure you saw a faint blush on the boy’s cheeks from your complement. As it was time for dinner he stood up and slowly packed away his things.

“Oh, right, thank you for letting me borrow your robes, Theodore.” You smiled as you started to shrug of the garment that had been keeping you warm the two hours you had been working together. He shook his head at you, making you pause.

“You can keep it for tonight if you want, I have a couple of others.” He said, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets and looked down at his feet. You felt a blush creep up on your face again.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you going to be cold?” You asked shyly making him look at you, that small smirk on his face again.

“Nah, I’m good, you look like you need it more.” He said, his tone considerably lighter than before.

“I’ll give it back to you tomorrow?” You suggested to which he shrugged his shoulders somewhat nonchalantly.

“That’s fine, honestly it’s no stress.” He said as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Theodore.” You smiled at him gratefully as you pulled his cloak tighter around your body again.

“It’s fine, bella.” He said casually, but as he said the nickname it clicked in your head.

“You’re Italian?” You blurted out as he was about to turn around to leave. He raised an eyebrow at you, the smirk back on his face again.

“I am, why?” He asked, somewhat amused by your outburst. You started to feel stupid by your actions, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, have been trying to figure out where your accent’s form…” You trailed off, feeling more stupid by the second. He let out a chuckle at this.

“My mum was Italian; I moved here when I was 10.” He explained but your mind got stuck on ‘was’. His mum was Italian, not is. He had lost his mum. The thought weighed on your mind as you looked up at him as he stood beside your chair. You weren’t sure on what to say to this. You saw how his smirk had dropped slightly when he had mentioned his mum as well, it was obviously a painful topic for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Theodore.” You said softly, feeling heartbroken for him. He gave you a half-hearted smile.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” He shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. You gave him a weak smile, still feeling very sorry for him. He gave you a half smile back before clearing his throat.

“Well, I got to go to dinner,” He said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “see you, bella.” He said, his small smirk back on his face again, making you smile back at him.

“See you, Theodore.” You said softly before he turned around and walked towards the exit of the library. You looked after him until he was out of your line of sight before you reluctantly turned back to your books, picking up your textbook on the goblin rebellions. You had an essay due next week and decided now would be a good time to start writing it. Once again you worked into the long hours of the evening before you decided that enough was enough and made your way to Ravenclaw tower. Theodores cloak was heavy and warm against your shoulders as you walked through the corridors and up the staircases that lead to Ravenclaw tower. When you arrived at your dorm you folded the cloak neatly before getting ready for bed.

When you awoke Friday morning you were surprised that you felt rested for the first time in a long time. You felt like your mood were better than normal, the usual stress you felt now better. You got ready, collected your books for the day and grabbed Theodores robes before you went down to breakfast, assuming you would see him there, but you were wrong. No big deal, he maybe overslept, and you were just handing him his robes back, you could do that at any time. Throughout the day you looked for Theodore in the crowds, classes and during the meals. It was now dinnertime, and you hadn’t seen him all day. As you walked towards the library after dinner, you decided to actually go to the quidditch match to give him back his robes tomorrow. It was the first game of the season, Slytherin against Hufflepuff and you knew Theodore was on the Slytherin quidditch team alongside his friends.

After another long night of studying you awoke Saturday morning, feeling tired once more. You dragged yourself out of your warm bed, feeling shivers go through your body as your feet hit the cold floor. You made your bed, making sure the royal blue cover laid neatly over your bed before you tied back the blue curtains with the bronze cords. You looked out of the window to see the weather, it looked like a crisp day, the grounds were covered in glittering white frost, but no snow to be seen and the sky was clear. If you had to guess this had to be optimal quidditch conditions. You picked out a warm, comfortable outfit, bringing a warm jacket, mittens and earmuffs to keep warm in the high quidditch stands. Topping it all off with your Ravenclaw scarf. When you arrived at breakfast most of the students had left, probably to get warmer clothes for the match. You ate a piece of toast and had a cup of warm coco before you started to make your way to the stands. You were right, it was very cold out, you were thanking yourself for brining such warm clothing as the icy winds swept through the high stands where you were standing along the rest of your house.

You were standing next to the girls with whom you shared your dorm, Theodore’s robes neatly folded in your mitten clad hands. You made small talk with them as you waited for the match to start. The spectators erupted in cheers (and boos) as the two teams made their way onto the pitch. The seventh year Slytherin captain shook hands with Hufflepuffs captain Cedric Diggory, a handsome sixth year. You saw how both teams mounted their brooms as your eyes scanned the Slytherin team for Theodore. You found him just as they kicked off, he was soaring towards the Slytherin goal posts. He was a keeper. You heard Madam Hootch’s whistle signalling that the game had begun but your eyes were on him the entire game. He was unbelievable. He caught almost every ball, only letting in one or two goals, you weren’t counting. You couldn’t help but think about how good he looked in his green quidditch robes, hair windswept and his usually tired eyes determined. The Slytherin team were making goal after goal and they were leading by so much that, after about two hours, when Cedric had caught the snitch Slytherin still won by sixty points.

You saw how the Slytherin team were cheering on Theodore and Blaise, one of the chasers that did the most goals, when you started to make your way down to the pitch along with the rest of the spectators. You slowly made your way onto the pitch, feeling out of your element and uncertain what to do you decided to stand slightly to the side to let the boys celebrate together. You were standing next to a Slytherin girl in your year, Pansy Parkinson as the two of you waited for the boys to calm down.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked with the same air of nonchalance that most Slytherins seemed to have as she looked at the group. You knew who her boyfriend was, Draco Malfoy, the seeker on the team.

“Oh, I, uh, no-”

“Bella!” Theodore interrupted you as he jogged up to you a surprised but happy look on his face. You felt your face break out in a smile as you saw him running towards you. But before you could say or do anything he had reached you, thrown his arms around you and picked you up, spinning you around. You let out a squeal in surprise quickly letting one of your arms snake around the tall boy’s neck so you wouldn’t fall, you other hand holding the reason you came to the match in the first place, his cloak.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you as he put you down, a broad smile on his face as he looked down at you. You were sure you were blushing from his hug, but you decided to let it go, emotions were just running high after the match. He would have hugged anyone like that, you thought.

“I came to congratulate you on your good match,” You said, and you saw how his smile became even wider in happiness, it made you smile too, “and to give you this back, since I didn’t find you yesterday.” You said softly as you handed him the thick fabric of his cloak. He took it in one of his large hands, the other, you just noticed, was still resting on your waist. If you weren’t blushing from before you had to be now, hopefully you could blame the wind. Just as he was about to say something he was interrupted by his best friend and one of the beaters, Mattheo.

“Oi, Theo, who are you hiding there?” You could hear the teasing note in the voice. Theodore was giving you an apologetic look before he gave you a gentle squeeze on the waist before letting go just as Mattheo, Lorenzo, the other beater, and Blaise joined you. They were looking at the two of you with great interest making you chuckle in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi, I’m y/n, I tutor Theodore.” You said while giving a wave at the boys, to break the weird silence that had fallen upon the group.

“Teach?” They all exclaimed, making you smile and raise an eyebrow in a silent question at Theodore who suddenly seemed to find the sky extremely interesting.

“We call you teach because Theo refused to tell us who you were.” Lorenzo explained.

“Yeah, he thought we were going to hassle you or something.” Mattheo playfully scoffed, making you let out a giggle.

“Yeah, because that’s not something you would do.” You said, a smile on your face.

“Exactly, we would- hang on, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” Mattheo said, his eyes narrowed in a joking manner. You feigned a look of innocence.

“What? No of course not, I would never.” You let out, your voice dripping with fake innocence. Lorenzo, Blaise and Theodore chuckled as you batted your eyelashes jokingly at Mattheo.

“You know what, I like you,” Mattheo turned to Theodore, “I like her, why didn’t you introduce us right away, she can obviously handle some hassling.” He said, a smirk on his face making you laugh. Theodore shook his head in feign annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah whatever Mattheo.” Theodore muttered as he rolled his eyes before turning to you, “we have to go change, maybe I’ll see you later?” He asked, completely ignoring his friends who were now dramatically reenacting people kissing and batting their eyelashes at each other. You let out a chuckle at the groups antics before looking up at Theodore.

“That’s fine, I have to go study anyways.” You said smiling up at him. You missed the flash of disappointment in his eyes.

“Good job again with the match,” You smiled softly up at him before turning to his friends who abruptly stopped their antics, “It was nice meeting you guys, great match.” You smiled as you gave a small wave before turning around to trek up to the castle again. The boys shouted their various goodbyes at you making you turn around to smile and wave again at them. It was like something had shifted between you and Theodore after the quidditch match. Theodore became friendlier with you, he would even make you walk with him and his friends to the classes you shared. Sometimes if you had time after your tutoring sessions, you would join the Slytherin table for dinner, you now had a permanent spot among the group in between Lorenzo and Theodore, across from Mattheo. You found yourself growing fond of the others too, you would bicker with Mattheo like you were siblings, tease Theodore with Blaise and gossip with Lorenzo.

You became happier, more alive as you befriended the boys. You still spent most of your free time in the library studying, but you found yourself joining them for meals more often than not. You still had problems with sleep, sometimes feeling like you haven’t slept for weeks. Days would blur and before you knew it, it was mid-December, and the grounds were covered by a thick blanket of snow. You were sitting in the library under a thick sweater to keep you warm as you waited for Theodore to show up for your session. You had propped up the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, on your pencase as you refreshed your memory on Descendo. You felt yourself lay your head in your arms on the table. Last night had been a particularly rough night where you had been sleeping so restlessly that you felt more tired after you woke up than you did the night before. You were just going to close your eyes until Theodore came.

“Bella, wake up.” A soft voice said, though it sounded as it came through cotton.

“Please, bella, it’s time for dinner.” The voice said again, slightly less muffled this time. The voice was wrong though, it couldn’t be time for dinner now, Theodore hadn’t shown up for his session yet. You felt a warm hand on your back, shaking you gently. You slowly opened your eyes and saw none other than Theodore. You were confused at first, not knowing where you were and what time it was before it dawned on you. You were in the library; Theodore was sitting beside you saying it was time for dinner. You shot up.

“I’m so sorry Theodore!” You burst out, the feelings of guilt and anxiety washed over you like a bucket of cold water. He gave you a soft smile. It was one of those smiles you rarely got to see, but it made your day better every time you did see it.

“Shhh, it’s okay, bella, you were so tired, you needed the rest.” He said lowly making you frown slightly.

“It isn’t okay, Theodore, we were supposed to work on Descendo today.” You said, panic still evident in your voice.

“Y/n!” He cut off your spiralling, “I’ve practiced, look,” he did the charm perfectly on your pencase, “I might’ve looked at your book to see what you were reading up on. Oh! And I might have looked at your notes too.” He said sheepishly. Your face turned into an impressed expression as you looked at the boy beside you.

“Wow, Theo, you did really good.” You praised him, making him grin at you.

“Thanks.” He said softly before he started to gather his things. When he noticed that you still sat there, the tiredness washing over you in another wave, he closed your book and started to gather your things as well. You looked at him with curiosity in your tired eyes.

“Come on, bella, let’s get you dinner and then to bed.” He muttered softly as he closed your bag shut and hitched it on his shoulder before reaching out an inviting hand to you.

“I’m fine Theodore, you don’t have to take care of me.” You mumbled, the guilt making a reappearance in your chest. He smiled slightly as he grabbed your arm and, rather roughly, pulled you out of your seat, making you face him. His hand slowly travelled down from your upper arm and grasped onto your wrist, engulfing the upper part of your hand in the process. His action made your heart flutter and your breath hitch in your throat. He was looking at you with puppy dog eyes, the smile still on his face. His free hand found its place on your jaw, gently stroking your cheek.

“If I don’t do it, who will, hm?” He asked softly as his thumb continued to stroke your now hot cheek. You averted your eyes from his blue ones, suddenly finding the table beside you very interesting.

“I really need to study, Theo.” You mumbled as an answer. You felt how his hand moved from your jaw to grip your chin, tilting it upwards, making you look him in the eye again. Your heart was beating so fast now you were sure he could hear it, or at least feel it.

“How about we make a deal,” he said, a small smirk on his face now, “you come to dinner with me now, and if you feel like studying after you can come back.” He shrugged before nodding his head towards the exit. His eyes were pleading with you to go with him and before you could even think it through you felt yourself nod in his grasp. A smile broke out on his face, making you give him a tired smile back. He turned, not letting your wrist go, and started towards the exit of the library. You were still feeling very tired as the two of you strolled to the great hall for dinner. Theodore pushed the great oak doors open, leading you to your now usual place, next to him and Lorenzo. The rest noticed you as you came up to the part at the table where they were sitting. Mattheo let out a low whistle.

“Damn, y/n, you look like shit,” he smirked, making Blaise snort into his goblet of pumpkin juice, “is tutoring Teddy that bad?” You rolled your eyes as you sat down in between Theodore and Lorenzo.

“At least I have a reason for looking like shit, what’s your excuse?” You countered making Blaise snort once again and Lorenzo give you a fist bump under the table. Mattheo held up his hands in surrender, an amused smirk on his face.

“Damn, she is snappy today, what happened, library run out of books for you to read?” He asked teasingly. You felt a small smile twitch on your lips, despite your exhaustion. You heard Theodore chuckle beside you as you felt his warm hand on your back in a comforting manner.

“I’m surprised you knew we had a library, Mattheo.” You said, your lips still twitching from trying not to smile. He broke out in a grin making you mirror it as you put some food on your plate, before putting some on Theodore’s. The boy thanked you quietly making you smile softly up at him.

“Yeah, I found it the other day actually.” Mattheo said, mock pride in his voice making you chuckle.

“Good job! Just you wait until you can read, it will be like a whole new world for you.” You teased him. Mattheo was anything but stupid, he was talented in most subjects, he could easily be one of the best students in the school if he put in the effort. But it was an inside joke your group had that he was stupid, mostly due to some of the stupid things he says, he had a habit of speaking before thinking, but that definitely didn’t make him stupid. The group chuckled making you smile once more as you slowly ate your dinner.

“But seriously, why do you look like you just woke up?” Blaise asked, you could see a hint of concern in his eyes making you give him an apologetic smile.

“Because she just did.” Theodore said before you could even think of replying. You turned to Theodore to send him a pointed look, but he was looking at his friends. “I found her asleep in the library.” He added.

“And you scold me for sleeping in class, this is just as bad!” Blaise pointed an accusing finger at you making you roll your eyes in a joking manner.

“Oh, shut up Blaise.” You laughed, tiredness still clear in your voice.

“Are you okay, though?” Lorenzo asked you cautiously. You gave him an apologetic smile, feeling guilty for worrying your newfound friends.

“I am, I’m just having sleep troubles, I have been for a while.” You admitted. It surprised you how easily you admitted that to them, but they made you feel safe in a weird way. You looked around at the group and you saw various looks of sympathy in their eyes.

“Guys, please don’t worry, it’s been like this for as long as I can remember.” You tried to make the problem smaller than it was, but it had the exact opposite effect. You felt Theodore’s hand come up to your back once again, rubbing it in a comforting manner.

“Maybe you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Mattheo suggested, now serious.

“I mean it has been better now for a while; it was just last night that was bad, I don’t think I need to see her…” You trailed off. You felt Theodore’s hand move around to your waist, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll come with you if you want me to, bella.” He said softly, making you look at him. You felt warm inside from the concern he was showing you.

“I promise, I’ll go if it gets worse again.” You said after stifling a yawn. You saw how he smiled softly at you before he let his arm rest around your waist, letting you lean into him. You let your head fall to his shoulder. You looked around the group who still looked worried.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You said a smile on your face, “what did you guys do today?” You asked, not lifting your head from Theodores shoulder. The others were quiet for a quick moment before they started to recount their day. How they had pulled some pranks and how they accidentally intimidated a first year. You sent them a glare at this information making them apologize quickly before Lorenzo started to recount some gossip that had made its way around the school. You felt your eyelids droop as you listened to Lorenzo explain something about someone setting off a dungbomb in Filch’s office. The others, who would never admit that they enjoyed gossiping, were listening intently and they even suggested who it could be. Your mind started to focus less on the conversation and more on the warmth that Theodore was emitting. The way he was stroking your waist was comforting as you breathed in his now familiar scent. You started to just hear isolated words from the boys as you started to slip in and out from consciousness and before you knew it you were out like a light against Theodore’s shoulder.

“Is she asleep?”

“Yeah.” The voices were quiet and muffled as you felt someone grab the back of your knees, to lift you up.

“Man try something else.” You heard someone say as a frustrated sigh was heard from above you.

“Stupid riddle, stupid knocker, stupid Ravenclaw common room.” You heard someone mutter angrily from beside you, still sounding like it came through cotton.

“Finis Coronat Opus.” You heard a voice mutter and then you heard stone slide on stone.

You woke up the next morning, utterly confused but surprisingly well rested. You looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes scanned the dark green canopy above you before tracing the same green curtains that hung around the bed you were laying in. You saw a desk with a chair against the wall next to you as well as a dark brown dresser opposite the foot of the fourposter bed that you were laying in. The bed was unbelievably comfortable, the comforter thick and warm against the cold air in the room, the pillows were fluffy. You noticed that you were alone in the bed, but you were wearing a big t-shirt and a pair of green plaid pyjama pants. You shot up in panic. These were not your clothes. Just as panic really started to set a door opened and in walked Theodore in just a towel.

“Morning, bella.” You barley heard him over his almost naked form. Your eyes shamelessly scanned his toned torso as he walked towards you with a smirk plastered on his face, using the other towel around his neck to dry of his hair.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, a teasing hint in his voice as he sat down on the foot of the bed to look at you. You gulped as you felt the bed dip from his weight. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“What happened?” You settled on asking first. He let out a chuckle.

“You fell asleep by the table.” He said but chose to continue to explain when he saw your confused look. “Me and Mattheo tried to get you to Ravenclaw tower, but we couldn’t solve the riddle to get in. And I didn’t want to wake you since you were so tired earlier, so we thought of the next best thing, to, uh, bring you here.” He finished as he chuckled again. You brain was trying to piece together this information.

“Did you... did you, um, change my clothes?” You gestured to the clothes you were wearing making Theodore let out an actual laugh. You tossed a pillow on his head at this.

“What’s so funny?” You asked as he continued to chuckle, the pillow now on his lap.

“You don’t remember? You’re quite the sleepwalker.” He mused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks.

“Oh, no, what did I do?” You asked as you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. You heard how he chuckled again before you felt his warm hands around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face.

“You were adamant that you couldn’t sleep in your normal clothes once I put you down on my bed, and, well, you started to take your clothes off. Don’t worry!” He said as he saw how your eyes widened in panic, “I tossed you some clothes before I turned around, I didn’t look, I promise. But I’m pretty sure you fell sometime while you were changing but when I turned back around you were out cold on the bed again, completely dressed in the pyjamas.” He finished explaining as you let out a groan in embarrassment. He was probably right though; you felt sore on your hip.

“I’m so sorry Teddy.” The nickname just slipped out as you apologised for your antics. You saw how he tensed for a moment before a smile spread on his lips, his hands squeezed your wrists reassuringly.

“Don’t worry bella, I found it quite funny,” he chuckled before looking at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and you’re always welcome to share my bed.” He winked before standing up, walking towards his dresser. Your eyes raked over his wide shoulders and muscular back. If you said he wasn’t attractive you would be a liar. You felt the blush come back to your cheeks as he confirmed the thought that had been floating in your mind. You had shared his bed. Oh, you hoped that you didn’t do anything else embarrassing.

“You might want to get dressed, unless you want to be late.” He said as he shrugged on his pants, making the towel fall to the floor. You sprang into action, getting out of bed before getting dressed in the outfit you wore yesterday. You thanked your past self for always keeping a spare pair of underwear in your schoolbag, in case you got your period unexpectedly. As you looked at your school shirt, makeup stains on the collar, you wondered for a second if it was too much to ask to borrow one of his shirts. You turned around to face him as he tied his Slytherin tie.

“Teddy?” You said softly making his eyes snap to yours. He smiled at you as you stood there, your school skirt on along with his t-shirt. His eyes drifted to your shirt in your hands.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the stains on the shirt.

“Here.” He said, smile still on his face as he handed you one of his school shirts. You smiled gratefully before turning around again, quickly ridding yourself of the t-shirt before slipping on the soft material of the button up shirt. It was quite big on you; you noticed as you buttoned the buttons. You tucked the fabric inside the waistband of your skirt as you surveyed yourself in his mirror by the door. Theodore was sitting on the bed, looking at you. You quickly tied your tie around the collar of the too big shirt before turning around to Theodore.

“Do I look okay?” You asked gesturing to his shirt. He smiled at you from his bed.

“You look perfect, as always, bella.” He said smoothly making you blush. He stood up from his bed, walked over to you, took your hand and led you to the other door of his room, the one he came out of when you had woken up. It was a bathroom. Damn, the Slytherins really had the superior dorms, you thought as Theodore was rummaging through his cabinet before he handed you something. A toothbrush, still in its packaging.

“Here, I thought you might want to brush your teeth.” He shrugged as he grabbed his own toothbrush.

“Thank you.” You said softly as you ripped up the packaging before letting Theodore add toothpaste on it. The scene was painfully domestic as you stood there, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. After you were done you quickly splashed your face with water, Theodore, to your surprise, held out a small container with face cream. You smiled at him as you applied a small layer of the cream.

“I didn’t know you cared so much for your skin?” You asked as you walked through the Slytherin common room together. Your eyes wandered around the stonewalls and black leather couches. The common room had large windows that showed the bottom of the black lake. You let your eyes linger on the creatures on the other side of the window as you walked past it with Theodore by your side.

“It’s not all easy being this handsome.” He smirked making you let out a laugh. The two of you walked to breakfast together, his arm found it’s home on your shoulders as you were walking through the corridors littered with students. You noticed that people were looking at the two of you as they were whispering to their friends. Your eyes narrowed at them as you walked past groups and groups of people staring and whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you turned your head to look up at Theodore.

“Why are people staring at us?” You whispered up to him. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your question.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe because you’re beautiful?” He shrugged, sending you a wink before moving to hold open the large oak doors to the great hall. As you walked in the hall got quiet before everyone broke out into hushed whispers. You looked at Theodore with suspicion.

“That’s not it.” You said, narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry bella, I have no clue.” He said with a chuckle as he held up his hands in mock surrender. You decided to let it go as you walked together towards your friends. Theodore’s hand on the low of your back.

“Morning, y/n.” Lorenzo said a broad smirk on his face as you sat down next to him, Theodore next to you.

“Morning, boys.” You said smile on your face as you reached for a piece of toast.

“So, did you sleep well?” Mattheo said before coughing, “with Theo.” He added between coughs. You narrowed your eyes at the boy you have come to look at like a brother. The others let out various chuckles at this. Theodore did tell you that Mattheo tried to help him get you back to your common room last night, so you assumed he filled in the others on what had happened.

“Yeah, did you use protection?” Blaise asked with a shrug making both you and Theodore choke on your tea and him his coffee. You looked at Theodore who was trying to hold in his laughter, deciding to turn the tide you turned to Blaise, a smirk on your face.

“At least there’s a reason to ask us that, when was the last time someone asked you that Blaise?” You asked innocently making Lorenzo and Mattheo laugh.

“Oi, y/n, that was foul.” Blaise said with a grin on his face making you laugh before you turned to Mattheo.

“I heard you couldn’t solve the riddle, what was it?” You asked, curious.

“Oh, I barely remember, like something lost in the day, blah blah, comes at night, what is it?” He said, his mouth full of food. You scrunched your nose at him.

“Do you mean They come out at night without being called and are lost in the day without being stolen.” You asked curiously as you looked between Theodore and Mattheo. They both nodded, making you shake your head at them.

“Yeah, that was the one.” Theodore confirmed as he took a bite out of his toast.

“Stars, you idiots. The answer is stars.” You said with a sigh making Lorenzo let out a chuckle.

“Well, how are we supposed to know that?” Mattheo protested making you chuckle and shake your head before sipping your tea.

“Oh, I don’t know, I suppose I expected more from someone with the last name Riddle.” You said pointedly making the others chuckle again. Mattheo sent you playful glare as he sipped his tea. The rest of breakfast went by quickly, so did the rest of the day and before you knew it you found yourself walking around the grounds with Theodore before dinner. Where the others had gone you had no idea. Theodore’s arm had found its way around your shoulders again, holding you close to his side. As you were walking outside in the thick layer of snow towards the green houses a blonde Hufflepuff boy bumped into your shoulder, making you stumble into Theodore’s side.

“Watch where you’re going.” The boy said, rather rudely, making you look at him stunned when you had regained your footing. You recognised him as Zacharias Smith. You frowned at him and just as you were about to tell him off Theodore had grabbed the collar of his cloak. He was snarling as he dragged the shorter Hufflepuff closer to his face. He had a dangerous look on his face while sending the boy an icy glare.

“Che cazzo stai facendo?” Theodore asked angrily.

“O-oi-” Zacharias protested, trying to get lose from Theodores grip.

“I asked you what the fuck you’re doing.” Theodore repeated, interrupting Zacharias protesting, dangerously slow this time. You saw how he gulped nervously. Coming out of your momentarily shock you jumped into action. Curling your fingers around Theodore’s bicep you successfully got his attention away from the Hufflepuff boy.

“Teddy,” You said, your voice soft, “please, I’m sure it was just an accident.” You looked with a pointed look at Zacharias who nodded fervently in agreement.

“Y-yeah, I’m s-sorry y/n.” He sputtered out. Theodore looked at him, the cold, dangerous stare back in his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Zacharias collar. The moment he was lose he scurried away like a frightened deer. Theodore turned back to you, his eyes now back to their puppy dog look that you’ve become familiar with. But this time you weren’t feeling the usual warmth in your stomach when you gazed into them. No, you were feeling the prickling feeling of annoyance bubble up in your stomach instead, along with something else.

“What did you do that for?” You asked, glaring at the boy with fluffy hair. A small frown made its way onto his lips.

“What do you mean, bella?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Why did you have to go all ‘cave man’ on Zacharias? He only bumped into me for Merlin’s sake.” You let out in an exasperated tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Cave man? Bella, he hurt you and he was rude to you!” Theodore said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure, he was rud-”

“No one can treat you like that in front of me.” He interrupted you, his voice low. You felt the icy wind nip at your face as the warm feeling returned to the pit of your stomach.

“I- what? Why?” You stuttered, his admission catching you off guard.

“How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?” He muttered irritably as he took a step closer to you, snow crunching under his feet.

“I’m not stupid.” You scoffed, sending him another glare. He let out a laugh in frustration as he looked to the side before looking back at you. His hand grabbed your chin making you hold your eye contact.

“You are the smartest person I know, and yet you can’t see what’s in front of you.” He said, his face coming closer to yours. Your heart was beating fast as your eyes searched his blue ones. His eyes were raw with emotion as he was staring at your face.

“What?” You asked softly, still lost in his eyes. He let out a huff, eyes quickly darting to the side before they found yours again. His face was so close to yours that you could see the specs of green and grey in his blue irises. The cold air evaporated around you when his soft lips found yours. His hand that was gripping your chin moved to the nape of your neck to bring you closer, his other finding your hip, squeezing it gently. It took you a moment to realise what was happening. Theodore was kissing you. The boy you had been crushing on was kissing you. Before you could even think about reciprocate the kiss he pulled back. Worry was swirling in his beautiful eyes.

“Bella, I-” He started to apologise but your mind caught up with the situation. You interrupted his apology by kissing him, your hands grabbing onto the ends of his knitted Slytherin scarf, effectively dragging him down to your height. It felt like a breath of fresh air to be kissing him. Like you had been closed in a stuffy room for too long and he was the window that was cracked open. You felt how his soft lips stretched into a smile as he kissed you back in a gentle, slow kiss. The wind swirled snowflakes around the two of you as your arms found their way around his neck to get even closer to him. The two of you smiled as you kissed each other in the cold winter air. Only pulling apart by the loud cheering of three other Slytherins you have come to look at as your friends and brothers. You looked at your friends, laughter in your throat before you looked back to Theodore who was smiling down at you, adoration in his eyes.

“Should we get to dinner, amore?” He asked softly but made no move to go over to your friends.

“Amore?” You questioned, butterflied fluttering in your stomach. He nodded as he gently took on of your hands in his before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Amore mio.” He said making your heart beat considerably faster. He smiled softly at you making you stand on the tip of your toes to place another kiss on his lips. Yet another loud cheer could be heard from up the hill near the castle. You couldn’t contain your smile as you kissed him, only breaking apart because the cheers became too loud. With a laugh you and Theodore joined your friends before heading to dinner. Maybe there was more to life than studying. What neither of you saw was Professor Flitwick that had witnessed the whole ordeal, a fond smile on his face.

[kinzhae]

"Left Behind."

Gojo x Reader, angst with no comfort, reader and gojo drifts away as they enter jujutsu high, being left behind, reader sacrificing her life in order to keep gojo safe.

The first time Satoru left you behind, you brushed it off.

“Gojo Satoru is going to change the world,” you told yourself, smiling as you watched him walk off with Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri, his laughter echoing down the hall. His carefree attitude was infectious, and while you were happy for him, it hurt to know that you weren’t part of that laughter anymore.

It hadn’t always been this way. You and Satoru were inseparable once, bound by childhood promises and shared dreams. Back then, the world wasn’t complicated, and neither was he. The cocky smile he wore now was once reserved just for you.

But Jujutsu High changed everything.

---

You noticed the shift slowly. It started with missed conversations—whispers in the hallway you weren’t invited into, a glance over your shoulder to see him too far behind to call out to. Satoru didn’t mean to push you away. You knew that. But as his new friendships deepened, it became clear that your bond wasn’t the unbreakable connection you once thought it was.

Suguru was kind, brilliant, and calm—the perfect foil to Satoru’s chaotic energy. Shoko had a quiet wit that matched his sharp tongue. Together, the three of them felt untouchable, like the rest of the world could only stand by and watch as they carved their own path.

You were no longer part of that world. You tried to let go, you really did.

Even as the ache settled in your chest, you told yourself it was enough to simply watch him thrive. If Satoru was happy, wasn’t that all that mattered? You repeated those words like a mantra, trying to ignore the sting when he barely noticed you anymore.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

But the cracks in your heart didn’t care for reason.

One day, everything changed. You were heading back to the dorms after a long day of training when you overheard the conversation.

Two voices in the shadows.

One familiar, one chillingly foreign.

“Gojo Satoru. The Six Eyes... He’s too dangerous to keep alive,” hissed the first voice—a higher-up whose name you didn’t dare utter. “The balance he disrupts, the power he wields... If he continues unchecked, no one will be able to control him.”

“And what do you propose?” growled the second voice, raspy and cold. It wasn’t human.

You froze, your blood running cold as you peeked around the corner.

“I want him gone. Do it cleanly. I’ll ensure you have what you need—resources, bodies, whatever it takes. Just make it happen.”

The curse smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Consider it done.”

Your world tilted.

They were going to kill him.

Satoru.

The boy who laughed too loudly, who stood by you even when the world felt too heavy, who once promised you that you’d always be by his side.

You had already been left behind. But you wouldn’t lose him. Not like this.

That night, you sought out the curse.

Its presence was suffocating, the weight of its aura pressing down on you as it materialized in front of you.

“And what do you want, little sorcerer?” it sneered.

“My life,” you said, your voice steady despite the terror clawing at your throat. “Take my life, my powers—anything. Just leave Satoru alone.”

The curse’s laughter echoed around you, harsh and mocking. “Anything, you say? Bold. And what makes you think I’ll honor such a deal?”

“Because if you don’t,” you said, lifting your chin, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A lie, of course. You were no match for it. But the curse seemed amused enough to agree.

“Very well. Your life for his. But once the deal is struck, there’s no turning back.”

“I know.”

As the curse’s claws reached out, you closed your eyes, picturing Satoru’s smile one last time.

You disappeared that night.

No one saw you leave. No one even knew why. You left behind nothing but questions and an empty dorm room, your name slipping further from their lips as the days turned into weeks, then months.

Satoru didn’t notice at first. You hadn’t been close lately, after all. But as time passed, he started to feel the absence.

It was subtle at first—a glance around the training field, expecting to see you standing at the edge, watching with a small smile. Then came the ache, the nagging sense that something was missing. He asked Shoko, then Suguru. Neither had seen you.

When he went to your room, it was stripped bare, as if you had never existed.

Satoru wasn’t the sentimental type, but the emptiness you left behind gnawed at him. He tried to brush it off—he was Gojo Satoru, after all. He didn’t dwell on things. He didn’t need to.

But late at night, when the silence grew too loud, he found himself thinking of you. Of your smile. Of the way you used to scold him when he pushed himself too hard. Of the way you had always been there, steady and unshakable, even when the rest of the world felt like it was slipping out of control.

He searched. Of course he searched.

But you were gone.

---

Satoru never stopped looking. Not really. Even years later, long after the grief had settled into something dull and hollow, he still found himself scanning crowds, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He told himself it was guilt—guilt for letting you slip away, for not noticing how far apart you had grown. But deep down, he knew it was more than that.

He had left you behind.

And he would never forgive himself for it.

[trevuorzegras]

some cowboy!luke for you .ᐟ

dirt road anthem — jason aldean 💿

for @wnderify & @star2fishmeg !! ⏳

cowboy!luke having his finger wrapped around your belt loop at all times. especially when the two of you are at a bar, and he gets nervous, not wanting to leave your side.

luke’s an attractive guy, so women flirting with him was a given. it was mostly tourist, women who just weren’t from around here, and most of the time, that was very clear. he would nervously look around for you, not too sure how to put his words nicely, “look, i don’t mean to be rude, but i’ve got an ol’ lady.”

in my head cowboy!luke is absolutely a pro bull rider, entering local competitions, and traveling with his manager for bigger ones in different states. for luke, it was never about the money, it was always about his love for what he did.

until luke was 13, he was forbidden from getting on any kind of bull. so he strictly stuck to horses, and then eventually when he turned 13, he was finally able to ride his first bull. he absolutely fell in love with it, just like his brothers had.

luke never liked coffee, but you always had. so every morning since the two of you began dating, he would get up, and make you coffee. you had insisted he didn’t have to do that, but he was very persistent on doing it. he claimed “i’ll be makin’ my tea anyhow.”

when the two of you go muddin’ luke thinks it’s just the cutest thing ever to see you covered in mud. mud splatters on your face, and your clothes covered. the both of you laughing as you ride back, after a long day, hands tight around his middle.

cowboy!luke buying the two of you matching hey - dudes after seeing you borrow his to feed the horses one morning. he quickly picked up how you kept them on throughout your morning, making a mental note to buy the two of you some when he goes into town again.

random dates! an absolute must with cowboy!luke. he’ll randomly decide he wants to camp in his back yard, having a tent facing the pond. the two of you just enjoying the view, weather, and each other.

luke taking you to one of his shows, watching you absolutely fall in love with the show horses. in that moment he thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

cowboy!luke teaching you how to play pool at the local bar in town. he didn’t go there often, but when he did it was always a good time. the sweet western bartenders adored the two of you, claiming you were just the cutest couple ever, behind terry, and lorelai. you later learned, through luke, they were an older couple who had been together for fourty - five years.

cowboy!luke who loves dancing on the front porch with you. music blasting through his speaker, as he grabs your hand, bringing you to the middle of the porch, before you guys began dancing. the two of you would spend forever dancing together if it were up to luke.

cowboy!luke carries a pocket knife with your initial on it from years ago. he bought it one day when he was in town looking for a new pair of boots. he stared at it debating weather or not he was gonna make the purchase. it had been pretty early in the relationship, and he didn’t know if it was good timing. he had ultimately decided to get it, and he glad he did.

[rebelliousstories]

Rain Check

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.

Consider Donating: Here

“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell

Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.

He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.

There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.

“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.

“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.

“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.

“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”

How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.

He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.

“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.

“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.

“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.

“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.

As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?

That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.

Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.

Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.

His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.

“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.

His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.

“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.

“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”

“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.

Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.

Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.

Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.

“Where are we going,” came his ask.

“You’ll see,” she replied.

The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.

“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.

“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.

However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.

Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.

“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.

“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.

“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.

Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”

[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 3

prev and OG prompt

Dick was just about finished with his preparations in the Batjet when one of his brothers barged in and dumped some of their stuff inside as well.

“I’m coming with you” Tim straps down the case he brought and plants his ass in the copilot seat.

Dick looks at him with a slight frown, “Tim…”

“no I want to see the murder scenes with my own eyes and it’s good for you to have some backup-”

“I’ll be just fine on my own babybird-”

“-cause we don’t know if this is just one assassin or a whole organization”

“ok. and now you can tell me the real reason you want to come along”

Tim gives Dick a side-eye before slumping down“... Alf has been talking with Bruce about me needing fresh air again and I rather do that preemptively and on my own terms so you’re just gonna have to accept you’re stuck with me on this one now”

Dick sighs, and ruffles Tim’s hair before strapping himself in the pilot seat and ignoring the indignant squawk from his brother, “sure, fine, Oracle we’re heading out now”

“have a safe trip Nightwing”

and they are off

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Amity Park is about what they expected, outwardly nothing remarkable, somewhat sleepy. But upon closer inspection the signs of multiple battles are quite clear.

Though apparently it’s been quite a while now since the last “ghost” battle. There is a lot of speculation as to why among the town folks which could be important to look into some other time, but for now the boys put a pin in it and get to breaking and entering the old Fenton household for their investigation.

Things seem to be normal inside the house but… ahem, well...

Tim inspects all the strange tech that looks just haphazardly slapped on the walls with a critical eye while Dick lifts one of the family photos to have a better look.

“looks like a normal average american household to me, even with mom and dad preferring to wear hazmat suits everywhere apparently” there really aren’t any pictures where they aren’t wearing the orange and teal suits. Madeline Fenton wasn’t wearing one at the Gala though, she looks a lot more comfortable in these pictures.

Dick looks around some more, “is it just me or does this place just feel… depressing?”

“yeah no I get what you mean, there is nobody here but I also feel a lot like I’m intruding” Tim hums, “more than normal that is”

“Red…” 

Tim elects to ignore that tone of voice completely, “there is no way any of this stuff is even remotely up to code” he then peeks at the picture as well, he of course already knew what the murdered father and missing son looked like, he’s done his homework, but this is a casual happy family picture, that always drives home the fact that these were- are real people. 

but how did they all get dragged into this situation, this mess that is slowly turning into something a lot more complicated… maybe… well that’s why he’s here. To figure it out.

The stairs that lead to the basement lab are in the kitchen for some reason, and once down there they both need a moment to take the whole place in.

The entire house is rather abandoned but this place looks as if it hasn't been touched since the police did their own investigation.

There is some tape and markers that were left behind but overall it looks a lot like a hurricane went through it, exploded, and then everything got covered in a fine layer of dust.

Tim opens the case he brought with him and begins setting up the holo scanners to make a copy of the whole place that they’ll be able to project in the batcave later, in case they miss something now.

It's only after that’s done that they start to have a look themselves.

“Even this badly wrecked it definitely looks like some sort of evil lair” Tim mutters as he inspects the nearest vaguely firearm shaped object, or maybe it’s a hair blower he’s not sure, it’s got Fenton Works™ stamped on it though.

“is that a portal” Dick meant it as a question but it ends up sounding like a statement.

It gets Tim’s attention though, “I… maybe?” it kinda looks like one potentially, busted up to hell though.

Dick carefully approaches it but doesn’t for a second think about going in there,“Mostly looks like a hole in the wall now though, I’m not going in there to check with all those wires on the ground, talk about a trip hazard. Not to mention the threat of electrocution, has nobody here heard about cable management?!”

“where is your sense of adventure Wingster, besides I am pretty sure this place is cut off from electricity now” 

“yeah, I’m not taking the risk with sketchy evil lair portals today” 

Dick lets Tim do his own detective work while he takes out a little device Batman made to alert him to Deadman. He figures it would be interesting to get a read on the place and see if it's really ghosts that have been causing a mess in Amity Park or if it is something else that just appears paranormal.

The ecto-detection goes completely wild however. “Alright well… uhh”

"What's that?”

“I was just curious if something occult was going on around here what with everyone blaming the past attacks on ghosts and thinking that whatever happened here probably has something to do with them as well… but I'll be honest, Boston never registered anywhere near this high. And it's just - everywhere”

“So any further investigation into Amity Park itself is gonna have to be done by Dark?”

“probably” though Tim is also fully planning on doing a full investigation himself.

Either way, they put a pin in that too.

They have a good look at the areas where bullets made an impact, scorch marks and the broken examination tables. They are about done when Tim asks if it would be worth it to break into the local police department and have a lot at (steal) whatever evidence they might still have on the case.

They could have something useful, unless it is who Dick really hopes it’s not. 

They leave the basement and are greeted with the sight of two teens in the kitchen.

hm…

Dick decides to just go with a cheery hello,

“Holy shit it’s Nightwing and Red Robin!” Tucker basically has stars in his eyes.

“After the message we got from Jazz I kinda expected the big bat”

“That's not true, you said after all this time you didn’t think they were actually gonna come at all- ow!” Sam doesn’t hesitate to  hit him in the shoulder. 

“Didn't think we'd show up” Tim says.

“Well am I wrong?” Sam sneers, “the only reason you guys are here is cause it’s a Gotham thing now. Otherwise someone actually competent would have looked into this months ago”

Tucker shrugs sheepishly and looks a little pained, “perhaps we shouldn't antagonize the Justice League heroes?”

Sam looks about ready to start hissing, it reminds Tim somewhat of the demon brat when he's particularly upset. “whatever” she says.

Tucker now has a strained smile, “uh, if you guys were wondering how we knew you were in here, that's because Jazz asked us to keep an eye on the place”

they tripped an alarm? how… Everything in here is cut off and disabled. some sort of battery based system maybe? but they would have surely picked up on that…

Dick figures he might as well just go ahead and ask some questions so he takes a seat and the other two follow suit more at ease than the two birds expected. Tim decides to wander a bit more around the kitchen. Maybe there is something he missed here.

“so, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you two also think Daniel-”

“Danny” Sam corrects immediatly 

“-yes Danny, you two also think he's still alive?”

The question is immediately answered by a, “yes” and a, “he is”

“Jazz also seemed very certain of this despite the fact that a body was found. what makes you all so sure?”

Sam looks ready to spring into another tirade, Dick is starting to suspect that she has a serious issue with ‘not being taken seriously’

“Jazz told you guys already about the clone thing right? just go to Vlad's estate and it's all there in his evil basement laboratory”

“and we also know someone who can check deaths through occult stuff, and they confirmed that he has not… you know, crossed over”

“occult like magic?”

“or something, they were never wrong before. we do realize this isn't hard evidence obviously but they are a friend and not the type to just tell us what we want to hear” this is the easiest way to explain that they got in contact with the ghosts to have them look through the realms for Danny.

“I'd like to speak with-”

“that's gonna be hard, they don't show up with all the government people crawling about”

“so that individual with proof cannot be reached so we can’t verify their claims”

“nope”

unfortunate, but they did already say it wasn't hard evidence. It seems that these two aren’t going to budge on it which seems a little odd to Dick, there are known magic users in the League. Someone being able to check into the afterlife or whatever to see if someone is truly dead isn’t completely out of left field, it should be fine to meet with that person and at least hear them out… so why are ‘’government people’’ an issue? are they possibly wanted for some crime? oh well…

“when we went to them it was mostly just to know. you know? like… mr. Fenton got murdered and Danny went missing, and nobody knew anything or could find anything. Everyone suspected ghosts of course. and we just wanted to know if our best friend was dead or not, if searching was even worth it”

“and now the fruitloop got assassinated. to us it basically also confirms it you know. he's still alive, and it would absolutely be best to shut up the one guy who knows about the whole thing”

But why smear Masters? Why not do it quietly? And what makes Daniel so special?

Tim just knows he's going to end up with more sleepless nights because of this.

In the end the two teens aren’t actually all that cooperative. It seems they actually have mostly shown up to check what was going on inside the Fenton household, Tim and Dick decide not to push them too much then and there, figuring they could visit Master’s estate first, verify the clone allegations, and after that get back to these two, perhaps when they get more intel and have something more substantial to work these then Sam and Tucker will be a bit more forthcoming as well.

Only time will tell.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Slade had to go on some solo mission and at this point he's okay with leaving the boys to handle themselves, Danny eagerly takes the opportunity to do his own thing. 

Aka, going after politicians to get the acts repealed. Making deals with the ones who value their lives and can see a good opportunity when they are presented with one and getting his name out there. If he’s an actual threat people will be forced to listen. 

This day though he lands a hit that the supers in Metropolis somehow know about…

someone somewhere snitched, or… they are compromised. A worry for later.

"Memento Mori, they say you're trained by the Deathstroke and that you have an absolute success rate. And that you only kill your target and no one else on one of your assignments... but today all of it is coming to an end because with my tactile telekinesis I-" 

"If I had known that all I had to do to meet a real life alien was to act up a little I would have gone down this road a lot sooner" Danny leans against the AC unit on top of the apartment building they are currently on.

Kon splutters, "what?"

"Alright, okay, clone of an alien, which to me is still basically the same thing. Very cool, honestly, if you ask me, even better"

Kon puffs up, "well I am pretty awesome if I say so myself"

"Absolutely, out of this world some would say"

Kon snorts, then remembers what's actually going on here, "are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe? Is it working?" Kon pouts and makes a so-so gesture. "I do mean it though. You're easily in my top five favorite aliens"

Kon blushes quite prettily "Uhm, well I... oh wait aliens? Not heroes?"

"Ah, yeah well about that, I guess I'm not a fan of that? Especially not currently. What with you being in my way and all that"

"Oh so if I were to politely ask to not kill the lady"

"Yeah I'm still gonna do that, sorry"

Kon sighs, "well in that case I'll-" 

He promptly gets knocked back by an impressive punch to the face. Mostly stunned by the fact that it properly hurts and then realizing Danny can move at all.

"You got distracted" and gives him a wink.

Kon rubs his jaw, "Oh you think you're cute"

"not just cute, I am adorable" and Kon just knows this smug bastard is grinning at him under the mask he can’t see through.

He really wishes he didn't have a thing for dark haired spunky dangerous people.

"... it- it doesn't matter, even with your freaky assassin skills there is no way-"

"You're a bit of a terrible match up against me though, no offense" Danny is trying to not overuse his abilities. He doesn't want the justice league to know about all of them. but it'll turn into a messy and long fight where neither come out on top if he sticks with the regular stuff. And that would allow backup to arrive and make things even more complicated... 

"Damn... I just don't have time for this"

Kon makes sure he's prepared to intercept anything Danny might throw at him now.

"If you go invisible I'll just follow the sound of your heartbeat"

"Oh" Danny turns his heart off. He can't do that indefinitely while in human form though, but this will do for this fight. "How about now"

"What the-? Are you alright!?"

"Awww you’re worried? That's sweet. Supersweet one could say," Danny turns invisible, "you should really be more worried about yourself though Superboy"

Kon tries if he can keep visual with his X-ray vision, he thinks about trying to do a sweep for even the slightest disturbance with his TTK field when a freezing cold shiver shoots up his spine.  

There is a moment of silence where nothing and nobody moves and then Kon can hear Superman in the distance. 

"Kon! What's going on!"

"That little- he slipped away!" 

"That's unfortunate... meet up with Kara at Miss Holloway’s location. Together we'll be able to stop him there"

"No I think I can-" Kon tries to argue

"Superboy" superman sounds stern 

"... fine, I'm going"

Kon makes a direct beeline for the target location and a grin can't help but spread over his face. He pushes his sunglasses up a bit more to hide the glowing green eyes. 

Now that he got to this point he’s getting back to wondering who tipped the supers off though. Having to switch to plan B was rather annoying. 

And he still absolutely doesn't like overshadowing people but what can you do… mission first, personal and ethical little hang ups second.

Superboy went under so smoothly though, Danny wondered why that was until he did a careful skim of the surface and sensed the roiling self hatred. He suspects that'll do it.

Danny feels sorta bad though, Superboy really is up there in his list of coolest things this world has to offer. He'll have to make it up to him after this is all over somehow. In a way that won’t compromise himself, and also avoid the old man knowing. 

It's then that he realizes he's arrived at the target location, it's showtime!

"Here I am"

Kara gives him a wave and he smoothly touches down, it really is a good thing he already knows how to fly and stuff, makes the whole pretending to be a Kryptonian thing a bit easier. "Got away huh?"

He huffs, "he can just turn his heartbeat off, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Deathstroke's protégé's are on a different level for sure. But even they have a limit"

Right... sure... underestimate him, very smart...

Not that he can really blame them. They probably think he's a baseline human with maybe some meta abilities or just a new upgraded Ikon suit.

"Can I see the tip off?

"Again? Sure. Though I doubt you'll see anything in it that we haven't seen yet. Oracle is trying to trace it but..."

"Hm, what if..." yeah some of this was very familiar, "what if it's Deathstroke and he's treating this whole thing as a screwed up training exercise?"

"That... I sure hope not"

"He's insane enough for that though"

"I hate that you could be right"

The silence stretches. 

"Are you alright Kon?"

Danny startles a little, "Yeah! I'm just, frustrated"

"Ah, don't worry. With the three of us standing ready it'll be fine. We'll catch him" she presses her fist in her open palm.

Danny feels a careful smile spread on Kon's face. 

"Hey, you check up on the lady and I'll make it look like I'm not involved in all this. Kal is close by and after that we'll try that thing with you spreading your TTK field super far"

Using Superboy's ability as a net? Interesting. "Gotcha"

Supergirl nods and then takes off and Danny figures he might as well just get this whole thing over with now. 

The lady is right there, she barely acknowledges him when he politely greets her. Rude…

And then he snaps her neck. 

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

"Youuuu" Danny storms up to Slade with vicious green overtaking his usual blue, “you fucking motherf-”

"Boy-"

"Don't you boy me. You sabotaged my assignment!"

"False accusations?"

Danny gives him a look that screams ‘are you for real…’ "Of course I took a moment to investigate. I had to know if we had a leak. But you tipping off the supers you absolute-"

Slade nods, satisfied that Danny looked into the matter, "You were fine, you need to be challenged to learn how to adapt to any situation. The moment things become complicated you resort to your abilities"

"Get off it old man I'm only half human of course I'm using my damn abilities, they are a fucking part of me! You though- You're the biggest dick in the universe and-"

Any civilized conversation quickly ends after that as it gradually devolves into a physical fight.

"Bastard" Danny mutters as he focuses his healing to fix his black eye first. 

"Cool down brat” Slade says, looking no worse for wear, “We'll go over the whole thing in more depth later" and the veteran assassin leaves the room. 

Danny fumes as he handles his patch up himself. While doing so he allows himself a moment of self loathing. 

He hates that he's making progress getting the ecto acts removed. "working" with the people who are happily removing the thing and getting rid of those that ignorantly want to keep it in place. 

He hates that the G.I.W are easier to handle with his new skillset.

He really hates how easy this is getting. 

And he really really hates how there was zero hesitation to overshadow Superboy and use him. 

He can't wait till this is over, one way or another.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How do I write mean insults that's in character for a character to say? I'm personally poor at coming up with insults that don't sound generic or would actually cut deep, being mean in general. I want to write a snarky character with a dry sense of humour when it calls for it but don't know how to go about it.

He's also recovering from a superiority and inferiority complex.

As the writer, you know your character best, and what insults would make sense for them to say (also considering the bigger context of the scene). So, I'll just provide you with a compilation of prompts and notes from different sources, and you can choose which ones are most appropriate to incorporate in your story.

Writing Notes: Insults & Dry Humor

A List of "Sophisticated" Insults

Craven - having or showing a complete lack of courage; very cowardly

Fatuous - silly or stupid; complacently or inanely foolish. From Latin infatuate, which once meant "to make foolish," but which now usually means "to inspire with foolish love or admiration."

Insipid - not interesting or exciting; dull or boring

Obstreperous - difficult to control and often noisy

Obtuse - stupid or unintelligent; not able to think clearly or to understand what is obvious or simple

Pusillanimous - weak and afraid of danger. It's been used by such notables as Ralph Waldo Emerson ("It is a pusillanimous desertion of our work to gaze after our neighbours"), and the disgraced Vice-President Spiro Agnew, who called journalists "pusillanimous pussyfooters."

Sanctimonious - pretending to be morally better than other people. It once meant "possessing sanctity; holy, sacred." The genuinely holy aspect faded, and William Shakespeare is credited with first using sanctimonious to mean "hypocritically pious or devout."

Twee - sweet or cute in a way that is silly or sentimental. Just as buddy is believed to be a baby talk alteration of "brother", twee is a baby talk alteration of "sweet". Although twee is still considered a chiefly British term, it's increasingly popular in American English.

Unctuous - revealing or marked by a smug, ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality. Unction can mean "anointment" or it can name something used to anoint, such as a soothing or lubricating oil. That idea of oiliness led to unctuous, which can describe the slickness of false sincerity.

Vacuous - having or showing a lack of intelligence or serious thought; lacking meaning, importance, or substance

The insult would also depend on which other character it is directed at. Here is a list of "funny" insults for adults from Reader's Digest:

My days of not taking you seriously have come to a middle.

You are the human equivalent of a participation trophy.

If you were a spice, you’d be flour.

You may have a sparsely attended funeral.

I smell something burning. Are you trying to think again?

You’re like a lighthouse in a desert: bright but not very useful.

Don’t worry—the first 30 years of childhood are always the hardest.

May your life be as pleasant as you are.

You’re as useless as the “ueue” in “queue.”

Your face is just fine. It’s your personality that’s the issue.

...and for your character's significant other:

I like you. People say I have no taste, but I like you.

You continue to meet my expectations.

I’ll never forget the first time we met. But I’ll keep trying.

If genius skips a generation, our kids will be brilliant.

We were happily married for a month. Too bad it’s our 10-year anniversary.

I admire the way you try so hard.

You’re entitled to your incorrect opinion.

Have you tried doing it the way I told you to the first time?

The best part of watching a show with you is when you fall asleep because then I can watch my show.

Don’t call me crazy—you’re the one who married me!

You can always alter these to better suit your character. You can read the full list here, which also includes some insults for kids, best friends, and family.

Tips for Better Humor Writing

Humor writing isn’t all about landing a good joke (except for when it is). In creative writing, the effect is usually a bit more nuanced. Here’s a few writing techniques to get you started:

Subvert expectations. Try to undermine the audience’s expectations or reform them with structural elements.

Save the best for last. Humor is often a release of tension, so the sentence builds that tension, and the pay-off—the punchline—happens most naturally at the end. This is also sometimes referred to as the “rule of three,” where two thoughts act as a build-up to the final humorous closer.

Use contrast. Are your characters in a terrifying situation? Add something light, like a man obsessing about his briefcase instead of the T-Rex looming behind him.

Use good wordplay. Sometimes words themselves are funny, and just as often, their placement in a sentence can make a difference. Some words are just funnier than others, so make a list of those that amuse you the most.

Take advantage of cliché. While clichés are something most writers try to avoid, it’s important to recognize them,so you can use them to your advantage. Humor relies in part on twisting a cliché—transforming or undermining it. You do this by setting up an expectation based on the cliché and then providing a surprise outcome. In humor writing, this process is called reforming.

Use humor as a counterbalance. If you just pile on one terrible thing after another, it starts to become ridiculous, and people won’t buy it. Using humor is a great way to achieve the proper balance between fantasy and real life. Remember, if a roller coaster only did twists and turns the whole time, it wouldn’t be as fun to ride.

Level of Intensity

There are people who shrug off an insult (“That’s just the way she is”) and people who commit murder over an insult (“I’m avenging my honor!”). Plus, of course, everything in between. Which is your character?

To be believable, consider the following:

Personality. How hard does your character take events in general? Does s/he get really excited over good fortune and really depressed over setbacks? Then we’ll find it believable that s/he gets really angry and reacts accordingly.

The second cause of an intense reaction is the nature of the specific fight that you’re creating on the page. Lily Owens lets most of her father’s insults go by (“the art of survival”). But when he starts in about her mother, the topic is too important to Lily to gloss over. Lily’s reaction is intense. She runs away. Another type of character might merely have seethed silently. Still another might have fought T. Ray more intensively, setting fire to the house with him inside.

Finally, the strength of fights is culturally determined. Where public or even private scenes are disapproved of (upper-class London, old-money Boston, “well-behaved” families), arguments may be muted, even when the subject matters a great deal. In other cultures, volatility is not frowned on, and people may feel free to scream at each other in public. In extreme cases, murder may even be considered a duty, as in avenging a sister’s sexual assault.

Where is your story taking place? Are your arguers in tune with local or family culture? Maybe not. You can create interesting effects by portraying the rebels against the local mores: the meek child born into a battling family, the furious feminist in polite 19th-century English society.

On Dry Humor

Dry humor - is all about the subtle irony of the facts being stated plainly; it is the contrast between sentiment and reality that makes the situation funny.

The technique is known for its simple, often matter-of-fact declarations that will make the audience laugh or be perplexed (humor is subjective, after all).

With dry humor, delivery and intention create a sort of comedic cognitive dissonance or contrast. Sometimes it is as simple as using a bit of sarcasm, but it can also be more than that.

Dry humor lives and dies on the back of doing less.

Less facial expressions, less props, less setup—less is often more when it comes to landing the joke. You aren’t using a big, dramatic setup or a grandiose vocabulary to make your point.

Essentially, these jokes are derived from saying the opposite of what is meant or delivering them in a way that purposefully counteracts the supposed meaning of what is being said.

Dry Humor in Writing

The function of dry humor has often been to highlight the absurd.

It is effectively executed in moments where satirization of the circumstances at play require little more than noting the facts aloud.

When writing this sort of humor, quick, cutting accuracy is key to making the jokes land.

Simplicity is king, and an honest statement of the facts will always lead the way to finding the funny.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Humour ⚜ Laughter & Humour

Hope this helps with your writing!

[baudarling]

⠀sweetest puppy ⠀⠀﹒⠀　s.r x reader

this piece of work includes : smut, bdsm elements if you squint, sub!spencer, gn! afab reader (mentions of spencer eating reader out), no Y/N, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, riding, blow jobs, cunilingus, slight somnophilia(?), pre established relationships, pre established safewords, pup hybrid spencer; golden shepherd to be more specific.

originally requested by : @kameowwww on the #sub!spencer reid tag, and then by an anon on here :3

summary : spencer is needy, more now than ever as his rut is starting, and the only thing to satisfy his desire is his pretty owner.

wc: 3.7k

Spencer reid was needy, that was a known fact about him; even included in his files at work. Right now however the need in his gut, and his cock, where achingly painful, so much that he found himself at home waiting for his owner to wakeup while lay next to you with his hand around his cock.

He knew that jerking off while looking at you, while you were asleep no less, was wrong and that he was basically a voyeur. But it felt so good; the prospect of getting caught, and the pleasure of finally being able to touch his cock after such a long day at work.

Then he felt you shift, it made him stop in his tracks; hand still in a fist around his aching cock and precum dripping down into a pool on his hand; he gasps softly at you stirring, being too nervous and turned on to try and hide.

“spencer..?” you mutter, sleep clouding your mind; you could hear him whimpering and thats what woke you.

“i- uh, yesss..?” he trembles, his body shakes more when you turn around to look at him, his ears spiking up and his tail as still as a painting.

“what’re you doing, puppy?” the one question spencer begged in his mind that you wouldn’t ask him, but here you were, doing exactly that.

“n-nothing! i was- uhm-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as your lips crash against his, he whimpers a sound out before his eyes flutter closed and his lips start to move against yours, his slender hand, the one that wasnt still around his cock, gently tracing its way down your jawline.

“are you in a rut, spence..?” you ask, pulling back from the kiss; he nods and you giggle, slowly reaching your hands down to tug off your panties, smiling at him still.

“y-yes.. i am; aand- you looked so pretty, owner.. just couldn’t hold m’self back..” he mumbles shamefully but then his eyes dart down to your hands pulling off your panties.

“wner what’re you- you doin- ahh~!” and thats when he feels it, your pussy on the head of his aching, throbbing and red cock; the wetness and warmth of you around him is almost too much.

He starts to squirm, his hands reaching for everywhere on your body, long slender fingers tracing your waist, and your figure. Like a kid in a candy store, his tail goes wild, wagging and thumping against the mattress.

When you push yourself further down on his cock, he swears he sees every god he doesn’t even believe in. That’s when he feels you all the way down on him, and he starts to squirm even more.

“ah ah ah.. stay still, puppy.. you touched yourself to me while i was asleep, you know good puppy’s don’t do that.” the way your voice carries makes spencer comply to your every wish.

“oh~! yesss- yes oowner.. i’ll take thiss” he starts to babble, tears pricking his pretty eyes as he stares at you, hands reaching for your face needily.

You start to move yourself on his cock, he gasps and tries not to squirm, oh he tries so so hard but the way your pussy sounds around him, the way you sound when his cock hits the good spots inside of you makes him feral.

He starts to bark and whimper, his hands darting to your ass, squeezing it like a chew toy, he moans louder than he thinks he ever has; his cock leaks more.

“please- please im gonna cum! i’ve been so good- ii- i’ve been a ggood puppy- please let me cum, ownerr, pleaseee!” he babbles as he feels his cock twitch inside of you.

“no puppy.. you know you don’t get to cum, especially when you touched yourself to me while i was asleep” god you’re so cruel, he thinks, he looks up at you desperately, trying to beg his way out of this punishment.

“those eyes, are cute as they are when you give me them, they aren’t going to work.” thats when the thought that devil, if she exists, has soldified herself into his lovely owner, you would’ve let him cum by now if it was any normal day.

authors note : part 2 is gonna cum ;) soon my lovelies, this is all my brain is gonna allow me to write right now, but thankyou to kami and the lovely anon who suggested this!!

[writersdare]

You Should Always Come First | Bang Chan 방찬 Drabble

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Chan could no longer watch Y/N exhausting herself.

Warning: fluff

Word Count: 688 (drubble)

Author’s Note:  For those who are worried about an upcoming exam, test or a job interview. You can do it, don't doubt yourself ♡

“Baby, what is it?” 

Chan has noticed Y/N being rather tense that evening, yet, he didn’t want to get on her nerves with the same questions, as he pretty much knew the main reason of his girlfriend’s mood — the upcoming exams. Even though Bang Chan was sure that Y/N would pass them well, he could understand Y/N’s concerns. It’s never easy to be confident in your own abilities in general, and being under a stress it felt  almost impossible at all. The idol learnt it from his own experience. 

Chan understood that words such as "it’ll be alright" and "you know the material well, don’t worry" wouldn’t help much. Of course, support was important, yet, in the moments, when everything felt like a bare wire, each phrase should have been chosen very carefully. He didn’t want to give Y/N even more pressure — she was giving it enough herself. Chan tried his best just by saying small "don’t be harsh on yourself", "don’t forget to rest" and "I know you work hard, and it’s way more important than the result". 

Yet, when he saw that Y/N was getting angry at herself for not being able to learn important terms once again, the guy decided it was time to interfere. Her brain simply refused to accept new information, as it simply had enough today. And yesterday, and the day before yesterday… His girl needed a break. 

“It’s nothing, just can’t memorise it. I don’t know how I’m going to pass it,” Y/N sighed and closed the eyes, trying to keep herself together. 

“Let’s get some rest, it’s been a while," Chan said softly. “I’ll help you to learn it after a break, okay?” he promised and stood up from his place to take a seat next to the girl. They were in his studio, but while Y/N was studying, the idol couldn’t  really concentrate on music the last thirty minutes, being too worried for the girl. She’s been exhausting herself lately, and all Bang Chan cared about was Y/N’s well-being.

“You’re doing great, I promise,” the guy gently cuddled Y/N, trying to soothe her. Finally relaxing a bit, she went a little numb in his embrace and placed a head on Chan’s shoulder. 

“I know rest is important. It’s just… I don’t have time. The exams are in few days, and it seems like I still don’t know anything,” Y/N admitted quietly, at the same time hating herself for the recent complaining.

“Learn as much as you can, but don’t exhaust yourself. It’ll make things only worse, Y/N," Chan reminded and patted her head lightly. "And just a lunch break isn’t enough. Let’s spend this evening together, not thinking of anything, okay? Tomorrow will be a new day, and you can start again," the idol pecked her cheek tenderly.

The girl sighed and nodded,

"Channie? I’m sorry I was a bit gloomy lately. I didn’t mean it like this. It’s just… the exams–" after a moment of silence she quietly mumbled, but Bang Chan didn’t let her finish.

"I know. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. And I know it’s not easy to get distracted, when all you can think about is your exam. I don’t mean to say it’s not important, you put value on it for a reason, yet, I don’t want you to forget that it’s not the only thing that matters. You should always come first," he smiled and lightly tickled her, so the girl shivered, and a quiet giggle left her lips – she was extremely bad when it came to tickling. However, Chan was no better. "Got it?"

"Mhm. I like how you can be serious for only few minutes, and then you are back to your normal self" Y/N joked and shrieked, when the idol tickled her side once again.

"Yah! I can be very serious, when it’s needed! Do you doubt me?!" the guy jokingly outraged, feeling a warmth spreading all over his body. He missed her sincere smile and silly little giggles. After all, it’s all what he needed now.

– photos and a gif aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, gif found here @chanstopher –

taglist: @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @skz-streamer

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Main Masterlist | K-pop Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

[uhbambii]

A Satinalia to Remember

The Dellamorte villa had been transformed. What was once a stately, shadowed retreat of tall pillars, marble floors, and quiet menace now sparkled with golden light and festive color. Twinkling candles lined every windowsill, garlands draped the staircases, and ribbons in deep greens and reds cascaded from every imaginable surface. The air smelled of pine, cinnamon, and something sweet—likely the cookies Rook had insisted that Lucanis prepare earlier that day, all while she “taste tested” the batter.

Lucanis stood in the doorway of the parlor, one arm braced against the frame, a cup of black coffee in hand. His dark eyes scanned the room with a slow, practiced deliberation, but no amount of training could prepare him for this level of… festive assault.

His gaze finally landed on the culprit. Rook was curled up on the couch beneath a soft blanket, one leg tucked under her, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had decorated herself almost as much as the room—her hair tied loosely back, a soft sweater that hinted at curves he knew far too well, and the faintest dusting of powdered sugar on her cheek from earlier “taste testing.”

“You know,” he began, his voice a velvety mix of amusement and exasperation, “I’m starting to think the that the De Riva Crows sent you to drown me in garlands and twinkling lights.”

Rook glanced up, her eyes sparkling. “Is that your way of saying you like it?”

Lucanis crossed the room, his stride unhurried, predatory in its precision, before settling onto the couch beside her. He leaned back, stretching his arm along the top of the couch, his fingers idly brushing her shoulder. “Like is a strong word,” he teased, taking a slow sip of coffee. “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever be able to look at my villa again without seeing glitter in the shadows.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Rook replied, smirking as she leaned against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she sighed contentedly. “It’s Satinalia! You’re supposed to enjoy it, not sit there brooding like some tragic hero from a bard’s tale.”

“Tragic hero?” He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Tesoro mio, I am neither tragic nor a hero. If anything, I’m the shadow lurking behind the bard, waiting for the right moment to cut his strings.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You can’t even let Satinalia soften you, can you? All this warmth, this beauty…” She gestured dramatically to the room.

“It’s my charm,” he replied smoothly, his dark eyes glittering as they met hers. “You seem to enjoy it well enough.”

“Hmm.” Rook took a slow sip of her hot chocolate, her lips quirking into a smirk over the rim of her mug. “I do enjoy it. But you know what I’d enjoy more?”

“Do tell,” Lucanis drawled, setting his coffee aside. He leaned closer, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “I’m dying to know what else I can do to make you happy, amore mio.”

She tilted her face up toward his, her eyes locked on his. “Well,” she began, her voice dropping just slightly, “I’d enjoy it if you stopped pretending you don’t love all of this.” Her free hand gestured to the tree, the garlands, the twinkling lights. “Admit it. You love it. You love me. And you love the idea of doing this every year—with our child.”

Lucanis froze for a fraction of a second, his sharp composure cracking just enough for her to notice. His fingers tightened slightly around his coffee cup before he set it down beside her mug, turning to face her fully.

"Our child?" he repeated, his voice low and smooth, though the faintest trace of surprise flickered in his dark eyes.

“Yes,” Rook said matter-of-factly, setting her mug down and turning to face him fully. “Our child. The one we’ll have someday, who will absolutely adore Satinalia because I’ll make sure they have all the best memories of it. And they’ll think their father is ridiculous for pretending to hate decorating.”

Lucanis chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve already planned their childhood, have you? Impressive. Tell me, have involved am I in this scheme of yours.”

“Oh, you’re very much a part of it.” She leaned in, her voice a playful whisper. “You’re going to be the one handing me the tinsel while I tell them stories about how their father tried to outlaw fun before I got here.”

“Outlaw fun?” he repeated, his tone mock-offended. “You make me sound like some kind of tyrant.”

“Maybe you are,” she teased, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “But I like tyrants. Especially handsome ones with dark eyes and even darker secrets.”

His grin widened, and he caught her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips to press a kiss against her palm. “Flattery will get you everywhere, tesoro.”

“Good,” Rook murmured, her voice softening as she leaned closer. “Because I have plans for you, Lucanis Dellamorte. Big plans. Decorating, parenting, maybe even teaching you how to smile without looking like you’re about to stab someone.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “You mean you think I can be taught? I must be more charming than I thought.”

“You’re something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smirk.

Lucanis's smile softened as he tilted her chin up with a gentle touch, his dark eyes holding hers as if she were the only thing that existed. "You know, tesoro, you've turned this villa into something more than I ever imagined it could be," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. "A place where I actually want to stay. A home. Our home."

Rook laughed softly, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "Don't worry, Lucanis. I'll keep your secret... mostly. Although I think I might enjoy people knowing just how soft you are when it comes to me."

His hand slid down to her waist, his touch lingering as he pulled her even closer. "Soft, am I?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his lips brushed along the curve of her jaw. "Careful, Rook, or I'll have to remind you just how dangerous I can be."

"Oh, I'm terrified," she teased back, her voice warm and full of laughter. But her breath hitched as his lips traveled lower, trailing a line of heat along her neck, his hands sliding over her curves with a possessive reverence.

Lucanis's smile deepened as he tilted her chin up with a touch that was both firm and tender, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me, tesoro mio?" he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly along the curve of her jaw. "You've turned my life upside down-and somehow, I can't bring myself to care."

Before Rook could reply, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was deep and consuming, the kind of kiss that stole her breath and made her knees weak. His hand slid from her chin to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her head to deepen the angle. The pressure of his mouth against hers was unrelenting, as if he were determined to show her everything he couldn't quite put into words.

Rook's hands moved of their own accord, one curling around his neck while the other slid down his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his well-tailored shirt. The heat between them seemed to spark and grow with every touch, every brush of lips, until it felt like the air itself was charged with it.

When Lucanis finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his dark eyes burning as they locked onto hers. "You drive me mad," he murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips traced a heated path down the side of her neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Do you know that, Rook? I can't think straight when you're near me."

Rook's laugh was soft and breathless as her hands slid up his chest to cup his face, tilting his head back so she could meet his gaze. "Good," she teased, though her voice wavered with the warmth pooling in her chest. "I wouldn't want to be the only one losing my mind tonight."

Lucanis's smirk returned, but it was darker now, more dangerous. "You're playing with fire, amore mio," he murmured, his lips brushing hers with teasing softness before pulling away just enough to make her chase him. His hands roamed her curves with deliberate slowness, as if memorizing every inch of her. "But I don't mind getting burned."

Before she could reply, he captured her lips again, this time with even more intensity. His kiss was demanding, his hands sliding over her hips and up her sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He pulled her closer, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her blouse to skim the bare skin of her back. The sensation sent a shiver through her, and she pressed herself against him, her nails grazing the back of his neck.

Lucanis groaned softly against her lips, the sound vibrating through her as his hands moved to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly as he stood. She let out a surprised laugh, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he carried her toward the bedroom with purpose in his stride.

"You could've warned me," she murmured, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her delight.

"And ruin the surprise?" he teased, his voice a low, velvety murmur. "I don't think so, tesoro."

When they reached the bedroom, Lucanis kicked the door shut behind them before lowering her onto the bed with a care that belied the hunger in his gaze. He hovered over her for a moment, his hands braced on either side of her as he studied her, his dark eyes tracing every feature of her face as if committing it to memory.

"You're dangerous," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made her heart race. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "You've wrapped me around your finger, Rook. And Maker help me, I don't ever want to break free."

Her breath hitched as he leaned down, his lips pressing against hers once more, slower this time, but no less passionate. His hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her waist before moving to her thigh, his touch firm and deliberate. The weight of him above her, the heat of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers-all of it left her breathless and wanting more.

Rook's hands found their way beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming the hard planes of his chest as she pulled him closer. Her lips parted against his, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss until it felt like nothing else in the world existed but them.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his breathing ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. "Happy Satinalia, Rook," he murmured, his voice rough with affection and desire.

Rook smiled, her hands sliding up to cradle his face as she leaned into him. "Happy Satinalia, Lucanis."

—————————————————————————

So I read somewhere that Satinalia is their version of Christmas? Idk but it was inspo 😌

Eat up? I’m working with bread crumbs atp!

——————————————————————————

[edenfenixblogs]

To OP:

OP, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.

As a Jewish person, the most actionable response I have to this post is to PLEASE NEVER BE AFRAID TO SAY YOU ARE NOT JEWISH. PLEASE SAY THAT YOU ARE NOT JEWISH.

This is NOT because you are co-opting our pain if you don’t. Don’t worry! It’s because there are so few Jews in the world and it is alarming to the extreme that most of the acknowledgments and condemnations of what we are experiencing right now are 1) primarily from Jews or 2) dismissed by non-Jews because we are perceived as biased rather than accurate sources about the racism perpetrated against us. Whether or not it SHOULD be necessary is, unfortunately, a non-issue. Because at this time it is necessary. It is necessary both to show Jews that we are not alone at a time where we feel extremely isolated and alienated. It is also necessary to give legitimacy to our perspective to those who refuse to listen to us about our own subjugation, persecution, and oppression.

One tag that I use very often is “life under stochastic threat.” I use it because Jews are very much under attack worldwide right now in ways that are outright violent or that encourage isolation and fear without outright violence. Because there are so few Jews in the world and we are so spread out in diaspora, people don’t often see our suffering in the same way they would if we were all in one place. It is easy to write off one incident of violence in France and a violent mob in Amsterdam and some extremely rough stories from college campuses in Canada and America. Why is it easy? It’s easy because there are people who take things to extremes everywhere. And people can easily say “oh, it was just one synagogue.” “Oh, it was just one coffee shop.” “Oh, it was just one professor.” But the problem is that it’s “just one” SOMETHING in every single Jewish space everywhere in the world. Which means it’s something every Jew can s experiencing right now.

When you identify yourself as non-Jewish, you both signal yourself as safe as well as someone who is willing to combat the stochastic threat in the spaces in which you participate. Even if you don’t know any Jewish people, the people who you know might know Jewish people or even just have opinions on Jewish people. And it’s extremely comforting to know that people like you exist in places we can’t reach, because it means we don’t have to rely only on ourselves to combat antisemitism, which is often how it feels.

As for Jewish contributions to Buddhism: I cannot speak to Buddhism specifically, but I can say that seeking knowledge and understanding are core Jewish values and we deeply care about increasing knowledge and helping others do the same.

I deeply agree with the Buddhist perspective on hatred being a poison. I think that’s a wonderful way to put it.

Your post means a lot to me. Especially because I worry about how much Jew hatred can fester in communities where no Jews are present. Simply because the biases are so deeply engrained into most cultures as a result of Jews being around and despised for so long and in so many places. To know that you and voices like you exist in the world is more comforting than I can ever express.

Thank you for everything you’ve done here. It may not seem like a lot. But it’s so, so much. 🩵

To Other Non-Jews Speaking Out For Us:

I love you. I love you all. Thank you for what you’re doing. I know it’s not easy or comfortable. I don’t have the words to express my gratitude.

Why do you care so much?

I've been asked this question a few times in the past year - why I spend so much time thinking, reading, and reflecting on antisemitism, especially because I am not Jewish myself. There are a few reasons, really. One of them is that I think antisemitism is a hatred that spawns other hatreds, but even if it did not, it would still be worth studying, because the fact that it is a hatred at all is enough. The fact that antisemitism impacts Jewish people is enough of a reason to oppose it.

It's also because it's important to oppose because of the way it damages the thinking habits of people who believe it. I saw somebody say, "Jew-Hate makes you dumb," once. And though I think it was probably an off the cuff statement for them, it stuck with me, and I think they're right. In my religion, we say hatred is one of the three poisons - it can seriously harm your mental well-being in a way that deepens your suffering in all aspects of life. Often, hatred can also be spread like a contagion. It's something that destroys social harmony and causes severe social dysfunction. And right now, I think antisemitism is the most contagious of hatreds - I've seen people in my life fall off the cliff, I've been able to talk some back from it, and I've seen how so many people wander towards it without any idea that that's what they're doing.

Part of the problem is that antisemites consider themselves righteous in a way I think most racists don't. Often, you'll see "I'm not racist but" I almost never see that with antisemitism. They don't add that qualifier. They just say it. Most racists I know will make a tacit acknowledgment of the racist implications of what they're about to say - antisemitic people don't. They often even engage in anti-Jewish racism while invoking anti-racism.

I don't really know any Jewish people in real life, perhaps only two. But I don't need to know them to know that hating them is wrong. I think I also have a debt of gratitude to many people in the Jewish community because of the advances in Buddhist Studies made by Jewish people, which sounds strange - but it's true that many leading voices and researchers, both in academia and within Buddhism itself happen to be Jewish. I'm not sure why this is, but it's absolutely true. The most prolific translator of Pali into English that I can think of is Jewish. The most impactful Vipassana instructor in America I can think of is Jewish. The most impactful voice in Deity Yoga, for Tibetan Buddhism, is Jewish. People who are Jewish, for some reason, contributed probably more than ex-Christian Americans or atheists combined to the proliferation of Buddhism in the United States.

Buddhists and Jewish people are known to have a close relationship. There are a lot of different reasons for this that I would suggest, but none that add up to explain the amazing contributions to Buddhism made by American Jews.

I think another reason I have for being so interested in antisemitism as a non-Jew is the kind of... political disillusionment I've been experiencing? It's been a disturbing few years, and I haven't seen many people elaborate very well on this feeling of abandonment and horror, witnessing people who you thought shared your values become hateful and deeply violent in their beliefs. The only people I've seen consistently speak about it happen to be Jewish.

I think all of this has helped contribute to a feeling of closeness to Jewish people as a group, despite that I don't really know Jewish people in my real life, and only have one or two Jewish friends online. This year has been a horror show of watching people's minds become twisted - it's so scary in a way I can't quite capture with words right now.

I also sometimes have a back and forth with myself about when and if to mention I'm not Jewish when I talk about antisemitism, because I do think it's totally necessary to explain the perspective from which I speak, but to be honest it feels kind of icky to be like "I'm not Jewish, but antisemitism is bad", because antisemitism is bad whether or not the person saying so isn't Jewish, and I think it might be a negative for people to think "not being Jewish" is something which makes it any less valuable to be against antisemitism, and talk about how against it you are. It's very real that people who talk about antisemitism are perceived to be Jewish, and obviously, it's important not to lead people into thinking you're Jewish when you're not, but adding an "I'm not Jewish" qualifier to statements about antisemitism I worry might contribute to the perception that those against antisemitism are Jewish.

Antisemitism is such an insidious ideology. And it's everywhere. I see it daily in so many different spaces. It has the largest impact on Jewish people, but it also impacts non-Jewish people at times. I distinctly remember being mocked throughout school for "looking Jewish." I think about that Greek restaurant which was attacked because they were thought to be Jewish. Or that man in the Amsterdam violence who tried to help and was then accused of being Jewish himself. It's so deluded, violent, and manages to consume people's thoughts like a parasitic worm in their brain.

Anyways, I planned for this post to be more organized. Oops.