#especially if *gasp* it’s gone up in the past year

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[lalunanymph]

PAYBACK

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ when it comes to putting you back in your place, no one does it better than sylus

⋆｡°✩ tags: sylus x fem!reader, established relationship, d/ry humping, t/easing, s/ucking him off through his sweats, m/istress kink, whiny!sylus, r/estraints, b/dsm, o/rgasm control, t/ease and denial, dom!reader (for like, a little while) -> sub!reader, p/leasure dom!sylus, noncon (reader ties sylus up first), o/ral sex, petnames (baby, kitten, little dove), s/ir kink, b/egging, r/uined orgasm

⋆｡°✩ dawn says: SYLUS DAY TOMORROW !! may all the sylus wanters be sylus havers 🙏🏼 also tags were glitching on me so i had to change up the warnings format SORRY :')

"Hmm... what's this?"

Sylus blinks the sleep from his eyes to find you straddling his thighs, a smirk in place.

It's not like the Onychinus leader to ever let his guard down, but give the man a break—he's exhausted after trying to escape a raid last night.

And instead of letting him sleep, what does his precious little lover do?

That's right—she's got him all tied up to their bed.

His brows furrow, and he tugs on the knot, frustration growing alongside his respect. The knots were a solid 10/10; he could barely move if given a chance.

"Little one, what is this?" He tries to sound understanding, concerned, even.

You snicker. "What does it look like, Sy?" The pretty manicure you got on his card makes him pause. He barely blinks, taking in the sight of your hands sliding down his bare chest. He thinks the red and black combination suits you very, very well indeed.

Blood-red eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. "I would say you're playing with fire, kitten. Let me go—now."

It's an order—one you don't listen to.

"Say, Sy," you casually drape yourself all over him, enjoying his squirming. "Your neck is very sensitive, isn't it?"

Your finger trails from his jaw right to his jugular, hovering over the strip of skin.

"Shit, no," he cusses, flinching back from your touch. "Don't even think about it—"

Your lips replace your finger, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Sylus swallows down an embarrassing gasp, hands turning to fists above his head.

"Kitten, I'm warning you."

But, you don't listen to him—you never do.

Your mouth moves from his neck down to his chest, circling over his well-built chest. Your hair tickles him, trailing after your mouth that moves from chest to stomach down to his pelvis. So dangerously close to where he can feel you the most.

"Kitten, I'm serious here." His voice is a low growl, shooting a dirty thrill up your spine. "Stop teasing me and let me go."

You hum, moving your teasing little mouth to band of his sweatpants. Sylus' abs constrict the second he sees your naughty tongue lick a strip across his happy trail and he swears Devil horns appear on your head.

You grin, running your hand down the seam of his inner thigh.

"Sy," your tone is innocent, though a lustful demon is controlling you. "You're naked underneath those sweats, right?"

The 28-year-old underground leader is no idiot. He can tell when a kitten is itching to stretch her claws.

"Don't even think about it," he warns. Except, you're already doing it.

You touch the impressive bulge, proof that he was not immune to your teasing.

Oh, if only the Hunters Association could see you now. Sylus aches all over thinking about how he's gone off the deep end and ruined you—Linkon's shiniest Hunter—all for the sake of satisfying his dirty games.

The old you would never have found the guts to tie him up to his own bed and suck on him through his sweatpants. She would never have the nerve to be such a little slut.

But, he's changed you. For better or for worst, he can't decide.

Especially not right now when you straighten and he finally notices you in his black silk shirt, buttons sloppily done like a child did them, the too big collar slipping down to expose your shoulders.

Shit. An unwilling groan slips past his clenched teeth when you straddle his lap again and he sees you have no panties on. Fucking hell... she's out for my blood.

"Y/N," he growls your real name now, dead serious. "No more games. Untie me right this instant—fuck."

You grind down on his still clothed bulge, blinking your eyes innocently.

He growls, shaking his head. "I'm the one who ties you up. Or, have you forgotten, kitten?"

A tinkling laugh reaches his hot ears. "You sound like you're not enjoying yourself when this—" you reach for his dick and squeeze it, ignoring his hiss of pleasure. "—is proof that you are."

Oh. He narrows his eyes, licks his lips. You're going to get it this time.

But, your hand on him feels too good, and Sylus can't deny that a sick, twisted part of him is loving this.

His arms tense, tugging on the rope, his expression a cross between ecstasy and pain.

"If you beg me, I'll suck you off," you promise.

A hollow laugh. "Beg you? Beg. You? Shit, a-ah—no way. I'm not giving in. Not gonna give into you. I'm not—" He chokes on a moan. You're fondling his tip through the scratchy material. "Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Please?"

His voice goes quiet at the end, and you hum.

"Please, what?"

Sylus bares his teeth. No fucking way were you being dead serious.

You grin, twisting your wrist. "Say it, Sy. Please, Mistress."

His jaw ticks, glare deepening. You think he's going to give in—his surrender right at the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly, he starts to laugh. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet little kitten. You forgot something. Wanna see it?"

You stare at him in confusion, not sure what he's hinting at.

Sylus' smirk deepens, and he exhales another diabolical chuckle.

"You forgot to loop the tie, you foolish little Hunter."

Before your fast reflexes can kick in, his super fast ones have you pinned to the bed, beating you at your own game. The ropes you restrain him with are now around your wrist and you're tethered in the same spot you once had him in.

Pink dusts his cheeks, and Sylus is breathing hard like he's run a marathon. His frosty locks are a mess, but nothing is as terrifying as the sneer on his face.

It burns through you, leaving you breathless when he presses his face closer; you can physically smell the triumph radiating off him.

"What was it you said just a few minutes ago? Ah." His voice drops to a hush whisper; deep baritone caressing the shell of your ear as his hitched breathing teases you, drawing you deeper into the pit of your mistake.

Rubbing in your face how wrong you are for trying to play the master manipulator himself.

"Call you 'Mistress'? Make me beg? Oh, my little dove." He yanks the knots tighter and you yelp at the bite of pain. Sylus leaves enough room for you to wiggle around and make sure the blood still flows, though there's no other give.

Once again, you're trapped under him.

"I can smell your fear," he mocks, raising a brow. "It's so... addictive."

Returning the favor, Sylus nudges your chin up. "Lift your face up, baby. Lift it."

His mouth touches the nape of your neck, dragging towards your pulse point, your jaw, and back to your collarbones, leaving hot and wet kisses everywhere he can reach. Your sweet sounds are addictive, driving him crazy.

"You kissed me all over my body," he drawls in that seductive accent.

Another wet kiss on your shoulder. Sylus takes his time to unbutton the shirt you stole from him, humming under his breath. You flinch once your chest is exposed, and his smirk deepens.

"No way to escape for you now, kitten."

"Sylus, I'm sorry," you blurt out, but it's too late. He's already decided on your punishment.

"Tch." Clicking his tongue, he stands, looking ravishing in just his low slung, gray sweatpants. "I'll be back, little dove. Wait for me."

You can't see where he's disappeared to, only hearing him come back with more loops of rope.

"What's that?" you squeak.

"Nothing for you to worry," he hums, grabbing your ankle and fastening it with a round of rope, attaching it to the bed post. He does the same with your other ankle, and you're truly spread out for him with no way to escape.

Caught in his web you spun of your own stubbornness and greed.

"Sy—"

He shushes you, bringing a dark material right to your face and you tremble when you realize what it is.

"I told you that you have nothing to worry about, little dove," he murmurs, fingers working deftly to secure the blindfold around your eyes.

Darkness encases you, and you're tied to his bed, spread-eagle and helpless.

The bed dips beside you, and you feel the heat of his body hovering over yours.

"Now, what did you do to me a few moments ago, little dove? Oh, right." He grabs your face, tilting your head back. "You kissed me all over my neck."

His mouth resumes its carnal path across your sensitive skin, your hips bucking whenever a bite of pain from his teeth grazes you.

"My chest."

Sylus mouths at your collarbones, smearing hot kisses down your clavicles, over your breasts, stopping to suck and tease your nipples until you cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, I forgot how sensitive your sweet buds are," he murmurs huskily, pinching your nipples until they swell and throb. "What else did you do, hmm? Oh, yes..."

The marks of heat move down your body, right to your tummy; his kisses loud and lewd.

"Mhm, you kissed me right over my stomach..."

"Sy." Your whimpers draw another evil smirk on his handsome face. He can tell you're crumbling in real time. "Please."

You have no idea what you're begging for. But, Sylus hears you loud and clear.

"Don't worry, little dove. I won't tease you like how you teased me." His voice is magnetic, drawing you deeper into his web with his husky baritone and deep whispers. "Not... like... this..."

As he speaks, he caresses your stomach, loving how it flexes and twitches when he moves his touch right to your inner thighs.

"Do you want me to eat you out, kitten?" Sylus hums, and you fight back a shiver at the possessive undercurrent in his question.

"Yes," you admit, unable to help yourself. Your hips quiver, a moan falling past your mouth when he presses a languid kiss onto your inner thigh. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" he taunts, drawing circles on your hips with his thumb. "Ask me nicely and I might oblige, little dove."

This is Sylus in his element—on top, domineering and controlling all the ropes. You have no choice but to give into him if you want to feel the barest hint of pleasure that he's holding back from you.

"Sir," you gasp, flinching at the bite of his fingernails digging into your plush thigh. "Please, Sir."

The second the word leaves your mouth, he's all over your drooling cunt.

Sylus eats you out in broad, languid strokes, focusing on your clit; using his tongue to play with it, bathing it with tender mouthfuls of praises and degradation all in one.

You wanna come, baby? Wanna mess up my face?

In another breath, he pushes a finger past your quivering pussy, curving it upward to hook on your softest spot. Your hips drive forward, a yelp perforating the heavy air.

No, kitten. You can't come. You can't—oh, fuck.

Sylus drinks in your taste, spreading your shaking thighs further apart. His broad palms trickle up your chest, cupping your heaving breasts and playing with your stiff nipples. He pinches them just as his tongue slips inside your tender heat, nose rubbing against your clit.

Tears stain the blindfold, your mouth hanging wide open in ecstasy. Sylus wishes he could paint a picture of you looking this wanton and needy.

You can't come, baby, he murmurs in between your folds. I won't let you. You've been such a bad girl. I'm gonna edge you until you can't think. Ah-ah. No cumming. No, no. He grounds you back down onto the mattress with those large palms, stopping you from grinding on his face.

I'm gonna ruin every orgasm you have—don't think I don't know when you're coming, baby. I know you. I can taste you. I know when you're close.

Your body is taut as a bow, teeth gritted and nails digging crescent indents into your palms.

Every time you climb towards the point of no return, Sylus drags you back down; backing away from your pussy, leaving you squirming and desperately writhing on the bed for minutes on end until your orgasm fades away—only to restart the entire process again from square one.

"Now you feel my pain, little dove?" He wipes your tears away, humming lowly. "It's not nice to tease people, isn't it?"

Point taken. You mumble his name, and twist your head as if trying to search for him. "Sylus, please. I wanna come."

Oh? This delights him. You're finally breaking down. You want to come, little one? Then, beg.

Your hips clip all needy against his, and your mouth puckers into a frown.

"Sy—"

He grabs your chin, holding you fast as his lips barely touch yours. Beg me.

Please. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but him. Please, Sy. Please, please. Make me cum.

He's back between your thighs, a fiend for your pussy. Sucking, licking, moaning and breathing deeply—it's erotic and obscene, salacious sounds bouncing across the walls. Your head is spinning, the entire room tunneling into one singular sensation of his tongue deep in your cunt.

Those slender, calloused fingers are back on your nipples, bringing you to the brink of insanity. You've bitten your lips hard enough to draw blood; your hips buck, and you're begging for him to give you a reprieve without a second thought.

Please, Sir. Please. Please make me come. I can't—I need it. I need you.

Yeah? A ghost of his chuckle caresses through your folds and you think he's going to relent.

Going to give you what you want, so you try again.

"Please?" You're so close it almost hurts. Your thighs are cramping, arms straining, back about to break with how tautly you're struggling in his restraints. "Please? Please, Sy. Please."

"Mhm," he murmurs, and you think he's going to give in. Finally going to let you climax after stringing you along for what feels like hours.

"No."

He kisses your clit as tears of frustration trickle down your face.

Sylus was never going to give you what you wanted—not when he already has you in the palm of his hand.

— scenario inspired by one of my fave y2f audios <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated <333

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[literaila]

are you stupid?

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured and satoru isn't cool with it

warnings: literal hurt/comfort, descriptions of a wound bad enough to warrant stitches, little angst, fluff, slightly ooc satoru

last part | next part

*

year six.

“are you stupid?” 

your hands are frozen to the touch, barely able to grasp the doorknob when his voice comes from nowhere at all. 

you almost don't notice it when satoru opens the door. you have to blink to focus on him, but by the time you do, you're already falling against the empty space in front of you. 

satoru is quick to catch your arm, righting you before you break your nose on the hardwood.

“that’s my line,” you tell him, slightly coughing--it sends shocks down your spine and you shiver. you shake his hand off of you, trying to walk forward, but there's a wall of a man standing there. you blink at him. "hey, satoru. would you mind moving?” 

“i could smell the blood from down the block,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, completely still. “what did you do?” 

you roll your eyes, waving a hand (even though it makes you a bit woozy). “there’s no way you could smell that. it’s not even that bad.” 

“it’s dripping down your shirt.” 

you pout, looking down. "i just washed this, too.” 

it is a lot of blood, you realize suddenly. you would definitely get some looks if you were walking down the street in public. 

still, you don't feel all that banged up. it's not really your fault that you were slightly distracted when that curse snuck up on you... or at least, you're pretty sure it's not. 

satoru, shaking his head--maybe finally realizing that you're fine--moves out of the way, holding the door open for you. "what did you do?"

you step through, using the wall to keep you steady. “how do you know i did anything?” 

you finally look at satoru, even though he's fading from your eyeline, in and out of focus. he's not wearing his blindfold or his glasses, and he's got a frown that rivals one of megumi's at the moment. 

it makes you laugh, just a little, as you try to shake the shoes from your feet. 

he was probably sleeping, you think. usually, you'd probably feel... at least slightly bad. but right now? you don't even care. 

you're just happy to see him, right in front of you like your own personal greeting card. you've only been gone a day, but satoru feels much further away than that. 

especially with his frown and his furrowed eyebrows. he's in a mood, you remember, frowning. 

“why are you bleeding, y/n?” 

you cough again, tapping his chest as you move past him. “jeez, lighten up, satoru. i’m good,” you say this as you limp down the hallway, wincing with every step. 

you don't get to watch satoru's eye roll, but it takes less than a second for an arm to wrap under your shoulders, satoru forcing your weight onto him, and he practically carries you through the house until you reach the kitchen, where he sets you on the countertop. 

he's looking at you like you're a fragile baby bird. 

and he doesn't bother to ask--of course he doesn't--before he lifts your shirt from your abdomen, it slightly sticking (due to the blood) before it rolls up. 

satoru's eyes widen as he inspects you. "woah," he whispers, paling just a little bit. 

you don't look down with him--because that's a terrible idea--but you watch satoru. 

you can barely feel it, actually. it's basically just a minor cut, nothing too--

you try not to gasp when satoru presses a finger near your ribs, not directly touching the wound, but far too close to it. it would be embarrassing to double over in pain, wouldn't it?

“is it bad?” you wonder, breathlessly, feeling a bit light-headed. 

satoru’s head snaps up, “you didn’t look?” 

“i was a bit distracted. the curse wasn't gracious enough to give me the chance to grab a couple of bandaids, the bastard."

“how did you even manage to do this?” 

your eyes trail down unconsciously, but all you can see is your bunched-up shirt--drenched in blood. yeah, you'll probably have to burn it. 

satoru is looking up and down, his face entirely disgusted, nose scrunched up and eyes avoiding your own. 

it makes you laugh a little--because you're very familiar with satoru and his opposition to anything humanly--which then makes you wince with him. 

it doesn't hurt that bad, really. 

“can you get the first aid kit?” you ask him, pushing his hands away from you and your cut. but as soon as satoru isn't right there to lean on, you begin to tilt forward. 

satoru immediately resumes his position as your pillar. “are you kidding? i’m calling shoko.” 

“i know how to do stitches, satoru. it’s late.” 

“you need, like, a stomach replacement for that.” 

you roll your eyes, leaning even further into him. at least when you're pressed up against his chest, you don't have to breathe. “you’re so dramatic.” 

satoru is still frowning. “doesn’t that hurt?” 

“nope,” you lie, sitting up and pushing his hands away again. “i’m running on adrenaline. it’s not that deep, anyway.” 

he gives you a hard look. 

you sigh. “what’s wrong with you? you can drop the act.” 

“what act?” 

“the ‘i’m the caretaker’ act.” 

“what if i came home with a hole in my stomach?" satoru's jaw is clenched. "what would you do?” 

“i can't think about hypotheticals right now, satoru,” you whine. “please get the first aid kit?” 

“should i get megumi too? might as well teach him how to stitch you up, he's getting to that age, you know.” 

“funny,” you say, dryly. “do you want me to bleed out on our counter, or…?” 

satoru sighs, but he walks out of the kitchen a moment later. hopefully to save you from dying. 

you exhale, feeling your chest tighten. you can't feel much, for the most part. but then there's that feeling every couple of seconds, a memory of the whole thing playing out-- except your head is fuzzy, and everything looks sort of… colorful right now. 

you can’t even remember how you got here. or the last time a curse managed to actually injure you. 

it feels a bit juvenile, really. 

especially because you’re in no position to be taking care of yourself—but in no world would you wake up shoko in the middle of the night for this. in no world would you wake up anyone, except for satoru, to deal with you, with your blood and your stubbornness. 

god, you hate pain. you hate having to wash blood out of your clothes, and you hate sitting here by yourself. 

you slump down. only seconds have gone by, but it feels like so much more than that. the wound burns, you think, in an unnatural way. 

you probably got poisoned and you're probably going to die and satoru is going to stomp on your grave, and--

“do we even have enough gauze to cover that up?” satoru is asking you when he walks back in. he's wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, you realize, watching him. 

his eyes are stern, focused, and the rest of him is morose. you should be able to gaze at him, to stare--but you can't because your vision has spots in it, and everything about satoru is too hard right now. 

he’s been like this for days. casual but stuck—like he can’t find it in him to laugh about anything. his face has been a field of lines, with no breaks in between, and his eyes have been greyer than they should be, a sort of dim color that you hate. 

satoru's eyes are wild, usually. they are blue fires and the vast expanse of the universe. 

but not right now, when he's looking at you like this. and not this week--because he's barely been looking at you at all. 

and it's unfortunate not just because you miss him, but because you're not as good at casting it all away as he is. you can't shove things aside and make light out of the darkest situations. 

you can't fill his role, and yet you keep trying to. 

it's an inevitable cycle of failing and never being enough. 

“i’ll just cut up your shirt if there’s not enough,” you tell him, putting on a smile so he can’t tell how badly you want to start crying.

is this real pain, you wonder, or a dream? 

“use your own shirts.”

you pout. “but yours are the best quality.” 

satoru rolls his eyes, again, and begins to wipe off all of the well-used tools you have. a needle you've had for years, stolen from jujutsu high, and thread you can't remember taking. 

“what are you doing?” you try to grab the instruments from his hands, clumsily, almost cutting yourself again in the process. 

satoru is quick to hold them away, keeping them up and out of your reach. not that you were going to try very hard anyway. 

“i’m going to stitch you up," he says, like he's scolding you. 

“you don’t know how.” 

“please,” satoru scoffs, shaking his head. he gets a cloth wet under the facet, and then holds it towards you. “i probably learned how to do this before you were even born."

“when you were nine months old?” 

“clean it.” 

you listen, holding the cloth to your wound and still not looking down. it feels sort of ticklish, and also like you're being tortured. 

“you don’t have to,” you tell satoru after a moment, breathing through the nausea that comes with the pain. “i know you’re squeamish around blood.” 

“i am not squeamish.” 

you grin at him. “sure.” 

satoru looks up, and finally, his face relaxes, just a little bit. you can even see the workings of a smile on his mouth—the first you’ve gotten in days. 

he shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. sit up.” 

“seriously,” you say, again, catching his hand just as he’s about to touch you. “i can do it.” 

“seriously, i’m not letting you. your hands are shaking.” 

you look down, releasing his wrist. “oh.” 

“yeah, oh.” 

satoru kneels so he can see your cut properly, his face narrowed in concentration. you focus on him as he touches the tender skin by the wound, featherlight fingertips trailing across your skin.

you shiver and apologize under your breath. 

he hasn't been this close in days. 

“does it hurt now?” he asks you, voice so quiet that it almost echoes through the house. 

“not really,” but you look up towards the ceiling. somehow you know it’s going to be worse if you watch. 

“i can call—“ 

“no, satoru. i already told you, if you don’t want to do it then i—“ 

“okay, i’m doing it. i’m doing it.” 

you close your eyes when he punctures your skin, waiting for the feeling to subside. it's just a prick, but you still have to think about getting the mail, going to the store, taking a shower after this, or maybe just crawling out from your own skin and becoming a spirit.

but satoru seems to recognize this, maybe from your face, and he asks, “what kind of curse was it?” 

“dunno?” you breathe out, mapping a picture on the ceiling in your mind. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i can't remember.” 

satoru looks up. “what?”

“it’s all a blur,” you say, wanting to shove his hands off of you. you've been trained to kick people away, so it's really not your fault. “i think i won though.” 

“i don’t think this is winning.” 

“keep going,” you tell him, instead of arguing. “i’m fine.” 

satoru tsks but does as you say, resuming the smooth movements of suturing. any normal day, you'd probably want to watch his hands work, want to inspect his job and make fun of him for the way he holds his breath while looking at an open wound.

“how were the kids?” you ask him, after a moment. 

satoru breathes out, nodding. his hair is messy, his face slightly wrinkled from sleeping still. “they missed you.” 

“it was only a day. did megumi get that book report back yet? he was worried about it before i left, but i told him—“ 

“i missed you.” 

you look down, forgetting about pain or blood. “what?” 

“i miss you,” he says, this time, like it’s any different. satoru keeps his eyes down, his hands moving. but there's a guilty look on his face--something that tells you he didn't mean to say anything. 

“satoru…” 

“are you still mad at me?” 

you tilt your head. “mad? why would i be mad at you?” 

“you haven’t been coming to bed,” satoru answers, obviously.

your eyes widen. “satoru—“ and there’s a sharp pain in your side. 

“sorry,” he murmurs, softly, at your flinch. 

“i’m not mad at you,” you tell him, trying not to double over. your voice is high-pitched and breathy. you feel like a child—ridiculous and foolish—but it doesn’t stop you from speaking. “i was never mad at you.” 

“you weren't?” 

“you asked me for space. i was just giving it to you.” 

satoru pauses, looking up at you. 

“i… i didn’t want to push you into talking to me. i thought—i don’t know, that maybe things had changed. i mean, we don’t have to…” you wince, and it’s not because of the pain this time. “to sleep together. or in the same room. if you don’t want that anymore—“ 

“no." 

"no what?" 

he shakes his head. "i want that."

“satoru, you’re not going to hurt my feelings—“ 

“i was wrong," he cuts in, voice rough. you don't think you've ever heard him say those words before. "i don’t want space, i never did.” 

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “then why did you…” 

“i—“ he stops. looks around. “does it hurt?” 

and you know, just as you know most things about satoru, that he can't continue. that the truth is going to cut just a little bit too deep--deeper than your injury--and he can't bring himself to say it. 

so you only take another deep breath, pushing away the feeling of your skin being patched back together, and nod. 

“a little,” you say softly. 

an unspoken understanding passes between the two of you, and breathing gets a little bit easier all of a sudden. 

maybe it wasn't the pain. maybe it was just the tension, the build-up of days apart. 

it makes sense, even to your slightly fogged-over mind. 

and then the two of you sit there while satoru patches you up, sharing a glance every couple of seconds—a glance with so many words, so tender and feeling that it succeeds in making you even dizzier. blood loss has nothing on the way satoru makes you feel. 

you can't see his hands--don't dare to--but you can feel the softness of them, the care he's taking in stitching you up. 

if it were any day, you would laugh at him for it. but right now, you just accept it. bask in it. 

“how’s that feel?” satoru whispers to you, after he’s tied it off and wiped the blood from your skin. 

you don't bother to look down. really, you don't want to see the freshly sutured line on your abdomen, but also, you just want to keep looking at him. 

it's much more gratifying, at least.

“good," you say, voice stronger, easier. "is it going to scar?” 

satoru scoffs. “if you wanted untouched skin then we should’ve called shoko—“ 

“shut up,” you interrupt. “i’m not listening to the medical advice of someone who’s never gotten a scratch in his life.” 

“i let you scratch me.” 

“well, obviously, i’m the exception,” you smile at him, exhausted and sweaty and still a little out of it—but home. with him. 

and this time satoru actually smiles back. 

it’s a bizarre thing, his smile. the first one you’ve gotten in days and it wakes you up immediately. almost like realizing you’ve been in the dark for weeks, just getting a glimpse of the light. 

he's a peek into something more--unearthly. if the closest thing you get to divinity is satoru, then you won't complain.

“you okay?” you ask him, but you’re only teasing. 

“that’s my line,” he says. 

“you sure?” 

satoru leans towards you, forehead against yours. “i’m sure.” 

you sit there for a moment. satoru is usually the one clinging to you, but tonight you feel like if he moves away you might never get him back. 

so you sit there, make sure to hold him to you, secure with your hands wrapped around his biceps, his arms grazing against yours as he leans against the counter. 

you're probably a mess right now--your skin stained with blood that shouldn't be outside your body, your face covered in dirt, your hair and clothes drenched in sweat and rain. but satoru doesn't seem to mind, so you don't think about it too hard. 

he deserves it, at least, for making ridiculous assumptions. you have to get him back somehow, after all. 

after a minute, or two, or maybe even three, you clear your throat. “great. i’m alive, you’re… less annoying than usual. let’s go to bed.” 

“‘less?’” satoru gapes at you, but his laughter is unmistakable. 

“yeah, i know," you say, feigning shock, "i was surprised too.” 

he flicks your forehead but you’re still smiling at him. 

“okay,” satoru whispers, leaning back. “bedtime.” 

you rub at the spot around your wound one more time, already feeling the days of sore skin and itchy muscles, and then you push satoru so you can hop off of the counter. 

“hey,” he says, suddenly, stopping you. his voice is quick, almost lost. but his hands wrap around your wrists, keeping them between the two of you so you can't escape. and satoru's eyes are on your face, flickering between the different points of your skin, looking like he's just realized that he's lost something.

you raise a brow, but don't push back against his chest or try to pry his hands away. “what?” 

satoru swallows, still watching you. 

his eyelashes are long enough to touch his skin, and his eyes are blue enough to take up the whole world. you want to grin at the saturation of him--so much brighter than you've seen him in days--but you refrain. you don't want to scare him away. 

but you're not so eager to move. it's easy to wait on satoru, really--to wait for his words, to let him collect his thoughts--because you've only spent nine years studying his face. you've only admired the slope of his nose and the tilt of his chin since you were sixteen, and there's much more to be discovered. 

so staring at him is simple. especially when there's so much to look at. 

you have plenty of unmarked territory you need to take over. 

you keep a slight smile on your face while you wait, and eventually, satoru groans, hanging his head back. 

“what?” you repeat, laughing just a little. 

“can you stop looking at me like that?” 

“like what?” you nudge your head against his chin, and satoru glares at you. 

“i’m trying to be serious.” 

“oh, okay,” you try to push away your smile, but you can't. it's glued where it is. “i’m serious.” 

“you’re not.” 

“what is it, satoru? i’m listening.” 

his eyes meet yours, again, and you almost flinch. 

everything about satoru is forceful, except for the way he looks at you. the way his eyes relax, his entire face falling when you're both eye to eye. it's a look you've only observed on one person, in only one particular moment. 

and, you think, all of a sudden, it might be your favorite look. 

but you're still fed up with waiting. you're tired of his consideration, his contemplative eyes. you want satoru back--with his ridiculous laughter and stupid jokes. you want him irritating the sanity out of you and simultaneously bringing you to life. 

you don't tell him that though, because in this moment you'll take what you can get. 

any version of satoru is better than none at all. you’ve learned that the hard way. 

“hey,” he says, one more time. his smile is unusual, a frightened little thing. “i love you.” 

you freeze. 

your face falls flat, thinking of the words in a million different ways. you might've misheard him--but you're so locked in on him that it seems impossible. 

at once, you consider exactly what he means, so many different variations of the same thing. 

does he love you like your parents did, always too much but never enough?

does he love you like you love megumi and tsumiki—like your life depends on it? like you’d be wrecked without them? 

or does satoru love you like you love him? does he love you like it’s breathing? like there’s never been a choice in the matter? 

but, it's simple. a beat passes, three seconds of contemplation--just enough for the words to ring true throughout your body. 

the way he’s looking at you is enough to answer any question you have. 

satoru loves you like a promise, and nothing less. 

“you idiot,” you say, a sudden, day-breaking smile on your face. “don’t you think i know that?"

*

"should we wake them up?" tsumiki asks, walking up behind megumi, staring down at you both. she's rubbing her eyes, her hair slightly messy.

megumi considers it for a moment.

neither of them have woken up like this in a while. you and gojo are getting better at falling asleep in bed instead of on the couch.

but, at this point, megumi thinks that it's probably a habit. or just to annoy him.

gojo's face is shoved into your chest and your hands are tangled in his hair. the both of you have silly smiles on your faces, and seriously. how do you both manage to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

"no," megumi whispers, yawning. "i can make breakfast. mom probably got home pretty late."

"okay," tsumiki says, still staring.

megumi rolls his eyes and walks away. honestly, what did he do to deserve getting two idiots for parents?

*

next part | series masterlist

[lilacs-stars]

moon + tides

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k

A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!

If you could go back, would you change what happened?

This is something that you often ask yourself. 

You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.

Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”

Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.

You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.

You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.

A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.

Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance. 

Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.

A pirate.

Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.

The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank. 

“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.

You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.

Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash. 

He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.

That was it.

You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.

You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.

It was him.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.

Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.

You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.

Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.

Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.

As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.

The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.

“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”

You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.

A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.

You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.

You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”

“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.

“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.

“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”

You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.

“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.

“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.

“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”

For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.

Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry. 

“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.

“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”

Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.

“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him. 

Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?

“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.

“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”

Wait, what?

“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”

“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”

“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.

“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”

With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”

You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.

Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”

And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.

You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.

You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in. 

Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory. 

You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it. 

Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.

It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.

Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.

Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.

Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.

“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.

You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”

“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch. 

The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.

James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.

Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with. 

James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”

He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”

You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”

James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”

You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose. 

You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort. 

You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound. 

James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon. 

As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently. 

You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again. 

As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night. 

But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean. 

on to part 2! ->

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[doodlebugg16-blog]

|| Come Back, Come Back To Me

Azriel x Rhys!Sister

|| summary: after hundreds of years in hiding, you decide it’s finally time to come back home

|| warnings: angst with happy ending, crying, fainting, reunions,you’re Rhys’s sister, lemme know if I forgot anything

|| a/n: hii… literally wrote this on a whim. Idk if imma continue it or not but I hope you enjoy it at least a little bit even though it’s blah and super rushed lolol

It was pouring. Your hand failing to shield the rain from blurring your vision. Your shoulders had slumped at the view. After hundreds of years, you had finally made it. The Illyrian Mountains. Almost home. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins, pushing you to keep going.

Once you had made it to the west end of the Night Court, your body was giving up— begging for rest. Before you could take that last step towards Velaris, the world blurred to black.

Hushed voices stirred you out of your sleep. Blinking your eyes open, adjusting to the light, you noticed the room had gone silent. Once your eyes adjusted, you notice a female with long brown locks and freckles. She was beautiful. You had turned your head to survey the room only to be met with very familiar violet eyes. Gasping, you sat up lunged for the man before you, tackling him in a hug.

“Rhys! Gods, I thought I’d never see you again!”

He pulled me away and held my face. His face filled with grief and confusion.

“This can’t be real. Tell me this is real.”

Tears spilled from my eyes.

“It’s real. I’m home now.”

That all it took for his eyes to water and slide down his face. He pulled me into another hug, tighter than the last.

“I’ve missed you dear sister….I- I thought I had lost you.”

“He almost had me…I barely escaped. He—they’re gone, Rhys…They’re gone!”

I couldn’t control the sobs breaking through my words.

The past week you refused to leave the library and your room. Your excuse was that you wanted to enjoy the peace of not having to hide anymore, but Rhys was too smart for that. He knew you were worried about revealing yourself to Cassian and Azriel. Especially now that the things that made you who you are—now gone. Your wings.

You couldn’t bare the thought of them looking at you differently. You felt helpless. You felt that you were nothing without your wings.

You huff as you pushed a book back into its rightful place, loosing interest in reading at the moment. Gasping, suddenly feeling a chill up your leg. Your eyes darted down, catching a shadow speeding away. Following the shadow with your eyes, you saw the shadow reach its holder. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Azriel.”

You choked out.

He shook his head in disbelief and rushed you into an embrace. Taking in his scent, you held him tighter. A slight tug in your chest had you pulling away and peering into his eyes in fear and confusion.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you….mate.”

A smile reached your eyes as tears spilled down your cheeks.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 159 }

proud to be yours.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

“do you mind turning on the news at 7pm? i have a press conference that i'm kind of nervous about...”

while you were in the midst of making breakfast this morning, jinwoo had come up behind you, casually wrapping his arms around your frame. he brings your back to the front of his chest while telling you his odd request. you giggle, and upon hearing such a delightful sound coming from your parted lips, jinwoo couldn't help but let out his own chuckle in response.

you bask in the vibrations felt with his laughter, swaying side to side with him as he kept his arms around your abdomen. jinwoo seemed to feel a bit playful when he presses several, audible kisses against your hair while gently nibbling at your earlobe.

the sensation of his teeth against your skin makes your laughter increase by a tenfold, with playful protests falling from your lips as you begged him to stop tickling you so much.

jinwoo finally relents after spending the next several minutes teasing and tickling you, keeping still as he gently turned you around so that you were now facing him. meeting his gaze, you play with the front of his suit and smile.

"what's this? you're dressed awfully nice for just a regular day at your guild. and really, i didn't peg you to be the nervous type in front of the cameras."

your boyfriend rolls his eyes at you, reaching down to grab a hold of your hand as he places it against his lips, kissing it momentarily before letting go. "sorry, i'm a little nervous about the conference promoting my guild. that's why... i'll feel so much better knowing that you're watching."

you let out a hum, smoothing out his suit once more while flicking away an imaginary piece of lint (just as an excuse to touch him more).

"if it means so much to you, then i guess i can watch your live conference." your voice was painted with feign disinterest, and you had to fight back a grin when jinwoo begins to pout at you. knowing that you were simply teasing him, he takes a hold of your hand once more before gently biting down at the side of your pointer finger, making you laugh even harder in response.

"alright alright, i relent. i promise i'll watch your conference with love shining in my eyes, only for you."

jinwoo flashes you a smug expression before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. "much better."

his grey eyes look at the time settled on your digital clock, letting out a gasp before pressing one last kiss against your forehead. "damn, better leave now before i'm late!"

he takes quick strides toward the front door, "beru, watch over her until i return."

you felt something shift beside you, hearing jinwoo's most loyal shadow soldier's confident affirmation before disappearing back into your shadow. ready to lock the door for jinwoo, you saw him step out of your shared apartment before stopping.

"you promise to watch the news at 7?"

unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you lean in to give jinwoo one last kiss before shooing him out of your shared home.

"quit worrying, i'll watch the news at 7, okay? now go, or else you'll be late!"

jinwoo's eyes shine with love for you before finally heading out, allowing you to watch his quickly retreating back as he left for work. only when he was gone did you finally go back into the apartment while shutting the door.

despite how you appeared almost nonchalant at the thought of his upcoming conference, a part of you was quite curious. why did it seem so important to jinwoo that you watch the conference live? surely, it was going to be the same as all the other handful of guild promotions you had seen in the past?

but you digress; sung jinwoo was not only a powerful hunter, but he had one of the most powerful guilds that existed in the entire world. and if he wanted your support, who were you to deny him of it?

especially since you had been together with him for close to 4 years now.

so you spent the day passing time, doing chores with beru's help while making plans for what you would make for dinner tonight. when there was nothing else to do, you would spend the rest of the time on the couch with beru, eating snacks while watching whatever drama was on.

as you trail your eyes toward the clock, you saw the time read 06:50pm and immediately changed the channel to the news. oddly enough, once you changed the channel, beru immediately disappeared back into the depths of your shadow.

"what? beru, you don't wish to watch your king speak?"

yet the former ant king does not answer you, simply staring at you from your shadow, purple eyes seeming to shine with excitement. as you were left pondering beru's strange behavior, the sight of ahjin guild's insignia from your periphery captures your attention. feeling your heart racing with anticipation, you grab your remote and turn up the volume.

hundreds of cameras flash while jinwoo stands at the podium, appearing confident as an almost cocky grin paints his features. seeing him standing so tall makes your heart melt in response for him.

"jinwoo, you've come such a long way... i'm so proud of you."

when he first started out as a hunter, he was meek and uncertain, lacking so much confidence while being labeled as the weakest. you remember those days you helped him heal while comforting him through his tears... remaining together with him not out of pity-

but because you genuinely loved him and wished to make him happy.

and now, you couldn't be happier at the jinwoo that stood before you right now, at this very moment.

"thank you everyone for coming to this important press conference... and allowing me the chance to speak my mind." jinwoo begins the conference, and you let out a dreamy sigh upon hearing his deep voice reverberating across the microphone.

murmurs were heard from the paparazzi, yet jinwoo remains unfazed, eyes flashing purple momentarily before returning back to its calm, grey hue.

"i want to take this chance to dissipate all the rumors surrounding my love life; specifically, the rumors pertaining to my supposed relationship with hunter cha hae-in."

your eyes go wide, feeling your heart beat faster in response as you leaned even closer to the t.v., practically on the edge of your seat as jinwoo kept talking. hunter cha hae-in being his partner in some high level raids had always been a sore subject for you, and despite how you always believed him when he said that she was nothing more than a mere friend and colleague to him, the fact that many news outlets labeled them as the power couple of the century did little to soothe you of your jealousy and heartache.

was this really happening?

was he finally announcing his relationship with you?

as if realizing your gaze settled on the screen, jinwoo flashes a kind smile to the cameras, taking a moment of silence that lasts for a few seconds before he begins to speak again,

"yes, i am not with hunter cha, rather... a woman who has been with me since the beginning. ever since i was a mere e-rank hunter..." he trails off while saying your name, and hearing him say those syllables like it was a reverent prayer made you smile in response, feeling happy tears falling from your eyes in heavy droplets.

he keeps his eyes on the cameras while leaning down to speak within the microphones. he says your name again along with the following words:

"i just wanted to tell you that i am proud to be yours, and that there is no one else i love in the entire world more than you."

after completing his statement, a mischievous smirk was seen settled against his features before he admits.

"also... sorry sarang, but this is actually a recording. you might want to answer the door right about now for your surprise."

the press conference then ends abruptly, flashing ahjin's guild insignia one final time before static was seen. your heart was pounding, forgetting all about the t.v. screen as you made a mad dash toward your front door, opening it-

only to see jinwoo directly in front of you, down on one knee for you as he reveals a gorgeous ring made from your favorite gemstone while decorated with tiny diamonds surrounding it. you gasp in response, feeling your tears fall even harder in response.

jinwoo doesn't meet your gaze just yet, still remaining with his head bowed while he spoke. "sarang, you and i both know that you are the absolute love of my life. you, who has been with me since i was barely a man- who had been with me when i was labeled the weakest in the world."

"you are the one that has seen me at my worst, so it's clear that you are the only one who deserves me when i am at my best."

jinwoo finally faces you then, with unshed tears shimmering within his glowing, purple eyes. "so please, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you were filled with emotions now, unable to even speak as you could only manage to give him a nod with the tears still streaming down your face.

"y-yes, oh jinwoo, yes! i-i'll marry you!" you manage to tell him while letting out deep breathes of air, trying to calm down, but struggling miserably.

he smiles brightly at you, standing back to his full height as he takes the engagement ring outside of its box, sliding it against your left ring finger while letting out a shaky sigh.

"it's a perfect fit..." you notice the way jinwoo's breath hitches, and you knew that he was doing all he could to not cry, making your heart melt in response.

letting out a sigh of his name, you stand on the tip of your toes, reaching his lips in a sweet kiss. you bask in the way jinwoo's lips perfectly slot against yours, allowing your now fiancé to wrap his arms around you in a tight manner, feeling grateful to be able to share the rest of your days with him.

a.n. - lmao alternate title to this story would be 'when he doesn't screw up his proposal and leaves the ring in his other coat / suit.' 😂

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[maybe-im-dark]

Alright, let’s talk about Logan’s PTSD. People throw around the term “bad memories” or “scary flashbacks,” but for him, PTSD is much more than that. His trauma isn’t just something he can brush off or ignore—it’s embedded in him, in every single fiber of his being, and the triggers are painfully specific.

Imagine needles. For most people, needles are a brief discomfort. But for Logan, they’re a brutal reminder of the agonizing, torturous hours he spent during the adamantium bonding process. Think about it: needles didn’t just prick his skin; they drilled into his bones, pumping molten metal to fuse with his skeleton. It’s like he’s reliving those moments every time he sees a needle. It’s not just a shot—it’s the memory of lying on a table, helpless and immobilized, as they drilled deeper and deeper until he became Weapon X. When doctors suggest anything that involves needles—like an IV or drawing blood—he has to fight the urge to lash out because it throws him right back to that table.

And the thing is, it’s not just needles. Medical procedures, in general, set off alarm bells for him. Even something as routine as an EEG, where they place electrodes on his head, is a complete no-go. Why? Because it looks too much like the mind control helmet Stryker and the scientists used on him, the one that allowed them to twist his thoughts and make him an unfeeling weapon. It doesn’t matter that it’s safe; Logan’s mind is hardwired to associate it with the moments when he lost control of his own mind and body, forced to do unspeakable things.

Then there’s the ever-present sense of vigilance. Logan isn’t just “hyper-aware” like most superheroes; he’s hyper-aware to the point of exhaustion. He’s constantly on alert, watching his back, assessing threats in every room he walks into. His senses are razor-sharp, which makes it impossible to ignore any sight, sound, or smell that might bring a painful memory flooding back. Smells, in particular, can set him off. The sterile smell of hospitals, or the faint chemical scent in labs, can bring him back to moments he’d rather forget. And he can’t just shut his senses down, so every little trigger feels amplified, making it a battle just to stay grounded.

And let’s not forget nightmares. Logan’s sleep is a minefield of traumatic memories. We see him wake up in sweats, sometimes even with his claws unsheathed. He’ll wake up clawing, gasping, fighting off shadows of the past that linger long after he’s woken. For him, sleep isn’t rest—it’s another battlefield, where memories become physical sensations he can’t escape. And he’ll never fully let his guard down, even around the people he loves, because he knows that one misstep could mean hurting them, especially when his subconscious doesn’t recognize friend from foe.

Logan’s need to protect his food is something that catches people off guard. But when you’ve spent years in wars, surviving on scraps, and when you’ve gone hungry as a kid running through the wilderness, that survival instinct sticks. Logan has real food insecurity—even if logically, he knows he’s safe now.

Logan will often stash food in his room, even with Wade assuring him there’s plenty in the kitchen. He needs to see that food, to know it’s there just in case. And god help anyone who takes food off his plate; he’ll instinctively react, growling or baring his teeth. It’s not about being rude or greedy; it’s a primal reaction, a reminder of times when he didn’t know when his next meal would come.

So, no, Logan’s PTSD isn’t just “bad memories.” It’s physical, it’s mental, and it affects every part of his life—from how he interacts with doctors and hospitals to how he navigates relationships and even his own body. For Logan, trauma isn’t just something he “deals with” or “works through”—it’s something he lives with, in every moment.

[websterss]

COMING BACK (1) — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

WORD COUNT: 1,655

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 2: HAPPY ENDING / SAD ENDING

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

[sh1gglypuff]

City of Stars

…are you shining just for me?

ahead: female or suggested female reader, mild suggestive content, pain

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Kenma!” you call out into the vast house. Your voice reverberated off of the walls and bounced back to you, the white walls illuminated by the evening glow. You dropped your bag along with your keys by the door, kicking your shoes off and making your way through your home. “Kenma?” you called again.

It was almost 2am. Your newest film had premiered that evening, you walking the red carpet in a gown with a price so high you refused to think about it. You had that privilege, not needing to think about the price tags on things such as that. The after party raged on through the night, and you were coming home tired and a little tipsy after your evening out.

You were high off of nothing but your own success and glamour. The movie was going to be a hit, you knew it and everyone else knew it too. Your agent thinks you’re a shoo-in for an Oscar because of your performance and you hate to admit this out loud but, you agree.

“I’ve been calling your name, did you not hear me?” you say, entering the master bedroom loudly.

“I heard you.”

“I had the best evening Kenma truly. Oh I really think this is going to be it for me. This movie is what’s going to sell…” you continue to ramble on as you sit on your side of the bed opposite of him and take off your stacks of jewelry. He offers small hums and nods as you do.

“I had a poptart for dinner,” he says as your chatter dies down. You frown at him.

“Kenma our kitchen is full of food is it not?”

“It’s not,” he says monotone.

“Well…you could have ordered food. Or god forbid…gone out!” you fake a gasp as you say this. He doesn’t like when you mock him like this.

“I don’t like going out. Especially not recently since everyone knows I’m your boyfriend now,” he turns on his side to face the wall.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I hate attention. When I go out people ask me a million questions. It makes me feel nauseous.” After he finishes saying this you get up and walk towards the bathroom. You look back at him, him facing you with his eyes closed.

“Can you unzip my dress?” you ask. You don’t think he’s heard you at first until he nods simply, opening his eyes and sitting up. He gestures for you to come over and you walk closer to him, turning around and letting him place his slender fingers on the zipper of your dress. He unzips it slowly, stopping midway. He remembers unzipping a dress of yours for you years ago, his hands shaking with anticipation. That was when you were nothing but a struggling actress in Los Angeles, desperately looking for any sort of work. That was when he felt wanted. That was before everything changed.

Kenma wishes he could be happy. He feels like that would be the only normal reaction. He is happy you’re living your dream, the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve these past years in this city. He’s happy for you. He loves you. He unzips the rest of your dress.

With the back of your dress unzipped you turn to him, placing your hands on his chest. You kiss his lips, softly at first then beginning to make your kisses fall with more desperation. At first Kenma wraps his hands in your hair as the two of you fall onto the bed. Your hands wander down his torso, a hand slipping under his shirt and-

“Stop! Stop…” Kenma suddenly says, pulling away. You quickly remove your hands from his body. “I don’t…want to.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Your face is flushed with worry. Kenma shakes his head.

“I’m sorry I’m…just really tired right now.” You don’t question him as he says this, you just nod. You get up from the bed and head back towards the bathroom where you finish getting ready to go to sleep.

As the shower runs and the sound of your hums and harmonies sound lightly from the bathroom, Kenma cries.

Kenma can’t remember the last time he’s cried over anything, genuine sad tears. He tried not to cry too hard, trying his hardest to make sure his tears wouldn’t be obvious as you came out of the bathroom. He but his sleeved hands into his eyes, pressing lightly. He wanted to stop crying but couldn’t. He took a deep breath.

He didn’t want this life. He didn’t want to live in a big house in the hills of Hollywood and only see his girlfriend every couple of weeks. As you were on set for this last movie he got a small taste of the next however many years of his life. You, shooting movies in various locations, flying around doing press tours, walking down red carpets. He on the other hand couldn’t do a single thing without the label of your boyfriend. He couldn’t stream a game without the mention of you, couldn’t leave the house without being asked of the movie. He loves you with everything he has, but it’s just so hard.

Kenma wants to be his own person.

Kenma also wants to be in love.

You come out of the bathroom, hair tied up and makeup off. He loved you in this form. You looked genuine. It was his favorite look you had. He loved this more than your stunning red carpet looks, the looks you had on the covers of recent magazines. He loved the you only he could see. He says your name softly as you sit on the side of the bed opposite him.

“Yes?” you responded.

“I…I don’t know if this is going to work.”

The silence is deafening in Kenma’s ears. He doesn’t know how long you were quiet, he just knows it was too long. “What?” you finally say.

“Nothing, sorry.” He tries to take back what he’s already said. He realizes he can’t.

“No, what? Tell me what you mean Kenma.” You’re suddenly more alert, looking towards him with attentive and concerned eyes. Kenma tries his best to not start crying.

“Everything is different now,” he says simply. “I never see you anymore. People know you. People know me. People know me as an extension of you.”

You stare, slightly confused as to what he’s trying to get at. “Do you want to see me or not?”

Kenma looks towards you. “I do want to see you. I really and truly do-“

“Then what do you mean? Is me being known now a problem?” Your brows are furrowed.

Kenma takes a long moment to breathe, closing his eyes. He does this when he’s anxious. You could see him squeezing one of his hands. “I just- this was not the life I imagined myself having. I feel like I’ve been doing nothing. Nothing for myself at least. You…I don’t know. You’re being so swept away by a life of…fame. That’s a life that I can’t live and I feel like we’ve been on different planets. I don’t feel like part of your life at all. I feel like…the guy you don’t even think of during the day that you just happen to kiss and fuck in the evening.”

Silence fills the room again as you take in everything Kenma is saying. You have no idea what to possibly say. Do you want to fight for this? You’ve loved Kenma for years. He was right though. You did feel like you lived on a different planet. “That. That’s a large accusation”

“I’m not accusing you of anything I’m just saying how I feel.”

“I do think of you.”

“And I believe that you do. I just don’t…feel it?” Kenma wanted to say more but didn’t know how to word what he was feeling. You grip your arm tightly, thinking. You look towards the window, desperately wishing you were just asleep in his arms.

“Can we finish this tomorrow Kenma?”

“You expect me to just fall asleep? I haven’t sleep more than 3 hours in the past 4 days. I can’t stop thinking about this. I can’t stop thinking about us. I love you, so much. I really hope you know how much…I just don’t think I can keep living like this. I can’t stop being a nobody.”

“It’s your fault you’re a nobody Kenma!” you say throwing your hands in the air. His last comment set you off, everything bubbling up had suddenly came out. “You don’t have to lay around all fucking day! You can get a job! You can do things! You probably have more opportunities to do things because of me!”

“Fuck you,” is all he says. His eyes are filling with tears.

“Fuck me? Kenma I’m just stating the truth. You’re doing nothing with your life and I am. You can’t blame me for that.”

“I’m going to Kuroo’s,” Kenma states, getting out of bed. You don’t respond to that, just watch as he slides on a pair of shoes and walks out of the bedroom.

“Kenma…” you start. He doesn’t listen. He keeps walking, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. You could run after him. You could have done everything to make him stay. You don’t.

6 Years Later

You were the biggest name in Hollywood. You had gotten what you had always dreamed of. You had starred in movies that topped charts, had multiple oscars under your belt, and the most perfect fiancé you could ask for.

Kenma was sitting at a cafe, computer open and glasses resting on his face. Kenma had his own business. A successful one. He had made a name for himself, one without you. He sipped lightly on his coffee as the door rings open. He doesn’t look up, focused on his work.

He hears murmurs from around the cafe, confused he peers to what people are staring at. It’s you.

“Thank you,” you say with your famous smile. You take the coffee from the shaking barista and turn. You see Kenma. He sees you. He puts a hand out to wave. You nod your head.

He watches as you walk out of the cafe. The chatter of the room reaches its peak then dies down to what is was before.

That interaction lasted maybe a minute, but it kept Kenma up for days.

He thought of the days he had spent loving you. The evenings he had spent helping you with auditions. He knew you before the world knew you. What if he had never said anything that night. What if he has just learned to adapt? Would he have married you? Would the two of you have a life unlike anything he could ever dream of?

You were getting married. You were getting married to your most recent leading make costar. Kenma has questions he knows he’ll never get the answers to. You live on different planets. Maybe you always had. Your lives are no longer intertwined. Maybe Kenma is okay with that. Maybe he will learn to be.

He smiles, staring into his now empty cup of coffee.

[fallingfor-fics]

Business Ethics- Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem! IT employee

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: none, drinking, angst, implied smut. flirting

Summary: Melissa finds out you're getting fired and doesnt know how to tell you but eventually word gets out.

You had worked at Abbott for about 3 years now in the IT department and loved your job with a passion. You had skills with computers and didn't mind using those to make some good money, not to mention you got to work with good people. They never gave a shitty attitude or were sexist pigs like other places you worked. Not to mention thanks to this job you met your girlfriend Melissa. Her being a teacher here worked out well, but you haven't got around to telling anyone yet because you don't want to worry about gossip, and of course the HR issues. You were currently on your way to the break room because someone had called about the wifi not working in there. It usually is just an issue on their end, but you don't mind since it's an easy fix and you get to stop and chat with some of the other staff for a bit. You are an angel in about half of the staff's eyes since you seem to magically fix all their tech issues with projectors and what not. The other half never paid mind to you but were always friendly. 

“Hey! Got a call about Wifi?” you say walking in and Barb sticks up her hand with a finger pointed to signal you over. 

“Yeah Facebook isn't loading and it's really ruining my relaxing lunch.” she scoffed and you smiled walking over.

“May I?” you ask, gesturing to her phone and she hands it to you. You peek above her phone to spot the empty seat beside her. She notices and stares at you intensely. 

“She’s not here yet, I think she ran off campus for food today.” Barb answers and you look at her with a faux confused face.

“Um..” you pause and clear your throat before sitting up straight and handing her phone back, “You were on the guest Wifi.” you said before turning to leave. 

You are met with Melissa's bright eyes and large smirk as she looks you up and down. “Hey Wall-E what brings you to these parts?” Melissa mocks at you as she moves past to sit down.

You roll your eyes at the name she chose today, usually she goes for Specs, Droid, or Short Circuit. You turn to face her and she smiles when your eyes meet, you can tell she enjoys teasing you like this in front of everyone and you hold back your own smile. Before you can answer you get a call from another teacher to help with their computer and so you bite your tongue and walk away. Once you are gone Barb lets out a large breath. 

“Oh my god I thought I was gonna go crazy.” Barb gasps

“What? How come?” Melissa asks, confused. Barbra leans in close to whisper. 

“Ok Ava told me this earlier and you can not tell anyone, especially Y/n,” she started and Melissa nodded for her to continue “according to Ava since they have to make some departmental cuts, the superintendent said they are going to have to let Y/n go” She sits back up and looks around to make sure no one heard. 

Melissa leans up slowly with shock over her face. She feels her stomach drop and she begins to already grow guilty for having this knowledge. 

“That's crazy.” Melissa mutters with a clear upset. 

“I know and who knows what this means for the other staff and oh I feel so bad for the girl but ya know last one in first one out..” Barbra keeps rambling on but Melissa tunes her out as she thinks about you. She gets up without a word and rushes to Avas office. She knew the superintendent, Jamie, was still on campus and likely to be talking with Ava so she took this as her opportunity.

She doesn't bother knocking and just opens Ava’s door, standing in front of her desk with a tight lip and furrowed brow.

“What now Schemmenti? Did you really have to disturb my meeting?” Ava says annoyed.

“You're firing Y/n?” she says with attitude and Ava sighs, setting her magazine down.

“Um, Yes we are letting her go.” Jaime says calmly with a sympathetic smile, not allowing Ava to speak.

“But why? She has been here for three years and she has been helping us out so much she doesn't deserve this.” Melissa said with anger in her throat, she tried her best to stay calm and not yell, but she felt so much for you she couldn't not say anything.

“I don't want to Ms.Schemmenti but with where we are at it was either her or one of our Food Service Directors and that department is a complete mess so we couldn't afford to lose one of them.” Jaime says trying to reason with her by providing her excuses

“Bullshit.” Melissa scoffs

“Look I don't like this anymore than you do but at the end of the day it has nothing to do with you so just let it go Ms. Schemmenti. Understood?” Ava was now standing to level with Melissa and Melissa's arms were crossed as she shook her head and clenched her jaw. 

“And you can't tell her Melissa, it's not your place and if I find out that you even mentioned the possibility to her-” Ava began trying to sympathize before Jamie cuts her off

“We will have to ask you to resign.” Jaime finished and both Melissa and Ava’s  eyes went wide. 

“You can't fire me for telling her.” Melissa scoffed, Ava looked down. 

“We have a long list of new teachers that want to work here Ms. Schemmenti, so it wouldn't be an issue.” Jaime smirked and Melissa held back the words that were prying to pour from her mouth and just stormed out. 

--

Later that day you and Melissa were hanging out at her place and watching some random Judge show and after some comfortable silence, Melissa spoke softly and with a rather monotone voice. 

“If you had bad news about a coworker but you couldn't tell them or you may get fired, would you risk that or just ya know mind your own business?” She muttered and you scrunched your brows.

“Hmm, that's a good question. Normally I'd mind my own business, but..” You paused looking up at her from your place on her shoulder, “I think it also depends on how close you are with them you know?” you finish and then look back at the TV. 

“Yeah, good point.” she sighs as she chews on her cheek with furrowed brows.

--

You haven't seen Melissa all week and she was being super dry in text and it was beginning to worry you, she did this every now and then and it usually meant she was dealing with some personal or family stuff, but it hasn't happened in a while since she was getting really good at communicating these things to you. You finally decided to corner her during the lunch hour and see what was going on. 

You spotted her walking down the hall as you left another classroom and you walked faster to catch up. 

“Melissa, hey can I uh, talk to you?” you asked softly and she stopped to look at you. She fidgeted and looked at her watch as if she was in a hurry, but eventually nodded.

“Yeah sure.”

You looked around before grabbing her hand and leading her to one of the far stairwells you often met up in since it hardly got used. You waited for the door to shut before sitting on one of the steps.

“Mel, what's been going on? I haven't seen you all week.” you asked softly and she sighed her hands coming to cover her face in frustration before they ran through her hair and she started pacing slowly. 

“I know and I'm sorry.” she muttered, not looking at you. 

“Is it something between you and your family, or work, or.. Us?” you hesitated with the last topic and she shook her head. You stood up and grabbed her hips to get her to stop pacing and face you. You pushed her to lean against the wall behind her and she sighed. 

“I have to tell you something but if anyone finds out i'll get fired.” she said plainly.

You laughed, thinking she was joking. “Mel, come on, don't be dramatic.” 

“I wish I was Y/n but I'm serious, and it's been tearing me up all week long and I didnt think I could hold it in if I was around you.” she smiled and your own smile faded as you looked between her eyes. 

“Just tell me it's fine, I won't say anything!” you said sincerely and she nodded.

“Ok, um, I was told that due to lack of resources and financial issues, they are going to…fire some people.” she said with a worried tone and sympathetic but slightly awkward smile. Melissa did plan on telling you but she saw your worried gaze and panicked, skipping around the truth. 

“What? You’re kidding me! How do you know this? Do we know who yet?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“Um Barb told me and I got it confirmed by Ava and Jamie, but we don't know who or how many.” she stated plainly.

“Oh my gosh, I mean i'm sure we will be fine, it’ll be the last one in the first one out.” you said looking down as you shook your head. 

Melissa looked at you and felt her chest tighten, she felt panic wash over her again and pushed herself off the wall.

“Well I got to go back to class hon.” She chirped, walking over to stand in front of you. 

“Yeah I should head back too. Ill see you later tonight?” you asked and she moved her hands to your hips. 

“Umm it's maybe on tonight, I have papers to grade and stuff. Ill see you tomorrow night though, for drinks with the others yeah?” she said with a cheery tone as she lifted your chin to look at her. 

“Yeah.” 

“Great, and I’ll pick you up so you don't have to drive.” she smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You kissed her softly and slowly, you hands moving to slide into the back pockets of her jeans, her hands roamed down to your hips again to grasp them firmly and you pushed into the kiss harder. Finally you pulled away to get air and your cheeks flushed a deep red. 

“Fuck Schemmenti. Bring that energy tomorrow night.” You whispered out of breath, your eyes looking into her with heavy lids. She laughed and pulled away, kissing your cheek and leaving.

--

The group that was going to the bar consisted of Barbara, Melissa, Ava, Jacob, and Janine, and of course yourself. Gregory opted out so he could come pick the others up when we were all ready to leave. You were finishing your makeup as you waited for Melissa to get here, excitement to go out with everyone filled your chest, the only downside was having to act just friendly with Melissa after having some drinks. You were fine if you took it slow and paced yourself, but one too many cocktails and Melissa turns into a lone flame, dancing in the air before your eyes, illuminating your whole face and making it devilishly hot. She draws you in and you can't feel satisfaction or peace until you have her around you. Melissa loves this about you obviously, and nine times out of ten she gives you what you want. 

So tonight you were sticking to beer. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

You heard a car door and quickly headed downstairs, grabbing your purse and locking the door behind you. You were wearing casual yet flattering clothes, ones that accentuated your features and wouldn't make you overheat. 

“Hey baby.” Melissa smiled as she got out of the car and opened your door. 

“Hi love.” you said, giving her a peck before getting into the passenger seat. She shut the door and walked around to get back in. You changed the station as she did so and when she got back in she looked at you, your face gazing out the window. 

“Night just started and you’re already being a brat.” her tone was low and sarcastic and you couldn't help the grin that spread on your face.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” you said slyly and she scoffed, pulling out of the driveway and heading to the bar. It wasn't far from her house thankfully, and you were able to get decent parking. The first hour went by fast, and Ava had made everyone do a shot when they got there, so you made sure to be careful. You all just talked and gossiped for most of the night, watching drunk people do karaoke at the front of the bar. You looked over and saw a pool table and got excited, you nudged Melissa and she looked over. 

“Maybe we can sneak away for a round or two?” you said looking at her, she turned to look at you, her face dangerously close to yours. 

“Damn already? I thought you were pacing yourself.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Of pool.” you remarked and she tilted her head with a teasing glance.

“Mhm. Lead the way.” she said and you got up, going to the bar to get you and Melissa another beer, and then heading to the table, Melissa took the cold bottle from your hand, her fingers brushing yours and you smiled at her. 

“Watch it.” She just shrugged in response and you grabbed a stick, handing her one after she finished setting it up. You moved aside and let her break and she looked at you with a spine chilling smirk. You watched as she bent over, your eyes tracing over her back and around the curve of her ass, her fingers delicately placed around the stick as she moved it back and forth. You took a sip to cool you down, and looked away. You looked over at the group and they were still in a deep gossip session. You looked back and Melissa was lining up for another shot and you laughed. 

“How many did you get in on the break?” you questioned and she looked up at you after hitting another and making it in.

“Two.” she moved to stand in front of you, lining up her next shot, she bent down slowly and you looked in  disbelief, looking around to see if anyone noticed, she pressed her ass into your center and right as she went to hit the ball you gripped her hips, your thumbs sliding up her shirt slightly so they could press into her skin with force, she tensed up and let out a small gasp and it caused her to miss the shot. She stood up quickly and looked at you. 

“So that's how we are going to play huh?” you smiled and walked to take a shot. You got two in before you were getting ready for your next and Melissa started to fidget with her heel, she stood across from you, her hand on the side of the table. She leaned down slightly, fixing the non existent issue and causing her cleavage to be directly in your eyeline. You looked into her eyes that were dark and secretive. You couldn't help your eyes dipping back down to her perfect breasts and you rolled your eyes, taking the shot and standing back up before the ball even made it halfway to the pocket. Of course to no one's surprise, you missed, and you went to sip your drink while Melissa took her next turn.

Eventually it was down to Melissa and you both one away from the 8 ball, you had both continued playing dirty and Melissa just happened to be better at doing that, and with assets like hers it's easier to do. Melissa paused to drink her beer as she prepared for her turn. You quickly went to the bartender and ordered two shots, heading back over to Melissa. She looked at you and raised a brow. 

“Thanks hon but I probably shouldn't drink anymore.” she said kindly and you downed one of the shots as you looked at her. Your eyes were determined and full of admiration and a hunger to win. 

“Wasn’t for you.” you said with a smile as you did the other one. She looked at you confused and you walked over to her. 

“Now, if you win, you will get to deal with future drunk me however you’d like.” you said smiling. Her jaw slacked and she looked over your face.

“And if you win?” she asked with a curious smile.

“I'm going to go home alone, and get myself off. And if you talk me through it you may get a few selfies.” you muttered softly and she felt her muscles tense up at the thought. As hot as that would be, she loves when you are drunk and needy, she doesn't want to miss out on this. 

“And we are playing clean from here on.” you added and she agreed, walking to line up her shot. You watched as you sipped your drink, the drinks finally catching up to you and your legs suddenly felt weak. You stayed standing and focused your vision on Melissa, your blood rising in temperature as your eyes looked over her. 

“That look is not playing clean.” she muttered, not looking away from the ball. You didn't say anything and she took her shot. The force of her strong arm caused a loud pop to be heard and it made your core twitch and your legs push together. She made the shot and you scoffed. Her hazey eyes met yours with a cocky smirk and you looked away, when you looked over Barbara was heading towards you and you straightened up. Melissa noticed and she smiled. 

“Hey Barb, what's up?” Melissa asked and she sat down at the high table next to us.

“Jacob and Ava are getting into it about some stupid show.” she sighed and you laughed 

“Wow you left Janine alone over there?” you looked over and she was sinking into the booth sitting between the other two.

“Mm. How's your game?” she asked and Melissa's smiled widened. 

“I'm winning of course.” she didn't hesitate to state and you rolled your eyes.

“Just go on already, Schemmenti.” She looked at you with a daring eye and you laughed. 

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom, Barb, take my shot for me.” she said, handing her stick to the woman before disappearing. You sat in shock and Barb looked at you. 

“I won't lie, Y/n, I had a lot of beverages tonight.” she smiled walking over to the table, you smiled in response hoping this would give you an advantage.

“That's okay, me too.” you laughed, the drinks were really hitting you now and time seemed to slow down as you waited. You could hear the people talking loudly over the music, and the colorful lights made everything glow.

“Yeah I don't blame you, I would in your situation. It really is just awful.” she said looking for the best place to shoot from. You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked over at her. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, your words slightly slurred.

“Well you know with the whole letting you go, situation.” she looked up at you and the loud noises along with drinks in your system caused you to have a harder time piecing it together. She noticed and pushed her own brows together.

“Wait, Melissa didn't tell you? Woah I was sure she would have.” she said shocked and you shook your head.

“Melissa?” you said at the mention of her name and Barbara nodded. 

“Yeah Ava said they had to let you go.” she said as she took the shot. You watched as she missed and you stepped back. “Damn I missed.” 

“When did you tell her?” you asked and she paused to think.

“Hmm like two weeks ago.” she said as she set the stick down. Behind her you saw Melissa walking over, she came into focus and you saw her face turn down, surely a reaction to your own stoic and melancholy expression. Your brows tight together and your eyes full of confusion. She walked closer and you sighed. 

“Two weeks you knew and you didn't tell me.” you muttered and Melissa immediately realized what happened. Barbara looked at you both, confused and unsure if her suspicions were correct. She muttered and apology to Melissa and walked back to the group. You didn't say anything else and just grabbed your purse and walked away, you paused at the others to let them know you were leaving cause you didn't feel well, and headed out the door. Melissa grabbed her own belongings and hurried to close out the tab, she told the others she was driving you home, and hurried out after you. You had already started your journey down the street, your feet hurt and your legs were slightly numb from the cold night air nipping at them. Your vision was slightly delayed, but overall you were conscious enough to make it home at a decent time. You finally realized why you were walking away and you sighed. You realized Melissa had not only not told you but had the chance and lied instead. You loved your job so hearing this information stung. Learning your girlfriend that you met here, knew before you though, that hurt worse. 

“Y/n, baby please let me drive you.” she shouted after you and you shook your head. 

“I need to clear my thoughts. I'll be fine.” you said and you heard her heels stop clicking. You figured she gave up with your stubborn attitude and went back. No more than a minute later, she was pulled up driving next to you as you walked. 

“Sweetie, I'm sorry, please get in the car and then we can talk about it.” she said, genuine sorrow and worry laced in her tone which led you to look up at her.

“I dont want to fucking talk Melissa.” you said with your voice raised, walking ahead once more. 

“Get in the car.” she demanded with a flat tone that intimidated you to your bones. You ignored her and she stopped the car, you stopped walking and looked over and she raised an eyebrow at you. “Just let me get you home safe and ill give you all the space you want.” she said softly and the amount of care that seeped out of her words made your heart flutter and you walked over and got in the car. After a few moments of silence you sighed. 

“Did you talk to anyone else?” you asked and she nodded.

“After I found out I went to Ava’s office and she was with Jamie and they told me there was nothing they could do. Trust me when I say I tried baby. Then they said I would get replaced if I told you. You nodded in shock and chewed on your lip before starting back up.

“God I mean did you tell them to cut someone else? To fire fucking Gary or something?” you asked and she nodded. 

“Yes baby I tried but they said they had no other choice.” her brows pushed together as she rubbed your thigh in comfort. 

“Fuck.” you muttered looking down and running a hand through your hair. “What the hell am I going to do, I mean finding a new job isn't hard but leaving my friends and you. Not to mention I'll have to go work at another bro-ey tech department.” you rolled your eyes and she sighed.

“I know hon, I'm sorry. I will help you find a new position and I'm sure we have time to find a good fit.” she tried her best to comfort you but you were so angry that Ava allowed this to happen and you knew you would either snap or start crying so you just turned and looked out the window.

“And you… why didn't you just tell me?” you muttered with judgment and her mouth turned down in guilt. 

“I don't know. I just panicked.” she said softly and you nodded, accepting her reasoning and deciding to just forget about it for tonight. You got to your house and insisted she didn't need to walk you to the door, so you grabbed your things and looked at her with an awkward smile. 

“I guess ill maybe, see you at work on Monday.” you joked and she just stared at you with sympathy, you kissed her cheek and she kissed yours before you got out and headed inside. 

After you got inside you immediately showered and got ready for bed, you finally checked your phone as you turned on your TV and sat on your plush comforter. There were messages from Melissa, one letting you know she made it home, and one apologizing again. As you read them she texted again asking if you were mad and you pondered for a moment. You sat up and flipped to your camera, sitting against the pillows, you held your arm out, your thighs up to your mouth in frame, wearing a sheer burgundy panty set. You looked at it before sending it along with ‘we are okay’ and then you put your phone on silent, and went to sleep. Leaving Melissa with nothing but the photo of you.

--

this was a quick little one I hope yall like these angsty fics sorry about no smut

please send int requests yall!! and feel free to ask for other characters and ill lyk if I write for em.

[beybaldes]

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count: 9.8k

summary: jamie tartt once told you Roy needed someone to show him it was okay to be soft; Roy has found that person in you

content warning: spoilers for the plot of 'the couple next door' by Shari Lapena, tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent bloodline and the Richmond boys, neither reader nor Roy has parents because I said so, allusions to smut but basically non written.

masterlist

a/n: this is technically a part 2 to my fic ‘it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know’ but can 100% be read as a standalone fic!! Thank you for all the love on the first part I acc can’t believe the amount of love and support it received 🥲🥲

"Hey, hot stuff." Your hands came to rest against Roy's shoulders, squeezing, then moving slowly across his collar bones and down his chest, coming to rest connected just above his heart. A featherlight kiss was pressed to the shell of his ear, and then another behind his ear, followed by a trail of quick kisses down his neck until your face was buried in the crook of it. "How's your book?"

"Fucking great." Roy answered back, voice low and mellow, maintaining the peaceful atmosphere in your living room.

Ever since you'd moved in together a year and a half ago, your entire house had become a sanctuary for the two of you. Roy's new position as manager made it so that even though you worked together, you saw much less of each other during the workday - mainly because it wasn't at his leisure to go in and out of your office all day any more. Even if you did spend every minute of every day around each other, you knew you could never get sick of Roy; you'd become quite the experts at communicating how you were feeling and what you were thinking, especially since every time he tried to keep you out, you would figure it out anyway.

"I mean, I've had my theories throughout about who did it, but I'd never have guessed this." Roy missed your touch as soon as you let go of him, reaching out so that he could hold your hand in his tightly while you walked around the couch to take a seat by his side. "I thought surely, what, with the husband having the affair he did it - and I was half right, the husband staged the kidnapping."

"I knew something was up with him!" You gasped, wrapping your arms around Roy's waist as you curled into his side, the hand that had just been holding yours pulling his blanket to cover your lap then moving to rest across your shoulders. "How was the husband involved? He didn't hurt the baby did he?" He used the palm of his hand to press your head against his chest, tucking your hair back behind your ear and then moving his hand to rest against your bicep, scratching his fingers gently into the exposed flesh there. "Oh my god, he didn't, like, get rid of it so he could be with the neighbour did he?"

"Slow down, slow down," Roy shushed, folding the corner of the page he was on, something so close to the end of the book you could count the pages if you tried. He pressed a chaste, warm kiss to the crown of your head, placing the book down beside him on the couch. "Let me explain, Angel." Roy's other hand, now free from holding the book, cradled your chin gently, tilting your head up so he could press a tender kiss to your lips. "So Anne's dad-"

Another gasp slipped past your lips. More then anything, you wanted to let Roy explain the plot of what he'd been reading, but his nightly updates had kept you on the edge of your seat. Despite not having read a single page, apart from the 2 chapters you read aloud to Roy earlier in the week when he was feeling a little under the weather, you were completely and utterly enthralled; desperate to know how it ended. Besides, this daily discussion was the highlight of your days. No matter how good or bad your day had been, if you'd gone out of your way to ignore each other or talked nonstop: Roy still talked and you still listened. "What did Anne's dad have to do with it?"

"You'll see." He chastised, pressing a kiss to the tip-of your nose before continuing with his explanation. "Marco assists in kidnapping the baby, why? Because his business is going out of money and he plans on faking a ransom note for asking for the exact amount of money he needs to pay up to save his business." Roy slid his hand under the blanket, pulling your legs up and into his lap as you brought your head up from against his chest. Threading your fingers through his hair, you looked at him confused. "Anne's parents are rich, remember? But they won't give him the money so he stages this kidnapping to force them to pay the ransom."

"No." You gasped, you hand clapping against your mouth. "Why wouldn't they give their son in law the money? They do know it directly affects their daughter and grand-daughter, right?"

"They won't give him the money because they don't like him, so get this, the guy who convinced Marco to stage the kidnapping was hired by Anne's dad." Roy laughed at the gasp you let out, you completely enthralled with the story and him completely enthralled with you. He always was. "Anne's dad staged the whole thing because he wanted Anne and Marco to split up. And just when you think everything's okay because they got the baby back; Anne murders the neighbour because she had been having an affair - with Anne’s dad.”

You were practically jumping in your seat.

Sometimes you wish you had the same amount of patience as Roy so you could actually sit down and read with him. Most of the time, however, you were more then happy to listen to him passionately talk you through what he was reading, were happy to watch that wonderful smile you loved so much curl onto his lips.

"But!"

"But-" you repeated after Roy, pressing a kiss to his cheek, urging him to hurry up with his ending; you were waiting to hear it.

"But, Anne doesn't remember killing the neighbour, so there is this whole unreliable light cast on the whole story; it might not have even happened!" Roy expected to find you staring at him in shock, some commentary on what you think happened on the tip of your tongue, but it never came.

Instead, he found you staring at him with complete adoration, like you'd watched him mould the galaxies in his hands, hang the stars in the sky and spin the world on his fingernails. To you, he did, he really did. You leant forward a little, using the hand that you'd tangled in Roy's hair to pull him closer to you so that you could press your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender, something that Roy, ever intense, had really come to enjoy through out your relationship; you brought out this entirely different side to him that he wasn't even sure existed until he met you.

"I love you." You murmured against his lips, going in for another quick peck before you pulled away, gracing him with the sight of a smile. "I love how passionate you get when talking about the stuff you love, and that smile - ugh that smile, Roy - you're killing me here."

Roy was certain he was doing the right thing. So certain, in fact, that he'd bought the ring the day you got together: Phoebe's accusation in your living room that you were getting married telling him everything he needed to know. The life Roy had dreamed of was right before him, all he had to do now was take it. "Marry me."

"What?" The hand that had began to caress his cheek as you kissed and the hand in his hair stilled; your entire body stilled in fact, and as quickly as he'd become confident enough to ask the question, he'd become nervous again.

"Fuck, what I meant was; will you marry me?" Roy shuffled underneath you, pulling out a ring box from somewhere behind him, though you weren't sure where considering you knew his pyjama bottoms didn't have pockets. "I'm not the kind of guy for a big speech thing, but I wish I was because you fucking deserve that kind of thing. You deserve a lot more then I can ever give you, actually, and yet you still love me day in and day fucking out. I'll admit, sometimes I don't get why you do."

"Roy..." You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as you moved both of your hands to cradle his face.

"But you do. And I'd truly, really, be the luckiest man in the world, if you would marry grumpy, old me." Tears had formed in Roy's own eyes, the pair of you totally overwhelmed by the intimate and tender moment. You'd never been more in love with Roy then right now. "Please fucking say yes, I'm an absolute mess without you"

"Yes, please." You whispered, hands still cradling Roy's face even though your eyes remained on the ring in front of you. It was as if he'd peeked inside your brain and made the perfect ring; it was simple yet elegant and entirely you, it was really perfect. This time, you answered louder. "Please, yes."

You pulled Roy's face to you, pressing a firm and hot kiss to his lips. You let your hands leave his face, sliding up and over his cheekbones until you reached his hair, twisting your fingers into it and pulling him even tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you did. "A million times yes, Roy, yes, yes, yes." Tears had begun to freely flow down your cheeks, though there was not an ounce of sadness to them. You were insurmountably happy - over the fucking moon. "I'd say yes in every fucking language in the world if I could. I love you Roy." You bit your lip back between your teeth, trying to contain your smile since your cheeks burned. "Mrs Kent." A giggle slipped past your lips. "That's me."

"Fuck yeah, that's you." Roy growled, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your lips. His grip in your hair allowed him to tilt your head back slightly, giving him the perfect angle to push his tongue past your lips with a tug of his hand on your hair. If he had already put the ring on your finger, he'd have picked you up and taken you to bed then and there with the moan you let out. "Now, Mrs Kent, you going to let me put this ring on your fucking finger or what?"

~*~

You were thankful Roy had proposed on a Friday night; not only because that meant you didn't have to worry about how late he kept you up or how quickly you needed to regain the ability to walk straight, but because it gave you the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday to figure out how to tell your friends. Phoebe and Molly were coming over for dinner later that night, but you had a slight feeling you weren't actually going to have to say anything to them - you had no doubt Roy had consulted Molly over it, and Phoebe, well, you just knew she'd pick up on it the second she saw you.

"C'mere." Roy groaned beside you, not giving you the chance to move yourself before he was wrapping one arm around your waist and the other under your thigh. He slid you across the bed with ease, years of training still paying off despite the fact he hadn't played on a pitch in nearly 4 years now. Placing the leg he'd grabbed over his own leg, he pulled you flush against him, chest pressed to chest. "Good morning, Angel, sleep good?"

Roy's voice had a deeper edge then usual to it in the morning. "Always do when I'm with you, Handsome." You purred, gently scratching your fingers against his chest. "Although I've got this awful kink in my neck, must’ve slept funny."

"I can think of a few other kinks you've got." Roy murmured against your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kissed along it and up your neck. When he nipped at the sensitive skin just under your ear, you pushed yourself away from him, not out of want, but out of necessity.

"We've got guests in a few hours, remember?"

"I can do a lot in an hour alone." Given how late the two of you had been up doing things, you'd slept in till lunch, but that didn't make the sound of sleepy and slow morning sex with Roy any less appealing. God, the thought of it alone had you wanting to cancel everything ever and stay here forever.

"Hmm, that you can do." Pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, you pressed a kiss to his lips, tangling your hands into Roy's hair and trying impossibly hard to get even closer to him. "Show me what you got, coach."

A growl rolled out of Roy's throat and he was quick to get started on his own assault of your lips, fully using the position he'd pulled you into to his advantage.

~*~

After everything the two of you spent your early afternoon doing, you only had 2 hours to make sure everything was ready for when Molly and Phoebe showed up, and since your cooking skills ended at turkey dinosaurs and pizza, you left most of the work down to Roy. He let you help prepare ingredients, standing behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand guiding your hand to cut things a specific way. But when the time came to actually cook the meal, he guided you out of the kitchen, encouraging you to go and get ready with a soft kiss; one to your cheek and another to your temple.

When you'd showered and gotten ready, you made it your turn to kick Roy out of the kitchen, promising not to touch anything unless he asked you to. You made sure to set the table all nice and proper for Phoebe and Molly's arrival, still slightly starstruck by the actual use of the dining table and not just eating dinner on your couch like you'd become so accustomed to before you and Roy moved in together. Sometimes though, especially when Phoebe stayed over, you'd all eat dinner together on the sofa, spy kids playing in the background, for old times sake. And before you knew it, you'd heard the knock at the door.

Swinging the door open, you knelt down immediately, sweeping Phoebe into your arms and hugging her tightly. With her head tucked in between your shoulder and neck, you stuck out your left hand at Molly, wriggling your ring finger enthusiastically. Phoebe squealed your name, wrapping her little arms tightly around your neck; even though you'd seen her two days ago when you picked her up from school, she still missed you as much as if she hadn't seen you for a million years.

As you went to stand back up, phoebe kept her grip on your neck, a silent plea for you to pick her up. Even at 9 years old, she still loved being paraded around in your arms, taking full advantage of your love for her and her love of being close to you. You pulled Molly into the house by the hand, kicking the door shut with your foot and leading them to the kitchen, where Roy was finishing up dinner.

"Hi, Uncle Roy!" Phoebe opted to stay in your arms instead of wiggling out of them to give Roy a 'hello' hug, knowing he was busy cooking and shouldn't be interrupted.

"Hey Phoebe, dinner will be ready in 2 minutes, okay? Why don't you go and grab your phoebe mug from your room before we all sit down?" When you and Roy moved in together, it was a unanimous decision that Phoebe needed her own room in your house; and when you were moving her things from Roy and your separate houses into your new house you got her a 'phoebe mug' as a housewarming gift. It was a bright pink ceramic mug, her name written once by you on the front and once by Roy on the back - it was the only thing she would drink out of when she was at your house.

The second phoebe had slipped out of the room, you turned to Molly with a squeal, the two of you grabbing tightly onto each other and jumping around the kitchen. Roy watched fondly as the two of you gushed over the ring Molly had already seen a thousand times. She took your hand in hers, running her finger over the ring with a featherlight touch, tears filling her waterline. Molly grabbed your hand and pulled it over her shoulder, hugging you again, though this time more tenderly, more teary-eyed.

"I'd say welcome to the family, but I think you've been a part of it since the day you met Phoebe." Tears began to fill your own eyes at the words she whispered against the shell of your ear. "You make him so happy, so, so happy, and that's all I could ever want for Roy. It's all I ever way for you." Molly pulled away from the hug, wiping her thumb under your eye as your tears threatened to spill over. "He loves you. We all do. I love you."

"I love you too, Molly." Just as quickly as she'd pushed you away, you pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tightly as though it would convey everything you were feeling. It did.

At the sound of feet running down your hallway, Molly jumped away from you, quickly wiping at her own eyes before turning to face her little girl. She gently took the mug from her hands and passed it to you, ushering her to the dining table while you and Roy plated up.

"What did she say to you?" Roy asked, knocking his hip against yours as he he started putting food into each plate.

You pulled Phoebe's favourite cordial off your shelf, pouring some in then moving past Roy to get to the sink to dilute it. "Nothing." He couldn't see the smile that formed on your face as you thought on what your future sister in law had said to you moments prior. "Just that she loves me, she loves you. That she's happy for us."

Roy wrapped an arm around you from behind as he came to join you at the sink, leaning past you to put his cooking tongs in. "I can't wait to see Phoebe's reaction." Roy murmured against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss there then spinning you around to face him. "She absolutely adores you. She's gonna be over the fucking moon."

"Not more over the moon then me." You pressed another kiss to his lips, making sure to keep the cordial far away from you and Roy incase it spilled.

Roy turned his back on you, picking up two of the bigger plates. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Oh really?" You asked, picking up the final big plate and Phoebe's smaller own. "I get to marry the love of my life and be officially related to some of the people I love the most. I think I win."

"We'll see." With one last kiss the two of you headed towards the dining table, all four of you tucking into dinner and telling each other about your weeks like clockwork; though you and Roy refrained from one pretty big event till after dinner.

When your food was all finished, you'd given Phoebe a bigger bowl of ice cream then usual, immediately prompting her to be suspicious. "Either I've been really good at school this week, or you guys have done something really bad."

"It's not like that Pheeb's, we're actually celebrating." Phoebe's head perked up at that as she mentally checked it wasn't anyone's birthday, or 'uncles day,' or Mother's Day, or 'future aunties day' (as she'd dubbed it) and she'd forgotten. When she ruled that she definitely hadn't forgotten anything, she turned to you in wait.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Me and your uncle Roy-"

"Holy shit." Smiles crept on all three of your faces as Phoebe pieced it together in her mind. "Are you getting married? Please tell me you're getting married?"

"Are getting married." As you brought your ring adorned hand up for her to see, Phoebe burst into tears, jumping off of her seat and running around to the other side of the table where you and Roy sat. She was quick to climb into Roy's lap, wrapping one arm around each of your knecks to pull you into a hug.

"This is the best day of my life." She whispered, her words coming out in a whine as she tried desperately hard to keep her tears in. "Do I get to be a flower girl?"

"Of course you get to be the flower girl, what kind of fucking question is that?" Roy scolded though a smile remained on his face, you wouldn't have anyone one else as your flower girl. Your niece was barely walking and besides, not that you'd ever admit it with them present, but you much preferred Phoebe to any blood relative you had.

Phoebe's face turned into a frown at Roy's words. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"After the S-bomb you dropped before? I think we're even."

~*~

When Monday rolled around, you were extremely nervous. It wasn't that you thought any of the people at Nelson road would react badly to your engagement, you knew non of them would, you were nervous in the way you are at 8 years old on Christmas Eve - in a giddy way when you can't wait for what you feel to be shared.

You'd come up with a plan in bed the night before - announce it to Beard first, then to the boys, and then you'd make your way up to Rebecca's office to announce it to her, Higgins and Keeley (who'd you thankfully knew would be at the dog track this morning for a meeting).

To execute step 1 with no interruptions, you made sure to arrive an hour earlier to work then you usually would - knowing that Beard liked to show up early and the boys would show up as close to practice as they could get away with. Just as you expected, Beard was alone in the office, only a couple of other people in the building at all, making for an easy entrance.

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of you two showing up earlier then you ever have in the 5 years I've known you." Beard asked, his feet perched high up on his desk and an open book dropped against his chest.

"I needed to ask you something, actually." Roy wrapped an arm around your waist, rubbing soothing circles into your skin, silently encouraging you to ask what you wanted to ask.

"Fire away, Katniss."

"I actually wanted to ask, um, well, if you'd walk me down the aisle?"

Beard stilled, then took a shaky breath, then stilled again. He slowly picked up the book from his chest, dog-eared the page and swung his feet down from his desk, standing and crossing the room so that he could stand in front of you. "You, you-" Another shaky breath. "You want me? Me? To walk you down the aisle?"

"Yeah. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father and-"

Beard pulled you into a hug, something he'd never done before, and tentatively wrapped his arms under yours, pinning you against him. He was warm and smelled like cinnamon, and though you'd never been a big fan of the scent, you found right now that you'd happily bask in it forever. "Yes, of course I will, it'd be an honour."

No further words were exchanged between the two of you until he pulled away, quickly wiping at his eyes before turning to Roy with a scowl. "I can fight, just so you know." He took a step closer to him, and you swore you'd never seen Roy so afraid as when Beard stuck a firm finger in his chest. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." Then he retreated to his chair, picking up his book and replacing it against his chest. "So when were you thinking? I always thing spring is the best time for a wedding."

The three of you discussed everything from what date you were thinking to ideal song choices while you waited for the changing room to fill up, wanting to make sure everyone had arrived before you shared the news. When Roy had done his 6th head count and found everyone had arrived, he nodded towards the door, asking if you were ready to go and tell everyone. You nodded, letting Roy lead the way and hanging in the doorway of the coaches office until Beard was at your side.

"You didn't have to threaten him, you know. He's never hurt me once, I don't think he's going to start now."

Beard folded his arms across his chest then nudged you gently in the side as the the two of you came to stand next to Roy, him shouting 'whistle,' silencing the changing room. "Hey, that's what dads are for."

"Before I start, someone grab Nate and Will from the boot room." Jamie, being closest to the boot room, dashed in and right back out, Will and Nate right behind him. "Right. Angel, the floor is yours."

You thanked Roy before turning back to the boys, all of them waiting anxiously as they waited to see what you had to say that was so important Roy had even called Will and Nate out. "I need to know if you're all available next June - we're talking the end of June, early July." Thankfully, your job at Richmond often required planning things far in advance, even if far in advance was a year away, so no one expected anything as you started to speak. "I know it's the off season but I need you all here, in Richmond. Especially Colin."

"Why especially me?" Colin asked, one hand nervously wringing the other.

"Because I absolutely refuse to get married if my man of honour won't be able to make it."

The whole changing room erupted into a chorus of gasps, quickly followed by cheers and players and kitmen alike swarming you and Roy with hugs and cries of congratulations - which, for once, he actually entertained.

Colin was the first to reach for you to pull you into a hug, his hands shaking as he did. "You really want me to be your man of honour? At your wedding?"

"Of course I do, Col." It didn't get any less tearful asking people to be apart of your wedding. "Your my best friend. I love you." No sooner then Colin had pulled you into another hug had you been torn out of it, by a very excited Jamie.

"I can't fucking believe it me. Well, I can actually, but I also can't." He pulled you in for an even tighter hug then Colin had, probably down to the fact he had more excitement then nerves coursing through his system. "Feels like yesterday me and Phoebe were sat on your couch convincing you Roy did love you, and now look at yous."

"Will Phoebe be at the wedding?" Isaac had spun you out of Jamie's hold and into his, keeping one arm around your shoulder as he spoke to you. "Cause I don't want to be the only person eating the turkey dinosaurs; there will be turkey dinosaurs right?"

"Of course there will be, Isaac." Will pulled you out from under Isaac's arm and into a sweet, although brief, hug. "Right? Otherwise I might have to RSVP no."

"Im sure it can be arranged, what, with all of Roy's footballer money." The two laughed at your words, though a certain footballer turned coach found them more amusing.

"All my footballer money, huh?"

"I hope the fact I'm only marrying you for your money doesn't make you want to call off the wedding." You teased, spinning around and wrapping your arms around Roy's neck.

He pressed a slow and sensual kiss to your lips, ignoring the teasing shouts and cheers from his team. "Hmm, you're lucky you're cute." Roy pressed another kiss to your lips, paying no mind to the curious stares of the team around him. Though when they began to linger for a minute too long, he pulled away from you with a sigh. "Right, 50 laps, all of you." When no one moved, he raised his voice. "Now!"

Roy intertwined his fingers with yours, waving a goodbye to Beard but promising to be back before the boys had finished their 50 laps.

Keeley had reacted just how you expected her to - with many screams and squeals and a tight hug that nearly knocked you off the ground. Rebecca and Higgins were much more reserved in their responses but each offered a hug and a congratulation's to the happy couple. Roy kept your fingers intertwined the whole time, squeezing your hand tight each time someone reached out for a hug but putting up with their love otherwise.

You couldn't wait to marry him.

~*~

Knowing that the off season would start around  the beginning of June, you'd decided early on the last week of June was the perfect time for the two of you to get married. And while the end of June was still a month and a half away, you were seriously considering calling the wedding off.

When you'd found out you were pregnant in February, you knew you had to keep it a close secret until you'd finished the first trimester, just incase anything happened to you or the baby, and each week since you'd found out you kept swearing to yourself you were going to tell Roy. You still hadn't. Which brought you to right now, where you were crying on the floor of your ensuite bathroom at the dead of night, at just over 12 weeks pregnant and a baby bump beginning to show.

Given the cold weather of early spring you'd kept it hidden pretty well so far, but with the progressively warmer weather, it was getting harder and harder to hide. Above that, you were now very much aware that since the baby bump had appeared, it was only going to get bigger - and you were in absolute tears over wether or not you were still going to fit into the outfit you'd picked. While your choice of outfit for your wedding wasn't anything extravagant, it made you feel extremely pretty, and hugged you in just the right way - it wouldn't if you were four months pregnant and with a baby bump that you felt was the size of Saturn.

One particularly loud sob had you clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping and praying to anything out there that Roy hadn't heard you. You didn't want him stressing, especially when you were crying over trivial things considering the life you'd always dreamed was within your grasp.

Roy's eyes blinked open though he wasn't entirely sure why, however, when he rolled over and attempted to wrap his arms around you, he was met with cold and empty sheets. The cool feel of the sheets beneath his fingers had him shooting awake; clearly you'd been out of bed a while, and considering it was pushing 2am, his first thought was that you were sick. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

Slowly, he made his way towards your en-suite bathroom, rubbing at his eyes to get him to wake up quicker. Pushing the door open, his entire being froze at the sight of you crying on the bathroom floor, him immediately falling to the ground next to you and pulling you into his lap. One hand brushed your hair out of your face while the other cupped the back of your head, pressing it into the crook of his neck. "It's okay Angel, I'm here, I'm here."

It took Roy roughly 15 minutes of rocking you gently in his arms and whispering soothing words into your hair before your sobs calmed down enough that you could talk without your words turning into a whimper. "C'mon Angel, talk to me." The way Roy oh so gently cradled your face had tears springing to your eyes again. "Or is it about me? Do you want me to call Molly? I'm sure she wouldn't mind-"

"No, it's about me." A fresh set of tears were rolling down your cheeks, but the heaving sobs that had been coming from your chest before ceased. "It's me, I've ruined everything."

"Angel..."

"I just wanted to wear a nice fucking outfit on my wedding day, and I can't, and its making me so sad it's stupid." Roy's thumb continuously wiped at the tears that were furiously running down your cheeks. "And it makes me even more sad because, because, I'm getting everything I've ever dreamed of and I'm sad over something stupid like what I can wear."

"It's not stupid, Angel face." Roy murmured against your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin familiar and comforting. "Nothings stupid if it makes you so upset. Just talk me through it, yeah? Why can't you wear what you picked? Did it get damaged or something?"

"No, no, it's fine, it's just- it won't fit me anymore." Roy pressed a kiss to your temple, immediately spouting words of reassurance that it would still fit you and if it didn't he'd hire the best tailor in the world to make it fit and that regardless, you'd look incredibly beautiful no matter what you wore. You shook your head gently. "It's not that Roy, it's, I'm-"

You readjusted yourself in Roy's lap, turning so that your legs were either side of his, caging him in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking down at the bump you could just see through one of Roy's old jerseys you'd fallen asleep in, while you avoided his concerned gaze. "It's not going to fit me anymore, because I'm pregnant, Roy."

Silence filled the bathroom.

When you finally gained the courage to look up at Roy, tears were pooled in his eyes, that wonderful smile of his making the most tender appearance you'd ever seen. "You're pregnant?" He whispered, mumbling the two words over, and over, and over again. "You're pregnant."

Before you could ask Roy if he was okay, he was pressing his lips to yours, allowing the tears to fall from his eyes though without the noise of a sob. He simply kissed you over, and over, and over again, only pulling away when he could no longer contain the smile that what pulling at his lips. Your hands cradled his cheeks, wiping away each tear gently with the pad of your thumb. "I can't believe I'm crying." He scoffed, though didn't move away from to ur touch as you continued to wipe away his tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, I find the vulnerability of it incredibly hot."

One of Roy's hands moved from the side of your thighs to cup your cheek, pushing hair back behind your ear as a watery smile took over his face.

"You know," Roy paused, tenderly running his fingers up and down the side of your neck as his hand slipped down from your cheek to hold you there. "If you'd come to me 5 years ago, back when Ted and Beard first started, and told me in 5 years time I'd have everything I'd ever dreamed of? And, with the gorgeous woman from the office outside the changing rooms? I would've laughed in your face and told you to fuck off." After a moments thought, he added. "I probably wouldn't have let anyone get close enough to me to tell me that in the first place, to be honest."

"Look how far you've come." You mused, one hand slipping into the hair at the base of Roy's neck as his tears slowly stopped. "Some might say that I've made you go soft.”

Roy laughed, head tilted back against the bathroom wall as he was prevented from throwing it back further. The tilt of his head upwards granted you the perfect position to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He smiled at you softly, bringing his hand forward from the side of your neck so that he could cup your jaw. "To be loved, is to be changed." He hummed, his chest tightening as tears filled your eyes once more.

"I love you, Roy." You whispered, as though even saying it would break the sincerity of the words slipping from your lips. Although you'd said them a thousand times, it was like Roy was hearing it for the first time all over again. "Like I really, really love you Roy." Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. "So much... so much so that I feel like I'm never going to be able to express it enough, like if I don't get it out of me, I might die."

Roy pressed a searing kiss to your lips, sliding his hand back up your jaw and under your ear, tangling his fingers in the hair there. "I love you too, more then i ever thought I was capable of loving anyone.” Roy leaned in for another kiss then pulled away with a smirk as you ground yourself into him. "Want me to show you how much I love you, yeah?"

"Definitely."

Roy put his hands back to their original place under your thighs, slowly moving the two of you from your position on the bathroom floor to standing once more. When he was standing, you held in his arms with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you continued the clash of tongue and teeth you'd started moments again. However, before he could get started on showing you just how much he loved you, you leaned away from him, eyes running over his whole face. "You might have to hold off on doing that thing with your hips, y'know, because of the baby."

"I'll stop doing that when the doctor tells me to stop."

~*~

Fortunately for you, at your next check up the following Thursday, the doctor gave you the all clear - on the health of the baby and the fact Roy could continue working magic with his hips. Considering you were nearly 14 weeks along, the ultrasound technician had offered to let you know the gender of the baby, but both you and Roy had agreed that you didn't want to know. You so seriously didn't want anyone to know, in fact, that Roy made a show of ripping up the envelope that contained the baby's gender right in front of the ultrasound technician after she offered it out to you; her suggestion of a gender reveal dying on her tongue.

Roy had been nothing but attentive since he'd found out; moving at your beck and call even more then normal, so much so that people around Nelson road were beginning to notice.

"Alright, what's going on?" The second Roy left your office, Isaac, Colin and Will crowed into the room, locking the door behind them. If you weren’t such a veteran of their shenanigans, you'd be getting concerned. "Are you dying?"

"Why would I be dying?" You asked, clicking the email you'd been writing closed, giving the three lads your undivided attention.

"Roy's been following you, like, more then usual though." Isaac stated, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Weird, innit."

Before you could question what they found weird about you talking to and hanging around your fiancé, Will stepped forward, his hands tucked sheepishly in his pockets. "You're pregnant, right? I'm like 80% sure you're pregnant."

Your hand came to rest against the small bump you'd concealed under your Richmond sweater.

"Holy fuck boyo." Colin gasped, smacking his hand into Will's chest. "She is. How did you know?"

"She's glowing." Isaac and Colin tilted their heads in sync while their gaze remained directly on you, as though they were trying to see what Will saw. When it appeared they couldn't, Will let out a sigh, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. "I don't know; maybe it's the lighting."

Silence took over your small office space, the four of you alternating between staring at each other and the hand that rested against your stomach.

"Angel, you got-" Roy paused at the sight before him, scanning the room with a pointed glare. While Isaac had had the sense to lock the main door to your office when he started his interrogation, it had seemed he had forgotten to lock the connecting door from your office into the changing rooms. You'd never been more thankful to be in an office with two doors.  After a few more seconds of assessment, he seethed out a "Fuck! Not a word of this to anyone, yeah?"

All three lads nodded in silence, scurrying from the room after a particularly harsh glare from Roy had told them they had overstayed their welcome in your office. As your head fell into your hands due to the stress of it all, Roy crossed the room, slipping his fingers into your hair and scratching gently at your scalp. "They're not going to tell anyone, Angel, don't stress."

"But, what-"

"No buts, or what if's, or anything." Roy chastised, pulling your head out of your hands and crouching down to meet you at eye level. He took your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "We tell everyone when you're ready. And if that's after the wedding, then that's after the wedding." Roy pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "And that's that."

You let out a long sigh, weight lifted from your shoulders at Roy's gentle touch and soothing words. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice."

~*~

You were too scared to put your outfit on. After almost 10 months of planning every detail and waking up to see your engagement ring on your finger, you were finally getting to be Mrs Kent. And you were too scared to go out there and get dressed.

When Will, Colin and Isaac found out you were pregnant, it was on accident, but going out there, before your man of honour, bridesmaids, Phoebe and Beard to put on your outfit would be intentionally revealing your baby bump. It was so stupid, you thought, to be this worried about something that would make people happy - that would make you and Roy happy. But a small part of you just wanted things to work out how you'd planned then in your head; like being able to wear what you'd picked to marry the love of your life.

However, you wanted to get married to Roy more then you cared about keeping the baby a secret.

Everyone gasped as you walked into the main part of the hotel room. You'd forgone a dressing gown in favour of getting ready in the comfort of pyjama shorts and one of Roy's old jerseys, wanting to have a part of him with you even though you wouldn't see him the night before the wedding.

Roy had actually wanted to forgo the traditional 'no seeing the bride bullshit,' him in favour of spending every second he could get with you, but Keeley and Jamie had convinced him it would make that moment of you walking down the aisle all the more special. Though as you walked into the room, you'd wished more then anything you'd convinced Keeley to let him stay with you. All you wanted was his hand in yours as you did this.

All eyes fell to the shadow of a baby bump that could be seen through the loose material of Roy's jersey; it was the one he wore at his very first Richmond match, Kent printed and worn proudly on the back. No one moved or even dared to breath.

"Surprise?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but the tense silence and feel of everyone's eyes on you had you shying away from your friends and family in a way you'd never done before. "I'm pregnant!"

Molly was the first to move, crossing the length of the room and pulling you into an embrace. "I love you." She whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm going to be an auntie." Within seconds the remaining people in the room swarmed you into one big group hug. Each of Colin, Keeley, Rebecca and Beard whispered congratulations to you, telling you just how beautiful you looked and how excited they were to see you walk down the aisle. Phoebe, however, pulled the funniest face at you, her brow tense in the spitting image of Roy.

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

Phoebe had magically broke the tension of the room, smiles all around as Molly and Keeley ushered you back to the other side of the door, helping you into your outfit and making sure your hair stayed in the way you'd styled it when you got changed. Fully dressed and feeling yourself, you stepped back into the main room with newfound confidence.

You were going to marry Roy - Roy who updated you on his book every night and valued your opinion on it, who still brought you lunch everyday at work, who was willing to hold you on the bathroom floor at 3am when he should've been sleeping, who made you feel like you were the only person in a room that mattered - and you couldn't be more excited.

Colin held your hand the entire drive from the hotel and the whole way from the car to the church doors. Only two pieces of wood separated you from everything you'd ever wanted. He pressed a featherlight kiss to your cheek and wished you luck before heading inside, leaving just you and Beard outside the building.

"You nervous?" He asked, moving his hand so that it rested lovingly on the small of your back.

"It's Roy." Roy always made you nervous. From the smile that had you weak in the knees when he actually decided to show it, to the butterflies the simple movement of his fingers against your skin caused; Roy had you swooning every time he looked at you. "I can't wait to get in there."

"Can you wait a second?" Ted Lasso was stood behind you, hands bashfully tucked into suit pants pockets.

"Ted." You gasped, opening your arms but not leaving Beard's side. The American rushed towards you, scooping you into a tender hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't make it..."

"Well, you know how Roy is, stubborn, hard-headed," Ted had aged a little since you last saw him on English soil, but he still held that quintessential ted spirit to him; even though he looked a lot more tired then you ever remembered him being. "Will do anything for the people he loves. Even if that's calling someone everyday for 8 months straight and convincing them to clear their calendar."

Roy who called one of your favourite people daily until he convinced them to make time to come to your wedding despite the fact they'd have to fly halfway across the world to attend.

"Well, I'm glad you're here Ted." He pressed a kiss to your temple, unwrapping himself from you and flattening out the front of his suit.

"I'll see you in there." Ted walked to the doors Colin had entered through moments ago, stopping and turning back to you at the last second. "You look beautiful by the way, you're practically glowing." With a knowing wink, Ted slipped through the doors, finding the way to his seat to wait for the ceremony to begin.

"Well, I think we're really ready now." You mused, linking your arm though Beard's. When you turned to flash a smile at him, you saw eyes filled with fondness, tears threatening to cloud his vision if he thought about the scene before him for too long. "Aren't we Willis?"

"Lets go, sweetheart." The pet name struck you to your core, your hand squeezing his bicep in reassurance. There was no one else you'd want to walk you down the aisle. "You're getting married!"

The ceremony ran perfectly. Willis walked you down the aisle and handed you off to Roy after whispering what you were certain was a threat in his ear. Tears brimmed Roy's waterline the whole ceremony, but they didn't spill over under you were pronounced husband and wife. No one commented on the tears that ran down Roy's cheeks, and you didn't think anyone was ever going to bring it up; a mutual understanding settling over the room that the Roy Kent that stood at the alter wasn't Roy Kent football sensation, but that he was Roy Kent, loving husband.

All those years ago Jamie had been completely and utterly right, all Roy needed was someone to show him it was okay to be soft. Thankfully, he had found that in you.

~*~

"Nell, go back to sleep baby, daddy's here."

Roy had his back turned to you as he rocked Penelope in his arms, murmuring some song that you couldn't quite make out under his breath to help her get back to sleep. In the 4 weeks since Penelope - or 'Nell' as Roy had lovingly started calling her - had been born, Roy had more then proved himself to be the amazing dad you knew he would be. Though he'd voiced his worries about not being a good dad several times throughout your pregnancy, each time you'd soothed away the worry; scratching your fingers against his scalp and reminding him of everything he'd ever done for Phoebe.

Phoebe had been the most excited to meet the baby, begging her mum to let her come over every single day after school so that she could spend time with her newborn cousin (even though that time was mostly spent with Phoebe in your lap with Nell in hers).

The Boys at Nelson Road came in for a close second when it came to being excited to meet the baby. Will, Colin and Isaac had made it their duty to show up to you and Roy's house every day after training when you were 7 months along in order to paint the babies nursery and build all the furniture that you'd bought.

They were even worse when you went into labour.

Roy had called Beard to let him know the two of you wouldn't be able to make it to work that Tuesday, and Beard loaded up the coach for a group trip to Richmond's hospital. You had the whole of AFC Richmond crowded in the waiting room, arms filled with stuffed animals, balloons and flowers. Jamie had charmed up the nurse who you were charged to, convincing him to let all of the players into your room at once. While most of the team fawned over the baby, gave you their best wishes then made their way back to the coach, Colin, Isaac, and Will asked to hold her, tears filling their eyes as they took in the sight of the tiny baby.

"She's beautiful." Colin whispered, lightly running the tip of his finger up and down her button nose. "With your parents, you're going to be the coolest kid ever. And Uncle Colin is going to make sure of it."

"You know," Will whispered, stiff as a board as he held Penelope on his arms, scared to even breath less it hurt the baby. "I remember that day I saw you with Phoebe in Tesco, and I told you I didn't realise you were a mum." Roy shot you a confused glance, reminding you you'd never actually filled him in on your trip to the supermarket that day with Phoebe. "And now you are one. It almost doesn't feel real."

"I've never held a baby before." Isaac admitted, the most relaxed holding her despite his inexperience. "It's weird, innit. Like, this baby I'm holding right now started out nothing and now she's real and alive and in my arms…Spooky."

Jamie, however, you practically had to force to hold Nell; and even then he was scared shitless. When you managed to convince him to take a seat on your hospital bed, he seemed less tense about holding her, but the ever present crease in his brow told you otherwise. "She looks just like you."

"She's got Roy's nose, and I bet she'll have his eyebrows too."

Jamie's eyes never left the baby, even as the other boys slipped out of the room with one last goodbye and a promise to come and visit Nell again when you got sent home.

"Ask us what her full name is." Roy kicked Jamie's foot, finally snapping his attention away from the newborn.

"You what?”

Apparently, he hadn't been listening, the tender tone to Roy's voice leaving as soon as it had arrived. "I said ask us what her full name is, fuckhead."

Jamie didn't ask you, he wasn't sure he could get the words out without choking up, the suggestion of the question springing tears to his eyes.

"Her full name is Penelope Jamie Kent." You hadn't seen Jamie so upset since Roy dragged him into your office, sobs wracking his body, two years ago before the journey up north to play against Manchester City at the Etihad.

He pulled Nell closer to his chest, hugging her as best as you could hold a baby, then passed her to Beard, pulling Roy in for the tightest hug you'd ever seen the two share. When Jamie came to hug you, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear; "You've made Grandad go all soft." And after a brief pause. "The rest of us too."

Beard didn't stay long after Jamie left, knowing the coach was only waiting on him to return to training. He muttered something under his breath, pressed a kiss to Nell's head and then handed her back to you, pressing a kiss to yours. "Jamie’s right. Spitting image of you. Though I do agree she has Roy's nose."

"I hope she gets his smile." You quietly confessed, not missing the way Roy's lips curled up into the wonderful  smile you loved so much. "We got something for you." Roy pulled out a gift bag from next to your 'we need to go to the hospital the baby is coming' bag and handed it to his fellow coach. Beard waisted no time opening the gift, a soft smile curling on his lips as he pulled out the mug, 'worlds best grandad' printed on the front and a Richmond crest printed on the back. "I love you...dad."

A tear silently ran down Beard' cheek but he didn't wipe it away, pulling you and the baby in for a group hug. After a tight squeeze, he opened up his arms, a silent invite for Roy to join. He did so without question, thanking Willis for everything.

Beard had used the mug at Nelson Road everyday since.

Nell had made a total of 3 visits so far to Nelson Road; every Thursday afternoon being the day you'd come to the dog track with her and disrupt afternoon training so that the boys could fawn over her as an end of the week treat. Tomorrow would be her 4th visit, and yet, Roy had been the one to wake up and tend to her when he'd have to be up in a few hours to coach Jamie and you could essentially sleep in until 12 and still be on time.

As he put Nell back inside her cot, you wrapped your arms around his waist and slid them up and under the front of his t-shirt. "You're such a good dad, Roy."

"Only cause you make me a good dad." He turned around in your hold, your hands now up the back of his shirt, his arms now over your shoulders/

"That doesn't even make sense." You countered, resting your chin against his chest so that you could look at him. Roy took the opportunity to press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.

"Fuck off, it totally does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

At a whine from Nell, the two of you fell silent, not wanting to wake her after Roy had just put her back to sleep.

"She know it makes sense." The two of your were looking down at Nell's tony from where she slept soundly in the crib.

"She's only agreeing cause it's you." You lowered your chin so that the side of your head rested against Roy's chest, giving you a better look at your beautiful baby girl. "She's a total daddy's girl already, you know."

"Gets that from her mother." Roy paused after he spoke, realising quickly that his words hadn't made much sense or come out in the way he intended. "I meant, she's a total me, girl. Like she loves me a lot because you love me a lot. Fuck."

"I knew what you meant, handsome."

Roy quirked his eyebrow at your response. "You did huh?" He swept you off your feet, literally, carrying you back to your bedroom with a slip in his step.

You hand slapped against his bicep, a gasp slipping from your lips as your pieced together Roy's words paired with his suggestive tone and that glint in his eye. "The doctor said no sex for 6 weeks, Roy."

"No penetrative sex for six weeks." Roy clarified, laying you down on the mused bedsheets and kissing his way down your form; starting with scrapes of teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck, all the way down to the thick skin of your thighs. "The guy said nothing about oral."

an : thanks for reading this far *mwah* I love you <33 I hope you enjoyed this!!! Please feel free to send in a request for Roy or Jamie I'd love to write it!!!

[daycourtofficial]

We started alone, in the end we’re okay

| Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Rhys’s sister!reader

| Summary: on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on the loneliest night of his life, and how he’s a long way from the person he had to be.

| Author’s note: yes this is inspired by Pretty Little Girl by Blink-182 how’d you know the last 45 seconds of that song are everything to me

| TW: mentions of physical abuse, blood, death

| WC: ~2k

Servants bustled up and down the halls of the Forest House, preparations being made for the Starfall holiday, one he and his family won’t be attending.

He was the only one left in the house - you had taken the kids to Night a day early so they could have a sleepover with their cousins. Meanwhile Eris had a meeting with some advisors in the morning he was unable to reschedule.

Eris strode toward his chambers, his long legs carrying him through the halls that have been the only witness to his comings and goings during his long life. He walked a path so familiar to him he could be reincarnated and still, his feet would carry him where he needed to go.

He had broken tradition when he became high lord, opting to stay in his previous chambers over taking Beron’s previous ones. He wanted to burn those rooms down, wanted to feel his fire consume every remaining remnant of Beron on this plane of existence.

He turned it into additional servant’s quarters instead. His father would have hated it. Lucien was delighted at the news.

Walking through his chambers, a pang echoes through him at the missing toys across the floor, especially the wooden sword he had been tripping over all week, asking Atlas to put it away, his request falling on deaf ears. The floors looked so empty, the room too quiet, despite his children being gone for only a handful of hours.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in deeply, the scents of his family already several hours old, the rooms slightly colder without their body heat warming them, especially the younger ones, unable to properly regulate their powers yet.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, sitting in the old leather chair that’s been in this room as long as he has. His amber eyes roam about the room, taking in every detail, despite very little physically ever changing about the room.

His mind wandered, opening doors into his past he had sealed shut. Doors he would give anything to forget where they sit, doors that he can hear screams from the other side of.

Without intending to, he stumbles through one of those doors, perhaps the largest and most foreboding of all.

The rag made a disgusting squishing noise as it met the tile of his bathroom. The pile was growing larger, his blood seeping out of the rags onto the floor.

He braced his hands on the counter, fingers gripping tightly to the marble counter, sucking in a breath through his teeth, trying not to think, to feel.

He grits his teeth, grinding them together as he pours more alcohol on the fresh rag, preparing himself for the sting.

He quickly placed the rag on his back, a small gasp coming from his lips at the pain. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he sparks a flame on the tile, needing something to distract him.

He skitters the small flame across the floor, rubbing the rag across his torn and shredded back, the alcohol seeping into his wounds, sterilizing them from Beron’s cruelty.

If only he were given the same treatment.

He closed his eyes, breathing deep and slow, trying to stop the images flashing behind them.

Lucien, his baby brother, the best of them, running through the woods, intentionally taking the paths most covered in root.

Lucien, whose long hair resembled Eris’s, and whenever they smiled, they both had the ability to unsettle people.

Lucien, who was slightly taller and stockier than his big brother. Lucien, who spent his young and vulnerable years searching for Eris in every room. Lucien, who Eris took on walks through the woods, teaching him how to snare rabbits.

He was too late to save his lover, had barely arrived in time to send word to Tamlin and redirect Lucien’s running towards the border with Spring.

He had warned and warned and warned Lucien not to test Beron, that he would fail as a father, fail to do the right thing every time.

Lucien, the snarky bastard, could never resist biting back, always testing the boundaries of those around him.

Eris wasn’t surprised when his father had called him to his office one night, desperate for answers to how any son of his could dare be enchanted by a lesser fae. He was, however, more than surprised at Beron’s ridiculous plan for punishing Lucien: forcing Lucien to watch as they killed Jesminda and then killing Lucien.

He couldn’t look at himself, couldn’t believe that they had gotten here, to this point, to this ridiculous sham of a family.

He didn’t know what he was doing until the knife was in his hand, blindly sawing at his hair until the ground around him was covered in strokes of red.

He ignored the throbbing in his back as he moved his hands, ignored the warmth spreading down his back as the wounds reopened. The hacked hair began coating his chest and sticking to the blood on his back.

He stood in a pool of his past, years and years of decay around his feet, a ghost looking back at him in the mirror.

At least his hair was dead before he took the blade to it.

There was no sign of his brother in his reflection. Just a short crop of red hair and some creature looking back at him. Something new roared beneath his skin, some new sense of purpose.

He dropped the knife, the blade clattering against the floor, the sound echoing through the room, but he couldn’t hear it over the rushing of his thoughts, the one thought consuming him.

He knew what he had to do. He would kill Beron. For Lucien, for his mother, for his brothers, for Jesminda.

For himself.

He walked out of the bathroom, into his chambers, opening the large window. The wind was sharp on the wounds on his back, but he couldn't help being drawn into the night sky before him.

An endless sea of stars above him, ones he knows are watching him make poor decision after poor decision. But still they call to him in some language he can’t understand, something deep within him yearning for their company.

He put on a loose shirt, the fabric suffocating his wounds. He slipped through the open window, the night sky infinite before him. Treading through the woods, he walks through unmade paths, paths that one day his children will forge in these woods.

They will never know the path he took that night, searching in the moonlight for a body, disrespected and desecrated. It took him a few hours, but he found what remained of her, parts of her body missing from predation. He waves his hand to shoo off some birds, their annoyed caws growing softer as they flew away.

He uses the shovel he brought to break ground, the wounds in his back that had began healing reopening, fresh blood mingling with the sweat dripping down his back.

All he could feel was the night air, somehow colder without his brother. His hands blister as he digs and digs and digs, offering penance for an atrocity not of his own.

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was the right thing to do, even though Eris was never able to properly discern between right and wrong. Was it out of respect for Jesminda, whose last moments were filled with nothing but terror and the worst the fae had to offer? Was it out of mourning for Lucien, his youngest brother gone forever? Was it penance for all the terrible things he had done in his life so far?

He pulls himself out of the hole, grunting as he gets out of the grave. He looks into it, thinking how easy it would be to just bury himself instead.

Will this be his end? A burial under the cover of darkness by someone he hardly knows?

Knees meet the dirt, his hands moving to her face. He never knew her, not really. Met her in passing at one of the markets in town. She gave him some pastry, her little stall so homey despite its impermanence.

Her eyes are open, not seeing anything. He offers a prayer to the Mother - for Jesminda, for Lucien, for everyone who comes into Beron’s orbit. He asks for safe passage for Jesminda, into whatever afterlife exists.

He closes Jesminda’s eyes, his movements slow and deliberate. He takes her arms - what’s left of them - crossing them against her chest. He fishes from his pocket, putting a gold coin in one hand and an apple in the other.

Food for the journey, to nourish the soul. Gold for enlightenment, a hope that Jesminda will receive some peace in the journey before her. He delicately kisses her on the forehead - a last touch, performed with love and selflessness. Words never before used to describe Eris Vanserra, words that won’t be used to describe him for centuries to come.

He gently scooped her into his arms, taking care to keep her head from rolling back. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

Except to Eris it did.

He walked with her over to the grave he had dug, gently lowering himself into the grave. His knees bent, delicatelt placing her on the ground as his chanting continued, pleading for safe passage, for a better ending than this. For an opportunity to come back, for her to get anything better than this.

Her body presses into the ground, relaxing into what will be her final resting place. Eris climbs out of the grave, peering down at his brother’s lover. His brother’s hope for the future, cruelly ripped from him by their father.

He grabbed the shovel, beginning to scoop dirt over her. It felt wrong to do so without Lucien or an audience. But it had to happen.

Once the grave was completely covered, Eris walked over to a patch of asters, using the shovel to scoop several of the flowers up. He lowered them onto her grave, a marking of sorts as he patted the soil around it so the roots would stay in place.

He looked at the asters, their purple hues looking so bright in the moonlight. Words are on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out to pay some form of respect for Jesminda.

But nothing comes out. After a long time, the inly noise around him the chirping of insects, he turns, treading back to the Forest House. His footsteps are quiet, but much heavier. He finds his window easily, taking one last look towards the night sky, wondering what their everlasting gaze would have to say about what they’ve seen before slipping back into his room.

But Eris isn’t there anymore. Many sleepless nights had been spent since then gazing at the stars, dreaming of a better life. Dreaming of the day he would get to see Lucien again, silently asking the stars for any help they could provide.

Eris never put much faith into the Mother, assuming she had forsaken him and left him to be on his own. Until he met you. You who walked on stardust and moonlit skies. You who facilitated a reconciliation between himself and Lucien.

Eris’s fingers push through his short hair, reminding himself of how far he has come since that fateful night. For the first time in a long time, his fingers ache to feel more length.

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 9

Chapter Summary: The first tournament task goes down, reader has an annoying partner for the Yule Ball Dance practice, and ends up with a ruined dress.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort

Content Warnings - cursing,

Word Count - 4.0k

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

The cold November air nipped at your face, it felt like you’d been standing out here for ages. You’ve lost count at the amount of times you heard someone say the first task of the tournament could start any moment now.

You had no idea who’d be going first, what dragon they’d be fighting, or what type of dragons there were, but you were horrified.

The familiar shouting of those two annoying twins you hated interrupted your thoughts, now you really regretted allowing yourself to be accidentally separated from Katie and Angelina.

“Gonna place your bets before it starts?” Fred hopped down next to you.

“See if Mr.Diggory will be able to outsmart the dragon?” George added, holding open a suit case, the names of each selected scribbled across the top, the bottom part was covered by a good amount of knuts, sickles, even some galleons.

“Or outcharm?” Fred looked at his brother as they both snickered. You let a heavy breath out through your nose.

“If I give you a sickle will you two leave me be?” You stood up from your leaned position on the wooden rails.

“Probably not-” George shrugged.

“We’ve already gone around the entire pitch now-”

“But you could still try and see!” George pretended to close the suitcase then reopen it, wiggling his brows. You glared at him and shut it.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled, snapping the latches shut.

You turned your attention back to the field, waiting for someone to walk out, for something to happen. The air was especially chilly today and you could feel your nose start to run, making you sniffle a bit. Unwillingly getting the attention of Fred.

“Those earmuffs can’t be doing much for you.” He nudged.

“They’re doing enough.” Which was a lie, they were doing so much less than enough. You’ve had those things since your first year and they were absolutely past their prime, they were barely blocking the cold from your ears.

“We both know that's not true, how ‘bout we swap?” He grinned as he pointed to his green and white beanie, you shook your head and grimaced in response. As always, Fred would not be taking no as an answer.

You tried to protest as he took off your earmuffs, hanging them around his neck and then taking off his beanie, shoving it onto your head and tugging it down until it went past your eyes.

Originally you were going to rip the beanie off, steal your earmuffs back, and maybe give Fred a harsh shove. But once you shifted the hat to where it wasn’t blinding you, the new warmth spreading around your head and across your cheeks was so much better. So comfortable.

“Nice, eh?” Fred smirked at you, you shrugged off his words, quickly turning your eyes back to the field as the stadium began to roar. A knot formed in your stomach once you saw the yellow and gold uniform, Cedric was first.

A silvery blue scaled dragon came out next. It was chained, but looked as if it still had enough room to move a good amount around the field. Its screeching roar made the knot feel tighter.

Hermione, who was just a row in front of you yelled something about it being a Swedish Short-Snout and flames being able to turn “your bones into ashes in seconds.” God, you felt terrified.

What if something happens? What if the chain breaks? What if Cedric gets truly hurt?

The creature whipped its tail just a few feet in front of Cedric. You gasped as the rest of the stadium did.

Cedric was able to get the golden egg in fifteen minutes, though it felt like an hour. You spent most of his turn with your hands over your face, peeking through your fingers.

Watching closely as he transfigured a rock into a dog to distract the dragon and began to run towards the egg. A yelp emerged from your throat once the dragon opened its mouth, turning its head towards Cedric letting blue flames blast out towards him, who was now jumping for cover behind a boulder.

You could see him sit up, back against the rock and hand hovering over the side of his face, which was now badly burnt.

“Well done dragon!” Fred cheered and clapped. You looked at him with a face of utter shock and disbelief.

“What is wrong with you? That thing’s gonna kill him!” You shoved him, your throat hurt from screaming.

“Oh he’ll be fine, he’s got a thick head.” Fred shrugged, continuing to cheer for the dragon.

Cedric successfully got the golden egg, then was shipped off to Madam Pompfrey for his face. You weren’t able to leave until the first task was officially over for everyone. Yet, you were already on the move to get out as soon as Dumbledore announced everyone could go. You left the pitch, immediately making your way towards the Hospital Wing.

Somehow you were able to have Madam Pompfrey let you see him this soon, she was already ushering a group of hufflepuff boys out when you were approaching the wing.

She let you go in when you promised her three minutes.

Cedric was laying flat on his back when you walked up, The one side of his face was covered in a slimy thick orange paste, you were still able to see some of the nasty marks.

“Charming right?” His voice was sarcastic as he noticed your grossed out staring, “It’s for my burns.” He frowned.

“Yeah, you look amazing.” You scoffed out a laugh, sitting down in the open chair next to his bed, “Do you know how long you’ll be here for?”

“A few days, hopefully.” You watched as his brows knit together as his eyes darted to your head, then to your face, then to your head again. “Whose hat is that?” He said blankly, eyes narrowed.

Your eyes went wide when you realized. Merlin, you didn’t even notice you still had Fred’s beanie on.

“Nobodys, it’s mine.” You stammered out, ripping the hat off and holding it tightly in your lap. Cedric stared some more at it then smirked, he could clearly see the F.W. knitted into the side of it.

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, still smirking.

“So what's the egg do?” You ignored his silent speculation.

“I can’t believe it.” He chuckled, continuing on.

“Shut up, it was just a small favor.” You smacked his arm with the hat, “What does the egg do, Ced?” You leaned back in your seat.

“It wails. Like an ear-shattering shriek if you open it.” He said flatly and you scrunched up your face at the disappointing thought of it.

“All that struggle just for a screaming egg?” You let out a breathy chuckle, Cedric didn’t respond.

You saw his head lift up slightly and eyes glance to the entrance doors, they lit up. Looking behind you to see Cho standing there, a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in her hands and a nervous smile on her face.

“I’ll let you two have some time alone.” You looked at him in amusement, standing up and nudging his foot before leaving. You gave Cho a sweet knowing smile as you passed by her, she smiled back and nodded.

Harry was opening the golden egg by the time you entered the common room, now you knew exactly what the shrieking Cedric was talking about sounded like.

Katie and you walked into McGonagall's class confused, the floor had been cleared of all desks and chairs, except one in the corner that had an old dusty phonograph sitting on top of it, Flich standing by it.

“What do you think this is for?” Katie giggled to you as McGonagall directed the girls and boys to separate sides of the room.

“How much do you want to bet that she’s gonna make us dance?” You giggled back.

“If she does, I know who you should pick.” Katie smirked as she nodded her head to where the twins were standing. You were able to let out a sound of disgust before McGonagall began to talk.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since it’s inception. On Christmas Eve we and our guests we'll gather in the great hall for a night of well mannered frivolity! As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost…a dance.” The room erupted into gasps and silent yet excited whispers.

Katie looked at you with a lit up eyes. You gave her your best faux grin, all you felt was dread. A dance meant getting a date to go with. You weren’t very close with any of the boys in your house, Cedric would definitely use this as his chance to ask out Cho, and you wouldn’t even dare to think about asking either of the twins. Not even as a last resort.

“Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight!” McGonagall turned to the girls side of the room, going on with her lecture. After a crude comment from Ron and an awkward yet humorous dance tutorial including him and McGonagall, you were instructed to find a partner to practice with.

“Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!” Of course Katie made a beeline towards George while you looked around the room. You tried your best to find a boy to dance with before they all got claimed by another girl.

There seemed to be no luck, everyone was already standing or making a way to their partners. Oh God, you were terrified this would mean you’d have to dance with Flich. You turned without looking and bumped into someone.

“Need a partner?” That someone being Fred, grinning with his hands behind his back. No luck.

Before you decided whether to reject him or not, you looked around the room one more time, looking at Filch then back at Fred who held out his hand for you. Fuck it.

You took his hand hesitantly and got in position as the music started. Fred had that same stupid smile on his face, the one that always looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter, the one he always had on when he knew he was pissing you off, when he knew you were annoyed.

“Why do you find me being miserable so amusing?” You scowled at him as you both shifted around.

“I reckon you look a bit cute when you’re frustrated.” Fred shrugged. Your eyes went wide and your feet jerked, making your movements stutter at his response.

“What?” You’d lost your train of thought, any snarky responses were gone.

“I’m being honest.” He hummed, “Now come on, let that secret slumbering swan take flight!” He encouraged, beginning to count along with the steps.

After what felt like ages of dancing around the room in circles and “accidentally” stepping on each other's feet, you exited that room as quickly as you could.

The next class was already coming down the corridor by the time you burst out the doors, you stared at the ground as you walked, mind plagued with Freds comment.

Your name being called pulled you out of your thoughts, you looked up to see a concerned Cedric walking up to you.

“You look…mortified, what’s happened now?” He lowered his chin, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I just had to dance with Fred, that was bad enough but then he…nevermind.” You chose to cut off your rant, if you told Cedric what Fred said, you’d never hear the end of it. “Anyways, we have a dance coming up on Christmas. You better ask out Cho while you can. I-I can’t talk right now, I’ve got to get to herbology.” You spoke quickly, not letting Cedric even have a second to respond before you were already on your way.

It’s been over a month since the Yule Ball has been announced. It's happening tomorrow, your dress your mum said she sent was supposed to be here by today, and you still haven't gotten a date to it. It felt as if every single person around you had paired up with someone. Even the bloody twins had scored dates with Angelina and Katie.

“And you said yes?” You gawked at Angelina as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Of course I did!” Angelina scoffed playfully.

“He threw a paper ball at you! What kind of crummy way is that?”

“It was Snape's class! We couldn’t talk, I think he was just trying to give an example to his brother too.” She shrugged.

“Great example that is.” You huffed as you three approached the table and sat down. “Still can’t believe you both agreed to go out with them.”

“They really aren't all that terrible! Sure, they’ve had some bad pranks, but they’re not evil. You just hate them.” Katie shook her head at you.

“So maybe they’re not as bad as I seek them out to be, whatever, that still doesn’t change the fact that they’re annoying. Or that you both have dates and I don’t.” You muttered out the last sentence, resting your chin on your hand.

Speaking of the twins, you hadn’t seen them all morning. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sleep in on weekends, but usually they’d be wandering around in the Great Hall or somewhere near by now. You were quickly pulled out of your self mulling when Colin, a first year, nervously tapped you on the shoulder while holding out a large box.

“Parcel for Ms.Y/L/N?” He handed it to you anxiously, you smiled and thanked him before he ran off. You felt your own face light up as soon as you saw that the package was from your mum.

“What’s that?” Katie asked, watching you stand up and excitedly tear off the wrapping paper.

“My dress for the ball!” You grinned as both girls gave you an “ooooo!” in response.

“About bloody time! I was starting to get nervous that you’d have to show up in your robes.” Angelina chuckled.

“Right?” You nodded. “I just hope it’s the right one I asked my mom to grab.” You thought out loud, and it was.

Angelina and Katie both shot up as you gasped at the sight of the dress. All three of you stared at it in awe as you carefully pulled it out of the box. God, it looked better than from when you last tried it on after you saw it sitting in your mum's closet.

It was the most beautiful shade of a pale blue you’ve ever seen, delicate yet elegant embroidered into the fabric, and a flowy skirt.

“Merlin, that’s gorgeous.” Angelina commented as you held the dress up your body. “You’ve got to try it on.”

“Yeah!” Katie agreed as she stood up. “We’ve got to see what it looks like on you!” You just waved them off.

“You two can wait until tomorrow night.” They both let out groans of protest.

“Shove off, you got to see us in our gowns!” Angelina rolled her eyes playfully.

“Yours both arrived early!”

“So? It’s only fair we get to see your late arrived one too!” Katie tugged you by the arm, beginning to try and drag you out the Great Hall. “Plus you’ve got to make sure it fits! If it doesn’t, I know some tricks.” You gave in, holding your dress up carefully and making your way towards the stairs.

The three of you grinned and giggled like you were twelve as you moved quickly up the changing stairs, it became a race of who could get to your dorms faster, and you were winning.

As you got closer to Gryfinndor tower, you felt less like an anxious bundle of nerves, forgetting about the stress of not having a date, only focused on wanting to put on that beautiful gown.

As you made your way to the Fat Ladys portrait, you ignored the giggles coming from behind the door, you thought nothing of them, it was probably girls talking about the ball and their dates. It’s been most of what you heard these past few weeks.

Angelina and Katie jogged up behind you as you showed off your dress to the woman in the portrait, earning a compliment and saying the password to be let in.

The three of you were merely entering the common room when you were met with two grinning freckled faces and some sort of liquid being thrown at you.

The twins stood across from you, holding now empty bottles. There were no longer smiles on their faces or yours. Only horrified expressions.

The room was quiet. The only noise left being a gasp leaving your lips as you looked down at your ruined gown and the sound of the droplets of ink falling from your now soaked dress hitting the common room floor.

Whatever potion/sludge/ink- Whatever disgusting watery liquid they’d thrown from the bottles had splashed all over your dress, some of it hit Angelina and Katie behind you, and your skin. But those were the least of your worries, the pale color was stained with streaks and blots of hideous orange ink.

Tears were already brimming in your eyes as the twins both began to babble apologies at the same time, their voices overlapping each other, eventually going back and forth.

“We thought you were Ron! We were trying to prank Ron!” Fred sputtered out.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, this was for Ron!” George added.

“We’re so sorry y/n, we really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“A prank?” Your voice was already wavering. “You call this a prank?” You cried out, shaking the stained fabric at them.

“Listen, we can clean it up! We’ve got-” Fred tried to explain. Angry tears began to fall from your eyes before you stopped him.

“Piss off! The Yule Ball is tomorrow night! How could you get all of that out in a day?” You shouted as you threw the dress at the two boys, not caring about it anymore now that it was all messed up. “Actually, I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, you’ve ruined everything! Are you happy?” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the common room, letting out an embarrassing sob while going to the nearest bathroom on the floor.

You could hear the girls begin to tell them off.

“What is wrong with you!” Katie shrieked at them.

“We never thought it’d be you three walking in! It was a prank meant for Ron!” One of the twins defended.

“It was a shitty one at that!” Angelina barked.

“We never meant to hurt anyone with it!”

“Yeah? Well now you’ve made her cry!” Angelina continued on, while you felt more embarrassed than ever.

You’ve now failed at the one thing you thought you’d never do, you promised yourself you’d never do: Cry in front of Fred and George. Let them see you vulnerable.

You couldn’t believe how you were just beginning to tolerate the twins. Just starting to believe that maybe they weren’t all that bad.

It wasn’t long after you hid in one of the stalls when you heard Angelina and Katie's sympathetic calls for you. Soon you saw the two pairs of feet outside the stall door.

“We know you’re in there. It’s just us. You can come out.” Angelina's voice was gentle, holding the same tone as if she was talking to a scared puppy.

You wanted to respond, you tried to speak but all that came out was a pathetic cry. The disappointed breaths from both of the girls didn’t go unnoticed, you just knew they were frowning at each other pitfully.

“I look like a fool.” You whispered out, voice hoarse.

“It’ll be alright, there’s got to be a spell to get the sludge and stains out of it!” Katie tried to help.

“Do you know it?” You rasped out, you didn’t mean to be so snappy towards them, but you were pissed and embarrassed beyond belief.

“No…but maybe a teacher does! Flitwick basically knows every charm in the book!” You let out an unamused breath at Katies words. Yeah, sure. Flitwick will take time out of his day just to fix some stupid girls dress.

You didn’t say anything, you ripped off some toilet paper from the roll and wiped your cheeks with it. The first bell of the morning rang, which was a five-minute warning until the first class of the day.

Fuck, was it already 9?

“Don't let me hold you up, just tell McGonagall I'm sick if she asks.” You sighed. Katie said your name sadly.

“You can’t stay in there all day.” She tutted.

Yeah? Watch me. You almost wanted to say, but again, they weren’t the ones deserving to be snapped at.

“Just go!” You cried, “I’m not going anywhere looking like this.” Neither of them responded, you held in your cries until you saw their feet walk away and the bathroom door shut.

It wasn’t until the end of lunch when you finally left. It was pathetic, skipping two full classes and most of lunch because you were too busy crying in the bathroom and attempting to scrub the stains off your school robes and hands.

The least you could do was make it to Potions, though you really didn’t want to face the twins after your outburst at them. But, maybe when you walked in there puffy eyed and with tear-stained cheeks they’d feel bad, maybe that could be your silent revenge.

However, when you did enter that classroom. Neither of the boys were there, neither of them showed up all class period. They didn’t show up at dinner either. Which was a relief but also puzzling. They usually never skipped meals unless they were up to something. Were they too ashamed to see you after what they did?

Angelina and Katie already told you in the morning that they both wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner, they’d be busy helping Madam Hooch with something Quidditch related. Maybe that’s what Fred and George were doing too.

You left the Great Hall feeling worse than when you came in. Eating alone was never fun, especially when you were already feeling mopey.

“Oh God I was wondering when I’d see you. Angelina and Katie told me what happened.” Cedric said as he caught up to you as you were walking in an empty hallway.

“Yeah?” You stopped and looked at him, he gave you a sympathetic nod. “Good, now you know I’m gonna take out the twins.” You scoffed.

“What? Take them out on a date or in a deadly way?” Cedric chuckled.

“It’s not funny, Ced. They’ve fucked it all up.” You scowled, crossing your arms.

“There’s got to be something you can do?”

“I haven’t got a date nor a dress anymore. There’s no point of going.”

“Don’t be like that, you can still go.” Cedric sighed as you only shook your head slowly.

“There’s no point.” You dropped your arms to your side and shrugged, “Think I’m just gonna go to bed early. Goodnight Ced.” He frowned and watched as you drug yourself down the hallway.

The Fat Lady gave you a sad look as you muttered the password to her, entering the common room with slouched shoulders and a low gaze. You stayed that way until you entered the girls dormitory.

There was no way of missing the dress that was now laid nicely along your bed. Your steps quickened as you approached it, the dress was cleaned of all stains. You picked it up as if it would crumble into ashes when you touched it, it looked even better from before it was ruined.

There was a small gift box sitting with it, you stared in shock as you popped it open to reveal a necklace laying inside, an aquamarine pendant sparkling off of it. It came with a small note card with the writing nicely written down.

A replacement since the old one broke. We suck, we’re sorry. xx - F & G

tell me what you thought! <3

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @honeybee240 @pillowjj

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[stevesjockstrap]

kinktober 5: Corroded Coffin/Steve & group sex

Rated E • Corroded Coffin polycule + Steve • famous Corroded Coffin, regular guy Steve, no UD, indeterminate time frame, implications of free use, double penetration

Suggested by @fuctacles

Corroded Coffin had always been close; maybe a lot closer than anyone would’ve expected. No one remembered how it had started, really. Just a bunch of dudes stuck in close quarters together for too long, especially in the early days where groupies were unheard of. Guys messed around with their friends, helped them out, right?

Eddie knew what they had was taboo, and of course this unspoken thing continued after the band had hit it big, hiring assistants and management, through relationships and falling outs. The band knew they always had each other. That had worked for them for so long, why stop now?

Until Steve Harrington crashed into his life, uprooting everything Eddie had thought possible. He was nobody, just a normal man who worked a boring office job. They’d crossed paths randomly, at a hotel where Steve was attending a work conference. Eddie had made a fool of himself, unable to speak or make sense, mystified at the beautiful man in front of him.

The band laughed at Eddie falling so hard so fast with this regular guy, figuring it would burn out as fast as all of their attempts at separate endeavors always had.

Eddie soon learned that Steve was very needy, and found the idea of others joining them more than appealing. He wasn’t put off by Eddie’s shy admission of the band mates helping each other out. It wasn’t the dealbreaker it had been in the past. Eddie, and everyone else, were pleasantly surprised.

He had talked Steve into taking a sabbatical at work to join the band on their international tour. He’d finally caved, as there'd be no way Steve would survive without his boyfriend for the months they’d be gone. The few days or weeks in the beginning of their relationship had been unbearable for him.

The boys were even more hyped up than usual after the show tonight, rushing through meet and greets. It may have had something to do with Steve waiting for them in the green room in only a pair of baby pink panties, cock hard and plug already in place.

Eddie smirked at him, taking his time as he licked across his sensitive nipples while Drew pushed into him from behind. Steve’s own dick was engulfed by Jeff’s skilled mouth and his hands were working Gareth’s hole and cock. They had all perfected their roles, the boys knowing what each other wanted before they could ask for it. And Steve fit in quickly and immediately, completely uninhibited and giving as good as he got.

Eddie usually found himself hanging back, wanting to watch them take Steve apart and then use him to exhaustion. Steve was the most insatiable person Eddie had ever met. He’d come again and again and still cry and whine for more. Jeff and Drew were mostly useless after coming once, so then it was up to Gareth and Eddie to work him to completion.

Not that anyone ever complained.

Once Drew was snoring on the other couch and Jeff was chugging a bottle of water, Eddie slid into his twice-filled hole as Steve bottomed out into Gareth.

“Oh shit, baby. You love being in the middle, huh?” Eddie gasped as he clenched around him.

“Love all of it,” he murmured, starting the rhythm of their thrusts. He cried out as he fucked himself back and forth between them. Gareth was unusually quiet, and Eddie realized Steve’s fingers were shoved into his mouth.

“Gareth really wanted Steve to fuck him, but he said he didn’t want Becky to have to listen to his wailing. Her room is right next to us here,” Jeff explained.

Eddie chuckled, sucking a dark bite into Steve’s shoulder.

Their publicist had put up with a lot the last few years. She really liked Steve, probably because he was so easy going and friendly. Being gorgeous probably helped, but Steve always tried to help out with whatever Becky needed.

Gareth reached up to pull the fingers away from his mouth to grumble, “Don’t know why you have to suck up to her, you’re already her favorite.”

They both fucked forward hard at the same time, making Gareth cry out loudly. Proving his point, Steve shoved three fingers back in, snorting at his choked off noise.

Gareth came quickly after that, rutting back to try to make Steve come first but Eddie pushed two dry fingers in alongside Steve’s cock as Steve jerked him off. He didn't stand a chance.

“Want me all to yourself now, princess?” He teased as they switched positions, Steve riding him fast. His cock was hard and dripping, bouncing with him as he sunk down onto Eddie. They both jolted as Gareth decided to get revenge by pushing his own thick fingers next to Eddie’s cock.

“Yesss,” Steve whined. “More, Gare. That’s- oh fuck. Shove your cock in too.”

Eddie laughed but Gareth spit into his other hand and worked himself back to hardness. He pushed at Steve's shoulder to get him into a better angle, holding himself above Eddie’s chest. After only a few moments of rubbing his cock between their bellies, Steve came again, easing the way for Gareth as he slowly pressed in beside Eddie’s cock.

The tightness around his cock was insane. But looking up at both of their faces was better. He’d never seen Steve like this before, eyes unfocused, keening loudly as he and Gareth found a rhythm to fuck into him together.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot,” Jeff groaned from his seat, leaning forward unabashedly staring at where they were all connected.

Steve pulled away a bit, and Eddie stilled. But he only pushed up on one arm to reach back with the other, teasing his fingers around the stretched skin. The other two groaned with him.

“So fucking full, oh my god,” he nearly shouted.

Gareth giggled and shoved forward roughly, making all three of them cry out. When he continued, Steve was the one making all the noise. So much for not pissing Becky off.

They both had the same idea, both of their hands coming to cover Steve’s mouth simultaneously.

“Gunna come, Gare, oh shit,” Eddie warned.

“Me too.”

Eddie reached one hand to pull at the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, bringing him in for a filthy kiss as Gareth pulled Steve’s hips back and forth. Steve came again, squeezing impossibly tighter around them, Eddie swallowing his noises as they continued fucking him through it.

He felt Gareth’s release hot around him before he succumbed to his own climax.

When he’d caught his breath, Steve was laying on his chest, a satisfied sort of smirk across his face.

“We are definitely doing that again,” he mused.

“Oh, you are trouble,” Gareth responded where he was sprawled on the floor a few feet away, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead as he panted.

Insatiable as always, Steve somehow conned Eddie into eating out his abused hole in the shower until he came twice more.

They bought flowers and a bottle of wine for Becky, who only avoided eye contact with them for a couple days afterwards.

Dividers by @/steddiecameraroll-graphics & @/fuctacles

[sailtomarina]

Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere. 

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

 “You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear. 

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?��

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings. 

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.” 

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.” 

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.” 

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!