#i have so many more i love just as much but these stood out to me in this moment.... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halfmoonaria · 2 days ago

Text

what i can’t say

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara wants the only person she can’t have, but she’ll do whatever it takes to change that —even if it means risking everything.

word count: 10.7k

author’s note: yall don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday this friday on the 22nd!

Tara wasn't used to hearing the word "no."

Growing up, she'd mastered the art of getting exactly what she wanted, whether it was a toy, a treat, or just a little more attention.

All it took was a well-timed look, a hint of a pout, or a small scene in a public place—not that she ever felt bad about it. After all, it always worked, and it always felt worth it.

But more than any toy or treat, Tara always seemed to have what she wanted most: you.

Her best friend since... well, since you both were small enough to think scraped knees were the end of the world. You'd been there from the start, the friend who laughed with her, who stood by her through every phase and whim.

Tara didn't have to beg or throw a fit to keep you close. You just were. It was like you were woven into each other's lives, and if anyone asked, she'd say you'd always be there—like you were something she'd managed to keep just for herself.

If anyone asked, Tara couldn't quite recall a time before you.

You were there in every memory that mattered, the friend who understood her quirks, finished her sentences, and knew every dream she'd ever had.

You were inseparable, not just in the way kids cling to each other, but in the way people do when they know they'll never quite find someone who gets them like this again.

You shared everything with your clothes, midnight snacks, and every embarrassing crush you'd ever had.

You laughed together about the silly things you thought were love back then, sharing conversations about who you'd marry someday and who had the best smile.

Although. Tara was always a little quieter during these talks, listening more than sharing, and you never thought much of it. That was just Tara, after all, always keeping a bit of herself back, tucked away in her own mind.

But when it came to your middle school crush, she never missed a chance to tease you, brushing him off as if he wasn't as special as you seemed to think.

She'd laugh and tell you he wasn't as funny as you made him out to be, or that his smile really wasn't anything to write home about.

To you, it was just typical Tara, always finding a way to poke holes in the things you liked.

You didn't notice how her smile faltered when you gushed over him or how her gaze turned a little sharper, though even she didn't fully understand why.

It left her with an uneasy feeling, the kind she could never quite explain, that made her want to change the subject whenever she could.

And as time passed during this time, it seemed like your crush only grew, and so did the way you talked about him.

No matter how many times Tara brushed off your comments or tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, you still lit up whenever his name came up.

Brian.

Brian slipped into conversations almost daily, whether it was about the way he made everyone laugh in class or how he'd held the door for you that morning. And each time you brought him up, Tara felt a pang of irritation she couldn't quite explain.

She never told you how much she despised Brian, but the feeling ran deep. It gnawed at her whenever you mentioned him, and even though she tried to brush it off, she found herself disliking him more and more.

The worst part was, she couldn't understand why. It wasn't like you weren't allowed to like a boy—that was just part of life, after all.

Whenever she hinted at her frustration with her mom, she'd hear the same thing: it was normal, fun even, to have a crush, and Tara would experience it too someday.

But she hadn't. She'd never felt that way about any boy in your grade, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she should.

It confused her, and in a way, it confused you too. You'd always laughed off the fact that Tara never seemed to "crush" the way you did, teasing her about how she'd figure it out someday.

But whenever you'd gush over Brian, Tara would just sit quietly, trying to ignore the strange knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten with every word you said.

Time went on, and those middle school crushes never quite faded.

Brian only seemed to grow more attractive, transitioning from the shy boy you liked to someone who was effortlessly charming, with a confidence that made everyone notice him.

Back then, you'd have called him "cute," but now, there were new words—hot, gorgeous—terms that made Tara roll her eyes every time they left your mouth.

But you still felt that rush of excitement when he was around, that same giddiness you'd had since you were ten, only now it felt a little more real.

Tara, on the other hand, hadn't changed much when it came to relationships.

While others around you both dated, broke up, and fell in love, she stayed quietly distant, brushing off questions and teasing about why she never seemed interested in anyone.

The truth was, she didn't really know why herself. There was a part of her that felt left out when you gushed about Brian, when your other friends talked about crushes or brought dates to dances. She tried to tell herself that she just wasn't interested yet, that maybe someday she'd feel what everyone else seemed to.

But as the years went by, Tara started to realize that maybe she was different—and she couldn't shake the strange sense of frustration that came with that realization, especially whenever Brian was mentioned.

Somewhere along the way, as high school turned into something more serious, so did her thoughts about you.

Tara didn't want to admit it at first—not to herself, not to anyone. The idea crept up quietly, unexpected and unwanted, like some shadow she couldn't shake.

The way you'd laugh at something silly, the familiar warmth of your hand in hers, or the way her heart would skip when you'd throw an arm around her shoulders. It all made sense now, but it was a sense she desperately didn't want.

When the realization hit her, it was like she couldn't breathe.

There was this tiny voice in her mind that whispered, almost cruelly, You're in love with her. Tara's immediate reaction was to shut it down, to deny it with everything she had. This couldn't be right. She wasn't in love with you.

That wasn't what best friends did. She told herself she was just confused, that maybe it was normal to feel this strongly about someone you'd known your entire life.

But every time she saw you look at Brian—every time you said his name with that sparkle in your eyes—it felt like a punch to the gut, and there was no denying it anymore.

The more she tried to reason with herself, the clearer it became. And that terrified her.

She couldn't let herself feel this way about you. You were her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone else.

The idea of telling you—of you finding out and looking at her with pity, or worse, disgust—made her stomach twist. She could already imagine the awkward smile, the way you might back away, laugh it off, or even leave her behind. It would shatter her, and she knew that.

And so, she decided then and there that this secret would stay with her.

She'd lock it away, bury it so deep that even she could forget about it someday. Telling anyone—even her parents—wasn't an option.

Not only did she fear their reaction, but she knew they wouldn't understand. To them, you were her friend, nothing more, and the thought of losing you, or of anyone making her feel like her love was wrong, was enough to keep her quiet.

But keeping quiet wasn't easy. The secret felt like it was burning a hole through her, consuming her thoughts and leaving her frustrated in ways she couldn't explain.

She wanted to be around you, but every moment with you felt like a reminder of what she could never have, and it only made the ache grow stronger.

She was angry, scared, and hopelessly in love with the one person she could never tell.

So she became skilled at hiding the depth of her feelings, putting on a mask that had somehow become part of her daily life.

She played her role well, acting like nothing had changed between you both.

At school, she kept her gaze casual, listening to you talk as if she didn't want to lose herself in the way your lips moved.

During sleepovers, she'd lie next to you, forcing herself to focus on anything but the warmth of your arm just inches from hers.

And at parties, now that you were both old enough to go, she'd laugh and dance alongside you, all while pretending her stomach wasn't in knots from the way you looked at her under dim lights, a playful grin lighting up your face.

It was like living with a constant tug-of-war inside her, balancing between wanting to be near you and needing to keep her heart steady.

She'd perfected the art of nonchalance, even when you made it nearly impossible. When you got excited about something—eyes wide, laughing about some small victory—Tara would have to swallow down the urge to reach out, to brush a strand of hair from your face or lean in just a little closer.

The hardest moments were the little things, the 'normal' things, like when you'd give her an easy, carefree compliment, your eyes warm and sincere.

She'd feel the blush rise to her cheeks, and she'd quickly look away or laugh it off, hoping you didn't notice the way her voice wavered.

And when you held her hands, like you always did, squeezing them to give her a little boost of courage, she'd act as though it didn't send her heart racing, as though she wasn't fighting the impulse to hold on tighter.

Every smile you threw her way, every moment you lingered too close, she had to act like it didn't make her insides flip.

She trained herself to respond with that same easy smile, to pretend she didn't feel like the air had been knocked out of her whenever you looked at her like she was the only one in the room.

It was a constant game of pretending, a battle against herself that she had to win every single day.

And as much as she tried to hide it, each touch, each laugh, each simple, familiar look left her more tangled in her own emotions.

She tried to tell herself that these things were just... normal. Friends did these things all the time, she told herself, even if everything in her felt far from normal.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, her resolve was starting to crack. She couldn't help but notice her jealousy flare up when she saw you talking to other people, especially Brian.

Then, one Tuesday at lunch, you dropped a bombshell that flipped her world just a bit more.

She leaned back, half-focused on your conversation with the others at the table, when she saw you walking toward her with a grin so bright it felt like it could light up the whole room.

Tara felt her heart jump at the sight, her thoughts immediately swept into the excitement that was clearly radiating off of you.

You barely took your seat before bursting with excitement. "Tara!"

Tara's smile matched yours, though a part of her already felt a small pang of unease. But she pushed it aside and leaned in eagerly, mirroring your excitement. "What happened?"

You practically glowed as you told her, "He sat next to me in class today." Tara's chest tightened, but she held her expression steady, keeping that casual, easy smile.

She already knew who you meant—you didn't even have to say his name. It was in the way your voice softened, how your eyes sparkled with excitement she rarely saw except when you were really, really happy.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Seeing you so... in love, so giddy, felt like a punch she wasn't ready for.

You practically glowed, your whole personality seeming to shift as if you were that younger version of yourself again, like back in middle school when every new crush filled you with wide-eyed excitement.

Except now, it wasn't an innocent schoolgirl crush; it was real, and you were already slipping further from her reach with each passing second.

Tara kept smiling, but inside, every bit of her was tangled up in knots.

You'd never look at her like that. Never talk about her with that bubbly, uncontainable happiness. The thought clawed at her, a reminder she could never push away.

She was your best friend, sure, but she'd never be the person who made your cheeks flush or your heart race. And somehow, knowing that made it even harder to keep that same easy smile on her face.

"And?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her, even as she felt a knot forming. She listened as you recounted every word, every laugh you'd shared with him in that class.

Then you dropped the real news, your eyes sparkling. Your grin only widened. "And then, right before class ended, he asked me to go with him to that party next weekend."

Tara's heart sank, yet she barely let the smile slip. She forced herself to open her mouth in surprise, eyes wide, like she was just as thrilled as you were. "Really?" she said, trying to sound as shocked and happy as you seemed, her voice just a bit too bright. "Did you... did you say yes?"

Of course you did. Tara felt stupid for even considering asking you that question.

But you didn't seem to mind, you just nodded eagerly, your whole face lighting up. "Obviously!"

"Oh, wow. That's... that's great, actually," she said, her voice a little too steady, but it was the best she could manage.

Inside, though, she was unraveling. You were actually going with him. It shouldn't have been such a shock—after all, this was what you wanted, right?

But knowing that you'd be there, dressed up, all smiles and laughter... with him... felt like a lead weight sinking in her chest.

She could already picture it, the two of you in some dimly lit room with music thumping, Ethan leaning in close to say something to make you laugh, you smiling up at him like he was the only person in the world.

The thought of it made her throat tighten, her mind racing with feelings she didn't even want to name.

"Are you excited?" she asked, her voice coming out just barely above a whisper. She hoped you wouldn't notice how strained it sounded, how much effort it took just to ask.

You nodded, your smile impossibly bright. "Yeah, I mean... I didn't think he even noticed me like that, you know? But now... maybe he does."

The way you said it—hopeful, almost in disbelief—cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Maybe he does. Those three words stayed in her head, echoing louder with each second.

She was supposed to be happy for you, and maybe part of her was, but mostly, she just felt hollow.

Because even though you'd never know it, she'd been looking at you the way you were looking at him, longing for that same chance to mean something more to you. And now she was faced with the awful reality that she might never get that chance.

Swallowing down the bitterness, she forced a tight-lipped smile. "You'll have a great time, I'm sure."

But even as she said it, a part of her was already wondering if she'd do something she'd regret. The thought of watching you fall for someone else—someone who wasn't her—was more than she could stand.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she'd do almost anything to keep you from slipping away.

Your eyes brightened again. "You should come with us!"

Tara's heart twisted at the invitation, feeling both flattered and devastated. Of course you'd want her there, being the good friend you were—unaware of what it did to her to see you light up over someone else.

Forcing herself to stay casual, she shrugged, managing a small playful smirk. "I'm not exactly great at third-wheeling."

Her voice sounded steady enough, but inside, it felt like she was clinging to the last threads of composure.

She couldn't stand the thought of watching you fall for him right in front of her, yet the idea of saying no, of letting you go without her... that hurt, too.

Maybe if she was there, she could stop whatever was beginning to grow between you and him. Just maybe, she thought, she'd find a way to keep you by her side, where you'd always belonged.

Her mind spun, the smile on her face frozen, all she could focus on was the sinking realization that she might actually lose you.

Until now, she'd convinced herself that her feelings for you were something she could handle, something she'd eventually learn to live with. But now, with Brian's name hanging between you, that quiet acceptance shattered.

She could see the way this might unfold, each painful step already clear in her mind.

She'd watched enough romance movies to know how these things went, and as much as she wanted to push the thoughts away, they crept in, vivid and unrelenting.

First, you'd go to the party together, and maybe he'd make you laugh so much that you'd find yourself leaning in, your hand brushing his.

She could already picture the two of you on future dates—sharing secrets over a quiet dinner or standing too close on some sidewalk, your face lit up in a way that made her stomach twist with envy.

And worse, she could imagine what might happen after those dates, how one day soon he'd reach for your hand, and you wouldn't hesitate to hold his back.

She didn't want to picture it, but the thought seeped into her mind anyway, filling her with a fierce, unfamiliar ache.

The image of you wrapped up in his arms, whispering into his ear, or—even worse—laughing with that same joy you always shared with her, but this time meant for him, made her chest feel hollow.

The thought kept spiraling, her mind betraying her with scenes she couldn't bear to picture.

You, with Brian, alone, closer than she'd ever be, maybe even leaning in for a kiss.

She imagined his hand brushing your cheek, the two of you getting so lost in each other that you forgot everyone else around you—including her.

The jealousy was sharp, hotter than anything she'd felt before.

She hated the way it took over, the way it made her feel small and powerless, like she was losing something that had never even been hers to begin with.

And then, a terrible, aching thought hit her: she might never get to be close to you in that way.

She might never get to be the person who held you, who kissed you, who made you laugh like that.

It wasn't just about watching you fall for someone else—it was the crushing realization that you might never look at her the way you looked at him.

Maybe it would be better if she came along?

The idea took a root in Tara's mind, an unexpected, half-formed plan that both excited and unsettled her.

If she went to the party with you and Brian, it might give her a chance to keep things from moving forward between you two.

She could play it off as tagging along to "keep an eye" on you, to make sure you had fun—and stay close enough to step in if Brian tried anything. It was risky, maybe even a little desperate, but what choice did she have?

At least if she was there, she'd know exactly what was happening. She wouldn't have to lie awake later, imagining him whispering things in your ear, pulling you close, stealing the attention she wanted only for herself.

She could keep you safe from all that, and maybe, if she was careful enough, find subtle ways to draw your attention back to her, where it belonged.

In her mind, it sounded almost justified. A "protective friend" sticking close to make sure you were all right. But the truth simmered beneath that excuse—she knew this was more than friendship, that she wanted to keep you to herself in ways you might never understand.

If Brian was going to try to win you over, he'd have to do it with her there, watching his every move, ready to swoop in the second things started looking too cozy.

And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to make sure that night ended with you still hers—still looking at her with that easy, trusting smile that had always been her anchor.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it, the chance to stay close to you a little longer, to stave off the reality she dreaded.

If you didn't have the chance to fall for him—if she could prevent that—maybe she'd finally have the time and courage to make you see her the way she saw you.

You nudged her lightly, snapping Tara out of her thoughts, leaning in with that familiar, hopeful smile that always made it so hard to say no to you. "Come on, Tara. It'll be fun—just this once. Please?"

Tara's chest tightened at the way you looked at her, like her answer actually mattered to you. It made something inside her ache, the way your face lit up with excitement, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind.

She should've said no. She wanted to say no.

But the thought of watching you leave without her—without knowing what might happen between you and Brian—made her stomach twist painfully.

And now, thanks to the idea she'd let herself entertain earlier, the thought of staying home didn't feel like an option anymore.

That plan, desperate and reckless as it was, had already taken root, and no matter how much a small part of her whispered it wasn't right, she couldn't let it go.

What if she stayed behind and missed her chance to stop something from blossoming between the two of you? What if she sat in her room, alone, while you fell for him right in front of everyone? The mere idea made her skin crawl.

But going wasn't any better. If she went, she'd have to watch you fawn over him, maybe even see you with him. And that thought was enough to make her want to bolt from the room. Yet here you were, looking at her like her presence actually mattered.

But why? Did you think she needed convincing, or was there some part of you that truly wanted her by your side? Her stomach churned at the thought.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep her expression neutral. If she said no, you'd go without her, and that stung more than she wanted to admit. But if she said yes...

Her mind spun with the possibilities. She didn't even know what she'd do if she went—how far she was willing to take this twisted plan of hers. But what she did know, with a growing certainty, was that she couldn't stay behind. Not when the thought of Brian pulling you closer was enough to make her chest burn with jealousy.

Your face shifted slightly, your brows knitting together when she didn't answer right away.

"Tara," you pressed gently, your voice dipping into that teasing tone you always used when you were trying to coax her into something. "Come on," you pressed again, your grin widening when she hesitated. "You have to come. It won't be the same without you."

It won't be the same without you.

Those words sealed it, though not in the way you meant them to. Something twisted and desperate bloomed in her chest, making her pulse quicken.

You didn't even realize it, but you were giving her exactly what she wanted: a reason to stay close. A reason to be where she could see you—and control what happened between you and Brian.

"Fine," she said at last, forcing a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But don't complain when I tell you it sucks."

The way your entire face lit up at her answer sent an ache through her chest. Her stomach fluttered against her will, a mix of longing and guilt tangling together in a way that made it hard to breathe. She hated how much it affected her, how happy you seemed just because she'd agreed to go.

She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on something across the room, anything to avoid the way your joy sent another wave of guilt and longing through her.

She knew it wasn't right—none of this was. But she couldn't let it go. Not when her plan had already started to take shape. Not when the thought of Brian having you was enough to make her reckless.

Because no matter how hard she tried to tell herself this was just a party, just a stupid night out, deep down, she knew she wasn't going for the music or the fun.

She was going because if Brian thought he was going to win you over tonight, he was dead wrong.

___

"What about this one?"

Tara looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of your bed, her gaze drawn to the shimmering fabric you held up against yourself. It was a short, fitted dress, one you'd clearly been saving for a moment like this.

The way Tara sat there, watching you flit around the room, sifting through piles of clothes you'd pulled from your closet.

It reminded her of when you were younger, back when the two of you would raid your moms' closets, parading around in oversized heels and dresses that pooled around your feet. You'd giggle uncontrollably, striking exaggerated poses in front of the mirror.

But this wasn't dress-up anymore.

Now, the clothes were your own—real, grown-up outfits that fit you perfectly, accentuating curves and edges Tara wasn't sure she was supposed to notice. It wasn't just playtime; this was your life now. And tonight, you weren't dressing up for laughs or pretend tea parties.

You were dressing up for him.

Her eyes flickered briefly over the dress before settling on your face. You were beaming, the excitement practically radiating off you as you turned to the mirror, holding the dress against your body.

She should've said something. A simple "looks great" or even a teasing "a bit much, don't you think?" would've worked, but the words caught in her throat.

It wasn't the dress—it was the way your whole body hummed with energy, the way your smile was just a little too wide, your movements a little too quick. Tara saw it all, and it was like watching you wear your feelings on your sleeve.

The way you twirled the dress in front of the mirror, the way your hands moved restlessly as you smoothed down imaginary creases—it was all too familiar. She knew exactly what you were feeling, even if you didn't say it out loud.

Did Brian? She doubted it.

He didn't know the little things, like how your voice got higher when you were nervous or how you couldn't stand still when you were excited. He didn't know the way your lips pressed together when you were thinking too hard about something or the way your shoulders tensed when you wanted something to go perfectly.

He didn't know you, not like she did.

"What do you think?" you asked again, snapping her out of her thoughts. You turned, holding the dress out at arm's length, giving her a better look. "Too much? Not enough?"

Tara forced a smile, her heart twisting as she watched you. "I think it's... nice," she said carefully, her voice steady even as her stomach churned.

Nice. The word felt like a betrayal. It didn't come close to how she really felt—how beautiful you looked, how much she wished those bright eyes were sparkling for her instead of someone else.

"You think Brian'll like it?" you asked, your tone innocent, but the question struck Tara like a punch.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter. She wanted to tell you Brian didn't deserve you, that he wouldn't know how to appreciate all the little things that made you you. But instead, she kept her tone casual, masking the storm inside her.

"I mean... yeah," she said after a pause. "It's hard not to like you in anything."

Your grin widened, lighting up the room in a way that made her stomach flutter. You didn't notice the tightness in her smile, the way her eyes lingered on you for just a second too long.

"You're the best." you said, turning back to the mirror.

Tara's chest tightened, a quiet ache settling beneath her ribs. She glanced away, forcing a small smile as she leaned back on her hands.

She let her fingers dug slightly into the comforter as she watched you move across the room again, this time heading toward your closet. You sifted through the hangers with an almost frantic energy, pulling out one piece of clothing after another until something caught your eye.

"This," you announced, holding up a sleek black skirt and a tiny top with delicate lace accents.

Tara blinked, her focus shifting from the faint hum of her own thoughts to the outfit in your hands. The skirt was just short enough to grab attention, and the top would clung to the curves in all the right places—your curves, she couldn't help but think.

Her stomach twisted again, but not with the same bitterness from earlier. No, this was something else entirely. She couldn't stop herself from picturing you in it, couldn't stop the way her mind immediately conjured the image of you standing there, all done up, looking effortlessly hot and completely out of her reach.

She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away. "You're not wearing the dress?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Oh, I am," you replied with a grin, holding the outfit closer to her. "This is for you!"

Tara froze. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, her chest tightening as your words sank in.

She had been so caught up in watching you, so wrapped up in her own spiral of emotions, that she had momentarily forgotten she was actually going to this party.

"Me?" she echoed, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to act like the idea of dressing up didn't make her stomach drop.

You laughed softly, stepping closer to hold the outfit up against her frame. "Yeah, you! Come on, Tara, you can't just wear that." You half-pointed to her attire.

Tara's eyes darted to the mirror, catching a glimpse of herself in her usual hoodie and jeans.

She had planned on blending into the background tonight, just another shadow in the corner, but now you were holding out a version of herself she wasn't sure she wanted to confront.

"It's... a little much, don't you think?" she murmured, her fingers brushing over the fabric.

"Not at all," you said, undeterred. "Trust me, you'll look amazing.

The way you looked at her, so excited, so hopeful, made it impossible for her to argue. The truth was, she didn't want to blend into the background—not really. Not if it meant letting Brian win.

"Alright," she said finally, forcing a small smirk as she reached for the outfit.

You grinned, clearly thrilled, and the sight sent her heart fluttering all over again.

As she stood up to take the clothes in you, the weight of the night ahead settled on her shoulders again. She knew this wasn't about the clothes or the party. It was about you—about keeping you close, about holding onto the part of you that still felt like hers, even if it wasn't.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Tara pulled the clothes from your hands, her fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary before she turned away.

She hesitated only briefly, her eyes darting to the bathroom door, but then she decided against it. It wasn't like this was anything new. You'd seen her change plenty of times before.

Slipping off her hoodie, she pulled the top over her head, the soft lace brushing against her skin in a way that felt oddly delicate, almost foreign.

The skirt followed, the fabric snug around her waist and flaring slightly at her hips. When she finally turned back toward you, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It was strange. She didn't recognize the girl staring back at her right away—not entirely. The clothes fit her so well, so effortlessly, that she felt a flicker of something unexpected: pride.

She looked... pretty. Not in the same way you did, with your radiant energy that drew everyone in, but still. Pretty enough.

Her heart jumped a little at the thought of you seeing her like this, of you noticing her in the way she always noticed you. She didn't know why she wanted that so badly, but the hope curled tightly in her chest, warm and persistent.

You looked up from where you'd been smoothing out your own dress, and your reaction was immediate. Your eyes widened slightly, and then your face lit up in that effortless way that always made her stomach flutter.

"Tara, oh my god, you look so good," you said, your voice soft but genuine, carrying none of the over-the-top excitement you sometimes used when joking around. This was real.

Tara felt her cheeks warm under your gaze, her fingers automatically reaching to adjust the hem of the skirt, as if she could somehow shield herself from the weight of your words. She tried to play it off, shrugging casually. "It's just a skirt," she mumbled, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

"It's not just a skirt," you countered, stepping closer. "You look amazing. Seriously, this is perfect for you."

Your words were kind, almost too kind, and Tara wasn't sure how to process them. There was no teasing, no playful edge, just an earnestness that made her chest feel tight and achy.

She glanced away, pretending to focus on her reflection again, but the warmth of your approval lingered, sinking into her skin like the lace of the top.

She wanted to feel good about it, to let herself bask in the way you saw her, but the nagging thought that this wasn't for her—that it was all part of your excitement for Brian—kept her grounded.

Still, the way you smiled at her, so unreserved and so entirely you, made her feel something she hadn't in a long time: seen. She wished, just for a second, that you were saying all of this for the same reason she wished you would.

You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over the pile of discarded clothes strewn across the floor in your excitement. Tara's breath caught for a second, her hand twitching instinctively like she was about to reach for you, but you caught yourself, laughing it off as if nothing had happened.

"You need to clean your room before someone gets hurt," Tara muttered, though her tone held more amusement than annoyance.

You ignored her, too caught up in the moment as you reached your makeup table, rifling through your collection with a kind of chaotic precision.

Pulling out a palette, you held it up, the colors catching the light as you grinned at her. "What do you think? Want me to do your makeup?"

Your voice was so full of unfiltered excitement, your smile so wide it made her stomach flip. Tara hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt as she glanced at the palette in your hands. She wasn't really the makeup type—not like you were—but the way you looked at her, like you were just waiting to make her feel special, made it impossible to say no.

"You don't have to," Tara said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I want to!" you insisted, stepping closer, the palette still in hand. "Please, Tara? I promise I'll keep it simple. Just a little something to go with the outfit."

She sighed, feigning reluctance as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Fine."

You grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her, gesturing for her to sit. "Alright, let's make you even more stunning."

Tara rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she leaned forward.

___

The buzz of the party hit you as soon as you stepped through the door.

Music pulsed through the house, the bass vibrating in your chest as voices overlapped in a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings.

People crowded the space—groups gathered near the kitchen, couples pressed close against walls, and a few brave souls danced in the living room, already letting loose despite how early it was in the night.

You glanced over at Tara, catching the way her shoulders stiffened slightly as the noise and energy enveloped her. She'd been quiet on the drive over, her fingers drumming against her thigh in a way that let you know her nerves were kicking in. But she'd never admit that, not to you.

"See?" you said brightly, bumping her shoulder with yours as you stepped further into the house. "I told you this would be fun."

Tara gave you a look, one that was half-skepticism and half-amusement, as she tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

Your laugh was warm and easy, a sound that somehow made the chaos of the party seem less overwhelming. You reached back to grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd as you made your way toward the kitchen. The feel of your fingers around hers made something in Tara's chest twist uncomfortably, though she forced herself to ignore it.

The kitchen was just as packed as the rest of the house, but you managed to snag two drinks from the counter, handing one to her with a grin. "Alright, party rule number one: stay hydrated."

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cup in her hand. "This is definitely not water."

"Details." You waved her off, your playful smirk making her stomach flutter in that maddeningly familiar way.

Before she could respond, a voice called out from across the room. "Y/N! There you are!"

Tara's grip on her cup tightened as she followed your gaze, her stomach sinking when she saw him—Brian—making his way toward you. His smile was wide and easy, the kind of grin that would make anyone else swoon.

But Tara wasn't anyone else.

"Brian!" you said, your face lighting up in a way that made Tara's chest ache. She stepped back slightly, letting go of your hand as he drew closer, though her eyes never left you.

He didn't deserve that smile.

Brian's gaze flickered to her briefly, his smile faltering just a bit. "Tara, right?"

She nodded, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her drink. "That's me."

If he noticed the edge in her tone, he didn't comment on it, turning his attention back to you instead. "You look amazing," he said, his eyes raking over your dress in a way that made Tara's jaw tighten.

You beamed at him, clearly pleased by the compliment, and Tara had to look away, her hand gripping her cup so tightly she was surprised it didn't crack.

This was going to be a long night.

And it most definitely was.

As the night went on, the party only grew louder and more chaotic. People drifted in and out of the circle you, Tara, and Brian had settled into, friends of his joining the conversation with easy smiles and casual jokes.

You made a genuine effort to include Tara, always pulling her back in when she started to fade into the background, but it was clear who held your focus.

Brian.

He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to talk over the music.

You didn't seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you didn't mind. Either way, the proximity between you two only seemed to grow as the minutes ticked by, and Tara couldn't stop watching.

Every time you laughed at something he said, her chest tightened just a little more.

You weren't doing it on purpose. Tara knew that. She knew you didn't notice the way her jaw clenched or how her fingers drummed against her cup.

You were just being you—kind, bubbly, and effortlessly charming. But watching you with Brian, seeing how much of your attention he was soaking up, felt like a slow, relentless sting.

She hadn't expected it to bother her this much.

At first, Tara tried to play along, chiming in when she could and taking small sips of her drink to distract herself.

But then Brian's friends started joining the conversation, their loud energy making it harder for her to keep up. You were still trying to include her, turning to her every so often to ask her opinion or flash her one of your brilliant smiles, but it wasn't enough.

Not when you lit up like a damn firework every time Brian said something that made you laugh.

Tara tipped back her cup, finishing it quicker than she probably should have. She wasn't much of a drinker to begin with—she never really liked how it made her feel—but tonight was different. Tonight, she needed the edge taken off.

"Want another?" you asked, noticing her empty cup.

She hesitated, but before she could respond, Brian offered. "I'll grab her one. Be right back."

She opened her mouth to say she didn't need another, but he was already walking away.

You smiled after him before turning back to Tara, your expression so full of effortless warmth it made her stomach churn. "You having fun?"

She forced a small nod, her grip tightening on the plastic cup. "Yeah. It's... fine."

You didn't notice the strain in her voice, too caught up in the energy of the party to catch on.

By the time Brian returned with her drink, she'd already decided she wasn't going to overthink it. She took it with a quiet "thanks" and drank just enough to feel the buzz set in. It wasn't much—maybe two drinks total—but Tara was short, and she always felt the effects quicker than most.

The alcohol didn't drown out her frustration, though.

Every laugh you gave Brian, every time you leaned in to whisper something to him, only seemed to magnify it.

And you? You were oblivious. Still trying to keep her in the conversation, pulling her in with the same ease you always had. But she could feel the gap widening.

Tara's foot tapped against the floor as she shifted her weight, her eyes flickering between you and Brian. She should've left, should've wandered off to another part of the house to escape this torturous little triangle, but she stayed.

Because if she left, she'd have to admit to herself why she couldn't handle this.

So instead, she took another sip of her drink and plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said quickly, her words sharper than she intended. "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. And as the night wore on, that became harder and harder to hide.

And after an hour, or maybe even more.

The alcohol was definitely working its way through Tara's veins. She could feel it, the familiar warmth spreading through her chest, making her limbs feel looser but her thoughts louder.

The edges of the room blurred ever so slightly, but her focus on you was sharp as ever, almost painfully so.

You were giggling at something Brian said again, your hand brushing his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tara had been watching you both like a hawk all night, trying to play it cool, but the subtle touches, the shared smiles, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him—it was getting under her skin.

She clenched her jaw, tipping back the rest of her drink as if it might drown out the frustration bubbling inside her. But it didn't.

It wasn't just the alcohol making her feel reckless, though it didn't help. Tara was desperate.

Desperate to do something—anything—that might shift the balance back in her favor. But how? She wasn't like Brian. She didn't have easy jokes or effortless charm. And she wasn't like you, all soft laughter and open smiles.

So she sat there, stewing in her own silence, searching for an opening she couldn't find.

Then she turned her head for just a moment.

A distraction—a loud burst of laughter from somewhere across the room. She glanced over, barely processing the source, and when she looked back...

Her heart stopped.

You and Brian were kissing.

It wasn't shy or hesitant. It was full and unguarded, like something out of the movies. His hands rested lightly on your waist, your fingers clutching the front of his shirt as though you were afraid to let go.

Tara's first thought wasn't sadness. It wasn't heartbreak or even surprise.

It was rage.

Her body went rigid, the plastic cup in her hand creaking under the force of her grip.

Because of course this wasn't a problem.

Why would it be?

You weren't hers. You'd never been hers. You were allowed to kiss boys, especially the boy you'd been crushing on for as long as she could remember. It wasn't like you were breaking some unspoken rule. She had no claim to you, no right to feel betrayed or blindsided.

But God, it felt like a betrayal.

Her rational mind tried to reason with her, repeating the same useless mantra: This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem.

But the other side of her mind—the side that had been clawing its way to the surface all night—was screaming the opposite.

It was a problem. A huge one.

The anger burned through her like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought as it spread. It started in her chest, hot and heavy, before curling into her throat and setting her teeth on edge. Her nails dug into the soft plastic of her cup until it crumpled under her grip, a sharp crack breaking through the buzz of the party.

And still, she couldn't look away.

She hated it. Hated the way his hands touched you so easily, like he'd earned that right. Hated the way you kissed him back like you'd been waiting for this your whole life. Hated how he got to have what she wanted so desperately without even knowing how much it mattered.

Her breaths came quicker, each one catching in her chest as if she couldn't quite fill her lungs. The alcohol amplified everything, stripping her bare of the filters she usually relied on. Every raw, unspoken feeling she'd buried for years was rising to the surface now, and there was no stopping it.

She wanted to scream.

To grab you and pull you away, to tell Brian to get his hands off you, to do something.

But she didn't.

Because no matter how angry she was, no matter how much she hated what she was seeing, there was a part of her—a small, quiet, agonizing part—that whispered:

You're not supposed to feel like this.

So instead, Tara sat there, her body tense and trembling, her nails biting into the palms of her hands. She didn't even realize she'd crumpled her cup until the sticky remnants of her drink dripped onto her lap.

And still, she couldn't look away.

Eventually you pulled back from Brian, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol coursing through your system.

A small, almost dazed laugh escaped your lips as you glanced at him, then turned to find Tara in the crowd. She hadn't moved from where she'd been watching, her posture stiff and her eyes fixed on some indistinct point on the wall—anywhere but you.

When your gaze landed on her, your smile widened, bright and unrestrained, like you hadn't just set her entire world on fire.

Tara's chest tightened, the molten frustration inside her bubbling hotter with every passing second. She couldn't stop her thoughts, couldn't silence the storm brewing in her mind.

You stumbled a little as you reached her, still grinning like a fool, your energy infectious to everyone but Tara. You leaned close, tipping forward on your toes, your voice loud but slurred enough to betray your tipsy state.

"I think he kissed me," you said, as if it hadn't been entirely mutual.

Tara felt something snap.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms so hard she half-expected to draw blood.

She couldn't speak, couldn't trust herself to even try. If she opened her mouth, she was sure she'd yell or say something she couldn't take back. Worse, she might cry—and that wasn't an option.

Her silence stretched on, but you didn't seem to notice. You were too lost in your own world, your thoughts spinning with the buzz of the alcohol and the remnants of Brian's touch. Tara's silence didn't matter, because you filled the space with another easy laugh, leaning closer so she could hear you over the pounding music.

"I need to use the bathroom," you said, your lips brushing near her ear. The warmth of your breath made her stomach twist. "Wanna come?"

Tara's mind scrambled for an excuse, her mouth dry as she fought the urge to say something reckless.

"No," she said finally, forcing her voice to sound casual, detached. "I think I'm good down here."

It wasn't true. She wasn't good down here, or anywhere else in the universe at that moment.

You gave her a light shrug, your expression still full of that easy joy that made her want to scream. "Okay! Be right back!"

You disappeared into the crowd, weaving your way toward the bathroom, leaving Tara standing there alone.

The second you were out of sight, she exhaled sharply, her hands shaking as she reached for another drink she didn't need.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the anger, or the ache of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. Maybe it was all three, swirling into something she couldn't control.

But one thing was clear—she couldn't keep this up. Not tonight. Not with you and Brian. Not with her chest full of feelings she couldn't name and didn't want to face.

Tara's eyes burned as they landed on Brian, standing not far from where you'd left him. His posture was easy, relaxed—too relaxed.

He stood there like nothing had happened, chatting casually with a couple of his friends, his hand lifting a red cup to his lips like this was just another night. Like he hadn't just kissed you.

The most beautiful girl on the planet.

Tara felt her stomach twist painfully, her grip tightening around the drink in her hand. How could he be so unbothered? So unaffected? He wasn't grinning ear to ear, wasn't puffing out his chest or gushing about how lucky he was.

He wasn't laughing with joy or smirking proudly like any sane person would if they'd just kissed you.

How was he not telling everyone in earshot about what had happened? How was he not reeling from the fact that you—you, with your blinding smile and endless energy—had given him even a second of your time, let alone your lips?

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she stared at him, her anger bubbling hotter with every second he stayed calm. Her hands itched to grab him by the collar, to shake him and demand he act like he understood the weight of what had just happened.

Did he even realize how lucky he was?

Did he know how many people in that room—how many people in general—would kill to be in his place? To have even the tiniest fraction of your attention, let alone that?

Her vision blurred, and it wasn't from the alcohol. Her chest felt like it was about to implode, like something inside her was trying desperately to escape, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it together.

Brian's laughter snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. He was laughing at something one of his friends said, his expression light, carefree—unbothered.

Tara nearly saw red.

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, the sharp burn doing nothing to dull the fury roaring in her chest. How could he be like this? How could he act so normal, so indifferent, after kissing you?

How could he not be overwhelmed by the fact that you'd chosen him, even for a fleeting moment?

It was insulting. Infuriating.

She wanted to march over there, to grab him and make him feel the way she was feeling. She wanted him to hurt, to ache, to boil with jealousy the way she was.

But she couldn't.

Because none of this was his fault.

The real issue—the one she didn't want to admit—wasn't Brian. It was the simple, heartbreaking truth that he could kiss you without consequence.

He could have you.

Tara wasn't sure what happened next.

What she was thinking when it happened, or if she was even thinking at all. Maybe it was the anger—burning hot and uncontrollable—making her body move before her brain could catch up. Or maybe it was the alcohol, buzzing in her veins and drowning out every voice in her head that might've told her to stop.

All she knew was that one second she was standing there, glaring at Brian like he'd committed some unforgivable sin, and the next, she was storming toward him.

His friends noticed her first, their chatter faltering as they shifted awkwardly under her sharp glare. But Brian, oblivious as ever, didn't see her coming. He was mid-sentence, that stupidly calm look still plastered on his face, when Tara grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

The movement was forceful enough to knock the air out of both of them, and before he could even process what was happening—before she could process what was happening—she pressed her lips against his.

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't sweet.

It was messy, rough, and fueled by a cocktail of rage and desperation. Her hands fisted his shirt tightly, holding him in place, her nails biting into the fabric. Brian stiffened for a second, shocked, but then his hands hovered awkwardly near her waist, unsure of what to do.

Tara didn't care. She didn't care about his reaction, about his hesitation.

Because this wasn't about him.

It wasn't about his stupid, clueless face or the fact that he'd kissed you without giving it a second thought. It wasn't about him being unbothered or unaffected.

This was about her.

Her anger, her frustration, her absolute inability to sit there for another second and watch him act like kissing you was nothing.

The kiss deepened as her grip on his shirt tightened, pulling him even closer. She wanted to erase the memory of you from his lips, to replace it with her own. To make him feel something, anything, the way she was feeling.

But it wasn't working.

If anything, the kiss only made it worse.

Because no matter how hard she pressed, no matter how desperate her movements were, it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel like you.

And that thought was like a punch to the gut.

Brian made a soft, surprised noise against her lips, his hands finally settling on her hips, but it only made her angrier. How dare he hesitate now? How dare he act so unsure, like he didn't know exactly what he wanted when he'd so easily taken you from her just minutes ago?

Her chest heaved as she pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against his, her heart pounding in her ears.

His wide eyes stared at her, confused and more than a little alarmed. "Tara—" his voice laced with bewilderment, but she silenced him with another kiss, pressing harder, needing to cut him off.

She didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want to hear him try to make sense of this, because she didn't have an explanation. This wasn't about him.

It wasn't about you either—not entirely, at least.

It was about her. About the way she felt like she was unraveling, about how every smile you gave Brian felt like another thread being yanked loose, every laugh you shared with him felt like a blow to the chest.

She didn't know how to make it stop, and the only thing her mind could come up with was this. She didn't have to think when she was kissing Brian. Didn't have to feel the jagged ache of watching you be so happy with someone else.

This wasn't about him.

But it was all she could do to stop herself from falling apart completely.

And Tara wasn't sure what was happening anymore.

Brian hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't stopped her, hadn't hesitated for even a moment after that first surprised noise.

No, he'd leaned into it. He'd kissed her back with the kind of intent that only made her angrier, made the fire in her chest blaze so hot she thought she might combust right there.

Because it wasn't supposed to go like this.

His hands slid from her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her tighter against him, and she hated it. Hated the way he responded like this was exactly what he wanted, hated the way he kissed her back like she wasn't just a replacement for you.

And worse than anything, she hated herself for not stopping it.

His hands moved lower, gripping her ass, pulling her even closer, and she felt herself clench her fists tighter into the fabric of his shirt.

She didn't know if it was the alcohol buzzing in her veins, numbing her better judgment, or if it was the anger still consuming her every thought, but she didn't do anything to stop him.

She should've.

But she didn't.

Because in this moment, it wasn't about him. It wasn't even about you. It was about the chaos she felt boiling in her chest, about the way she felt like she was spiraling further and further out of control.

Brian murmured something against her lips—she didn't catch it, didn't even try to—but his hands stayed firm on her, guiding her, pulling her toward the stairs.

And she let him.

Every step felt like she was wading through quicksand, her mind shouting at her to stop, to push him away, to pull herself together. But her body wasn't listening. She didn't know if it was the heat of his hands on her or the fog of alcohol clouding her better judgment, but she let him lead her.

Because stopping meant facing the truth. And Tara wasn't ready to do that.

Not yet.

She'd barely registered how they ended up in the room. One second, she was being pulled up the stairs, Brian's hand gripping hers tightly, and the next, they were in a dimly lit bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her heart was racing, but not from excitement. There was no thrill, no anticipation, just a gnawing sense of wrongness she couldn't shake. Yet she didn't stop it. She didn't stop him as his hands found her waist, as his lips trailed down her neck. She didn't stop herself from responding, from letting this spiral further than it ever should have.

It was mechanical, empty, and every moment felt like it was happening to someone else. Brian's touch wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't what she wanted. His lips weren't the ones she craved, his hands didn't spark anything but an aching hollowness inside her.

And yet, she let it happen.

Because, for a fleeting second, it felt like power. Like control. Like maybe, just maybe, if she could take this from him—take you from him in some twisted, nonsensical way—it would hurt less.

But it didn't.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word she barely heard, only drove the knife deeper into her chest.

When it was over, the silence was deafening. Tara lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body still and her mind racing. Brian shifted beside her, saying something she didn't hear, and the sound of his voice made her stomach twist. She felt nauseous, disgusted—not with him, but with herself.

What had she done?

Her chest tightened as she fought to keep her breathing steady, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over. It hadn't helped. It hadn't made anything better. If anything, it had only made everything worse.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how far she went, it would never be enough to make her stop wanting you.

Afterwards Tara laid still, the dim light of the room casting shadows that felt too heavy, too oppressive.

Brian was beside her, breathing evening out as if nothing monumental had just happened. As if this was just another casual moment in his life.

Her mind, however, wouldn't stop.

It wasn't Brian she was thinking about—not the way he'd touched her, not the way he'd looked at her. No, every thought clawed its way back to you.

She pictured you in the bathroom, probably still staring at yourself in the mirror, giddy and flushed. She could almost see your smile, so wide it was infectious, and the way you'd probably tilt your head, trying to relive every second of that kiss.

You'd been dreaming of that moment since second grade, scribbling his name in the margins of your notebooks and lighting up every time he was near. Tara could already imagine how you'd be practically glowing, heart racing with excitement as you ran your fingers over your lips, trying to make the feeling last.

She wanted to hate you for it. But she couldn't. She never could.

You'd come out of that bathroom with a smile so bright it could light up the whole house, your hopeful eyes scanning the crowd as you made your way back to the spot you'd all been standing. And what would you find?

Nothing.

Tara wasn't there. Brian wasn't there.

She could imagine how your smile would falter, confusion settling in as you looked around, searching for the two people who were supposed to be waiting for you. How long would it take for the excitement to drain from your face? How quickly would hope turn to disappointment?

The thought was like a knife twisting in her gut.

And yet, she still couldn't make sense of why she'd done this. Why she'd let it happen. Because it didn't feel like she'd won anything. She hadn't taken Brian away from you. If anything, she'd stolen something from herself—something she could never get back.

Her chest tightened as the realization hit her like a freight train. She hadn't wanted him. She hadn't wanted this.

She'd wanted you.

And now she'd ruined everything.

#jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #ask #sam carpenter x reader

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finelinevogue · 3 days ago

Text

teenage fantasy

summary - you & harry dress up as each other’s teenage fantasy’s

word count - >500

pairing - new-boyfriend!harry x reader

✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨🌅✨

“Y/N, love, Gem’s here!”

You heard Harry shout from the hallway where he was on door duty for the first portion of the evening.

After licking your fingers clean of frosting and rinsing them off with water, you made your way out of the kitchen to greet your guests.

“Hello!” You excitedly said upon seeing Gemma and Michal. “Look at you two! Edward and Bella is a classic.”

“Yeah, but you and Harry have already won the competition for best Halloween costume. I mean… Who’s going to beat Anakin Skywalker and Padme?”

After hugging Gemma and greeting Michal, Harry pulled you into his side. The lightsaber hanging by his side hitting your leg as he held you close.

“Harry wanted to do a couple’s costume.” You stood talking in the hall.

“Well, it is my first time being able to do a couple’s Halloween costume babe.” He smiled down at you, happy that it was you looking back up at him in this moment.

“The first of many.” You replied softly.

“Okay alright. I need a drink before I have to deal with you two being so in love.” Gemma laughed, walking her way to the kitchen and Michal following.

You were about to follow but Harry caught your waist, drawing you back into his chest with a giggle from you.

“What?” You asked acutely when Harry was just staring down at you with a soft smile.

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

You let out the most hideous giggle, driving your head against his chest to hide the way you reacted to his words. The way Harry made you feel was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. He made you feel safe, happy and free all at once.

“Me too.” You spoke against his chest.

You tilted your head back up, resting your chin against his chest to look up at him from a weird angle.

“Can your dress up as Padme more often?” He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Am I dressed up as some teenage fantasy of yours?”

“Well I know i’m dressed up as yours.” He spoke huskily as he leaned down to press his lips to yours.

Once he’d kissed you once, you wanted so much more. You reached your hands up ready to give him a deeper kiss that you deserved, only to be rudely interrupted.

“Harry, I know Y/N looks great an’ all, but can you please come open these bottles of wine. No clue where the opener is.” Gemma sticks her head around the door to ask her brother.

“It’s somewhere in the top drawer. Help yourself.” He waves her off and leans back down to kiss you, only for you to move back.

“Uh uh. We’re the hosts, mister. You can kiss me all you want later. For now, we host.” You patted Harry’s chest.

Harry groaned and followed unwillingly after you like a sulking baby.

“You’re too easy.” Gemma laughed at him as Harry walked past her. He nudged her gently and sulked off to go and open the bottles of wine.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles halloween

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fushiguruuzzzz · 1 day ago

Text

xiv ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Love and (Internal) War

Series mlist

Tags — possibly offensive humour, Megumi’s self hatred peeking through, oblivious idiot yn

Words — 1.2k

The soft knock echoed throughout your otherwise lifeless room, a reminder that the boy on your mind was more than just text bubbles on a screen. You let out a low sound of acknowledgment, sliding off of your plush bed. The floor felt cold beneath you, the wood pressing firmly against the soles of your feet.

You opened the door, the hinges creaking ever so quietly in the midst of the nights peace. It was late, very much so, but you were sure many of your neighbours were awake. That’s what students did, cramming everything into one short span of hours, usually at the most inconvenient times of night. By now, though, Megumi was usually asleep. It was something you often teased him for, referred to him as an old man. Truth be told, he just loved sleeping. There wasn’t much more to say. So why was he standing in your hallway looking like a lost dog?

“Hey,” you said, shuffling to the side as an indirect invitation for him to come in. He took it, though hesitantly, as if he hadn’t been the one to show up here in the first place. “What’s up? Are you okay?” you asked.

You gently pressed the door closed behind you, lingering in front of it, trying to gauge his mood. Your first instinct was to assume something had happened, something bad. Showing up at your dorm at 2 in the morning was a bold move for any average, semi-social person, let alone for Megumi. He shook his head, as if to shoot down any conclusions you’d jumped to.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. He shoved his hands into the pocket of the hoodie he’d haphazardly thrown on as he left his room, a snoring Yuji in the background. He spoke again, a mumble so quiet you’d think it hurt him to say. ��…and I wanted to see you.”

At this, the tension in your shoulders faded, the harsh lines taking up your face smoothing out. Instead it was replaced by a grin, and the hidden bashfulness that came with the way your heart sped up at his confession.

“What was that?” you smirked, tilting your head in feigned confusion.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he deadpanned. You let out a laugh, probably too high in volume for the hour.

“Yeah, sorry. I missed you too.”

Your shoulder gently brushed against his as you passed him, and the small touch sent too many sparks flying over his skin. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that he so desperately tried to avoid that longing, that feeling he only felt upon seeing your face, but somehow always found himself here. Well, not exactly here, but with you. No matter the place, he always found himself chasing you like you were all he needed. Like you were home. Maybe you were.

You plopped down on the bed, the covers rustling beneath you. You gave a discreet nod to the place beside you, noticing the way he stood near the door, barely moving. Did he have to be so mysterious all of the time? So guarded?

He sat by your side, looking ahead. Anyone could very easily tell something was bothering him, anyone that knew him well enough, at least. He was more tense than he usually was, his walls seeming higher than ever. Though with added height came the crushing weight on the body of them, leaving cracks and holes for hints of vulnerability to seep from.

“Megumi,” you whispered, a careful hand finding its home on his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

He was silent for a moment, avoiding your eyes as he contemplated whether he would be honest or not. His fingers twitched in his pockets, itching to move. They didn’t.

“How was your date?” he asked, though a bitter feeling resided in his mouth once he spoke. Was that too forward? Too obvious? Were you about to kick him out and push him away? In his mind, those four simple words were as close to any sort of confession he was ready to give. In the few months since the two of you were reunited, he’d felt his walls be slowly chipped away, no matter how hard he fought it. With you, he just couldn’t. It was inevitable, and he was beginning to feel like that same stupid boy he was all those years ago. Stupid stupid boy, falling for you. In his mind, you were the sun and he was simple one of billions of stars yearning for your light. He could never amount to who he wanted to be, to be what you deserved. Wait.. falling for you? Had he just admitted that to himself?

You paused. Was that what was wrong? Your date? You didn’t understand why such a thing would bother him, let alone enough for him to lose sleep and show up at your dorm in the earliest hours of the morning. “It was nice… he’s nice. Why? Do you not like him?”

He stole a quick glance at you, softly shaking his head. “I’m not exactly fond of him, no.”

“Oh?” you said, tilting your head softly to the side. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” he said, shrugging. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about him.” He let out a soft sigh, mindlessly grabbing a book off of your nightstand. He was all too aware of your hand on his shoulder, how close you were sitting to him, and it felt wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He didn’t deserve it.

“Mm,” he said, examining the cover. He felt an odd need to make conversation, which made him sure he was losing it. When was he ever one to speak when not necessary? Who even was he? You took notice of this, knowing that he must’ve just been distracting himself from whatever deeper level of the situation was nagging at him. “You have good taste in books,” he said.

For some reason, the compliment sounded much better coming from him than it did from Noritoshi. You summed it up to the fact that Megumi was more familiar, which wasn’t completely a lie, but… you knew better than that.

You spent the next couple of hours talking about everything and nothing in between comfortable silences and shared looks. Whether it was literature, your classes, your friends, hell, you even talked about politics, it was all so comfortable with him. Things felt as if they were meant to be that way. And then, before you knew it, the two of you were slumped against eachother, halfway lying down as you slept in each others arms. He’d mindlessly held you in his sleep, something that came to him subconsciously, as if embracing you was muscle memory. You hadn’t protested, even as you stirred and occasionally gained some of your consciousness. It was just one night, wasn’t it? At least he was sleeping at all. You were just comforting him, that was all.

Neither of you would voice it, but it was the best you’d slept in a long time.

Taglist !¡ —

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry

sighhh I love them lwk been distracted from bttoh tho been nurturing the farmhand yuji fic a lil too much… nb gonna read ts are they cries anyway ermmmm can you guys not kill me or yourselves after the coming chapters release pretty please… with a cherry on top…

#jjk megumi #jjk #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smau #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x reader

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 3 days ago

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THIS BLOG IS 😍🫣😊😳

can we please get James (modern or 10s) x younger reader? They are arguing and she goes “don’t tell me what to do you’re not my father” and he goes “I’m not your father, but I’m your daddy” and completely breaks her in bed??? Like she came so many times last night that in the morning she can’t feel her legs and her whole body aches and he brings her coffee to bed and asking if she learned how to behave???

I’m such a whore for him 🤤🫣😳

Warnings: smut, use of toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, angst, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

All you wanted was to go on a little trip with some of your friends, James asked if he could go and you said no because it was supposed to just be you and your friends.

After that he got all upset over it, saying he wasn’t paying for shit. He liked paying for you, spoiling you, it didn’t often cross his mind that you made your own money and had some to set aside to pay for yourself.

He just wanted to be with you and didn’t see why it was such a big deal that he’d be coming along, your friends liked him well enough, didn’t they?

Sure, James was a few years -or decades- older than you, but you loved him and he loved you more than anything! Why wouldn’t they see that?

“Oh, they’d love it if I just paid for it though, huh?” He said, arms crossed over his chest as he sat on the couch, refusing to look at you and instead glaring bullet holes into the TV.

You groaned loudly, rolling your eyes. “No! They don’t want you to pay for anything! You can’t just buy people off!” He chewed his cheek at that remark. “They just want to spend time with me!”

“And they can’t do that with me there?” You threw a pillow at him, knocking him in the head and he finally turned to look at you.

“I don’t need you there because you’re not my fucking dad!” You could see something swirling in his eyes, something more than anger or frustration.

James stood up slowly and made his way over to you in a few determined strides. He pointed a finger to you, pushing on your chest as he towered over you. “I might not be your dad but you know damn well I’m your fucking daddy.” You swallowed thickly, already feeling yourself getting wet as his blue eyes bore into you.

He lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly, giving your ass a firm smack. You bit down on your lip, refusing to make a sound. The fight wasn’t over, just on pause -if that’s what James wanted.

As he carried you he pulled off your clothes, dragging your jeans down your thighs along with your panties so he had free access to your needy cunt, easily taking two of his fingers already. He wasn’t going easy on you, fingers moving faster, only pulling out to smack your ass every few seconds because you were squirming too much.

He tossed you onto the bed, mind already fuzzy and a knot already building in your gut. He stared down at you a moment, thinking about how to punish you.

“C’mere.” He said, patting the edge of the bed. You crawled down and flipped over onto your back, looking up at him eagerly.

He went to the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a massage wand. He smiled as he brought it over to you and used your pants to hold it up right against your clit, a makeshift torture device when he hit the button and it started whirring against your bundle of nerves.

You were a whining mess in minutes, James hovering over you, pinching and flicking your perky nipples. You couldn’t take it much longer, already feeling the knot coming undone, James just smiled down at you as you twitched and squirmed against the toy. “Jamie! Jamie, m’so close, I can’t-can’t-!”

“Can’t cum without daddy.” He finished for you. “you can have your vacation but you know it won’t be the same without me, sweetheart.” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as you came. He didn’t touch the toy, letting it continue and overstimulate you.

He got up and undid his jeans, pulling them down enough for his hard cock to hit you in the face. A wicked grin came to his face as he tapped your with his leaky tip, smearing pre-cum over your cheeks before pushing past your lips.

You gagged around him, borderline choking on his length as he thrusted mercilessly down your throat, groaning at the sensation. You could feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge again, tears brimming your eyes from it all.

You held the sheets in a death grip, struggling to stay still for him as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

The vibrator was starting to hurt, constant buzzing between your legs bringing more out of you, with every high they just came quicker and harder, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

James was still using your mouth like a fleshlight, not caring if you were crying or in pain. He saw the drool dribbling over your jaw, mixing with his pre. He was twitching down your throat, pulsing before he finally came with a few loud groans, his head falling back in ecstasy.

He pulled out of you. You coughed, a few sobs ripping from your throat. “Please!” You cried, voice hoarse, it hurt to say anything. “Make it stop, make it stop!” James smiled down at you, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Aw, my poor baby hurts?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Needs daddy to make her feel better?”

You nodded. “Please, daddy, please! It-it hurts, it hurts, daddy!” He moved to sit on the bed, finally turning the toy off and taking it away from you.

He helped you out of your clothes, they were sticking uncomfortably to your sweaty skin, body twitching, aching and shuddering at every feather light touch. James didn’t care, he had his plans and seeing how you were reacting to his gentleness in the moment only got him more excited for when he got to be rough again.

Your chest rose and fell hard, heaving as you continued to cry, unable to stop the sobs slipping past your lips. James got up and started taking off his own clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the pudge of his stomach, pudge he always seemed self-conscious of but you loved. You loved laying your head on his stomach, or grinding down on it like a pillow, but it was better because it was James guiding your hips, moving you farther down until you were riding his dick and throwing your head back.

He dropped his jeans completely along with his boxers and crawled back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around so your head was on the pillows and he was hovering over you again, pinning you down.

“How are you, darling?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you. “Feeling alright? S’not too much?” He was concerned for your well-being, but if he kept asking it would ruin the whole mood, he’d ask you sporadically to make sure you were still enjoying it, he’d listen if you told him to stop and he needed you to know that.

You sniffled and nodded. “M’good.” You said simply.

“Good.” He said, kissing you again. “Because you need to learn a lesson, don’t you?” He asked, not waiting for a response before he pushed into you, wasting no time as he pistoned his hips into yours just as he had done with your mouth.

Your moans and cries bounced off the walls, back arching as you came again, let’s shaking on either side of him. His words echoed through your mind as he grunted in your ears, nothing but degrading comments, “you dumb fucking slut, you fucking love this, don’t you? Love being used by daddy, love being fucked stupid, you’ve got nothing going through that thick fucking skull of yours, got nothing but daddy, huh?” And all you could do was agree.

The room was dark, curtains pulled over the windows to block the light from coming through. Everywhere was a dull ache and you couldn’t move your legs no matter how hard you tried, not that you were really trying.

You weren’t lying in yours and James’s bed, he carried you to a guest room because there was no way he was letting you sleep in that fill, sheets soaked and stained. He tossed them in the washer when he woke up but he didn’t think it would do much and already had a garbage bag ready for them, planning to get another set later that day.

The door creaked open and he came in with a tray of food, smiling when he saw you were awake. “Morning, darling, sleep good?” He asked as he sat down beside you, setting the tray on your lap after helping you to sit up.

You nodded, looking over the selection of a yogurt bowl, granola and fruits mixed in it, a cup of coffee just the way you like it on side, a banana cut up in a bowl drizzled with chocolate. “Slept good.” You said, voice raw.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and held you tighter to his side. “I’m glad, sweetheart, ‘cause that’s how I’m gonna get you to sleep every night until you leave.”

You looked up at him. “Jamie, you can’t do that, I won’t be able to move.”

He smiled proudly down at you. “Well, I suppose I could be more reasonable, if you let me come with you.” He leaned down closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I just want to fuck you in our hotel room, on the balcony, take you somewhere pretty off tour.”

It took a lot of convincing for your friends to let you bring him along, they didn’t like him and they didn’t like that he was this protective of you. They didn’t like how much older he was than you, they didn’t like anything about this situation and it was evident. Every day of your trip you were seeing more and more how your friends were pushing away from you, it hurt but James was there every night to comfort you.

He was ruining you, in a few ways, but he made it better. At least, he made it seem that way.

#metallica angst #metallica fluff #metallica x reader #metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica rp #metallica fanfiction #80s metal #metallica #james hetfield angst #james hetfield x you #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield

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trekacrosstheuniverse · 3 days ago

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Saavik in Unification is a BAD TAKE

This is going to be a loooooong post because I have a lot of feelings and a lot to say.

To begin with, I loved the film. It was so poetic, thought-provoking, and visually stunning. The ending, in particular, was profoundly moving—I honestly found myself crying in silence as the credits rolled. The handhold. That being said, I hated how the film handled the character of Saavik.

Saavik’s Characterization and Potential Saavik is one of the most compelling characters in Star Trek. Originally conceived as part of the “new generation” of the franchise, she represented a bridge between the old crew and the new. Saavik was envisioned as a bright, ambitious young officer with her own aspirations, including a desire for captaincy. She wasn’t just a supporting character; she was meant to embody the future of Starfleet—someone with the intelligence, skill, and determination to carry the series into a new era.

The decision to canonize a romantic or sexual relationship between Saavik and Spock diminishes her potential. It reduces her to a plot device— showing that when the audience last saw her on Vulcan in The Voyage Home (1986), she never left. She stayed there to raise his baby and be his wife. This choice feels not only out of place but also deeply unfair to her character and to fans who have admired her complexity and promise.

Saavik Deserves Better! Saavik was written as more than a “young love interest.” She was a character with depth, goals, and the potential to take the franchise in exciting new directions. Reducing her to a way for Spock to have a son undermines everything she stood for. Fans who admired her for her strength and intelligence deserve more, and so does Saavik herself!

The Problematic Nature of the Relationship The dynamic between Saavik and Spock is troubling for several reasons. Spock, as a significantly older and more experienced figure, served as her mentor and even, in many interpretations, a parental figure. Their relationship in The Search for Spock (1984) was deliberately left ambiguous. The infamous “cave scene” was vague, and the decision to delete a scene confirming Saavik’s pregnancy reflected a conscious effort to avoid solidifying this controversial narrative. Modern audiences largely interpret their bond as professional or even paternal, as depicted in the Star Trek novel The Pandora Principle.

By canonizing a sexual relationship, the story introduces a significant power imbalance. When they met, Spock was a seasoned officer near the end of his career, while Saavik was a young cadet just beginning hers. Such a dynamic not only feels inappropriate but also undermines Spock’s established character. Throughout the franchise, Spock has consistently been portrayed as a figure of integrity and professionalism. A romantic or sexual involvement with a much younger subordinate would be completely out of character for him.

Modern Context In 2024, it feels particularly tone-deaf to cement a storyline like this. Audiences today are more attuned to issues of consent, power dynamics, and age disparities in relationships, especially those involving mentor-mentee roles. What might have been overlooked or excused in the 1980s is now widely recognized as problematic. Revisiting and reinforcing such a dynamic sends the wrong message, especially in Star Trek of all franchises.

The decision to confirm this relationship in Unification feels not only unnecessary but also extremely damaging. It detracts from both Saavik and Spock and should not have been canonized!

#That being said- I also don't really see this as true alpha canon #I also am choosing to interpret this as Saavik just showing off that she had a son but not necessarily Spock's son #Please feel free to star talking to me about this cause I have a LOT of feelings about it #star trek #spirk #star trek tos #star trek the original series #spock #Saavik #unification star trek #765874 unification

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sansaorgana · 6 hours ago

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— DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST ALTERNATIVE ENDING (SAURON)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You are trying your best to support Adar even when his own children are starting to doubt him. Another challenge that you must face is him learning about your secret.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — First of all, thank you so much for your comments under every part and your support because this fic (and this fandom) was what brought back my joy for writing! 😊 This part is less canon-like than the alternative ending where The Reader chooses Sauron but I just had to give them a happy ending here! 🥰 BTW, I was googling the Elven word for "mother" and I hope I used the right one because there were so many... 😫

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (X – ADAR)

You spent the rest of the day and half of the night inside the forest, in your new favourite place, feeling uneasy. Alone, just in case Sauron wanted to reach out to you again. But he was not making such attempts and it was making you anxious more than ever. His wrath was something you did not want to experience yourself and you knew very well that you had earned it.

Nervously fidgeting with the wedding band around your finger, you were sitting there by the fallen tree and listening to the sounds of the battle taking place nearby. Once more, you felt like sneaking back into the camp, stealing your own horse and running away to some place where no one knew you. But you knew you could not. You had to face the consequences of your actions.

Eventually, you took a deep breath in and decided to find Adar. You needed him close to feel safe and secure again because your anxiety was growing bigger and bigger with each given moment.

You found him near your shared tent, surrounded by the Orcs, small fires to light the path and all the war machines that made you realise how truly close you were to the battle indeed and how serious the situation was.

As you were approaching Adar from one side, you spotted Glûg walking up to him from the opposite one, with some of his friends standing behind as if they were waiting for him to speak to their Lord Father in the name of them all.

“Lord Father,” Glûg started just when you stood next to your husband and wrapped your trembling hands around his arm, happy that he was still there; that Sauron’s rage had not taken him away from you just yet. “The wall is stronger than we thought,” Glûg continued with his head slightly bowed down. “We may not breach it before morning. The Elf is faring better than you expected,” he added. “His troops have already destroyed five of our trebuchets. Many Uruk are dying,” he emphasised, his voice filled with pain and fear. “What are your orders, Lord Father? Shall we sound retreat?”

“No,” Adar’s answer was quick, nearly harsh. It caused a shiver to go down your spine as you watched with interest the conversation between him and his son. “Sauron must not escape,” Adar stated and turned around in your direction, putting his arm around your back to walk you inside the tent. “Bring down that wall. At any cost,” he added.

“Adar!” Glûg exclaimed and you exchanged a meaningful look with your husband. There was desperation but also a hint of disappointment mixed with anger in the Orc’s voice. You both froze and turned around to face him once more. “You told us… You loved us,” Glûg reminded his father in the Black Speech and your heart clenched inside your chest at his words that you could understand perfectly well now.

“With all that is left of my heart,” Adar answered with pain but also determination in his voice. Too much to let you become Sauron’s slaves.”

There was no answer from Glûg or any of the Orcs, so Adar left your side and went inside the tent. You hesitated at the sight of their faces, though. Their expressions did not mean anything good.

“Glûg, my dear, come here,” you approached him and put your arm around him as you walked together into a bit more secluded place where no one else could hear you. “Can I trust you?” You asked him and he nodded after a short hesitation, visibly moved with the fact that your hand was on his arm, protectively. “In my short time by your father’s side, you and I spent a lot of time together,” you reminded him. “And I am going to tell you something that not even Adar knows,” you took a deep breath in and moved away slightly from him.

“What is it, my Lady?” He asked, curiously.

“I know Sauron,” you confessed and his eyes widened. “I met him at the dawn of this Age when I was a young maiden,” you explained. “He is no stranger to me, and believe me when I tell you… Your father wants the best for you. There are things about Sauron that he simply cannot reveal to you but he is the most dangerous spirit living amongst us. He cannot be trusted no matter what,” you told Glûg, feeling a sudden heaviness in your heart. You were betraying your lover now but how could you not under such circumstances?

Glûg’s eyes filled with fear but also admiration towards you. You trusted him with your secret and it made him feel special.

“Your father is not entirely rational now but he is doing it all because he loves you so much,” you assured the Orc and patted his arm.

“Yes, my Lady,” Glûg nodded and bowed his head down before hurrying back to his friends.

You took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself before you would face Adar. But when you entered the tent, he was visibly nervous and angry. You glanced at the pole, to which Lady Galadriel was supposed to be chained to but she was gone.

“What happened?” You asked.

“She escaped,” Adar stood up and showed you a small Elven key Galadriel had to use to get out of her shackles. Suddenly, you realised what Herald Elrond had done while kissing her. He had managed to distract everyone from the fact he had handed her his brooch with a hidden item inside.

“My dear,” you approached him, sensing his nervousness. You placed your hands flat on his chest and tried to soothe him. “Have you ordered already to search for her?”

“Yes, I have,” Adar nodded with a sigh. “I am now going to light the pyres for our fallen children. Are you coming with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you nodded and caressed his cheek softly. “Please, do not make decisions in a haste. Whatever happens, I shall remain by your side,” you promised and he smiled gently at you.

After that, you joined him by the funeral pyre. He lit it up with a torch while saying the phrase in the Black Speech that you had heard him say many times before whenever you had been burying any deceased Orc:

“In flames they return to darkness.”

You stood above him and kept your hand on his arm while he mourned with the Orcs. You looked down sadly, too and squeezed his shoulder as he raised his hand to join your fingers together.

Glûg was standing next to you and you could feel his curious eyes watching you closely throughout the short ceremony.

The battle was getting worse and more ferocious but you remained inside the tent now, nervously patting the surface of the wooden table with your fingers. Then, suddenly, Glûg entered the tent without even announcing himself. You turned around, surprised and raised an eyebrow at him.

“My Lady,” he bowed his head. “Forgive me but I must speak with you.”

“What is it, dear?” You furrowed your brows out of worry as you hurried to his side and put your arm around him once more to invite him inside.

“I come to you because Lord Father remains deaf to my pleas,” Glûg looked into your eyes, looking for compassion.

“What pleas, darling? He will not agree to go back home. Believe me, I’ve tried,” you cracked a sad smile.

“That I know, my Lady,” he nodded. “He has just ordered to send the troll in.”

“And why does that bother you so much?” You inquired. “Have we not brought that creature here to use him in battle?”

“He is killing our own kind!” Glûg tried to protest and you gasped when you realised what truly was the matter here.

“I understand,” you squeezed his arms. “I mourn with you, my dear, I truly do,” you nodded at him and it was not even a lie. “However, we must trust your Lord Father’s orders. In every battle there are heroes who lose their life for bigger ideas; who sacrifice themselves for others. I know how painful it is but our purpose is the most important. Sauron wishes to enslave your kind,” you tried to explain to him as if he was truly a child. “We cannot let him. And every hero amongst the Uruk that loses their life today, will forever be remembered and cherished.”

Glûg looked down, sadly, but you could feel his muscles relaxing a little under your comforting touch.

“All this pain,” he glanced up again to meet your gaze as you took your hands away from him and looked at him, confused. “Why does it hurt so much, Lady Mother?” He asked and his sincerity caused your eyes to fill with tears.

“It hurts me, too, Glûg. It hurts your father as well. It hurts because we love and care,” you explained. “However, some sacrifices must be made if we want to live peacefully in the future. I wish we did not have to but you have Sauron to thank for that and him only,” you added. “Do not forget who is the one who loves you and who is your enemy,” you reminded him and he bowed his head down before leaving your tent.

And when he left and you turned around while taking a deep breath in, you realised how he had called you a few moments ago.

Lady Mother.

You smiled to yourself. Somehow, it filled you with pride to earn this title.

When the dawn came, you could no longer stay in one place. You left the tent and went deeper into the forest to hide between the tall trees. But instead of going straight to your favourite place, you took a small detour, trying to calm down your pounding heart and your shaky breath.

And while walking around like that, you found another beautiful location – a forest clearing with a stone circle that had been built there by the Elves back in the First Age most likely. What surprised you the most about this place, though, was seeing your husband kneeling by the biggest stone in the middle of the circle. And upon that stone, Morgoth’s crown was laid.

“Are you praying, my love?” You whispered nervously as you approached him from behind. You would be very surprised if he said yes.

“How blind I was…” He only said mysteriously and moved his right hand across the stone’s surface, revealing a beautiful Ring on his finger and you gasped.

It was chiming with a beautiful song of the Elves and vibrating with pure lightness. It had to be the Ring Lady Galadriel had mentioned. Her Ring.

Adar raised himself very slowly as you kept watching him with a surprised and nervous expression. When he turned around, your jaw dropped slightly at the sight of his face being healed completely from all the scars and corruption.

He looked now like an ordinary Elf; like he had been before Morgoth. Your heart ached for him and you hurried to his side, reaching your hands out to cup his cheeks but his hands stopped your wrists as he looked into your eyes with a very sad expression.

“Loneliness caused my blindness when it came to you but this Ring made me see… It made me see everything,” he revealed and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes welled with tears instantly.

“Then it surely made you see how much I love you as well,” you breathed out. “And how much I regret everything.”

“I cannot blame you,” Adar let go of your wrists but you did not dare to make an attempt to touch his face this time as you looked down with tears and shame in your eyes. “You were forced to marry me and I know how tempting he can be even to the old and wise and you were nothing but a young maiden.”

“But now you see that my heart is even more rotten than you thought,” you mumbled out.

“On the contrary, my love. Only beautiful things can get corrupted. Your love and devotion towards him were your downfall and no heart able to love and devote itself as much can be rotten,” Adar pointed out and you looked up to meet his gaze once more.

His eyes were soft and sad but still not angry.

“What else do you see with that Ring?” You asked him, curiously.

“I see the future. How it might be if we form an alliance with the Elves. I see that these two items together,” he looked behind at Morgoth’s crown, “are enough to get rid of Sauron.”

“And do you see how much I want this, too?” You bit on your lower lip.

It felt so odd to speak to him when he looked like that. You felt like a child being lectured by an old and wise Elf like all those sages you had met in Mithlond and Eregion back in the day.

Perhaps Adar would be one of them if he had never chosen to follow Morgoth. Perhaps he would be your husband either way – you had been sent to these cities as a young maiden to study. Perhaps you would meet him there and fall in love with him. Even though the circumstances would be different, two Elven souls who loved each other would always find one another.

“I see much more,” Adar smiled softly and shyly reached out for your hand to hold it gently. You allowed him, gladly. “I see new life in the future. A possibility of it at least,” he explained as his voice trembled.

“What would that life be like, though?” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Pure, if that is what you are worrying about. It would be full of Valinor’s light,” he assured you and you cracked a smile.

“It is a possibility I might take under my consideration,” you told him. “One day… After you heal enough from my betrayal to forgive me.”

“I have forgiven you already, my love,” Adar said in the Quenya language as he raised his hand to brush your cheek. “I would forgive you even if you killed me for him.”

“Who would watch over your children then?” You shook your head.

“Our children. You would watch over them. Of that, I am certain, Emel,” Adar smiled.

Mother.

“Glûg called me that yesterday. He called me Lady Mother,” you told your husband, excitedly.

“I know,” he nodded, calmly. He was not surprised but visibly glad. “They have been calling you that behind your back for a while now,” he informed you and his words made you grin widely.

You made one more attempt to cup his healed cheeks and this time he allowed you to. His eyes closed themselves slightly at your touch and you felt warm tears streaming down your face because you wished he had never endured all the pain and suffering Morgoth and Sauron had put him through.

“Do not pity me, my love,” he interrupted your thoughts.

“It is scary how much you can penetrate my mind now,” you admitted with a chuckle and his eyes opened again to look at you.

“I wish it could stay this way,” Adar admitted. “I wish I could hide in yours when mine becomes unbearable.”

“Oh, Adar, my love…” You leaned in to join your lips together in a sweet and loving kiss.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You moved uncomfortably but Adar was standing still, so you relaxed once more and just went back to kissing him.

“She-Elf turned herself in,” you heard one of the Orcs as he threw a sword on the ground.

You broke the kiss and turned around. It was Lady Galadriel herself, standing there with widened eyes. She could not see Adar yet because you were standing in front of him but she was surprised enough already to witness you two kiss.

“Leave us,” you nodded at the Orcs and they walked away. They were trying to curiously look behind you and see Adar but he looked down as he hid behind you even further.

And he remained this way, as if he was shy to show his true form to Lady Galadriel. So, you took a step to the side to cover him from her even more and your hand found his to hold.

“I accept your terms, Uruks,” Galadriel announced, looking at you since she could not see your husband’s face. “I have what Sauron seeks. End this slaughter and I will do as you asked. I will help you destroy him.”

“How do you expect to destroy Sauron without your Ring?” Adar asked behind you and you slowly moved away as he revealed himself to her.

Galadriel gasped as her eyes widened with wonder.

“It would seem, even wounds that have endured an age, can sometimes yet be healed,” he said, softly.

“Adar…” Galadriel whispered, her voice filled with pain and compassion.

“When last I looked like this, I was known by another name,” he confessed and you stood by his side to wrap your hands around his arm.

“What was it?” Galadriel asked.

“A meaningless name. A name I was given,” Adar shook his head.

“The man he once was is a stranger to us, Galadriel. He should not concern us,” you told her, quoting the words he had once told you when you had asked the same thing.

“Adar is the name I earned,” he smiled softly at you before laying his eyes upon her again. He walked up to Galadriel and you followed him, still clutching to his arm. “Help me to earn it back.”

You watched your husband taking the beautifully crafted ring off and handing it back to Galadriel and your heart sank deeper into your chest when you realised his face was turning paler and greyer once more as his old scars were showing up on his skin again.

Not that you ever cared about them. It was no matter of beauty to you but it was a painful reminder of the suffering he had been through and for that reason you wished for him to be free of them.

And – despite that suffering – he had enough softness inside of him to love his children. Enough softness left deep inside of him to forgive his wife such a betrayal and to even understand her.

You couldn’t help the feeling that you did not deserve Adar but you would do anything from now on to be worthy of him.

“Take it,” he said to Galadriel. “Help me vanquish Sauron with it and I swear to you, we will recall our children to Mordor. Never to make war on Middle-earth again.”

Galadriel’s face filled with pain at his words and at the sight of his face going back to its previous state. She was full of light and compassion at that moment – just like she should always be. You felt bad for her now. For the corruption Sauron had been trying to cause within her, too.

“I have slain more of your children than any Elf alive,” she admitted with remorse and gentleness.

“I forgive you,” Adar said in the Sindarin language and you squeezed his arm tighter.

As you focused on him, you nearly missed the fact that the short silence occurring was caused by the fact Galadriel was looking at you and waiting for your answer, too.

“I am the last person you should seek forgiveness from,” you only said, mysteriously. “I have my own sins to redeem.”

After those words, Galadriel finally reached out for her Ring and took it from Adar’s hand.

“No more flames and no more darkness,” he promised her. “Let this Ring heal the rift between Elf and Uruk,” he added. “Let us create a lasting peace in Middle-earth.”

“Now and forever,” you added as you watched Galadriel put the Ring back on her finger and her face lit up with a smile.

Your small moment of blissfulness was interrupted by a few Orcs carrying Glûg on the stretchers. His face was wincing out of pain and he seemed to be hurt. Adar left your side immediately and you stood there with Galadriel while you observed.

“What happened?” Adar kneeled down to check on his son.

“We found Sauron, Lord Father,” one of the Orcs explained and you moved uncomfortably at that mention. “We refused to follow him. So, Sauron did this. He has fled from Eregion, they say.”

You exchanged a meaningful look with Lady Galadriel. It was no surprise to you that Sauron had disappeared after such a failure. After all, he was left with no army. His rage, however, had to be great now. And you were sure he would come back sooner than later to collect everything he believed belonged to him.

“We shall be ready when he comes,” Galadriel nodded at you and you nodded back but the worry about Glûg was occupying most of your thoughts now.

“Forgive me, child,” Adar whispered to him as you hurried to their side and kneeled down to take the Orc’s hand and squeeze it in yours.

“It’s too late for me…” Glûg groaned.

“No… No, no, no,” you shook your head and looked up at Galadriel. “Lady Galadriel, please. Can you try to heal him with your Ring?” You pleaded and all the Orcs looked at her as she swallowed thickly.

“I… I can try…” She hesitated and you moved away slightly to make more space for her.

“I will not let you die, my dear,” you promised Glûg as you squeezed his hand tighter.

All the Orcs watched with widened eyes how Lady Galadriel crouched down to put her hand with the beautiful Ring upon it and place it on Glûg’s chest. She closed her eyes and focused as the Ring chimed and you could feel that Glûg’s muscles were beginning to relax.

“It’s working,” one of the Orcs mumbled, surprised.

You watched with relief because they were right and Glûg managed to sit up right after Galadriel retreated with her Ring.

“Galadriel, the Orc-Slayer,” you smiled at her. “You have begun to redeem yourself amongst our kin.”

“Thank you, Lady Mother,” she nodded at you and you nodded back.

“Tell your brothers we are going back to Mordor,” Adar stood up and informed one of the Orcs. “Stop the siege. We have a pact now with the Elves.”

“And what then, Lord Father?” The Orc asked him.

“We will prepare ourselves for when Sauron comes because he will surely come. We will be ready to welcome him in our own land, on our own terms,” Adar answered.

“Will you go with us?” You asked Galadriel and her eyes widened slightly. “We need you there… and your Ring.”

“I must go where I’m needed the most and to defeat Sauron is my only purpose,” she agreed. “However, I am not sure if I am welcome in that place.”

“You are if I say so,” you smirked at her and finally let go of Glûg’s hand when you could feel his blood flowing properly again through his veins and you were sure he would be fine. “I am the Lady of Mordor,” you reminded her.

You were on your way home on the back of your black horse with Adar on the back of his right in front of you and Lady Galadriel still standing by her white mare as Herald Elrond was saying goodbye to her and glancing at you from time to time with a huge amount of distrust.

“We do not hurt our guests in Mordor,” you assured him playfully after a while. “And she will be back with you in one piece soon.”

“Just make sure to answer our calling when we need an Elven army to help us defeat Sauron,” Galadriel took Elrond’s hands into hers and he stopped looking at you to nod at her.

Adar and you exchanged meaningful looks and soft smiles as you led your horse a bit further, so you would stand next to him.

“Are you happy to go back home?” He asked and you nodded.

“More than you can imagine,” you answered and extended your hand towards him as he reached out for you and you squeezed each other’s fingers for a brief while.

You heard Galadriel hopping onto her horse behind you and Adar nodded at the rest of the Orcs, which meant that you all could retreat back to Mordor where you would prepare for Sauron’s comeback with Morgoth’s crown Lady Galadriel with her Ring by your side.

You slowed down your horse to ride next to her now and you both exchanged soft smiles. She had no idea of your history with Sauron – Adar made sure for it to be your secret. However, you had a feeling her soul somehow knew because you could sense a thread of friendship based on a similar experience forming there between you two.

“What will happen to the men from The Southlands, Lady Mother?” She asked you.

“They will be given their homes back. Those who wish to stay in such a dark land at least and the rest are free to go. They will have to learn to share their land with the Uruk now, though,” you answered.

“And what about you? Where will you reside?”

“I was thinking of it,” you looked at her. “I wish to rebuild Ostirith,” you answered. “The fortress might not have been grand but it was my home. I wish to go back there and watch over Mordor from there with my husband like my parents once watched over The Southlands.”

“As King and Queen?” She inquired.

“No,” you shook your head. “That is not my desire. Nor my husband’s.”

Lady Galadriel seemed to be pleased with your answer and you took a deep breath in, looking at the road ahead of you as you felt at peace inside of your heart.

Peace and freedom. You were free of Sauron’s shackles. You no longer had any secrets from your husband or any guilt towards your former lover. Nothing felt better.

You were aware that the war was far from over but you were hopeful about your future and when Adar turned around to make sure you were still there, you smiled at him lovingly, still not being able to believe that he loved you so much to forgive you.

You would make sure to never make him regret that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 If you are curious, you can read Sauron's ending as well to see the possibility of what could have been only if our Reader made slightly different choices. If you read both endings, you will see that it was mostly small gestures of kindness and compassion that decided her fate. 💓

MASTERLIST

#adar x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #annatar x reader #lilysfiction

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criminalcinnamon · 8 hours ago

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SLEEPOVER (an alecody fic)

Yayyyy another fic!!! I've been planning to write this for MONTHS. I wrote this in like. 2 days btw, shortest time ive ever taken to write a fic. Ough

Cody was practically hopping from foot to foot as he stood outside Alejandro's apartment. He was ECSTATIC. Why? Because him and Alejandro were having a sleepover. Cody didn't have much experience with sleeping at people's houses, not having many friends when he was younger, so that excitement was also tinged with nerves. What if he messed up? What if Alejandro never let him sleep over again? He felt his hand tremble slightly as he pressed Alejandro's doorbell.

Cody was greeted with a warm smile on the other side of the doorframe as Alejandro opened up.

"Cody! Finally."

"Good to know you were waiting."

"I was, do you have everything?"

"Yeah, I mean I think so."

"Great. You should probably come in now."

Alejandro opened the door wider and stepped aside so Cody could enter. Cody glanced around, briefly looking the taller man up and down before setting his large backpack down, almost falling over as he slipped off one of the straps, winning a laugh out of Alejandro as he steadied him. Cody's face flushed and he scratched his neck sheepishly.

"So, what're we gonna do?"

"We could watch a movie."

"Ooh, okay! What should we watch?"

"I have Jurassic Park on DVD."

"Of course you do, I know it's your favourite."

"It is." Alejandro smiled sheepishly. "Although it is not entirely accurate."

"Nerd."

"Oh, hush you."

Cody giggled and wandered over to the couch before remembering something.

"Do you have the onesie?" He asked excitedly, his hands gripping the back of the couch.

"Of course I do, but do we HAVE to wear them?"

"Uh, yeah! I thought it'd be cute."

"Alright, fine. I will wear it."

"Awesome! Let me grab mine."

Cody clambered over the back of the couch - even though he could've just got up normally - and grabbed his bag before dashing to the bathroom to change. Alejandro sighed fondly and wandered into his room to change as well.

The second Cody entered the bathroom, he locked the door, just in case. He sighed and stared at himself in the mirror, starting to fix up his hair. Once he was finally done, he changed into the onesie. It was blue and shark themed, with a fin on the back and teeth and eyes on the hood, as well as a sewn on shark tail. He laughed to himself slightly before he unlocked the door and stepped back into the living room, to find Alejandro seated on the couch in his matching outfit, a green dinosaur onesie with similar features on the hood and spikes down the back and tail.

"You look adorable!" Cody hopped onto the couch next to Alejandro, who rolled his eyes playfully.

"As do you."

"Yeah, but you're cuter." Cody grinned, leaning against Alejandro.

"Fine, I suppose I am."

"That's the spirit! Now let's start up the movie, yeah?"

"Yup."

Alejandro got off the couch and bent down to grab the DVD, slipping it into the DVD player before going back to rest against the couch. Cody curled up against the former as the movie started, and Alejandro put a reassuring hand on his back.

At around the halfway mark, Alejandro broke the comforting silence.

"Do you know how inaccurate this movie is? The tyrannosaurus rex had feathers, and the velociraptors did too. The dilophosaurus did not have those things on the side of its head and it certainly did not SPIT ACID!"

Alejandro continued to rant about the inaccuracies of the movie, while Cody watched him admiringly, listening to every single word. His eyes weren't even on the screen anymore, they were focused on his boyfriend. Cody loved how much Alejandro knew about dinosaurs, and the way he was so expressive and passionate about them made it even better. He felt himself leaning even more into Alejandro, who ended his rambling to wrap his arm around him.

When the movie ended, Cody was practically half asleep. Alejandro laughed and shook him slightly.

"Cody, wake up." Cody blinked slowly and sat up properly.

"Sorry, tired."

"Let us get to bed then. Come on." Alejandro stepped off the couch and held out his hand to Cody, who took it gratefully, their fingers tangling together as they walked together. Cody couldn't really think of anything to say, so he stayed silent.

When they reached the bedroom, Cody collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in one of Alejandro's decorative pillows.

"You really are exhausted." Alejandro commented as he sat on the end of the bed. Cody shuffled over to him and pulled him down. Alejandro chuckled and wrapped his arms around Cody.

Cody groaned. "Mhm... Promise you'll stay?"

"I promise." Alejandro kissed Cody's forehead and pulled the blankets over them.

Around midnight, Cody awoke from whatever dream he was having and sat up in bed, Alejandro's arms were around his waist. He looked down at his partner, panting quietly.

"You awake?" He whispered. Alejandro yawned in response and Cody laughed.

"Sorry for waking you up."

"It is alright, I was having trouble sleeping anyway."

"Oh. Sorry."

Alejandro chuckled. "It is not related to you, do not worry."

Cody breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

Cody lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes only to reopen them a second later.

"I'm hungry."

"Me too, shall we go get something to eat?"

"But I don't wanna get up..." Cody whined.

"I will get you something, stay there." Cody rolled his eyes but nodded.

Soon, Alejandro was back with a mug of hot chocolate and a sandwich.

"You made me a sandwich?"

"Yes? We were going to share."

"Great! Thanks." Cody kissed Alejandro's nose.

They settled into bed together, eating their sandwiches and drinking their hot chocolates. Cody smiled to himself, the sleepover went better than he expected, and he couldn't wait for their next one.

---------------------------------------------------

Hope yall like this one, I really enjoyed writing it 🎉

#total drama #td cody #cody tdi #td alejandro #alejandro tdi #alecody #alejandro x cody #pen man writes #ANOTHER ONE #WOOO

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daisymbin · 8 hours ago

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can i request for hoshi + 8 was anything real between us?

also happy ending plss 🥹

of course 🥰 thank you for requesting!!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

angst prompt #8: "was anything real between us?"

soonyoung couldn’t stop watching you. it had been like that for the past few weeks—your laugh no longer making his heart race the way it used to, your touch no longer feeling like a spark. you were slipping away from him, and no matter how many times he tried to convince himself it was just a phase, the truth gnawed at him like a bitter taste.

the two of you had always been in this strange, limbo space—something more than just friends, but never quite enough to call it a relationship. late-night calls, inside jokes, and lazy mornings spent tangled in each other’s arms. soonyoung had always enjoyed it, always hoped it could be more. he’d wanted it to be more.

but you were pulling away. slowly, almost imperceptibly, but it was there. you didn’t laugh at his jokes as much, didn’t touch him the same way anymore, and lately, it felt like every time you two hung out, you were rushing to leave, making excuses to cut your time short.

tonight was supposed to be different. it was supposed to be just the two of you, sharing dinner at his place, like old times. but as the night wore on, he felt it again—the distance. you were quieter than usual, distant in a way that made him anxious. he tried to brush it off, tried to chalk it up to you having a bad day, but deep down, he knew something was wrong.

as you stood up from the table, gathering your things, he felt his heart sink. “are you leaving already?” he asked, his voice low, the hurt creeping in before he could stop it.

“yeah, i—i have work tomorrow,” you mumbled, not meeting his eyes as you zipped your bag shut. “i should get going.”

“no, wait,” soonyoung's voice cracked desperately, standing up quickly, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “why are you acting like this?” his voice was soft but filled with confusion, his eyes searching yours. “what’s wrong? why have you been so cold lately?”

you froze, your chest tightening. you knew exactly why. the more you fell for him, the more you realized this… this wasn’t going anywhere. you had tried to convince yourself otherwise, told yourself that things were fine, but it hurt too much to keep pretending. it hurt to realize you’d fallen in love with someone who couldn’t see you the way you needed him to.

but you couldn’t tell him that. not when your heart was already breaking just thinking about it.

“nothing’s wrong,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze as you pulled your wrist gently from his grasp. “i just have a lot on my mind, okay?”

“no,” soonyoung’s voice hoarse, desperation in his words as he took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “don’t lie to me,” his thumb brushed softly over your skin, his eyes searching yours, pleading for an answer. “you’re not the same. you’ve been distant. have i done something wrong? did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, taking a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “no, you didn’t hurt me, soonyoung. i just…” your voice trailed off, the words too hard to say. how could you explain that the more you let yourself care about him, the more you realized this was nothing but a dead-end?

“you just what?” he pressed, his grip on your cheek tightening ever so slightly, the vulnerability in his eyes evident. “tell me what’s going on, because i can’t stand this. i can’t stand not knowing why you’re pulling away from me.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes. “soonyoung…” your voice was barely a whisper, the words too difficult to say out loud. you had been avoiding them for so long, afraid that once you said them, everything would fall apart. “i’m scared.”

soonyoung frowned, his thumb still brushing over your cheek. “scared of what?”

“scared that this… this thing between us isn’t real,” you choked out, the tears finally escaping. “we’re just… we’re just stuck in this weird place, and i can’t do it anymore. i love you, soonyoung, but i don’t think you love me back the same way. i don’t think you ever will.”

the silence between you two stretched out, heavy and suffocating. soonyoung’s eyes widened, his mouth parting slightly as he processed your words. “what… what are you talking about?” his voice was low, almost broken. “i love you. i love you so much.”

you shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “no, soonyoung, you don’t. not in the way i need you to.”

he stepped back, his hand falling from your cheek, and for a moment, he looked lost. hurt. “so that’s it? you're not even going to try? you’re just going to walk away?”

your chest ached. “i don’t want to, but—”

“was anything real between us?” soonyoung interrupted, his voice raw, his eyes searching yours desperately for an answer. “was it all just some game to you? did you ever care about me? because i’ve been in love with you, for so long, and i thought… i thought we were building something real.”

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the words you’d been holding back, the things you were so afraid to say, were coming out now, and it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, choking on your own tears. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

soonyoung took a step forward, his hand gently cupping your face, his thumb wiping away the tears. “i love you,” he said again, his voice softer now. “i love you, and i want to make this work. so stop running from me.”

you looked into his eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. and suddenly, everything became clear. the fear, the doubt, the pain—it was all a reflection of your own insecurities. soonyoung had never stopped loving you. he had always been there, always wanted you.

and you had never really given him the chance to show you.

“i love you, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

you nodded, burying your face in his chest, the warmth of his arms around you making everything feel right again.

soonyoung smiled, the relief flooding his features as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he never wanted to let go. “then let’s make this work, okay? no more running away from each other.”

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sturnswrites · 1 day ago

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back to you - pt. 1

Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

⤳ angst, angst, more angst, crying, breakup

⤳ you and matt break up after you leave for college but when summer break comes around you both can’t seem to shake the feeling of one another away.

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The room felt colder that day, despite the California sun pouring through the windows. Y/N sat cross-legged on Matt’s couch, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of the words coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t want to do this,” he finally said, his voice low but trembling.

“Then don’t.” Your voice cracked, and you hated how desperate you sounded. “Matt, we can figure it out. Long distance isn’t the end of the world.”

“I just think… with you going to New York and me staying here with Nick and Chris, it’s going to be hard,” Matt said, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere near the carpet.

“Hard?” she repeated, her voice catching, eyes stinging with tears. “Matt, we’ve been together for two years. We’ve been through everything together. Why can’t we at least try?”

He finally looked at you, his blue eyes clouded with something that looked a lot like pain. “Y/N, I’ve thought about this a lot. I don’t want to hold you back while you’re starting this new chapter. And I don’t think I can handle being so far away, not knowing if—if we’re still the same.”

He paused for a second leaving the room with enough silence to hear a pin drop. “You’ll be out there meeting new people, having new experiences. And I’ll be here, stuck in the same routine. It’s not fair to either of us.” he continued.

“It’s not fair?” you repeated, your voice breaking. “What’s not fair is you deciding this without me. What’s not fair is you giving up on us before we’ve even tried.”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, you thought he might take it back. That he’d tell you he was being stupid, that you’d find a way to make it work. But instead, he shook his head, his face etched with pain.

Your chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up on us?”

“I’m not giving up,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “I’m letting you go because I love you too much to keep you tied down.”

You stood up abruptly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your hands were trembling, eyes blurred with tears, but you didn’t want him to see how much he’d broken you.

“I never felt tied down, Matt,” you said quietly, her voice trembling. “I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with you.”

And then you walked out, leaving behind the only person who had ever made you feel completely whole.

The months that followed were nothing short of excruciating.

New York was everything you had hoped it would be—bustling, exciting, alive, a blur of classes, new friends…and trying desperately to move on. No matter how many new friends you made or how many late-night adventures you went on, there was a constant ache in your chest that refused to go away.

You threw yourself into school, keeping yourself so busy that you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about Matt. But he always found his way into your thoughts. You’d hear a song he loved, or pass by someone wearing a hoodie like the one he used to wear, and suddenly it felt like you were back in his room, begging him to choose you.

You’d see his face in your memories—the way his nose scrunched when he laughed, the way he used to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, the way he’d whisper “I love you” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t fair. You hated how he still had this hold on you, even after he’d been the one to end things.

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Matt was unraveling.

At first, he convinced himself he’d done the right thing. He told himself that breaking up with you was selfless, that he was giving you the freedom to thrive without any ties holding you back. He was still filming videos with Nick and Chris, smiling for the camera, cracking jokes like nothing was wrong.

But as the weeks turned into months, that resolve began to crack.

He’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he let you go. He’d watch old videos on his phone of the two of you laughing together, and it felt like a punch to the gut every time.

Nick and Chris noticed, of course. They weren’t blind to the way Matt had become quieter, more withdrawn. But every time they tried to bring it up, he brushed them off, burying himself in their work.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for his phone late at night, your contact saved under “My Favorite Person.” His fingers would hover over the keyboard, crafting and deleting messages he’d never have the courage to send.

By the time summer rolled around, you’d convinced yourself you were over him. Or at least, you told yourself that enough times to believe it.

One of your friends, Emma, had decided to throw a party for everyone to reconnect after their first year of college.

“It’ll be fun,” Emma had said. “I promise!”

You weren’t so sure about that, but you went anyway, hoping the night would distract you from the lingering ache in her chest.

“Everyone’s going to be there,” Emma had said, grinning as she handed you the invitation. “It’ll be like old times.”

“Sure,” you had replied with a forced smile, pushing down the nagging thought that “everyone” might include the one person you weren’t ready to see.

When you arrived at the party, the air was filled with the familiar buzz of laughter and music. You slipped easily into conversations, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen in months.

You were in the middle of a story, a drink in your hand, when a voice you hadn’t heard in far too long made your heart stop.

“Y/N?”

You turned slowly, your breath catching as your eyes met Matt’s.

He looked… different. His hair was a little longer, his face a little sharper, but his eyes were still the same piercing blue that had haunted your dreams.

“Oh, hi,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He shifted on his feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Yeah, Nick dragged me along. I didn’t know you’d be back.”

“Just for the summer,” you replied, your chest tight.

An awkward silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it felt like you were strangers. But the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room, made your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Well,” you said finally, “it was nice seeing you.”

“You too,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you turned back to your group.

But the night was far from over.

You couldn’t stop noticing him.

Every time you glanced across the room, Matt was there—leaning against a wall, talking to Nick, or laughing with someone you didn’t recognize. And every time, you felt his eyes on you, as if he was just as unable to look away.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your friends and the easy rhythm of their conversation. But it was impossible not to feel the pull, the magnetic force that had always drawn you to him.

Matt was losing his mind.

Seeing you again was like a shot of adrenaline to his system, every memory he’d tried to bury rushing back with brutal clarity. He wanted to talk to you, to explain, to apologize. But every time he tried to muster the courage, the words got stuck in his throat.

Finally, as the night began to wind down, he couldn’t take it anymore.

You were standing alone on the back porch, the soft glow of string lights casting a halo around you. He stepped outside, his heart pounding as he closed the distance between you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but urgent.

You turned to face him, your expression guarded. “Matt.”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You hesitated, your emotions swirling in a storm of hope, fear, and anger. But something in his gaze made you nod.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

And with that, he led you away from the noise and the crowd, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy between you.

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ok now this one got me excitedddd

⭒ margot

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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pentechnics · 3 days ago

Text

A Little Leap

Chapter 9 of Latch

Summary: The long-awaited night is here, and both you and Din struggle with casting your cautions aside. Will it hinder your time together?

Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Series Masterlist

Notes: Very long awaited, but hopefully worth it. And not even a power outage could stop me from getting it out today! Poured a lot of love into this one and I'm so excited to see what you all think of it! Sending you all so much love and well-wishes!!

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~~~~

A few days later, Din was stepping back into Lando’s shop and greeting him with a handshake. Lando led him to the back where a rack of black garment bags hung, plucking out two and handing them to him. “Here we are, all set for you.”

“Two?” Din pointed to the second bag. “I only bought one.”

“Luke had me make up another for you. He noticed you liked the brown one, too.”

Lando winked and pressed them into Din’s hands. Din glanced between him and the suits, unsure of what to say. How did Luke do that without him noticing?

“... Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Lando nodded and waved as Din made his way out of the boutique.

Din hung the garments in the back seat of the car and clambered inside with a huff. During the drive back he rehearsed what he’d say to Luke upon his return – why’d you do that? How’d you do that? What the hell, you didn’t have to do that.

Din sighed. That kid was too giving for his own good.

He tried to keep an air of authority as he stepped through the front door and dramatically held out his two garment bags. He threw a stern glare at a gleeful Luke, who was sitting on the couch, not affected by Din in the slightest.

“... I don’t pay you enough to be doing things like this.”

Luke just laughed. Din gulped down his annoyance, standing up straighter in an attempt to keep up his angry demeanor.

“Relax, it’s a gift! It’ll come in handy.”

“Luke,” Din warned.

“Mr. Djarin, I promise, that is the last sort of intervention I plan to do.” He lifted his palm into the air. “You have my word.”

Din gave him a solid nod and made his way to the bedroom.

“It better be.”

~~~~~

“Your nerves are understandable. Is there any specific thing you’re worried about?”

You shifted in your seat before returning Dr. Jinn’s gaze. Each little thing seemed to pile together: some rational, some very much not. And more came with each passing day. What if he stood you up? What if you said something stupid? What if you spill your drink all over him?

“I just… I’m not sure what to expect. I’m not a big date person, I haven’t been on very many good ones in the past.”

“Ah, so because you really like him, you’re extra worried about it not going well?”

A bullseye, as usual. But damn, did he have to say it so bluntly each time? You nodded.

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Let me ask you this,” he tapped his pen against his knee as he spoke. “Do you think you were the reason those other dates were bad?”

You thought about it. One person made offensive jokes. Another turned out to be cheating on someone with you. One stared at the waiter’s ass the whole time. You winced at the memories.

“I guess most of them were out of my control.”

He gave a slight grin.

“Then I think it’s safe to say you won’t screw anything up.”

“… But what if he does?”

He paused, taking in your expression before asking, “What do you think is the worst thing that could happen during this date?”

A bead of anxiety led to sadness, shame, and anger. It wouldn’t be the total end of the world, but it would hurt as if it was.

“... Him not showing up. Or changing his mind.”

“Okay. Solid concern. Now tell me this: when you think about him, what are the biggest traits that stand out to you?”

Flashes of his face and of conversations the two of you shared ran through your mind. Those kind eyes and warm smile took over your senses, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“... He’s kind,” you began, “and smart.”

Grogu entered your mind’s eye.

“...And he seems really loyal to the people in his life.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

You smiled and nodded.

“So, you’ll just have to take a little leap. Trust that he’ll come through.”

You stared at your lap. He was right. But just how were you meant to do that?

“Is that something I can learn to do in two days?” you asked with a dry laugh.

Dr. Jinn shrugged.

“Personally, I don’t think it’s something anyone is ever done learning. But we all have to start somewhere.”

~~~~

Din straightened his collar in the mirror, letting out a huff that made the tip of his hair bounce up.

He took in the sight of the grey suit in the mirror, hoping to summon that same magical feeling he got wearing it for the first time in Lando’s boutique. He turned around to face Grogu’s crib.

“What do you think, kid?”

Grogu smiled up at him from his standing perch, patting the edge of the crib with his hand. Din chuckled and went over to lift him out and carry him into the living room.

“Luke will be here any minute. You better be good to him, okay?”

Grogu laid his head down onto Din’s shoulder in response, wrapping his arms around him as much as they’d allow.

Din stopped in his tracks. Little waves of warmth and love flowed through him; he held Grogu close and basked in it.

Something seemed odd – typically, Grogu would cling like this and whimper when he wanted support. Then Din would’ve doubled down and stay home for him.

But this seemed different. Grogu was silent, save for a few gentle, happy coos. It was as though Grogu was trying to tell him something else. To ease his worries. It had Din swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.

This was hard. Leaving him was always hard. But as Din ran his hands through Grogu’s little curls, the prickly, heavy anxiety began to slowly loosen its grip.

He gave Grogu a kiss on the cheek just as Luke knocked on the door.

Deep breath. It’s now or never.

“All right, buddy, wish me luck.”

Grogu giggled and tapped his hand against Din’s chin, making him chuckle.

During the drive, Din couldn’t help the way his muscles seized. Every alarm bell in his system was ringing – not the way they usually did when he was away from Grogu, but something insistent and foreign. Good signs or bad, he couldn’t tell.

The evening sent a chill through his half-open window. The sky poked through the high-rises, its colorful clarity a direct contrast to the electric storm brewing inside him.

His mind was jumping from place to place – anxious, guilty, excited – they all melded together and created a dizzying new emotion he wasn’t sure how to name. Din was no stranger to running into a situation he wasn’t familiar with, but something about this seemed so much more fragile. It had more variables than he was used to. Larger margin for error, and less room for it. He resisted the urge to hit his head against the steering wheel to get his brain to shut up.

When he parked in front of your building and stepped out onto the curb, he forced himself to take a breath. One feeling at a time, one worry at a time.

Grogu’s okay. Focus on her.

It’ll be good. She’ll be happy to see you.

You look fine. Stop thinking about your stomach.

The voice speaking to him was collected and confident next to his racing heart. He chanted the words over and over again in his head, breathing in time with them until he could muster up the nerve to pull out his phone. He glanced at the clock – per Luke’s instructions, he had arrived ten minutes early.

Won’t she feel rushed, though? He’d asked. What if she needs more time?

Trust me, Luke had said. You’re the one who’s going to need it.

Damn that boy. Why was he always right? Din allowed himself a few more minutes of nervous pacing and obsessive jacket-pulling before opening up his messages.

~~~~

You sat in front of your mirror, making your final preparations before Din was due to arrive. Dress was on, accessories were added, and now it was time to wait. Your phone sat on the bathroom counter, taunting you. He’d be texting you any second now.

You were putting essentials into your little wristlet purse. Your hands were shaking, each little item struggling to get into the opening.

A thousand pep talks and reminders to breathe from Harley couldn’t even scratch the surface of your brain without interference. It was like you were shut off from your fear sector, unable to soothe it even if you wanted to. You stared at their messages of encouragement blankly before shutting your eyes and heaving a deep sigh.

Even though he really didn’t seem like the type, you couldn’t shake your fears of Din running away. Deciding he didn’t want to do this, that he didn’t want to see you. It took everything you had to not cancel first and beat him to the punch. And yet every time you snuffed the temptation, part of you wondered if you’d regret it later.

‘You’ll just have to trust him a little.’

As if on cue, Dr. Jinn’s voice rang through your mind like a bell. A soothing chime that cut through all of the abrasive, self-destructive noise. It reminded you of what you were meant to be trying. The clog inside you was pushing to be cleared – you just needed to help it along.

You rose from your spot and wandered into the living room, phone now cradled in your hand. The evening was settling in and basking its iridescent glow upon the city, the buildings surrounding your apartment cloaked in its blues, purples, and pinks. You thought about Din, about the memories you’ve already made together. His smile, his laugh…

… His baby.

You clutched your phone in your fist as another wave of anxiety pulsed through you. What would you do if you messed this up? The mental image of Grogu’s smiling face had your heart singing – what if you never got to see him again?

But then again, when did this date become the make-it-or-break-it of this whole thing?

It’s not as though this would be the first time you and Din sat together and talked. You’d done that several times at Cal’s. You had no reason to believe this wouldn’t be just like that, right? Calming, fun, and easy. You let out a slow breath, shoulders drooping down with it.

Yeah, that’s all this is, you told yourself. Just another fun meet-up across the counter.

Your phone buzzed.

With a jolt, tension returned to your muscles as you looked at the screen. He was here.

It was time.

Shit.

You texted back with frantic fingers, running to grab the last of your things and put on your shoes before heading out the door – but not before taking one last glance out the window.

The calm of dusk, an everlasting being of promise and beauty. The dull quiet in your apartment, a guaranteed comfort when you returned, regardless of what happened.

Certainties you could hold onto in a world of unknowns.

You pushed yourself out the door.

~~~~

You focused on each breath as the elevator made its painfully slow descent. You patted your dress, your head, your purse, anything that could possibly fall out of place between now and the lobby.

Part of you began to wonder where he’d be taking you. Him taking the reins on those details was a welcomed surprise; you couldn’t help feeling pampered by the prospect of not having to make that decision.

A smile tugged on your cheeks as the elevator signaled your arrival to the lobby. You sucked in one more breath and squeezed your bag. Here goes nothing.

You walked out and made it a whole five steps before almost tripping over your feet.

He was a vision: standing outside beside his car, leaning against the passenger side. Hands in his pockets. Gaze turned to the side. His suit was perfectly tailored to him, outlining his broad shoulders and full hips. Those arms that could rip his uniform into shreds were less of a threat to the suit jacket, though still made their presence known. The stubble on his face was short but visible, and it gave his jawline even more of a sharp edge. He turned and gave a small grin at the sight of you.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and regained your footing.

“Hi,” you greeted as you stepped out the door. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Not at all,” he said, hands slowly making their way out of his pockets. “You look… “

He trailed off for a moment, glancing down at your dress before meeting your eyes again.

“... Amazing.”

You swallowed again, the heat in your face making it harder to breathe.

“So do you.”

You couldn’t help stealing another glance at that marvelous suit, subconsciously biting your lips together in hopes of keeping your cool.

“Thank you.”

You returned his gaze upon hearing his voice, letting yourself get lost in them. Any semblance of nerves that had just been assaulting you were long gone, like you’d been in a crowded room, and he was the one to walk in and make every voice fall silent.

Who could blame them? He left you speechless, too.

After a moment he cleared his throat and opened the car door for you.

“Shall we, then?”

You smiled at the gesture and climbed in, your heart already aflutter. Who knew people still opened car doors for each other?

You watched him walk around and get into the driver’s seat, phone in hand.

“I’m a little embarrassed at having to use the GPS to get there,” he said with a chuckle.

“Don’t be!” You laughed. “Everyone needs the help sometimes.”

He glanced up at you before resuming his search, a small dust of color brimming on his ears.

Once the GPS began to speak, he pulled onto the road.

“I don’t recognize the name of the restaurant,” you commented, rubbing your thumb along the back of your opposite hand. “Have you ever been?”

“No, actually. I don’t go out very much.”

“Me, either,” you nodded.

“New for us both. That’ll be nice.”

He pulled up to a stoplight and turned away from the road to look at you.

“Yeah, that will be nice.” You said with a smile.

An unspoken feeling passed through you: uncharted, exciting, deep. By the way Din looked at you, you’d swear he was feeling the same thing. His eyes seemed to be speaking for him again – a language you were so desperate to learn. Yet at the same time, it felt as though the message was crystal clear.

The light turned green, but the spell didn’t break. Somehow, without even having to look at you, those eyes were still relaying their words. The comfortable silence between you was so loud with them that it was almost too much to bear.

Din ended up driving you to a separate sector of downtown from where Cal’s and the Mark were located. A spring of joy lit up inside you; this was an area you never got to explore.

When Din pulled into a parking spot, he rushed to undo his seat belt.

“Hang on.”

You halted your hands from reaching for the door handle and instead watched him jog over to open it again for you. A wide smile sprouted on your face. What a precious gentleman.

You glanced at the hand he held out for you before placing yours in it. Just as it had the last time, back in Cal’s, electricity shot through you. There was a slight jolt in his grip before he pulled you to your feet, giving your hand the slightest squeeze before letting it go.

You instantly missed his warmth.

He pointed the way after locking the car and the two of you walked side by side. You held tight to your bag, still unsure of what physical boundaries should be kept. You glanced at his hand, dangling along his side. It swayed with his movements.

How nice would it be if it just stayed wrapped around yours?

Upon approaching the restaurant, he opened that door for you as well, making you giggle.

“Will you be opening all my doors tonight?”

“... Is that okay?”

The concern that clouded his eyes made you wish you hadn’t said a word. You smiled and held out a hand towards him.

“Of course, yes! I’m just not used to it is all.”

You paused and looked at your feet, nerves threatening to keep the next words from escaping your mouth.

“It makes me feel really special.”

He let out a breath. You watched the tension dissipate from his shoulders and a calmness come over his expression.

“I’m glad.”

He turned from you and greeted the approaching waiter.

You took the moment look around. The restaurant was quaint and elegant, warm yellow lighting reflecting off the maroon walls. Wide open dining areas and a dancing area down a farther hallway. Shimmering chandeliers dangled from above and reflected constellations off themselves.

It was gorgeous.

When the waiter grabbed two menus, you began to prepare yourself. Your heart was pounding deep and loud – a boisterous show of its limits.

And the evening had only just begun.

~~~~

Light chatter surrounded you both as you sat at the intimate little table for two, waiting for your orders. The candle sitting between you made Din glow; specks of yellow danced across his face, making his eyes shimmer. He was looking out the window, his side profile made ever sharper by the contrasting shadows.

“It looks so other-worldly outside,” he said, “... does that sound weird?”

His voice snapped you out of your trance.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head.

You took a glance out the window, taking in the pale city lights as they twinkled against the dark backdrop of the encroaching night. As cars drove past, the headlights would briefly splatter the surrounding surfaces. It was like several little light shows just for the two of you.

“I see what you mean. It’s kind of magical.”

He turned to you and grinned. His eyes betrayed a hint of embarrassment.

The waiter came by and set your food before you both. Din cleared his throat and glanced about the room until they walked away.

The smell immediately graced your nose, making you breathe in a deep dose of it. Your stomach grumbled its approval just before you both began eating. You were grateful for the food – it gave you something to do when you couldn’t think of what to say.

Clinking silverware and padded footsteps of passing waiters filled the air. You glanced up at Din between bites – he would either be pecking at his food or glancing out the window, seemingly wringing his hands together.

Good to know he was also nervous, though it left you unsure of how to break the tension. You took another bite and thought back to the pep-talk you gave yourself.

Just another chat across the counter.

You took a sip of your water and set down your cutlery.

“How’s Grogu doing?”

His eyes darted to you, expression a little lost.

“Oh- he’s… good.”

“No more fevers, I hope.”

That got him to smile a bit.

“No, he’s okay. He’s actually been really active lately.”

“Yeah?” Tell me more.”

He did. And as he spoke, his demeanor shifted. The weight left his shoulders, the buzzing air calming. You could swear you were actually at Cal’s, and he was sitting at the counter. You couldn’t help smiling – at both his and Grogu’s cuteness.

Conversation flowed much more easily after that, the evening drifting along with it. He made you laugh, you made him blush, and everything in the world made sense.

Before either of you knew it, the waiter had left the check on the table and at least a solid two hours had passed. Din didn’t even entertain the notion when you lifted your little purse to help pay, giving you a good laugh and another flutter of the heart.

The two of you walked out into the night soon after, you nursing leftovers in your hand. The walk to the car was slow and peaceful, the breeze a relief on your beaming cheeks. When you reached the car, you stopped Din with a hand on his forearm before he could open the door.

“Hey-” you looked up at him. “Do you want to…”

You gulped. You didn’t want the night to end just yet. But what would happen if he said no? Just imagining the awkwardness made you want to run away. He glanced down at your hand before meeting your eyes again.

“... walk around a bit?” he finished for you.

You nodded with a smile, hoping the utter mental pain you were enduring wasn’t visible in your expression. He straightened up and took your to-go box out of your hands.

“That sounds nice. Let’s drop this off, then.”

The relief was so sweet yet drastic. You sighed with a small laugh and gave his forearm a little squeeze.

~~~~

The walk reminded you of that spontaneous arcade day the two of you shared, yet this was somehow even sweeter.

The night was rich with energy. Light spilled onto the sidewalks from the little shops that lined the streets, a slight breeze whisking around you, and a healthy flow of words still running between you. Din’s voice grew just a bit more animated than it had been at the start of the night, and you reveled in the soothing sound of it.

One shop caught your eye: a little ice cream parlor, painted in creamy pastels and boasting a host of flavors, with indoor decor that was reminiscent of a vintage diner. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the sugary vanilla scent. You turned to Din with a grin.

“Do you want some dessert?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and hesitated. A beat passed before he gulped and tore his gaze from you to look at the list of flavors outside the door.

“Sure—yeah, let’s do it.”

You insisted on paying once flavors had been selected, mirroring what he had done in the restaurant.

It took him all but five minutes to finish his. You weren’t even at your cone yet.

You looked between your hand holding your ice cream and his empty one crumpling a napkin across the little circular table. Gesturing between them, you gave him a puzzled look.

“How?”

He just shrugged with a chuckle. You shook your head and continued to dive into your cone.

“Oh, hey- you’ve got something right there…”

He gestured to the side of his lip. Fighting off the embarrassment, you tried to wipe it off with your hand.

“Did I get it?”

He shook his head. You tried again. Whatever it was continued to elude you, leading Din to reach for a new napkin.

“May I?”

You laughed at your own helplessness and scooched your chair closer to him.

He met you halfway and wiped at the edge of your mouth. Even through the layers between you, his fingers burned into your skin. You couldn’t help staring at the concentrated expression he held, your muscles freezing up under his touch. He drew closer and continued on his mission to clear off the ice cream, though the napkin just felt dry against your skin. His thumb darted out to caress your cheek, and you gasped at the touch.

He had to stop teasing you like that. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself otherwise.

His gaze slowly made its way up from your lips until it met yours, his eyes giving you that familiar sensation of being effortlessly dissected.

How do his eyes do that, you wondered.

“… How do you do that?”

You may not have meant to voice your thoughts, but no regret followed.

“Do what?”

“it’s just that- I don’t know, every time you look at me, it’s like you’re staring into my soul.”

He let out a soft laugh.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you quickly added, “I’ve just never experienced it before.”

He leaned back the slightest bit, his hand falling from your face.

“You do something similar, you know. It’s like there’s…”

He leaned in again and squinted a bit, peering even deeper. You jumped a bit in your seat, the sudden proximity sending a jolt through your veins.

“… I can’t quite explain it, but they’re pretty incredible.”

His voice was soft and quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the moment.

You melted into his gaze, losing yourself chasing the shining stars that made up its inner galaxy. A deep warmth ran through you, and you couldn’t help smiling. He returned the expression, his eyes crinkling.

You could look at that face all night.

The rest of your ice cream sat abandoned in your hand, the slight sensation of it dripping onto your hand the only indication that anything else still existed.

“Oh-”

Din bounced back into action to clean you up, leaving you to careen back to Earth’s surface. The chatter of other customers, the faint music in the background, it all came rushing back too fast.

“Better get a jump on this if you don’t want to end up doused in ice cream soup,” he said with that beautiful grin.

It was hopeless. Hardly anything had happened, and yet… You were trapped in his orbit.

~~~~

Your throat was so sore by the time Din was driving you home, hours having passed by without you. You were certain you’d never talked to someone for so long before.

The fatigue was showing on his face as well, in the form of tired eyes and deeper sighs.

“I’m sorry to have kept you out so late,” you said.

“Oh, please, don’t be.” He stole a glance before returning his attention to the road. “I had a great time with you.”

Like a blanket straight from the dryer, you were wrapped in that sweet feeling again.

“Likewise.”

He smiled with his teeth for the briefest of moments.

Moments later he was pulling the car into park in front of your building and popping out to open your door one more time for the night.

You looked up to see him staring at the ground with his hand outstretched, that adorable red tint decorating his ears. You smiled and let him pull you out of the car, but this time he didn’t step away.

Your heartbeat quickened without your permission, sending a flurry of butterflies through your gut. You were craning your neck the slightest bit, eager to take in his features from this close up, despite the growing clamminess in your hands.

His gaze was slower to meet yours; he took his time examining you, starting from your shoes and working his way up. When he did catch your eyes, something in his stance deflated. And his smile once again took all the remaining breath from your lungs.

“I meant it,” he all but whispered, “I… had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” your voice came out quieter than intended, matching his. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

He gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Your smile was hurting your cheeks, but the pain was barely registering. The crisp night air whisked around you both, as if sweeping away everything else until all you could focus on was Din.

He took up your entire field of vision, your every sensation, each breath you tried to take.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder, giving yourself enough leverage to pull him towards you and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Your entire body was heating up, your lips tingling. His skin was so soft, the slight scratch of his stubble a pleasant sensation.

His eyes betrayed surprise, blinking a few times before regaining their focus. He gulped and looked back down to the ground between you both, the red tint stretching to his cheeks.

God, he was so cute.

A big gust of wind broke the moment, making you shiver. His face immediately shifted to concern.

“Oh, are you cold?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Just a bit. I guess that’s my cue.”

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and retrieving your leftovers from the car.

He closed the car door when you stepped away, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“Good night, Din. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you, giving a small nod in your direction.

“Good night.”

One last look at him before you forced your feet to start moving. Every instinct in you tried to pull you back to him, but you had to press on.

The heated building began to thaw you out, but it was nothing compared to him. You didn’t stop until you got to the elevator, the curb thankfully out of view to keep you from running right back outside.

Every moment, every feeling, it all came crashing down on you all at once. Right there inside the moving metal box. You had to lean against the wall to catch yourself.

What a night.

~~~~

Your apartment was dark. The city lights still penetrated through your windows, illuminating select areas and helping your brain adjust, but you were still left fumbling for the light switch.

Your movements were almost robotic as you toed off your shoes, put away your food, closed the curtains, and made your way to the bedroom. You plopped your purse down and stared at yourself in the mirror.

Okay, I’m wearing the dress, so none of that was a dream.

You changed into your nightwear and took a seat on the couch, blankly turning on the TV and letting the white noise fill the space.

Your mind was so overwhelmed with how much the two of you had spoken, yet it still didn’t feel like enough. By the end of it all, you still wished it didn’t have to end.

You brushed your fingers over your cheek, where the invisible indent of his hand still remained. Warm, strong, and soft – that’s how his hands felt. Just the memory of them had your skin tingling again.

Magic. It was the only word that could describe the night. Something about it all was just pure magic.

You sighed. You’d never been more eager to see someone again. To feel that enchanting bliss again. It seemed so foolish, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You lifted up your phone – it’d definitely be too much to message him now, no matter how much you wanted to. Some self-control had to be practiced.

You elected instead to put on Golden Girls, your muscles relaxing as the familiar score began to play. You reached over to your side table and pick up your most recent read: Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand. Funnily enough, the story involved a new love for the titular character.

But for the first time in a while, the pages went on without you. You made it through the first few pages before the train derailed. The words were there, your eyes moved over them, but you weren’t encoding a single one. Your mind’s eye projected those eyes, that suit, the gorgeous smile, all over the page.

You shook your head. Maybe if this chapter involved Jasmina rather than the discomforting country club group, it would apply more to your mind’s incessant stick to the topic of romance.

“Sorry, Major,” you whispered as you closed the book. “Even you can’t compete right now.”

The girls were chatting over cheesecake when you picked up your phone again, scrolling aimlessly until you decided the only way to calm yourself down enough to go to bed was to expel everything.

The phone only rang twice before Harley picked up, skipping every pleasantry and going right into the, “Tell me everything.”

~~~~

Luke turned to the next page in his book, readjusting in the chair as he did so.

The apartment had been quiet, blanketed in the yellow glow of Din’s floor lamp since Grogu fell asleep. The perfect backdrop to get engrossed in a book and forget where he was.

The one thing to break his trance was the gentle rustling of the front door. Luke looked up and checked his phone – the 11:55pm timestamp had him slightly recoiling in disbelief.

When Din walked through the door, Luke closed his book and gave him a smile.

“Welcome back,” he said, “How’d it go?”

Din shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it on the sofa. He plopped down, leaned on his knees, and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. When he sat back up, Luke noted the flush in his cheeks, the shine in his eyes, and couldn’t help grinning.

“That good, huh?”

Din shook his head.

“I don’t even know what happened. She’s… just incredible.”

Luke had never seen Din like this. Sure, he was quiet, but this was fully tongue-tied. A blissful tone was evident in his worn-out voice.

As quick as it came, though, it vanished. Din’s expression narrowed.

“Wait, how long has he been asleep?”

Ah. Dad mode was back.

“A few hours,” Luke said with a shrug. “It is almost midnight.”

Din straightened up.

“What? I was gone that long?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Djarin, he’s completely fine.”

“I’ve never missed bedtime on a day off. Are you sure he was okay?”

“Yes,” Luke said, moving to sit next to Din on the sofa. “I promise, he’s great. Besides, he goes to bed at eight. Even if you were home earlier, there’s no way you’d have been back that early.”

Din leaned back until he collided with the backrest, slightly shaking his head.

Luke internally sighed. Just when he thought the guilt would stay away…

He turned in his seat to face Din and got his attention with a hand to his shoulder.

“Mr. Djarin, listen to me. I want you to think about how you felt being out tonight. How you felt being on that date.”

Din eyed Luke before turning his gaze to his lap.

“You don’t have to say anything – just think.”

Din closed his eyes, his chest slowly inflating and deflating with deep breaths.

In the time he’d known Din, Luke had never seen him do anything for himself. Everything he ever did, he did for Grogu. It was hard to see him like this, almost punishing himself for the smallest deviation.

The best way out of this for now, Luke reasoned, was to reframe it in a way that included Grogu.

“Now, don’t you think Grogu would enjoy hearing about those feelings? Won’t it be nice to tell him all about this tomorrow?”

Din’s gaze rose back up to him.

“You’ll see for yourself, he’s going to love that you went out and did so much. He is going to love seeing you happy.”

Din gave a small nod, though there was still a hint of doubt in his expression. He sat up and let out a puff of air.

“Can I ask you something, Luke?”

Luke straightened up with a nod.

“Why are you helping me so much?”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked.

“I mean, I don’t understand why you’ve gone out of your way to do so much for me. Especially with all this date stuff.”

What an innocent soul he was. Luke smiled and shrugged.

“Because I want to.”

“But… why?”

Din looked genuinely puzzled. On the one hand, it was endearing, but on the other, Luke couldn’t help wondering why it was so hard for him to accept that people would just want to help him.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Djarin,” he started, “spending this much time together has made us friends. Friends help each other. If I needed something, we both know you’d be there for me. It’s the same both ways.”

Din’s expression relaxed a bit. A small grin pulled at his lips.

“Well, friend, I’m sorry to have kept you here all night.”

The swell of warmth that came from hearing Din call him a friend was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Luke gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“No worries, pal. I’m really glad you had such a good night.”

Din gave him a wider smile.

“You were right about getting there early,” he chuckled, “I did need the extra time.”

Luke laughed.

He sat back and listened as Din relayed parts of the night, pride growing within him with every moment, every story, every little hint of bashfulness and glee on Din’s face.

A happy Din was quite the sight to behold.

****

Additional notes: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson is one of my favorite books ever. Full stop. It's a beautiful, skillfully told story about an old man finding new meanings in life. The characters are so flushed out and amazing and they just tug at your heart. I am very picky about writing style and I just gotta say, Helen's is one of the most talented writers I've read. Only something like this date could've derailed my mind from her gorgeous words!!

latch taglist: @the-scandalorian @tobealostwanderer @captain-jebi @prismaticpizza @sunipostsstuff @jaa1682-27 @onebrownoneblue @kesskirata @fangirlalexia @tortles @girlofchaos @spideysimpossiblegirl @just-a-sewer-goblin @kotemorons @hotchlover

perm taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @christina-loves @librariantothejedi @literallydontlook @salome-c @dessinemoiunehistoire @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #latch

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fictioninmyblood · 22 hours ago

Text

King Consort pt. 3

Summary: ‘Queen of the Damned’ esq, Terry’s disciplined restraint awakens a queen of the damned. Maha, daughter of Akasha, is awoken on a half moon night when the sun kisses the moon in the light of day. After surviving the bloodshed and corruption of Shelby Springs without shedding the blood he wanted, Terry finds himself under the gaze of a goddess whose thirst for balance in all things can suddenly only be quenched by his company. How did he get here? Does he ever really wanna leave?

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, the snowball is starting to go downhill and outta my control, smut, this man is haunting my dreams.

A/N: Sorry yawl, this was supposed to be a short thing but the story is taking me on a journey now. Part 4 otw.

Terry made sure that Maha leaned against him with her back against his chest, staying silent until he felt her relax all the way. He had a feeling that she had only been showing him the tender care that she’d been missing for who knows how long. He was more than happy to soothe the hardness in him by gently cupping the softness of one of her breasts in one hand and her plush belly in the other. As she rested in his embrace, head reclined into the crook of his neck and her eyes closed, he watched as the furrow in her brow completely disappeared. He didn’t know why that was what finally got him to relax himself, but he was grateful for the ease that seemed to grace both of their souls. This intimacy was just what the doctor had ordered for them both. So they basked in it for a long while, lost to time moving forward for it felt that they had frozen it just to enjoy this moment.

“You know,” Terry said as he moved his hand from gently squishing her breast to grasping her throat to tilt her head up at him his other hand still resting against her womb, “I should know the name of the goddess that’s brought me all this way.”

“Maha, my king,” she rasped out, voice filled with yearning and lust as her eyes fluttered open to hold his gaze mirroring the emotions swirling within her.

He lifted the left side of his mouth in a half smirk, wondering what she had been imagining to sound like that.

“What does it mean love?”

Maha cleared her throat a little and tried to look away to gather herself unsuccessfully when Terry tightened his grip ever so slightly. “My parents named me after Ma’at, in a time when many new languages were arriving to Kemet. Arabic and Sanskrit had been popular at the time so my mother chose Maha which means half moon in one language and mighty in the other. She always told me that Ma’at was the epitome of a half moon, capable of simultaneously showing and hiding her might, as soft and unyielding as the water the moon controlled.” Maha gulped at the look in Terry’s eyes, she didn’t know how this explanation had riled him, but it added to the yearning that pulsed through her body.

“I don’t think they could’ve chosen a better name. You hold the keys to both heaven and hell, don’t you?”

Maha shrugged her way out of his arms, suddenly feeling on fire with the way he seemed to look through her, see her past without fear but fascination, and stood to try and regain the composure that seemed to constantly flee under his gaze, “I have my moments.” She chewed on her bottom lip and tried to think of how to get out of this intense moment, but wasn’t given much time to be able to. Terry followed her easily, holding her against him in the same way, one hand against where her womb lie and the other gently grasping her throat to lift her face to meet his own.

“No my queen, you do. I could tell with that first dream that you had been sent from the other side blessed by the natural balance of this universe. Then upon my arrival you washed me in that very balance, somehow rousing and appeasing both the restrained man I am and the beast I have struggled to keep under lock and key my entire life. You’ve already made living with this beast more bearable than anything or anyone I’ve tried until this point, wrapping us in all that you are so that we have come to a state of what I daresay is collective peace. I feel at home lil mama, something that has eluded me for far too long. I am blessed to be in your presence, let alone have the opportunity to bring you great pleasure, peace, and love - maybe one day even to become your protector.”

Her breath had quickened at his words. No man had ever saw her so clearly before, had welcomed the pleasure she could produce and the hell she could raise with such clarity and disregard for their own well-being. All she had told him was her name and he seemed to read the pages of her life and longing with just that. Everything this man did and said made her believe more and more that she had truly found her king. That realization terrified her for the first time in her life she thought, true fear was not a known emotion, she had walked in the pits of night before she was ever gifted immortality. It took entirely too long for her to identify this emotion of hopeful fear twisting its way through her veins, but once she had it became nearly unbearable.

Maha tried again to move out of Terry’s grasp, but his hold tightened the longer she not-so-subtly fought to remove herself from his embrace. Terry scrutinized her face as she continued this futile attempt to stop the moment they’d been having with no problems until she started obviously overthinking and was surprised to see tears being held at bay. What had he done in these last moments to have gotten his goddess so afraid all of sudden? Terry held her closer, tighter, moving his hand so that his entire arm wrapped around her torso. He enveloped her in him and he prayed that whatever he was made of could help this woman heal and trust that she could hope for a better forever. She could trust that he was the right man to hope for those dreams again with.

Her parents had given her the ultimate princess’ dream of life, even in the afterlife she was given choices and time to see that their love for each other survived. Blood spilled aside, they were a unit and that is the picture of her future she drew from as she finally accepted joining them. It had been the one thing she hoped to find for herself and she envied about her parents until her mother murdered him for some white boy and here this fine ass black man was making the nearly forgotten little girl awaken within. She always wanted a black prince, just like her baba and here the universe had brought a black king. Trying to escape the best way she knew how, she wondered if he could make his way up a tree to get her down just as her dad had done so many times.

Terry got out to put a towel around his waist and held one open for Maha as she got out, wrapping her up like a burrito with her arms tucked by her side. He easily scooped her into his arms and walked them into the bedroom, gently laying Maha onto the bed so he could grab the oil he seen her with earlier. Maha was trying to gently wiggle her way out of the towel to no avail when Terry came back into the room shouting a quick ‘aht aht’ that instantly stilled her movements, but quickened the heart rate in her pussy even more. God this man was making a mess of her and it was always when he wasn’t really doing anything. Maha didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Let me take care of you for a little bit mamas. No moving.” Terry said as he sat on the bed, dipping her body closer to him from the shift in weight.

“But you need to be taken care of more than me. You’re the human and I’m supposed to be doing that!” Maha whined. He was destroying all the plans she had of catering to him and getting him to really relax enough to give her the opportunity to see more of him than he’d usually show. Yes she wanted his beast but she had no idea how effective the subtle softness of how they were wrapped together to urge her towards submission was at producing results she’d never experienced. The more and more he drew her in with those fucking eyes that stormed like a hurricane in the bayous that had arrived from the islands the harder it was for her to try to even stop complying.

“This is you taking care of me,” Terry said with a smirk as he moved Maha with ease, somehow getting the towel from around her and turning her onto her stomach, all while keeping the towel tucked under her. He leaned in to peck the scrunch in between her eyebrows and said, “relax, please my queen, let me take care of you the way we want to.”

Maha’s pout quickly turned into a bite of her lip as Terry held eye contact leaning on one arm while he rubbed her butt with the other one. She started to look away but Terry was quick to catch her face and bring her eyes back to his.

“You know I got you, right?” he asked, maintaining that position, holding her face and rubbing that same asscheek.

They held that moment for what seemed like forever to Maha, she felt as if he was filling in a picture of what the rest of the universe that she hadn’t seen yet looked like, just by being the one to have her here, like this, as a human. A unique and well match indeed if she’d yet to exchange any kind of offerings and they had only just started. Just as the rest of her thoughts were helping her run away from her body and how he seemed to have her locked in a spell, Terry lifted his hand and popped her hard as hell. The glazed look she once had locked back into the moment and refocused on those fucking eyes and it took all the millenia she had survived to control her body from cumming. By the time she opened her eyes again, not remembering that she had even closed them, Terry had a self-satisfied smirk that did not bode well for her future. Where the fuck has this man been all her life?

Terry calmly went back to massaging that same cheek as he continued on like he didn’t just probably leave a bruise and almost make her cum without using all of his strength but still more than he’s probably used on anyone else. “That’s okay my goddess,” he kissed the spot that was still tingling, “I’m a different kind of man,” his voice turned almost unrecognizably gruff, “and I have a different kind of a beast.” He pulled away and said, “now you just lay right there and let me work mama.”

As he stood holding eye contact and grasped his towel with an, “I mean it mama,” Maha gulped and nodded. She was not prepared for the growth that Terry seemed to have had since last she got a close look at his crown jewels. Everything about him seemed…

“I’m just gonna get myself first.”

“But-”

“Aht, you got me earlier, it’s my turn now,” Terry continued as he oiled his body and stretched a little while he watched Maha as she looked at him and got a gradually thirstier and thirstier by the look in her eyes.

“But my king, I still need to feed you the food I prepared!” Maha whined a little more earning a hard glare and internal promise to himself to add to her punishments for the evening.

“You will be feeding me everything you prepared for me.”

Maha gulped again at the way he emphasized ‘everything’ while maintaining eye contact and oiling his very full and definitely throbbing dick and balls. She wanted him to empty everything into her, to take his seed and keep it and him warm. Now! But As she stared him and that beautiful body down from head to toe, he was going to make her wait for both.

“Yes my king.”

Terry was pleased with his handiwork but he was scared too. He never lets Shadow out of his cage unless it’s absolutely necessary but Shadow was urging him to, she was worth it, she was necessary. It seemed too easy to him, especially since it was so hard to keep his cape buffalo side, a gift from his father, pleased enough to accept any woman. He’d had a short, albeit wild history considering that he was half were and not usually accepted by other supernatural beings. They always underestimated him, she didn’t though he thought as he looked at her with his arms folded and his eyes doing everything they could to pierce her soul.

“My king? May I ask a question.” Maha asked externally while internally, she was wondering what the hell happened to her voice. It was all whispery and meek, like she could be crushed beneath this mere man. Was he a man?

“Oh, now you want to ask me for permission. My goddess, I am happy to cater to you and I am truly glad that you’re already self-correcting, but tonight we’re going to have a conversation about boundaries and permission.”

“Yes my king, but may I still ask?” She looked up at him with this heartbreakingly sweet and soft look combined with a voice that was making him leak from his tip and a piece of his heart leak through the cracks in his beast.

He growled out, “fine,” but it was her responding bright smile and ‘thank you’ that nearly made the man completely buckle and worship at her feet.

“Is there a reason you’re getting bigger my king? I wasn’t sure of it earlier, but something is definitely different and your blood was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted or been able to be sustained from. I hadn’t realized it since it’s been so long.”

He smiled at her observations. “I was wondering if you would notice. Have you come across any weres in your time?”

She smiled and nodded.

“I’m only half were so it presents especially when I’m ready to mate and other special occasions,” he said eyeing the entirety of her being. Usually I’d be afraid to let Shadow out like this but I have a feeling you’ve been waiting for him as much as me.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she answered with a tone and twin smoldering look that nearly lit his restraint on fire.

Fed up with her teasing tugs on control of what happened next, Terry moved to her otherside and gave her left asscheek the same treatment as the right. He was pleased that she held herself together cause that smack came with a little more Shadow than the last one.

“I’m glad to see you were listening to the lesson. We’ll do very well little one if you keep up this good girl behaviour.”

Terry got on top of Maha, letting his dick slide between her cheeks and transfer some of the oil from him onto her, half holding himself up with one hand in a one-handed pushup while he held her throat tightly, squeezing the sides and asserting the right pressure to have her eyes go rolling.

“But you keep testing the boundaries anymore, keep pushing my limits, keep poking the beast, you gon’ fuck around and find out. But when I give it to you so good you can’t speak, I don’t wanna hear or feel nothing other than you taking it, I make myself clear?” Terry finished with one lick up the side of her face and a bite to her jaw.

Maha nodded and tried not to wiggle or cum or even breath too hard. This was a certainly a well match.

#fictioninmyblood #fictioninmybloodworks #black fanfic writer #black!oc #terry richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond x black!oc #king consort

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