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aligned-starz · 7 months ago

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Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott

⋆｡°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n

Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.

Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆｡°✩

Word Count : 2,210

"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.

"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct.

"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."

Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.

"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?"

Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours.

"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.."

Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.

"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."

Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.

As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.

Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.

"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.

Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.

"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned.

As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.

So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.

"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.

Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.

"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.

"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/n nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.

Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?

The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.

Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.

Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.

"Y/n?"

She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.

From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.

She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."

But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."

The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.

The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?

"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."

Y/n's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/n couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."

He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.

"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."

Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.

"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.

But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.

In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.

And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.

"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.

"What about Daphne?"

The regret on his face morphed into confusion.

"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.

"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.

"What? Daphne likes Blaise."

"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.

"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"

Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.

"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."

The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.

"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."

With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.

⋆｡°✩

Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx

[my masterlist⋆｡°✩]

#theo nott #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #fanfiction #fluff #light angst #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x y/n #slytherin #harry potter #oneshot

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azrielbrainrot · 10 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Whether in the solitude of his room or surrounded by family, all Azriel can think about is you. He would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide

Word Count: 3652

Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.

He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.

On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.

Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.

It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.

Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.

He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.

He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.

He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.

He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.

Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.

Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?

Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.

Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.

They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.

He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.

Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.

Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.

The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.

To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.

He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.

“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.

“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.

Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.

Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.

Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.

When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.

As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.

Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.

Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.

She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.

This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.

It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.

You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.

Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.

He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.

“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.

“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.

“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.

“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.

It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.

When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #divider by saradika

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mononijikayu · 3 months ago

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pretending as always — ryomen sukuna.

"Sukuna." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Do you ever think about us? About how things used to be?" He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if the answer was written somewhere in the shadows. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. "Things change. People change." "I know, I know." you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his hand resting on your waist. "But I miss it. I miss us. The way we were before… everything."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, cheating, unhappy marriage, crying, hurt, sadness, pain, character death, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of broken marriage, depiction of grief, depiction of cheating, depiction of death, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of misery, mention of loneliness, cheating husband! sukuna, long suffering wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 10k words

NOTE: the thought bubble says 'things change, people change.'; the playlist for this chapter alone was just so angsty. like from i'm not the only one to glimpse of us, i really went through it writing this. i decided to write only one sad fic because i feel like putting out casual, together and thirty nine almost at the same time was just really criminal of me to do. so i hope you enjoy this, though!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 900;

if you want to, tip! <3

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ANOTHER HUFF RELEASES FROM YOUR MOUTH. You don’t remember how many you’ve smoked today. But you were sure that it was beyond one pack. This was the only time you could be alone, to think for yourself. To have control. The control you’ve been craving for years and years, one that you will never truly have again. You didn’t need someone to see you out here, to tell you no, to worry about your health. You didn’t need that. Not right now. You needed to be alone. You needed silence.

You sat on the balcony of your lavish penthouse, gazing out at the shimmering lights of Tokyo. The city was alive, vibrant, a testament to the empire your husband, Ryomen Sukuna, had built. He was the man behind the biggest conglomerate in Japan—a titan in the world of business, feared and respected in equal measure. And you were his wife.

Once upon a time, you had been someone too. A doctor with a promising career, surrounded by friends, fulfilled by the life you had created with your own hands. Your days were spent saving lives, making a difference, and your nights were filled with laughter and tenderness with colleagues who had become family. You were driven, passionate, and proud of the work you did. But now, as you sat in the lap of luxury, the woman you once were seemed like a distant memory.

Now, you were just his wife.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him—you did. You loved him more than words could express. Sukuna was everything to you, and being his wife brought a kind of happiness you hadn’t known was possible. Yet, there was a gnawing emptiness, a void that had grown over the years. As much as you loved him, as much as he adored you in his own way, you knew the truth.

Ryomen Sukuna was not a man who could be kept down, not even for you. He was a force of nature, unstoppable, always striving for more, always looking beyond what he already had. His ambition was a double-edged sword, driving him to unimaginable heights but also pushing him further away from the simple life you sometimes yearned for.

There were nights when he didn’t come home, when he was out sealing deals or attending extravagant parties where you were merely an accessory. You’d watch him from a distance, surrounded by admirers, his presence commanding attention wherever he went. He thrived in that world of power and influence, and you knew that no matter how much he loved you, that world would always be his first love.

You tried to be content with the life you had with him. After all, you had everything most people could only dream of—wealth, status, and the affections of a man who could have had anyone but chose you. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had lost yourself in the process. You weren’t the doctor anymore, the woman with her own dreams and aspirations. You were simply Mrs. Ryomen Sukuna, a title that came with its own set of expectations and sacrifices.

As the night grew darker, you wondered what it would take to feel like yourself again. Could you ever reclaim the life you had before Sukuna, or had you given up too much to ever go back? And if you did, would you lose him in the process? It was a question that haunted you, even as you curled up in the luxurious sheets of your bed, waiting for him to return home. You loved him. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough.

Your husband was a man to love—eccentric and electric, a living embodiment of wonder wrapped in the form of a man. His presence was magnetic, a force that drew people in, leaving them captivated by his every word, his every move. Ryomen Sukuna was a personality larger than life, his energy palpable, his enigma undeniable. He filled every room he entered, his laughter loud and contagious, a stark contrast to his own brother, Jin, who was quiet, composed, and unassuming.

Where Jin blended into the background, Sukuna demanded attention. Everyone who met him felt the spark, the electricity that seemed to radiate from him. He was unpredictable, always a step ahead, always thinking of the next big thing. His mind worked in ways that left others in awe, trying to keep up with the whirlwind that was his thoughts and ideas. Loving him was like holding onto a storm—thrilling, dangerous, and consuming.

But for all his vibrance and charm, Sukuna was still a man of cold realities. His work came first, always. No matter how much you wanted to be his priority, the empire he built was what he poured most of his energy into. He was often distant, consumed by the responsibilities that came with being the man at the top. Days would pass where you barely saw him, where his presence in your life felt more like a memory than a reality.

Yet, when he did give you his time, it was genuine and honest. Those rare moments were when you saw the man beneath the mask, the one who cared for you in his own complicated way. His touch was real, his words sincere, and in those fleeting minutes, you felt the depth of his love, even if it was buried under layers of ambition and duty.

There were nights, though, when he would come to bed, slipping under the covers beside you, and in those moments, he was truly yours. Those were the times you held onto, the nights where the world outside his office door ceased to exist, where the only thing that mattered was the feel of his warmth next to you.

His arm around your waist, his breath on your neck—these were the small, intimate moments that made the loneliness bearable. In the quiet of the night, Sukuna would pull you close, and for those few hours, he was just a man who loved his wife, not the untouchable titan he had become during the day.

But as the dawn approached, you knew he would slip away again, back into the world that demanded so much of him. Those nights were a bittersweet reminder that while he was yours, you would never fully have him. Still, you cherished them, holding onto the hope that maybe one day, the man who captivated the world would find his way back to you, not just in the shadows of the night, but in the light of day as well.

If you tried slyly, you could sometimes extract details about his life—small, fragmented pieces of the puzzle that was Ryomen Sukuna. A hint here, a passing comment there. But even after so many years of marriage, he wouldn’t budge.

He was a vault, his thoughts locked away in a place you couldn’t reach, no matter how hard you tried. There were times you sat across from him, watching his expressions, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind those sharp eyes, but he was impenetrable. You didn’t know what he was thinking half the time.

And as the years passed, you began to realize a painful truth: you didn’t know this man anymore. He wasn’t the man you fell in love with, the one who had promised you the world with that charming smile and infectious energy. That man was a memory, fading with every passing day. The man you were married to now was a stranger, someone who wore Sukuna’s face but carried a weight and distance that hadn’t been there before. He was no longer wholly yours, not anymore.

But when he was—on those rare occasions when he let you in, when the walls came down just enough for you to feel the warmth beneath his cold exterior—those moments were everything. His exterior remained hard, a shield against the world and perhaps even against you, but in the quiet darkness of your bedroom, he softened.

The bed you shared became a pure and sacred shrine, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach, where only you and he existed. In that space, the burdens he carried were set aside, and for a fleeting moment, he was just a man, your husband, the one who still held pieces of your heart.

The warmth of his body against yours, the way he would pull you close as if you were his anchor—these were the moments that reminded you of the love that still lingered between you. It was as if, in that bed, time stood still, and the distance that had grown between you disappeared, leaving only the two of you, as you once were.

And though those moments were few and far between, they were enough to keep you holding on, hoping that perhaps, one day, the man you fell in love with would return to you, not just in the night, but in every aspect of your life together.

You lay beside him in the dark, feeling the weight of the silence between you. His arm was draped over your waist, his grip firm but gentle. It was one of those rare nights when he was fully present, when the business world he ruled seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. You turned slightly, your face inches from his, searching his eyes for something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you.

"Sukuna." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Do you ever think about us? About how things used to be?"

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if the answer was written somewhere in the shadows. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost resigned. "Things change. People change."

"I know, I know." you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his hand resting on your waist. "But I miss it. I miss us. The way we were before… everything."

His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker there—regret, maybe, or a trace of the man you once knew. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that familiar unreadable expression.

"I’m still here. I always have been." he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I never left. And you know that."

"Physically, yes, I know. But I just….It’s just." you murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. "Sukuna, it’s like I don’t know you anymore. You’re not the man I married. You’re not the man who promised me the world. And I don’t know where he is. And I want him back.”

He didn’t flinch, but you felt the slight tension in his arm as he pulled you a little closer. "The world isn’t what it used to be. It won’t ever be what it was, you know that." he replied quietly. "And neither am I. And you know that too. But I’m still here. I’m still your husband.”

You sighed, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "But when you’re here, like this… it’s different. For just a moment, it feels like nothing’s changed. Like it’s just you and me, the way it used to be. I wish we could stay here, like this, forever."

He didn’t respond right away, but you felt his grip on you tighten, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as if to reassure you. "This bed, our bed…." he said slowly, his voice rougher than usual, "it’s our sanctuary. It’s the one place I can forget about everything else. But you know I can’t stay here forever. Not when the world calls me, not when it needs me.”

"I know that." you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. You needed him too. You needed your husband. And he will never see it. Not even when he tries. "But I can’t help wishing you would. That maybe, just once, you’d choose me over everything else. Like you used to.”

He was silent for a long moment, his breath warm against your hair. When he finally spoke, there was a softness in his voice that you rarely heard. "If I could, I would. You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me I’m still human. But I can’t give you all of me. Not anymore. I have things to do too.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall silently. "I just wish… I wish you’d let me in, Sukuna. I want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. I want to know the man I’m sharing this bed with."

He didn’t answer right away, and you knew he wouldn’t. Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a rare, tender gesture. "I’m here now, you know?" he whispered. "Let’s just… stay in this moment, just for tonight."

You nodded, unable to find the words to say anything more. You clung to him, holding onto the warmth of his body, the rare softness of his embrace, knowing that when morning came, he would be gone again—pulled back into the world that demanded so much of him. But for now, you had this, and it would have to be enough.

It sounds more romantic than it actually is in reality. What you shared with Sukuna was far from the idyllic love story others might imagine. It was a volatile existence, a solitary one. A lonely existence. There were no whispered secrets in the dark, no playful banter or stolen glances across the room. There were no soft gazes filled with unspoken affection, no tender moments that lingered long after they ended. With Sukuna, you got the raw, unfiltered version of him—a man stripped of any pretense or facade.

Sukuna was not a man of many words, and that held true even during the most intimate moments between you. He was silent, his focus intense, his mind seemingly elsewhere even as he was with you. There were no sweet nothings exchanged, no promises of forever whispered into your ear. He was a man of action, not words, and even less so when you were in bed together.

Yet, despite the lack of verbal communication, there was one thing he always maintained—eye contact. His gaze never wavered, never strayed from yours, and in those moments, you saw something in his eyes that you rarely saw anywhere else. His eyes were earnest, and that sincerity was the closest thing to vulnerability he ever allowed himself to show. It was as if, in those brief moments of connection, he was telling you without words what he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud.

But even that small comfort was fleeting, a temporary solace in a relationship that often felt more like a battle than a partnership. You loved him, but it was a love laced with pain and longing, a love that left you feeling more alone than ever. Because while his eyes might have been honest, they also held a distance that you couldn’t bridge, a reminder that even in his most vulnerable moments, Sukuna was still just out of reach.

So you took what you could get—the warmth of his body against yours, the rare tenderness in his gaze—and tried to ignore the aching loneliness that gnawed at you in the silence that followed. Because at the end of the day, you knew that this was the only version of Sukuna you would ever truly have. And for better or worse, you had to make peace with that.

You lay there in the quiet aftermath, your body still humming from the intensity of it all. But as the warmth began to fade, reality seeped back in. The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid. There was no gentle touch, no soft embrace to pull you closer. Sukuna remained beside you, but there was a distance, an unspoken barrier that kept you apart even when you were lying inches away from each other.

This was your life—a series of fleeting connections punctuated by long stretches of solitude. You had learned to navigate this existence, to find comfort in the small moments, even if they were far from the grand romance you had once imagined. But it was a lonely existence, one that often left you feeling hollow, as if a piece of you had been carved out and left behind somewhere along the way.

There was no pillow talk with Sukuna, no lingering in the soft afterglow. Not like it used to be, when you greeted the morning light talking and talking. The man beside you was not one for such things. He was not the type to reach out and hold you close, to whisper sweet reassurances that everything would be okay. He simply wasn’t built that way, and you had long since stopped expecting him to be.

Instead, there was just the raw version of him—the man who was silent in his love, who showed it in ways that were hard to decipher, in ways that often left you questioning if it was there at all. His love wasn’t gentle or easy; it was fierce, consuming, and at times, almost indifferent. But it was there, hidden beneath layers of responsibility, power, and the iron will that had made him who he was.

Sukuna’s eyes were the only place where you could see that truth, where you could catch a glimpse of the man beneath the exterior. Even during sex, when his body was moving against yours with a deliberate intensity, his eyes stayed locked on yours, never wavering.

There was something disarming in that gaze, something that spoke of an honesty he couldn’t express any other way. It was in those moments, brief as they were, that you felt a connection, a thread of intimacy that tied you to him, even if it was fragile and frayed.

But as much as you clung to those moments, they were never enough to fill the void. The bed, which had once felt like a sanctuary, now seemed more like a cold, empty place where two strangers shared space but not lives. You would turn to face him, hoping for something—a word, a touch, anything to bridge the gap—but he remained still, his mind already miles away, lost in thoughts you could never reach.

And so you would close your eyes, trying to hold onto the fleeting warmth of his body next to yours, trying to convince yourself that this was enough, that you could live with the silence, the loneliness, the distance. Because at the end of the day, he was still the man you loved, the man who had once promised you the world.

But that promise had faded, just like the warmth that now ebbed away in the cold, empty silence of the room. And as much as it hurt, you knew that this was all there would ever be—a man you could never fully have, a love that was always just out of reach, and a life lived in the spaces between what was and what could have been.

You cry a lot about how life has let you suffer this way. The tears come in waves, usually in the quiet hours of the night when the weight of it all feels too heavy to bear. You cry for the life you thought you would have, for the love that feels like it's slipping through your fingers, for the man who promised you everything but gave you only fragments. The pain of it all has become a constant companion, a dull ache that lingers even in your happiest moments, because you know, deep down, that things will never be what you once dreamed they could be.

You knew about the women. You’ve always known. The whispers that reached your ears, the subtle changes in his demeanor, the way he would smell of a perfume that wasn’t yours. You knew about the women he took to hotels, the ones he wined and dined in the finest restaurants, the ones he spoiled with gifts and attention that you used to believe were reserved for you alone. You knew about the strip clubs, the fleeting kisses at bars, the meaningless trysts that filled the void you couldn’t seem to reach.

But knowing and seeing were two different things.

The image before you feels like a knife to the gut, twisting with a cruel precision. She’s beautiful, laughing at something Sukuna has whispered into her ear. They’re sitting too close, his hand resting on her thigh as though it belongs there.

His expression is relaxed, the mask he wears with you completely gone. This is who he really is, you think to yourself. You could feel this bitter realization curling in your chest. You feel like you were going to be sick.

For a moment, your legs threaten to give way beneath you. The restaurant is dimly lit, the low hum of conversation and clinking silverware suddenly drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. You’ve been here before. It’s one of his favorites—one you thought was yours too, where he used to look at you with that same easy smile.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, urging you to flee, to turn away before the pain can deepen. You take a step back, and then another, the darkness of the entrance swallowing you whole as you move further from the scene. It’s as if you’re in a dream, your body moving on autopilot, one step after another, until you’re out on the street, the cool night air hitting your skin like a jolt.

You keep walking, eyes unfocused, the city lights blurring into a haze of colors. The truth is, you don’t know where you’re going. All you know is that you can’t stop moving. Because if you stop, if you allow yourself to think, to feel, the walls you’ve built around your heart will collapse, and you’ll be left with nothing but the agony of what you’ve lost. Or perhaps, of what you never truly had.

You knew everything. And yet, you pretended as always, especially when he came home. Because he always did. No matter how many nights he spent in the arms of someone else, no matter how many times he broke your heart with his affairs, he always came home to you. And you clung to that, as painful as it was, because it was the one thing you had left—the knowledge that, for whatever reason, he chose to come back to you.

And you pathetically clung to that, as painful as it was, because it was the one thing you had left—the knowledge that, for whatever reason, he chose to come back to you. That he'll always choose to come back to you. And only you.

The sound of his key turning in the lock was your cue to slip the mask into place, smoothing out the cracks in your facade. You could hear the soft rustle of his coat as he shrugged it off, the faint smell of that foreign perfume clinging to the air. It was like a slap in the face, but you swallowed the bitterness down, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“Hey.” he called out, his voice casual, as though nothing were amiss. As though he hadn’t just spent hours with someone else.

“Hey.” you replied, keeping your tone light, as if you hadn’t been waiting in silence, wondering who he was with, what she looked like, if she made him laugh the way you used to.

He stepped into the room, his gaze brushing over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the couch with a book in your hands. It was a scene of domestic tranquility, one you’d perfected over the years. You’d become a master at hiding the turmoil beneath the surface, at pretending that everything was fine.

“How was your night?” you asked, the words slipping out easily, as if they weren’t laced with the weight of unspoken truths.

“Busy.” he replied, moving toward you. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him, to savor the warmth of his presence. This was the part you held onto—the part where he came home, where he chose you, if only for a few fleeting hours. “Did a lot of meetings. It was dull. Like always.”

But even as he pulled away and headed to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel the coldness seep back in, the emptiness that settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew he’d be gone again tomorrow, off to chase whatever thrill he found in the arms of someone else.

Still, you clung to that tiny thread of hope, the one that told you he would return. Because as long as he came home, as long as he kept choosing you, there was a part of you that could pretend—pretend that it was enough, that you were enough. You knew that you were tearing yourself apart. Apart from this man. But you were stuck. You didn’t know how to get out. Not when you can’t bear separation.

It was a cruel cycle, one that left you feeling shattered and hollow, but one you couldn’t break free from. You pretended because it was easier than confronting the truth, easier than acknowledging that the man you loved was also the man who was tearing you apart. You pretended because you wanted to believe that, despite everything, there was still something left between you, something worth holding on to.

Because as much as he hurt you, as much as he used other women to fill whatever void he was running from, you knew one thing with absolute certainty: he loved you. He might have been distant, cold, and unfaithful, but that love was there, buried beneath the layers of deceit and betrayal. It was a twisted, painful love, one that hurt more than it healed, but it was real. And that’s what made it so hard to walk away.

He loved you, and it hurt you. It hurt because that love wasn’t enough to stop him from seeking out others, from indulging in pleasures that had nothing to do with you. It hurt because that love didn’t protect you from the heartache, didn’t shield you from the loneliness that came from sharing a bed with someone who was only half there.

But it was love nonetheless, a sick, unadulterated, gut-wrenching love you can never truly escape even if you wanted to. and you clung to it with everything you had, because without it, you weren’t sure who you would be anymore.

So you cried, and you pretended, and you waited for him to finish his shower, knowing that when he did, you would smile, you would act as if nothing was wrong, as if your heart wasn’t breaking a little more each day. Because you loved him, too, and that love was the only thing holding you together, even as it threatened to tear you apart.

The stairs creaked with every step, and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You knew the routine by now—how to mask the pain, how to put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the steps, and you braced yourself, slipping into the role you had perfected over the years. He’d gotten out of the shower and dressed.

Sukuna walked back into the living room, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable as he walked in front of you. You could still smell the faint scent of a perfume that wasn’t yours, the remnants of a night you knew all too well. It was as if he was mocking you. It was as if he wanted you to know. But you didn’t say anything. You never did.

“Did you have dinner yet?” you ask him, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “There’s still some soba I made for dinner.”

He hums in response, reaching for your hand, his touch warm but somehow distant. “Maybe later, I’ll heat it up myself. Let me stay here with you for a bit.”

You nod, pretending to be satisfied with his answer, even though you know it’s a lie. “Okay, that’s fine.”

You make some space for him to sit beside you, but instead, he lowers his head onto your lap, his body stretching out along the couch. The gesture is familiar, almost comforting, but tonight, it feels like a weight pressing down on your chest. You feel the bile rise in your throat as he closes his eyes, humming softly to himself, as if this moment is as peaceful for him as it is tormenting for you.

You force your fingers to move, to edge along the tips of his fuchsia-colored hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. The motion is automatic, a habit born from nights like these, where you pretended that everything was still okay. But as you purse your lips into a tight line, trying to keep your composure, you feel the tears threatening to spill over, the pain clawing at the walls you’ve built around your heart.

Not now, you tell yourself. Not now. You can’t break, not here, not while he’s with you.

You swallow hard, pushing down the surge of emotions that threaten to rise to the surface, and speak in a voice you barely recognize as your own. “You worked hard.”

He opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours in the dim light of the room. “So did you.” he whispers, his tone soft, almost tender.

His words, if they were meant to comfort you, only deepen the ache inside you. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, forcing a small, hollow smile as you continue to stroke his hair. Because that’s all you can do—pretend that this moment is enough, that his presence here is enough to make up for all the nights he’s been away, all the lies you’ve told yourself just to keep going.

He closes his eyes again, sighing softly, and you watch him, your fingers never faltering in their gentle rhythm. And as you sit there, with his head in your lap and the soba cooling on the kitchen counter, you realize that this is what you’ve become—someone who is willing to live in the spaces he leaves behind, someone who clings to the small moments he offers, even when they’re built on a foundation of lies.

“I missed you, Sukuna.” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

“I know.” he replied to you, in a tone that knows. A tone that reveals it all. He knew that you know, you weren’t a fool. You were too smart for it. And yet, here you are. With him, his lying, selfish self, loved by you. “I’m here now.”

You nodded, knowing that was the most you would get from him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

He didn’t respond, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing, his breathing becoming more relaxed. You knew this was as close as he would come to letting you in, and you tried to take comfort in it, even though it wasn’t enough.

You lay there in silence, your hand still resting on his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much it hurt, how much you wished things could be different. But you knew it wouldn’t change anything. He would always come home, but he would never truly be yours.

So you stayed quiet, pretending for him, for yourself, for the fragile love that still tied you to him, even as it slowly unraveled. You pretended that this was enough, that the fleeting moments of closeness were worth the nights spent alone, the tears shed in silence, the knowledge that he would never be wholly yours.

And in the dark, as you lay beside him, you let yourself believe the lie, if only for a little while. Because sometimes, pretending was the only thing that kept you going.

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EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN YOU HEARD THOSE WORDS. The doctor's words echoed in your mind as you drove home, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. "A few months, at most," he'd said, and you'd nodded, thanked him even, before walking out of the clinic in a daze. The sky outside seemed unchanged, the world continuing its indifferent spin, while inside you, something had irrevocably shifted.

When you finally made it home, you sat down, the weight of everything settling onto your shoulders like a heavy blanket. The familiar surroundings seemed distant, like you were seeing them through a fog. The elegant decor, the soft lighting—everything was perfect, just as it always was, but it felt like a set piece now, like something you were watching from afar.

You tried to think of what you should do next, what anyone would do with such news. Should you cry? Scream? But nothing came. Instead, a strange sense of calm washed over you, like the stillness after a storm. Maybe this was it—God's way of freeing you from this misery, this life you’d never truly lived.

A miserable existence, that’s what it was. A life spent in the shadow of Ryomen Sukuna, the man who was everything to everyone, and nothing to you. The man who had captured your heart and soul, only to lock them away somewhere deep inside, where they withered, starved of the love you so desperately needed. You’d given everything to be his wife, to play the part in the perfect narrative he’d constructed, and in the process, you’d lost yourself.

The relief that bubbled up inside you was unexpected, but undeniable. You wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. No more pretending, no more aching for a love that would never be yours. No more nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why you weren’t enough. Soon, it would all be over. You wouldn’t have to endure this life, this love, for much longer.

You decided then and there—you wouldn’t tell him. What would be the point? He was a man consumed by his empire, by his power, and you were just another piece of his world, another part of his success. Telling him would only disrupt the perfect narrative he had written for himself, and you couldn’t bear to see the indifference in his eyes when he realized that your story was ending.

No, you would continue to be his wife. You would play your part until the very end, letting yourself fade quietly from the narrative, just as you had faded from his heart. And maybe, when it was all over, when you were gone, he might feel something—a twinge of regret, perhaps. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

In the stillness of your home, a peculiar sense of peace enveloped you. The silence was heavy, but it was a silence of your own making, one that spoke of an end and a release. You had loved Sukuna with a depth that was both profound and consuming. Your love for him was a force that had shaped your days and your nights, driving you to care for him in ways that went unnoticed and unappreciated.

But as you faced the reality of your impending departure, a bittersweet calm settled over you. The weight of your unrequited love, the fatigue of constantly giving without receiving, was finally lifting. You had poured your heart into a relationship where your love was met with indifference and infidelity. You had tried to make him see, tried to make him understand, but in the end, the love you gave was never truly reciprocated in the way you had hoped.

Now, as the days dwindle and the finality of your situation becomes undeniable, you found a strange comfort in knowing that the end was near. The thought of liberation from a love that had only ever been one-sided was both heart-wrenching and soothing. You were tired of the endless cycle of giving and waiting, of hoping for something that would never come. And in the quiet of your home, you felt a sense of relief at the prospect of being free from this endless cycle of emotional exhaustion.

That night, when Sukuna returned home, you greeted him with a facade of normalcy. Despite the heavy burden of your knowledge, you smiled at him with a warmth that belied your inner turmoil. You continued to dote on him, serving him his favorite dishes with the same loving care you always had. Every gesture, every touch, every look was a continuation of the role you had played for so long.

You carried on as if nothing had changed, maintaining the pretense of a happy, loving wife. Your actions were deliberate, a final testament to the depth of your love and the extent of your sacrifice. You wanted to give him one last glimpse of the love he had taken for granted, to remind him of what he would be losing, even if he would never fully grasp it until it was too late.

You went through the motions of daily life, engaging with him, listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes. The facade was not just for him, but for yourself as well—a way to preserve a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of your emotions. You wanted to leave him with the memory of a wife who had loved him deeply, who had cared for him until the very end, despite everything.

In the quiet moments alone, after he had gone to bed, you would sit in the darkness, feeling the weight of your impending departure. You would reflect on the years you had spent loving him, on the moments of joy and sorrow that had shaped your relationship. And as you faced the end, you found a strange sort of solace in knowing that you would finally be free from the constraints of a love that had never truly been mutual.

The peace you felt was not without pain, but it was a relief nonetheless. You had loved Sukuna with all that you were, and now, as you prepared to leave, you took comfort in the knowledge that you would soon be free from the sadness and longing that had defined your existence.

Sukuna looked up from his plate, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He could see a flicker of something in your eyes that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“You seem... unusually happy tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of both surprise and suspicion. “Is something going on?”

You met his gaze, a faint smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s been a long time since we had a dinner like this, just the two of us.”

Sukuna’s brow furrowed as he studied you. “Yeah, it has. We’ve been so wrapped up in our own worlds that it’s easy to forget what it was like before everything got so complicated.”

You nodded, your fingers nervously twisting the edge of your napkin. “I’ve missed this—being with you like this, without all the distractions and complications. It feels like a rare moment of normalcy in the chaos.”

Sukuna’s expression softened, but there was an edge of concern in his eyes. “You seem more at peace than usual. Is everything okay? You’ve been acting... different lately.”

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “I’ve just been reflecting on things. It’s strange how time changes everything, how we lose sight of what really matters until it’s almost too late.”

Sukuna’s gaze grew more intense, his unease palpable. “Reflecting on what? You’ve been acting like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “It’s just... I’ve been thinking about how we’ve lost touch with each other. How we’ve let life get in the way of what really matters.”

Sukuna’s eyes searched for yours, trying to grasp the depth of your words. “Are you saying there’s something wrong? Something you’re not telling me?”

You looked away, your smile faltering. “It’s not about something wrong. It’s about realizing that sometimes, we need to appreciate the moments we have, even if they’re fleeting.”

Sukuna’s confusion deepened, his concern growing. “You’re scaring me. Why are you talking like this? What’s going on?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, your heart aching with the weight of the truth you couldn’t reveal. “I’ve just been feeling... reflective. It’s hard to explain, but I’m grateful for these moments, even if they’re all we have left.”

Sukuna reached out, his hand gently grasping yours. “Are you trying to tell me something? You’re acting like this is a goodbye.”

You pulled your hand away, the pain in your chest almost unbearable. “It’s not a goodbye. It’s just... a realization. I want to make the most of the time we have, to cherish these moments together.”

Sukuna’s face fell, his worry evident. “You’re making it sound like something terrible is happening. If there’s something you’re hiding, you need to tell me.”

You shook your head, forcing yourself to smile through the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s not about hiding anything. It’s about acknowledging that even when things are difficult, we can still find moments of happiness. I wanted tonight to be one of those moments.”

Sukuna looked at you with a mixture of sadness and confusion, his frustration clear. “You’re not making any sense. Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

You stood up from the table, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer. You smiled at him. And even at that moment, he noticed. He noticed it didn’t go up to your eyes. “I can’t. Not yet. I just needed you to understand that despite everything, I’ve always cherished our time together.”

Sukuna watched you with a heart heavy with concern and regret, as you walked away from the table. "Do you still want some wine?"

"No." Sukuna whispers under his breath. "I'm fine."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

YOU WERE GOOD AT PLAYING ROLES. Sukuna didn't suspect a thing. You continued playing your part, showing up at events, smiling when required, and being the perfect wife that the world expected you to be. He remained oblivious, too wrapped up in his own world to notice the subtle changes—the way your laughter had lost its warmth, the way your eyes seemed distant, even when you looked directly at him.

He carried on with his life, his empire growing ever larger, his influence spreading like wildfire. And on the side, there was her—the woman he met in secret, the one who made him feel alive in ways that you no longer could. He didn’t care to hide it anymore, not really. He knew you knew, but in his mind, it didn’t matter. You were his wife, his possession, and that was enough.

The restaurant was bathed in a warm, subdued light, its cozy ambiance a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Sukuna's heart. He sat across from his date, his smirk easy, a deliberate mask concealing the turbulent emotions beneath. His eyes roamed lazily over the flickering candlelight, his drink half-empty, the conversation flowing smoothly. It was supposed to be an escape, a fleeting distraction from the complexities of his life.

The phone buzzed on the table, its vibration slightly jarring against the relaxed hum of the evening. Sukuna glanced at it, a shadow of irritation crossing his features. He almost ignored it, but a nagging instinct—something primal and insistent—prompted him to check. The screen lit up with an urgent message, and as he read the words, his smirk faltered, replaced by a sudden, unsettling pallor.

His hand trembled slightly as he answered the call that followed.

“Mr. Sukuna, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your evening. There’s been an emergency. Your wife—she’s collapsed and has been rushed to the hospital. The situation is very serious. You need to come immediately.”

Sukuna’s mind reeled, struggling to process the gravity of the message. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, a cacophony of fear and disbelief. “What? No, that can’t be right. Are you sure? What happened?” His usual bravado turned into worrisome, strained whispers. “My wife was healthy when I left her at home.”

“Yes, I’m certain. She was rushed in a couple of minutes ago. The doctors are doing everything they can, but it’s critical. Please come to the hospital right away.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Sukuna staring blankly at his phone. The realization of what he had just heard began to sink in, each beat of his heart echoing with a growing dread. Without a word, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Suku? What’s going on? Where are you going?” Her face is a mask of confusion and concern. “Suku–”

“I—I have to go. It’s an emergency.” His voice barely more than a whisper, laden with panic.

He didn’t wait for any further questions or explanations. His mind was a chaotic whirl of thoughts as he left the restaurant, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm inside him. The drive to the hospital was a blur, the city lights streaking by in a disorienting haze. Every turn, every red light seemed to stretch time, amplifying his growing sense of dread.

Inside the emergency room, the atmosphere was clinical and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the evening he had just left behind. The cacophony of beeping monitors and hurried voices created a symphony of chaos that matched his inner turmoil. He pushed past the reception desk, barely acknowledging the questions they asked him. All he could think about was reaching you, seeing you, and holding onto whatever fragments of hope remained.

“Sir, you need to wait here. We’re in the middle of an emergency procedure.” The nurse said firmly, as Sukuna tried to approach.

Sukuna’s eyes fixed on the form lying still on the gurney, a sight that twisted his insides with a profound ache. The resuscitation efforts were intense, a desperate dance between life and death. He felt a profound sense of helplessness, the cold efficiency of the medical staff contrasting sharply with his own emotional chaos.

“Please, I need to be with her. I have to—” His voice breaking, a raw plea. “Please let me through—”

“Sir, we need to focus on the procedure. You can’t be in the way.”

Sukuna was forced to retreat, his heart sinking as he slumped against the wall, his fists clenched in frustration and fear. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. He stared at the closed doors of the emergency room, the gnawing fear that he might lose you forever consuming him.

In the cold, stark hallway of the hospital, Sukuna felt his world unraveling. The veneer of control and dominance he had always relied on was gone, replaced by a gut-wrenching vulnerability he had never before experienced. He was left alone with his thoughts, confronting the painful truth that he had been given a chance to face his own failures and regrets.

Everything they could, they tried—but it wasn’t enough. He could see it in their eyes, in the frantic movements that were becoming more desperate by the second. He shouted at them, his voice rising to a roar, demanding they do something, anything. He wasn’t used to feeling powerless, wasn’t used to being afraid. But in that moment, as he watched you lying there, unmoving, unresponsive, fear gripped him in a way it never had before.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not now, not when he’d taken you for granted for so long. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been there, always been his, and he’d never truly appreciated it. And now, as he watched the life drain from you, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—genuine, bone-deep terror.

When the nurses finally stopped, when they turned to him with those solemn expressions, he knew. They didn’t have to say a word. He pushed past them anyway, falling to his knees beside your bed, his hand grasping yours, still warm but lifeless. You were slipping through his fingers. He didn’t want to free you — not yet. He needs you. He still wants you.

“Don’t do this, not yet.” he whispered, his voice breaking, something it never did. “You can’t leave me. You don’t get to leave me.”

But you were already gone. The silence in the room was deafening, and for the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna felt utterly and completely helpless.

Sukuna stayed by your side long after the nurses and doctors left the room, long after the machines were turned off, and the sterile, mechanical sounds faded into an unbearable silence. He gripped your hand tightly, as if somehow, by sheer force of will, he could pull you back from the brink, undo what had just happened. But the truth was inescapable—you were gone.

The world outside continued to turn, indifferent to the agony that churned inside him. Sukuna, the man who had always been in control, who had never feared anything or anyone, was now paralyzed by a fear so intense it consumed him. He had never imagined a moment like this, a moment where he would lose something so irreplaceable.

Memories flashed through his mind—moments he had dismissed, overlooked, or taken for granted. The way you would smile at him when he came home, the quiet dinners you shared, the way you had always been there, even when he hadn’t deserved it. He had grown so used to your presence that he never considered what it would be like without you.

He had thought he could live his life as he pleased, that you would always be there, in the background, silently enduring whatever he put you through. But now, with you gone, the enormity of his loss hit him with full force. It wasn’t just that you were gone—it was that you were gone because of him. He had driven you to this, with his neglect, his infidelity, his arrogance.

His chest tightened, and for the first time in years, Sukuna felt the sting of tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried—if he ever had. But now, the tears came unbidden, a raw and overwhelming response to the pain that was tearing him apart. He had lost you, and it was his fault. There was no one else to blame, no way to undo what he had done.

He thought about all the things he would never get to say to you, all the apologies that would never leave his lips. He had always believed he had time—time to make things right, time to explain, time to finally show you that you mattered to him. But now, that time was gone, and with it, any chance of redemption.

Sukuna stayed there, holding your hand, until the nurses gently told him that he had to let go, that it was time to say goodbye. He didn’t want to—he wasn’t ready to. But he knew there was no choice. Slowly, reluctantly, he released your hand, feeling a cold emptiness settle into the space where you had once been.

As he walked out of the hospital, the reality of his life without you began to sink in. The thought of returning to his grand, empty house—one that had always been a symbol of his success, his power—now felt like walking into a tomb. You were no longer there to greet him, no longer there to fill the space with your presence.

And for the first time, Sukuna understood what it meant to be truly alone. All the wealth, the power, the women—none of it mattered anymore. The one thing that had truly mattered was gone, and he was left with nothing but the echo of his own regrets.

As he stepped into his car, the weight of your absence pressed down on him, suffocating in its intensity. He had never been afraid of anything before. But now, as he faced a future without you, he was terrified.

Sukuna sat in the driver’s seat of his car, the door still open as if he might somehow find the strength to run back into the hospital and reverse what had happened. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, and the first sob broke through his defenses, ragged and harsh. He slammed his fists against the wheel, the sound echoing in the empty garage, the pain in his chest mirroring the bruising force of his punches.

Each hit was a release, a desperate attempt to rid himself of the unbearable grief and regret that had settled over him like a heavy fog. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision, and he felt a profound sense of helplessness that he had never known. He had always been in control, always been the one to dictate terms, to manipulate situations to his favor. But now, as he sat there, he was powerless, unable to change anything, unable to bring you back.

In the midst of his torment, memories began to flood back—painful, vivid recollections that he had buried under layers of indifference and self-absorption. He remembered the way you would spend hours in the kitchen, cooking meals with a dedication that went beyond mere obligation. You had always taken care of him, preparing dishes that you knew he loved, ensuring the fridge was stocked with his favorite foods.

He could picture you now, in the kitchen of your shared home, chopping vegetables, stirring pots, your face focused and serene. The way you’d hum softly to yourself, the warmth of the kitchen contrasting with the coldness that seemed to have crept into his heart over the years. Every meal you made was a labor of love, a testament to the care and consideration you had for him, even when he had taken it all for granted.

And then there were the times you’d prepare extra food, stock the fridge with ready-made meals, knowing that his schedule was unpredictable, that he might be too busy to eat properly. You’d filled the refrigerator with care, making sure he would have something to sustain him, even when you couldn’t be there.

He should have noticed the subtle changes in your routine. The house had been unusually pristine lately, the surfaces spotless, the floors immaculate. It wasn’t like you to maintain such a high level of cleanliness without a reason. It was as if you had been preparing the space, ensuring that everything was in perfect order, as if you were orchestrating a smooth transition for him, even after you were gone.

The closets were tidier than usual, the clothes organized and neatly hung. He realized now that you had cleaned out your own belongings with quiet efficiency, not because you were preparing to leave in the conventional sense, but because you wanted to spare him the burden. You had sorted through your things, reducing the mess he would have to deal with, thinking ahead so that your death wouldn’t leave him grappling with the physical remnants of your life.

The laundry was always done, the baskets emptied and folded with a care that went beyond routine. You had taken care of it all, ensuring that he wouldn’t be confronted with chores and tasks that might remind him of the void you were leaving behind. The house had been more than just clean—it had been meticulously arranged to make his life easier, to ensure that the practicalities of your absence wouldn’t add to his grief.

In the midst of his grief, the realization struck him with the force of a revelation. You had been planning for this moment all along, your every action a carefully orchestrated preparation for the inevitable. You had thought of everything—how the house should be, how his daily life should continue without disruption, how he might cope with the void you would leave behind.

And yet, despite all your foresight, he had been so absorbed in his own world, so blind to your quiet efforts, that he hadn’t seen what you were doing. He had been wrapped up in his own needs, his own desires, oblivious to the depth of your sacrifice.

Now, as he sat there in the car, the weight of his regret felt almost unbearable. You had given him a gift of love so profound, so selfless, and he had only realized it in the harshest of moments. He had been given a chance to appreciate you, to see how deeply you cared, but it had come too late.

The house was prepared, the chores managed, the meals cooked—all to make sure that your departure wouldn’t add to his burden. And all he could do now was mourn the loss of someone who had loved him so completely, while he had remained unaware of the full extent of their care.

The realization hit him with a crushing weight. You had been preparing him—preparing him for a future without you. You had known, on some level, that your time was limited, and you had tried to make things easier for him, to ensure he wouldn’t be left entirely lost when you were gone. You had left behind a legacy of care and love, even in your absence.

The tears flowed more freely now, each one a testament to the depth of his regret. The sight of the empty kitchen at home, the pristine rows of shelves, the meticulously arranged pantry—all these things that once seemed so ordinary now felt like a poignant reminder of the love he had squandered. You had been his rock, his constant, and he had never truly valued it until it was too late.

Sukuna’s sobs grew louder, more desperate, his grief palpable in the confined space of the car. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of his own making, surrounded by the memories of what he had lost and the realization of how profoundly he had failed you. The realization of your love, the sacrifices you had made, and the undeniable truth that he had only seen it all now, when it was too late, was a torment unlike anything he had ever known.

He sank forward, resting his head on the steering wheel, letting the tears fall harder than before, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. He wished he could turn back time, could undo the mistakes he had made, could tell you how much you meant to him. But all he was left with was the crushing weight of his actions, the echoes of your love, and the empty space where you once were.

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etheries1015 · 6 months ago

Text

after learning Silver uses a BAR OF SOAP to wash his hair...AND wanting to wish him a happy birthday, I decided he must be pampered with a...little spa day, and something a little special near the end <3 Happy birthday, Silver!!

General warnings: gender neutral reader

Upon visiting Silver in his dorm for a small birthday celebration and finding out the unfortunate truth behind his hair-washing habits, you were quick to insist you take him out shopping or teach him the ways of proper hair care.

"I had no clue it wasn't normal to just use a bar of soap," Silver shrugged, "As long as it makes me clean, right?"

"Just hearing you say that hurts," you joked exasperatedly, "I feel it's my duty now to train you in the ways of making your hair clean and feel like you're touching a cloud."

"Well," Silver pondered, "I guess it wont hurt to learn."

"Perfect!" You jumped up from your seat, the Diasomnia lounge, "you guys are done here, right?" Lilia looked as startled as Silver at your sudden outburst, before taking a glance at the already eaten birthday cake and open presents that lay out on the table.

"I suppose it is time to retire, I have a gaming session happening soon anyways," Lilia pointed out, before a sly smile crawled upon his lips and looking at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Feel free to take him!"

"Take me?" Silver perked up, sitting up straight. Giving an...unsettling cackle and grabbing Silvers hands, you began to pull him up and urge him to follow you.

"Perfect. Yes, i'm kidnapping you. Remember, I told you that I left my present for you at Ramshackle anyways. AND this is a perfect opportunity for me to initiate my next mission..."

"Mission...?" you heard Lilia sing his goodbyes and waved a quick farewell to the other members of Diasomnia, before dragging Silver out the door and towards the direction of the hall of mirrors.

"Operation: spoil the birthday boy with a spa day!"

Wearing the world's softest robe you had let him use, Silver dosed off a few times after being completely pampered like a princess, and not as a result of his typical condition. You messaging his scalp was probably the most heavenly thing he had felt in a long time, the way your fingers worked on his head left his eyes fluttering shut. He was honestly sad when he realized he had fallen asleep and missed half of the process, but he could still feel your touch linger on his head and immensely enjoy the newfound softness of his silver locks.

You woke him up when you had placed a cool face mask on him, and fell asleep once more when you had started to massage his tense shoulders and cut his nails... He felt like floating on clouds, and those clouds also smelled like you.

"It's nice..." Silver hummed, eyes fluttering open watching you finish filing one of his nails, "You have a very nice scent. I would like to know where you get your hair products," He smiled at you.

"We can find you a scent that suites you more," you offered, "every person has their own unique scent! I'm sure with some time, we can find the perfect one for you." However, Silver shook his head in earnest. It was much more romantic than he probably intended, yet he leaned forward and took a light smell of your also freshly washed hair.

"I like your scent," he smiled, "besides, it would be nice to share something similar, right? So when we aren't together, there's always a piece of you there. You also convinced me that hair care is more important than I gave it credit for..."

Your face took a rosy hue, you groaned in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands.

"You're so...cheesy! You don't need my shampoo and conditioner to be reminded of me, I actually...got you...something. For your birthday." Silver raised a curious eyebrow and tilted his head with widened eyes.

"I thought you spoiling me with a little 'spa' was my birthday gift? you've already spoiled me plenty, I don't need-"

"Of course that's not all I have planned!" You exasperated, pushing Silver down onto the couch in Ramshackle lounge, "Wait here." Sprinting away, you were back almost as fast as you had left, in your hands you held a small box obviously held for some type of accessory. Taking it gracefully, Silver opened the box to reveal a silver bracelet adorned with...

"Acorns?" Silver asked startled, holding up the bracelet and examining it with curious and starry eyes.

"I saw the one you made for Lilia," You pointed out shyly, "Out of real acorns. I thought of making one myself for you, too...but, I wanted something a little more durable, something you can wear more often. If...you don't mind accessories." You hid your hands behind your back fidgeting with your fingers nervously, before a smile spread ear to ear and cheeks rose with a blush from the male. He gripped the bracelet with eagerness, and you swore the bright look on his face would surely give the sun some competition.

"I love it," Silver replied with a voice dripping in enthusiasm, "I won't be able to wear it while I'm training, but I'll be sure to have it on at all times. I'll take great care of it, thank you." You were visibly relieved, chuckling and bringing your hands to your front as you revealed an exact match of the same bracelet you had just given him.

"i'm glad, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing to wear a matching bracelet with nobody actually matching with me..." Silver stared with wide auroral orbs, mouth ajar upon seeing it. "So...we have something to share! Just like you were talking about before, right?"

Engulfing you in a hug after putting on the accessory in one fell swoop, Silver couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of affection for the prefect of ramshackle dorm. He squeezed you tightly, yet not enough to harm you. You smiled and returned the hug in full, chuckling at his sudden display of fondness.

"This has been a wonderful birthday," Silver said, "Thank you, truly. I will remember this day for a very, very long time." leaning into his touch, you pushed aside the urge to tell him he was overreacting, and took the honest boys words at face value.

"Of course...Happy birthday, Silver!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcannons #Silver vanrouge #Silver twst #twst silver #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #silver headcannons #twst silver headcannons #Twst headcannons #twst x reader #Silver vanrouge x reader #Silver vanrouge headcannons

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merchelsea · 4 months ago

Note

Hi hi

Can I request a Oscar Piastri sister reader x Lando

Maybe she's older than Oscar by a year and dating Lando, I want it to be angst with fluffy ending cus im a sucker for those 😭 either the reader and lando gets into a fight and they take a break and Oscar ends up being the middle person with a happy ending

Oscar didnt know his sister was dating Lando and she introduces Lando to her family as her bf and oscar's just hurt by how they didnt tell him in advance?? and he starts being petty and ignore them...but it also ends in a happy ending

Idk idk I'm good with any as long as it's angst fluff sorry this is long 😭😭 thank you as welllll <3

family matter — lando norris (+op81)

pairing: lando norris x fem!piastri!reader

summary: you introduced lando to your family, as your boyfriend, and your brother didn’t react as well as you hoped

autor’s note: you guys love a piastri sister x lando story. (well i love writing them so keep the requests coming!

word count: 2k

warnings: angst. sad oscar. swearing.

masterlist | requests

lando stood nervously on the passenger seat, while you drove to the restaurant. he didn’t need to say anything for you to realize how insanely nervous he was.

you told him tonight was the night you would let everyone know what he actually meant to you.

you had been dating for a month and some days, and not telling anyone was crazy, in your perspective. you knew everyone would support you, but you were still a little apprehensive. after all, lando was oscar’s teammate, and you didn’t want to make things at work difficult for neither of them.

it was a good opportunity today because your whole family agreed to go out for dinner after a good home race for oscar. lando got a podium, oscar got fourth place. it was good for the team and for both drivers.

even though there was some controversy.

once you told him, the british immediately panicked. your family loved him, and he was aware, but he couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling.

seeing him so tense, you decided it was better if you drove. you were not completely normal about this either, but you felt this was way easier for you.

as you got closer to the restaurant, you felt like you needed to, at least try to, calm him down.

“they already love you, lan. it’s not like us being together changes their opinion about you.” you looked over at him as you parked the car.

he simply nodded, kissing the back of your hand after holding on to it for a while. you stood in the car a little more.

“you’re right. let’s go.” he finally told you.

you both walked together up to the table. oscar had his back to you, so you hugged him from behind. other members of the family smiled at lando’s figure behind you as you kissed oscar’s cheeks.

“you brought lando?” your mother asked, a smile plastered on her lips as she walked over to hug the british.

“yeah… hm. i wanted to tell you guys, something…” you started, making every one face you except your brother, who you were still holding. “well, me and lando, we are together.” you slowly let go of oscar as he turned around, a serious expression on his face. “as a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend…” someone let out an excited noise and all you could see were smiley faces.

“finally!” your dad said from across the table, coming closer right after and hugging lando in his own way.

the driver was clearly nervous, but way better then before. a soft smile in his lips as he looked over at you.

you looked at oscar, trying to get a reaction out of him and he simply smiled, nodded and whispered a ‘congratulations’ to both of you, before turning around to eat again.

you sort of expected a better reaction from your brother, maybe an excited one, maybe a protective one.

the aussie looked like he didn’t care enough to give it a minute of attention.

maybe it was just because today was supposed to be about him, and you ruined it. maybe he wasn’t so pleased to have lando as a brother-in-law. maybe he was just tired because of the race.

you didn’t give it too much thinking, you moved to his right, sat next to him with lando by your side, and ate. making conversation with everyone around and looking over to lando from time to time, to make sure he was doing okay.

that night, you got home with lando and received an extremely good feedback from your family. they loved norris, and were delighted to have him as a part of the family.

oscar, who didn’t seem to be so pleased, never texted you. you noticed it and found it strange, but once again thought there could be other explanations to it. not just that he abhorred the idea of you two together.

some weeks passed away and you were now on lando’s driver room. sitting on the edge of the couch, caressing his hair.

norris knew you loved formula one more than almost everything, so he made sure to have you there in japan with him, since oscar had already gifted his own passes.

your boyfriend looked over at you with a concerned look.

“hey, baby, have you talked to oscar after we told him we were together?” he asked, playing with the zipper of his race suit.

“i don’t think so.” you stopped to think, and realized you hadn’t indeed talked to him. which was odd, as you were always glued to each other. “i think he’s been pretty busy.”

lando hummed and you looked down at his face. “why?” you asked, he shook his head while looking at you.

“nothing, love. it just looks like he’s avoiding me.” with half-closed eyes, you hummed.

after all, your theory might not be wrong. maybe oscar didn’t like the idea of you and lando as more than friends.

“i’ll try to talk to him, lan.” you bent down to kiss his forehead. “you have free practice in a few minutes, don’t worry about this. it will be okay.”

he sat up and hugged you.

“i love you.” he smiled against your neck.

“i love you too. good luck, baby.” you smiled back, feeling his lips on the sensitive skin. he eventually got up and left the room. you stayed back a little to get his laptop and notebook, for after the fp sessions.

lando had two shitty sessions, finishing 10th in one and 12th in the other. on the other hand, oscar managed to pull some really good laps, finishing 8th and 1st.

your boyfriend got out of the car and looked over at you to let you know he was okay, as that was always a preoccupation, and talked with his mechanics, giving them feedback about the car and what could be improved.

oscar did the same thing, not taking so long because there wasn’t really much that the mechanics could do on his car.

piastri’s feedback after the first free practice helped him realize that the problem was how long he took to brake on the corners. improving that, he made an incredible fp2.

“osc, good job.” you smiled at your brother as he passed by. the aussie simply nodded his head before going into his driver room.

you thought of following him immediately and get things cleared out, but maybe you should just wait for lando. this was about him too, after all.

your family wasn’t here yet, because, except for your father, none of them actually liked formula one. they liked that your brother was brilliant doing it, but they didn’t really know anything or cared about the sport. so they only came for the race. never even qualifying.

your dad watched them from home, not wanting to leave your mother alone with all the hosting responsibilities.

once norris was freed, he walked up to you and held you in his arms.

“you were distracted out there.” you stated. the british let out a frustrated sigh.

“i know… it’s just the oscar situation. he’s one of my closest friends in formula one. i don’t want him to hate me.” you chuclked, pulling the man closer to you.

“he doesn’t hate you.” you commented. “let’s talk to him.” lando’s eyes widened and he pulled back to try and see if you were serious.

“now?” he asked and you nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him though the garage until you reached oscar’s private room.

hearing a knock on his door, oscar ran to the door.

“hi?” he was confused with your presence. it wasn’t you he was waiting for.

“hey. i think we need to talk.” without asking for permission, you entered and dragged lando inside with you.

“we do, actually.” oscar states, closing the door and leaning against his table. lando took place on top of a balcony and you leaned against that same balcony, standing face to face with your big brother.

no one said anything for some seconds. trying to figure out what was the best way to start this important conversation.

“you guys should’ve told me.” oscar said, looking between the both of you. anyone who knew him could tell how hurt he was. his eyes reflecting it.

“we told you!” you remarked.

“yeah, after what? two months?” he sarcastically pointed out. “next time send me a letter, maybe it would be faster.” you rolled your eyes and lando stood still, understanding oscar’s side perfectly.

“this isn’t about you.” you said, lando touched your back gently, trying to calm you down.

“you are my sister, y/n! do you even know how much i care about this? you are my other half, the person i love the most in this whole entire world!” oscar’s voice rose a little as he spoke. “and lando, you are my friend! you both kept this from me and discarded me in the process. i was informed at the same time that auntie joannah was!”

you felt the urge to laugh at the mention of the old lady’s name, but kept your expression still. a little more saddened now that you were realizing just how big your mistake was.

“oscar…”

“no, y/n. let me finish.” he asked. you simply nodded, and he continued. his arms were crossed in front of his chest now and he had his race suit halfway down. “you have been distancing yourself and i have no idea of why. at first i thought you weren’t okay because of hate or how things were going with tennis, but you don’t seem very preoccupied with that, so i really don’t know.”

he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i’m sure you had your reasons, but you’re my best friend, y/n, and constantly feeling like you don’t trust me anymore, or don’t consider me as you did before… it hurts.”

sadness embraces you as you listen to your brother. lando caresses your shoulder from behind you.

“maybe i should leave you two to talk, this is family matter.” the british suggests.

“you’re family.” both you and oscar say in unison. lando couldn’t help but feel his heart warm, smiling softly to himself as you think of some way to explain things to oscar.

“you know, i would have been your relationship’s biggest supporter if you had given me the chance.” oscar was the one to talk again, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. you needed to hug him, and so you did.

it was a clumsy hug, but it meant everything to you.

“i never meant to hurt you, osc.” you truthfully told him, feeling his grip tightening around you. “it was supposed to be a surprise…”

“what a fucking great way to do it.”

as you both hugged each other, lando watched from the balcony. he too was scared of losing oscar’s friendship, but he was sure that you would do the right thing, and sort things out.

“i never thought you would see this as a good thing. from the start, you and lando got along really really well, and i never wanted to get in the way of that, but i did not control it.” tears threatened to come out of your eyes at any time.

“when it happened, when we happened, i was terrified… but this was strong, i couldn’t stay away from him even if i tried. it was the kind of love you can not put down… and the idea seemed to be less and less terrifying.” you tried to explain. oscar payed close attention to every word you said, and lando, from the balcony, did the same thing.

it was the first time you opened up to someone other than your own figure in the mirror.

“and then i embraced this. this idea of being his, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend and i could never say no. i love him!”

you turn around to look at lando, who hugged his knees and smiled at you. oscar looked too and immediately realized that norris was the one for you. just by his eyes.

“but i still wasn’t prepared to tell you, because of every single devilish thought in my head. so i kept my distance because i know i wouldn’t be able to lie or hide anything from you. but i never, ever, stopped trusting you or considered you less.” you remarked. “you’re my osc, my big brother, you are my everything, and i’m sorry for not communicating.”

you could see in his eyes how hurt he was, and you hated to think it was all because of you.

“i’m sorry, oscar. i really am.”

“i like to know stuff. and i love you,” he pulls you into a real hug this time, allowing you to breathe freely again.

lando, who was still sat on the balcony, walked over towards you and stood next to you, watching the sibling moment with admiration in his eyes.

it was rare to find such a connection.

when you two pulled apart, lando finally broke his silence.

“hey, osco… i’m sorry too man. we both thought about surprising you, and i may have been a little more guilty than y/n there, because i didn’t want you to hate me for dating your sister.”

oscar smiled at the brit.

“i trust you with her, and i don’t hate you. but if you ever even think about hurting her...” lando nodded knowingly, and they touched hands.

“i would never. i really love her.” oscar pulled your boyfriend into a hug and you stood back, watching the two of them.

“i can see it.” oscar smiled as they pulled back.

lando ran his hand from behind your neck until he reached your shoulder, and pulled you close. he kissed the top of your head.

“i’m family now eh?” lando bragged and oscar rolled his eyes.

“don’t make me regret it.”

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missnxthingg · 2 months ago

Text

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We're close to an ending, I'm so sad 😭 Also, another big one, so don't forget to check part two and the original chapter!

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 2

yourusername

Zandvoort, Netherlands

yourusername Back to travelling the world! The stroopwafles were way too delicious 😋

username1 You're so effortlessly beautiful

username2 the comms queen is back! we missed you, y/n

landonorris save me a stroopwafel

↪yourusername you ate all that i had 🥺 ↪landonorris ooops sorry 🫣 ↪username3 he's so unhinged, i can't

f1gossip

f1gossip After spending summer break together, Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were seen very cosy in McLaren's garage in Zandvoort. Even though they've been best friends for years, they always prefered to not show any affection for each other during work to keep it professional. Do you guys think anything has changed?

username1 It's obvious that they've been together since Miami

↪username2 pretty rich of her to only get with him after he started winning ↪username3 A gold digger, that's for sure ↪username1 I didn't comment this for you weirdos to come and hate on Y/N. She's the sweetest and Lando really loves her.

username4 god, i hope they really are together 🥺 just look at lando's summer break pics, they absolutely love each other

↪username5 and let's pray that if they are together, that they will share it with us. so many love them together, but i think they'll keep it very private ↪username6 Lando always did that to keep Y/N and Ollie safe. He knows how things work when you're famous

username7 I'M SO READY FOR THIS

oscarpiastri added to their close friends' stories

Caption: I don't think that's very professional 👀

↪yourusername replied to your story: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

↪oscapiastri: it's on close friends ↪yourusername: one small mistake and this would've been up the internet. as a friend AND pr, i would've murdered you ↪oscarpiastri: sorry, y/n

↪landonorris replied to your story: send it to me, mate

↪oscarpiastri: you had a better reaction them y/n ↪oscarpiastri: sending it

landonorris

landonorris Yup 🏆 More like it

tagged: yourusername

yourusename I love you, my race winner ❤ what a statement today!

↪landonorris I love you more

username1 THIS IS THE HARDEST LAUNCH OF ALL HARD LAUNCHES

username2 FUCKING FINALLY

username3 We lived to see Lando kissing Y/N right after winning with a 22 second gap in Max's home race 🥺

↪usename4 honestly, i don't think life can get any better than this

maxfewtrell Proper job this weekend brother. Put your shirt back on and stop being indecent with Y/N

↪maxfewtrell (I'm happy for you two, btw) ↪yourusername We love you, Maxie ❤ ↪landonorris Thanks, mate

username4 Gold digger 💀

↪username1 Stop it, we're not gonna let you ruin this for them ↪username2 you clearly don't know anything about them, so fuck off!

yourusername

yourusername Since he decided to give you hardest launch, here are some pics from the most amazing weekend of the year ❤ Proud of you, my love

tagged: landonorris

oscarpiastri Does this means that I can freely post pictures of you two on my stories?

↪yourusername NO ↪username1 YOU KNEW? ↪oscarpiastri Everybody and their mother knew

landonorris You make me the happiest ❤ I love you so much

↪yourusername I love you more ↪landonorris Impossible

username2 STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

username3 mother, now feed us with all the unseen pics of you as a couple

↪yourusername Incoming...

username4 Don't you think that's a bit unprofessional? She's literally wearing a McLaren uniform

↪username5 They have always kept things professional while on the paddock, and clearly this doesn't affect his race results ↪username6 I know someone said it before, but we will not tolerate this type of comment about their relationship. Lando loves her and she loves him. Period.

username7 all of our dreams literally came true 🥺 i'm so happy

↪username8 us lando stans have never been so happy to see our boy happy

landofan

landofan Since they finally told everyone about their relationship, we rescued some pictures of Lando and Y/N (and Ollie) through the years. We're so happy to finally see them together ❤ We also want to take the opportunity to say that we fully support this relationship and that we'll not tolerate hate comments towards Y/N. It's clear that she makes Lando very happy and that this is very special to them.

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

username1 THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE CUTEST

username2 i swear they are going to have the prettiest family in the future

username3 I need a wedding and thousands of kids from them

yoursername Thank you so much for the message! It means a lot to me (and also, the cute baby Ollie pics, ty for bringing them back to me).

↪landofan OMG! tysm queen ❤ we love you together and we'll always have your back

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

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hamliet · 4 months ago

Note

Excited for your thoughts on the bnha ending

Also I’ll be honest I dropped this like 200 chs ago and I’ve just kept up through your metas because I was so disillusioned with the manga 🥲 I even sold my copies

it's a bit bittersweet to see bnha handled this way. sometimes i think we'll get a promising continuation from the author which is major cope for me T.T

fix its are otw but damn it doesn't mend that it ended this way rn

Diff asks, answering together.

Not saying too much because there's not much to be said besides that a friend who wrote a meta who won't post it (to all our detriment!) said it best last week: this story is cowardly. It's afraid to say or do anything because it wants to make everyone happy and realized it can't, so now it just wants to make no one upset, but everyone's upset.

I feel sad for Horikoshi. His recent interviews are quite depressing, and he seems burned out and done with his own manga in a way that makes Gege look enthusiastic about JJK.

Like, he doesn't confirm Touya dead or alive--which frankly I will take--but leaves it up to the reader to decide. Is the doctor's word final, or is Touya crying a symbol of healing since he previously couldn't? I know which one I choose to believe, but this way people can choose to fit the manga into their personal beliefs. He's trying to say nothing to avoid rocking the boat. And that's just sad, especially when we consider what likely contributed to that.

Which is to say, on a purely story level, the story has no power. There's being open to other perspectives and then there's not having a message. This is sadly the latter. It's a mess. Deku "heroes save" doesn't save, but he's still heroic, but that line isn't demolished or destroyed. AFO may be dead, but he won in the end because what he used to taunt Deku came true. Deku's character is nothing more than a vehicle--no struggle, no emotional climax, no principles. The ships are not even confirmed because the story can't even commit to the obvious Ochaco/Deku (which I dislike even!) for fear of angering other loud shippers. Society is the problem, but also the answer. The hero system is the problem, but also the answer. It's not a paradox because it doesn't explain the layers at play here. It's just noodles that have cooked far too long and turned into a congealed mess.

The only message I can take from it is "yay authoritarianism" which I'm going to hope Horikoshi is saying accidentally (and most likely is). It's as meaningless as GoT season 8, and TROS, and that's not good company to be in.

#ask hamliet #bnha critical mha critical #mha 430 #bnha 430

197 notes · View notes

hjparisian · 1 year ago

Text

you're losing me- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn!reader w: kinda sad, angst summary: Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have been close friends since they were kids. Realizing their feelings for each other, they pursue a relationship. Theodore begins to change and (Y/N) feels that they're losing him. a/n: i wanna apologize for how long it's taken for me to get this out, but i hope its still enjoyable. also do you guys like the summaries before the story? not sure if i should keep them or not

Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have known each other since they were young. Being purebloods, they were put together with the other pureblood kids at parties. The first party they ever been to, the two clicked, deciding they were designated party buddies at these boring functions.

Aside from the Malfoy's, the (L/N)'s also threw numerous elegant parties. The (L/N)'s never cared for where the kids were as long as they were exhibiting proper sophisticated behavior when present. At one of the (L/N)'s parties, young (Y/N) dragged young Theodore to one of the many rooms in the manor, wanting to escape the adults. The room had rows of books from floor to ceiling, a fireplace, and big windows that brought in beautiful sunlight during the day.

From that day forward, that was (Y/N)'s and Theodore's room. (Y/N) would always bring Theodore to the room whenever he was over, whether it be during parties or the holidays, and Theodore would bring more books to add to the shelves. Sometimes they would invites some of their closet pureblood friends like Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise, and the Greengrass sisters, but to them, it was their room only.

Once the two began going to Hogwarts, they felt closer than ever, and the fact that they were both placed in Slytherin helped. If (Y/N) was in the library studying, Theodore was next to them helping. If Theodore was chilling in the common room with his mates, (Y/N) was sitting right next to him.

In fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament was taking place and the Yule Ball was announced. Everyone was scrambling to find someone to take. Theodore had only one person in mind though, (Y/N). He told them to meet him at the astronomy tower, where he stood there holding their favorite flowers, ready to pop the question.

"(Y/N) (L/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive by being my date to the Yule Ball?"

Much to his pleasure, (Y/N) said yes.

The day of the Yule Ball finally came and everyone was excited. Both (Y/N) and Theodore were nervous, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of the other. The moment the two laid their eyes on each other, they didn't even notice the other people around them, all they saw was each other. Toward the end of the night, Theodore told (Y/N) his feelings, sparking a new relationship at Hogwarts.

Everything was going just fine, sure they may have small arguments, but Theodore and (Y/N) would always be able to patch things up. But things start to change in the sixth year. Theodore started to be more distant. He would either be late to breakfast or not show up at all. Everytime (Y/N) would ask if they could meet somewhere, Theodore would always reply with "Can't, I'm busy right now." This change was putting a strain on their relationship.

To everyone else, it seemed that Theodore and (Y/N) were fine, but in reality, there's an unknown battle going on. (Y/N) tried to appear happy in front of their friends, not wanting to worry them, but there was one person that could see through their facade. Pansy.

Every time Pansy would confront (Y/N) about this, (Y/N) would defend Theodore with their life.

"(Y/N), I can see things between you and Theo aren't okay."

"No! I mean, we're fine. Theo's just busy right now with school."

Pansy knew that they really cared for Theodore and don't want to face the facts that their relationship is starting to fall. But by doing so, (Y/N) is slowly bleeding out from the pain he is causing them.

Before winter break, (Y/N) was invited to Slughorn's Christmas Party. Those who were attending were encouraged to bring a date. They decided to take a chance and ask Theodore to be their date, not wanting to go with anyone else.

(Y/N) was able to find Theodore in the common room reading, and decided to take chance.

"Hey."

Theo looks up at them. "Hey."

"I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you would be my date to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" There was a slight pause. "Blaise and Pansy are going. I think Daphne too."

(Y/N) looks at Theodore, slightly scared for his response. The man took a breathe before answering.

"Sure."

"Good." (Y/N) said. "It's on the 20th at 8 o'clock. Dress nice."

Theodore Nott said yes to going. So why was (Y/N) disappointed by his response? It's because his response wasn't what they were expecting. Theodore's responses were typically more energetic, telling them there was nothing else he'd rather do than spend time with them.

Was this the beginning of an end? Is (Y/N) starting to lose Theodore? Or is it the other way around? Will Theodore lose (Y/N) by pushing them away?

The night of Slughorn's Christmas Party was not an exciting one. (Y/N) was deciding if they should just ditch it and leave Theodore waiting for them, if he even bothered to show up. But of course, Theodore wouldn't ditch them nor would (Y/N), having been taught manners all their life by their parents.

The two met up in the common room, deciding they could walk together to Slughorn's office for the party. The walk was painfully silent, until (Y/N) decided to break it.

"So. How have you been?"

"Fine." Theodore responds. "You?"

"I've been alright. Mainly doing school work."

Theodore hums in response, ending the brief conversation.

Luckily, they had arrived at Slughorn's office. Theodore opened the door and as they walked in, it felt like they were transported somewhere else. It seemed as if the Potions professor really out did himself, with all the gold, crimson, and emerald hangings, it definitely did not feel like they were in his office.

(Y/N) spotted their Slytherin friends and dragged Theodore towards them. Pansy stood with Blaise, who was holding her waist while Daphne Greengrass was chatting it up with Adrian Pucey.

"Hey, Pansy!" (Y/N) called out.

Pansy turned towards the two Slytherins at the sound of her name. "(Y/N)! Theodore!" She ran to give (Y/N) a hug, Blaise joining her to give Theodore their so called 'bro hugs'.

"You look stunning," Pansy says.

"Aw thank you Pansy," said (Y/N). "You do too!"

"And what about your other favorite Slytherin? Don't I look hot?" Blaise asks with a sly grin.

"Ah Blaise," (Y/N) begins to say. "You look absolutely terrible." A small 'Hey!' leaves Blaise's month as he looks offend. "Joking, joking!"

A voice calls (Y/N)'s name. It was Professor Slughorn.

"Ah (Y/N)! I'm so glad you're here. Come with me, I've got a couple people who are want to meet the (L/N)'s heir!"

"Oh er, sure Professor," (Y/N) tells him as he begins to drag them away.

"Worry not dear (Y/N) you'll be back with your friends soon!"

As Slughorn was bringing (Y/N) to meet some of his friends and alumni, (Y/N)'s eyes looked at Theodore, who wasn't even aware or concerned about their temporary departure. In fact, he was more focused on the seemingly wonderful conversation he was having with Daphne Greengrass.

While being forced to talk with numerous people, thanks to Professor Slughorn, (Y/N) couldn't help but keep looking for Theodore, hoping he was looking for them but to their disappointment, he was staring still staring into the eyes of Daphne, smiling as she was talking. He hadn't looked at them like that in ages.

They had to talk to Theodore.

(Y/N) turned to the lady that was currently chatting with her. "My apologies, I must be heading now, if you could excuse me." They began walking towards their supposed lover and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Theodore, Daphne. I hope you don't mind if I talk to Theo about something, do you?" (Y/N) asks.

"Oh no, go ahead," Daphne tells them.

(Y/N) had already begun to drag Theodore outside the party, pulling him into an empty corridor. As soon as they stopped, Theodore yanks his hand out of (Y/N)'s grasp.

"What is it you want, (Y/N)?" Theodore asks. "Daphne and I were in the middle of a conversation."

"What I wanna know is what is up with you? Since the start of this year, you've practically been ignoring me! Everytime I've asked to do something, you always say you're busy!"

"That's because I am busy-"

"Doing what? Spending time with Daphne? Avoiding us?"

"(Y/N), no. It isn't-"

"It isn't what, Theodore? I see the way you look at Daphne. It's how you used to look at me."

At this point, (Y/N) was struggling to hold their tears back, releasing all the anger, frustration and pain they've been holding in.

"This whole time I've been pretending everything was fine, but in reality I was waiting for you to do something to save us. To show that you still love me."

"(Y/N) I still love you."

"If you still did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Theodore took a deep breath, obviously starting to get frustrated.

"Listen (Y/N), let's just go back to the party and talk about this later." Theo tells them.

"Oh? So you can avoid this whole conversation and me the rest of the night? To spend your night with someone else?"

"Honestly (Y/N), you're over exaggerating," Theodore scoffs. He turns and starts walking away from them.

"And where are you going?"

"Away. I think we need space right now. I'll see you after break."

Theodore leaves (Y/N) alone in the corridor. All (Y/N) could do was sob, feeling heartbroken. The next day, they took the next train and returned to the (L/N)'s manor.

"How has school been? Are you passing all your classes?" (Y/N)'s mother asked during lunch.

(Y/N) swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before responding. "It's been alright. I'm doing well in all my classes. I have O's and E's."

"And how are your friends?" (Y/N)'s father chimes in. "Oh and Nott's boy! How could I forget? How is he?"

"Oh Theodore! That boy is so sweet." (Y/N)'s mother said.

Of course they'd have to bring up Theodore. "Everyone's doing alright. We're just all busy with classes and preparing for NEWTs next year." said (Y/N), trying to avoid the topic of the Slytherin boy.

"You know," their mother begins. "I wouldn't mind if you and Theodore got married once you graduate from Hogwarts."

If (Y/N) had anything in their mouth, they would've done a spit take.

(Y/N)'s father agreed. "I think it would be wonderful! Uniting the Nott and (L/N) families."

(Y/N) didn't want to let their parents know what happened between the two. It would only cause more harm and could ruin any business going on between the two families. Besides, who'd want to marry the insecure heir of the (L/N)?

Not wanting to discuss this anymore (as well as losing their appetite), (Y/N) handing their plate to the families house elf before standing up.

"If you'll excuse me, I would like to do a bit of studying."

(Y/N) began walking straight to their room, until a specific set of doors caught their eye. They decide to take a detour and enter it. It was the room where Theodore and (Y/N) would spend their times hiding from the adults at the elegant pureblooded parties.

It looked about the same since they were last in it near the beginning of summer. Shelves of books filled from floor to ceiling, the fireplace was out, books strewn about on tables, and their most favorite part of this room, the large windows that shined sunlight on them. It was one of the major things that Theodore and (Y/N) liked about this room.

On one of the tables was a handkerchief with the initials T.N. embroidered on it. It was Theodore's.

One summer afternoon, (Y/N) and Theodore sat across from each other reading. Theodore heard small sniffs and looked up to see (Y/N) with tears welled up in their eyes.

"(Y/N) are you alright?" He asked them, concerned for their wellbeing.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "Oh, yes, sorry. I just got to a really emotional part in my book, but I'm alright."

Theodore put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a white cloth with the letters T.N. on it in gold.

"Here, (Y/N)," Theodore says as he hands it to them. "So you can wipe the tears. I hate to see you cry."

(Y/N) immediately takes the handkerchief and dabs the tears away. "Thank you so much Theo."

The boy gave them a smile. "Anything for you (Y/N)."

All (Y/N) could do was cry at the memory. The Theodore that they once loved, was practically gone. The love they had for each other has faded. They could no longer find the pulse leading to their love.

All that remain was the room that Theodore and (Y/N) had loved because of the light.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine

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hard-core-super-star · 11 months ago

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make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late 😅 i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different.

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug.

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone.

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you.

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t.

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?”

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer.

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands.

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next.

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment.

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

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normansnt · 10 months ago

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Short Kings

(Hazbin Lucifer x trans male reader)

Warnings: noooonnneeee(:

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You were looking in the mirror at your fresh scars. You were born in hell...as a biological female sadly. At least coming out to anyone was not a problem due to you not having anyone.

This only changed when you were already a grown up. You kept yourself alive by breaking into rich looking houses and stealing stuff that you could sell for good money.

This is how you met your boyfriend of today as well, the big dick behind it all: Lucifer.

You wanted to rob his house in the middle of the night, but you just had to stop and look at a very cute tubber duck and this was when you got caught.

However he didn't really seem mad that you wanted to rob him. He even asked you to stay and have a cup of tea with him. Which at the end turned into you hugging him while he cried into your shoulder about how he has not seen his daughter in years and his wife left him.

While he was renting to you, you noticed that it stoped suddenly. He fell asleep, 'great' you thought.

Even though you had a shitty life, you were not a shitty person. You didn't hate the rich people you stole from you knew that thats just how it is one are lucky some aren't.

So you brought him to his bed. While you laid him down on his bed you took an actual good look at him. 'He's cute' you thought to yourself.

'And very fucking mentally damaged' you thought right after.

You wanted to leave, but something held you back. For some reason you felt for this little man. Also it has been a long while since you have slept in an actually comfortable bed so you decided to stay the night.

Little did you know you'd never leave after that.

And that you amazing boyfriend would be the reason you can finally be closer to your real self.

"My love" you heard your kings voice from besides you as he put his hands around your waist and put his chin on your shoulder.

"Those scars look rewashing on you" he commented while kissing your shoulder.

"My handsome, boyfriend" he continued to whisper praises while you smiled lightly.

You loved him so much.

"You know I'm really happy you tried to rob me" he mumbled into your shoulder.

You laughed at that.

"Yeah sure its cuz you found a boyfriend who is shorter than you" you got back at him.

"REALLY, ok now see I really don't think you're in the situation to be making short jokes" he said while putting his forearm on the top of your head and leaning on it.

"OK WOOOW big talk small guy" you said while elbowing him in the gut. In reaction to this he bent down in pain clutching his stomach.

You lifted his chin up with your hand and kissed him.

"Well, I don't mind being hit in the gut if this comes after" he told you as you both stood and he put his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him.

"You really look amazing" he said while looking at you. And this time it was truly you. Without the binder and yet still feeling amazing.

"Thank you" you whispered back as you two touched your foreheads together.

"Sooo...what do you say we celebrate my boyfriend finally feeling good in his body" he said after some time smiling cheekily.

"Oh, I'd be more than happy too my love." You smirked back as he took your hand and lead you to you guys's bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YALL THIS IS DEFINITELY ONE OF MY MOST FAVS HAZBIN FICS I HAVE EVR WRITTEN ITS SO SWEET😭

I LOVE LUCIFER SM🫠

Its also the first trans man fic I have ever written (which is quite sad looking at the fact that I'm a trans man myself😭)

BUT I SHALL DO BETTER IN THE FUTURE I PROMISE🫡🏳️‍⚧️🧡

Also I just wanna thank you guys again for all the love yall are amazing fr🥹🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male y/n #trans man #trans reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #lgbtqia #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 months ago

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The Cracking of a Cold Heart

Summary: "Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad." – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Reader's 1st person POV)

Warnings: None. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,804

A/N: So, while watching an episode of Criminal Minds the other day, the above quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was at the opening of the episode and it just struck me as very Dean. 😢 So, I had to write him something. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

“You're still awake?”

I asked the obvious question as I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table, slowly swirling amber liquid inside a crystal glass.

He nodded. “Yep. You too.”

“Yeah, I just came to get some water; it's so dry in this bunker, don't you think?”

Dean just grunted.

“Maybe we could add some humidifiers, or something.” I said awkwardly.

A shrug was my only answer.

Dean's rough, coldness still made me nervous around him sometimes, especially when he was in an overly grumpy or frosty mood like this. Even though we'd been working together for a year and roommates for at least half that time, I always felt like I just annoyed the hell out of him.

I decided I should just go and leave him alone with his whiskey. I poured my glass of water quickly and nodded towards him as I left.

“K, goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

I went back to my bedroom, just down the hall from Dean's, and sighed as I walked through the door. I really wanted things to be different. I wanted to make him like me.

Actually, what I really wanted was to make him love me.

But I'd settle for getting more than grunts and one word answers from him most of the time.

He’d always been gruff with me, never seemed to want me around. It was always Sam that let me know about hunts and invited me along. And every time I joined them, Sam had to fight his brother to let me leave the car when they got out to fight the bad guys.

He clearly thought I was a shitty hunter too.

So, he'd surprised me with how quickly he'd agreed to let me stay at the bunker when I told the boys about a demon I was dealing with that seemed particularly fixated on me. Sam convinced me it was safest there and Dean had agreed, though he was scowling the whole time. I couldn't help but think he only let me stay cause he didn't want me to die.

Not wanting me to die wasn't exactly friendship, but I supposed it was better than not caring one way or the other. So, I'd agreed to move in. The demon had been taken care of quickly with the boys help, but I stayed on.

I liked it there, and despite Dean's usual attitude towards me, I was happy in the bunker. Sam and Dean were funny and their dark, sarcastic humor, especially Dean's, often made me laugh in situations that would otherwise demand only horror.

It was also the safest I'd ever felt.

Because no matter how he felt about me, I knew beyond a doubt that Dean would always have my back and look out for me. That was just the kinda guy he was.

If only I could actually make him want me around.

An idea dawned on me as I climbed back into bed. Maybe that was why Dean wasn't warming up to me. Maybe he felt like I was overstaying my welcome there. It made sense; they'd invited me to stay while I was in danger, and then I just never left.

I was embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I would talk to the boys in the morning, I decided, and then fell into a restless sleep, thinking about where I'd end up when I left.

The next morning I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table in the exact same spot as the night before, his whiskey replaced with a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” I said shyly.

“Mmm.” Dean said around his cup as he took a sip.

I started to get things together to make my breakfast, looking over my shoulder. “I'm making oatmeal, did you want some?”

Dean shook his head. “N’ah. M’good.” He mumbled in his deep, craggy voice, staring at the table.

“Okay.” I said, sighing at his usual taciturn answer.

I put the water on to boil, salting it slightly, and then turned back to him just as he stood up and walked towards me. He drained his cup along the way and then reached past me to put it in the sink.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath as he leaned close and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. God, why did he always have to smell so good? Why did he have to radiate warmth from his big, broad, flannel-covered chest, so that I desperately wanted to cuddle into him.

Completely unaffected, Dean turned to leave, but I put my hand out, touching his arm to stop him from going. I could feel an almost imperceptible flinch from him and I pulled my hand back, embarrassed that he was literally recoiling from my touch.

“Sorry.” I said as my cheeks got pink. “I was wanting to talk to you and Sam. Do you know when-”

Just then we could hear the screech of the bunker door as Sam returned from his morning run.

“Perfect timing.” I said with an awkward chuckle.

I left the kitchen, glad that Dean followed so I could talk to them both at once. We met Sam at the bottom of the stairs. He pulled out his ear bud, still breathing deeply.

“Hey.” He said with a small smile. He looked back and forth between me and Dean. “What's up?”

“Oh nothing, really.” I said, waving away the conversation's importance. “I just wanted to talk to you guys. I've…well, I was thinking about it and I realized, I mean now that there's no demon tracking me, no one threatening me, I should probably move out. You know?”

Sam scowled and shook his head. “We're hunters, we're always under threat. This is still the safest place for you. Why would you leave?”

I shrugged. “Well, I mean, I've been here a long time.” Sam scoffed at that, but I continued. “And I don't wanna…you know. I just think I should get out of your hair.”

“Don't be stupid. You're not in our hair. You should stay. Right, Dean?” He asked his older brother.

I looked back at Dean and he didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the ground. Then he shrugged and looked up. His face was the same cold, indifferent mask I'd seen him wear so many times before.

“If she wants to go, can't stop her.”

I smiled thinly, a small pinch of hurt starting in my chest.

“Yep,” I said in a cheerful tone. “Can't stop me.”

Sam started to speak, but I waved him away. “No. Seriously, I should get my own place. But I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here for so long.”

I stood on tiptoe to give Sam a kiss on the cheek and then tossed Dean a smile which was all I could manage before taking off, heading back to my bedroom so I could start looking for a new place to live.

About an hour later, as I was on my computer looking at apartments, there was a light knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called, expecting Sam's tall frame to walk through. Instead the door swung open and Dean was there.

I was shocked and I set my laptop down beside me on the bed, sitting up straight. Not once in the six months I'd lived there, had Dean knocked on my door; nor had he ever sought me out for anything.

“Hi.” I said lamely.

He nodded at me as he walked slowly into the room.

We were quiet for a moment before I cleared my throat. “Do you need something?”

Dean pushed out his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“I, uh…I wanted to…Sam said that he thought you were…” He rolled up onto the balls of his feet a couple of times as he paused.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow and Dean scowled, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms over his chest. The flannel pulled tight across his shoulders and biceps, thoroughly distracting me.

But then he spoke roughly and brought my attention back to him.

“Sammy thinks you're just leaving cause of me, so I need you to tell him it's not true.”

I wasn't surprised that Sam had read me so well, he wasn't easily fooled and I often thought he might know about my unrequited feelings for Dean.

But I shook my head. “No, of course not. It's not you. It's just time.”

Dean nodded and looked away. “K well, tell my dipshit little brother that will you, so he gets off my back?”

He sounded angry and for some reason his anger annoyed me. I was moving out, leaving, just so that he’d be happy, and he still wasn’t.

“Sure.” I attempted a teasing tone, but it didn’t really work. “I'll get right on it. Right after I find a new place to live.”

Dean scowled at me again, but this time I scowled back.

Something seemed to occur to Dean and though his voice was rough, he sounded slightly shocked when he spoke. “You are leaving because of me. Why?”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck like that. “Oh, I don't know Dean. I can't imagine why I'd think you don't want me around when you're always so warm and welcoming. Always so eager to chat and hangout. I must just be crazy!”

Dean's frown etched deeper on his brow. “So you're leaving cause I'm not acting like your bestie? I'm not friendly enough for you?”

“I’m leaving because you hate me and obviously don’t want me around!” I shouted.

Silence rang out and my embarrassment filled it. I stood up from my bed and brushed past him, calling back to him as I left.

“Look, don't worry about it. I'll tell Sam it's not your fault so he leaves you alone.”

I left quickly, but I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't stay in my bedroom with Dean there, but I didn't want to run into Sam either. So I ended up hiding in the gym, hoping neither of them would find me there.

But that plan didn't work very well, since minutes later Dean strode through the door. I growled slightly in frustration. All I wanted was to avoid further confrontation about this.

My voice was quiet, trying to discourage any more conversation. “Look, let's just leave it alone, okay? It's fine.”

“No it's not.” Dean responded.

I let out a little huff. “I’ll be gone in a few days, and everything can just go back to normal for you guys.”

Dean stared at me. “No it won’t. I don't want you to go.”

I scoffed and stood up from the bench. “Dean, enough. I told you it's fine. I'll make sure Sam doesn't blame you.”

I walked towards the door, aware I was going to have to get past him to leave. I gave him a wide berth but he sidestepped to intercept me.

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated quietly.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically. “If you say-”

In a blink Dean grabbed hold of my upper arms and yanked me forward so that I stumbled into him, gasping. His mouth crashed down on mine and I squealed in surprise.

He kissed me hard and quick, stroking up into the roof of my mouth with his wide tongue and then ripping himself away from me.

He was breathing hard as he stared down at me and spoke in a rough whisper.

“I don't want you to go.”

I just blinked at him, confusion overwhelming me. “What…what are you…what?”

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated for the fourth time. “But you should go. You should run long and far and never look back.” His voice sounded desperate.

I was so confused. “What are you talking about?”

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me again slowly, sweetly. I started to comprehend what was actually going on and I felt like my mind was going to explode. He left me reeling, my whole world turning upside down in disbelief as he pulled away from my lips to bury his face in my neck and kiss his words into my skin.

“God, Sweetheart, all I dream about is you; you're all I see when I close my eyes. But you can't stay; you can't love me back.”

I listened to his words as I dropped my head back so he had better access to all the sensitive spots on my neck.

“…you can't love me back…”

My voice was breathless and bemused as I spoke. “But you don’t love me…you can't love me…you don't even like me.”

Dean pulled back to look me in the eye and I was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly glassy. I shook my head again, though I didn't know why I was trying so hard to deny his words when they were what I'd wanted to hear for so long.

But I continued. “No, it’s not possible.” I said. “You don't like me. You're always angry at me, cold and distant. You think I'm a shitty hunter; I'm a burden and liability to have with you on cases.”

I was shaking my head. “You leave me in the car!”

Dean closed his eyes and spoke quietly. “I leave you in the car because when you're with us I'm completely distracted trying to make sure nothing happens to you; I can't do my job properly. And I'm cold and distant with you because…”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Because I know I can't have you.”

For the first time since I'd known him, I could easily read the emotion swirling in his deep, forest green eyes. And what I saw was just immense sadness.

He shook his head. “I can't have you.”

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t have me’? Says who?” I asked croakily, my throat constricted.

His jaw clenched and he looked away from me, over my shoulder. “Every single person that's been ripped out of my life since I was four years old. And the list is long, so very long. They're all telling me over and over that loving you is a selfish, impossible daydream. They're screaming at me from the grave, reminding me that trying to hold on to you is going to get you killed.”

He was staring past me as though he could actually see the ghosts that haunted him, could hear their words of warning.

“You know,” I said with a sniffle as my eyes and nose started watering, “I think that might be the most you've ever said to me at one time.”

Dean let out a puff of air that wasn't quite a laugh, and he shook his head again. “I don't want you to go, but you should go.”

I swallowed several times, the tears still flowing as I realized that all of this was really happening.

He loved me. Truly.

Finally I dashed away my tears and sniffled again. “Not a chance, Dean Winchester. You say you love me? Well, great, cause I love you too.”

He pulled in a stuttered breath and I could see the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again and I took the chance to steal a kiss, pressing close to him and winding my arms around his neck.

He let out what I hoped was a groan of capitulation and wrapped his arms around my ribs, squeezing me to him tightly and deepening the kiss. His tongue swept through my mouth, exploring every inch, pulling soft moans from the back of my throat as I raked my nails through his hair and he shuddered against me.

After kissing me senseless for several minutes, he broke it off so we could both suck air into our starving lungs. He rested his forehead against mine and I could still hear the sadness in his voice and it made my heart ache.

“If you stay here with me, you can’t ever leave. Okay? Promise me if you stay, if we love each other out loud, promise me it'll be okay. That I won’t have to live without you, that you’ll always be safe.”

He touched my lips briefly with his, and then spoke against them, whispering. “I couldn’t take it. So promise. Even if it's a lie. Promise me anyway.”

“I promise.” I told him with my whole heart, and sealed it with a kiss.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 * @alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly * @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya * @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

* @whimsyfinny * Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear * Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 * @waywardcheshire @libby99hb * Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 * @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester * @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester

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pinkthrone445 · 5 months ago

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-Baila conmigo-

(Dance with me)

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fun, soft, first time knowing someone

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:Mel finds you sad in a bar and decides to step in, not knowing that life will bring you back together again.

(This is the song that they dance together)

One more month without a job call, you had tried in all the schools and positions and no one accepted your degree because you were from another country which they did not consider very superior although you had an excellent and valid degree.

Your mother's voice resounded in your head like a drum, she insisted over and over again that if you left the country your degree would be useless and you would end up working in something you didn't like or that you would end up returning to your country devastated and sad. As you emptied your glass in one gulp, you took her words into consideration and thought about whether it would be the right thing to go back home. The money you had set aside to go live there was about to run out and it was time to make a decision about your future, a pretty quick decision.

It was already late and you were too drunk to decide at the moment, you sighed and leaned your head against the table, how sticky it was made you sigh again. The noise of a glass being placed near you made you raise your head again, a redhead on the other side of the bar was smiling empathetically at you, with a bit of worry in her eyes

-"It's on me"-she said pointing at the drink beside you, it was the same that you were drinking before-"It looks like you need it"-You frowned

-"And you don't look like my bartender..."-you answered and she laughed, a gorgeous soft laugh that you could hear over the music

-"That's because I'm not... I'm on this side of the bar because I'm the bartender's sister... He is an asshole, but putin up with him has privileges, like free drinks"-she said with a gorgeous smile that distracted you for a few seconds

-"I appreciated, but I already had too many... And I still don't feel better... I think it's time to go home" - You answer and she looked at you curious

-"What are you trying to escape from with the drinks?"-she pointed all the empty cups by your side

-"Home... Reality... Being a unsuccessful grown-up?" - You answer looking at the drink with love and want

-"I feel you" - she answered and walked to the other side of the stool to sit beside you with a beer in her hand-"I'm far away from where I picture myself years ago...but that doesn't mean I'm unsuccessful or that you are, you have many years ahead of you yet, plenty of time to figure it out" - she said with a smile and you took the drink

-"I feel like a failure right now, I came here to get a nice job and be happy and now I'm drowning my sorrows in a glass while I reconsider going back to live with my mom"-You muttered embarrassed under your breath

-"I had to get a roommate to help me pay the rent because the money I do is not enough, who is more pathetic? Keep in mind that I'm much older than you" - she laughed drinking from her bottle

-"Hey, this is not a competition, let me be the sad one tonight" - You jocked and you both laughed-"Thanks for the drink... And for the company, you are helping more than the 4 glasses that I already had... Also, for being way older than me, you are very hot"-You said and she looked at you surprised

-"Are you flirting with me right now? You don't even know my name" - she said nervously

-"First I was admiring you... Second, we already stablish that I'm very pathetic, so I had nothing to lose if I said that... And third, I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you" - You said having another sip and she laughed

-"I'm Melissa, nice to meet you too... You are funny" - The redhead looked at your mouth smiling

-"Maybe is the alcohol talking, a few moments ago I was very miserable, but I'm glad to know that I can pursue a clown career if my teaching one still doesn't work" - You slurred your words a little bit

-"I bet they would pay you better that what we teachers make nowadays" - she said finishing her beer

-"Maybe you could be a clown too, you already have the red hair, no need for a wig" - You said without thinking, maybe that would have offended someone else, but instead made her laugh

-"I like you kiddo, you would be definitely a good kid's teacher...witch is your specialty?" - she asked curious

-"I'm a Spanish teacher..."-you looked at her, her eyes were green with little brown dots and the fluorescent lights of the club made them shine in a particular way that made you feel attracted like a moth to the light.

-"Ohh that's cool" - she smiled and you looked the other way

-"It would be cool to find a job with it"-You insisted and she slapped your arm-"Hey!"

-"Stop mopping about it, more chances will come" - She commented to you and you grabbed her hand with a frown

-"Just because you're pretty doesn't give you the right to hit me miss"-You said leaning closer to her squinting your eyes at her, she pulled the arm that you were holding to bring you closer

-"But being pretty has worked for me many times to get out of many things, are you sure that I can't hit you? I bet you would love it in a different situation in a different part of your body" - she flirted back and you smiled looking at the way her lips moved when she talked and how her tongue licked her lips to make them look more shiny and full, you were about to lean more but she pressed her hand on your shoulder stopping you from going any further - "Do you know how to dance?" - she asked and you nodded a little bit dizzy-"Take me to dance then, a Spanish song is playing and I want to know what it says and also how to dance it properly"-she demanded and you laughed standing up and reaching for her hand

-"Whatever the lady wishes" - The redhead got up from her chair smiling as you directed her to the dance floor. You knew the song that was playing very well, you had heard it too many times in your house growing up, it was one of those songs that your mother played at home that you hated but when you grew up you started to sing and love.

The song started slowly and you brought her closer to you by running your hands over her soft arms until you reached her hands and took them firmly, bringing her body closer to you and placing one of your hands on her waist, leaning her hips a little to yours. You gently moved your hips from side to side making her follow you to the rhythm of the beginning of the song while your other hand went up a little and landed on the side of her body almost on her ribs holding her firmly to be able to guide her more easily.

It was funny that the song talked about how no one knew were the night would end, nobody knew what would happen tomorrow, if you would be together or not or if the world would end or not, if you would be the perfect person for each other, end up loving or hating each other... That you should not think too much about the future, this moment was unique and you were alive and you should enjoy that. Nobody could known the end and life was like roulette that will turn no stop, you should let your heart decide what you are feeling tomorrow and just enjoy the present time.

The rhythm began to go faster and you moved away from her to give her a little turn and stick the front of your body to her back making her dance from one side to the other, the redhead followed you well and moved her feet quickly following yours, easily following the rhythm of the salsa you were dancing.

Every time the song slowed down, you stuck her closer to your body so you could gently shake your hips together while you singed the lyrics and when the song went faster, you moved her a little bit away so you could do some spins or some easy tricks. The two complemented each other well and people noticed it and began to make space for the two of you to dance, earning some applause and encouraging comments.

The redhead seemed to enjoy the dance and the attention as she had a smile from ear to ear and her hands squeezed yours every time she looked into your eyes, eyes that shone in a particular way with a lot of joy.

When the song ended you gave her a little spin and a little hug, her laughter reached your ears and that made you smile. You were both agitated from dancing so much but smiling too much. Without letting go of your hand, she pulled you off the dance floor and ordered some lemonades for both of you. The dance and her smile had made you feel sober and quickly awake, so you were grateful that she didn't order something with alcohol in it again.

-"That was so much fun!" - Melissa said over the music and you focused on her smile while you had your drink

-"You surprised me, I thought you didn't knew how to dance that kind of music" - You said laughing and she smiled

-"I've been in a few dancing clases, I never said that I didn't danced, I asked if you knew how to... What did the song say?" - She asked, gently pushing you in a playful way with the side of her hip

-"It talked about how nobody knows about the future and how you should enjoy the present and do what you heart wishes without think too much about it..."-you said and blushed a little bit but the darkness of the bar didn't let it show

-"And what is that your heart wishes right now?" - she asked grabbing your jacket and pulling you closer to her, your eyes immediately went to her lips-"Maybe a kiss?" - she played and you nodded, too dumb to speak-"That would be only fair after such an amazing dance" - she said before slowly getting closer to you and pressing her lips to yours, thing that you inmediatly reciprocated grabbing her waist and bringing her closer. Her lips were a little bit salty for the heat of the dance and a little bit sour for the lemonade, but at the same time it was sweet with a cherry taste from her lipstick, it was addictive. Your hands clenched more to her body at the same time the kiss grew more deep. She parted her lips a little bit and you swipe your tongue in her lips after getting in her mouth. Her tongue danced with yours even more expertly that the dance you had minutes ago. Her hand went to your neck and her nails scratched the skin softly and playfully, making you whimper, thing that made her smile on your lips.

You wanted to keep kissing her all night long, but time run out when her phone rang. With an annoyed moan, the redhead pulled away a little and looked at her messages, her happy face diminished a little and she gave you a sympathetic smile

-"My roommate it's waiting for me outside, tomorrow we have to work and I don't have my car here, I'm sorry..."-she said and you smiled caressing her waist

-"Don't worry, thank you for making me feel better, I had a lot of fun" - You said honestly and she put on her jacket

-"Thank you for the dance...Do you want to go out tomorrow?... if you are still here in the country..."-she asked messing with you and you nodded smiling-"I'll send you a message then" - she comment and gave you a last peck before going away.

You were too happy and she was too rushed to realize that you hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, thing you didn't realize until the uber dropped you at your home.

As you changed and removed your makeup, you couldn't help but smile from remembering the things and the fun time you spent together.

When you got inside your bed, you were about to fall asleep when your cell phone rang lighting up your room, when you picked it up and opened your email, you almost jumped out of bed when you read that you had a job offer, at an elementary school replacing a teacher, for the next day. You quickly got out of bed to look for an appropriate outfit and leave things ready for the next day, you knew that it would be difficult to sleep now with such much excitement.

Thoughts about the redhead and her kisses took a back seat when you started planning the next day's classes.

The next morning, even though you had slept little, the excitement made you feel fresh as a lettuce. When you got out of your car you put your bag over your shoulder and squeezed the straps in your hand, with the other, you took your necklace, giving a small kiss to the medal you had around your neck to ask for good luck before entering the building.

Before you could take a step inside, some firefighters arrived and took everyone out of the school, confused you waited outside with some of the students. While you waited, you started talking to some of the teachers to learn a little bit about the kids and the classes. Some of them explained you a few things and were happy to have a new teacher in the school, others were talking about what caused the alarms to go off and didn't payed attention to you. They only stoped talking when they were being interrupted when one of the fire captains walked through the school doors

-"Okay... So, apparently one of the students had been smoking in the bathrooms and activated the smoke alarm..."-he said but you immediately stoped paying attention to him when you saw a special redhead walking behind him, like the sight of an oasis in the desert, that familiar face gave you a little peace to see her there... And also a little/much anxiety

-"We found the little rascal with Melissa, she sniffed him out" - one of the other teachers said

-"One sniff and I'm back to when..."-Her gaze met yours and for a moment her mind was filled with memories from the night before and she forgot how words were used - "Back... To... Nevermind, the important thing is that we found him"-she said and looked the other way avoiding your eyes going with another older teacher.

After some time and talks, the school resumed it's course.

Ava stopped you at the entrance to give you your pass and explain a couple of things that you almost didn't hear because you were focused on the redhead who was bringing the children to her classroom

-"... And Melissa is the other second grade teacher, so if you need help, you can ask her, because I can't help you... I mean, I can but I don't want to"-The principal said and you nodded smiling to her shily before walking away to your classroom to meet the children, looking sideways at the redhead who stopped next to the school principal once you were gone

-"She is hot, isn't she?" - Ava said checking you out while you walked away and Melissa looked at her frowning

-"Isn't that inappropriate to say at school about one of your coworkers?" - The redhead asked and Ava laughed

-"No if she doesn't hear it... Besides, I saw how you looked at her... Maybe she can feel uncomfortable with that too"-The principal remarked and the redhead rolled her eyes and went to her classroom, thinking what would be the appropriate way to address you now that you would be working there.

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I'm back bitches! Bye

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