#like thanks for the reminder! i promise i don’t need to lose more weight but thank you youtube for the ad!

[lesbianpegbar]

i’m for the most part way too complacent in living in our current digital hell but idk getting targeted weight loss ads on my phone the day after my doctor told me i was losing an unhealthy amount of weight really pushes that line yknow

[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

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“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

[harryssyndrome]

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo @cherryloveshs | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made Ashley’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

[navybrat817]

For the dialogue prompts, how about our Bucky with 17. "I can't lose you, baby. I've already lost too much." ? Please and thanks wonderful Miss Navy!!!

Some Days

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets scared some days that he'll lose you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mild sexual content, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: An overprotective prompt ficlet that could turn into more. Nat, I hope you like it ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky took you right to bed when he came home safely from his recent mission. Some days he needed to forget the weight of the unfair burdens he carried. As many times as he was unwillingly wiped, he would forever remember the horrors. The nightmares served as a reminder. He didn’t want to let them consume him.

He would drown in sorrow if he did.

“One more, baby,” he ordered gruffly, thrusting deep and helping you ride out your orgasm. “Give me one more.”

Some days forgetting meant taking you until he had his fill. He still had your hand above your head, your fingers laced together as he stretched his body over yours. He pulled another orgasm from you before he filled you to the brim. Pinned beneath him, you remembered that you belonged to him. And he’d never forget that he had someone worth fighting for.

Someone worth protecting.

“Talk to me,” you urged, focusing on him through the fog of pleasure.

“I get scared some days,” he whispered, still buried inside you.

“You? Scared?” You asked, touching his cheek. Like always, he leaned into your hand. Where one of you went, the other followed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It's true. Because some days I wake up and I worry when you're not there beside me,” he said, his voice as gentle as his kisses. “I can't breathe properly until I see your face or hear your voice.”

The wonderful ache between your thighs was a contrast to the one in your heart at his stormy gaze. Ghosts haunted the man you loved, but you would find ways to chase them away. “I don’t want you to worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”

“My job is dangerous and I’m not always here,” he reminded you. There was always the chance that he’d never come home to you. But wasn’t life in general unpredictable? “I have enemies.”

“I know. And I know how to protect myself. You taught me, remember?” You pointed out. He made sure you knew how to fight. “And I'm still not going anywhere, Bucky.”

You gasped when he shifted his hips, his weight settling over you. “I can't lose you, baby,” he said, his eyes so intense that you nearly shrank under his gaze. But you weren’t afraid of how much he loved you because you loved him just as strongly. “I've already lost too much.”

Bucky Barnes lost almost everything. Time. Family. Autonomy. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve it.

He deserved love and you’d be there to give it to him.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered.

He sighed, your words like a balm to an invisible wound. “Still love me?”

“Always,” you promised, pulling him down for a tender kiss.

Bucky was home and you would wake up beside him in the morning, but life was unpredictable. Someone would try to take you away soon. Someone with a grudge against the man who captured your heart.

And that someone would soon discover that messing with Bucky’s girl was a death wish.

Who do we think is dumb enough to go after Bucky's girl? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[honeydjarin]

(I’LL GIVE YOU THE MOON)

OPLA SANJI X READER

You owe Sanji a dance and he intends to have it Or A flirt is going to flirt (that doesn’t mean he’s not yours)

genre: fluff, mild angst

warnings: smoking, drinking

word count: 1,500

a/n: I wasn’t expecting the first part to receive so much love! Thank you everyone who took the time to leave such kind comments. This fic takes place after Bring Me the Sun, but it was planned as a separate one shot and can be read as such.

PART I: BRING ME THE SUN

You stand on the back deck of the Going Merry, the round faces of Nami’s tangerines staring at you from either side. The moon joins in, its face glowing more gold than silver where it hangs just above the horizon. You think it’s a full moon.

Maybe that’s why you feel like you're losing yourself. 

You’re alone on the ship—or you’re supposed to be—while the rest of the Straw Hat Crew are out at a bar, enjoying a little downtime between wild adventures. Yet even here, surrounded by only the sound of water lapping at the stern, the sweet tangerines swaying in the low breeze, and the silent gaze of the moon, you are haunted by the man that consumes your head and your heart. 

You can still feel the heat of his hand against your lower back, the curve of his fingers on the nape of your neck, the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You can still feel the brush of his hair against your cheek as he leaned in close for you to hear him over the music. Despite the fresh air, the smoke of his cigarette still fills your nose (or maybe that’s a phantom too). Even now, with so much distance between you, Sanji’s touch still lingers. 

It’s so easy to feel like you’re special when he’s near you, like you’re the only one he sees when he turns his soft gaze your way, lips curling in an easy smile. The way he speaks makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world he could ever have eyes for. Like you’re the person he holds closest to his heart—just as haunted as you are. 

And then he stands up, offers to get you another drink, saying: “It’s the least I can do for someone so beautiful.” 

You’re left watching as he turns that smile towards a stranger getting a drink next to him, eyes gleaming as he laughs, and you wonder if you’re just another one of his friendly flirtations. Maybe that gentle fondness that softens his features when he looks your way isn’t that at all, but merely the familiarity of being with a friend.   

You want to be his friend. You also want to be so much more. 

You couldn’t stay at the bar tonight, despite leaving Sanji with a full glass and a broken promise that you half hope he remembers. You needed space to think, to breathe. Sanji would have made his way back to you, he always does, but your mood had soured too much to play it off as simply being tired. You walked past a drunkenly dancing Usopp on your way out the door and wished you could be as carefree as him. 

The chill of the night air starts to seep into your skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh. Still, you remain. You stay there when you hear the rest of the crew return, voices loud in their drunken haze, carrying across the ship even as they descend to the sleeping quarters. You’re still there when silence settles once again. 

Footsteps trail up the stairs, coming to a halt not far behind you. When you turn, you see Sanji standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, eyes taking you in. It’s impossible to tell what he’s feeling in the low light. 

“What are you doing out here?” you ask. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” he says. 

“I don’t think I will either,” you admit. You turn your attention back to the moon. It’s higher now, glowing bright enough to drown out the stars around it. 

Sanji steps closer, closing the distance between you. He leans against the railing beside you, staring out at the moon. The heat of his arm inches from yours is enough to remind you of how cool the air really is, and you shiver. 

“You’re cold,” he says, and you nod, unable to face him. Without a word, he takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders, the fabric helping to chase some of the chill away, but not all. Once again you’re left wondering if this is just a friendly gesture, or if it could ever mean something more. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

“Will you look at me?” Sanji asks. You nod again, but turning to face the man who is always in your thoughts is more difficult than you expect. Instead you clutch his jacket closer, seeking comfort for a problem of your own making. 

When you still don’t move, Sanji takes your cheeks in his hands, thumbs stroking gently along their curve, guiding you to look at him. His hold prevents you from turning away. 

His hair glows silver in the low light, like a halo—beautiful. Your skin warms beneath his touch despite the ache in your heart. The chef’s own cheeks burn red, the wine he drank throughout the night settling just beneath his skin in a rosy flush that you long to press your lips to, if only to feel the heat of him. 

It takes all of your willpower to keep from leaning forward and kissing him right then and there. Liquid courage leaves you sticky with affection and with inhibitions dulled just enough to risk acting on your desires. It’s the little voice in the back of your head that reminds you you’re just a friend that keeps you from pulling him closer. 

“You promised me a dance tonight,” Sanji says, words laced in disappointment. 

“Did I?” you play dumb. You can’t help but hope the wine has stained his memory, not just his cheeks. It’s merely wishful thinking—a couple of glasses isn’t enough for Sanji to get drunk, just enough to go soft around the edges.

He hums. “You did. And then you left before we could.” 

“I needed to get some air,” you claim. 

“I thought things were going well, that we were having a good time. Together.” All traces of flirtation and charm have vanished from the chef’s features, leaving nothing but unclouded honesty behind. His usually crystalline eyes are dark in the night, their usual light gone and instead filled with confusion as he looks into your own. 

Guilt settles in your stomach like a stone. Of course your actions hurt him. 

“We were,” you admit. “But I got scared.” 

Even in the dark, you can see the moment your words sink in, recognition sparking in Sanji’s eyes, and then something more, something softer. Your favorite smile curls on his lips and you can’t help but stare. 

Sanji starts to remove one of his hands from your cheek, but before he can your own hand reaches up, keeping it there. It’s selfish, you hurt him—hurt yourself too, with all of your overthinking. 

He looks at you so fondly. He always does.  

“You know I mean it, right darling? Every word. You’re beautiful.”

The ache that held itself in your heart since leaving the bar eases, fading into a mere whisper. He isn’t looking at you like a friend, or some stranger in a bar. He’s too honest right now, and it’s all the reassurance you need. At least for a little while.   

Once again you’re overcome with the need to kiss him, and this time you do. You lean in, and before you have a chance to doubt your decision, Sanji meets you halfway. 

His lips are soft and warm against yours, better than you imagined. He tastes like the smoke of his cigarettes. Not a phantom—this is real. It’s like a balm for your heart that dreamed of this moment for so long.

When you finally pull back, his eyes are shining bright enough that you swear you can see the moon in them. Or maybe it’s you who is moonstruck. Either way, you can’t stop your own lips from curling into a smile, a laugh bubbling up your throat and spilling out into the night. 

You want to kiss him again, so you do. When you pull back this time, Sanji’s lips find your cheek, pressing a kiss there too with a murmur of “you really are too sweet to me.” 

When Sanji pulls back again, just enough to take in your lovesick state, he adds, “You promised me a dance.”

He sways you slowly, barely rocking more than the boat’s natural rhythm in the tide, his smile never dropping for a minute. There’s no music to guide you, but you’re too caught up in each other to care. 

“I’m pretty sure the music at the bar was faster,” you joke.

“Was it? I think I prefer this speed.” As if to emphasize his point, Sanji pulls you even closer, tucking you against his solid form. 

When you left the bar, you didn’t expect your night to end so perfectly. Surrounded by only the sound of water lapping at the stern, the sweet tangerines swaying in the low breeze, and the silent gaze of the moon—there is nowhere else you would rather be. 

a/n: I think Sanji would still be a charmer even if he was interested in someone/in a relationship. That doesn't mean he wouldn't be loyal to his love.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Hi!! ^^

May I request the Ghouls with a s/o (masc or amab pref or gn!) who often times struggles to sleep with nightmares/night terrors and heavy insomnia? Where it’s come to the point reader would rather just stay awake than trying to sleep? (Comfort fluff with this prompt just sounds edible to me..)

Thank you, have a good day!

OH HEY MARY WRITING FOR GHOST AGAIN ITS BEEN A WHILE!!!

The Ghovie has breathed life into my love for Ghost again, what can I say.

Nameless Ghouls x GN reader

Reader that struggles with nightmares ~ headcannons.

Under the cut <3

Mountain tries to let you deal with this on your own at first. He wants you to know you can have the space to deal with your troubles in your own time and process them how you need. Ultimately though, if you don’t say anything after a while, he steps in. He’s noticed you’re just not sleeping and it’s upsetting him. Humans need their rest more than ghouls do, his human needs their rest and he will make sure you are getting it. He makes the most lovely balms and oils, the plants he uses sourced right from the greenhouse on the church grounds. He has good intentions, you know he does. When he tells you all about the plants he used to make them, and how they’re proven to help humans sleep. Or, at the very least, to relax their bodies and minds enough to welcome sleep. But you’re still a little skeptical and he can’t blame you. He runs you a bath and adds his oils into the running water for you, lets you soak it up and breathe it in for as long as you like. He gets you out of the bath himself, dressing you in his clothes and rubbing his newly made balms all over your warm skin. If the balms themselves don’t work, his hands massaging your body certainly does. His presence is relaxing enough, but his massive warm hands on you, kneading into your tired muscles is what quiets your mind a little more. He catches the droopy look in your eyes, your heavy eyelids and sleepy smile on your face. He gets you all tucked in and cozied up against him after pampering you all night, and he’s not shocked to see you’ve fallen right to sleep.

Your mind is quiet all night long and you get your first full night of rest in a long time. He feels better now, knowing that this worked and you now have a little solution. He reminds himself to thank Aether for using some of his Quintessence on the herbs Mountain used, it was a shot in the dark but it seemed to seep into your skin and do exactly what it needed. Now his little human will be well rested.

Rain gets it. He’s been there. It takes you a little while but you open up to him about your struggles and he’s all ears. He’s holding your hands in his and he listens to every word. He wraps you up in big cuddles when you’re done, thanks you for trusting him. But then he shocks you by telling you he’s experienced the same thing before. Nightmares of being sent back to the pit. Of disappointing Papa and losing his pack. They kept him up for days and he was too afraid to sleep, terrified of reliving the nightmares again and again. Sometimes he even still has them, but he’s better about dismissing the nightmare for what it is and reminding himself he’s not going anywhere. That alone takes a big weight off your shoulders, knowing you’ve got someone so close by who knows exactly what you’re going through. And Rain is so kind and gentle with you. He never pushes you to elaborate on your nightmares, or tell him every detail. But the promise alone that he sees you, and he understands, almost brings tears to your eyes.

He lays awake with you all night after that. Never pushes you to try to sleep but instead, he stays up with you and keeps your mind a little busy. He thanks Him that ghouls don’t really need as much rest as humans, embracing his ability to stay up for longer amounts of time. He lets you fall asleep whenever your brain and body finally give out, but he stays awake with your sleeping form even then. Determined to be there and ready to comfort you should you awake after another nightmare. He presses kisses into your warm skin the whole time, hoping your brain will subconsciously recognise his calming presence and give you a damn break for once.

Dewdrop is a little pissed that you’re just awake all night while he’s conked out beside you. Kind of kicks himself for not noticing it sooner, but gets even more annoyed that you’ve just been awake and alone all night dealing with that. You’re telling him that his human has been struggling without him? Yeah, it takes a few for him to process that. The thing about Dew is that he doesn’t really know how to help. He wants to, so bad, but he’s a bit awkward when it comes to helping humans… he’s never really cared that much until he met you. Nighttime rolls around and he just doesn’t go to bed like he usually would. Plays it off as if he just doesn’t feel like going to bed right now and continues lounging around next to you. It’s 1am and he’s still up with you, he decides he wants something to eat and pulls you through the abbey corridors until you reach the kitchens. He whips up some kind of mess of eggs… he tried to fry them but mid way through they all broke and so he scrambled the yokes trying to fix it. You eat them anyway, a full belly doing you some good. He’s happy he was successful in distracting your mind a little bit, he’s learning as he goes with this and he suspects there’s much much more to learn after this too, but for now he’s a little happy he’s doing at least something.

He doesn’t let you see the mess he leaves, instead he leaves the dishes for the kitchen Ghouls to find the next morning and ushers you out of the kitchens and back to his den. It’s then where he pulls you back into bed and just lays with you for a while. He secretly really enjoys moments like this. When it’s quiet and you’re both settled, when he can share secret moments with you that nobody else will ever know of. He ups his body heat to get you cozy, pulling you close and just encouraging you to enjoy it. No pressure at all, just enjoy being with him.

Aether cheats a little. Your beautiful Quintessence Ghoul can’t just stand around while you struggle to have a full night of rest. No way. Not happening. He spends hours upon hours relaxing your mind and body to his liking. A nice evening walk around the abbey gardens. A big dinner that hits the spot perfectly. A long, warm bath paired with the most wonderful massage this ghoul could ever give. And finally, you’re in his clothes and being tucked up into his bed. He asks you first, never wanting to overstep any boundaries with his magic. You give him his green light, you trust him. He never uses it unless absolutely necessary, but tonight he feels his capabilities with his quint magic will be put to some very good use. He starts by carding his claws over your scalp, a few times… to relax you even further. Before he settles them nice and snug pressing into the base of your neck. He focuses, and he worms his way into your mind. You can feel him there, his warmth present within every crevice of your being sends you into slumber faster than you’re ready for, and he uses his abilities to flood your thoughts with (selfishly) images of him. He stays there for a little while, he knows that once he does pull away and gives your mind a rest, his quint will linger for a little bit.

He ends his night lying next to you, eyes on your beautiful face. A face that finally seems relaxed. A face that finally tells him you’ll feel better in the morning. Any guilt he had of using his quintessence for this vanishes, knowing that he did it for something good and his lovely little human will finally have a night of peace.

Swiss is a little less inclined to be upfront about his use of the little bit of quintessence he has due to his multi ghoul abilities. He finds the things he can do with them to be fascinating, but his favourite thing to do is use this ability on you when you least expect it. He knows you’re okay with it, a big talk was had about them a long time ago with promises to speak up should your feelings about him using it change. It’s apart of him, and he enjoys finding new ways he can mess around with you while using them, but sometimes he finds himself in situations where you need them for something a little more mellow. He’s known for ages about your nightmares. He’s seen a few of them while visiting your mind during your sleep to poke about in your dreams. He offered you a world of comfort and distractions, everything you ever needed to take your mind off it and feel better. But the moment he caught on to you being up all night, from struggles of even falling asleep in the first place, he was one unhappy ghoul.

He gets you into bed nice and early the next night, after locking you up in his den and not allowing the world outside to sway him from his plan. You don’t think a thing of it when he pulls you close and gets his claws in your hair. Nor do you realise what the sudden warmth flooding your mind and body is until you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. You’re out like a light within minutes, and you have the most peaceful of sleeps you’ve had in weeks. Swiss’ quint can only go so far, he uses all he can muster to keep your mind quiet and blank for the night to allow for a nice sleep. You’re all wrapped up in him, in his bed, in his den and you’re as safe as physically (and now mentally) possible. He plants big wet kisses on your face, excited to see you well rested in the morning.

Phantom woke up in the middle of the night to find you still awake. He immediately knows something is wrong, you smell different… like how you do when you’re irritated with something. And he thinks it’s him that you’re irritated with. He shot up with about a million questions and didn’t relent until he got some kind of answers from you. He listens to every word you speak so intently, taking it all in and trying to figure out where to go from there. The minute he processes you not being able to sleep he’s already planning about a hundred different ways to tucker you out. He’s pulling you out of bed and getting you into his warm clothes. You’re both out the door of his den and embarking on a nice long walk around the abbey grounds. It’s the super early hours of the morning, none of the early risers are up yet so you both have a few hours to enjoy the stillness of the church you both call home. He keeps you so close, tells you it’s for warmth but you know he’s a big cuddle bug and can’t keep his hands off you for more than five minutes. He talks to you the whole entire time. About everything he could ever think of. He has lots of stories from touring with the band, seeing so many new parts of the world and just things in general he’s learnt after being summoned. He finds human life fascinating and is always telling you new things he’s discovered.

He keeps you busy this way until the sun comes up and the kitchen ghouls are up preparing for breakfast. He walks you slowly back to his den and back to bed. There’s no pressure to fall asleep, but you smell like normal again, like how you do after a lovely little mid day cuddle session, and he knows he must have done something right.

.

.

.

Please excuse any typos or complete nonsense sentences. It’s 1:30 and I was struggling to keep my eyes open while writing the second half of that.

But I’ve missed writing for the ghouls, and watching Rite Here Rite Now made me realise how much I miss that world and writing for it.

I think it’ll take me a little while to rediscover the ghouls and the way I used to write them, but this was fun.

Enjoy my loves.

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (10)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 4.1k

A/n: Blessed yall with a little some<3

___________________

The walk back was quiet at first, each step labored but steady. Jinx broke the silence, her voice soft but teasing. “So, uh, you planning on pulling any more crazy stunts? Or is this the last ‘explode-the-lab’ gig?” 

You chuckled weakly, wincing as you leaned more on her. “No promises.”  

Caitlyn shot Jinx a pointed look. “She’s been awake for all of ten minutes, and you’re already asking for trouble?” 

Jinx smirked. “Just keeping her on her toes, cupcake.”  

You smiled faintly at their banter, your gaze falling to Isha, who was fiddling with the clasp of her helmet. You tapped it gently, drawing her attention. “You kept me sane too, you know.” Your voice was soft, almost reverent. “Thank you for waiting for me.” 

Isha giggled, her helmet bobbing as she nodded.  

When you finally reached your apartment, you paused at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. The others watched you closely as you looked around, taking in every detail. The familiar, worn furniture. The cluttered workbench. The drawings Isha had left by your bedside. It was home, and yet… it wasn’t.  

You walked inside slowly, your movements deliberate. Caitlyn and Jinx exchanged worried glances as you moved to the center of the room and stood still, your hands brushing over the edge of the table.  

“I felt… stuck,” you said suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet. You didn’t turn to face them, your head bowed. “When Viktor took control, it was like… I wasn’t me anymore. I was watching everything happen, but I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop him.”  

You turned then, your expression raw and open. “I was lost. But the two of you…” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. “You were the thread keeping me tethered. Keeping me from slipping away completely.”  

Jinx’s lips parted, her eyes glistening as she opened her mouth to speak, but you shook your head, smiling faintly.  

You reached down, brushing a strand of hair from Isha’s face and tapping her helmet once more. “And you, too, kid. You reminded me what it was all for.” 

Isha grinned, wrapping her arms around your waist.  

You let out a shaky breath, looking between Jinx and Caitlyn with gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of everything you couldn’t say.  

Jinx looked away, her hands on her hips, muttering, “Don’t make me cry, damn it.” 

Caitlyn smiled softly, stepping closer. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re just glad you’re here.”  

But your expression shifted, a quiet determination settling over you as you began gathering a few belongings—a satchel, a jacket, and a small notebook.  

Jinx frowned, stepping forward. “What are you doing?” 

You slung the satchel over your shoulder, turning to face them both. “This isn’t my home.”

Caitlyn blinked, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean? You’ve lived here for years.”  

Your eyes softened as you stepped closer, reaching out to take both their hands in yours. “Home isn’t a place,” you said quietly, your voice steady. “It’s with you. Both of you.”  

Jinx’s breath hitched, and Caitlyn’s lips parted, her eyes searching yours.  

“Wherever you go,” you continued, “that’s where I belong.”  

The room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. And then, Jinx let out a quiet laugh, pulling you into a fierce hug. Caitlyn followed, wrapping her arms around you both, her head resting against your shoulder.  

For the first time in a long time, you felt whole.

The pillow fort was a masterpiece of chaos and comfort, a cocoon of mismatched blankets, glowing string lights, and plush pillows stacked haphazardly. You sat cross-legged inside with Isha, who was busily coloring in her sketchbook, her tiny hands moving with careful focus. Jinx, perched a few feet away at her workbench, tinkered with one of her gadgets. The faint hum of machinery filled the room, blending with the soft scratching of crayons.  

You glanced up from Isha’s drawing—a lopsided rendition of you holding hands with her and Jinx—and found your gaze drifting to Jinx. Without thinking, you stood, brushing off stray bits of fabric, and wandered over to her.  

Jinx didn’t look up as you approached, her hands deftly adjusting screws and wires. You slipped your arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close.  

She stiffened slightly before leaning back into you, her hands pausing mid-movement.  

You pressed a kiss to her temple, your voice soft and warm. “Come spend time with us.”  

Jinx tilted her head, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye with a smirk. “You’re needy today.”  

You chuckled, resting your chin on her shoulder. “And you love it.” 

She set down her tools with an exaggerated sigh, swiveling in her chair to face you. “Fine, fine. But only because Isha’s better company than you.”  

“I’ll take it,” you said, grinning as you tugged her toward the fort.  

Jinx plopped down beside Isha, stealing a crayon and starting to doodle with a mischievous grin. The three of you colored in companionable silence, the occasional jab or laugh punctuating the calm. Jinx would nudge your elbow just as you were drawing, or Isha would scold her for coloring outside the lines.  

After a while, Jinx leaned back on her elbows, her gaze flickering to you with a faintly teasing glint. “So…” she started, drawing the word out.  

You didn’t look up. “So what?”  

She tilted her head. “You’ve been quiet about Caitlyn.”  

That got your attention. You glanced at her, your brow furrowing slightly. “What about her?” 

Jinx rolled her eyes, tossing the crayon she was holding. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You haven’t seen her in what… a week? Two?”  

You looked away, your fingers tightening around the edge of the paper. “She’s busy. I didn’t want to bother her.”

Jinx snorted. “Bother her? You think she doesn’t want to see you?” She sat up, fixing you with a look that was both playful and serious. “You miss her. Admit it.” 

You hesitated before sighing, your shoulders slumping. “I do,” you admitted quietly. “I miss her more than I thought I would.”  

Jinx grinned, satisfied. “Then go see her.”  

You shook your head, though your resolve was already crumbling. “It’s late. She’s probably—”  

Jinx cut you off, leaning in and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. When she pulled back, she smirked. “You’re going. Isha and I’ll hold down the fort. Just be back by tomorrow afternoon, alright?”  

---

The streets of Piltover were quiet as you made your way to Caitlyn’s home, the cool night air wrapping around you. You hesitated briefly at her door, your hand hovering over the wood. Finally, you knocked softly.  

It took a moment, but the door creaked open to reveal Caitlyn, her hair slightly tousled and her silk nightwear catching the faint light from inside. Her blue eyes widened in surprise.  

“You’re here,” she said, her voice soft with disbelief.  

You didn’t respond—not with words. Instead, you stepped forward, cupping her face in your hands. Her breath hitched as your thumbs brushed against her cheeks, and before she could say anything else, you kissed her.  

The world seemed to stop as your lips met. Her hands flew to your shirt, clutching the fabric as if she feared you’d vanish. You poured everything into the kiss—all the longing, the unspoken words, the gratitude for her unwavering presence.  

Caitlyn melted against you, her fingers twisting in your shirt as she pressed closer. Her lips moved against yours, tentative at first but growing more confident. She tasted faintly of tea, her warmth seeping into you like a balm.  

When you finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants. Her hands still clung to your shirt, her eyes searching yours.  

“I thought I’d lost you again,” she whispered, her voice trembling.  

You shook your head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Her eyes glistened, and she nodded, pulling you into another embrace. You held her tightly, grounding yourself in her presence.  

This moment—this intimacy—felt like coming home. 

The warm morning sun streamed through the window, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred, the light warming your skin and coaxing you from sleep. Instinctively, you reached out for Caitlyn, but your hand met only cool sheets. A pang of disappointment settled in your chest as you turned, only to see her standing in the doorway, framed by the soft light.  

She was dressed in a loose robe, her hair slightly disheveled, and her blue eyes were fixed on you with a mix of warmth and something deeper.  

“Couldn’t sleep in?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.  

Caitlyn smiled softly, stepping into the room. “Not with you here.” She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze never leaving you. “Having you by my side last night… in your arms… it felt like everything I needed.”  

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in her tone. You opened your mouth to respond, but she continued, her cheeks tinged pink. “I spent hours just… watching you sleep. Memorizing every detail. It felt selfish, but I couldn’t stop myself.” 

You held out your hand to her, and she crossed the room without hesitation, slipping into the bed beside you. You pulled her close, tucking her against your chest.  

“You know,” you began, your voice soft, “I used to think about the first time we officially met a lot.”  

Caitlyn tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?” 

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “That fight with Garret? I swear, I thought you were about to throw me in a cell and toss the key. But then…”  

“Then I brought you food,” she finished, laughing gently.  

“Exactly,” you said, chuckling. “And it wasn’t just food. It was damn good food.” 

Her laugh filled the room, light and musical, and it struck you how much it affected you—how it melted some unspoken part of you.  

“Then there was the time I made food for you,” you continued, teasing. “You didn’t even blink before going in for seconds. That’s when I knew.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Knew what?” 

You smirked. “Knew you definitely didn’t have a boyfriend.”  

Caitlyn’s laugh came louder this time, and she buried her face against your chest. You could feel the slight shake of her shoulders, and it was impossible not to smile.  

Her laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and she looked up at you, her expression softening. For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to say something, her lips parting hesitantly.  

“What is it?” you asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.  

She shook her head slightly, but her eyes betrayed her. They flicked to your lips for the briefest moment, and you caught it.  

“You’re overthinking again,” you teased, your voice low.  

Before she could protest, you leaned down and kissed her softly. The kiss was tender, unhurried—a silent promise. Caitlyn melted into you, her hands coming up to rest against your chest as she responded, her lips moving against yours with a sweetness that stole your breath.  

When you pulled back, she smiled, her cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help but press another quick kiss to her forehead.  

---

Later, as you dressed to head back to Jinx’s and Caitlyn got ready for work, the air between you was filled with a quiet longing. You caught her watching you more than once, and each time, she looked away with a faint blush.  

At the door, you both lingered, unwilling to part. Caitlyn hesitated, her fingers brushing against yours. “Will you come back soon?” she asked softly.  

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I will. I’ll talk to Jinx—figure out a way to spend time with you both.”  

Her eyes lit up at your words, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. Just as she began to speak, you stepped forward, your hands finding her waist.  

“Wait—” 

You cut her off with a kiss, one that was deeper than before, filled with the promise of your return. When you finally pulled away, you grinned, your voice light with teasing warmth.  

I’ll see you soon, Commander.”  

Without waiting for her response, you slipped out the door, leaving her standing there, her fingers touching her lips, her heart racing.

->

The morning sun cast a radiant glow over Piltover, and for once, Caitlyn strode into the Enforcer headquarters with a spring in her step. Her usually composed demeanor carried a newfound brightness that hadn’t been there in years. Enforcers exchanging reports or standing guard noticed the change immediately.  

“Morning, Commander,” one of them greeted, a hint of curiosity in his tone.  

“Good morning,” Caitlyn replied, her smile soft yet genuine. It was a smile that left those around her exchanging glances.  

Even as she walked through the hallways, handling her duties with her usual efficiency, there was something unmistakably different about her. She hummed softly under her breath, her posture loose and relaxed. She felt lighter, as though the weight of the city’s struggles had shifted—at least a little.  

Ambessa Medarda watched all of this with sharp, calculating eyes. She leaned against a pillar near the training yard, her arms crossed, her imposing frame cloaked in a commanding silence. The woman’s keen sense for power plays and shifting alliances tingled as she observed Caitlyn dismissing officers with quick decisions and navigating problems with ease.  

When Caitlyn finally noticed Ambessa’s presence, she sighed inwardly but kept her composure. “Ambessa,” she greeted, her voice polite but firm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  

Ambessa stepped forward, her expression unreadable but her tone pointed. “You’re glowing today, Caitlyn. I’d even say… radiant. Care to share the secret?”  

Caitlyn’s lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Perhaps I’ve finally found a moment of peace.”  

Ambessa raised a brow. “Peace, you say? That’s a dangerous word in a city on the verge of collapse.”  

The older woman’s probing gaze was relentless, but Caitlyn held her ground, her confidence unwavering.  

“And yet,” Caitlyn replied calmly, “it’s a goal worth striving for. I’ve been working to ensure Piltover and the Undercity don’t just survive—but coexist.”  

Ambessa’s eyes narrowed. “Coexistence? Do you honestly believe that’s possible, Caitlyn? You’ve seen what they’re capable of.”  

Caitlyn’s expression softened for a moment, her thoughts drifting to you and the quiet determination in your eyes. “I’ve seen what they’re capable of, yes. But I’ve also seen their potential when given the chance.”  

Ambessa stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, deliberate tone. “Do you think those alliances you’re building will hold? Jinx, of all people? She’s volatile. She’s dangerous.”  

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened slightly, but she remained steady. “Jinx is more than what people see. She’s capable of change—of building something better. And we’ve already taken the first steps to bring down the barriers that separate us.”  

Ambessa scoffed. “The borders between Piltover and Zaun are there for a reason, Caitlyn. You think tearing them down will lead to peace? It will lead to chaos.”  

Caitlyn took a step forward, her voice steady and sharp. “The chaos has been here for decades, Ambessa. It’s the borders that fuel it. For the first time in years, there’s a chance for hope. For trust. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect that chance.” 

Ambessa studied her, searching for any sign of weakness, but found none. Caitlyn’s resolve was unshakable, fortified by the quiet strength she had found in you.  

Finally, Ambessa’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “You’ve changed. I wonder… who’s responsible for this new Caitlyn?”  

Caitlyn met her gaze with a quiet confidence. “Someone who taught me that peace isn’t just a dream—it’s a choice. One I’m ready to fight for.”  

Ambessa stepped back, a glimmer of respect in her eyes, though it was tempered by her ever-present skepticism. “Then I hope, for your sake, that you’ve chosen wisely.”  

Caitlyn watched as Ambessa strode away, her mind already turning back to her plans. She thought of you—your warmth, your determination, the way you bridged worlds with a strength she couldn’t help but admire.  

As she returned to her duties, the vision of a united Piltover and Zaun became clearer in her mind. It wasn’t just a dream anymore; it was a future she could almost touch, one she knew she could help build—with you by her side.

The quiet hum of the city filled the air in the small rooftop apartment you had kept—a neutral ground, perfectly straddling the line between Piltover’s gleaming towers and Zaun’s gritty sprawl. You sat at the modest wooden table, papers spread out in front of you, your hood pulled back to let the dim glow of the streetlights outside illuminate your face.  

Jinx sat cross-legged on the opposite end of the table, one of the treaty drafts in her hands. Her eyes darted across the text, but every now and then, she glanced at you, her lips twitching into a small smirk.  

“You know,” she said, her voice playful, “if you told me a year ago that I’d be sitting here reading Piltover paperwork with you, I’d have laughed in your face. Maybe blown something up for good measure.”  

You didn’t look up from the page you were reading, but your lips quirked into a faint smile. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you knowing how to read.”  

Jinx let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest. “Oh, the audacity! You wound me, babe.”  

“You’ll live,” you teased back, still focused on the treaty.  

She stuck her tongue out at you before settling down again, though her gaze lingered on you longer this time. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again, her tone softer. “You know... this is kinda crazy, right? Piltover and Zaun trying to make peace? After decades of blowing each other to bits?”  

You finally glanced up at her, setting your pen down. “Crazy doesn’t mean impossible. You’re proof of that.”  

She snorted, but there was a warmth in her eyes. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”  

“About time,” you quipped, earning a laugh from her.  

Jinx leaned back in her chair, holding the paper up and tilting her head as she studied it. “You really think this’ll work?”  

You looked at her, the weight of her question settling between you. “I think... It's a start. A small act of peace can lead to something bigger. And for once, both sides are willing to try. That’s because of you—and Caitlyn. The two of you taking that first step.”  

Jinx’s expression softened in a way you rarely saw. She set the paper down and stood, walking over to you. Without a word, she slid into your lap, her arms draping around your shoulders as she rested her forehead against yours.  

“You know,” she murmured, her voice low and intimate, “I don’t say this enough... but you’re kinda amazing.”  

You raised a brow, smirking. “‘Kinda?’ I’ll take it.”  

She rolled her eyes before pressing a tender kiss to your temple. Her lips lingered there for a moment, and when she pulled back, her gaze was serious. “I mean it. You’ve done something no one else has ever been able to do. You’ve made me... care. About people. About Zaun. About this stupid treaty.”  

You cupped her cheek gently, your thumb brushing against her skin. “Maybe I just reminded you of what was always there.”  

Her lips found yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. The warmth of her body against yours, the way she clung to you as if grounding herself—it was rare for Jinx to show this level of vulnerability, but with you, she let the walls fall.  

When you finally pulled apart, her breath warm against your cheek, she whispered, “You know... I’ve been thinking.”  

You tilted your head, intrigued. “Should I be worried?” 

She smirked, but her tone was serious. “I want you to take Sevika’s spot.”  

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”  

“I’m serious,” she said, her hands tracing idle patterns on your shoulders. “You’d be perfect. You’ve already got both sides listening to you. Zaun trusts you. And if you do it... I’ll be there. By your side. We could do this together.”  

You leaned back slightly, searching her face. “Jinx, this isn’t something I can just decide on a whim. Caitlyn doesn’t even know about this.”  

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “She’ll understand. She loves you. And this? This isn’t just for Zaun. It’s for her too. For both of us.”  

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You were quiet, your mind racing, but as Jinx rested her head against your shoulder, her arms tightening around you, you felt the weight of her trust and belief in you.  

“You don’t have to decide now,” she murmured. “Just... think about it.”  

You nodded slowly, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “I will.” 

And as you held her close, the world outside the apartment seemed a little less daunting, the path forward a little clearer—if only for a moment.

The air buzzed with the sound of chatter and the clinking of tools as merchants worked along the border markets. You found a quiet contentment in assisting a small stall, helping an elderly man and his crippled son stock their wares. It was something you loved—bringing a little ease to those who needed it.  

The old man gave you a grateful smile as you carefully arranged the fragile jars of homemade oil on the wooden table. The boy, his leg bound in a crude brace, watched with wide eyes as you handed him a small, polished toy you had whittled in your spare time.  

“Here,” you said softly. “A little something to keep you busy.”  

His face lit up, and his father clapped a hand to your shoulder, his gratitude unspoken but clear.  

The peace of the moment didn’t last long. Garrett, flanked by a few junior enforcers, strode through the marketplace with his usual swagger. He spotted you immediately, his lip curling in disdain, but his attention quickly turned to the small stand you were helping. With an exaggerated huff, he swiped his hand across the table, knocking several jars to the ground. Glass shattered, oil spilling onto the dusty cobblestone.  

The elder man gasped, his son flinching at the sound. You straightened slowly, your gray eyes narrowing as you looked at Garrett. Your face betrayed no anger, only a cold, neutral calm that sent a ripple of tension through those watching.  

Before Garrett could step away, you crossed the distance between you, your movements deliberate. With one swift motion, your hand clamped around the back of his neck. He yelped in surprise, his bravado crumbling as you dragged him unceremoniously through the market.  

Caitlyn, overseeing the Junior Enforcer Program nearby, caught sight of the commotion. Her sharp eyes immediately locked on Garrett—and then on you, your expression unreadable as you approached.  

You stopped in front of her, releasing Garrett with a firm push that sent him stumbling. Caitlyn’s brow furrowed, but when her gaze met yours, she understood everything in an instant.  

“Enforcer Garrett,” she began, her voice calm but commanding, “what do you think your role is here?”  

Garrett hesitated, his usual arrogance faltering under her piercing stare.  

“To... uphold the law,” he mumbled.  

“Exactly,” Caitlyn said, stepping forward. “To uphold the law. To protect and serve. Not to intimidate. Not to destroy. Your actions today are a reminder of why the divide between Piltover and Zaun exists in the first place.” Her voice carried across the marketplace, drawing the attention of merchants and passersby.  

She turned to the crowd, her gaze firm. “Peace is not just a word. It is an action. A choice we make every day to rise above our differences and treat one another with respect and dignity. If we want a future where Piltover and Zaun can coexist, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard.”  

The crowd murmured in agreement, heads nodding. Garrett looked down, shame written across his face.  

You watched Caitlyn with a quiet pride, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. She was commanding, grounded, and resolute—a far cry from the officer you had first met, yet still very much the woman you had come to love.  

As she finished her speech, she extended her hand to you. You hesitated for only a moment before clasping it firmly, your smirk softening into a genuine smile.  

“Well said, Commander,” you murmured.  

She returned the smile, her fingers lingering against yours for just a second too long.  

The crowd, moved by the display, broke into applause. Piltover and Zaun merchants alike clapped, their cheers echoing through the market.  

You and Caitlyn exchanged one last glance—loving, unspoken, yet entirely professional. The understanding between you was clear: this was just the beginning of what you could accomplish together.  

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

Okay, if you think Cait and the reader slept together? No, not yet- Im saving that for a way better time. Enjoy!

[niabridges]

You Look So Good In My Colours

Warning: MDNI. 18+ 🔞 EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT Word count: ~3800 Pairing: Sebastian Sallow | FemReader

Additional warnings: Rough sex, slapping, possessiveness, submission

We all had a Quidditch Seb fantasy at some point. Here is just me letting out some steam in that direction. Read below or on AO3

Her eyes flew open, heart pounding. Had she imagined it? The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the phantom weight of Sebastian’s arm around her waist... Her fingertips brushed the empty space, still warm, and a shiver ran down her spine. She buried her face in his pillow, breathing deep, the faint scent of his cologne a bittersweet reminder.

She stretched, blinking through the canopy, vision blurring then snapping into focus. Ominis stood by the basin, his usual focus now bent on the careful ritual of shaving. “Morning,” she managed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Morning, dove.” He didn’t turn around, his attention on the razor’s glide.

“Thanks, as always, for…” she trailed off, cheeks warming. How to explain the strange intimacy they’d fallen into? “...for everything.”

Ominis chuckled, a low rumble. “Blind, not oblivious, love.” Still focused on his task. One hand held his chin, the other meticulously dragging the razor across his pale face. “Besides, who am I to begrudge a girl in love a bit of nighttime comfort? Just don’t tell Sebastian I said so. I am keeping a stern attitude with him, otherwise, he’d have you over each night.”

She laughed, tension easing. “My lips are sealed.” Stepping closer, she couldn’t resist the study of him – the focused line of his jaw, the faint dusting of stubble. “Here, you missed a bit. May I?”

“Thanks, love.” He handed her the razor, and a jolt went through her as their fingers brushed.  Carefully, gently, she finished the task, his warmth so close. “You’re better at this than Sebastian ever was,” Ominis murmured leaning down to splash his face in cold water.

“Speaking of which, do you happen to know where he’s sauntered off to?” she asked as Ominis finished patting his face dry.

“Slept in, shamefully,” he admitted. “Not a peep from Sebastian. Odd, that.”

“Slept like a rock myself. Had the nicest dream, though I can’t remember it.” She tugged at her tie. “Ugh, Saturdays are for freedom.” With a toss, the tie landed on the bed.

Ominis straightened his robes. “Any plans for the day?”

“First, a proper wake-up with a bath... then I suppose I’ll try to hunt down Seb,” she shrugged. “What about you?”

“Prefect duties. Someone’s got to keep the chaos in check. Though I might just hide out with you two if you promise more of those… late-night ‘study sessions’.”

She laughed and playfully swatted at him, a blush warming her cheeks. “Must you tease? See you later, Ominis.” A lingering touch on his shoulder, then she was gone.

The common room hummed with the usual Saturday morning chaos as she emerged from the corridor – a heated whisper about a losing chess game, a burst of laughter from the first-years' corner. The air hung sweet with tea and candy. From the top of the stairs, where the seventh-year dorms spilled out, she scanned the scene below, hoping for a glimpse of Sebastian curled by the fireplace, lost in a book. But there was no sign of him, and a sigh escaped her lips.

She turned to enter her dormitory, relieved to find it empty. Then, Imelda’s Quidditch gear sprawled across the floor caught her eye. Of course! Sebastian must have left for Saturday morning practice. She’d find him at the pitch, but first, a bath was desperately needed.

Slipping into the bathroom, she ran a warm, bubbly bath, discarding her clothes in a haphazard pile. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced in the mirror and noticed tiny purple marks on her neck.  Her fingers traced them thoughtfully, thinking back to last night's activities before she turned to lock the door.

Finally, she slid into the water, a sigh escaping her as the warm bubbles enveloped her. As she relaxed her hand instinctively ran over the bump over her wet foamy breast, the touch instigating a nipple to firm up, as her finger slid back over it she felt tingles running through her body. Flicking her finger over her hardened peak her thoughts were on Sebastian again. His musky smell, him towering over her, his greedy hands kneading her breasts. She gasped and bit into her lower lip. 

Her other hand slid underwater to rub in between her aching folds. His voice rang like a deep melody inside her head “That’s it, my siren. Take it all.” And that chuckle of his, damn him. She began to tremble. Eyes tightly shut. The image of Sebastian was clear in her mind’s eye. With a combined effort of rubbing her nipple and her clit she felt a strong tremble rumble through her body. The slightest whimper and a moan escaped her lips as he came undone. Her heart aching to jump out of her chest. She exhaled leaning against the wall of the tub and relaxed, satisfied.

♡♡♡

“Eyes on me, for Merlin’s sake! That Bludger nearly took my head off!” Imelda barked, swooping closer to Sebastian on her broom. “What’s gotten into you, Sallow? I need you focused out here,” she demanded.

Sebastian snapped to attention. “Understood. Sorry.” He repositioned himself, wincing as the broom’s hilt pressed uncomfortably against his groin. Tight Quidditch trousers didn’t help matters either. He gripped the broom tightly, knuckles whitening. Then, a whirring sound from behind – he ducked just as a rogue Bludger whizzed past.

“You’re supposed to hit them, not dodge them!” Imelda yelled. “Bloody hell, Sallow, take five!” She snarled, flying off to regroup with the team.

Sebastian landed, sliding off his broom with an exasperated sigh. He'd been struggling on and off this morning with a particularly stubborn erection and was trying his best to hide that fact from his teammates. However, the ache seemed to worsen when his feet touched the ground. He groaned, feeling the weight and pain in his groin. Panicked, he quickly jumped back on his broom and zoomed toward Madam Kogawa's quarters. Thankfully, he knew she was away at the Ministry this weekend, leaving the quarters empty. He tossed his broom aside and, with a quick Alohomora, he entered inside.

When Imelda turned to scold him, he was gone, panting and leaning against the closed door. Bloody hell, all his blood seemed to rush to a singular spot, churning uncomfortably within him, making him squirm. It was all her fault. This morning when he'd opened his eyes, he'd immediately realized two things: he was running late for practice, and he'd woken up with a... pressing need. His body ached with desire, fueled by the warmth of her pressed against him.

To his great misfortune, this wasn't one of those fleeting morning wood situations. No, this one had persisted throughout practice – for Merlin's sake! He groaned, too afraid to even touch the bulge in his trousers. Carefully he lowered his hand. This was pathetic. Was he really going wank himself off in Kogawa’s office? Yet, he couldn’t go anywhere with his cock outlined against his trousers like that. Damn. Sebastian closed his eyes wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

♡♡♡

She breathed the crisp spring air of fresh grass as she stepped onto the Quidditch pitch. Her eyes fixated on the group of green and white robes, and she quickened her pace hoping Sebastian would be among them. However, he was not.

“Hey Imelda, have you seen Sebastian?” she inquired, positively confused that he wasn’t at the practice.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Imelda retorted, annoyance lacing her voice. “He was slacking all morning and when I told him to get it together, the knobhead ran away! Oh, the audacity!” she scoffed angrily.

“Ran away?” She asked, her confusion growing.

“Yes. Now, if you find him, tell him to get his arse back to the pitch right this second. I’m not finished with him!” Imelda growled, straddling her broom.

As she watched Imelda take off. She scratched her head, the absurdity of the situation dawning on her, as she started to walk back to the courtyard. Her eyes scanned for any sign of him. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t far away. As she exited the Quidditch pitch, she noticed a discarded Slytherin (his) broom near the entrance to Kogawa’s office. She smirked. There you are.

She approached the door and knocked gently, testing her luck. Silence answered from the other side. She knocked again, this time more firmly.

“Who – who is it?” She heard Sebastian’s startled voice.

“It’s me,” she chuckled.

“Oh,” the tone in his voice shifted. He stepped back to the door and unlocked it. When he saw his girlfriend standing there, he thanked the heavens, and a smirk spread across his face. “You’re just in time,” he said in a sultry voice.

He pressed his hand against his aching bulge and breathed in sharply. "Okay, this might sound weird, but I need to be honest. My… uh… lower regions are protesting. Loudly . All because of you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I'm serious! I need release, or I might actually end up in the hospital wing," he groaned, pressing his hand against the trousers where his arousal was tightly confined.

She bit her lower lip, taking in the sight of him. “You could give me a taste of what’s been keeping you in such a... flustered state.” Her grin was wicked, eyes flickering between his trousers and his face.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, a taste, you say?” He licked his bottom lip and stepped closer, grasping her hips and spinning her around. Pressing her back against the door, he murmured, “I'll give you a taste of my fantasies. But first…” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, “Please, let me have a taste of you.” He dropped to his knees, hands sliding her skirt tentatively up her thighs.

She shivered against the cool wood as he began placing feather-light kisses along her inner thigh, breathing in her scent. With each kiss, he worked his way slowly upwards. “Mmm, sweetheart, I’ve been a mess all morning,” he moaned into her skin, the heat of his breath raising goosebumps. “I’ve been bad,” he murmured. “Skipped my practice,” he mumbled as he teased her with tiny kisses against her sensitive area.

“Maybe I’ll have to punish you for that,” she purred, gazing down at him through her lashes, pressing his face closer between her thighs.

Sebastian chuckled, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and a shiver ran through her as he slid them down, gently, yet with undeniable determination. He inhaled sharply, the scent of her arousal intoxicating him. Cursing under his breath, his eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure overwhelmed him.

Slowly, he gripped her thighs, bringing her glistening folds closer to his face, “Mmm,” he moaned “That’s what I love about you. You’re always dripping for me.” He slid his tongue inside slowly gliding up and down, savoring the juices. “Gods, you taste so good,” he growled against her flesh.

She quivered. Well-practiced ministrations of his tongue sent her into oblivion and her fingers tightened in his soft brown locs, pulling, tugging for a sliver of self-control. As if she ever had any when it came to him. 

Sebastian moaned softly as she tugged at his hair. It spurred him to plunge his tongue deeper between her folds, adding a finger to slide over her nub in a thoughtful circular motion. His other hand fell to the front of his trousers, lazily undoing the laces. His aching erection finally sprang free. He palmed around his throbbing arousal while still keeping attention to the movements of his tongue. The growls against her skin created vibrations that deepened her moans and whimpers which in turn gave him valuable cues. With each flick of his tongue, he felt her tremble more. “Shh baby,” he ordered, “don’t come just yet.”

His thumb circled the tip of his cock, spreading the gathering precum around his length, but it somehow wasn’t enough. He moved his face away from her if only for a moment to glide his palm over her dripping pool, picking up as much lubrication as he could. He then coated himself with the juices of her arousal, gazing up at her with hooded, lust-filled eyes. That, right there , would make her come undone if she weren’t holding back, enjoying his little show. 

“Look at yourself,” she grinned through soft moans while lazily rubbing herself. The sight of him on his knees drove her mad. Her eyes fixed on his form as he stroked his cock in long, languid motions. 

Sebastian stood up, “I need to be inside you…will you let me?” he pleaded, voice dripping with desire. He wanted her permission.

“Yes,” she cooed, “ yes ,” she repeated and pressed herself back further into the door as he started to grind his hips against hers.

“Not here though…mmm, so many possibilities,” he breathed, his breath hot against her earlobe before he gently nipped it. “Perhaps I’ll have you on your hands and knees taking me like the insatiable little minx you are.” His fingers trailed teasingly down her spine making her shiver. “Or… I could lay you out on this desk and have my wicked way with you, watching your face contort in ecstasy,” he purred down her ear before his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “The only question is which position shall I ruin you in first?”

She melted in his hands, arching her neck, and exposing it to him. The anticipation of his bruising touch made her skin thrum. “...desk... the desk,” she choked out, lust overriding any sense of control. His own words echoed back to her: “Ruin me, Sebastian.” A whimper escaped her, a mix of shame and the desperate desire he’d coaxed forth.

Sebastian pulled her flush against him his length pressing insistently against her sensitive flesh. “Precisely, darling,” he purred, “I plan to fill every inch of you, over and over, until you can think of nothing but my cock buried deep inside you.” He relished in the sensation of how those words made her shiver like a twig in his arms. He ground his hips against hers with more fervor. “You’re going to be utterly ruined for anyone else…” 

“Like anyone else ever deserved me…” she added, her insistent nods urging him on. With a swift motion, he scooped her into his strong arms, carrying her to Kogawa's desk. Parchments and clutter flew aside with a careless sweep of his hand, and he laid her down on the smooth wood.

“Oh you know me well, sweetheart, now…” his hands ran smoothly down her thighs, “let’s not prolong this any further.” His fingers glided across her slickness eliciting soft moans from her. He wanted to make sure she was thoroughly coated before rubbing some of her essence on his himself as well. “I am in pain, remember?” He groaned as he pushed himself between her thighs, his tip pressing insistently between her folds, he was about to…

“Wait,” she gasped, her hand pressing urgently against his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he growled, the guttural vibration of his voice a mix of frustration and desire. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I want…” her eyes fluttered and she bit her lip. “...I want you to fuck me in your Quidditch jersey.”

Sebastian closed his eyes, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, do you now?” His voice was a low rumble. “Take off your shirt.” She obeyed him. In one fluid motion, he stripped off his jersey, his toned, muscular physique rippling in the dim light. Possessively, he draped the jersey over her, the scent of his sweat and masculinity enveloping her. “Now, let me show you just how well I can handle my broom…” he smirked. No matter how ridiculous he sounded, he was lost in the moment.

Satisfied with the view below he surged forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, finally repositioning himself at her entrance. His tip glided over her slick wet folds. He groaned “‘Sallow’ looks so fucking good on you,” he gripped the hem of the jersey and with one swift motion thrust inside her, hitting the deepest spot.

She gasped her eyes wide open in surprise as she took hi,. “I always…wanted…ahh…this.” her words were coming out in between his measured thrusts.

His eyes gleamed with unbridled desire as he gazed down at her, his hands grasping the hem of his shirt on her possessively. “You have no idea how hot you sound,” he groaned while leaning in claiming her lips, bruising them, almost. His hips surged forward. He wanted to bury himself deeper into her welcoming heat. “Fuck, you look so good in my colours…” he growled, breath hot against her skin, his thrusts began to quicken drawing a cacophony of moans out of her. 

“The idea of somebody catching us…ah, Sebastian,” she moaned, her hips bucking to meet each of his thrusts, his scent driving her crazy. Her nails dug deep into his freckled shoulders dragging down his arms. Each time he leaned in for a bruising kiss, her tongue glided masterfully over his, teasing, and driving him more mad.

His hips snapped forward with renewed urgency, his thick length plunging deeper into her core over and over. His fingers released the jersey and glided upwards to cup her breasts underneath, kneading them until he deftly moved his fingers over her nipples, instantly hardening her peaks.

He flicked one finger over her nipple while the other hand found its way back down to her plush clit. “That’s it darling, let me see you come undone around me,” he groaned and flicked his fingers with more intention while maintaining a thrusting rhythm and he could feel her walls tremble. 

Her first orgasm washed over her whole body, erupting from her core and sending tingles down to her toes. Her walls clenched around his cock hard, and he strained leaning forward to devour her moans of pleasure. He moaned in desperation, as he felt his own impending release, he bit down into his lip making it bleed, tasting iron. He wouldn’t let himself come yet. This was just too good to end it here.

She laughed breathlessly beneath him. “Don’t stop,” she urged even though the sensitivity of the afterglow made her squirm beneath his insistent thrusts.

“Mhm, that’s it darling, squeeze me just like that,” he growled while regaining momentum and rolling his hips in a sensual grind. “I am going to wring every last drop from you. You feel so bloody incredible, dripping and clenching around me,” he cried out.

She arched forward eagerly meeting his every hard pulse. Hoisting up the jersey she pulled his face down to her breasts urging him to suck at her aching buds. Sebastian relished in the taste of flesh, his tongue capturing hungrily one of her pert nipples between his teeth and sucking on it, rekindling her arousal. His hips continued relentless pace, driving himself deeper, hitting her sweet spots over and over. “You’re mine, do you hear me? He growled, his other free hand kneading her other breast roughly. “Every inch of you belongs to me now. Say it.”

“I am yours,” she cried out through strained moans, his deep thrusts and rough handling making her head spin. “I am Sallow’s girl,” she moaned. Suddenly, she wanted to give in deeply to his possessive desires. She wanted his rough treatment to be even more intense. “Slap me!” she demanded.

“What did you say?” her demand surprised him, making him slow down momentarily.

“Slap me, Sebastian” she insisted. “I am yours. Have your way with me.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with unbridled lust at her wanton plea. With a feral growl, he brought his palm down in a sharp, stinging slap against her cheek. “You’re damn right, you’re mine,” he snarled possessively, his hips pounding into her with renewed fervor. He leaned in, dragging his lips over her abused flesh.

She pulled his hair tugging him closer. He buried himself to the hilt into her slick warmth. “Take every inch of me,” he nuzzled into her neck. She panted heavily chasing another wave of pleasure under his relentless rhythm. Beads of his sweat dripped down from his chestnut hair strands onto her shoulder. She hooked one of her arms around his neck letting it slowly trail lower until reaching his groin, gently squeezing, drawing out guttural sounds.

“Fuck,” he strained “Keep doing that love and you’ll have me spilling inside you…” his voice dropped to a ragged growl as he gazed down at her with pure lust burning in his eyes. “I won’t be able to hold back much longer…”

Her fingers teased and brushed his sensitive sac, making his breath hitch, his hips bucked forward involuntarily. “Bloody hell, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled, his voice thick with raw need. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fill you.”

Her hand found its way back to her clit, rubbing it tentatively chasing her orgasm and matching his impending release. “I’ll be there with you,” she breathed.

“Yes, I need you to…” he groaned, coiled tension within him threatening to shatter. His form contorted over her, toes curling, feeling her tight walls squeeze around him once again. He gripped onto the fabric of his green jersey. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, filling her deeply with his, hot pulsing seed.

“I am right here with you,” he breathed heavily against her hair, still coming down from his intense release. She could feel him tremble above her.

“That was a lot,” she breathed, as he collapsed down. Her fingers threaded through his damp locs. Their lips met in a long, languid kiss, a sigh escaping her. His fingers traced the flush on her cheeks, then moved to roam her face, gently worshiping each feature.

He pulled out slowly, not breaking their connection entirely. He marveled at her sated form beneath him, the glow of her skin, the way she still trembled. A glistening trail ran down her thigh, and he traced it with a fingertip before sliding his hand gently upwards back into her well-used folds. “There, that’s better,” he murmured, his voice rough with tenderness. He scooped her into his arms, her warmth a delicious weight against him.

She chuckled against his chest. “What’s so funny?” He looked down at her, a gentle kiss landing on her hair.

“Imelda told me to bring your arse back to the pitch the second I found you,” she murmured, giggling.

“There were… more pressing matters to resolve first,” Sebastian smirked, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“I'll take care of Imelda,” she murmured, kissing him again, a shiver running through her. “But don’t think this is over.” With a final, lingering touch, she stepped away, leaving him wanting more.

[midnightsun-if]

OKAY NO I CANT TAKE THAT HURT. follow up (if you're up to! don't feel pressured to continue) if the mc survived the near death experience, waking up after a few days after this supposed.. uh.. war? Attack? how would the ros react? + how would the family react?

Follow up to this ask!

Everything comes back into focus abruptly, a sharp intake of breath, as if your lungs, that hadn’t truly needed oxygen for decades, were suddenly pressed to feel something natural. A reminder that you were alive, however arbitrary that word may mean when it involves your situation, and alerting the individual that had been slumped next to your bedside to the development.

A familiar gaze, filled with nothing short of relief, settles across your form like a warm embrace after spending so long in the dark, surrounded by nothing but an icy chilliness.

Koda: “You’re awake.” Large hands gently cradle your face, his soft expression speaking more than he could ever say. Shifting closer, Koda nuzzles his nose against yours, a sharp breath of relief leaving him at the feeling of your responding action, while a beaming grin stretched across his lips. “I knew you were going to be okay. I knew that everything would work out okay.” He gently trails his fingers down your cheek. “I’m not going to wait any longer to do what I’ve been wanting to do. W-Would you like to meet my family?” Whiskey brown eyes widen slightly, hope sparkling like gems within them. “I’ve wanted them to meet the man I’ve fallen in love with for a long time. I-I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Scarlett: She doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift a minuscule amount, reminiscent of a statue as emerald green eyes seemingly take you in. Soaking up everything that they could see. Within the next moment, as if she’s finally settled on something within her mind, she’s on the bed next to you, nestled into your side as she wraps her arms around you. Warm breath ghosts across your skin, Scarlett nuzzling against your neck, and a soft purr escapes, rumbling deep from her chest. Slender fingers, that had found their way underneath the thin hospital shirt, flex, as if she was truly checking you were there, and tug you closer. “You came back to me,” she whispers, placing an almost reverent kiss to the underside of your jaw. “You kept your promise.”

Cyrus/Cyra: Crimson eyes, that had clearly not seen a wink of sleep in a long time, are immediately flooded with gold, a sob erupting from their mouth as they instantly move to cradle your face. “You’re here,” they whisper, drawing as close as they’d possibly dare in your current position. Dipping their head to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, a relieved sigh being all they offered for the next moment. “Thank you. For being here, for loving me, for being everything I never knew that I needed.”

Quinn: Sapphire blue, that had darkened to such a stormy cobalt it was almost unrecognizable, shifts instantly the moment they notice you looking back, that they were given the opportunity to look into the eyes that they’ve fallen so in love with. Words fail them, they wouldn’t know how to properly explain the relief they suddenly feel, the way that their wolf was now howling in joy, and that they no longer felt the crushing weight bearing down onto their chest. “I missed you.” They finally settle on, taking your hand gently into their own. “Never do that again, okay?”

Caden: Seeing the shift in your aura, in the way that your soul no longer felt like it was crying out for a way to escape, allows their tears to fall down their face in jubilation— no longer wrought with the agony of knowing that they might lose you at any moment. In the face of your gaze, of the light that shone from your very being, they feel the hollow emptiness, the chilling grasp, abate from their heart, the dull atmosphere that the world had become suddenly awash with color. “You’re here,” they say, shifting closer to your bedside. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you again, okay? I’m going to protect you like you’ve always protected me. I promise.”

Sloane: A relieved sound escapes their mouth at the sight of you, somewhere between a strangled sob and a sharp gasp, before they get impossibly closer, pressing their forehead against your chest, relishing in the warmth that now slipped through. “You’re such an asshole,” they grunt, fingers digging into the blanket wrapped around you. “Never do that to me again.” Hazel eyes raise to meet your own, flashing gold in a clear warning. “You can’t ever do that me again. Understood? I don’t know if I’d be able to survive it a second time.”

Blake: “Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken,” they gently tease, caressing your cheek. Their attempt at levity, at the natural way they interacted with you, being completely dismantled by the shadows that hung underneath their eyes, at the red rimmed quality of shimmering violet, and the slightly pallid hue to normally tanned skin. Something they seem to take note of, and their false sense of nonchalance falls away, the weight of what had happened bearing down onto their shoulders. “We really need to work on safety precautions, angel.” They lean down and press a chaste kiss to your lips, humming at the familiar feel of you against them. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”

Reginald/Regina: “You’re okay.” Quickly standing, they immediately almost fall back onto their chair as their feet catch on something, but it’s not an event that stops their trek towards you. Instead, they happily settle on the edge of your bed, taking your hand into their own. “I knew that you would be. It wouldn’t have made any sense for me to outlive you after all.” A gentle smile quirks their lips, but it soon falls away, their grip tightening around yours. “I’m so glad won’t be the case. I’m so glad that I still have you. There’s still so much I want to do and see, and I don’t want to do any of that without you.”

Helena: Your mother is by your side in an instant, her face uncharacteristically gentle as she cradles your face in her hands. “My little one,” she murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your brow. “I’m so glad to see your eyes again. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.” Helena pauses, her expression darkening. “Well, I do, but I’d rather not cause a war if I don’t need to.”

Saraya: “Little light.” The gentle exclamation of the your childhood nickname is followed by a warm presence settling next to you. Your mama’s gentle expression filled with nothing but her love for you, warm hands running through the strands of your hair with all the care in the world. “You gave us all quite the scare—” Her smile falters at the reminder of what had happened, but her touch never falls away. “I love you, my little light, please never forget that.”

Cienna: Your eldest sister raises elegantly from the undoubtedly uncomfortable hospital chair, a picture perfect definition of grace, but the way electric blue eyes seem to sparkle with renewed life tells you the struggle that she had been subjected to in recent days. “I forgot how dramatic you can be, Beastie,” she teases, settling on the edge of your bed, taking your hand in a light grasp. “Almost dying will definitely take the cake for years to come.” Her hold tightens ever-so-slightly, obsidian black flashing within her gaze. “We’ll find out who did this, and I’ll personally ensure that they die screaming. I promise you, Beastie.”

Persephone: A relieved cry erupts from her lips at the sight of you, various kisses being placed across your face in her happiness. You vaguely note that the usual hospital blanket had been replaced by a quilt that Persephone had no doubt made just for you, its warmth, as well as the softness of it, a soothing balm against your aching body. “I was so worried, little one.” Persephone wrings her hands together, amber eyes filled with worry, before she begins to fuss over your blanket and pillows; wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as possible. “I’m so glad you’re okay. None of us would be the same without you.”

Christian: Auburn hair falls across his forehead, the normally boyish curls completely haphazard in their tousled state; his usually well put together appearance being cast to the wayside. “You’re awake,” Christian murmurs, gently taking your hands into his own shaking grip. Forest green, that’s slowly being eclipsed by obsidian, filled with nothing but adoration as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, as if he didn’t know what he could possibly say, but he eventually repeats the only thing that seemed important to him. “You’re awake.”

[allisonbaelfire]

Amethyst. - PART 4

Over the last few days, I got to know the students of Class 1-A better. They all introduced themselves, and it was a lot to take in, given my lack of experience with people my age. Despite that, they seemed kind and genuinely caring towards each other—everyone except Shoto.

And that’s exactly why I was considering throwing the UA Sports Festival. After my first day, Endeavor had made it clear that he expected either Shoto or me to come out on top. The look of disgust on Shoto’s face when Dad said that was hard to bear. Maybe if I let myself lose, Shoto would finally stop seeing me as just another extension of our father’s will.

The festival was only two weeks away, and I couldn’t decide if I should give it my all or lose intentionally. Either way, training had already started.

“Y/N, watch out!” Mina’s voice rang out, cutting through my thoughts.

“Huh?” I barely had time to register her warning before the speeding debris, kicked up from Katsuki’s explosion, came hurtling toward me. I was so lost in my own head that I hadn’t even noticed his attack.

Before I could react, Eijiro rushed in, his hardened body blocking the debris and keeping me safe.

“Thanks, Eijiro,” I muttered, my tone calm, though embarrassment flickered in my eyes.

As I glanced at the wreckage and then at Katsuki, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. How could I be so distracted? This wasn’t like me.

Shoto walked past me with his usual cold detachment. “Pro-hero,” he said under his breath, his tone mocking.

Normally, I wouldn’t have let it get to me, but something about today made his comment sting. I called on my Ice Flames, letting them spill across the training ground, coating it in frost. Shoto slipped, caught off guard, and I quickly froze his leg in place.

“Yeah, pro-hero,” I said as I walked past him, releasing him from my ice without looking back.

_________

I strode back to the locker rooms, adrenaline still coursing through me. The sounds of training faded, leaving only the echo of my footsteps. I could feel the weight of my classmates’ eyes on me—some curious, others admiring. It didn’t matter.

Inside the locker room, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Shoto had a way of getting under my skin.

Just as I finished changing, the door creaked open, and Mina burst in, her bright energy filling the room.

“Y/N! That was amazing! I didn’t know you could do that with your Quirk!” she said, her wide grin never faltering.

“Thanks, Mina,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. “Just had to remind Shoto who he’s dealing with.”

Mina giggled, leaning against the locker next to mine. “Well, you definitely did! But hey, are you okay? Shoto can be… a bit much.”

I shrugged. “He knows how to push my buttons. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She gave me a long look, her expression softening. “You know, you don’t have to handle everything by yourself. We might not know each other well yet, but we’re a team. If you ever need to talk, or just let off some steam, I’m here.”

I was a little taken aback by her sincerity. Mina was always so bubbly and carefree, but her words carried weight.

“Thanks, Mina. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her face lit up again. “Great! You should hang out with us more! We’re all going to the arcade later—Denki’s idea. It’ll be fun!”

I hesitated. “I’d love to, but I have to train for the Festival. Shoto and I can’t train at home when the other is around, so I have to find time here after school.”

Her face fell just a little, but she nodded. “I get it. The Festival is a big deal. Just don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Thanks for understanding.”

_________

Training alone in the school’s grounds had become my routine. Director Nezu had given me permission to use the area after hours, and each evening, I pushed myself to refine my Quirk. But no matter how hard I tried, something wasn’t right. My concentration was slipping. Every movement felt just a little off, like there was a haze over my mind.

I wondered if it was because I wasn’t the same anymore—just a normal student, not a pro-hero. Or maybe something else was distracting me.

Katsuki had noticed. He always paid attention to the small things, even when he pretended not to. After a few days of declining Mina’s and the others’ invitations, he had finally had enough.

“Oi, Frostburn!” he barked, cornering me after school one day. “You think dodging all your friends is gonna make you better? Your concentration is trash, and your technique is even worse.”

I narrowed my eyes, not in the mood for his bluntness. “I don’t need your advice, Bakugo.”

“Tch.” He crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing. “Yeah, you do. You keep training like this, and you’ll be lucky to make it past the first round. If you want to get better, train with someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.”

I blinked, surprised. Was he offering to help?

“I don’t need your help,” I started, but Katsuki interrupted.

“You’re wasting your time. Either get serious or lose on purpose. Doesn’t matter to me.” He turned to walk away.

I thought about it for a second, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll train with you. But don’t expect me to go easy.”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Our training started the next day. Katsuki didn’t hold back, and I didn’t expect him to. His attacks came fast and relentless, forcing me to react on instinct. My Ice Flames clashed with his explosions, sending shockwaves across the training ground.

“Focus!” Katsuki barked as I narrowly dodged another blast. “Your reaction time is shit. You’ll get destroyed if you keep that up.”

I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, summoning ice shields to block his attacks while searching for an opening. Despite his aggressive style, Katsuki was right. I was improving.

The sessions were brutal, but they forced me to reach deeper, to control my Quirk more efficiently. And despite his rough exterior, Katsuki had a sharp eye for details. He noticed every flaw, every hesitation, and called them out without mercy.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the night began to settle in, Katsuki and I were wrapping up another exhausting training session. The training grounds were nearly empty, save for a few dim lights casting long shadows across the field.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, my muscles aching from the intensity of our sparring. Katsuki, as usual, seemed unfazed, though I could tell from the slight rise and fall of his shoulders that even he was feeling the effects of the long day.

We gathered our things in silence, and as we headed toward the exit, Katsuki spoke up, his voice gruff as ever.

“I’ll walk you home.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden offer. “You know I’m a former pro-hero, right?” My voice held a touch of sarcasm, though I wasn’t really mad. It was just… unexpected.

Katsuki scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Right. Former pro-hero. And when shitty purple hair figured out your identity that fast, it’s just a matter of time before the villains do.”

I opened my mouth to protest but stopped. He wasn’t wrong. Hitoshi Shinso had pieced together my past as Amethyst within seconds of meeting me. And if someone like him could do it, it wouldn’t take long for villains to catch on.

Still, I couldn’t resist pushing back. “I can handle myself, Bakugo. I’m not some helpless civilian.”

Katsuki shot me a look, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Tch. Don’t get all high and mighty just ’cause you used to be a hero. It’s dark, and you don’t live far from me, so stop being a pain and let’s go.”

I was taken aback for a moment, not by the words themselves—because this was typical Katsuki—but by the fact that he cared enough to make sure I got home safe. He’d never admit it, but under all that bluster, there was something almost… protective about him.

“Fine,” I muttered, pretending to be annoyed as I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Katsuki grunted in approval, and we started walking, the sound of our footsteps filling the quiet night air. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was thick with unspoken words.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of my eye. His expression was as stern as ever, but there was something softer beneath the surface, something I was only starting to notice.

“Bakugo,” I said after a few moments, breaking the silence, “thanks… for offering to walk me home. I mean, I don’t need it, but… thanks.”

He glanced at me, his scowl deepening slightly. “Tch, don’t make it weird. I’m not doing this ’cause I want to. It’s just smart. The last thing I need is some villain ambushing you and dragging me into their mess.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. “Sure, Bakugo. Whatever you say.”

As we reached my street, the soft glow of streetlights illuminated the path ahead. Katsuki didn’t say much, and neither did I. But something had shifted in the way we walked side by side, like we’d reached an unspoken understanding.

When we arrived at my house, Katsuki paused, his eyes flicking toward the lit windows before turning back to me. He noticed how I looked at the House.

“What’s the deal with Icy-Hot and you?”

I hesitated, not expecting the question. “It’s… complicated. We used to be close, but things changed after our older brother, Toya, died. Shoto thinks I’m just following our father’s orders, but it’s not like that.” I paused for a moment and looked around.

Every evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, a sensation that prickled at my senses from every direction. It felt like eyes were constantly on us, lurking in the shadows, but I dismissed it as a remnant of my time spent on night patrols. The heightened awareness from those days made me hyper-vigilant, and I chalked it up to old habits dying hard. Despite this, having Katsuki’s fiery presence beside me was oddly reassuring

“Tomorrow, same time,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nodded. “Got it.”

Katsuki noticed how uneasy I was and didn’t press further. Why would he even care? Katsuki thought to himself. He was only training with me to improve his skills, not to get to know me or be friends.

He grunted in response and turned to leave, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked down the quiet street.

__________

The next day, our training was just as intense, if not more. Katsuki had set up an obstacle course, designed to push my limits. I had to move faster, react quicker, and use my Ice Flames in more creative ways than I ever had before.

“Move it, Frostburn! You’re too slow!” Katsuki shouted as I weaved through the obstacles. He threw a series of small explosions my way, just enough to keep me on my toes.

I gritted my teeth and focused, summoning my Ice Flames to form sharp barriers to block his attacks. At the same time, I started shaping the ice into weapons—spears and daggers, which I launched at him from a distance.

Katsuki dodged them easily, a smirk on his face. “Nice try, but you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He wasn’t wrong. Katsuki’s relentless approach was both exhausting and exhilarating. The more I trained with him, the more I realized how much potential I had been holding back. But something still nagged at the back of my mind—something that kept me from truly unlocking the full extent of my Quirk.

After another grueling session, we sat on the edge of the training grounds, both of us catching our breath. The sun had set long ago, and the field was illuminated only by the dim lights scattered around the area.

Katsuki glanced over at me, his usual scowl softened by the exhaustion. “You’re getting better,” he admitted, though his tone was still gruff. “But you’re still distracted.”

I sighed, leaning back on my hands. “Yeah. I know.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you? Or are you just gonna keep running from it?”

I hesitated. Katsuki wasn’t the type to ask personal questions, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made me consider opening up.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I said finally, my voice low. “With Shoto, with the Festival… I just don’t know. I don’t want to be a pawn in my father’s game, but I don’t want to keep running from it either.”

Katsuki was silent for a moment, then he snorted. “Tch. You’re thinking too much. You want to win the Festival? Then win. Screw what your old man thinks. You’re not doing this for him. You’re doing this for you.”

I looked over at him, surprised by his words.

“You’re not a pro-hero anymore,” he continued, his gaze intense. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t still fight like one. Show everyone what you’ve got. Stop worrying about what they think.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. Katsuki had a way of simplifying things, but that was exactly what I needed.

“You’re right,” I said, more to myself than to him. “I’ve been letting everyone else’s expectations control me.”

Katsuki grunted. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to me giving pep talks. It’s annoying.”

I smirked, standing up and stretching my sore muscles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We gathered our things and started the walk home, the quiet of the night settling in around us. Katsuki���s presence had become oddly comforting, even if we didn’t talk much. It was like he understood, in his own way.

When we reached my house, he paused, glancing at the windows like he had the night before. “You still training tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I replied, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Same time?”

He nodded. “Don’t be late.”

__________

The next day at school, things felt different. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the talk I had with Katsuki, or if something in me had shifted. Either way, I felt more focused, more determined. I wasn’t going to let my father, or Shoto, or anyone else dictate how I would approach the Sports Festival. This was about me now.

As I walked into class, I noticed Shoto sitting near the window, his gaze distant as usual. There was tension between us, and I knew it would only get worse as the Festival approached. But something Katsuki had said stuck with me—this wasn’t about them. It was about me.

“Y/N!” Mina called out from across the room, waving me over. “We’re going to the arcade after school today. You in?”

I hesitated for a moment, then remembered what I had promised myself. I couldn’t keep isolating myself. Mina and the others had been trying to include me for days, and it was about time I stopped pushing them away.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” I said, giving her a small smile.

Mina’s face lit up. “Awesome! You’ll have so much fun, I promise!”

Eijiro, Denki, and Sero joined in the conversation, talking excitedly about the games they were going to play. For the first time in a while, I felt like I could breathe a little easier.

_________

After school, we all headed to the arcade together. The atmosphere was light, and Mina’s infectious energy kept everyone laughing. Denki was terrible at almost every game, but he didn’t seem to care. Eijiro and Sero were competitive, but in a way that made everyone enjoy the rivalry rather than stress over it.

I found myself relaxing in their company. It was strange, after so long being alone, to be surrounded by people who genuinely wanted me to be part of their group. Mina’s constant encouragement and Eijiro’s genuine kindness made me realize what I had been missing.

At one point, Katsuki showed up, hands stuffed in his pockets, his usual scowl firmly in place. He didn’t play any of the games, but he hovered near our group, keeping a watchful eye on everything. I caught his gaze a few times, and he’d give me a short nod, as if to say, “You’re doing good.”

It wasn’t much, but it meant something.

By the end of the night, we were all exhausted but happy. As we left the arcade, I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe I had been wrong about keeping my distance. Maybe, just maybe, this was what I needed all along—to stop trying to do everything on my own.

Mina threw an arm around my shoulder as we walked out. “See? I told you it’d be fun!”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, you were right.”

We parted ways after that, everyone heading home in different directions. Katsuki, as usual, walked with me, though he didn’t say much. The quiet between us was comfortable by now.

When we reached my house, I paused at the door, looking at him. “Thanks for today,” I said, my voice quieter than usual.

He shrugged, his gaze shifting away. “Whatever. Just don’t slack off tomorrow.”

I smiled, knowing that this was his way of saying he cared. “Goodnight, Bakugo.”

He gave a small grunt and walked off into the night, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

_________________

Amethyst. Masterlist: Klick Here!

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion If Your God Promises You An Easy Life, It Isn't The Bible's God

#DailyDevotion If Your God Promises You An Easy Life, It Isn't The Bible's God Psalm 66 10But, O God, You have tested us; You have purified us like silver. 11You caught us in a net, and put misery on our bodies. 12You let men drive over our heads; we went through fire and water; but then You brought us out to have plenty. I think we are spoiled. There are a lot of Christians out there who think God's love means they should not undergo any hardship, any loss or any tribulation. Those that think this way, when God brings these things down upon them end up leaving God and becoming atheist. They didn't get what they wanted, when they wanted it, in the manner they wanted it. They were disappointed by a God that only exists in their imaginations. It isn't the biblical God. Here we God as He is and as He presents Himself. This is a God who tests us. Who sends us through the fires to purify us. He allows misery to come into our bodies. He allows us to be ruled by wicked and evil men. Did not Jesus promise us such things? Did He not teach us the Beatitudes where we are blessed with suffering, particularly with persecution for His name's sake. He promised us if we lose our life for His sake we will gain it. He promised to bring a sword and not peace into our lives if we became His disciples. Peter in his epistles reminds us the sufferings we undergo are purifying our faith. Paul reminds us the misery and suffering God brings into our life are to develop in us perseverance, character and hope. It is preparing us to bear the weight of eternal glory. Hebrews reminds us that God disciplines us like sons so we may bear the fruit of eternal righteousness. So no, don't expect an easy life if Christ Jesus is your God. On the other hand, the LORD did bring them into a land flowing with milk and honey. Through David, He brought peace and safety to the Israelites. In similar fashion, we Christians who remain faithful will inherit the earth, a new creation in which the effects of sin are no longer felt. We will see and dwell with God the Father and Christ Jesus. 13I will enter Your temple with burnt offerings and do for You what I vowed, 14what my lips said and my mouth promised when I was in trouble. 15I will sacrifice to You fattened livestock as burnt offerings, with the fragrant smoke of sacrificed rams. I will offer cattle and goats. What is our response to the great things God has done for us in Christ Jesus? Is it not offering Him up songs and prayers of thanksgiving and praise. We don't do animal sacrifice anymore. We do open up our wallets and check-books and make sacrifices. It's not that God needs it. If He needed our wealth, He would just take it. It is for our spiritual good that we sacrifice our wealth. It is a spiritual necessity to demonstrate our faith in God and His continued providence. Sure, the Church uses it to build and maintain places where we can hear God's word, be taught God's word and receive His gifts to us in the sacraments. It provides a living to the one God has called to deliver these spiritual blessings to us. But it is for our good, for our spiritual growth to make such sacrifices. If we did not, we would be teaching our sinful flesh that wealth is more important than God. It is more trustworthy than God. It would be teaching us that wealth brings and gives us all good things. We end up making wealth our God in place of God. This is why it is a good thing to sacrifice it, offering it up to God through the Church and those we meet along the way in need of material goods. Heavenly Father, we thank You for the great salvation You have given us. Give us Your Holy Spirit that we may recognize the trying things in life as coming from Your loving hand to purify our faith, to discipline us and to prepare us for the world to come. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

[cupidzgf]

Hi! I suck at requests and I don’t know if you take them. But if you do, can you write more hange x reader? It’s just so hard to find fics like that and your writing it’s SOOOOO AMAZING.

If not, just ignore it. Lots of love ❤️

𝖠 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌

aww thank you, that means a lot to me. i hope this one was just as good as the last!

a quiet, as serene as an ocean wave enveloping the shore, fills the room, charging it with energy. it's nice, you think. you could almost get used to the silence- the serenity of it all. 

there's a knock at the door, a voice, and the retreating steps of a soldier that are the painful reminder the stability you cling to is on borrowed time, a stolen moment out of hundreds. 

then you're back to work, out of the warm embrace of your lover, shrugging on your uniform, letting your fingers work the straps like they've had hundreds of times. each one pilling on top like a weighted blanket, a comfort in the uncertainty surrounding the new…well, everything. your little world was changing faster than you could wrap your mind around, faster than you could catch up to. 

marley is outside that door, waiting with bated breath for the destruction and death you're going to bring if you follow eren's plan. you've dammed your soul the moment you took the life of another in vain, but when will it stop? when can you fall down the path of redemption if you can't forsake tarnishing the lives of others? 

a body, sheathed in blankets, tentatively brushes your hunched figure on the cot you share. hands roam over the clothed plains of your back, making a point to trace the knobs of your spine, fascinated- almost curious. the word explained hange better than any other. 

"we have to go." you hate the way they taste on your tongue, they're vile words, and you're repulsed by how they slip so easily past you. its an excuse to leave and return the world that demands your abilities while you still have the will to do so. 

"i know."

it's a truth you can barely swallow with a shudder down. the world, even fate itself, awaits outside your door, one that will spare no mercy and claw its way to your throats until you suffocate under the pile of bodies you've created. you crave a moment longer with her more than anyone could know, desperately reaching for the clock to turn it back and grant yourself more of the affection hange graciously affords you. however, you, of all people, should know time is a luxury you cannot afford. 

hange's body presses behind you in such a way you can feel the curve of her breasts, the weight of her touch settling heavily over your weary limbs. 

"one more moment." it's a plea, out in the open with desire laid bare, whispered from lips that press a kiss to the junction of your neck. if only it were so easy to ignore the fighting outside this room, then maybe you could cling to your last shreds of humanity with the person fighting the same sins as you. 

"we can't." 

you two were a secret in the shadows, lust hidden behind comradery. yet it didn't stop these instances you stole from losing any value, and if you could, you would never leave. if it was that simple, you would have abandoned this regiment long ago. 

it's a cold reality you had pledged yourself to, tugging you away farther and farther from a distant future you two could have. doomed to the very thing you swore to give your life to. 

"the mission."

it's all the reminder she needs to know where your thoughts are leading to, and like the good soldier she is, hange lets you go, heading for their own uniform in the mess it was taken off in. 

you want nothing more than to erase the trace of sadness from her face, wipe her clean of any hurt, and beg for forgiveness no matter what it costs, no matter the cause. 

only, the cause is your life, a dream you promised each other to put before the other. it's how it had to be. soldiers couldn't afford to lose themselves in emotions. not even the ones who deserved that freedom the most. 

you let the door close behind you in an effort to forget the pain you've caused by fulfilling your duties. it doesn't work.

[blu-joons]

When You Tell Him That You Need A Hug ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

The sound of the door unlocking brought you up from the sofa straight away, watching as Jin walked through the front door. “I need a hug,” you warned him straight away, letting him know what mood you were in.

Jin only had time to close the front door before he felt your frame resting in against his. “I thought you were coming over to hug me because you’re happy to see me.”

You hummed in agreement as you made yourself comfortable, “I’m happy to see you too, but I’ve just been thinking about your hugs especially a lot today.”

“Are they that good?” Jin proudly asked as he placed his hands against your lower back, knowing that that was the spot you liked for him to hold the most whenever he hugged you.

“They’re alright,” you couldn’t help but joke with him, despite the frown that was on your face, and the tired look in your eyes.

“I could get used to coming home to this,” Jin laughed in an attempt to brighten up your mood, “can you be here everyday?”

“If I could, I’d love to be here with you.”

Yoongi:

The smile on your face was the widest it had been all day as you walked into the studio and saw Yoongi waiting for you. “I need a hug from you,” you laughed, outstretching your arms for Yoongi to walk into.

His smile was just as wide as your own as he happily walked across and into your arms. “Please don’t tell me you’ve had as busy a day as I’ve had, otherwise we’re in trouble.”

Your head nodded as arms wrapped around you, head resting against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Maybe we should compete and see who has  had the worst day between us.”

“We could be here all night,” Yoongi sniggered as he propped his head up against the top of yours. “But just so you know, it’s an argument that I would definitely win after today.”

“You’re not challenging me, are you?” You teased, tilting your head back so that you were able to look up and see Yoongi properly.

“I don’t really fancy being in this studio all night,” Yoongi shrugged, “I’d much prefer to be hugging you in the comfort of home.”

“I definitely can’t argue with that one.”

Hoseok:

Your bottom lip was already quivering, but as Hobi asked you what was wrong you finally found yourself crumbling. “I just need a hug,” you whimpered, trying your best to hold back the tears that threatened.

Hobi moved across to you straight away, worried that he was the one that had set you off. “It’s alright,” he whispered, opting not to push and find out what was wrong.

Your head nodded as your grip around the material of his shirt nearly tore it from his body. “Sorry,” you whispered, knowing your tears were dampening his shirt too.”

“Don’t apologise,” Hobi quickly reassured you, placing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Sometimes we all need a few moments and a good cry on someone’s shoulder too.”

“It’s just been a lot,” you explained, unable to say anymore as you felt your breath hitch and your body beginning to lose strength.

“I’ve got you,” Hobi told you, scooping you up as soon as he felt your knees buckling and your weight drooping in his hold.

“Thank you for always holding me up.”

Namjoon:

A hand on your shoulder brought a faint smile to your face, glancing up at Namjoon’s inquisitive expression. “Do you think you could give me a hug? I feel like I need one right now?” You politely asked Namjoon.

Without saying a word he sat down, snaking his arms tightly around your waist. “What’s been going on with you lately? You’ve not been yourself for a while.”

Your shoulders shrugged as your head rested against Namjoon’s chest. “I guess I’ve just been feeling a little lonely, everyone seems to have plans, except for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered, berating himself as he did so for not realising what had brought on the change in your mood that he had noticed. “I’m probably one of those people, aren’t I?”

“You're busy with the boys,” you reminded him, “I can’t expect you to constantly organise your time with them to work around me too.”

“I promise that we can do more together,” Namjoon confidently insisted, “no matter what it takes, I’ll make more time for us.”

“It’s not just you, but thank you Namjoon.”

Jimin:

Narrowed eyes looked across at you as you told Jimin that there was one final thing that you wanted from him for your birthday. “I need a hug, and then I know for sure that my birthday will definitely be complete.”

His head shook as he feared the worst, not expecting something so simple from you. “You scared me then, I thought I’d forgotten something major to get you.”

Your head shook with Jimin’s as he took a step closer towards you, “I just want a hug from you so I can say thank you for organising such a great birthday for me.”

“Come here,” he smirked, placing his hand against the small of your back and bringing you in towards him. “This hug might be the easiest present I’ve had to find you for your birthday this year.”

“You asked for a list of things I wanted,” you reminded him, “you can’t be mad at me for giving you the answers to the questions you had.”

“Never have I met someone so particular for their birthday,” Jimin smirked at you, “next year you can just get more of these.”

“Hey, I’m not one to turn down any free hugs.”

Taehyung:

A smirk shone on Taehyung’s face as he watched you edging closer and closer towards him along the sofa. “I need a hug,” you whispered as you met his sceptical eyes, “you have no idea how cold I am right now.”

After waiting a few moments to tease you, Taehyung leant across and pulled you down against his chest. “How are you cold? We’re nearing the spring now.”

Your shoulders shrugged as Taehyung’s limbs wrapped around you tightly to try and warm you up. “I hate the fact that I feel the cold so much, it’s so unfair on me.”

“There is one plus side to it though you know,” Taehyung tried to reason, “because you get cold so often it gives you more of an excuse to lay here with me and get some hugs from me.”

“That’s very true,” you giggled, unable to hold back your laughter, “although I think that you would hug me anyway, you adore me too much.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung teased once again, loosening his grip around you, “I can let go and leave you to freeze if you want.”

“No, you have to stay here and hug me now.”

Jungkook:

A soft smile appeared on Jungkook’s face as he watched you stand up from your desk, turning around to look at him. “Can I have a hug?” You immediately asked him, feeling yourself beginning to get overwhelmed.

His head nodded straight away as Jungkook made his way across to you, “I hope you’re not working yourself too hard, I told you earlier to be careful Y/N.”

Your arms wrapped around his frame as soon as Jungkook was close enough to you. “I’m trying my best but there’s so many things to be done, and so little time.”

“It’s alright,” he assured you as you began to hurry your speech along, resting his hands against your back. “Just take a few deep breaths whilst you’re here with me and I promise you’ll be alright.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the material of Jungkook’s shirt, “being here is exactly what I need after doing all of that work for my boss.”

“We can stay here for as long as you need,” Jungkook smiled down at you, “you know that I’ll never turn down a hug too.”

“You’re even more of a hugger than me.”

---

Masterlist

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere �� “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

[bokutoslittlebird]

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.