#love that for them <3 sorry for the heartbreak though over the thought of silver probably being dead

[cockworkangels]

love the show of solidarity of waiting for your lost love to come back together

[steelycunt]

took ten minutes creating a pros and cons list for each of the prompts they are. insane. settled on 18 though!!! gimme NOW!! am prepared for heartbreak or whatever else you decide!!!!!

HI my darling my light my love! you spent ten minutes creating a list im so sorry i spent ten years creating this drabble </3 it IS extra long just for you though (im not built for drabbles xx). post-poa r/s...on my blog...its more likely than you think xx

He’s fifteen, and he’s quite sure that even if he knew what to do with his hands, they wouldn’t listen to him: they’re busy twisting themselves into a shy, twitchy knot in his lap. Slick-palmed, pinprick of blood on his left thumb where he nicked himself trying to fasten his new PREFECT badge to his school jumper.

All I want, he tells him (eyes steadily downcast, because he came back this year with a small silver hoop bitten through his earlobe and looking at it makes him fucking useless), is for you to do your top button up and pretend—just for my first day—that I am capable of exercising even the slightest bit of authority over you.

Ah, come on, Prefect Lupin. Sirius grips his hand and brings it to his mouth, flicking his tongue out over the bead of blood. Grin like the curve of a trigger. Surely, that’s not all you want.

He’s thirty-five, and his hands are in his dressing-gown pockets this time, and on nights like this he can tilt his head and close one eye and nothing’s really changed.

“You aren’t supposed to be out here like this,” he calls. He feels shy again. He feels twitchy. “You know that.”

Sirius turns. Today: him, sitting in the bathroom with a tea-towel round his shoulders, letting Remus cut his hair for him. Remus only spoke to say, do you want it the length you used to have it? And Sirius only spoke to shoot back, do you honestly think I remember that?

The trouble is that Remus does remember, and now the man sitting on his backdoor step looks horribly like someone he long thought dead. In a way, it was easier to see him unravelled, chewed up and spat out and still bearing the teeth marks. He looks too much like the boy he was, now—the boy who called him Moony, and held his fingers against his lips.

It makes him want to tear Sirius’ face off, confiscate it. Hide it in a shoebox underneath his bed, with all the other bits of that boy that he scrounged up and refused to let go.

“Out here. Good grief. Listen to yourself, Remus,” Sirius snorts. He tips back and splays one hand out over the doormat. His dry, split knuckles. “Look, half of me’s still practically in the kitchen, see? All I did was open the door.”

“Yes, but the orders were—”

“Oh, believe me, I know what they were. I’m laying low. I’m not to be seen, and under no circumstances am I to leave. Got it. Lucky for me, however, I know the bloke they left in charge of me—” he twists his mouth up, Remus might possibly retch, “and I happen to know he’s a rather soft touch.”

And Remus thinks, angrily: only for you. You made me like that. He just can’t stand himself—he’s thirty-five and they’re still doing this, this give-and-take, this inane wager. I see your broken ribs, and I raise you my severed arm. He’s thirty-five, and he’s still letting a pretty boy push him over in the playground.

He sits down next to Sirius. Elbow to elbow, knee to knee. His back garden, a miserable tangle of weeds like hair in a shower drain. It’s never bothered him until this very moment. He wets his lips.

“For a moment, when I saw the door open, I thought—I almost thought you’d made a break for it.”

“I don’t blame you. I’ve developed a bit of a knack for those.” Sirius scratches his jaw; neither of them have shaved for a few days. In the end, they’re a pair of old strays, sniffing around a scrap heap. “No, I woke up. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Needed some air.”

“Nightmare?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t dream much these days, thank god. I reckon that’d finish me. It’s just the waking up—I’m not often able to sleep through the night—and there’s these first few seconds where I forget where I am, I think I’m back there. There’s nothing there to ground me. It’s quite frightening, really.”

“I know what you mean. Or…I suppose I was the other way around,” Remus says, catching himself on the threadbare heel of one of the socks he gave Sirius to wear. It’s a cramped, cold house, and there’s this want that he’s got, in the pit of his stomach—a want to see Sirius sweat again.

“For the first year or so, after—after James and Lily, I used to wake up and for a moment I’d just…forget that they were dead. Forget you were—gone. And then it would hit me all over again. Every morning, I’d lose you all over again. Like fucking—Groundhog Day.”

Sirius frowns; more lines on his face than before. Remus would like to touch them. He’s pathetic. “What’s that?”

“Oh. Never mind. Anyway,” Remus changes the subject, “there are things you can take, to help you sleep. I’ll try and get you something. And—some cigarettes, too. And anything else you want.”

It does something filthy, something downright devastating to him, to watch Sirius brighten at that. Like opening a window; like the fresh pink skin beneath a scab. He did that. He can still do that.

“God, yes, please—that would be grand. Fuck.” Sirius laughs, his breath rattles. “You’ve got no idea. The only two things I wanted to do more than have a smoke when I got out, were kill Peter and see you.”

“Well, I’ll go shopping tomorrow. And you’ll be two for three. Right.” Remus’ words slump out into the night, which makes them easier to say. He is thirty-five. There are things his hands want to do again.

“Shall we go to back to bed? You, er…” he squints, and swallows. “I was thinking—if you wanted to, you could…sleep in my room, tonight, with me? Only, I thought it might help…if you wake up, and there’s someone there, it might not…be as frightening. If you want. Only a suggestion, of course,” he adds.

Sirius looks at him. This is a song they used to know. “I think—we could try that, for the night,” he replies. “Yeah. Like being twelve again.”

[muffindaddystyles]

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

..

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

.

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.  It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen.  The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle.  “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over.  “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible.  I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene.  He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts.  Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly.  “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud.  “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.  “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question.  “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question.  “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for.  Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart.  “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with.  Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously.  “I guess that rules me out.”

“What?  You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down.  He felt very exposed under your gaze.  “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it.  All this time and we’re finally talking about it.  What the fuck do I say?  “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment.  Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation.  You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now.  Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance.  If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned.  “I do that a lot, actually.  I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest.  With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t.  It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him.  He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper.  “Can I touch you?" 

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly.  He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth.  Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh.  His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked.  "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out.  Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand.  You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care.  After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you.  He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long.  Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it.  His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm.  Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips.  It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him.  He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly.  You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath.  You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach.  A movie could never do a body like this justice.  It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily.  He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath.  “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain.  “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets.  He wanted to give you everything.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button. 

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm.  He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through.  You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his.  “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder.  “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands.  “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”  

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his.  The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment.  If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little.  “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp.  "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk.  “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips.  You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue.  He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory.  You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition.  They're nothing.  It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips.  He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you.  He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it.  He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation.  Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine.  “Bucky, please,” you whimpered. 

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you.  “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway.  “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at.  “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’?  All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him.  “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously.  That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face.  That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away.  That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder.  He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that?  Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered.  He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer.  He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head.  You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question.  Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one.  He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.  

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did.   "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately.  "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth.  "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed.  "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him.  "Fuck," you shuddered.  “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in.  His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation.  But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you.  You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.  

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans.  He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard.  “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you.  Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock.  He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat.  Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment.  Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more.  But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie.  He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison.  But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie.  He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half.  You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now.  It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment.  He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist.  Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged.  Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.  

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night?  How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you.  He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure.  It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect.  It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore.  Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.  

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you.  "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear.  "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs.  It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic.  The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now.  He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained.  That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm.  You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now.  Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed.  “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.  

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears.  He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry.  Of course, only because he was making you cry from this.  If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it.  You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears.  “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock.  You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper.  "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that?  With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly?  A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt.  You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight.  Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.  

"Mine, huh?” he remembered.  “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly.  "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him.  "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses.  "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.  You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited.  "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted.  "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again.  You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close.  I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already.  Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too.  That was answer enough for him.  “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

[hopeamarsu]

Hello m'lady! I'm so excited to see you're accepting prompts! If this strikes your fancy, may I request : “What happened to us?” and “I can be your reason why.” for our Frankie??? ANGST HOTEL HERE WE COME...MAYBE?!? Thank you for your time 💚🌿💚

My darling lady, I'm so happy to get your request! 💚

One huge dose of angsty Frankie coming right up. Oh, this one has a happy ending too. I hope you enjoy this, I'm sending a lot of hugs your way.

I can be your reason why

Frankie Morales x gn!reader

Word count 1,4k

Warnings: Hospitals, accident, mention of drunk driver, mention of death (Frankie was in the army), angst, sad sad sad, pining, hopeful ending

The room is so white, right down to the bedsheet that covers your lower half.

The white machines hooked on your body, keeping a check on vitals and making sure you are fine, look like something out of a sci-fi film for Frankie. He hates that he has to see them in multitudes as well as the monitors above your bed drawing lines as you breathe and your heart pumps blood and medicine all over your body, healing you.

To say he’d been surprised to get the call from the hospital at 4 in the morning was an understatement when he’d been shocked to the core. Ever since you had had a big fight with him all those months ago, something that was still unsettled and gnawed at his guts, Frankie had been certain he’d been crossed off the list for good and he had only himself to blame.

He had tried to scrub the yelling, the insults, and the low blows out of his mind, but every time he’d glance at his phone and see his wallpaper of you and his daughter smiling together and it would all come back.

“Fuck you, Frankie! I can’t believe you out of all the people would say this! You were supposed to be my friend!”

“Cariño, please…”

“NO! No Frankie, just no. You’ve gone too far this time.”

“Please, please let me explain. Please.”

“Absolutely not. I heard you loud and clear the first time Francisco and, God, what happened to us? Where did we go wrong? I thought you’d… I thought you understood… I thought...”

He can still hear the sniffles, feel the pain in his stomach as he watches you slam the door on his face on the film reel in his mind, and the desperation that creeps up his spine as his texts and calls go unanswered for weeks. He remembers asking the guys to call you and the mountain of ice spreading through his veins when Will told him that you had blocked his number and didn’t want him to contact you.

Frankie contemplated going to your house after that, but what good would it do? He was broken, beaten and lying breathless on the ground. Nothing would help him rise from there. Definitely not you. He is still all those things and more because he doesn’t have you beside him to weather out the stormy seas.

Getting cut off from you hurt him on levels he had trouble comprehending. Frankie had gotten used to you being around, comfortable in the knowledge that you had always been there as his friend and would always be there and that was his grave mistake.

All those moments in the playground swing back in teenage years when he escaped the yelling and shouting in his house, turbulent times in college where he began experimenting with his sexuality and life all the way to his high-risk career in the Army, the coke rap and losing his lady to another man. You had always been there for him.

You had been his rock and his most ardent supporter, Santi hot on your heels but never reaching the level of trust and intimacy you shared with Frankie. All the times he fucked up, needed a shoulder to cry on or a couch to sleep off his desire to go out and find one of his bad habits for a visit, you opened your door to help him. And what had he done for you? Fuck all but trouble and heartbreak and pain in measures he can never pay back.

He hangs his head, his ballcap twisted between his fists as he wrings the fabric to give himself something to do. He would do anything, everything to take back the last 3 and half months and just hold you tight and tell you that he believes in you and will stand by you in all the ways you want him.

But you are sleeping, eyes closed, hooked up to all the machines that monitor your body and Frankie cannot do that. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed to touch you, because just being in the same room as you without your permission feels like an invasion of sorts.

“Cariño, if you can hear me, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for all the words, all the insults thrown in your face and all the pain I’ve caused you. I wish… I wish I could take it all back.”

He whispers, placing his hand next to you where it lays on top of the bedsheet. The difference between them shocks him still, your elegant fingers next to his calloused and battered ones. The way your skin is unmarred by scars where he has all these silver lines criss-crossing his knuckles.

Taking care to avoid the IV line, he gently moves your hand into his and sighs at the first connection in months. The softness of your hand against his roughness is still something out of a dream; how something so beautiful and lovely and gorgeous could ever want something so dark, drenched in the blood of people he’s killed and lost count of is a mystery Frankie never hopes to have to solve.

Like a thief in the night, he steals yet one more moment with you as he squeezes your hand gently. And like a greedy one too, he rises from the creaky plastic hospital chair and kisses your forehead, pushing his luck a little further. Frankie begins talking, his deep timbre bouncing off the walls as he tells you stories you’ve heard a thousand times already but which bring him comfort.

His thumb strokes your knuckles softly, a soothing gesture more for him than you, while he continues telling you things. Time ticks by and Frankie’s voice grows tired and gravely, but he refuses to stop. He talks about Will, Benny and Santi, the ways all of them get together weekly and he talks about Olivia, his pride and joy, and how she grows and how she misses you. How he misses his friend.

The tone tinges with sadness as Frankie starts to talk about your accident and what has happened in the past couple of days. “They caught him, the drunk bastard that ran the red light. He’s in custody and the traffic cameras have him on tape. You are not going to have to see him, he’ll be locked up for a good time. You just need to get better, cariño, so you can kick my ass in softball again and tell me Oreos taste superior when dunked in cold milk.”

He takes a deep breath, blinking away to keep his raw emotions hidden. Had you not changed your medical info and your contact in case of emergency details, he wouldn’t even be here with you, known about your accident, and the mere idea breaks him, wounds him deep. He hides his tears in his sleeve as he tries to gather himself up again. Frankie needs to be strong now, you have a long recovery ahead of you and he will do his best to help you.

“Te amo, mi corazón y mi alma. Por favor, vuelve a mi. I want to kiss you and tell you I belong to you, that I love you more than as a friend. You hold my heart already and I will gladly give it to you if you come back to me. Smile for me again. I can be your reason why, I’ll do anything to see your soft lips grinning at me, with me...” It becomes too much and Frankie folds in half, draping his upper body on the bed as he cries uncontrollably.

He doesn’t know how long he weeps, the seconds and minutes all blurring together as the sleeves of his shirt go from damp to soaked but he doesn’t care. Frankie loves you and he almost lost you for good and he cannot hold it in anymore. He loves you and he needs to tell you.

He’s so deep inside his mind that he doesn’t recognize the weight on top of his head first. But when fingers card through his locks repeatedly and the motion registers, he’s shocked into reality. Frankie lifts his head carefully, eyes blurry and almost afraid of what he will see.

Your eyes are droopy but the small upturn of the corners of your lips as you regard him softly forces another sob from his chest and it takes all of his willpower not to kiss you right then and there. Your hand doesn’t stop moving as you look at each other in silence, fingers in his curls and Frankie is finally back home, breathing freely.

His lips move, though no sound comes out, telling you te amo over and over again.

Everything taglist @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @mind-p0llution @mariesackler

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

A FMC x Lavinia hurt/comfort fic, where Lavinia comforts FMC or the other way around. I feel really lonely currently.. I'm going through a tough time and I kind of crave some comfort :/ Thank you and sorry for bothering you. Take care :3

Written by @blue-is-the-coolest-color

It felt good to be in the camper again. Between fluffy blankets and surrounded by random books Lavinia has picked up from libraries or bookstores that have interested her. It’s a strange collection, fairy tales and fiction, a few vegetarian cookbooks scattered about the small kitchen area, a few books about animals or fauna. A collection to capture Lavinia’s curiosities of this world.

Speak of the devil. Annisa had to move her arm quickly as the taller woman shifted next to her until she managed to snuggle up close against her, wrapping her arms around Annisa and placing her head on her chest. Annisa rolled her eyes affectionately as she put down the book she had been flipping through in favor of running her hands through Lavinia’s hair.

“You’re very affectionate tonight,” Annisa pointed out, though she really couldn’t blame Lavinia for a bit of clinginess. It had been weeks since they had been able to have a moment alone, but she could tell the ordeal with Rapunzel had caused something short of frustration to play on Lavinia. The girl was distant since she arrived at the camper, deep in thought at moments with her brows furrowed together and lips tight. Annisa had played it off as exhaustion after everything, but now she was a bit more worried as she felt Lavinia cuddle as close as possible.

“Thinking.”

“Ever articulate.”

Annisa teased as she started rubbing circles into Lavinia’s shoulder blades. Soothing the tension that stuck there and causing a soft sound very reminiscent of a purr to leave Lavinia’s lips. The two stayed like that for a moment before Lavinia gently pushed away until she was on her elbows hovering closely. Annisa could see the confusion and frustration in the other woman’s eyes as she waited patiently to see if Lavinia would deflect or if she would say what had been haunting her for the last hour and a half.

“Ranpuzel has killed innocent witches. Simply for being witches, and she wanted to kill me regardless of what it would do to the people of my kingdom. She even threatened the witchling, and yet-” Lavinia’s eyes narrowed slightly in a brief glare as if the reasoning of it pissed her off, “and your friends are really going to let all that go? Even though she’s proud of those she’s slain.”

Annisa listened patiently, not commenting as she felt Lavinia’s arms tense and relaxed with the statements, as if Lavinia was trying to keep from letting the anger consume her more than it has.

“We are not unalike.”

Lavinia admitted reluctantly, as if the statement was acid in her throat.

“We both grew up in less than ideal situations, used or thrown away, isolated, forced to struggle for years. We crawled out of it in different ways, killed people, did horrible things in the name of our own selfish justice or reasoned it in whatever way. We both-”

Lavinia trailed off hard and Annisa had to fight the urge to brush the long silver hair out of her face as it slipped from her shoulders. There’s a pain in Lavinia’s voice, on that Annisa hadn’t heard too often from the other girl before.

“Gothel,” Lavinia tried to articulate what she wanted to say, but it’s choked and Annisa feels her heart break at the sound.

“Lavinia,” Annisa pushed herself up a bit as Lavinia hastily rubbed at her eyes and tried to go back to how she was laying.

“Forget it, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not,” Annisa argued as she let her hands move to Lavinia’s face, trying to get the woman to look at her, “it’s hurting you, so it’s not nothing.”

Lavinia looked away, a bit of shame crossing her face.

“I was once a student of Gothel. There was a time, back when I was young, that I wanted to be strong and feared like her. Because then maybe I could hold on to the things that mattered to me, then maybe-” Lavinia’s eyes darkened and she tried to turn her head as to no look into Annisa’s eyes, but Annisa still saw the tears the threatened to spill over, “I was orphaned when I was very young, I couldn’t use magic, I was alone. Gothel had this power and I wanted her to teach me. She didn’t at first, but decided I was amusing and worth playing with. She’d send me on these ridiculous errands and I’d do an insane amount of magical research to try and convince her I was worth her time.

Then my magic appeared, my ice alignment made itself known and suddenly I was the only student Mother Gothel wanted to teach. She taught me spells she wouldn’t utter to the other witches in her coven. It felt like she had taken me under her wing. I would have done anything for her.”

Annisa listened quietly, horrified by the raw pain that had claimed Lavinia’s throat. She had known Rapunzel was a victim of Gothel, but hearing that Lavinia had also been a target caused her heart to ache for the woman in her arms.

“She told me about how she planned to kill the ice king and needed my help. I was important to this mission and she needed me to follow her orders to the T. I was so excited to help her, to make a real difference and to take down the Tyrant who abused his power and caused the mass slaughter of so many magical beings in the ice kingdom. The king liked to set up his own witch hunts where he’d release a witch he had captured into his private woods to hunt down and kill. Our plan was for me to get captured and to wait for Gothel who would come and stage a breakout. During the panic she would kill the king while I distracted all his guards with a permafrost spell I had read about in a book.

So I did my part, I let the king catch me and I lived in the dungeon underneath the castle. I waited for Gothel to appear. I waited weeks, starving in a dark wet cell. I was so hungry, I hadn’t felt hunger that strong since arriving at the orphanage. Eventually it was my turn to be hunted, and when they let me into those woods I decided I would kill the king myself. So I used an old spell Gothel had me test a while ago and I slaughtered almost all of the king’s men in the forest. And then I killed him and sat on the throne covered in blood and announced that the king had fallen.”

“Gothel had left, abandoned me there, then had the nerve to show up two weeks after my coronation and demand I give her magic in exchange for teaching me. We fought and I threw up the magical barrier around my kingdom using one of her spells for spite.”

“I guess that explains how you don’t age.” Annisa interrupted and then almost hit herself for such a sudden outburst, but Lavinia nodded.

“I don’t age because it’s the same spell Gothel uses to steal magic, only my people can refuse to give me their magic, they offer up their magic to keep the barriers around the kingdom, so I guess in a way I’m not giving them much of a choice.”

Lavinia sighed, balancing herself on one arm for a moment to run a hand through her hair.

“I let all my pain get the better of me, and I hurt more people because I was too afraid of losing my newfound power. I wanted to keep everything out, because that’s how everything could stay safe,” Lavinia shook her head, “I sound like a maniac.”

“Lavinia, it doesn’t matter what you did before, all that matters to me is that you’re trying to do better now,” Annisa flashed the other girl a soft smile, “what Gothel did to you was horrible, and you shouldn’t have had to suffer to feel like you weren’t alone.”

“But I always am, somehow.”

It’s so quiet and heartbreaking to hear Lavinia’s voice like this. Annisa’s smile dropped as she tried to process the hurt, pain, and anger flashing through Lavinia’s icy eyes.

“To have a chance like Rapunzel has been given. To actually be allowed to keep writing my story without having to hurt you more to do so. I’d have to bend over backwards to be given a quarter the chance at redemption that she’s been allowed after everything. Why? Because her story deemed her a hero despite her murders and crimes?”

Maybe weeks ago Annisa would have said something to defend Rapunzel, defend why she should be given chance after chance where Lavinia shouldn’t. Lavinia dropped her head back to her shoulder in frustration.

“...You’re mad because they won’t give you that chance,” Annisa commented as she wrapped her arms around Lavinia’s shoulders, keeping her in place when she felt her start to shift, “I didn’t think you cared so much about what they thought about you.”

“I don’t,” Lavinia grumbled into her shoulder, “but I know it would be easier for you if they trusted me to keep you safe at least. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to sneak around to see me.”

Annisa held the woman tighter, placing a firm kiss to her head as she felt her relax into her arms.

“They’re not all against you. Arin wants to give you a chance, and I could convince Oliver to as well. And you have me.”

“As long as I have you.”

Of course the melting queen would sneak in some sweet nothings while they layed there, Annisa couldn’t say she was surprised by the familiar affection in Lavinia’s voice.

“So you're using me as a pillow here all night? I’m supposed to be home.”

Lavinia smirked, wrapping her arms tighter.

“Stay, please?”

“Oh my,” Annisa pretended to swoon, batting her eyelashes, “did her majesty just say please? To little old me. What a blessing that has bestowed upon my unworthy ears!”

“Brat,” Lavinia laughed, a beautiful light sound that Annisa would kill to hear, “you’re not allowed to leave now, punishment for mouthing off to a queen.”

“You love when I mouth off to you.”

“Maybe.”

The smirk caused Annisa to blush, suggesting a far dirtier joke that Lavinia had opted out of saying.

“I wish I could stay here,” Annisa sighed as she looked up at the ceiling of the cabin, the little snowflake fairy lights making her smile, sinking her fingers into unbelievable soft silver hair as she felt Lavinia tilt to head, eyelashes brushing against Annisa’s neck in soft butterfly kisses, “I love being this close to you.”

Lavinia hummed her agreement as Annisa’s fingers scratched at her scalp and wandered through her hair.

“It’s certainly a treat, watching the Ice Queen melt just for me.”

“You’re the only person worth melting for.”

Annisa hated how her mind immediately flashed to a certain snowman character from a Disney movie. She couldn’t control the way the giggles shook her form. Lavinia propped herself up on her arm, trying to look bored but the soft look in her eyes betrayed her horribly as she watched Annisa laugh at a joke she didn’t understand.

“Remind me that I need you to watch a movie with me.”

Lavinia hummed and let her fingertips trace patterns into Annisa’s arm before bringing her hand up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss that caused Annisa to blush.

“Do you really have to leave now?”

“I guess I can spare five minutes.”

Five turned to an hour, but it wasn’t like Annisa was complaining.

[svtkillua]

milk and tea > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 9.5k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

1 - chap 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 [final]

The pendant hanging from your neck felt heavier the longer you wore it, like the days of the week that had ticked past added pounds to the object by the hour. You simultaneously adored it and loathed it, constantly catching yourself staring at it and fiddling your fingers around the chain. You loved that it reminded you of him, that the present special from Todoroki somehow made you feel like you yourself were special, like the gift was as close to a boyfriend like gesture you’d ever get. It made you feel adored, like the silver chain was a harsh contrast to the gold on your palm because it was a different reality, one that for a moment didn’t seem like a daydream. You hated it, however, when you stared too long and remembered that a few minutes after he slipped it on your neck he left to be with her. You loathed it for being a constant whisper reminding you that it was just a necklace, just a birthday present, not a declaration of love in the form of jewellery, but a kind gesture between friends. Because that was all you could be to Todoroki as hard as you tried to imagine otherwise. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

Your head lifted from its downward angle, eyes trailing from the wooden table top to the wide windows of the cafe, the sounds around you feeling too loud for the small space. People were tucked in at all the tables, several offices on the upper floors of the building leading to a packed cafe every lunch rush. You almost always came down to grab coffee and a bagel, used to the hoards of people that blended in with the beige and brown walls, familiar with the scent of roasting coffee beans and the hum of the espresso grinder. You shifted in your seat as you looked back over at your friend, setting down the sandwich you’d been picking at, brushing your hands together in a silent clap in an attempt to brush off the crumbs. 

“Sorry, Izuku.” Your head shook side to side as you eyed his pouting features, cracking a smile at the way he huffed out a breath of air, lips puckered like a child who hadn’t gotten their way. Midoriya was perhaps your closest friend next to Todoroki, someone who had never pitied you but rather tried to fill your life with brightness. It was no wonder his soulmate was so enamored with him, you couldn’t blame her, his personality was affectionately child like, so awake and full of life you almost envied him for his eternal positivity. “I sort of zoned out.” 

“It’s alright, I was kind of rambling to be honest.” He chuckled with a shrug, the sweater he had on bunching slightly around his neck, the fabric looking too thick for the warm spring temperature. He had on wide, round glasses, his hair a bit more curly than normal from the small amount of humidity in the air, fingers wrapped around a huge plastic cup full of peach tea. “How was your birthday? We missed you at the bar.” 

“Okay I guess.” The fidget you made in your seat was involuntary, fingers trailing over the line on your palm out of habit. The light was hitting it just enough to make it seem to glow, the gold glinting in your irises as you flickered a glance between it and Midoriya, shoulders bobbing in a shrug. “Todoroki came over for a bit, we had a pizza.” 

“That sounds like a boring birthday celebration.” 

“Well I didn’t exactly feel like throwing a wild party, Midoriya.” Your eyes rolled at him, fingers drumming into the table top as you glanced at someone who waved in passing. Part of you felt anxious, wondering where Todoroki was even though you knew he was more than likely working out. He tended to work during his lunch breaks most days, which was what got you in the habit of bringing him coffees and snacks on your way back to the office across the hall. 

“Are you okay?” His palm landed on top of your knuckles, the gesture innocent but filling you with a bit of warmth, the genuine flash of concern on his features almost comforting. “I mean, I know you’re probably upset but, you know.” 

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shrugging and glancing at his soulmark, the bright blue on the face of his hand in a swirly pattern, almost mimicking that of a flower. The color bloomed against his skin tone, like a spot of blue sky poking out from clouds on a summer day, Midoriya himself the ball of sun beaming through the air. “It’s not like there’s much I can do to change how things are, everything just feels wrong. It feels unfair, like something’s not making sense how it was supposed to. I don’t know how to be okay when I’m supposed to be happy alone. I don’t feel happy alone, I feel lonely.” 

He nodded slowly, hand retreating to instead pick at his sweater, cup lifting as his lips wrapped around the straw and he took a gulp, adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes danced around the room as he debated what to say, eyelids fluttering as he blinked when the sun hit him directly in the face. You could almost see his thoughts forming, could picture the words as his messy scrawl put them down in his head, the ink bleeding into his tongue as he set his cup down to speak them into existence. 

“Just because you don’t have a matching mark doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” He reasoned, nodding once towards you with a half hearted smile, his gaze flickering over the planes of your face while you tore your focus away. You knew what he was referring to, that several people without soulmates had ended up together, that people with circumstances like yours made their own destiny and chose their own path. It was illegal to not be with your soulmate but if you didn’t have one all bets were off, anyone else who was alone was up for your taking, but somehow that idea didn’t sound right in your head. 

Maybe it was because you’d gotten so hung up on Todoroki but you didn’t feel like you were meant for just anyone, didn’t feel like you could make a deep connection with someone even if you could sit and talk to them for hours. Most everyone you heard of who didn’t have a soulmate was content being alone, didn’t feel so desperate for affection as you were, didn’t long for someone to hold them and be beside them all their life. For everyone else like you, it sounded like they were indeed made to be alone and they liked it that way, but you loathed it. 

You constantly felt lonely, like the rest of the world had left you fend for yourself, like everyone else was paired off and had forgotten you were still there. It was hard to go outside and see people holding hands, getting close to the person that was meant for them. It stung to hear your friends had met their match, to go to their weddings and smile wide knowing that it would never get to be you standing there in white across from your soulmate. It made your chest burn to picture yourself marrying someone you weren’t made by the universe for, to look at the mark on your hand and know you’d never see it on another person for as long as you lived. It was cruel, like going out most days were torture to the beating muscle in your chest, like being happy was going to be one of the hardest challenges to achieve in your life. 

The only thing that made you feel that way was Todoroki, and anymore that happiness came laced with the longing that you’d grown for him in your gut. You’d fallen so in love with Todoroki that it was hard to see past that now, that picturing him was enough to make your pulse quicken and throat constrict. Now the mere idea of watching him marry someone else made your eyes burn, fingers itching to feel him when you pictured someone else touching his beautiful skin you’d grown so attached to. Knowing he was a few floors up in the gym made your lips pull into a faint smile, almost like you could feel him there, could sense the warmth that radiated from his body and imagine it baking your skin. 

Todoroki made you feel things others wouldn’t, and in a way perhaps that was why you’d found yourself growing so infatuated with him. That was always how they made soulmates seem in movies, like they would understand you in facets others couldn’t, that they would be the person that just clicked into place, like a missing puzzle piece you’d finally found. You couldn’t understand how you’d fallen so in love with someone who wasn’t meant for you, couldn’t grasp that even though you felt all the things you were supposed to feel for a soulmate, he wasn’t that person. Things had been hard before he met Momo, but afterwards it all felt worse, the love in your chest like a weight that made your feet drag and posture slouch. 

“I gotta get back upstairs.” Your head lifted as Midoriya stood, your body following suit as he pulled you into a quick hug, smiling faintly with a nod as he walked off right after. You remained in place for a beat, watching his figure with a sigh, jealous of him, jealous of how easy he tried to always find a bright side in his head. You envied how second nature it was for him to be positive, to find a light in a room full of dark. It’d never been that way for you, never so easy to become a spark that filled everyone with vibrancy, if anything, you’d become the one that always turned the lights off. 

After grabbing another coffee and pastry from the counter, your feet carried you up the flights of stairs towards the office, the steps resonating with loud smacks in the half empty staircase. They complimented the sound of your heart beat as it pounded in your ears, matching in rhythm the quicker you ascended them, the heavy door slamming behind you serving like a crescendo to the song being created behind your rib cage. This had slowly become your favorite part of the day, the short walk down the hall towards the double paned glass doors facing your own, admiring the way the sunlight sprouted through them and created hazy shapes on the carpeted floor. It looked so welcoming, like it was the perfect package just waiting for you to unwrap it, like the universe knew someday Todoroki would work there so they created an entry as warm as he was.  

You spotted him as soon as you walked inside the studio room, waving at the receptionist as you strolled past her and further into the space, fans running that created a quiet hum that mixed with the clicking of cameras. He was always tucked back into the corner office whenever he was taking a break, the one directly across from the main studio space, the room with the most windows that overlooked the streets below even if he insisted he didn’t like heights. He was hunched slightly over his desk, camera laying idly beside his laptop as he moved his finger over the keyboard, brows furrowed together and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His hair was pushed back off his forehead though pieces fell forward, like he kept fussing with it, lips parted as he exhaled, the angle of his jaw accentuated by the light streaming into his space from outside. He was oblivious to your approach, completely deaf to the outside world as he poured himself into his paperwork.

And gosh was he stunning. 

“Todoroki?” 

His head lifted in a flash, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinked rapidly until he focused on you, the curve of his lips spreading until his cheeks bunched upwards, eyes slipping faintly into half moons. The pang of guilt you felt for interrupting him washed away as he took his glasses off and moved to stand while you waved him off, moving closer to set his coffee and lunch down beside his computer. He was staring at you now as incessantly as he’d been doing to his computer, the sound of his foot tapping into the hardwood floors beneath his chair faintly reaching your ear when he sank back into his chair. 

“You didn’t have to bring me lunch.” 

“I knew you wouldn’t eat if I didn’t.” Your shoulders rose and fell with a faint laugh falling from your lips as you used one hand to push your hair away from your face. You looked his way long enough to catch his gaze before tearing your own away, pretending you didn’t feel the way his focus was making your esophagus feel too tight, like your heart had made a new home there. “Someone’s become quite the workaholic lately, hm?” 

“I have not, I just have a lot to do and I’m too tired to continue exercising.” His fingers landed on top of yours as you took a step back to move towards the door, focus shifting back onto his features as he nodded once in your direction. You swallowed hard, trying to force down the rock forming in your throat as he slipped his fingers between your own long enough to give your hand a squeeze with your palms flushed together. It was almost sad how incredible a him barely holding your hand could make you feel, how the smallest amount of affection from Todoroki felt like he’d dropped to his knee and asked you to be his forever. “Thank you though. Stay for a few minutes and keep me company?” 

He hardly had to put up an argument even if you should have shaken your head no, fingers slipping from his grasp as you sunk into the chair across from him, the desk serving as a barrier to separate your bodies. His posture relaxed once you were seated, lips wrapping around the opening of his cup as he snapped his eyes shut and took a quick sip, adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed and dropped the cup back down. The shirt he had on was gray, like the color of a sky after a thunderstorm in the middle of the summer, the colour making him look more drained as he pushed his wheeled chair slightly back from the confines of his desk, dark jeans clinging to his legs. 

The simple smile that flashed over his features as the paper bag crinkled open between his fingers made your own cheeks tug upwards, nothing but a pastry and the spare half of your bagel shoved inside but it was enough to make him feel appreciated. He always looked grateful when you dropped him off a coffee or snack, always made a point of thanking you for days after, like you’d single handedly made the world spin for him. It was one of the million things you loved about him, how humble he was, how he considered every act of kindness he received as a gift, one he couldn’t wait to return the first chance he got. 

“So what are you working on that’s so interesting?” His head rose when you spoke, eyebrows furrowing together as his lips pursed, jaw moving while he chewed on the sandwich. It made you grin, his cheeks full like a hamsters as he shuffled forward and swiveled his laptop around for you to see. The screen illuminated an article of breaking news covering crimes in the neighborhood, images of black and white mugshots dotted around the paragraphs in order to send a scary effect across to the reader.

“New villains showing up everywhere we least expect.” Your gaze flickered over to him when he spoke, eyes following the way his tongue poked out from between his lips, licking a crumb away from the pink flesh. He nodded his head once towards the screen before you focused back on it, voice thick as he half yawned, arms stretching forward and straining against the fabric of his shirt. “They want to be mysterious, I guess, but they’re not too good at covering their tracks. Quite an easy job for all of us right now.” 

Your head bobbed in a nod as he trailed off his speaking, lifting the bagel back to his lips as you leaned back in your seat and turned slightly to look out one of the windows. You had to squint, the sun steaming in just high enough to cover your face in heat, burning your irises in comparison to the pale coloring of the room. It felt peaceful, your eyelids drooping shut and arms folding over your chest, heartbeat at a steady rhythm while you listened to Todoroki’s quiet humming as he ate. For a moment you let yourself pretend you were at home, that the pair of you was married and this was any regular work day evening, content just spending your time together not speaking, because the love you felt in your chest said enough. 

It was so easy to fall into with him, the lull of security he provided simply by being there was too comforting to fight off. It’d become so natural to tune out the rest of the world when you were alone with Todoroki, like second nature to forget that the day dreams in your head were complete fiction. Being alone with him made it feel like it could be real, like the way your heart rate spiked when he laughed was normal because it was made for him to hold. His presence raised up the bubbles of hope in your chest until you felt like you were floating, like he’d placed you on top of a cloud and was letting you feel that sense of love you’d never really get, like he was letting you pretend your feelings for him were reciprocated without him even knowing it. 

It was like you craved Todoroki as much as you wished you could get away from him, like you wanted to fight the pull he had on you but feared how you would continue to breathe without him there giving you oxygen. He was simultaneously becoming your perfect dream and your nightmare, and slowly the two ideals were mixing into one muddled mess of emotions you were having trouble sorting through. You weren’t sure how to separate your feelings for him from reality anymore, weren’t sure how to continue being in his life without completely destroying your own heart in the process. 

A quiet click made your head move, eyes rolling as you groaned loudly and raised your hands to cover your face, Todoroki’s laughter mixing with the sound as he continued snapping away at you with his camera. You could hear his chair scraping against the wood as he stood up, footsteps indicating he was moving closer to you as your legs lifted, knees bent to try and curl yourself into a ball on the chair. 

“C’mon, stop covering your face, the lighting looks great right now.” 

“Knock it off.” 

“Please?” 

It felt right, with just the two of you there giggling over something so pointless, like that was how it was supposed to be. It felt like this was what the universe was supposed to have done, that all along it should have made the pair of you for the other, that you should have been the one that got to make him laugh like that every day. It felt like everything, for a moment, was how it was supposed to be, how your heart had decided it was supposed to be from the first moment you saw him in the park. Just you and Todoroki and no one else, nothing there to interrupt you besides the sounds of your own hearts beating. 

“Stop!” You laughed at his insistence, peeking out from between your fingers to find him bending closer to you, his cheeks pulled into a wide smile as your eyes connected for the second he lowered his camera slightly. He took another picture, you could tell by the sound of his shutter releasing, another groan falling from your lips, this one laced with laughter as he reached a hand out and started gently tugging at your wrist. The contact felt electric, like he was shooting fireworks off that were spreading up your arm and making your heart skip a few beats out of surprise, his laughter only serving to heighten how light everything felt.  

“Todoroki?” 

It was laughable how quickly your mood could plummet, the air no longer feeling light and delicate, but rather too thick for you to breathe in, spine locking up as your legs dropped back to the ground with a gentle tap from your shoes meeting the wood. Todoroki’s touch on your wrist vanished, his laughter trailing off as he stood upright and cleared his throat, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you before focusing off at the door. You didn’t want to look at who it was, didn’t want to see her smiling face when Todoroki moved past you to give her a hug, just knowing it was happening right beside you enough to make your fingers dig into your thighs. 

“Momo, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” His voice was pleasant but you could tell he was surprised, his posture stiff as he slowly came back into your line of sight with her in tow. You focused on her back at first, on the way her hair was tied up into a tight bun, on the clasp of her necklace that was catching the light as Todoroki pulled a chair over from the corner of the room for her to sit in. 

“I wanted to bring you lunch.” Her voice was delicate, like her full volume was someone else’s whisper, her arms folding in her lap as she sat down, Todoroki’s palm on her lower back as she did so enough to make you swallow harshly. She was wearing one of his jackets, you noted, that brown one with the elbow patch you’d sewn on for him when he ripped it during a night out. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.” 

“You’re not.” 

Her head whipped over to focus on you once you spoke, the smile on your lips feeling as ingenuine as it did uncomfortable, your fingers weaving together as she flashed you an tense grin with her nod. She was holding a paper bag with Todoroki’s name written on it in swirly black ink, a heart scribbled beside the T with a smiley face inside. She passed it off to him, her fingers brushing his own as he nodded in appreciation, setting the bag beside your own crumbled up one, it almost seeming like a metaphor for the two of you, one that made you exhale like a deflating balloon, the false sense of comfort you had now ripped away. Todoroki cleared his throat awkwardly, a silence falling over the room that made you itch to escape it, like the walls were closing in on you the longer you sat there watching him glance between the two of you. 

“Well, good.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she nodded and looked over at Todoroki, your eyes flickering to her palm, seeing her soulmark when she flexed her fingers back and forth mid air, like she was trying to stretch out a muscle. Your own palm suddenly felt like it burned, like your subconscious was reminding you of how badly you wished you had that mark. You would have given anything to be in Momo position, to be the person that Todoroki would marry and have a forever with, to be the person Todoroki loved so strongly it was all consuming and soul changing. “How’s your day been?” 

It almost felt like you weren’t there, watching Todoroki turn his screen towards Momo as he started rambling on about his morning, like you were seeing a scene from a movie you didn’t want to be watching. You could almost picture them like that, like this was how they’d be as the years passed, chatting in their kitchen while the rest of the world fell away behind them, their skin growing wrinkles but their palms staying matching and pristine. It stung, like the bubbles of hope you let yourself build up were all being popped one by one, like wasps were stinging your insides just to put you back in your place. 

“Todoroki we need you out here for a second?” A girl poking her head into the room looked apologetic as she motioned for Todoroki to follow her, his eyes darting between your own and Momo’s before he was slipping out. You wanted to grab his wrist and drag him back in, wanted to force him to stay and serve as a barrier protecting you from talking to your own worst fear. Momo was everything you wished you were, the person you were most envious of and found yourself loathing when none of this was her fault. 

She couldn’t help it the universe had paired her with Todoroki, she couldn’t help it that she was made for him and you weren’t. It wasn’t her fault that you didn’t have a soulmate and yet on the nights you laid alone in bed you found yourself blaming her, because she had gotten the person you craved like a drug. She couldn’t change the fact that you were made to be alone, that you had fallen in love with a man that was made for someone else, someone you could never be. You could blame her all you wanted but none of this was Momo’s fault, and deep in your chest you knew that, you just wanted someone to be mad at. Disliking her had seemed the easiest way of avoiding the demons you liked to ignore, the truth of knowing that you were meant for no one and there was no reasoning behind it too much for you to accept. You wanted a cause, wanted an explanation, even if you’d never truly get one. 

And through your jealousy that temporary bandage of an explanation had become her. 

“He works too much sometimes, don’t you think?” Her light voice made you lift your head, eyes flickering over her features as she stared at his desk, drawing on the surface with the tip of her finger. She had a half smile on her lips as she shook her head side to side, laughing faintly as she adjusted in her seat, the dark jeans she had on almost matching the ones Todoroki had on, pale pink sneakers poking out beneath the ends of them. “I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him typing away on his laptop.” 

You tried to laugh, tried to ignore how your chest stung picturing them in bed together, tried to pretend the mental image didn’t make you want to curl up in a ball and scream until your lungs gave out. She meant well, she was trying to make conversation rather than sit there in silence in her boyfriends office, but you doubted your amusement was even half convincing. You weren’t sure it was possible to be genuine when your insides felt like they were rotting, weren’t sure if you could even be truly happy when your soul had stopped trying to a while ago. 

“Yeah, he gets sucked into it sometimes.” Your head bobbed in a half nod as you focused back down on your legs, tracing circles around the red scratch on your knee from when you bumped into your bed frame earlier in the week. 

“I’m sure it’s just because he’s so passionate about it, but sometimes it worries me. I’d hate to see him overwork himself.” She trailed off, eyes focused on you judging by the slight shift in voice and the subtle goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. You lifted your head to lock eyes with her, hands overlapping each other in your lap as she pressed her lips into a thin line, like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. “Does he mention it to you? That he’s tired or unhappy?” 

Todoroki was never really one to share emotions with people, not the ones that he didn’t deem good or important enough. It took you months of persistence before he opened up about any problems he had, any unhappiness that lingered in his heart. He took a lot on himself, held the weight of the world on the tops of his shoulders but still stood tall with a smile on his face. He didn’t like admitting he needed help or comfort, besides with a few people, and somehow you’d become lucky enough to be one of them. 

You’d become the friend who he called in the middle of the night to talk about the things that were keeping him up. You’d become the one who heard of all the problems his parents had caused for him, the one who listened to the things he disliked about society and the way the world worked. You were his confidant and his comfort blanket, and in many ways he was yours, the one person who never judged you when the mark on your hand made you want to ball your eyes out. He never pushed away from you when the rest of the world sent you judging looks, never let others assumptions change the way he acted around you. 

All he wanted at the end of the day was to be happy, and for the people he cared about to feel the same. You knew how heavily it weighed on him when someone was upset or unhappy, and sometimes he felt the need to try and fix things himself. He always went out of his way to do extra work if it’d help his co workers, always volunteered to be the one paying for other’s lunches so it wasn’t a burden. He always went to his family dinners even if they made him miserable, always put up with his parents nasty remarks and harsh judgements because he thought he had to. He pushed back in little ways, with his career and choice of friends, but sometimes you wondered if it was enough for him. 

He had a heart that was surely even more golden than the shimmering line on your palm, one that shined like a lighthouse in the dead of night, but also weighed heavily in his chest. Sometimes you wondered if he was stopping himself from being as happy as he made most everyone else. You questioned, if he could have anything in the entire world, what he would want, what the secret wishes were he had that he’d never uttered out loud. 

If you could wish for anything, you would wish for him. 

“No, but I don’t think he would admit working too much is a problem anyway.” She nodded, glancing away to focus out the window at your response, the light falling over her features like a spotlight on a beautiful painting. “I should get going, my lunch break is ending soon.” 

Her head moved up and down as you stood, eyes not turning towards you as you tugged down on your skirt, making sure it hadn’t ridden up. She was outlining her soulmark, you noticed, the dark lines stretching along her palm almost dark as the night sky, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. You could picture it on Todoroki’s, could see the mark you’d memorized and tried to wish away like a movie playing in your subconscious. They probably traced eachother’s all the time, probably had dreamed their whole lives of meeting the other and lucky for them they had. Lucky for them they had someone who matched them, they got to love the person they wanted to love and didn’t have to hide it under blankets of self loathing.

From the time you were a child it was all you heard about, soulmates, how magical and wonderful it would be when you met them. Everyone talked about it, about how that one person was the only one meant for you, society ensuring that with the laws preventing non-soulmate relationships over a certain age. There were people who didn’t like it, those who found the laws oppressive and out of date, considering most people ended up with their soulmate anyway, but fighting back was pointless. It was all so ingrained into society at this point, the nursery rhymes you’d sing at recess even laced with the messages of your one and only being the one you matched marks with. 

They always said the only person you’d truly love would be your soulmate, and maybe that was why ignoring how strongly you felt for Todoroki hurt so much. Because he wasn’t your soulmate, he didn’t match your mark and yet you’d fallen so damn in love with him it seemed impossible for your brain to accept he didn’t belong with you. Even there in his office, staring at the girl with a mark on her palm that was an exact copy of Todoroki’s, it felt wrong, like the burning in your chest was more than just jealousy. You loved him more than all the stars loved the night sky and you couldn’t help the thought that maybe you loved him more than Momo could. 

“I like your necklace, by the way.” You paused your movements towards the door when she spoke up, spine tensing as your fingers subconsciously rose to toy with the pendant hanging from your neck. You turned back towards her, her eyes drawn to where your hand was, her lips spread in a half smile that curved downwards as her fingers curled, hand palming into a loose fist on her lap. “Todoroki gave it to you?” 

She phrased it like a question but didn’t seem to want an answer, your lips parted slightly as you swallowed down hard. Your hand slipped away from the necklace, landing back at your side as you nodded once nonetheless, her eyes drifting away from the jewelry to instead float back up to your face, smile faded as she blinked a few times. The air felt heavier, more thick, like the unknown thoughts running through her head were clogging up the space, skin feeling too hot like suddenly you had on a hundred layers of clothing. 

“I found it one day, when I was doing the laundry. He’d forgotten to take it out of his jacket pocket before he tossed it in the hamper. I actually had thought it was a present for me. ” Her voice had dropped in volume, her head shaking as she exhaled all the oxygen from her lungs and took a quick glance at the necklace again. Your stomach felt like it dropped, like it had been filled with cement and was too heavy to stay put, an irrational sense of guilt crawling up your spine from the look on her face. She looked wounded and confused, wistful but unaware of what she wanted to say, mouth opening and closing twice before she finally spoke. “Is something going on between the two of you?” 

“What?” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, surprised by her rather upfront question, and judging by the way her eyes widened momentarily she must not have meant to be so forward. She cleared her throat, pursing her lips and exhaling heavily as she looked out the windows again, your fingers curling into your palms to close into tight fists to hide how they were shaking. 

“Do you like Todoroki?” 

“Sorry about that.” Todoroki’s rush back into room cut off anything you would have said, lips parted and pulse pounding in your eardrums as you took a step back towards the door. It felt like you’d been caught red handed doing something you shouldn’t, like you were a little kid with their hands shoved into the cookie jar before dinner. Todoroki’s palm landed on your back as you stumbled slightly into him, his eyebrows raised when he focused down on you, hair falling onto his forehead like he’d just combed his fingers through it. “You okay?” 

“I have to go.” The words tumbled out as you stepped away from the warmth of his palm, ignoring his fingers as they tried to grasp onto your wrist, clearly confused as to why you were hurrying out. You could feel Momo staring at the pair of you, could sense Todoroki’s apprehension to just let you run off so clearly bothered. You knew he wouldn’t follow you, not with Momo there, his soulmate, with her perfect packed lunch for him waiting on his table top. 

It was like you were in a haze, barely anything registering in your eardrums as you walked back into your office, sitting down to riffle through the papers waiting for you on the desk, eyes moving over the words but not reading them. You couldn’t feel anything besides the pounding in your chest, the force so strong it felt like it might burst through your ribcage and fall onto your keyboard. 

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the situation or the question she’d thrown at you. What would she do if she found out you were in love with her soulmate? Would she keep him away from you and cut off the thing you cared about most. Did she know for a fact you liked Todoroki or was she just insecure? Was it that painfully obvious you were completely in love with him? If she knew you liked Todoroki, than did he know? It felt like the room was spinning and no one else could notice but you, like the walls were caving in and on them was written all of your secrets, ready to swallow you whole. 

All the worst case scenarios were flooding into your conscious and making your eyes burn, eyes squeezing shut, the paper fluttering between your fingers as your hands slightly shook from your nerves. It felt like all your emotions had skyrocketed and you didn’t know how to handle it. You simultaneously wanted to call Todoroki to listen to him talk until you calmed down and wanted to run as far away from him as possible, wanted to lock yourself in a room where no one could see you anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with alone but was too heavy of a secret to spill on anyone else. 

Who exactly could you tell that you were madly in love with your closest friend and his soulmate had perhaps figured that out? 

Who could you tell that your world felt like it was about to fall apart?

Sometimes when you were thinking too much your eyes stopped focusing, the world becoming fuzzy as all your attention poured into daydreams rather than what was right in front of you. It felt like a filter, like you’d applied a blur to the colors coming from your laptop, barely registering the sounds of laughter pouring from the speakers. You could fall into a fog when you were like that, could get so distracted away from the world around you with a few dazed blinks at nothing in particular. It always seemed to happen when you had the most on your mind, the loss of focus, your quiet breathing the background noise to the scenarios running through your mind. 

Right now those scenarios were all about Todoroki. 

You’d been thinking about what Momo said all afternoon, that alone enough to make a wave of panic ripple through your gut. She’d looked so distant, so unreadable but somehow intimidating, like she had your entire world in her palms and didn’t realize it yet. You questioned how long she’d been thinking about it, if finding the necklace from Todoroki was what spurred her self doubt or if she’d known from the first time she answered his phone for him and found you on the other end. You wondered if it poured out of you so visibly that everyone knew but just hadn’t had the heart to shut you down, that you were a silent laughing stock to the haves, the only have not there seemed to be who didn’t know their place. 

Your lungs deflated as your lids fell shut, feet shuffling beneath the blanket covering your legs, the sounds of the stupid action film playing on your laptop coming to a stop when you blindly reached out and smacked at the keyboard. The enveloping silence was both too quiet and too loud, letting your thoughts run rampant until they were so aggressive they felt like blood chilling screams. You didn’t know what to do or where to go now, you didn’t know how to handle a situation that hadn’t even happened yet. There were too many what ifs, too many possibilities for how Momo’s question came about and too many options for how bad the outcome from it would be. 

You’d never imagined loving someone would be so messy when you were growing up, always idolizing that passion for another human being as something almost magical, something otherworldly. Everyone made it seem like once you found it nothing else would matter, that the world would stop being so loud until all you could feel was that love in your chest. No one told you how bitter it would be, how acrid the taste in your mouth would be watching the person you loved be with someone else. No one took the time to sit you down and tell you maybe things wouldn’t work out how you wanted, no one set you aside and traced the gold on your palm to warn you maybe you wouldn’t be as lucky as everyone else. 

No one told you back then that maybe you’d be alone now. 

No one told you that love was only magical when someone was loving you back. 

The buzzing beside your thigh made your lids flutter open, the fuzzy light still coming from your computer painting your legs the color of a blue sky. You squinted at your cell phone, blinking rapidly as Todoroki’s name came into focus flashing across the front. He’d texted you a few times since you rushed off so suddenly earlier, always able to tell when something was bothering you even when you wouldn’t admit it. He had a way of knowing things about you before you knew them yourself, always noticing little quirks and habits that he’d point out before you realized you even had them. He knew you better than you did and at times it made it harder to ignore how strongly you felt for him, made it scarier to imagine moving far enough away you wouldn’t see his face everyday. 

Part of you was tempted to let it ring, to ignore his voice just a little longer, to try and peel yourself away from the strong hold he had on you without even realizing it. You didn’t know if he’d talked to Momo, if she told him her suspicions and was now just calling to let you down easy, didn’t know if he was calling to tell you he couldn’t be around you anymore because it caused her discomfort. You didn’t know if you could listen to him reject you, didn’t think you could handle how crestfallen you’d be if he quietly whispered that he couldn’t see you again. You didn’t know what you’d do if your worse case scenario was true and Todoroki was about to be ripped away from you, but the stronger part of your will power was desperate to hear his voice ringing in your ear drum, regardless of the words coming from his parted lips. 

“Hello?” 

“Thank gosh, I was starting to get worried.” His relieved sigh made your lips tug slightly up into a smile on your cheeks, picturing the way his hand was probably tugging through his hair in his bedroom, his legs folded up like a little kid. “You weren’t texting me back all afternoon.” 

“Sorry, I was just sort of out of it.” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you leaned back in your bed, palm resting flat on your stomach, the huge t-shirt that was serving as a pajama top bunching around your waist. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“It’s alright.” He hummed for a moment, ears picking up on the sound of his bedroom window being pulled shut, before he let out a heavy puff of air, presumably moving to sit back down on his oversized bed. You wondered if he was alone in it, gut churning picturing Momo there beside him, nerves swelling with the unknown of where this conversation was going. “You just rushed out so fast earlier I thought I’d done something. You don’t usually ignore my texts and I guess I just thought the worst.” 

His faint chuckle at his own worry made your chest ache, eyes squeezing shut in relief that Momo hadn’t said anything to him, or at least if she hadn’t he didn’t seem to be taking it to heart. You still felt apprehensive, shaken up, like you were on the edge of a cliff and unsure of how good your balance was anymore. It was soothing to hear his voice nonetheless once you got over the initial panic, swallowing hard to get down the rock formed in your esophagus before you spoke.

“You worry too much, Todoroki.” 

“Only about you.” The laugh that followed the syllables made your lungs feel empty of oxygen, body rolling onto its side and face nuzzling slightly in the pillow. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost imagine it was Todoroki’s chest you were burying yourself against, could almost smell his cologne you’d memorized the scent of long ago. It was like you were intoxicated and the only think you’d ever tasted was him, like was your drug of choice and biggest addiction, one you didn’t want to worry about the consequences from. “I can’t stand when you’re mad at me. “ 

“I’m hardly ever mad at you.” 

“Remember that time I broke your coffee table and you didn’t talk to me for a week?” 

It was so easy to fall back into him, so easy to let the conversation flow naturally into your eardrums with him giggling through the phone and rambling everytime you responded. It was simple, loving him, when the rest of the world was quiet. It was easier to love him from afar, through the safety of a phone where you could hang up and close yourself back off once it was over. It was more difficult to hide the stares when you were in front of him, harder to swallow back the praises you wanted to shout at him, to stop yourself from grabbing his hand and never letting go. When you were apart you could pretend everything was fine, you could close your eyes and imagine your soulmarks matched, that he was yours and he was close enough for you to touch. When you were in front of him you were reminded of everything you didn’t have, reminded every time you saw his palm that he already had his someone and it wasn’t you. 

He made things feel easy, made the rhythm of you talking feel easy over the time that passed with him speaking to you through the phone. He chipped away at your unease and put a fog over the worries that had been burning into your brain, if only temporarily. His chatter about his afternoon and tangents about things you already knew were enough to make everything feel warmer, more gentle. He knew how to get to the deepest parts of you and brighten them, knew how to pull you from your own thoughts without much effort, in a way that you could only hope you did for him as well. 

“I wish I was there right now.” His heavy sigh made you swallow, rolling onto your back as you took a peek at the alarm on your bedside table, reading the blinking red numbers with a muted yawn. You ignored the fluttering in your stomach at the idea, picturing him momentarily there in bed beside you, imagining how incredible he’d look with his hair all fused up and his chest rising and falling like the rhythm of a slow ballad. 

“I’m sure Momo will be back soon from her parents, it’s not like you’ll be home alone that much longer.” Her name sounded foreign coming from your tongue but you tried to ignore it, arching your back and moving your legs as you tried to pry the blanket up from underneath you, slipping it over your body soon after. It was soft, like the texture of a those giant teddy bears people got for valentines day, the same color of the sun the sky had been wearing that morning. 

“She probably will, but that wasn’t what I meant.” 

You paused momentarily as his words floated through the phone, unsure of what to say to that, not positive what exactly he meant. It made your pulse quicken, pounding in your fingertips and eardrums like you’d just run a marathon in the middle of summer. He seemed to be contemplating how to continue, judging from the deep breathe you heard him suck in before he spoke again, voice somehow more gentle than before. 

“I wish I was there in your bed, in your apartment, with you.” He paused and cleared his throat slightly, the sound of him flopping onto his pillows melding with the car honking as it drove by down below on the street. “I miss you.” 

“You saw me a few hours ago.” You laughed faintly, heart in your throat and pounding so violently it was hard to breathe, something about his tone and choice of words feeling more intimate than you were used to with him. Suddenly the phone didn’t feel like it was giving you much distance from him, felt like it was making you more vulnerable without seeing his face to try and work out what was going on inside his head. 

“I don’t care, I miss you.” His voice dropped in volume, your lids falling shut as you took a heavy breathe, one that felt like it wasn’t enough oxygen even with your lungs swelled like close-to-popping balloons. “I miss your laugh and your smile and that look you get when you stare out the window too long and forget what we were talking about. I love when you do that, have I ever mentioned that to you? I love when you get all embarrassed or angry and try to act like you were listening to a single thing I said.” 

“What are you doing, Todoroki?” 

“I love your soulmark too. I know you hate talking about it and hate seeing it even more but it’s so beautiful. It’s the prettiest shade of gold, it reminds me of what the sun looks like right before it sets.” He ignored the slight wave to your voice as his kept getting softer through his rambles, your hands shaking as you used one to grip the blanket around your waist. It felt like the room was spinning, like your brain couldn’t keep up with the things tumbling past his lips. “Sometimes I wish mine looked like that. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if mine matched yours.” 

You nearly dropped the phone, your lips pressing into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything. Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, trying not to make a sound as you let the words replay in your head, fingers shaking as you gripped the blanket tighter. It was something you’d thought about a lot as well, about how desperately you wished your marks matched, about how different things would be if he was your soulmate. It was almost strange to hear him saying it, like you were daydreaming rather than being awake, like your dream had come a reality but was laced with a nightmare.

“I was so disappointed that day in the park, when I ran into you and I saw your palm when you went to brush off your sweater. Fuck my stomach just sank to my feet, like someone kicked me in the chest and tried to bash my ribcage in.” His bitter laugh sounded thick, too loud for how mutely he was speaking, your teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip in an attempt to stop yourself from letting him know there were stray tears slipping down your temples onto your cotton pillowcase. “I never hated my own soulmark before that, I never wanted so badly for it to go away or be someone else’s instead. ” 

“Don’t say things like that.” Your voice shook as you interjected him, sniffling once as you shook your head reverently on the bed, the room feeling too small, the air too hot, heart still like a drumbeat in your eardrums. 

“I wanted it to be you so bad.” 

You didn’t bother hiding the quiet cry that fell from your lips as you rolled over onto your side and pressed your cheek into the damp pillow, muscles too tight from how hard you were trying to hold yourself together. It felt right and wrong, it sounded like heaven and hell, hearing him tell you how damn much he wanted you to be his one, because it was what you wanted all along. You’d always wanted Todoroki, you’d wanted him since that day in the park and him finding a soulmate hadn’t changed that. 

But even if he meant the words past his somewhat tired and rambling state of speaking out loud it didn’t matter. Even if he was as in love with you as you were with him, the two of you could never happen, it was never and would never be allowed. Todoroki had a soulmate, and by law he had to be with her. You would never be allowed to touch his skin or kiss his lips, you’d never get permission to marry him someday or fall in love with the eyes of the world watching you. You could never have Todoroki, even if somehow what he was saying held as much weight as it felt like it did. Even if you both loved eachother, you couldn’t be in love, and that was what crushed you the most. 

“Todoroki?” You could faintly make out the sound of Momo’s voice as she called out in the background, cutting off Todoroki as he cleared his throat to say something else, your eyes snapping open, like someone had woken you up from a too deep sleep. Without thinking you pulled the phone from your ear, hitting end and tossing it away to the end of the bed, like it’d been on fire and you’d only now realized. 

Everything felt twisted now, more confusing than before, because Todoroki had never said anything like that to you. He’d never brought up that day you two met in the park, never said that he’d felt as stopped in his tracks as you had been. He never told you that he wished his palm looked like yours, never informed you of how angry it made him that you didn’t match, how much he hated his own palm after seeing yours. 

Todoroki had a soulmate, he had Momo, and he was supposed to be with her, but the words that had tumbled from his lips felt like ones he’d been stopping himself from saying for a long time. He sounded lost, confused, desperate for someone or something to give him a sign on what he was supposed to do, what all the things he’d bottled up meant. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the world piling all of this onto you, onto your already fragile heart and weaning self acceptance. You didn’t know how you were supposed to stop yourself from loving someone when he was making you feel like somewhere in the back of his mind, he loved you back. 

Your hands rose, covering the entirety of your face as you cried quietly into them, chest shaking as you choked on the air you tried to get down, everything feeling like too much once again. You were exhausted and wide awake simultaneously, desperate to sleep but scared of what you’d dream. You didn’t know didn’t know what was the right thing to do and what was the wrong, and weren’t sure which path you even wanted to take. You felt like the world had swallowed you whole, like you were thrown down a pit and left to figure out how to pull yourself free. 

There in your bedroom with his whisper of how much he’d wished you’d been made for him replaying in your head, you had never felt more confused.

-

[previous chapter] - [next chapter]

[tomthesoftie]

the right decision pt. 2

❧ prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?

❧ pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin

❧ genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l

❧ warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?

❧ a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm... shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh

← chap. 1     chap. 3 →

masterlist                     prompt list

In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress. 

Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.

Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.

Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years. 

To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.

“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.

“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”

Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man. 

“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”

You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.

His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them. 

You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”

 Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.

“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”

He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”

He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand. 

“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”

At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong. 

For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.

Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.

“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer. 

You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.

Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?” 

You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.

“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”

“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.

“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.

“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red. 

“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.

“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.

“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”

“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.

“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.

“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.

Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.

Tom.

“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.

“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.

Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”

Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.

It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.

Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.

His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers. 

“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.

“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”

Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky. 

“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.

Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”

Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”

You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.

“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.

“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.

You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.

“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.

Nodding, you give him a silent answer.

“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”

“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.

He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”

You turn to face him in shock, “You?”

“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”

With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”

“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.

You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”

The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”

“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.

He smiles lamentably, “I know.”

The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.

“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.

You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.

Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him. 

Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.

There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.

[ukiyo-jaem]

my timer didn't go off to post this at 0:00 i am so sorry~~

warnings: smut (it's tasteful), mean parents (??) that's about it. it's got fluff in here. NOT PROOFREAD

words: 4.1k (there's a plot, trust me)

domestic!mark lee ugh a fan favorite~

I listened to Fool for You by Zayn while writing so...yeah. alrighty, let's go~~

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

Fool For You

summer breezes and fresh flowers. the first big stretch when you first wake up that has you reeling back into the euphoric feeling of your warm sheets. taking a bite of your favorite dessert that reminds you of home. that scent that carries you away to your childhood of good memories and make-believe scenarios; where the worst disaster was your parents calling you in for dinner.

that's what it felt like to be in his presence.

the late night summer dates with Mark were what felt like true heaven. the nights where both of you would stay up till the early dawn holding each other so closely. the stickiness of one's skin from the morning humidity was beauty in his eyes. your natural form where no one could take you away from him.

"no matter how much i say that i love you, i will always love you more than that."

his words held so much depth when he spoke to you. he treated you like his queen and he truly was your king. he was the love of your wildest dreams. but he was way better...because he was real.

both of your families condemned this love and thought of it as useless and a waste of time. yet, it was all the time for both of you. you didn't need anyone else except mark and mark alone.

but every knife has it's point...and you've both been reaching it slowly but surely. the calls to one's family becoming longer and less loud.

"i don't want to go to dinner with your family though." your words were heartbreaking to his ears but he had made his decision. "i know. please. i know you hate them-" "i could never hate anyone, mark. it pains me but i'd never let it turn into hate" you said and his shoulders dropped. "you're so strong. just one night and i will never ask you to go near them." his eyes pleaded from where he was laying on the bed. your body positioned at the end of the comfy and warm bed.

your mind was lost in thought until you felt his hand grab yours. "pretty please?" he pouted and you groaned laying down. "that's so not cool to pout." you said turning towards him. "but i know it works." he comes closer to lay soft kisses all over your face, ending with a meaningful kiss on your lips.

"fine." you breathed after he finished his moment of passion. "and that is why you're the best." he grabbed your body and pulled you on top of him.

"we have to leave soon." you complained and he groaned. "you wanted me to go so bad and now you're gonna make us late." you said straddling his waist. "yeah yeah yeah." he held your waist and sat up.

you rolled off as he puckered his lips, leaving your boyfriend waiting. "what are you gonna wear, handsome?" you opened the closet. "nice shirt. blazer. pants." he listed off the most vaguest items. "well duh but what color?" you looked at your dresses. "black." he said and you wanted to bang your head on the closet door.

"okay tomorrow we're going shopping and i'm making you add some more color into your wardrobe." you said taking his blazer and dress shirt down. "yes dear." he dragged out.

"i'm going to go get dressed and do makeup." you waved him off and disappeared into the bathroom.

makeup was simple as you were left alone. yet, once you were starting your hair, mark thought it was an amazing idea to come in and try to dance the time away.

music had been playing for the past 20 minutes through the household speakers. it was a usual occurrence and a well loved routine. say you won't let go by james arthur had been sweeping through the house for the past couple of minutes.

his arms wrapped around your waist and his cheek rested against your shoulder.

"you look as beautiful as ever, and i swear that everyday you get better. you make me feel this way some how-" his soft voice carrying you away from the daily task.

"im gonna love you till my lungs run out, i promise till death to us part like in our vows-" his hands gripped yours, twirling you around in the small bathroom, ending up with you both pressed up chest to chest, slow dancing on the tiled floor.

"dont cry." he pouted as he saw your eyes fill with tears. He gently wiped them before they could fall. "then don't be so freaking cute." you pouted and his smile stretched across his face. "ugh you're so cute." he kissed your cheek ever so gently as to not mess up your makeup.

"and you're looking as dashing as ever." you brushed your hands over his dress shirt, the first few buttons still unbuttoned, his silver chain still laying on his exposed collar bones.

"want me to do your hair?" you asked and he didn't hesitate to sit on the toilet lid and wait patiently.

he always seemed so relaxed with your fingers running through his hair; the requests at 3 am after he awakes from an unpleasant dream never making you angry.

his hair was so soft and fun to play with. but with a little touch of magic and hair product, he would transform into his model-like man.

you finished up and let him go relax in the bedroom.

your dress hugged your body so nicely and flattered every curve you thought you never possessed. when paired with the jewelery mark had gotten you for your guys' anniversary, a goddess was being put together in human form.

"ready?" you asked walking back to the room to get your shoes. a whistle made you scoff lightly at the behavior. "ready to come home already and have you all to myself." mark sighed but you walked over to put your phone in your hand-purse along with extra lipstick and perfume.

he started to look nervous about the whole situation. "relax. i'm here for you and you alone. if you want to leave as soon as we get there? we'll just go to a different restaurant." you put a hand on his chest comfortably. "you got this." he smiled as you knew all his emotions at once.

"now let's go. i'm hungry." you kissed his cheek quickly and wiped away the mark of your lip color.

both of you walked hand in hand out of the house and to his car where he nervously drived you both to the restaurant.

"here we are." was all he said as he parked facing the restaurant. inside the window sat his parents and brother. his brother was with his own partner as they all laughed. mark knew he didn't have to worry about his brother not accepting his love. it was all his parents.

"let's go. try to look happy. they're your parents." you defended them. something he never understood about you. when facing backlash from his parents, you just let it go and never returned the hate. you were so loving while they did nothing but try to bring you down.

"but they're raging assholes to you." he turned towards you and you shrugged, wiping something on his cheek away and keeping your hand on the side of his face.

"and that's fine. but you're their baby. they just want the best for you. they'll never be happy with anyone." you tried to put it into perspective but it never helped.

he took your hand off his face and held it tightly. "tell me you want to leave. and we're gone." he said and you laughed lightly. "fine." you agreed and his smile made everything feel better.

"let's get this over with." he exited and ran to get your door like the gentleman he was.

he hooked your arm in his and lead you both towards the entrance.

"try to make memories. they're your parents. they love you." you reminded and he rolled his eyes. "yes, dear." he opened the door for you and didn't let you enter without a quick and cheeky smack to your ass. he acted innocent as he lead you to the round table.

"Oh, Markie!" his mom called drawing all attention to both of your presences. his parents hugged and pinched his cheeks as you greeted his brother and his brother's partner. "you look amazing tonight, y/n." his brother's partner smiled. "oh thank you so much. you look even better though! are those Cartier earrings?!" you rejoiced at their exquisite tastes.

"Only the best for them." Mark's brother smiled and you coo'd at the pure love.

"Here sit next to me." The 2 seats were next to Mark's father and Mark's brother's partner.

You gladly accepted the seat and Mark sat down not long after you. "We already ordered for you guys not knowing when you would show up, I apologize." Mr. Lee smiled at Mark. "Oh that's alright. What's on the menu tonight?" Mark asked, his hand finding yours underneath the white dining cloth. "Well I thought with all your work that we'd treat us all to steak." His mother smiled and you could hear a sigh come from the girl next to you.

"But I haven't seen y/n's figure in a while so I made the exception for a plain salad for you." Mrs. Lee forcibly smiled at you. Mark's hand squeezed a little harder than normal. "Oh thank you for the consideration and accomodations, Mrs. Lee," Her eyes squinted as what seemed like spite. "and might i add that you look amazing tonight." your genuine sincerity broke almost everyone's hearts at the table. "oh why thank you but i'm not one for meaningless small talk." she took a sip from her dark red wine.

"it's alright. i completely understand." you smiled and and she rolled her eyes. "of course you do." she muttered and turned towards her youngest son. "so, mark, what is new at the company?" her eyes held eagerness for conversation, something you'd wish to see atleast once.

"don't listen to the old bat." the beautiful woman said that sat next to you. "it's her baby. nothing is ever good enough for him." she rolled her eyes. "i know. i understand where her heart is." your fingers toying with the dainty necklace resting on your collarbones.

"you can have some of my meal when it comes. i didn't know what they were going to pull so i made sure to eat a burger before i came." you both giggled at the matter as someone cleared their throat. you both looked up to see Mr. Lee sending daggers towards your direction.

"i apologize." you said straightening yourself up in your seat. "what was so funny?" he asked sternly. "we were actually talking about her new line coming out in a couple weeks. something with one of the models. you know how that is." she swooped to your defense. "by the way, how is it coming?" she asked, takin a sip of the ice water infront of her.

"it's..uh..going very well actually. i have some investors coming to my fashion show to see if they'd be interested in investing. if they invest then i would be able to organize shows in other parts of the world. milan, london, paris, beijing, new york, tokyo-" "but are you going to go back to school for business or just dilly-dally until something goes wrong?" Mrs. Lee asked quickly.

"well my father and mother are both ceo's of their company so they help guide me in what i have trouble with." you smiled. mark's hand has become steel as he hasn't let go yet. the waiters brought out the food one by one with a small and plain side salad being placed infront of your body.

mark stared at the bare plate in front of you and wanted to hurl at that being the only food you were going to eat tonight.

"i'm fine." you leaned over to whisper in his ear. "eat so they don't ask you questions." you nudged his elbow.

"sharing food is prohibited." Mr. Lee cut everyone off. "we're not." mark muttered defeated. you swallowed your pride and ate a leaf at a time to try and curb your actual hunger.

mark ate a couple bites but you could tell he was taking his anger out with chewing; jaw clenching was one of his tell-tale signs of anger...and this steak didn't look like tough meat.

"markie. we went to church this past week and there is this lovely graduate student new in the congregation." his mother called as she ate her own food. you could see most of the people almost choke on their food but you remained steady in eating.

inside though, your tears were building up behind a wall that you would try to make stand till tonight when you were truly alone.

"yeah?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

"yes. and she's not seeing anyone right now. her parents agreed to an arranged marriage if you weren't opposing." the killer was that mark didn't say anything. yet, you could hear his knuckles pop as he gripped his steak knife.

the wall was slowly crumbling as you suddenly felt full of the plain watery vegetable. you put your fork down and could only stare at your lap where a napkin laid.

"say something, dude." his brother coughed weakly.

"hell no." mark bursted and everyone could see him try to reel in his words again.

"excuse me?!" Mr. Lee bellowed, causing other dining patrons to look over.

"I'm not going to marry anyone except the love of my life." mark steamed, dropping his utensils.

"you don't know who that is yet, mark. you can't screw around with marriage and get it wrong. especially waste it on a-" mark interrupted his mother, "a what, mom?" he asked and she suddenly lost her words.

silence fell over the table as your napkin had a single ring of wetness appear suddenly. "oh no, not here. not here, sweetie," the gracious lady beside you got up "come on, we're leaving." she said to her husband and lead you out of the restaurant quickly.

as soon as you were out of eye sight, you immediately broke down in ugly tears. "don't listen to them. you are absolutely gorgeous and are a match-made-in-heaven for mark." she rubbed your back sweetly.

"you are so nice to them for no reason. you will be more of a better person than they will ever be-" "we should go. it's gonna get ugly really quickly." Mark's brother nudged you both.

you looked in to see mark and his father standing neck to neck. then as quickly as it started, it ended with mark being the bigger man and leaving. yet, a tearful mr. and mrs. lee following him at a distance.

he wasted no time in taking you in his arms and holding you as you tried your best to cover your cries. "we're going to go before dad follows. i'll stop by tomorrow and check in on you guys. get out of here before dad goes crazy." Mark's brother shouted from his car window.

mark took your hand and dragged you to the car. he put you in and got out of there as quickly as he could.

he was as angry as you had ever seen him. you didn't try to touch him or do anything on the silent ride home. yet, his hand quickly grabbed yours.

"i should have never brought you to them. im so stupid." he groaned as he hit his wheel. "no you're not." you fought with him and he didn't have the heart to go against you.

"you are the best thing that's ever happened to me." he said, a glaze setting into his eyes that you had never seen before.

"and i could never imagine life without you." he swallowed hard and you stayed there in shocked silence.

"you make me better." tears started to roll down his cheeks as he pulled into the driveway.

"please don't cry." yet your empathetic heart made your eyes spill. you both looked at eachother and laughed at the messed up states.

"then you stop crying." he defended and you looked to you lap again. he got out of his side and trailed to yours quickly.

"im gonna show you how much i love you." he said and this sparkle in his eye gleamed so brightly, everyone would've thought he was crazy.

"okay." was all you could respond with, a small smile gracing your perfect face.

he grabbed your legs and carried you all the way to the door. he crossed the doorway and it felt different. it felt more hot and flustered and more passionate.

he closed the door and immediately had you against it. the kisses were hot and filled with lust. yet, you could tell he was getting flustered and trying to rush things. the feeling of two hands on his face made him take a breath of fresh air. "let's just take it slower tonight." you whispered but he heard you loud and clear.

he picked your legs up and put them around his waist, taking his blazer off and throwing it somewhere in the living room. you dress hugged you so perfectly but you wouldn't be needing it anymore tonight.

he navigated the house as if it were you; the back of his hand. your back was now pressed to a cool matress. his hands were rough yet slow as he pulled the black fabric off of your body. his shirt was eventually off and nothing was left between your torsos besides skin.

the moonlight cascading through the window reflected off his chain and it was no longer the soft and loving without a care mark you were used to.

he was going to make you feel his love for you. from the way his fingers played with your clothed core slowly to the heavy breathing between kisses made the night air intoxicating.

his lips were against your neck making imprints of red and purple that were sure to last for a week. both of you rocked against each other in such a rhythm that would have the ocean asking for lessons on harmony.

he picked you up and situated your body at the top of the bed where he wasted no time in shimmying the dress off of your hips so he was met with nothing but you in your panties.

those were long gone as he grabbed and ripped.

"spit." he held his hand out. you obeyed and he wasted no time in running his hand up and down your already wet core.

the kisses were rushed and heated yet you both remembered to slow down as he trailed slowly down your body, kissing every part he could see and praise.

"so beautiful." he whispered, licking a bold stripe up your pussy. you gasped and tried to readjust yourself yet his strong grip on your thighs kept you ground. his arms were hooked around you upper thighs as his hands held your hips and waist down to the bed.

his dark eyes still held that shimmer in them that made you even weaker in the knees.

he wasted none of his time with teasing and gave you exactly what you wanted. "please don't stop." your hands getting lost in his hair.

his hips grinded into the mattress steadily. "im so close already." you whined as he continued his relentless pleasure. "let go for me, baby." he pleaded and if drove you so close to the edge. it made him even more excited as you were blissed out.

it was the perfect time to take advantage of your love, yet, he was going to take care and love you till both of you couldn't.

he took off the confines of his pants and met you at the top of the bed, where you were still completely gone in the euphoric wonderland he pleasured himself to sending you into.

he was slow at first but quickly got lost in this intimate feeling of being so close to you and feeling you in a way no one could relate to.

"faster." you whined but he slowed down. "no, babygirl. we're going to do this right." he cleared the hair from your face and quickly pressed your lips together in a heated kiss.

your leg now over his shoulder as he slowly pounded into you. the knot in his and your stomach felt so much more different and pleasure filled.

your fucked out moans were like angels singing in his ears as your jewelery shined in the moonlight. both of you got sloppier as you were so close to climaxing.

"please cum in me." you begged, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers.

he dropped your leg and got closer, sharing a kiss that left both of you breathless. then the explosion. it was as if a bomb of stars had gone off behind your eyelids as you could only feel your back arch with the unexplained feeling of being... full.

both of you laid breathless and sweaty as you tried to regain your composure and drift down to reality.

mark laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he could feel his own match yours.

once he felt your fingers start to dance through his hair, he knew that he needed to be like this forever. he needed you and only you. he couldn't miss this opportunity on his soul mate coming to him from the beginning.

his arms hooked around your body as reality was hitting.

"i love you, y/n." he said and he could hear your heart begin to beat faster.

"not as much as i could ever love you." you pinky traced up his nose bridge as he slowly drifted into sleep holding the one he cares about most...so close.

~~~~~~

"mmmmm steak." he watched as your eyes lit up at the treat in front of you. "it wasn't even enjoyable yesterday. it's amazing today though." mark's brother admitted from right next to him.

his brother and his partner came over to check up and brought take-out steaks to treat everyone with. just a relaxing night at home with everyone he truly loves and can feel the love from.

he watched your happiness and was automatically taken away~

"she's nothing to you!" his mom yelled as you were lead away from the scene.

"she's everything FOR me." mark retaliated. "but we just want what's best for you." his dad pleaded. "but happiness is all I need. why can't you see that and how she makes me the most happy." mark was at his wits ends.

he needed you and was going to have you as long as you both were breathing.

"it's only going to be a problem in the end that we have to clean up." Mrs. Lee had tears coming down her face.

a brief silence plagued the table. "so are you going to show up to the wedding or no?" he asked and if pure shock could kill someone, his parents would have been 6 feet under.

"no." spoken of disbelief.

"i will not bless the marriage!" his father screamed and stood up, causing mark to chest up to his own father. "you don't need to. I am going to marry that girl out there whether it kills me or not." mark pointed to your crying being not even 100 feet away.

"you're a fool if you believe you actually love her. you're young. you don't know what love is!" Mr. Lee had Mark's collar in his hands.

yet mark broke his grip and straightened his collar.

"then I guess I'm a fool for her and her love." and with that he left to comfort you and try to rebuild you diminished character.

~~~

"earth to Handsome." he was shocked back to reality by your smile and everyone's concerned faces. "i thought you stopped breathing or something." his brother laughed as he saw you clutch your chest and laugh lightly.

"scared us there for a minute." his brother's partner laughed along with you.

"so what was so nice going on in la-la land?" you asked taking a bit from your steak. mark shrugged, taking a sip from his wine glass.

"just...thinking." he smiled.

"well don't do that again. you scared me, you fool." you laughed.

he didn't want to admit that he had been daydreaming of you walking down the aisle in the most beautiful of dresses; something that still could never compare to your beauty. but that will be for a later confession at a later date. one where you'd know his secret: there's an engagement ring with your name on it hiding in his dress shoes in his closet. waiting for the right time in the near future.

he could only smile at your cute expression in the moment.

"then i guess i'm a fool for you."

-fin-

**these are all my opinions on how i read the boys and how i watch them interact with others. this is my own personal opinions and are in no way facts unless cited to proof. thank you®

[the-lady-of-stars]

Wear my heart around your neck

Requested by: Anon. You said you were ready to be ‘emotionally damaged’ by this fic so here you go- a lovely bit of heartbreak with our commander.

Summary: Reader is Master Plo’s padawan and Wolffe’s s/o. When Wolffe pulls you aside for a conversation it’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear. 

Warnings: Angst angst angst i’m so sorry there is death in this-

- In this fic I talk about a music box playing a little melody- I’m picturing the tune Davy Jones’ locket from Pirates of the Caribbean plays, and would 100% recommend listening to it on YouTube while reading this. It very much fits the attitude of this fic in my opinion.  Here it is <3 -

https://youtu.be/9mQlLjeWDwY

A few years ago, after a long mission, Wolffe had returned to you with a gift. It was a music box shaped like a heart, silver-plated, small enough to sit prettily on a matching neck chain. It had been given to him by an old civilian lady he had rescued from a clanker. She owned a jewellers in the village. She gifted him two of these music boxes- told him that she could see love in his eyes. At the time, Wolffe had found it ridiculous. Said that the old lady was probably a bit empty in the head. And yet, despite that, he still found himself clasping the chain of one around your neck, and the other around his. He hadn’t taken it off since that day, wearing it under his armour wherever he went. At night, when he was on a mission without you, he would sit away from his brothers and open the box, listening to its sorrow song over and over again while staring blankly up at the stars, drawing comfort from the thought of you doing the same wherever you were. In short- Wolffe loved you. Desperately. 

Loving wasn’t in the rule book for clones. If anyone were to find out that he had a lover, a Jedi Padawan, no less, he would be sent before the court of the Republic. As would you. Clones were created for one purpose only. Not to love, not to make friends, but to fight. War should have been his only interest. You were nothing but a distraction to his duties. Of course, he didn’t believe this. Wolffe would do anything for you. And he thought, in this instance, that letting you go would be best for you both, no matter how irreparably his heart would be broken.

------

You had both just returned from a successful mission, minutes away from the base. Standing next to him in the troop transport, you looked up at Wolffe, smiling at him lovingly as the rain poured outside. He looked back to you, but instead of smiling back like usual he choked out a breath and turned away. You furrowed your brows in concern. This wasn’t like him at all. Your Wolffe would normally be grinning at you by now. Just as you were about to ask him if he was alright, the transport landed, shaking slightly. When the door opened, he turned to you, as though he was trying to tell you something but couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Wolffe?” you spoke quietly so as not to stress him any more. 

“Can we, uh- you, can you-” he stuttered, looking anywhere but at your eyes. 

“Hey, can I what?”

“Mm- come with me. Outside. We need to talk.”

“Outside? Love, there’s a thunder storm going on, we’ll be soaked-”

Before you could finish your sentence he was already half way across the hangar, headed towards the large door. You watched as he sped away from you, out of the bright artificial lights of the hangar and into the darkness of night and the heavy rain, only illuminated by the pale light of the moon and the occasional burst of lightning. Sighing, you followed after him, pulling the material of your Jedi robes from your shoulders over your head to protect yourself. 

You followed behind Wolffe until he stopped on a rocky ledge, part of the planets natural structure. He gazed down to the bottom of the cliff as he waited for you to catch up. The rain started pounding down in thick sheets, enough to obscure your vision of anything three metres away. Thunder cracked at the sky as lightning highlighted Wolffe’s figure in front of you. 

“Wolffe! What’s going on?” you had to shout to be heard over the weather. 

Again, he didn’t answer, so you stepped closer to him, reaching up and cupping his cheeks with your hands. Looking closely you could see his lips twitching, eyes reddened and puffy. You couldn’t work out whether the wetness on his face consisted of just rain or a mixture of that and tears. He inhaled shakily, hands coming up to gently pull yours away from his face, although he did not drop them.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry. I just can’t do this,” his voice shook heavily as he spoke.

“What do you, mean? Can’t do what?” You could feel your hands becoming numb from the icy-cold rain as they trembled in his grasp. 

“This. Us, I mean. I’m sorry but I can’t commit to you. It’s too much.”

This time you could see the tears leaking from his eyes, but he blinked them away just as fast as they came in an attempt to hold himself together. You felt your own tears nipping at your eyes, your heart racing in shock.

“What? What do you mean you ‘can’t commit’ to me? I thought you loved me!” you felt wracked with a sense of despair, pain, but mostly betrayal. 

“You’re too much for me. I don’t love you, Y/N. This was a mistake. A mistake that never should have happened. I just wanted an escape from the war- that’s all this has been.”

Wolffe wanted to be sick at the words coming out of his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms, apologise and kiss you until the sun came up. But he couldn’t. He was doing this for you. For both of you. If your relationship got discovered you would both be punished severely by the Republic. He couldn’t have that. He knew how much the Jedi order meant to you, how much you cared for your master, Plo Koon. 

“You don’t mean that,” you sobbed. “No- you don’t. This can’t- I love you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just don’t love you any more.”

Wolffe’s heart squeezed in on itself at the heartbreak he saw wash over your face. He had never felt such hatred for himself as he did in that moment. He had considered the outcome of his words for weeks, but nothing he had come up with could compare to the look on your face. He knew, in that moment, that it would haunt him for the rest of his life. His life that he would have to live without you. You would never go back to him now- not after this. 

If he thought his heart couldn’t break any further, the disconsolate whimper that escaped you proved him wrong. He did know, however, that if he didn’t leave now he’d never be able to do it. So he did. It took every ounce of energy in his body to unclasp his hands from yours. He had to clench his fists to keep himself from wiping your tears from your pretty cheeks, telling you that everything was going to be okay. 

Then he turned around. Turned away from you and walked away. He no longer felt the freezing rain flowing down his face, the strong winds blowing his hair. In that moment, Commander Wolffe felt nothing but the cold silver of his music box necklace pressing against his skin, hanging down from the back of his neck to where the pendant lay next to his heart. 

When you finally mustered the courage to walk back to your quarters that night, you nearly fainted when you went past an intoxicated Wolffe laughing while leading a giddy Twi’lek who kept pressing kisses to his jaw back to his room. 

----- time skip to a mission with the Wolffe Pack three days later -------

The mission had gone wrong. So dreadfully, awfully wrong. So many clones had been lost. Flames roared and engulfed the trees of the heavily-forested planet. It had been an ambush. You hadn’t seen the entire army of battle droids approach until it was too late. 

Wolffe stood with his brothers when all finally went quiet. They looked to eachother, seeing that the whole Wolf pack had survived. Wolffe felt a sense of ease come over him at the thought. That was until Boost spoke up.

“Anyone got a visual on Commander Y/N?”

Wolffe felt his heart stop for the second time that week. He could barely see his hand in front of his face through the thick smoke that eminated from the fire. Still he ran blindly, screaming out your name in a desperate attempt to find you. Something caught his attention, the quiet twinkle of a song that he would recognise anywhere. He ran toward the sound in distress, not caring about the flames licking at his armour. 

He choked when he saw you. Your lifeless body draped back against a rock, head slumped over- your little silver music box clutched in your palm, opened by you one last time playing its melancholy little song. The last thing you ever heard. Ever did. 

Wolffe had always loved the song that your matching music boxes played. It had brought him peace, comfort. But in this moment, he decided that he never wanted to hear it again. 

[marvels-writings]

Make Us Work

Maria Hill Masterlist

Requested by @summergeezburr: Me izz back. If u could pretty pls write 7/4/50 from whump dialog 1 where a married!MariaxReader have been fighting a lot and R made M promise that they’ll try harder to fix their marriage. time skip to another argument that ended with M just blurted out why not file for divorce then and r walking out. After a few days R showed up looking defeated in M’s office giving her the signed documents. :)) hehe tysm! -sgb

4: “I don’t know how much longer I can take this…”

7: “You promised me- you promised!”

50: “If I never see you again, just know that I love you so, so much…” 

Word Count: 2,617 (long and ANGSTY)

Warnings: Talk of divorce, divorce papers, arguing

A/N: I know you expected a 1000ish word drabble, but nope. You got twice as much, hope you like it!

Flowers, sunlight, and your friends surround you. Grinning, you fidget with the ring in your hand, looking up at your fiance. Sunlight glinted in your eyes, illuminating off your white dress, reflecting off of the sapphire and silver ring in your hand.

“I always thought love was some sort of fairy tale, but you showed me what love feels like.” You slipped the ring on your wife’s ring finger.

“I love you Maria Hill, and I promise to be your wife until we die, and even after that,”

Maria smiled down at you, blue eyes glinting with happiness.

Straightening her blue tux, she reached out a hand for your ring. Fury handed it to her. It was a rose gold solitaire with small diamonds along the band.

“Y/n, I never understood what love was. But when I met you, you taught me how to love and be loved in return.” Maria whispered, eyes watering at her confession. Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, she finished her vows.

“I promise to love you for the rest of my life and after that.”

She slipped the ring on your finger. A tear fell from her cheek onto her ring. You smiled up at her, leaning in slowly for your first kiss as a married couple.

Everyone around you was clapping and whistling, but it all faded as you kissed your wife. You never wanted to stop loving her. You wanted it to last forever.

—————-

Sitting on your couch, you flipped a page, skimming over the words. Waiting for your wife was worse than you’d thought. You glanced at the clock to check the time. It was well past 3 in the morning.

The door into your shared home opened. Maria stepped into the house quietly. You didn’t bother to look up from your book, instead of flipping another page.

The brunette put her things down near the door, surprise and regret filling her features when she saw you awake, waiting for her.

“Y/n, it’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Maria asked, walking over to the couch and resting her hands on the back of the sofa.

The lamp behind you the only thing illuminating the room, giving it a dim lighting.

“I know it’s late. I was waiting for you.” You answered, sighing and closing your book.

You looked up to face her, expecting an apology. Maria thought you were telling the truth, but you were waiting for her because you couldn’t sleep without her around you. Missions were always the hardest since she was gone, but you managed. But you were tired of just getting through the day without coming home to your wife.

“I, I’m sorry I meant to be home sooner.” Maria apologized, looking down slightly.

“Then why weren’t you?” You asked, getting up and switching on the lights so you could see better. Wincing at the bright light, you rubbed your eyes so you could adjust.

“There were some things I needed to do,” Maria states, looking up at you.

The brunette crossed her arms across her chest, taking a confrontational pose. But she paused when she saw you. There were dark circles underneath your puffy eyes. Your posture was hunched and tired. It looked like you’d been crying.

“ ‘Things’? You’ve been coming home past midnight for almost a week now.” You groaned, running one hand through your hair as you moved to stand near the table near the kitchen.

“I know, I just, I’m sorry, please,” Maria sighed, fidgeting with her hands and moving closer to you. “can we just go to bed?”

Maria touched your arms, sliding her fingertips up your arms until she reached your shoulders. You looked up into her blue eyes, wanting to forget everything and pretend you were okay. But you couldn’t.

“No, can you just,” You inhaled sharply, pulling away from your wife.

“Try harder?”

“What do you want me to do y/n?” Maria asked, tired and exasperated. All she wanted to do now was cuddle with you until she fell asleep, she didn’t want to fight with you, again.

“I don’t know. We’ve been fighting for the past month. We haven’t spent more than a few hours together for weeks. I just,” You sighed, looking down at the ground.

“I want you to try harder to make this work. To make us work.” Looking up at Maria, you saw how tired she was. You didn’t want to push her, but you needed her to promise you she would try harder.

Maria nodded, unsure of how to reassure you. She tried to reach out to you again. You didn’t pull away this time. Intertwining your fingers together on both hands, she leaned forwards to rest her forehead against yours.

The cool metal of your rings brushed against each other’s hands, reminding you of the promises you made to each other.

“Promise me you’ll try harder to make us work.” You whispered, desperate to keep everything together.

“I promise,” Your wife whispered, leaning forwards and meeting her lips to yours.

Sighing into the kiss, you took your hands out of hers and wrapped them around her neck. Maria’s hands wound their way around your waist pulled you closer. You felt her shiver at the feeling of the metal of your ring on her skin. Her lips moved over yours gently, trying desperately to keep you close.

But something in you knew this wouldn’t last. Everything was falling apart. Neither of you knew how to stop it.

———————

“Again?” You asked, burying your face into your hands while you sat at the dining table.

Your wife had just told you she took a week-long mission on the same week you were supposed to take a vacation. You were sick of this, sick of being treated as a second priority.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but they need me,” Maria apologized, sitting across from you on the table and taking your hand.

“And I don’t?” You asked, voice breaking as you faced her.

“Y/n…” Maria trailed off, her blue eyes darting away from you. She couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak on your face because of her.

“Maria, this is the first time we’re taking a vacation in half a year.” You sighed, pulling away from her and leaning back in your chair.

“I want to stay, I can’t,” Maria said, posture hunched as she pulled her hand away from you.

“Why didn’t you pass it on to someone else?” You asked.

“This isn’t something I can just pass onto some rookie.” The brunette argued, you raised an eyebrow.

“So you’re going to ruin our vacation instead?” You scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest and standing up.

“No, yes, I don’t want to.” Your wife answered, getting off her seat and standing in front of you.

You were furious with her, Maria could see that she didn’t blame you. She hadn’t been home at all in the past month. You were allowed to be furious with her. But everything was draining her, fighting with you, working all day, everything was weighing down on her.

“Then why are you?” You demanded, voice rising.

“I don’t have a choice!” Maria shouted, voice higher than yours.

“You had one, and you chose already!” You threw up your hands. Both of you knew shouting wasn’t going to fix anything.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t give us enough time!” Maria shouted. A tear slipped down your cheek, you couldn’t hold everything in anymore.

“You promised me- you promised!” You choked out, trying desperately not to break down in the middle of an argument.

“You promised you’ll try to make us work.”

“I’m trying,” Maria said, her voice lower as she saw you calm down. But her response set you off even more.

“Are you? Going on a mission instead of a vacation is trying?!” You demanded, gesturing towards the paperwork she had to do before the mission.

“What do you want me to do?!” Your wife asked.

“Try harder!” You shouted.

Maria groaned, stepping back and running a hand through her hair. The brunette turned back to face you, ready to shout again. But when she saw the heartbreak on your face, the tears slipping down your cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to shout at you.

“Because I don’t know how much longer I can take this…” You murmured, sighing and rubbing the bridge of your nose before looking back up at her.

“Then why don’t you just get a divorce?!” Maria demanded.

You flinched, your eyes widening in surprise as you took a step back. More tears made their way down your face, hurt filled your chest at the idea.

Maria didn’t mean it, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She stood there in shock, terrified of the words that just came out of her mouth. Almost scared to say anything else, even though it couldn’t be worse than what she already said.

Neither of you ever thought of getting a divorce, you had never wanted to end it with Maria. Even though everything had been falling apart around you, Maria was the only person to stay by your side through it. You loved her, with everything in you.

But she didn’t want you to stay.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything. To ask her if she meant that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you shook your head, picking up your phone from the dining table and brushing past your wife as you got your coat on your way out.

Slamming the door, you broke in front of it. One hand came up to cover your mouth as sobs broke out of you. Pain filled your chest, you didn’t want to find a way to live without your wife. But you were scared you would have to.

Breaking out of her trance, Maria turned to face the door, leaning her forehead against it. She couldn’t hear you sobbing on the other side, she thought you had left.

“Please don’t go,” Maria whispered, hoping you might hear her.

One fist pounded the door until she broke. Her body crumpled as she fell against the door, sobbing. She cried, cried because she pushed away the only person she ever loved. Cried because she made you cry, you, the only person she promised to protect and love forever.

Both of you cried on opposite sides of the door, unable to hear each other. Pleading for this not to happen, but you couldn’t hear each other.

—————————-

After a week, Maria got back from the mission and went into her office. Fury knew about her fight with you and offered her a break. But she refused, she needed to work to keep away from her thoughts about you. She didn’t know where you were, but Fury told her you were safe.

That was all she needed to know.

Even though she wanted you back, she knew she hurt you.

“Mrs. Hill, someone’s here to see you,” Her assistant said, stepping into the doorway nervously.

“You know I’m not seeing anyone right now,” Maria snapped, almost scolding herself for snapping at her assistant.

“It’s Mrs. Y/l/n.” She said, fidgeting.

“Se-Send her in immediately.” Maria stuttered. Surprised that you would come to see her at her office instead of at home.

You walked in, thanking her assistant with a nod. You wore a simple button-up, slacks, and a blazer. It looked like you were ready for work, but your clothes were wrinkled, your makeup was messy. You had always been careful about how you looked whenever you went out, but now, it looked like you couldn’t care less.

“If you aren’t busy, can we talk?” You asked, fidgeting with a large manila envelope in your hands.

“Yeah,” Maria answered, jaw clenching at the envelope.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to start. You’d practiced coming into her office and talking to her at least twenty times at the compound where you had been staying. But now that you were here, you didn’t know what to do.

“Please sit down.” Your wife gestured to the seats in front of her.

You sighed and shook your head, instead of walking in front of her desk. Maria looked up at you expectantly.

“I just, I wanted to drop this off in person.” You sighed, fidgeting with the envelope, debating whether you should give it to her or not.

Maria licked her lips nervously, she almost guessed it would be divorce papers after what she said. But she hoped desperately it wasn’t. The brunette knew there wasn’t anything else that could be in the envelope.

You dropped the envelope in her lap with a sigh, resting your hands on the back of the chairs in front of you. You fidgeted as Maria started to open it, trying to steady your breathing.

“If I never see you again, just know that I love you so, so much…” You trailed off, sighing as you saw your wife take the divorce papers out of the envelope.

Maria pulled out the papers, heartbreaking when she saw the front page. Flipping through them, she saw you had signed every page. All she had to do was sign it, and everything would be over.

The five years of happiness, kisses, being together. Everything would be over if she signed.

You clenched your jaw when you saw a tear slip down Maria’s face. Suppressing the urge to wipe it away from her face and burn the divorce papers, you turned around to leave.

But the ripping sound from behind you stopped you. Whipping your head around, you saw the divorce papers in two pieces in your wife’s hands. Maria had torn the divorce papers.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, confusion filling your features.

“I’m not giving up on us,” Maria whispered, setting down the torn papers and getting up to stand closer to you.

“I thought you already gave up.” You said, looking down on the ground below you.

You didn’t have the strength to start another fight. It had already taken everything in you not to cry while signing the divorce papers. You weren’t sure if you could hold in more tears.

“I didn’t, I never want to.” Your wife stated, hooking one finger under your chin to guide you to look up at her.

There were tears in her beautiful blue eyes, mascara stains on her cheeks. You hesitated to pull away, getting lost in your wife’s eyes again.

“I don’t want you to leave,”

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” You asked, voice breaking.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and onto her finger. It fell onto her ring, your wife sighed and used her finger to wipe away your tears. The cool metal of her ring brushing against your cheek.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” Maria whispered, shuffling closer to you.

Her hand moved to rest on your shoulder, her thumb brushing against your cheek. You barely resisted the temptation to lean into her touch. You’d missed her more than you would like to admit.

“I’d always want to,” You whispered, the sincerity in your voice surprising her.

Maria leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. Your wife planted a soft kiss on your lips, feeling you sigh into it as she pulled away.

“Please, I love you, please stay,” Maria pleaded, her voice low, scared you would run away again.

“We can make this work, make us work, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Just don’t go.” Your wife begged you moved your hands to rest on her hips.

“I, I’m not leaving,” You stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady “I want this to work too,”

“Then we’ll make us work,” Maria promised, leaning in to kiss you again. 

She breathed you in, your scent tickling her nose. It felt like home, you felt like home.

Made Us Work (Sequel)

Buy me a coffee?

A/N: I Spent 2 hours on this so please tell me what you think!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart​ , @summergeezburr​ , @imnotasuperhero  let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[kazledazzel]

hi!!! hope you’re doing well and your food tastes great! for the recent prompt thing...

camp! au

meet messy

“don’t you want to know how I’m feeling?”

pairing (if needed I didn’t see if it was HAHAH you can ignore this if it isn’t needed though hehehe): kierarktina

thank you! write well!! 💓

I’m so sorry this took me so long to reply to! i’ve been so busy but it’s finally done. it’s a little rushed and i’m sorry if it’s not very good, i’m not used to writing kierarktina but they are one of my favourite ships so i’ll try practice more. i hope you like this <3

ao3

As a camp counsellor, Cristina was supposed to set a good example for the campers. She was supposed to make sure they followed all the rules, including following curfew. Being a good camp counsellor probably meant she wasn’t supposed to be sitting on the floor of the camp kitchens at midnight crying over a tub of ice cream. Alas, Emma didn’t care about the fact that Cristina was supposed to set a good example, nor the fact that the first night of camp was way too early to be breaking the rules.

Emma’s cravings were not the only reason Cristina was in need of some ice cream. Cristina’s year had been miserable; she’d been dumped by her boyfriend and had had to put up with Zara Dearborn all year. Her best friend had completely shut her out for no reason, and had proceeded to run off to Switzerland. Or Sweden. Maybe it had been Italy; Cristina wouldn’t know. He hadn’t exactly sent postcards. 

Ice cream seemed to be an appropriate substitute for fake best friends and boys; besides, Cristina was back with her real best friends who had bothered to send postcards, or at least bothered to keep in touch. Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn had become Cristina’s best friends last summer when they’d all met at camp. They had clicked instantly, and by summers end had agreed they would all come back the next summer to counsel once again. 

Last summer, Emma and Julian had fallen in love. Cristina hadn’t been bothered by it; she had been crushing on Mark Blackthorn at the time, but he’d been too busy fawning over Kieran Hunter to notice. She hadn’t really cared, because although Emma and Julian were having an epic love story, they never once made Cristina feel left out. However, now that things with Diego had ended badly, Cristina hoped she might get her own epic love story this summer. 

“I hate men,” Cristina blurted out randomly. She’d talked so much shit about Diego this year after he’d broken her heart, it was beginning to come her catchphrase. She didn’t actually hate men; but heartbreak could drive even flowery goddesses like Cristina to such statements. 

“Same,” Emma agreed, but she didn’t look very convincing. She sat in Julian’s arms, between his legs with his arms wrapped around her waist. She was painting his nails, wearing his hoodie, and had her brows furrowed in concentration. Julian, who had had his head buried in her neck, looked up. His fluffy brown hair was messy and he arched one brow. 

“You don’t hate me,” He said. 

“You’re right. I don’t. What were we talking about again?” Emma asked, as if her concentration was just now breaking. Julian kissed her cheek and she went back to painting his nails. Cristina felt a pang. She knew Julian and Emma would never purposely try and make her feel single. She also knew that they had lived equally as far away from each other as they had Cristina the past year. Emma had travelling with her parents for the year, while Julian had been in sunny LA. Still, Cristina felt a little lonely. 

Cristina could have lost herself in thought right then and there in the refrigerator light of the kitchens. Instead, she was interrupted but a loud bang and the light switching on. She jumped and yelped, worried that maybe they’d been caught. She glanced at Julian and Emma. Emma’s eyes were wild with surprise, and Julian had a black smudge of nail polish on one of his fingers.

There was another clash, and the loud yell of someone cursing. On impulse, Cristina stood up to see who was there. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stood Mark Blackthorn, hair messy from the humidity. He stood in the middle of the kitchen trying not to knock over another metal tray. He glanced up, and smiled upon seeing Cristina, Emma and Julian. 

He might have said hello, but Cristina could really hear. Last summer, she’d thought she’d fallen hard for Mark, but that was nothing compared to what she felt now. His voice was still the same familiar sound it had been last summer when he’d told stories around the campfire, and it struck a chord of nostalgia as Cristina found herself reminiscing on her old crush. 

It was just nostalgia, Cristina told herself. Julian and Emma might have made her want a summer romance, but Cristina wasn’t sure if she trusted herself around love anymore. Maybe her heart was still fragile, but then again, weren’t all hearts fragile?

“Cristina, isn’t it?” Mark said. Cristina tried to bring herself back to reality. She must have missed the first half of introductions, because Mark had overcome his clumsiness and now the rest of the group were looking at her expectantly. 

“Hi,” Cristina said, suppressing the rollercoaster of emotions she’d just felt. She smiled politely; probably a little too politely for a bunch on nineteen year olds on summer vacation. Mark beamed back. Maybe it was the dim kitchen lighting, but there was a splash on red on Mark’s cheeks. 

Another voice followed Cristina’s; a new one, less familiar to Cristina. 

“Mark?” The voice whispered. “Did you get the ice cream?” 

“Come in, Kier,” Mark replied to the voice. Kieran Hunter entered the kitchen, and the first thing Cristina noticed was that he’d dyed his black hair from last summer blue. The second thing she noticed was that he was considerably hotter than he had been last summer. 

“Hi,” Kieran said, a little shyer than Mark had been. 

“We were just going to get some ice cream and go look at the stars. Kier and I don’t get to see those much in New York,” Mark addressed the whole group, but then turned to Cristina. “You guys want to come?”

As the walked to the lake, Cristina found herself wedged between Kieran and Mark. At first she’d been with Emma and Jules, but the two of them hung back slightly, and Cristina wanted to give them privacy. Occasionally she’d look back to see if they were still following, and she’d see them walking hand in hand with heads bent together whispering. 

If Cristina had expected it to be awkward with Mark and Kieran, it wasn’t. Kieran had been a little quiet at first, but Mark was a natural conversationalist. Not in the polite chit chat way, but in the way he could say the most bizarre things and turn it into a meaningful conversation. To Cristina’s relief, Kieran finally warmed up. He knew a lot of the constellations and the legends behind them. Cristina couldn’t help looking at him. He had an ethereal sort of beauty, reminding Cristina of the fair folk he described and he talked about the myths behind the stars. 

When they reached the lake, Emma approached Cristina. She looked a little guilty, so Cristina braced herself. 

“Tina,” Emma started. “Would you absolutely hate me if I went for a walk with Jules? We might just walk back to the bunks we’re both ex-,”

“Emma,” Cristina said calmly. “It’s fine. You are both looking each other like lovesick puppies. Go get all the love out of your system. 

Emma smiled, but glanced worriedly at Mark and Kieran. 

“I don’t want to leave you if it’s awkward-,”

“It’s fine,” Cristina insisted, surprising herself. She didn’t mind being left with new people if it was what she had to do, but for some reason she actually wanted to stay with Kieran and Mark. Maybe it was awful of her, to be intruding in on them. She promised herself that if she felt like a third wheel, she’d leave. 

Cristina plopped herself down on the ground beside Mark and Kieran. Mark was in the middle of the three.

“What was that about?” He asked, looking suspiciously in the direction of his younger brother. 

“They wanted to go for a walk,” Cristina said innocently. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kieran grin. 

“Are you cold, Cristina?” Mark asked, and Cristina was a little taken aback by him offering her som of the blanket. She accepted with a little nod, and saddening all three of them were huddled together with the one blanket wrapped around them. 

Kieran nudged his boyfriend playfully. 

“Don’t you want to know how I’m feeling?” He asked, his steel grey eyes silver in the moonlight. 

“I got you your ice cream. I got you your blanket. What more do you want from me?” Mark laughed, and Cristina felt another pang, only this time it wasn’t loneliness. 

Here she was, with two beautiful boys beside her, and Cristina felt equally captivated by both of them.

[mortedeveles]

A Letter To My Love.

P1: Chaotic Interviews.  ALTML MASTERLIST. 

Copyright © 2020-2021 by Veles.

NOTE: PLEASE READ THE NOTES IN THE MASTERLIST ! 

SUMMARY: Tamaki Amajiki, also known as the Pro Hero Suneater, has been your friends for years. You’ve known each other since U.A. During his entire life, Tamaki has fought against his internal demons, insecurities, and voices that rage in his mind. With the help of his friends Nejire and Mirio and you, he was able to overcome his fears and become one of the most successful Pro Heroes in Japan. 

In the last few years, writing has become an outlet for Tamaki when he feels troubled. And being a Pro Hero comes with great luggage- including hyper fans and their strange romantic theories. One of them being 'TamaY/N', a romantic ship created by his fans. As an anonymous writer, Amajiki can finally express the love and affection he's harbored for Y/N for several years through fanfiction when he has spare time. But when Y/N discovers the infamous fanfiction after an awkward interview, drama, heartbreak, and confusion are bound to break loose.

PAIRING: ProHero! Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!ProHero!reader

THEMES: pining, fluff, angst, etc. [SERIES]

TW: cursing, sexual innuendos, mature themes. 

a/n: my requests are open for business lovelies! i proofread this but if i made any mistakes, please let me know! as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! i appreciate the support and feedback <3 

''His heart sings in joy in her presence. Around her, he's blessed with a sudden warmth that soothes his bones and washes over all the tension and strain in his muscles.'' 

                                                         _______

''Good morning!'' you greet hurriedly to all the workers you leave behind as you race towards the third floor.

Shit, shit, shit! You had an interview with an important press with Tamaki today and it was about to start in three minutes! Luckily, you'd managed to make it to Tamaki's agency on time, but you were yet to arrive at the designated floor. Once you reached the elevator, you let out a sigh of relief. It was empty and while you waited for the elevator to open, you began to pat and smooth over your Pro Hero costume.

It consisted of a sleeveless loose black top with a pair of black shorts, with silver armor that started from your shoulders up to your elbows, paired with black combat boots and silver gloves with some metal and gadgets that allowed you to improve the use of your quirk Liquify.

Before you knew it, the elevator dinged open and you quickly stepped out, plastering a bright smile on your face. The third floor had been emptied- and the equipment from the press stood in the middle- two elegant chairs, cameras and lights, and a few dozen reporters mingling. At the back of the floor, you noticed Tamaki, wearing his Pro hero suit. He was facing the wall- he tended to do when he was nervous.

''Good morning!" you greeted the reporters, who smiled in response. ''I apologize for my tardiness.''

''It's okay. It's a pleasure to meet you, Pro Hero Unda,'' a busy looking woman approached you. She glanced towards Tamaki. ''Do you think you could get Suneater ready for the interview?''

You shoved down a stressed sigh and nodded. ''I'll get him right away!" with one last smile, you stepped away and approached the nervous blue-haired man.

''Tama,'' you spoke in a soft voice and pressed a hand on his shoulder. He was slightly trembling and was muttering something along the lines of 'I want to go home.'

''Y/N,'' his voice was trembling. ''You're late.''

''Ma'am?'' you called out to the lady that had approached you earlier. ''We're ready.''

You sighed and pinched your nose. ''I know, Tama,'' your heart felt heavy. ''I'm really sorry. I was busy doing paperwork and time flew by. Can you forgive me?''

He nodded and turned around and you nearly jumped with joy. The two of you approached the press and sat down on the chairs.

All of the workers quickly surrounded you and you clenched your fists on your lap. Now that they were all crowded around you, it felt like all of them were studying you, nitpicking and silently judging you in their eyes.

You glanced towards Tamaki. It wasn't a surprise that he looked like he felt the same as you. Offering him a small smile, you squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. He offered you a weak smile.

''Good morning, Japan! This is your favorite reporter, Hirano Chizue! I'm live with our two favorite Pro-Heroes, Suneater and Unda!" the smile on her face was so dazzling you were sure it was fake.

''Alright! Let's get started!'' the businesswoman clapped her hands and sat down on the seat in front of you. ''Camera crew, get in position! We're live in 1..2...3!''

You heard several workers move behind you-most likely the ones with cameras and the lady in front of you held a microphone as she smiled towards the camera.

''How are you two doing this morning?'' She pointed the microphone towards both of you.

''Fine, thank you,'' you smiled softly. Tamaki swallowed and raised his gaze towards the businesswoman.

''I'm feeling okay, thank you for asking,'' his voice was somewhat low but at least he replied.

''Good, good!'' Hirano said. She pulled out a clipboard with a neat stack of papers.

''We're honored that you accepted to the interview. Do you mind if we start? The questions are fan-submitted and others are from our crew! Since the two of you are new rising heroes, Japan is eager to know the two of you!'' 

You didn't notice how Tamaki froze at the word 'fan'. You were barely a few minutes into the interview and you already felt exhausted. Nevertheless, you smiled and nodded. 

''Not at all. Ask away.''

Hirano grinned- you didn't miss the hungry glint in her eyes- what type of questions had she chosen?

''This question is for Suneater!'' she shot him a brief smile before trailing her eyes on the paper. Hirano's smile grew.

''What's your relationship with Unda? Are the two of you dating?''

You coughed awkwardly, averting your gaze towards the floor.

''N-no,'' your friend sounded nervous. ''We're good friends, that's all.'' 

When Tamaki said the word 'friends', you couldn't stop the painful ache that throbbed in your chest. You knew that he meant well but you had hoped for years that one day, the two of you would be more than just friends. Clearly, today wasn't that day.

Hirano hummed in response, but she didn't seem convinced. 

''The two of you have a beautiful friendship,'' she complimented. The two of you muttered a 'thank you'.  Hirano's beady eyes focused on you. 

''This question is for Unda! Tell me, your fans are dying to know more about your quirk! Could you give us a brief explanation of your quirk, Liquify?''

A good question, you thought with a smile. Even though it was modern times, the oppression of women and misogyny hadn't been fully eradicated- and it showed during Pro Hero interviews, asking women nothing but shallow questions while the men received interesting ones. Her question was quite refreshing. 

''Of course!" this time, your smile was more genuine. ''So, my quirk Liquify focuses on the state of matter of an inanimate object. I can turn any inanimate object- it doesn't work on plants or animals- into liquid and bend it to my will! I can also return the material into its original state, but I can change its figure and volume,'' you waved your hands as you explained.

''That's a marvelous quirk! Would you mind giving us a demonstration?'' 

''That was an excellent demonstration, Unda!'' you shot Tamaki a glance. He was staring at the ground but when you glanced towards him, he met your eyes and smiled. You smiled back.

With a nod of agreement, you rose and grabbed the closest thing- an empty mug and wrapped your hand around it. When you opened your palm, the once red mug was now a red liquid hovering about your palm, sloshing side to side.

The press gasped in amazement and applauded. You smiled gratefully and returned to your seat.

''Thank you, miss.''

''Now,'' she flipped a page. ''Ooh. This is another question for you, Unda. It's quite a juicy question,'' Hirano bit her lip and grinned. 

''Have you ever read books about TamaY/N?''

Next to you, Tamaki flinched in his seat and coughed lowly. No one seemed to notice, the attention was on you.

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head. 

''I'm sorry, is it a book? What's TamaY/N? I haven't heard of it before...'' you trailed off and glanced at Tamaki, hoping for some kind of help, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. You noticed that the tip of his pointed ears was turning red. Was he feeling okay?

Hirano cackled and shook her head. ''No, TamaY/N is the ship name for Tamaki and you. The fans seem to like seeing the two of you together. It's called fanfiction.''

''Oh...'' you said, feeling clueless. Once the information sunk in, you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth. ''Oh.''

''Oh indeed,'' Hirano agreed. ''It's quite scandalous, you should read some on your own! You'd understand what I'm talking a-,''

''Oh, um, well...'' you nervously played with your fingers.

''Isn't this a professional interview?'' Tamaki snapped. His voice was loud and firm and Hirano flinched in her seat.

''I appreciate the support of fans but we are Pro Heroes and have a right to main-maintain our privacy. The status of our romantic experiences is private and will remain that way.'' 

You nodded in agreement, remaining silent as you had nothing else to add. Hirano looked surprised- she cleared her throat and quickly recollected herself with a smile.

''My sincerest apologies, Suneater, we didn't know you felt like this about your... relationship status. Here, let me find another question for Unda...''

The interview continued for half an hour- but the tension was much more tense and awkward than before. Tamaki gave short and clipped answers.

After the interview, Hirano quietly thanked you for your time and the press quickly left. After an hour, the only ones left were Tamaki and you. He was sitting in the corner of the room. He didn't look particularly nervous but the scowl on his face made you frown with worry. 

Slowly, you approached him and sat down next to him. You spent a few minutes in silence before speaking up.

''Are you okay, Tama?''

You shook your head. ''It's okay. If you want to keep those inquires private, that's perfectly fine. And to be fair, it's better that way. The press feeds on any source or evidence of romance in the Pro Hero industry.''

Tamaki was silent. You noticed how he clenched his fists and lowered his head.

''I'm sorry,'' he mumbled. His shoulders slumped. ''I was being very rude and distant...''

Tamaki smiled at you- but the look in his eyes was distant.

''Yeah...''

                               ━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

After the exhausting interview, Tamaki and you had worked for hours in his agency- racing outside to save civilians, filing paperwork, until it was eight o'clock- his agency would be closing early today. The two of you walked towards Mirio's department- he said a celebration was necessary. 

''Helloo!'' Mirio yelled loudly. You laughed as he grabbed Tamaki and you into a tight bear hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. Even though he wasn't a Pro Hero, he was immensely strong.

''I saw the interview!"' Nejire popped up behind the blonde. ''It's your first interview, I think we should celebrate!" 

''Congrats, Tama and Y/N!'' Eri said and joined the bear hug, along with Nejire.

''I-I can't breathe!" you complained and Tamaki groaned in agreement. Nejire and Eri giggled in amusement as the hug feel apart and everyone stepped back. Mirio jogged towards the dining table and brought a tray with four bowls with delicious takoyaki.

''I think we should celebrate with takoyaki. I've put on a movie that I think everyone will enjoy. Dig in!'' 

Immediately, Tamaki snatched the bowl and raced towards the sofa. You laughed in amusement and followed, holding your bowl of takoyaki.

You spent the rest of the night huddled next to Tamaki and Eri on the small sofa, eating takoyaki. Maybe it wasn't a fancy or expensive celebration, but you wouldn't trade anything in the world for moments like these- lively nights with your best friends. All previous thoughts of the awkward interview and whatever that lady had mentioned washed away, only to be brought back tomorrow. 

a/n: well!! this is my first time writing for my baby tamaki!! what do you guys think? should i make a tag list for this series? dm me if you’re interested! xx 

[vermillionage]

[So I just got inspired by a conversation I had with @silver-wield about this Cloud&Tifa video below I blogged 2 days ago already, how deep Cloti's connection really is displayed, and how watching it made me feel even more convinced that we totally get endgame feels for them in these various scenes comprised. The video just shows canon material and uses only original dialogue. It made me wonder if the same feelings would be evoked by a video of Cloud and Aeriths Scenes and dialogues.]

Besides English isn't my first language, please overlook grammar and spelling mistakes. I'm sorry it there are too many.

There are many opinions who belongs with whom.

Many people who covered this also and I love and respect most of their analyses on it. Not even sure if I added anything new but here are my thoughts on Clerith endgame qualities (& a bit Cloti).

I like Aerith and she is very important. I just don’t see her as the intended endgame partner for Cloud.

This is all an opinion in the end:

Don't get me wrong this relationship is heavy with feelings as well. But it's no endgame. Cloud and Tifa belong; for various reasons we all discuss daily ;). Clearith's core story is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. For me it's a tragic relationship on both sides.

Aerith sees a familiarity in Cloud, something reminding her of, & letting her hope for better days. She sees a strong person who resembles Zack so much. He is handsome and his eyes have the same quality.

She desperately wants to belong (like all of our 3 heroes) because she was alone most of her time. Zack was her first love and a friend. But he is gone. She is heartbroken. Even though she is beloved in the slums by many and has Elmyra, she still feels alone. Zack was someone she confided in. She can't tell anyone the extend of these feelings. Not in the beginning. Always trying to cover up with that flirty cheery attitude. She wants to move on...that much she has uttered to Cloud...but saying and going through such a loss actually are two different things. In OG it was more ambiguous and Aerith was much more determined on Cloud.

Remake gives us (or me)much more clarity. She seems to be aware that it all is flawed..her feelings ..his feelings. (I suppose she even was able to feel that something happened to Zack since she has a connection to the life stream. And it is heartbreaking.) While in OG that was not prominent. You can tell how much she likes Cloud still in the Remake ...but also how much she knows she doesn't belong with him. When she sees the flower in Tifa's Bar, when she sees Cloud and Tifa interact.. when she asks Cloud about Zack indirectly.

Clerith to me is like 'could have/ would have' all the time. If she wouldn't die. If Zack was still alive.. if Cloud actually would be able to connect the dots of Zack being her first love.. if Cloud regaining a glimpse of his past wasn't blocked by the barrier of his fake persona so often, always interrupting progress of remembering Zack, of remembering what happened. Would it be Clerith?

It more seems like in the Remake she is aware now (due to parallel time lines/timetravel...whatever) that her part in this story is not that of Clouds love interest. That's why we get that resolution scene with her. It is scripted that way for a reason. As well as the part where she spots the flower or tells Tifa to follow her heart at the pillar.

Maybe there is a wish in her to be with Cloud if only the circumstances were different. But they aren't and she is no egotistical monster bitch. She kind of backs away. And I love that the devs made me lean to believe this.

Cloud on the other hand also lacks/ misses out on many things:

5 years of his live, his home his family. He lived through torture if barely and severe trauma. He put up a fake persona to shield him from all this grief. He made himself that numb, that he rarely connects to any strong feelings a person would have usually.

Like people on anti depressants. Numb to the very high and the very low array. Just being indifferent. We meet him like that in the beginning of OG/R. When he meets Aerith in chapter 8 he already started to open up a bit to the Trio and Tifa, Marle and others. Meeting Tifa opened the Door. She is essentially his drive to move on ever since their childhood, same this time. But Tifa is more subtle in her approach. Her personality is warm and grounded, but she respects that Clouds needs space and is treading lightly, cautious because she seems to feel he is different than in their childhood. We get that in the rescue Johnny scene f.ex..

Aerith's overwhelmingly positive, coaxing personality contrasts this but also opens this crack in the door even wider. Like I said she is important. He is affected, he feels drawn to it/her.I am convinced he is, because he has no association with her. No past. It is light and bright and also not real. She, trying to overcompansate her sadness. Him, rarely being able to connect to his true self and feelings. He is unaware, she is though to a certain extend (like I mentioned above ) is aware.

His attraction also is spurred on because she is more fragile (Than Tifa and others)..he wants to protect. He is loyal. He wants to be strong and he wants to be acknowledged. Aerith asks for help, is clumsy and looks even helpless sometimes( Walk from the church over the roof tops f. ex.). I don’t say she is weak but her asking for help, he feels like he really is that persona he created for himself. And such feelings can turn into love quite easily. But these feelings to be as good as a Soldier 1st class, to protect and be the hero root in his true self's desire to be all that for Tifa. We can’t discard this either. He also helps Avalanche because Tifa asked.

So again..a pinch of could have/would have..it's heartbreaking.

And in the end it's a dead end for Clerith. Not only because she dies. But because he regains access to his true feelings again (lifestream scene)..and they are with Tifa.

Man~even while he has no access to them he is like a hen around its chick with Tifa.😊 Touching, watching, eye contact all the time (just watch this posts video below).

If anything, Aeriths death brought him further away from being with Tifa completely because he feels he failed yet another important person. A person he even might have loved because she was a friend. He hates this feeling and he blames himself for all the deaths, especially Aerith's. And he is so afraid to lose Tifa like that as well. That's why he keeps his distance later especially in Advent Children. Even though we have the Night under the High Wind.

Because if losing a person like Aerith, yes all lovely and sweet and bright and a friend, but if losing a person after several weeks, can do that to him, what would Tifas death do to him?

He doesn't want her, Marlene or Denzel to suffer if she sees that he has a supposedly terminal disease.

He doesn't trust himself to be really enough for her. He can't face her and leaves and has another episode of self isolation and self doubt. In his mind (?) he talks to Aerith ( and Zack is there as well,yaay) he seeks for forgiveness until he realizes he has to forgive himself first. Aerith and Zack reunited in the life stream, his friends, like his big brother and sister or like guardians watching over him, encouraging him as well to trust in himself the future and his loved ones. He sure loves Aerith, but it feels like a different kind of love from his love for Tifa. And this is fine. I would never say he doesn’t love Aerith. But it’s not in a romantic way. Maybe there was an attraction building when they met in sector 5, a curiosity. But for me his bond with Tifa overpowered this in various scenes before and after that section.

So Cloud leaves, nearly ghosting his family and Tifa, and as a fan of Cloti that was hard to watch, but seeing his reasons I came to accept and understand that he needed this.BIn the end yet again their bond is strong enough for pulling them back together again. He goes to stand with Tifa, his family his friends.

In the End Tifa welcomes him back and he finally starts to believe things will be better.

So for me there is no gravitational romantic pull between Aerith and Cloud but between Tifa and him.

This is a bit all over the place and I didn’t put in sources to prove my points because many others here in the fandom did in their analyses. I took a bit of additional intel from everyone's impressions and my own conclusions on the canon.

I just wanted to give my impression.

https://youtu.be/-Dn3SI4RVco

Visit her channel ❤

[fandom-obessesive]

I’m here pt 1

—

A/n: Hey guys, sorry for my absence, i just got a new job and trying to wrap my head around the fact the I’m apparently bipolar lol which explains a lot but anyways, I hope you enjoy part one, and have a wonder day.

Request: Hello there! I was wondering if you would do a Quil Ateara imagine of series??? :) Oh and you can pick how she’s shifts into a wolf!! :)) -x

Quil Ateara x shifter reader

Warning:loss of parent

Word count:746

———

Graduate High school, go to college, become a tech genius to be the next Steve Jobs, make billions of dollars, and live the rest of your life on a private island in a mansion with food and 3 rooms dedicated to books. That was your plan for how you wanted your life to go, was that too much to ask for? NO…...well, maybe just a bit, ya know what, shut up, no one asked.

As much as your heart yearned for the lack of people and the excessive amount of books you wanted to have for years before you actually read them and only read because a movie of the book was coming out, life obviously had other plans for you, especially being a clearwater.

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

Becoming the next Steve Jobs wasn’t going to be easy but you were willing to do whatever it took to get there, you just need to take the first step. Today's first step happened to be getting out of bed, and your legs seemed to have gone on strike because you could not get yourself out of bed.

‘Okay I need to get up, it's almost 2pm’ ‘I understand that but I dont want to’ ‘I need to though’ ‘fuuuuuuccckkkkk’ scrunching your eyes you sat up, for the hundredth time, and sat at the end of your bed staring at the door. Still not feeling like actually walking, you opted for sitting on the floor and scooting towards it. This process continued till you scooted across the hallway and slid down the stairs. Seth-already knowing what was happening-helped drag you to the kitchen.

Sitting in the kitchen while your mom sat at the table, you made lite conversation for a bit as dinner cooked on the table, you would offer to help but somehow you always manage to burn and or mess up food, even if it's almost done.

The door opened and closed with a loud slam.

Sharing a quick look with your mom, Leah walked in and immediately started raging about Sam, again, for what feels like the millionth time this week. Honestly couldnt blame her though, she recently got broken up with by her High school sweetheart, Sam Uley who being an absolute terd then decided to persue our cousin Emily, like, immediately after they broke up. Obviously we all expected her to reject them, but not even a month later, they’re acting like they’re married. Its kinda weird, not gonna lie, like I love my cousin, but what the fuck.

Anyways, ever since then, Leah decided that not only was she going to show everyone how well she was handling the situation, she was going to make everyone feel exactly the same way she is. I love being able to feel the pain and heartbreak in a relationship I wasn’t a part of. Sarcasm aside, I really do feel bad for her and what she's going through, but therapy works better than just making everyone else as miserable as you are.

All your mom could really do was hug her, Leah was far past spoken condolences.

Setting up the table, with an empty place that awaited to be filled by your father, you, your brother, and mom went on to talk about anything under the sun with your sister chiming in every now and then. We talked about school, work, and then dad and his hunting trip with Charlie Swan.

“Speaking of which I thought he was supposed to be home by no-” Getting cut off by the home phone, mom went to answer it after seeing it was La Push hospital, and the next thing we know she's on the ground crying.

Through hiccups and tears, she choked out that dad had a heart attack on his trip.

He was dead.

We all stood frozen, shocked and grief stricken. Suddenly Leah hunched over in pain, trembling and shaking like crazy.

“Lea-” before you could go over to her, it sounded as if something was...ripping? And then, as if she exploded, Leah was soon replaced by a silver wolf the size of a bear, then the same ripping sound, and another smaller russet wolf stood in the place of your brother.

Having seen Seth and Leah explode into giant wolves with the added pain of the loss of your dad, it all became too much, and soon, all you saw was black.

-----------

A/n: I hope you enjoyed, and again I’m really sorry for my absence!

Taglist: @fangirlanotherjust @kettnerjanea @dillybuggg @its-la-push @britty443 @stylesluxx @ri-wantstorunaway @cncogirl18

[silenceofthecookies]

Only One

Pairing: Kurosaki Ranmaru x female reader

Word count: 1333

Warnings: mentions of cheating and breakup, use of alcohol

Summary: Inspired by Ranmaru’s song ‘Only One’. Ranmaru goes to the bar to drink away his feelings after being dumped again, and he runs into a girl who is doing the same. 

Ranmaru sighed and sat down at the bar. Another girl had dumped him. He had seen it coming, they had been fighting more frequently lately, and he had already found out she had been cheating on him. The only reason he hadn’t brought it up earlier, is because he believed he deserved this. Relationships had never worked out well for him. Cheating, attempts at controlling him, at changing him,… these were common. Yet he kept trying, because maybe, one day, he’d end up in a good relationship.

As if. With his personality and his past, no normal woman could ever love him. They’d want a stable, well-off man who showers them in love and affection, not a grumpy, aggressive man in debt. Not that he’d tell anyone about the debt, he knew these relationships didn’t last long and not everyone had to know this. He ordered a drink, took a sip and sighed. No use in wallowing in self-pity for too long.

His attention got caught by a soft sobbing. A few chairs to the right he noticed you, trying to stop your tears by drinking. You were dressed up nicely, but the makeup running down your face showed at you weren’t here waiting for your date to show up. A breakup, he guessed. After all, he was here for the same reason. The difference between the two of you, is that you probably didn’t see it coming. Ranmaru signaled the barman to give you another drink.

As you were crying, a new glass was put on the bar in front of you. Looking up, you noticed the barman giving you a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order-“ “It’s from the young man over there.”

Looking over to where he was pointing, you noticed a man with silver hair and heterochronic eyes. He looked a little rough, but he was very handsome. As you caught his eye, he smiled a little and nodded towards you, before returning to his drink. This confused you, as often when men treated women to a drink at a bar, they wanted at least a conversation. Yet he didn’t seem to be very interested. You were quite happy with this, as you weren’t really in a conversation-with-a-stranger kind of mood.

The evening progressed, and sadly the gentleman to your left wasn’t the only one who bought you a drink. More men did, or offered, but they did want a conversation. You refused all of them, which ended in a lot of dirty looks and words, which didn’t really make you feel any better. Just when another man was about to bother you, the silver-haired man stepped in.

“I think the lady wants to be left alone.” “Oh really? And who are you to know what she thinks?”

The man stared at Ranmaru, clearly annoyed about his interference. The two stared each other down for a while, before the man grunted and walked off. Ranmaru sighed and visibly relaxed. Finally, he turned to you.

“I can sit down next to you, if you want? We don’t have to talk, but it might keep people away from you.” “…why would you offer that?” “I’m guessing you’ve just been dumped? So have I, and I wouldn’t want to be bothered by other women trying to pick me up right now. I’m guessing you’re the same. If you want to talk, I’ll listen, but if you don’t want to, I can just sit next to you and make sure nobody else bothers you.”

You were shocked. Handsome, considerate, and he just got dumped? Who would dump a guy like that? After looking at him in disbelief, you realized you had to give him an answer, so you nodded at him. Ranmaru nodded back, grabbed his drink and sat down in the seat next to you. A few moments passed in silence, before you finally spoke up.

“I’m Y/N, what’s your name?” “My name is Ranmaru.” “Thank you, Ranmaru.” “Don’t mention it.”

You stayed silent for a while, thinking your day and your whole situation over. Your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you for the last 3 months with a colleague. He had casually dropped that bomb after a dinner to celebrate your 2 year anniversary. ‘This was a goodbye dinner’ he said. ‘I want to leave you so I can be with her’. After that he casually walked off. You were too shocked to ask for an explanation, or to stop him. Once you came to your senses he was long gone, and you broke down. Not wanting to go home yet, you decided the local bar would be a good place to drown your sorrows.

That’s how you ended up here, next to this prince charming in a leather jacket, being protected by his company. The silence was quite comfortable and you had no intention to disturb it. Slowly but surely you calmed down, and realised how stupid you had been. Heartbreak or not, you should’ve known better than to go drink your sorrows away at a bar. Not one to waste a good drink though, you calmly finished your glass and say goodnight to Ranmaru, smiling slightly and thanking him once again before leaving the bar to head home.

The moment the door fell shut behind you, Ranmaru regretted not asking your number. Sure, the situation might not have been right, but the moment he saw you smile, Ranmaru fell. Hard. It was only a small smile, yet it was enough for him to see how beautiful it was. How pure. However, he would have to live with the consequences. You were already gone.

---

That fateful evening had passed, and you were working at the local coffeeshop. You quite enjoyed your work there. The pay was nice, and your colleagues were amazing. When you told them what happened with your ex, they started asking you for his address to ‘pay him a visit’. You had quickly talked them out of it and got to work, but you noticed them looking out for you that day.

Your shift was nearing its end, only 30 more minutes to go. You weren’t usually one to count down until you could go home, but today had just been bad luck all around. You had slipped on a patch of wet floor you hadn’t noticed, you had spilled drinks, a machine broke down while you were using it… At this point you just wanted to lie down on your couch and not move anymore.

Breaking out of your thoughts you looked up at the customer that just came in, surprised to see a face you recognised. It was the man from the bar. His eyes widened at the sight of you as well, and his grumpy look turned into a smile.

“Hey. Y/N, right?” “Yes! Your name was Ranmaru, right? What’ll it be?” you asked, already writing down his name on the cup.

He gave you his order, and you started making it. What a coincidence to see him here again. Finishing up the order, you called his name and handed him the drink.

“Here’s your coffee, enjoy!” “Thanks. Say, are you ok?” “I am, no need to worry! It takes more than that to keep me down!”

You smiled widely at him, nearly forgetting how bad your day had been. Ranmaru stared at you for a little. There was that beautiful smile again. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind.

“Hey, do you want to go on a date with me?”

He had no idea why, but he felt like this time, it could be different. Maybe this relationship wouldn’t be controlling or abusive. He watched your eyes go wide, your cheeks turn red, and thank god, you graced him again with your smile.

“I’d love to. My shift ends in 25 minutes, if you have time?”

Ranmaru smiled too now, happy you seemed so eager. Yes, he could feel it. This time it would be different.