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hoonven · 3 months ago

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❛❛in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.❞

2.6K ⸺ in another life, you and jaeyun are the lovers who made it, but not in this one

‎PAIRING! singer!sim jaeyun x model!female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, lovers to exes trope, a little comedy to lighten the mood? everything everywhere all at once au

WARNINGS! mention of a cigarette but no smoking, and a brief mention of food

The rooftop of an exclusive SoHo venue buzzed with subdued chaos. Neon lights flickered in the distance, the city sprawling out like an endless circuit board of dreams and despair. The East River shimmered, black and silver, winding its way through the arteries of the city, holding the secrets of its inhabitants.

You stood near the edge, cigarette in hand. You didn’t smoke—it was more of a prop, something to hold onto when your hands trembled. You gazed over the city, your reflection caught in the mirrored panels of the building behind you. You were radiant, of course. A goddess in Dior, the tabloids had called you earlier that evening. The faint hum of house music from the party below barely registered in your ears.

“Did you ever think you’d make it here?” a voice breaks through the haze, quiet but unmistakable.

You turned, and your heart felt like it stopped—like it was too ashamed to beat in his presence.

Jaeyun.

He looked just as you remembered, only a little older now. His physique had grown taller and more lean, wearing a sleek black suit. His jet-black hair is styled neatly, with strands softly framing his face, the kind of face that made people believe in angels. There was a melancholic look in his eyes that you don’t remember him carrying before, like he was grieving a love he would never have.

“Jaeyun,” you said, his name catching in your throat like a foreign word.

“It’s been a while,” he said, stepping closer. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with the cool night air. “But you’re still as pretty as I remember.”

You tear your eyes away from him, gazing back out into the glittering city to shield the sudden rush of emotion flooding your chest. “Thanks, I get paid for it.”

Jaeyun laughed softly, the sound as bittersweet as the night. “Still as cold too.”

You flinched but masked it with a sharp inhale. “You look like you’re doing well for yourself.” You gestured vaguely at him, the world-famous singer, the headliner of a sold-out tour, standing before you as if you were still the same two teens who once shared takeout on a dingy apartment floor.

“I am,” Jaeyun said. “And so are you. Look at you, Y/N. You're everything you said you’d be.”

You swallowed hard. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Nah,” Jaeyun said with a shake of his head, his voice dipping low. “But you made it look like it was.”

You both stood in silence for a moment, the city filling the gaps between. The hum of distant sirens. A honk from a cab far below. The ghosts of memories neither of you dared to say aloud.

“You seem happy,” you said, finally breaking the tension.

“I sing songs about heartbreak for a living,” Jaeyun replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “It’s lucrative.”

“Jaeyun…”

“Was it worth it?” he interrupted, his voice cutting through you like a blade.

You looked up sharply, meeting his gaze. The question echoing in the void of your chest—there was no heart inside there.

There was no kindness or gentleness inside you to offer Jaeyun, because you’re mean, and awful, and selfish. But that’s the only way you know how to survive. Poor you, the girl who spent her life surviving.

“I don’t know,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. But for a moment you wondered, and you imagine that in another life you had a better answer.

In another life, in a cozy bookstore on a rainy afternoon, Jaeyun crouched on the floor, flipping through an old songbook. You were perched on a ladder nearby, your fingers trailing over the spines of novels.

“Jaeyun,” you said suddenly, holding up a book with a faded red cover, “this one’s about us. A rockstar and a model who run away to start a goat farm.”

Jaeyun smirked, tilting his head to look at you. “How does it end?”

“Tragically,” you teased.

“Well, good thing we’re writing our own story,” he replied, grinning as he reached up to pull you into his lap.

In another life, you stood at a train station, your suitcase at your feet. Jaeyun was on the other side of the glass, his hand pressed against it, a futile barrier between you.

“I’ll call you,” you mouthed, tears streaming down your face.

“You won’t,” he mouthed back, his expression breaking.

The train’s whistle screamed, and you stepped back. The glass fogged with your breath as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

In another life, on a sunny afternoon at the park. You lay on a picnic blanket, your head in Jaeyun’s lap. He strummed his guitar lazily, singing a melody just for you.

“Write that down,” you said, pointing at his notepad.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the best thing you’ve ever written.”

Jaeyun smirked, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “That’s because it’s about you.”

In another life, at sunset, you stood on a beach, toes buried in the cool sand. You leaned into Jaeyun, his arm draped around your shoulders as you watched the waves crash.

Neither of you spoke, but the silence was filled with a peaceful understanding. The world was vast, and yet you had found each other.

In another life, Jaeyun sped down a dirt trail on a tandem bike, with you laughing uncontrollably behind him.

“Jaeyun!” you screamed, clutching his waist.

“Never back down, never what?!” he yelled back, pedaling harder.

“Never give up!”

The bike hit a bump, sending you both flying into a pile of leaves. You sat up, covered in twigs, and burst into laughter.

In another life, in a cramped one-bedroom apartment, you both sat on the floor surrounded by stacks of unpaid bills. Jaeyun’s hands tugged through his hair as you nervously chewed on your lip.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you said, voice shaking.

“I know,” Jaeyun replied, his voice heavy with frustration. “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “We’ll figure it out.”

In another life, on a rooftop in Paris, Jaeyun pulled out a small velvet box and knelt in front of you. Your breath hitched as he opened it to reveal a ring.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice trembling but his eyes steady.

Your hands flew to your mouth as tears spilled over. “Yes,” you whispered, and when he slid the ring onto your finger, he kissed you like the world was ending.

In another life, the cramped kitchen smelled of garlic and tomato sauce as you stirred the pot, humming along to the music blaring from the tiny speaker. Jaeyun stood next to you, dramatically rapping Eminem’s verse, waving a wooden spoon like a mic.

“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy—”

“—There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti!” you chimed in, voice cracking from laughter.

Jaeyun struck a pose, pretending to look “calm and ready,” while you dissolved into giggles, nearly spilling the sauce.

“Careful, or our spaghetti’s gonna end up on the floor,” Jaeyun teased, stealing a quick kiss on your cheek before turning back to the pasta.

“Focus, Slim Shady,” you shot back, grinning as you twirled noodles onto a plate.

In another life, under an arch of twinkling lights, you and Jaeyun stood hand in hand, surrounded by family and friends.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announced.

Jaeyun dipped you dramatically, eliciting cheers and laughter from the crowd, before kissing you like you were the only two people in the world. When you broke apart, you whispered, “I love you.”

Jaeyun smiled. “I love you more.”

In another life, Jaeyun squatted in front of the washing machine, phone in hand, while you leaned over his shoulder, scrolling through a YouTube tutorial.

“Wait, so we’re not supposed to mix whites and colors?” Jaeyun asked, glancing at the rainbow heap he’d already shoved in.

You frowned. “Apparently not… and why is there, like, five kinds of detergent? Which one do we even use?”

The video continued to play, but neither of you seemed to understand a word. Jaeyun sighed, tossing the phone onto the counter. “Let’s just wing it.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s how we turned your white shirt pink last time.”

“Only Riki and Hoon would crash out over that,” Jaeyun said with a shrug, pressing the start button anyway.

In another life, the dining table was covered in papers, receipts, and a laptop that was dangerously close to overheating. You sat with your head in your hands, glaring at a spreadsheet that refused to balance. Jaeyun was on the other side of the table, furiously tapping on a calculator.

“This makes no sense,” you groaned, shoving a pile of receipts toward him. “How do I owe this much when I’ve already paid so much in quarterly taxes?”

Jaeyun glanced up, his hair sticking out in all directions from running his hands through it. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m not an accountant. I’m just a guy who thought splitting fries was complicated.”

You let out a frustrated laugh. “Whoever came up with taxes was just a hater.”

“Aren’t you a self-proclaimed hater, though?” Jaeyun raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I'm just a girl.” you deadpanned, gesturing to yourself.

Jaeyun snorted, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, new plan. We take a break, grab some coffee, and call an accountant tomorrow. We clearly have no idea what we’re doing.”

You nodded, rubbing your temples. “Fine. But if we get audited, you’re the one explaining why our expense report has coffee runs listed as ‘essential creative fuel.’”

Jaeyun grinned despite the mess. “Deal.”

In another life, the apartment was suffocating with tension. Jaeyun stood by the window, his hands clenched at his sides, while you stood across the living room.

You were both shouting, your words overlapping in a chaotic mess.

“—You never see my perspective—”

“—You always think you’re right—”

“—Stop talking over me—”

“—You’re talking over me too—”

The room buzzed with both voices, neither willing to stop, neither willing to hear.

Finally, your voice cut through. “You know what? Fuck this! I'm done!”

You grabbed your coat, your movements quick and jerky as you stormed to the door.

“I can’t do this right now,” you said, voice cold and distant.

“Y/N—” Jaeyun started, his voice softening, but you didn’t turn back.

The door slammed behind you, the sound echoing through the apartment. Jaeyun sank into the couch, his head falling into his hands as the weight of the argument crashed over him. For a long time, he didn’t move, the quiet of the empty room pressing down on him like a storm cloud.

In another life, in a brightly lit hospital room, Jaeyun cradled your newborn daughter against his chest, his eyes glassy with tears.

“She has your nose,” he said softly, sitting beside you, who was propped up on the hospital bed, exhausted but glowing.

“And your eyes,” you replied with a tired laugh.

Jaeyun leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Each moment captured a glimpse of your love across universes, a kaleidoscope of experiences that are as fleeting as they are eternal.

Jaeyun nodded, as if he'd been expecting that answer. “Yeah, I get it. Can't be too vulnerable right?” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But I’m not like you. You always said I was too nice for my own good. That I’d let the world eat me alive if you weren’t there to save me.”

Your throat tightened. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“But my kindness,” Jaeyun continued, “doesn't make me weak. It's how I fight. In a world this cruel, it’s the only way I know how to survive. And I knew, even then, that I could’ve been the one to leave. Could’ve been the one to hurt you first. But I didn’t want that.” He took a step closer, his voice quieter now. “I wanted to make sure I was the one who got hurt. So you could keep fighting in your own way.”

You closed your eyes, but the tears still pricked at the edges. The weight of his words, of your shared past, of everything unsaid—it was unbearable.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice gentler now, “You’re not a bad person. You're just trying to protect yourself.”

You opened your eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the city fell away. Just the two of you, suspended in the quiet ache of what could’ve been.

“You know,” Jaeyun said, a faint, longing smile curling his lips, “in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

The words struck you like a blow, a montage of moments in this life—of what could've been in this universe, flashing before your eyes—walking hand in hand down quiet streets, mornings spent tangled in sheets, laughing over burnt toast, folding laundry in the dim light of a shared apartment.

And then Jaeyun stepped back. The moment shattered like glass.

He smiled at you one last time, a quiet, knowing smile, and then turned, walking away into the neon haze of the party below.

You stood frozen, your heart aching as you watched him disappear. The city continued to hum around you, oblivious to the pieces of your heart scattering like ash into the night.

You were heartless now, just like you always wanted.

In the reflection of the glass, you saw yourself—the goddess in Dior—and felt the crushing weight of everything you had fought for.

It wasn’t enough.

In another life, you and Jaeyun are in a dimly lit laundromat, late at night. The hum of the washing machines fills the air, punctuated by the occasional beep of a dryer finishing its cycle. You sit side by side on a cracked plastic bench, both staring at the spinning drum of a washer in front of you. A basket of unfolded clothes sits between you.

You break the silence.

“I always thought my life would be bigger than this.”

Jaeyun glances at you, but you keep your gaze fixed on the washing machine. “Bigger than doing laundry?”

You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to look at him. “Yeah. You know, I wanted the world. Lights, stages, all eyes on me.”

Jaeyun nods, he’s heard you say this before, but this time, there’s something heavier in your voice. “You could still have it.”

You lean back against the cold wall, tilting your head toward him. “Could I? I feel like I've spent so much time running toward something I don't even recognize anymore. And now I'm here. Folding clothes and splitting bills. With you.”

Jaeyun looks down at his hands, fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. He takes a deep breath, the words hanging heavy in his chest. “Y/N, do you ever think… maybe this is enough? That maybe this—” he gestures to the laundromat, the mundane surroundings “—isn’t just some filler episode of our lives?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Laundry and taxes? That’s your big dream?”

Jaeyun's lips twitch into a sad smile. “Not just laundry and taxes. Laundry and taxes with you.”

The weight of his words sink in, softening your teasing smile. Your eyes search his face for a moment, as if seeing him for the first time. “Jaeyun, I—“

“I know. You’re not ready to stop running, and I’ll never stop cheering for you. But if there’s a version of us out there, in another life, where we don’t need the lights and the noise—where we’re just… us—I think I’d like that.”

The washer buzzes, startling you both. You blink rapidly, caught between the spinning thoughts in your mind and the sudden, jarring noise. You swallow, picking up a shirt from the basket and holding it in your lap. “In another life, huh?”

Jaeyun nods, leaning back against the wall with a wistful smile. “In every life.”

You don’t say anything, but your hand brushes against his as you both sit in silence, and the hum of the machines continues.

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senanatheskenana · 9 months ago

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YOU MATTER TO ME <3

How do MHA characters show you they care?

~~~

Midoriya hugs you, gentle but reassuring, like soft calm clouds. He whispers beautiful nothings into your hair as he gently rocks you both, hushing you and kissing your delicate eyelids like all he was made for was caring for you. There's an understated tenderness in his touch that makes you never want to leave- your lighthouse in a storm that remains just as bright if only to guide you and save you from the tossing surge of the world outside of you both.

Bakugo struggles, hands shaking as he thrusts bouquets of sunflowers at your chest. He fights off a blush each time, acting as if he's forced to do such a thing; when in reality, he stays awake wondering what flower to buy you next to make you smile so brightly at him again. It's the kind of smile that makes his heart flutter in his throat as if butterflies are trying to escape and land in your soft hair

Kirishima loves rainy days. Not for the weather, but for you. The shallow, wide puddles give him an excuse to gather you in his arms and carry you like the princess he knows you are to the other side. He gazes softly down at you as you cling to his chest, wondering just what he did so right to deserve something as perfect as you. It's not much, he knows, but hopefully being your saviour from harmless puddles can show you just how grateful he is for you.

Iida holds open every door for you, moves every chair on your dates, and treats you like someone worth respect- because he knows you are. He knows better than anyone that you are worthy of every act. He makes your tea and brings it to you so you never have to move. Iida doesn't think its much- only a small amount of what you deserve. But every little act, he does with the utmost love and care.

Todoroki isn't wonderful at expressing his feelings. He'd much rather listen to you. And he does. He listens to every word and remembers every joke and every laugh. He's there through everything- laughter or tears. There's just something so radiant about you that makes him unable to speak, instead, all wrapped up in the colours of your voice. Todoroki would listen to every problem if it meant that you wouldn't ever have to worry again.

#mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #iida x reader #fluff #mha fluff #bnha x reader

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

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and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

You squint your eyes at the pink neon sign flickering against the fake moss tapestry to the left of the bar. A young couple poses in front of it, smiling at their mutual friend who holds the phone to take a picture. Beautiful, radiant, charming. All while you sit on the barstool, hunched over the half-empty cocktail that you swirl in your grip, relishing the condensation on the rim of the glass. With your straw, you stab at the maraschino cherry floating around in there, popping it into your mouth. The sweetness cuts through the bitter liquor, or loneliness, lingering on your tongue and you think that maybe tonight isn’t so bad, despite your sulking.

It's another happy hour, courtesy of your boss. Everyone on your team is here, who you genuinely get along with, no problem. But there’s one person missing, the one person you want to see the most. Nanami is the only one to decline tonight’s invitation to the new trendy bar downtown. During your lunch together, you don’t ask why. You don’t want him to suspect that you’re devastated by his decision, which you are. So, you talk about how much you’re craving cake instead, changing the topic all together, hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in your tone.

Ever since he walked you home in the rain the other week, protected under his umbrella, there’s been this obvious vibe between you. Still, it could all be wishful thinking on your end. You never did get around to confessing your true feelings for him; you’d rather enjoy what you have as it is. Why ruin something good? There’s the hope that maybe things could be even better if you take this leap of faith. But it’s always terrifying taking the plunge, isn’t it? Especially when you don’t know if you’ll sink or swim.

It was by the fourth cocktail that you decided to leave your group gathered around the back table. That’s why you’re here now, sulking between strangers at the bar, chewing on your tiny straw until it’s gnarled on one end. Your friends on the team know the real reason, trying to dismiss all the jokes from your more annoying coworkers about how you must be missing your “work husband”. Even they’re shipping the two of you together. If only you knew what Nanami truly thinks about all this. About you.

To your complete shock, it doesn’t take you long to find out. Still in his work attire, Nanami walks through the front door, hair swept beautifully as always. As soon as his eyes find yours, he smiles, making his way to you. It’s only when he approaches you that you notice a small box in his hands. “Good. You’re still here,” he says, smile growing wider.

You blink at him several times, as if you’re not seeing him clearly.

“Can you come with me? I have something for you.” His voice is trembling slightly, excited.

You nod, still rendered speechless, wobbly as you follow him outside. When you’re alone in front of the establishment, the voices of those inside muffled and distant, you stare down at your shoes, anticipating what’s about to happen. He holds the box out to you, opening the cover slowly, revealing a personalized cake decorated beautifully with your name written in neat frosting on the top.

You meet his gaze, putting your hand to your mouth, hiding a gasp. “Nanami.”

“I made this for you. Because of what we talked about today.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards to you. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. I…” He trails off, nervous, scared, uncertain. Just like you.

This time, you follow through with what you’ve been wanting to do since that rainy night not too long ago. You close the distance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Sparks fly and whatever buzz you have from the alcohol is replaced with this electricity. “Me too.”

Author's Note: A continuation of this. Yet another coworker!Nanami drabble inspired by a song that’s making me feel all sappy and soft. 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #coworker!nanami #jjk fluff

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Rainy Season - Part 7

Final Chapter and Epilogue

Everybody’s Got Somebody but Me

Azriel Eris x Reader

Azriel pleads his case to his mate before the Inner Circle, an unexpected interruption sheds additional light on the situation, Y/N makes a decision.

Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

The room thrummed with erratic energy as everyone awaited the arrival of the Shadowsinger. Eris watched intently as Y/N kept a collected facade before the present group, but behind her eyes a tumultuous storm raged. She hadn’t seen her mate since she’d left - since he’d betrayed her - and maybe she was a coward for facing him before an audience of his loved ones but she was done tip-toeing the line, done praying that the words falling from her mate’s lips were truth when he’d done nothing but spin ugly lies from that beautiful mouth. She wanted the real story, the whole story, and Truth Teller itself couldn’t extract it better than the audience before them.

Her gut-wrenched with his nearing presence, the doors would open any moment as guards would bring him in, before her, before his family, before Eris and her sister.

The only missing parties in the space were Amren who had stayed behind in Velaris to keep a presence in place and Nesta who had other matters to attend to. Mor’s attendance was welcome but not required, given the obvious histories between she and Eris - her mate.

Eris kept an amused facade beneath his own surface, though he was anything but. Y/N looked resplendent seated at the lone chair at the head of his table. Seated to her right, he kept a respectful distance, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and warm her shaking hand under the table.

And Eris couldn’t be certain by the flat expression on his face, but he could have sworn the slightest gleam of amusement glimmered in Lucien’s eye as the mechanical one focused in on a clearly unimpressed Camila who was unabashedly taking stock of the middle Archeron sister at his side.

The door unlatched, all traces of civility falling from Rhys’ face as Azriel stepped into the now darkened room.

Azriel looked terrible, the purple bruises and dark circles under his eyes draining the remaining life from his sallowed skin, eyes red and puffy.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, burying down the instinct doing its damndest to get her to run to her dejected mate.

Azriel looked straight past every single person at the table, not even sparing a glance to the seething High Lord staring daggers in his direction. His hazel eyes blew wide as they honed in on his mate. His perfect fucking mate. He truly had drained so much from her, hadn’t he? Never once stopping to notice the signs.

Now, before him was a divine female - full in all the places he’d once gripped so fervently, her complexion radiant, hair lustrous, lips so delectable he wanted to bite them. There was no broken female here, this was a female who has been living a life of love and joy. The only thing missing was her bright smile, now absent in his presence.

Another thing he’d taken from her.

“Y/N”, Azriel mouthed, no sound coming out as the guards kept the cuffed hands he tried to outstretch in her direction restrained.

Her pointed silence and the clunk of the guards boots filled the room as Azriel was lead toward his space between Cassian and Rhys at the table. Y/N now noting the correlation between the bruises on Azriel’s face and a few scattered on Cassian’s.

Rhys’ voice entered her mind. “Azriel started a fight with Cassian that led to us finding out about he and Elain. When Cassian realized, he went feral on him. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen those two fight like that. By the time Cassian was done with him, I couldn’t in good conscience lay a hand on him.”

“They shouldn’t have fought over this. But I bet you not laying a hand on him though he knew you wanted to hurt his ego more than any punches would have.”

Feyre joined in the mental conversation, adding “He’s just lucky Nesta wasn’t there when they found out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, assuming that Nesta would have remained neutral in the ordeal. Not out of cruelty, but given her love and protective tendencies toward Elain as well as her friendship with Azriel and their Valkyrie training.

Azriel looked to his mate, once again wordlessly mouthing. “Y/N, please.” Finally taking in the crowd before him, he paled further.

“Cat got your tongue, Shadowsinger?” Eris mused. Fury lined Azriel’s features at the smug tone. Rhys only let out a bitter chuckle though he found nothing funny about the predicament they’d found themselves in, his violet gaze narrowed in on his brother. “You found a work around with our bargain by finding your mate outside of the Summer Court, but couldn’t find a work around on the matter of being barred from communicating with her? Just how did you expect this whole plan to work out?” He didn’t wait for a response to the question as he waved to the bargain tattoo. “I rescind the bargain tattoo, you may speak to her for as long as she’ll allow it.”

Azriel paid no mind to Rhys, his chest heaved as he frantically spouted out, “Can we speak in private, my love? Just you and me.”

Eris bristled internally at the pet name but Y/N didn’t falter as she replied “You lost the right to call me that the moment you took another female to bed.”

Elain fidgeted in her seat, eyes downcast. Camila bouncing her murderous gaze back and forth between she and Azriel.

To his credit, Azriel took the blow. This was a bed of his own making and he knew it, they all knew it. There was no sense in trying to deny it.

His mate’s head remained held high as she continued, “By the grace of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, the consequences of your attempted infiltration of this keep have been resigned to your own High Lord.“

Shame flooded Azriel’s face but he let her continue.

“As for me? All I ever wanted was your love and commitment. I gave so many chances and when it finally seemed like you might get it - you’d squandered that opportunity as well. I am before you right now because I want to know why. And because you have not given me a reason to trust you, I have brought this council of individuals who have somehow found themselves so intertwined with our relationship when it should have only been you and me.”

Azriel spat the bitter words before he could stop them from leaving his mouth. “If Eris is not issuing consequence, there is no need for him to be here.”

Despite his exceptional ability to bait, Eris remained silent. A show of respect to the female at the head of his table.

“I was a guest in his keep when you decided to make our separation everybody’s problem and breached the wards.”

Azriel, damn him, couldn’t stop the next hateful words either. “I hardly call emissary business the equivalent of being a guest.”

Eris forwent anger over the blatant disrespect already rolling off of Azriel’s tongue when she didn’t owe him a second of her time, he knew this force of a female by his side well enough by now - biting the inside of his lip to hold back the involuntary smirk creeping its way up to the corners of his mouth as he sensed the words before she spoke them.

“You’re right, Azriel. But I am not here on emissary business, I am here as a personal guest of Eris, who has found himself intertwined in this relationship.” She then looked to her sister “Along with Camila, as they BOTH found themselves putting in considerable time and effort helping piece back together the parts of me that I couldn’t quite place myself. Do you have further question on the members in attendance today that you’d like for me to elaborate on?”

Camila, seated to the other side of Y/N, gave her sister a reassuring squeeze of the hand under the table. Silence once again filling the room, Azriel’s shadows in conjunction with Rhys’ raging darkness rendered him barely visible.

Perhaps her words to her mate were harsh but they were far kinder than the venomous “I’m here on the business of fucking the brains out of the Autumn Court High Lord who, by the way, is just as well endowed and far more bendy than you.” that she wanted to spit back at him.

As if Eris read her thoughts, he loosened the reign on that wicked smirk he’d held back.

“Now that the matter of why we’re all here is settled,” Y/N continued, “I will hear you out, Azriel. If at any point I do not wish to continue this discussion, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?”

Her stoic mate, the revered Spymaster, simpered at the words, giving a slight nod. “Yes.” Eris thought to himself in that moment, heart filled with pride, “She would make a fine High Lady.”

“Great. We have a bargain.” Her fist clenching as the tattoo formed on the back of her neck. “Please proceed.”

Azriel stood, looking to his mate. Crestfallen he began. He held himself in submission to his mate but with enough confidence for her to see that he was sincere in whatever he was about to say.

“Y/N. I love you. I have loved you since before the bond ever snapped. You are - You’re everything. Fuck, I know that what I did was terrible but, it’s not what it seems. You were so good, too good, I didn’t deserve you. I never have. You are everything good and I do nothing but bring pain and hurt to others, and now I’ve done the same to you. Words can never express how sorry I am but… I can at least share what happened.”

He looked to her, praying she’d speak, give any encouragement. Her bright eyes only stared through him, straight into the tattered soul he’d tried so hard to conceal from her.

The table remained silent. Camila biting back a scoff and Elain fidgeting with her dress.

Realizing she wouldn’t speak until he’d told her everything he continued.

He began speaking of how insignificant he’d felt in comparison to her. How he’d buried himself in work, in training with the Valkyries, helping Elain recover. He then pleaded to her, giving recollection of how he’d stopped feeling her through the bond. Giving account for everything leading up to the night he’d slept with Elain.

He recounted how he’d just wanted to get through the night, how he’d chosen to go to dinner instead of staying in, drowning himself in alcohol in an effort to get through the night, how he’d planned to tell Elain that he could no longer spend so much time with her.

It was then that he turned a violent glare to Cassian. “Tell her. Tell her, Cassian.”

Cassian let out a sigh. “Y/N, I am so sorry for the mistake I made. Nes and I, we’d stopped into a new apothecary along the Sidra and found a unique new aphrodisiac. We’d done a parting shot with Azriel and Elain after everyone else had gone out and I -“ his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I accidentally gave the shots we’d mixed the powder into to Elain and Azriel instead of Nes and I. I had no clue until yesterday, we just assumed it was a faulty batch.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled with rage as he picked up where he’d left off. “I went to find Elain afterward, to break things off but the aphrodisiac hit so hard, so fast, and I was so terribly intoxicated. One moment I was trying to speak, the next she was kissing me.” He shook, choking on the next words. “The next morning, I knew I could either tell you, inflicting more pain upon you, or I could carry the pain myself and make sure it never happened again.”

Lucien gritted his teeth at the admission. He’d known they slept together, she’d come straight to him afterward. Choosing to make his best effort to do right by his mate, telling himself that what had happened evened out the playing field between them. Of course it hurt, and hell, he was livid. He found himself fond of the Shadowsinger’s mate, forming a comfortable acquaintanceship with her the few times they’d attended the same events with the Inner Circle. She deserved so much more than a mate that cheated on her.

But Elain was his mate, he needed to at least try with her now that she’d finally shown up. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and had spent the past six months spending what time she deigned to give him with her. He’d hoped at the very least it would keep Azriel away from Elain and with his own mate. He’d felt awful when he heard she’d left.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Azriel’s next words and the corresponding pained gasp from Elain, and the thrumming power of Feyre as she seethed from both embarrassment of the ordeal and the careless words about her sister. “Y/N, Elain means nothing to me. She was a mistake. I don’t care about her beyond the fact that she’s my High Lady’s sister, I don’t love her - I only love you. I only want you. She is nothing.”

Elain clutched her chest, eyes welling with tears as she let out a whisper that may as well have been a damning scream. “But - you’re my mate.”

Time stood still as everyone turned to her in shock. Everyone, except for Rhys whose raging power dimmed momentarily, heads turned from Elain toward him as he let out an incredulous laugh. “You idiot.” Feyre turned toward him. He’d pay for that comment later, though only mildly as she was inclined to think the same of her sister. “That aphrodisiac that you were given, it is designed to imitate the mating frenzy. He’s not your mate, you were just horny.”

Elain turned ghostly, sinking in her chair at the revelation. Y/N felt sympathy for Lucien as she noted his gritted teeth. Apparently whatever she’d told Lucien, she’d left out the important detail that she thought she had another mate.

Camila’s body shook, fighting back laughter, and failing. Her laughter filled the space. “Oh my gods!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t mean to… but this, this is too good.” Her laughter only increased. “How humiliating!”

Even Y/N bit back a smile. Camila never was good at hiding her emotions, laughing in the most unstable of circumstances. And she couldn’t stop. Finally she placed her palms on the table pushing herself up. “I’m so sorry. I’ll excuse myself.” Lucien was next to stand, Elain tightly grasping his wrist. “Lucien” she whispered.

It was Lucien’s turn to let out a small laugh. “I suddenly find that I am not at all intertwined with this mess. Enjoy your mate!” He mused, a saccharine smile forming on his face as he pulled his arm away, catching up to Camila. His footsteps and the distant sound of “My lady” as he extended an arm to her, which she gladly accepted.

Elain stood eyes darting between Azriel and the door. Taking far too long to come to the decision to chase after her actual mate. Her foot moved out, pivoting her toward the doors when Rhysand commanded, “Oh no, you will stay here and finish this discussion.” She gasped looking to Feyre who only gave a solemn nod of solidarity with her mate.

Elain fell back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at Azriel.

As the room once again settled, aside from the roaring heartbeats at the table, Y/N spoke impassively, “If there’s anything else you wish to say, now would be the time, Azriel.”

He stared wide eyed, clearly still blown away by the bullshit with Elain.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I know that what I did was wrong. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never would have slept with her had it not been for the aphrodisiac. I never meant to hurt you. I have so much darkness within me to reckon with, so much that I’m terrified to bring up, so much I never wanted you to see. I need you to understand that. You were never the problem. It was me. It was always me. I can tell you how sorry I am, I can tell you how much I love you, but it won’t matter unless I can show you. Please give me that opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Y/N sat still. Processing all of the details Azriel had given her. She felt his desperation barreling through the bond. Her hands again began shaking under the table without her sister there to steady them. Discreetly, Eris reached his hand to Y/N, the quivering receding at his warm touch.

Azriel’s shadows rose to whisper in his ear, his eyes instantly honing in on where their hands were joined, as if he could see right through the table.

And Y/N didn’t know if it was by a stroke of luck or the absolute lack of it but at that moment, the doors flung open and Nesta. Fucking. Archeron. stormed in.

“You.” She pointed to Azriel. One word. One action. So much damnation behind it.

Rhys’ darkness flared in the presence of his wild card sister-in-law. Cassian merely raised an eyebrow, the slightest upward curve tilting his lips as he took in his mate who could command a room full of power.

She looked over both High Lord’s at the table with an unimpressed sneer before turning that deadly, piercing gaze toward Azriel.

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise at the Valkyrie striding toward him. “What. The. Fuck. Is. This?”

His brows knit and she opened her fist, grasping a chain with two of her fingers to display a dangling necklace.

Azriel’s face paled.

“You know, the strangest thing happened this afternoon. I was talking to my friend, Gwyn. We got to talking about flowers and Elain’s garden. Gwyn began speaking of how she loves roses, clutching at a lovely little pendant around her neck.”

“And I thought to myself, something about this necklace seems so familiar.”

“And then I recalled a solstice not too long ago where my sister came crying to me over a male who had given her a lovely necklace of the same description. How they’d pined for each other, never going further than a brush of the hands. Until the night they almost kissed, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air between them, then pulling back from her and stating ‘this is a mistake’ and leaving.

At the point Rhysand turned to his brother. “You’re fucking joking, Azriel.”

Y/N looked to them beginning to anticipate where this was going.

“When asked who gifted it to her, she stated that Clotho told her it was left for her from an anonymous admirer. So, I went to my friend Clotho, who keeps to her word very well. She’d sworn to the source she wouldn’t tell. But you know, the House of Wind is a sentient entity. Persistently tugging me toward Rhys’ belongings that remain scattered around the house.”

Nesta turned her glare from Azriel to Rhysand. “So, Rhysand, something tells me you know about this.”

Rhys lowered his head with shame hesitating as he searched for the right words.

“Y/N…. I’m so sorry. A couple of years ago, on Solstice, I caught Azriel placing a necklace on Elain.” He looked to Elain and then back at Azriel again. “I monitored the situation, hoping I was wrong, but as their lips were moments away from touching, I used my daemati abilities and summoned Azriel to my study. I truly thought whatever happened was over between them as the tension between the two seemingly faded in my presence. Until yesterday, when we found out about he and Elain sleeping together.”

Cassian glared to his brother with rage, “You gave a necklace meant for Elain to Gwyn?”

“She wasn’t supposed to know.”

Before he could dig the hole further, Elain whispered, those doe eyes peering at Azriel through her lashes, “So, you didn’t really think it was a mistake?”

Feyre broke her silence letting out an audible groan of exasperation. And Azriel broke his own silence,

“It WAS a mistake, Elain. All of it. Rhys tried to stop it. I should have listened. You were a mistake.”

Elain gasped, tears lining her eyes. And if looks could have killed, the glare Nesta gave Azriel would have ended him on the spot. But it was Elain who made the mistake of reading her sister’s rage toward Azriel as sympathy toward herself, leaning into her sister, turning her head into her side to catch her dramatized tears.

“No, Elain. I am so disappointed in you. You were completely wrecked when Graysen left you and you were only engaged. Imagine the pain Y/N felt losing her MATE.”

Eris who had been taking in the cluster fuck surrounding them mused, looking toward the door Lucien had earlier exited, “Oh, I don’t think she’ll have to imagine much.” Earning a laugh disguised as a cough from Cassian, another sigh from Feyre, and a scowl from Nesta as she chose to ignore the barb - looking again to Azriel, “You have a lot of amends to make.”

She looked to Elain, “You do too.”

With that she grabbed Elain by the arm and drug her out of the room. With a wave over her arm and a shout of, “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been through, Y/N!”

Y/N took a breath as the room regained its composure, the tension again thickening. “Is there anything else, or are you done making excuses, Azriel?”

“They’re not excuses. Y/N. I love you. I was wrong. It’s always been you.”

“I’m tired.” She spoke softly. And it was the truth.

“I spent so much time waiting for you. Praying that one day it would all become ‘right’ again. I dreamed that you’d come walking through the door, and remind me what it was like to feel your love. My Azriel, my mate, all I wanted was you.

But, this, Azriel. You are not the male I fell in love with. And I think… I think the most heartbreaking part of that is that what I loved most was those dark depths of your soul that you tried so hard to hide. You were never a monster, you were always worth loving. You wouldn’t have broken me. Shutting me out is what broke me. And I told you that, so many times, in so many ways. But you never listened.

And the reason you couldn’t feel me through the bond? The further you pulled away, the more I closed it off from my end. I hoped that it would give you time to work through whatever it was you were facing and refused to share despite my pleas. Until I eventually grew so numb that I just shut it down completely. A courtesy you never once extended to me during my time away. Do you know how hard it was to recover after I left? I felt your guilt and rage barreling through me at all hours.

And you fucking Elain? Nobody but you and Elain are responsible for your actions. Cassian is not your excuse. You chose to go that night, you chose to drink all evening, you chose to wait until that night to tell her you wouldn’t be spending time with her like you had been. You had the entire week away and chose to wait until the last minute.

The affair started long before then. I think we can agree that despite your cold treatment of her before me today, that you two were engaged in an emotional affair long before you ever went to bed with her.”

She reached into her pocket pulling out a piece of parchment.

“And then, you attempted to court Gwyn in my absence - which, fair, because I’m the one who left. She really is a lovely female. Although, I hear it didn’t quite work in your favor.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide in panic. “The necklace didn’t-“

She laughed. “I’ll save you time and effort of your excuses, Azriel. Gwyn may not have known the necklace was from you but she did extend the courtesy of writing to me and I was rather surprised by the details of the demise of our relationship that didn’t quite line up - specifically the cheating aspect.”

She placed her hands on the table, looking her mate directly in the eyes. “I made my decision long before your attempt to break into this Keep, before the truths were unveiled today. I appreciate everyone for coming but I have heard enough. I ask that you leave now, Azriel.”

Tears filled his eyes. “Wait! Please, Y/N.” His brothers began to pull him away but Azriel fell to his knees.

“Please, baby.” He begged. “Just come home.”

She stared at the pleading male before her. A pang of sympathy for her broken mate ran through her. She wasn’t cruel and sympathy was not a weakness. This was her choice to make and nobody would blame her if she went back to her mate.

“Come home, please.”

Holding her head high, she stepped around her chair.

Eris sat expressionless, carefully avoiding any inclination of the devastation he’d feel if she chose to leave. He would support her either way.

Azriel remained focused on her every movement, his erratic breathing the only sound cutting through the tension of the room.

She took a step, and one more, before halting. Gently taking the hand of the red-headed male beside her whose eyes lined with silver as he looked up to her.

“I am home.”

EPILOGUE

The time he showed up:

Lucien suffered when his bond with Elain was severed. She did not agree to breaking the bond which left slim to no opportunity to move forward with the breaking of it. After months of intense research, Helion was able to find a tricky workaround that did not require both parties to be present. It was incredibly painful due to the negative effects being concentrated to one individual instead of split between two but fortunately not lethal.

Eris never pushed me to sever my bond with Azriel but as time went on it felt important to put that part of my life behind me. I’d extended the courtesy of writing to Azriel regarding my intention to sever it, informing him that I would be going through with the incantation that Helion had conjured. He did not reply but I knew he received the letter based on the muted feelings of grief that seeped through crevices of the walls I had placed against his end of the bond for several days afterward.

Eris traveled to the Day Court with me, having decided nobody could aid in my recovery better than he. To my shock, upon arriving, Azriel was there. Demurely, he stated that it was only right for him to share the weight of this burden. I was inclined to agree but only thanked him for showing up. He bristled at the sight of Eris but the males said nothing to eachother and we went our separate ways until Helion was ready for us. With Azriel’s presence and the pain being shared, the physical recovery on both of our ends was expedited and manageable for both of us.

We were both held in separate suites to recover until Helion gave the all-clear to leave. When the pain became less debilitating, I decided to take a stroll through an exterior walkway, soaking in the sun while Eris bathed. Apparently Azriel had the same idea as I turned a corner to find him sunning his wings, head hung low.

Right as I made to pivot, his head whipped in my direction, eyes locking with mine. Even without the bond I could easily read the pain in his eyes, the grief that surrounded him. His shadows fought to come to me but he kept a tight reign on them. His breathing was rapid, his eyes fighting to turn away but his gaze lingered.

He opened his mouth to speak, a weak sound escaping his lips before he clamped his mouth shut, jaw tensing.

I kept my gaze soft, maintaining eye contact for another moment but he didn’t try to speak again. With that, I walked away and we did not encounter eachother again during the stay.

It was later I realized that he likely wanted to say something, anything, but there was nothing left to speak between us.

The sister-in-law:

After recovering fully from the severance of his bond, Lucien cryptically invited Eris and I to a lakeside home in the Day Court.

“Dress for merriment.” His only details.

Upon arriving, we found a couple of beloved faces from my life, along with Feyre, Helion, The former lady of Autumn (now the lady of Day), Jurian, Vassa, and even Tamlin at the home. We were all escorted to the grounds where an absolutely beaming Lucien stood at an altar beside the most radiant female I’d ever seen.

That was the day my sister became also my sister-in-law. It’s a very strange thing to say aloud but makes sense if you think about it.

The first heir:

Eris cried the day our son was born. Not from the relief of having an heir, not from any upset due to the child being male, certainly not from any disappointment of being a father.

The birth was as smooth as one can be, he held my hand throughout, praising me, and whispering words of love. He didn’t even mind the curses I threw his way as I pushed. He only let go of my hand once the babe was carefully handed to me by the midwife, allowing me those first precious moments to cradle our little flame to my chest and relish in the life our love had created.

Eris cried when that tiny babe was finally passed into his arms and the little red-haired beauty grasped his finger. That touch immediately tethering a connection straight from the child in his arms delicate soul to Eris’ heart, the heart that once beat beneath layers of armor now laid bare before his son.

Never would this child know pain at his fathers hand. Never would he limit the love he could show for fear of being seen as weak. And never, ever would he question his fathers love for him.

The coronation

Azriel

Sitting here lonely at a table for two, watching lovers being lovers

Azriel sat shrouded in shadow in a quiet corner of the decorated throne room. Happy chatter rang throughout the room as attendees anxiously awaited the crowning of the High Lady of the Autumn Court.

Feyre and Rhys; Cassian and Nesta; Helion and the former Lady of Autumn; Emerie and Mor; Tamlin and his new wife, Briar; Lucien and Camila; and even Gwyn and Tarquin sat cozied up in pairs throughout the crowded throne room. Nyx had seated himself next to his best friend Alex, Camila and Lucien’s son.

From what Azriel had heard Lucien treated Alex as his own from the moment he met him, adopting the boy immediately after he and Camila married. He seemed to be a fine young man and a positive influence on Nyx, who kept Rhys and Feyre on their toes these days. Perhaps karmic justice for the hell Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian put Rhys’ mother through in their youth.

Three little girls ran through the room, two with vibrant red-hair, tan skin and freckled golden cheeks; one with dark hair, fair skin, and her mothers eyes; their giggling rang out above the chatter filling the room as an older child, a boy of eleven years old - Azriel still remembered the day the announcement arrived to the Night Court of the birth of the first Autumn Court heir - walked in a straight backed, lordly posturing behind them, a crease forming between his brows as he focused intently on his little sisters.

The boys long strides kept up with his little sisters as he reminded them to mind their paces. Lost in their merriment, the girls ignored his warnings until the boy finally let out an exasperated sigh. Stopping for a moment with his arms crossed, he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, murmuring gods knows what frustrated curses. Knowing his mother, it was not the typical frustrated language of a child.

Azriel gave a small, sad smile at the memories elicited.

When the boy looked up, the girls had disappeared from his sight. He grew frantic for a moment until his Uncle Lucien walked up to him, pointing to his wife and the three girls pressing kisses and talking animatedly to her round, very pregnant belly. The boy gave his uncle a smile, shoulders sagging in relief. Lucien bowed down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The boy took his hand and walked back toward Camila and the sisters.

Azriel placed a hand to his chest at the wave of grief that rang through him. The mating bond may have been severed but he never could get over the love that he squandered. The family that could have been his.

“You don’t have to be here, brother.” Rhysand’s voice invaded his mind.

Azriel swallowed, willing his thoughts to a tone of neutrality. “She’s the High Lady of the Autumn Court, we’re immortal, we will have to be comfortable in spaces together. It comes with the territory.”

I miss you. Without you I just don’t fit in.

He didn’t have to say what his brother already knew. That yes, he was broken when she left. Broken further when she confirmed he was no longer her home. He’d hated himself for what he’d done, for what he put her through. For a long time, he’d been a shell of the shell of himself that he’d already become. Eventually, he’d taken to seeing one of the counselors in the House of Wind’s library. He was too far gone at that point to consider such an option but Rhys had coordinated with the priestesses and mandated it. Either he got help or lost his position in the Night Court.

Even after the countless hours of counseling sessions he’d attended over the years, that “savior complex” of his remained. Seeing Y/N thriving with someone else was fucking hard but not as hard as living in a world where he never looked upon her face again. As she assumed the title of High Lady, a target would lay on her back, just as one was on any other High Lord or High Lady’s back. He’d never forgive himself if his stubborn pride kept him from attending any court events she attended and something happened to his own High Lord or Lady… or if something happened to her.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find another you.

So here he was, alone at a table, in a now quiet throne room, watching the love of his life step out onto the dais in all of her resplendent glory, kneeling down before the male she loved. Eris’ eyes lined with silver as her own lifted to meet his gaze, her chin held high as she awaited his next move. Carefully, he lifted the emerald and ruby crested crown, with one large diamond centered between two golden leaves, off of the plush pillow it sat upon. Eris’ previous words rang true through Azriel’s head “Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.” The people of this court were truly fortunate to be under the rule of such a resilient and kind ruler. The shining diamond of Autumn. She would love them deeply and do right by them in a way so few leaders were capable of.

Azriel couldn’t contain the pride that welled up in his chest, tears threatening to spill over his thick lashes as the crown was placed upon her head. And yet it was Eris who looked at her like she was the very air that he breathed, as if nothing existed in that moment but the female at his fingertips, like the only reason he himself was brought into existence was to find and cherish her for eternity. And despite his disdain for Eris Vanserra, Azriel finally understood that this was where she belonged.

Everybody’s got somebody but me.

————————————-

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series! I loved writing it and I hope you are pleased with the ending. Some may ask, “What about Elain?” and to that I say, “What about her?” I find great satisfaction in the fact that she didn’t get either male, was embarrassed in front of the IC, and became so irrelevant that she was barely mentioned in the epilogue (aside from Lucien breaking the bond). Clearly, she’s still bitter considering she refused to sever the bond with him but he still found a way out (albeit painfully) and got his dream girl! Stay mad, Elain.

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@angiedsv

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caitlynssweetheart · 2 days ago

Text

001. RAINY SUMMERS 〃✦ ┆ E.W

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ꔫ PARING: childhood friends ellie x reader

WORDCOUNT: 1313

ꔫ WARNINGS: homophobia⁠, Family conflict and forced separation⁠?,medical emergency/car accident⁠⁠, religous talk

ꔫ SYNOPSIS: Ellie Williams was your childhood friend, but you haven't spoken to her in years. Your parents convinced you that she was a bad influence, and following their wishes, you were made to stop speaking to her and move away. Now working at a hospital, you hadn't thought about Ellie for a long time. Recently though, she's been on your mind, and you've found yourself wondering what happened to her after syou moved away.

A/N: This is my first fic in a long time i hope you guys enjoy it♡

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The rain was coming down in sheets, but that didn't stop Ellie and you from dashing out into the yard, shrieking and laughing as the water soaked through your clothes. The two of you had been spending a lot of time together lately. Her smile was radiant as her hair soaked through and stuck to her shoulders. She made you feel things you hadn't expected, your hands intertwined as she pulled you toward the tree where you both always played. She kept hold of your hand.

The raindrops created a gentle rhythm on the leaves above, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. Ellie's hand was warm in yours despite the cool rain, and when she turned to look at you, her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and something else you couldn't quite name. The way she squeezed your hand made your heart skip a beat.

"Remember when we used to climb this tree?" she asked, running her free hand along the bark. "We'd sit up there for hours, telling stories and making plans."

You nodded, remembering all those summer afternoons spent in the branches, your legs dangling, sharing secrets that felt too big for your young hearts. Now, standing here in the rain, those memories felt both distant and incredibly close, like pages from a beloved book you'd read too many times to count.

"We should do it now," Ellie suggested suddenly, her grin widening. "Climb up, just like we used to. Who cares if we're soaked?"

Before you could respond, she was already pulling you toward the lowest branch, her laughter mixing with the sound of rain, creating a melody that would echo in your memories for years to come.

You wake up, sitting at the edge of the bed. Another dream, haunting you still till this day. Your heart ached at the thought of her. Even if it was years ago. Till this day is your biggest regret, that you just vanished from her. That was the day your mother had caught the two of you being like that. She hated Ellie, no matter what. You could never understand why, she wasn’t really like other girls at school. The way she dressed was quite… diffrent. But you always had your dad who defended you and said that you were only kids. While your mom was not approving of the two of you being together but since she didn't want to argue with your father. She let you two be. But this day… When you got back inside she was already standing watching the two of you.

Once you and Ellie got inside, your mother's voice cut through the air like ice. "Ellie, I think it's time for you to go home." The way she said Ellie's name made your stomach turn. Ellie looked at you, confusion and hurt flickering across her face, but she nodded politely.

"Yes, ma’am" she said quietly, wringing water from her shirt. You wanted to say something, to stop her from leaving, but the words caught in your throat under your mother's stern gaze.

That night, your mother sat you down for "the talk." She spoke about reputation, about what was proper and that two girls being so close is not normal, about how people would talk. "We're moving to your aunt's place in Seattle," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Your father's company has an opening there, and it's for the best."

You never got to say goodbye properly. Your mother made sure of that, keeping you busy with packing and preparations. The few times Ellie came by, your mother told her you were too busy to see anyone. You watched from your window as she stood at your front gate, waiting, hoping, until finally turning away.

The memory shifts to your last glimpse of her through the car's back window - standing on her porch, watching your family drive away. You had slipped a letter into her mailbox the night before, trying to explain, promising to write, to call. But your mother made sure those promises remained unfulfilled, monitoring your phone calls, checking your mail.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

Now, sitting on your bed, what felt like decades later, you wonder if she still lives in that old house, if she still thinks about that rainy summer day. You've typed her name into search engines more times than you can count, but you've never had the courage to press enter. Some wounds, you've learned, don't heal - they just become part of who you are, like the sound of rain on leaves and the memory of a warm hand in yours.

Even though she never knew your feelings - those deep, overwhelming emotions that went far beyond friendship - you felt like you were drowning in unspoken words. You wished you could have told her how your heart raced whenever she smiled, how her laugh made everything brighter, but fear held you back. The risk of losing even the memory of what you had seemed too great.

As the years passed, you found yourself drifting further from your parents' carefully laid path. Their religious convictions, once a fortress of certainty, began to feel like prison walls. You went through the motions - attending services, reciting prayers - but each word felt hollow, each gesture empty. The god they believed in seemed deaf to your pain, blind to your truth.

Every night, you would lie awake, wondering if somewhere out there, Ellie was doing the same. If she ever questioned why you disappeared, if she understood the weight of all the things left unsaid. The silence between you grew into a chasm too wide to cross, filled with prayers that never reached heaven and truths that never found voice.

With a sigh, you pushed these thoughts aside. A last-minute schedule change had redirected you from your usual fifth floor duties to the emergency room today.

As you arrived on the floor, you were immediately met with a chaotic scene of injured patients scattered throughout the area. It quickly became clear that there had been an accident, and the ER staff was doing their best to treat the victims. You paused for a moment, taking in the overwhelming scene, before continuing on to begin your shift. As you made your way through the room, you noticed the lady in lavender-colored scrubs, whom you nodded at in recognition, she came up to you "Car accident, a whole group of people, the drunk driver was already died when he arrived here" Your head kept nodding taking in the information you were given. You started helping around, tending to the patients as best as you could. Amidst the chaos, you noticed one patient in particular. She was unconscious, with a head wound that was being hastily bandaged by a frantic nurse. A sense of dread washed over you as you recognized the features of your once best friend, Ellie.

Your heart stopped. Time seemed to freeze as you stood there, unable to move, watching as other medical staff rushed around her. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you - after years of deliberately staying away, here she was, right in front of you, needing your help. Your medical training kicked in, pushing aside the emotional turmoil, and you stepped forward to assist. As you approached her bed, you noticed how different she looked - her hair was shorter now, a warm auburn color, but her face was still the same one that had haunted your dreams for years.

"BP's dropping!" someone called out, snapping you back to reality. You jumped into action, your hands steady despite the trembling in your heart. Working alongside your colleagues, you helped stabilize her condition, all while trying to maintain your professional composure. But inside, your mind was racing with memories of shared laughter, secret conversations, and all the words you never had the courage to say.

taglist: @liasxeatt @chaengluva @junipertried @bready101 @pornoangelz @xeneasworld @ellensmithxo @xxannyxx @lovelookspretty @vahnilla @lina222eidolonl @fairylesbean @rxreaqia @feralshaunalvr @minnimoon @ilovewomen4lot @iheartclairo66 @abbyswh0r3 @mxquelo @kaykeryyy @badbye777 @mimasroom2 (some i couldn’t tag sorry)

#lesbian #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #series #princess 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔. ˚. ᵎᵎ🪷#ellie williams x reader

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sugaryplum · 1 month ago

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LENKA'S ULTIMATE FICS HALL OF FAME ༉‧₊˚.

i’ve been reading fics on tumblr for a whileeeee. many years. i went through many phases, celebrity crushes, fictional crushes and obviously, fics related to them. only some stuck with me through all this time and well, here there are!!

what’s important, i’ve done this type of post before only with theodore nott in mind. i was asked by anon to recommend some more so here you can find him, as well as many different characters across many films, books, tv shows, genres. i lowkey recommend reading most of them honestly, even if you don’t know the characters. some are just in alternate universes so the name or context of the character doesn’t really matter :)

i’m picky and particular with fics so i promise these are best of the best 🤍 well written, in character, super cute all that. and like 80 percent is fluff

SO have a lovely time reading!! let’s start

(if i tagged a character and there's no section for them, they're for sure down at the bottom in "misc" – with poe dameron, regulus black, scorpius malfoy, jake peralta and some more <3)

spencer reid

i love baby steps by @sinfulspencer !!!!! i love domestic spencer

also can't let go by the same author i remember being lovely

fluffy cute ass blurb by @tinyluvs

asleep spence by @in-another-april <3

i looooveee @radiant-reid ! for example this little fic

and this omg

oh and these season 7/8 headcanons!!

theodore nott

i might accidentally repeat myself from my theo recs post, sorry:( most of them should be new recs though

speaking of repeating myself, first i'd like to repeat myself on purpose. if @artytaeh has no fans i am dead, i swear to goddd. i stand by what i said last time. best characterisation of theo, everything seems like it's made with so much care, no misses in the masterlist. read it alllllll

i mentioned veryberryjelly in my last theo recs too. here are some more of my favourites :) this and also this i ordered hehe. also i don't remember if last time i linked blair witch or tangled in lights so here you get them both

little dragon by @retrobutterflies super so very sweet

i remember the cat chronicles by @obsessedwithcelesteare being very cute 🌟 i love theo + cats combo always

like a moth to a flame by @julesinsummer angsty!!!!! but so good

honestly i'm pretty sure i talked about it in theo recs already but in case i haven't you need to read this by @agirlsguidetolove

i remember loving fools by @luv4freddie !!! cute

this by @darkmagic-s was super silly and fun i love silly and fun things yayay

i for sure i talked about @cassiopeiasdaughter but did i talk about mirrorball specifically? i requested this and i loooveee it

this unhinged smut by @theostrophywife i love i stan

also silly little smut hcs by @sucka4thepuss hehe, most of them i agree i love em

😣😣😣<3😣

alright done with this smut section just this too let me link

cute and silly reminders of marriage thing by

@wordsarelife made this cute thing that lol im like 70% sure i may have requested???? and the ask looks like something i would ask for hehe

@suugarbabe makes really good stuff :)

cedric diggory

golden by @sapphicwhxre (love the username btw) might be my favourite cedric fic? first date cedric loooooveee

plain sight by @softboyluvr too oh my god! love this as a scenario

rainy summers as well as just you by @mirclealignr i think im just all for pure cedric diggory fluff (well written too!)

godsend by @pariahsparadise with sick reader super very sweet

@mistress-riddle made this lovely thing (and she's also btw soooooooo unbelievebly great with tom riddle fics if thats your cup of tea, i love all of them)

ced yule ball hcs by @styleswithaseaview are so sweet and there are also lovely petnames ones by the same author <3

cuuuute girldad!ced called pigtails by @mayabooowrites

post hogwarts cedric just so so so sweet by @iliveiloveiwrite, here's lighthearted domesticity

misc (all the other characters)

there's a bunch of my phases passed a long long time ago but some fics are just waaay too good to not keep rereading and recommending them. i think they're all pretty universal and can be imagined with anyone as the main love interest so please read them even if you don't know the character. and DON'T judge me ;(((( for the characters !!! i'm exposing myself enough. these were found by young me from a long while ago

this by @wizkiddx is the sweetest ever tom holland blurb about how he's a clumsy mess trying to measure reader's ring size while she's asleep

i think destined by @thirst-refinery is the cutest soulmate au made, even though i don't think the story was ever finished? but i love it still and honestly i am very not ashamed to be in love with poe dameron

black leader shutting up by @starryeyedstories also greattttt poe dameron fic

clingy fluffy sugary sweet scorpius malfoy in dinner by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms <3

🤎🤎 regulus black bunch :) here and here as well as here and here

....or maybe i just love timothee chalamet? like here and also here and definitely here

out of my hamilton phase a few years ago came out my love for this fic which might be one of my favourites ever, i legit have this text copied to my notes just in case it ever gets deleted

my alex turner moment was brief but so fun

OH AND this long jake peralta fic by @ongaku-ato-kakikomi is oh my god SOOO much fun please read it

also another poe dameron fic, this one is so good, by @absolutelyfizzing, kind of angsty also!!!!

DALI ON TUESDAY charlie dalton fic by @rostovs-loveralso one of my favourite things on this whole app. love love love love

YAY THATS ALL. this took so long. you've got my whole collection now. all of the all time favourites and more. love love you, hope you love reading them as much as i did<3🌜🌟👼 night night

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #regulus black #scorpius malfoy #jake peralta #poe dameron #lenka’s recs #fic recs #timothee chalamet #tom holland

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millyh23 · 4 months ago

Text

Based on this request

Growing pains

Emily Fox x Reader

Word count: 3k

A/N : I tried my best to do it justice and got a little carried away my vape also died on me so I cannot be held responsible for how this flows. It is abit choppy I might come back and edit it one day 🤞

_________________________________________________

The campus buzzed with life as students rushed between classes, the air thick with the scent of autumn leaves and fresh coffee. You found yourself sitting in the corner of the bustling café on campus, a favorite spot for many. It was here that you first met Emily Fox.

You had heard of her—an up-and-coming star in women’s football, her talent already drawing attention. But it was her infectious smile and genuine personality that captivated you as she sat at a corner table, sketching out plays in her notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hey, are you always this focused, or is it just that impressive?” you joked, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up, surprise morphing into a radiant smile that lit up her face.

“Thanks! Just trying to figure out my game plan,” she replied, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “I’m Emily.”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself, feeling an instant connection.

From that moment, you spent more time together, shared late-night study sessions, and discovered a rhythm that felt natural. Emily was vibrant and passionate about football, and you admired her determination to succeed on and off the pitch. You often joked that she was destined for greatness.

One evening, as you walked through the campus under the stars, you turned to her, heart racing. “Do you think we’re growing apart?”

Emily paused, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… with everything you have going on, I just feel like I’m losing you,” you admitted, vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Hey, you’re not losing me. I promise,” she assured you, her eyes locking onto yours with sincerity. “I want you to be part of this journey.”

With those words, you felt a surge of hope, believing that love could conquer all challenges.

As the months rolled on, Emily’s dedication to football intensified. She spent hours training, attending team practices, and preparing for matches that could determine her future. Each time she came back to you, excitement radiating from her, but you noticed the subtle shifts in her demeanor.

One afternoon, you found her sitting on the floor of her dorm, surrounded by scattered gear, energy bars, and notes about her upcoming matches. “I got selected for the national team camp!” she exclaimed, eyes sparkling with ambition.

“That’s amazing!” you replied, trying to mask the twinge of envy that crept in. “When do you leave?”

“In two weeks,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “I have to practice every day.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for her but also a gnawing worry that she was slipping away. The more she succeeded, the more you felt like a bystander in her life.

“Emily, can we talk?” you asked one evening, your voice shaky as you sat across from her at a small table in the café.

“Of course! What’s on your mind?” she replied, her attention focused on you, but you could see the tension lurking in her smile.

“I feel like you’re so focused on your football that I’m becoming background noise,” you confessed, your heart pounding. “I want to support you, but I also need to feel like I matter.”

Her expression shifted, surprise and guilt washing over her. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry; I’m just so caught up in everything. I promise I’ll make more time for us.”

You nodded, hoping she meant it, but as the days passed, the distance between you began to widen. You found yourself waiting for her texts, counting the minutes until she could squeeze you into her busy schedule.

The breaking point came one rainy afternoon. You were both sitting in her dorm, drenched from the downpour outside, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words.

“Emily, this isn’t working,” you finally said, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I feel like I’m fighting for your attention, and it’s exhausting.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m trying! You have to understand how important this is to me!”

“I do understand, but you’re losing sight of us!” you shouted, the words escaping before you could stop them. Silence enveloped the room, the tension palpable.

“Maybe we just need a break,” Emily suggested hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The suggestion stung, but you felt the truth behind it. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t want to hold you back.”

As the words hung in the air, you both knew it was the beginning of the end. You parted ways that day, hearts heavy with the weight of what could have been.

The following months were a blur of loneliness and heartache. Emily threw herself into her training, while you drowned in studies and late nights, each passing day a reminder of what you once had.

Friends encouraged you to move on, but the memories lingered, haunting your thoughts. You often found yourself at the café where you first met, nursing a cup of coffee, listening to other athletes talk about their dreams. Each story reminded you of Emily, the way she would light up when discussing her passion for football.

One night, as you sat alone, a familiar melody caught your attention. The sound of a sports broadcast filled the café, and you looked up to see highlights of Emily’s matches playing on the screen. She was a force on the field, her talent undeniable, and you felt a mix of pride and sorrow.

In that moment, you realized that while she was thriving, the emptiness inside you grew. You threw yourself into your own passions, each small victory a bittersweet reminder of what could have been. Yet, deep down, you both felt the pull of what you had shared, the love that still lingered beneath the surface.

Eventually, fate brought you back together, the spark still igniting the air between you. The years of heartbreak and longing had transformed into a deeper understanding of each other. Emily’s eyes held a new light, one that spoke of lessons learned and experiences gained.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice soft yet steady. “I’ve learned so much about myself… and us.”

“Me too,” you replied, heart racing as you stepped closer, the distance between you feeling both familiar and foreign. “Maybe we can find a way to make this work, this time.”

As the days turned into weeks, you found your rhythm again, but the fear of losing each other loomed like a shadow over your budding connection. Just when things seemed to be stabilizing, Emily received a major national team call-up.

The news sent shockwaves through your relationship, igniting a whirlwind of emotions.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” she exclaimed one afternoon, excitement radiating from her. “I’ve been selected to train with the national team! This could be my chance to play in the World Cup!”

“That’s incredible, Em!” you replied, masking the anxiety that bubbled beneath the surface. “When do you leave?”

“They want me to start training in two weeks,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted!”

You felt a lump in your throat. “What about us?” you asked, fear creeping into your voice. “You know how hard it was to be apart before. Do you really think we can handle that again?”

Emily’s face fell, the joy of the opportunity overshadowed by the weight of your words. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her eyes wide with concern. “But I can’t turn this down. It’s my dream.”

You felt a mix of pride and dread. On one hand, you were thrilled about her success, but on the other, the thought of losing her again felt suffocating. “I want you to chase your dreams, Em. But what about us? What if this opportunity takes you away for good?”

The tension hung between you like a heavy fog, and you both knew that the stakes were high. You could see the internal struggle reflected in her eyes—a fierce desire for her dreams clashing with the love she felt for you.

“I’ve worked so hard to get here,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I don’t want to lose you either.”

In that moment, you both stood at a crossroads, the weight of your love and her ambition pressing down on you. It was a painful reminder that sometimes, love wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between two people with their own dreams.

As the decision day approached, the air between you felt charged with unspoken words and emotions. You both had been trying to navigate this new reality, but the tension was palpable. You caught glimpses of Emily’s excitement, but the shadows of doubt loomed larger.

One night, you found yourselves sitting on her bed, the room dimly lit by fairy lights. Emily was scrolling through her phone, showing you images from her recent matches, her face alight with enthusiasm.

“Look at this crowd!” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe how far I’ve come.”

“I’m so proud of you,” you replied, forcing a smile as your heart tightened. “But… do you think you’ll have time for us if this all takes off?”

The question hung in the air, a fragile thread that threatened to snap at any moment. Emily’s smile faltered, and she looked away, her expression shifting. “I want to make time for us, but… I don’t know how. Everything is happening so fast.”

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “I just don’t want to be the one holding you back. Your dreams matter, and I want you to chase them.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed your hand tightly, as if anchoring herself to you. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re such a huge part of my life, but I’m terrified of what this could mean for us.”

Her vulnerability struck a chord deep within you. You could see the conflict in her eyes—the desire to succeed battling against the fear of losing the one person who had always supported her.

“Maybe we can find a way to make it work,” you suggested hesitantly. “I can support you, and we can communicate more. We can figure it out together.”

“Can we?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

As the days turned into a blur of training sessions and late-night calls, you both attempted to navigate the emotional landscape of your relationship. Each time Emily shared her excitement about the national team, you felt an ache in your chest—a mix of pride and fear for the future.

One evening, you attended a small match where Emily was playing. The venue was packed, and the energy was electric. As she took the field, you felt a rush of excitement and admiration. She was in her element, pouring her heart into every play.

Yet, as you watched her from the stands, a familiar pang of insecurity settled in. Surrounded by adoring fans, you couldn’t help but wonder if she would forget about you in the whirlwind of her rising fame.

After the game, as you both stepped outside into the cool night air, the weight of unspoken words hung between you.

“Did you see the way they reacted?” she said, her eyes bright with exhilaration. “I feel alive out there!”

“I saw,” you replied, forcing a smile. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you! I really want to keep doing this,” she said, her voice filled with passion. But as she spoke about her future, you felt a sense of dread creeping in.

“Em, what happens if you get too busy? If you’re away for games, will you even have time for us?” you asked, your voice trembling.

She looked taken aback, the excitement fading from her expression. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I just want to enjoy this moment.”

The confrontation hung in the air, the joy of her success now marred by the fear of losing connection. You both stood at the intersection of love and ambition, struggling to find a path forward that wouldn’t tear you apart.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension only grew as Emily’s schedule became increasingly demanding. Late-night practices, meetings with coaches, and promotional events filled her calendar, leaving little room for your relationship.

You found yourself alone more often than not, scrolling through your phone, staring at the pictures of the two of you—smiles frozen in time, memories that felt like distant echoes. You missed her laughter, her warmth, and the simple moments you once shared.

One evening, you decided to surprise her at the training facility, hoping to rekindle the spark that felt dimmed. As you entered, the sound of whistles and chatter filled the air, but it wasn’t the same. This time, she was working, focused and driven, surrounded by teammates and coaches who spoke in jargon that made your head spin.

“Hey, Em!” you called out, stepping into the field with a hopeful smile.

“Y/n!” she exclaimed, her face brightening momentarily before shifting back to business. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’m in the middle of this drill—can I catch you in a bit?”

Your heart sank at the sight of her so engrossed in her work. “Sure,” you replied, forcing a smile. But as you stood there, watching her chase her dreams, a wave of sadness washed over you.

Time slipped away as you waited, the excitement fading into uncertainty. You felt like a ghost in her world, a shadow flickering at the edges of her bright future. When she finally finished, she rushed over, her hair tousled and eyes shining.

“I’m sorry! Practice ran longer than I thought,” she said, her voice laced with guilt. “I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“I understand,” you replied, trying to sound supportive. But the worry gnawed at you. “It’s just… I miss you, Em. I miss us.”

Her expression softened, and she took your hands in hers. “I miss you too. It’s just so overwhelming right now. I want to make this work, but everything is moving so fast.”

You both knew that love and ambition could coexist, but the reality of balancing both felt daunting. The thought of losing her to her dreams terrified you, yet the idea of holding her back felt equally unbearable.

As the deadline for her decision loomed closer, the pressure mounted. You both spent nights discussing the possibilities, weighing the pros and cons of her taking the national team spot.

“I want you to have this,” you said one night as you sat on the floor of her dorm, surrounded by her football gear. “But I also don’t want to lose you in the process.”

Emily looked at you, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “What if I take this deal and it works out? But what if it doesn’t? What if I leave and realize I made a mistake?”

“That’s the risk we take,” you replied, your heart aching. “But I want you to pursue your dreams. Just know that I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air. It was a bittersweet acknowledgment of the reality you both faced—a love that could either flourish or falter in the face of ambition.

The day of the decision arrived, and the tension was palpable. You both knew that whatever she chose would shape the course of your relationship.

As you sat together, Emily’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the couch, her expression a mix of fear and determination. “I don’t want to let you go,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have to let me go,” you replied, your heart racing. “But you need to chase your dreams. You owe it to yourself.”

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you. “I love you, Y/n. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

“And I always will,” you promised, your voice steady. “But I need you to believe in us too. We can find a way to make this work, even if it’s hard.”

Emily took a deep breath, her eyes shining with hope. “Okay. I’ll take the spot,” she said, her voice filled with resolve. “But I won’t let it come between us. I’ll make time for us, no matter what.”

In that moment, you both understood that love and ambition could coexist. It wouldn’t be easy, but with communication and trust, you could navigate the challenges together.

As you wrapped your arms around her, the weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a shared commitment to face whatever came next.

With newfound maturity, you both took a leap of faith, ready to embrace the messiness of love and life together. You began to communicate more openly, sharing your fears and dreams in a way you never had before.

“I want to support your career, but I also need to feel like I’m important in your life,” you said one evening as you sat on a park bench, watching the sunset.

“I promise, I’ll make time for us,” Emily replied, her hand finding yours. “I’ve learned that balance is key.”

As the weeks turned into months, you both navigated the complexities of your relationship, learning to trust one another and communicate openly. The journey of growing up was never easy, but with each step forward, you discovered that love, in all its complexities, was worth fighting for.

As graduation approached, both of you stood on the precipice of new beginnings. Emily was poised to embark on her football career while you prepared for a future that seemed brighter than ever.

“I can’t believe we made it this far,” you said one night, sitting on the roof of her dorm, the stars twinkling above like a promise of hope.

“We did it together,” she replied, leaning into you, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.

With a newfound understanding of love and ambition, you both faced the future with open hearts, ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead.

“Whatever happens, I want you by my side,” Emily said, her gaze steady and filled with determination.

“Always,” you promised, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and the promise of forever.

_________________________________________________

The End.

#emily fox #emily fox x reader #offside story #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso soccer

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baby-yongbok · 23 days ago

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Eclipse

Lee Know x afab!reader

☾ ˚｡⋆ Genre : Lovers to Exes - Fluff to Sweet Angst

☾ ˚｡⋆ Word Count : 1.8k

☾ ˚｡⋆ Summary : Like an eclipse, you and Minho collide in a radiant and all-consuming display of passion. But even the most breathtaking eclipses must pass, leaving behind the bittersweet beauty of what can never be again.

✮⋆˙ Masterlist ˙⋆✮

You call it a love story. One that was bigger than the ones who had it could ever recognize. You call it beguiling, bewitching. You call it yours.

Here’s how it goes.

It was mid-autumn when you bumped into him in the parking lot of a pet store. You were blinded by a bag of cat litter maybe four times your size and he hauled his own stash on each of his leather clad shoulders when you collided. Your introduction was laced with clumsy apologies spilling over the cusp of the prettiest lips he’d ever seen.

His name is Minho. Lee Minho.

He was a gentleman from the start. He helped you to your car, ignoring his own responsibilities to dip his toe into your ocean.

Minho couldn’t resist the instant hit. A craving for the sweet five foot something girl before him. He stayed, chatted and found himself getting addicted to the timbre of your laugh and that shake and swell that your smile caused. It only took a taste.

He managed to get your number. He proposed a playdate, for the cats, of course. He took a leap of faith as he stood in front of you, the woman that he wished wasn’t a stranger. You certainly don’t feel like one.

When you agreed he found himself planning your wedding colors.

You'll have to excuse him, he can get a little delulu when he meets a woman like you who sparks a new flame in his chest. He flashed you a smile and watched you as you flew down the asphalt on four wheels that he desperately wanted to follow, but it’s alright. He’ll see you again soon.

You'd never admit it but you’re no better than the bright eyed man that you can’t get off of your mind. He’s got you hypnotized, tossing and turning all night. You want to see him again, you want to hear his voice. You only spoke to this stranger for a second and he’s already rented a space in your mind and suddenly you feel a for sale sign staked into your heart.

The night of the playdate comes. The kitties played to their heart's content, chasing each other in circles as your head followed your heart around on a leash in your living room.

How can someone look like this? So enchanting and warm. You stole each other's thoughts right out of the other's mind and their words right off the tongue as you shared a gentle laugh about things you found that you have in common.

“I’ve never met anyone who liked that movie too.” You smiled and he melted.

“So you’ve never met anyone like me?” It’s brown staring into brown as you engage in a cautious stare down. It’s gentle and comfortable.

“I guess I haven’t”

“I’ve never met anyone like you either.” Suddenly your mind wanders to penning elegant invitations. Lace and white and love and Minho. All that is Minho. “Would you maybe want to hang out again sometime? Just us, no cats.”

His nose scrunches up in a smile as you laugh. He could listen to that sweet sound for the rest of his life. You cover your blush, bringing your hand up to your face and Minho waits patiently for you to give him a view of the sweet scarlet sweeping across your skin.

“I think I’d like that.” The cats rush by in a scurry, running and jumping, something like what your heart is doing in your chest.

It was all downhill from there or maybe it’s up, whatever you want to call it but you’ll settle with the title of perfect. You went hiking on your first date and a cafe for your second. You met his friends and stayed out late on rainy nights, dancing in the formless droplets that watered a connection deeper than the two of you could ever fathom.

“It’s cold!” You squeal and he laughs, pulling you closer and picking you up in a giggling spin just as the thunder cracks above. “Minho!” You get away but only because he wants you to. Only because he wanted to watch you scurry and make a half hearted escape with the hope of being chased by him.

It’s then that he decides that he’ll follow you anywhere. He’d walk through waters and hike mountains bigger than the feeling pressing against his chest, all for you.

Days and weeks turned into months of your shadows following his. You rose and set with his name on your tongue or his tongue on yours entirely. You proved to be inseparable. Insatiable and insufferable to his friends and yours.

So much so that one night, when your friends were sick of the kissing and cooing, you two escaped into the night hand in hand with not an ounce of a plan, but a hunger for adventure and each other. It took you four blocks to realize that the man next to you was the very adventure you desired. Black shirt, jeans and hat with a jacket you wanted to wear around your shoulders or maybe see on the floor.

You’re not picky.

It took a sweet call of his name and bat of your lashes for him to cup your cheek and kiss the lips he swore could say no wrong.

He savored you. You devoured him.

Stumbling and clumsy you found yourself in a park with little light, but you had this man memorized. Your hands went up his chest, over his shoulders and through his hair.

Minho’s hands, gosh - his hands - they took their time. They always did. He’s a perfect balance to the force that is you and you a refreshing crash against his still shore.

He picked you up, pinned you, kissed you and laughed. Gosh, you two laughed like you didn’t know anything else. You laughed like the two of you were completely by yourselves and hopefully you were because the sound that interrupted your gleeful giggles was less than wholesome when he took you.

He moved with ease, propping your leg up and making room for himself like you’re a puzzle he’s solved a million times already.

“Jagi.”

He panted against your lips, tongue finding yours as he practiced what he wanted to call you for the rest of your lives.

You tell yourself that there was an eclipse that night. That’s how you remember it.

A dimming and completion.

A colliding of forces

An event bigger than the both of you.

But even the most magical of moments end.

Those months turned into a year. A year of cats running around a messy apartment and a drawer filled to the brim with t-shirts and forgotten panties for visits that turned into weeks of sharing a bed. A year of kisses on every plain of skin that light touches.

A year of magic and now you’re being shown the trick.

It was Minho’s idea to get ice cream, but you knew that he’d hope to pass that pudding place he loved so much. You let him think his plan had worked. He got his pudding and you your ice cream and you walked arm and arm down a street that you and he call yours with how often you frequent it.

You were smiling as he told you a story, something ridiculous and exaggerated when someone caught his attention. A little girl with brown eyes wide like the sweetest boba on earth. She smiled and her mother hurried behind her with a haste that made you both grin. It was cute.

”Cute.” He cooed quietly, as you two passed and you hummed. “Ours will be just as adorable, maybe prettier.” He took a shot with that and smiled but that look in your eyes, the one that he’s never seen before, let him know that it was a shot in the dark.

”Minho…” Your eyes said it before your mouth could.

”You… don’t…” You both stop, staring and suddenly the plates beneath you shift and you lose yourself, or was it him that you lost? “I never asked, I just assumed…”

You considered changing your mind. You considered lying or converting your values but he’d see right through you. He always has. “You don’t want kids?”

Your ice cream melts, cone crumbles and he knows. “I don’t…” Suddenly he’s not hungry. Suddenly the sun is too bright and the hue of a prepossessing pink is gone from view.

The white and lace that was once pretty and shimmering is torn. The elegant invitations are ripping in a heavy wind and the color scheme is all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, no, no. no.

The eclipse has passed.

It’s after a week of grappling at the shattered pieces of what once was that the two of you sit on the end of his bed with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

You shake, feeling guilty even though he’s begged you not to. Your shadows overlap as you sit side by side and you pretend that your eclipse has returned for a second. Just a second, until Minho stands. He turns and he speaks and it’s weak. “We can’t…” and he breaks. “We can’t stay together…”

Sooni hisses at the air but you like to think that the idea is what the feline truly opposes. “I know.” You whisper and stand, drifting further in orbit.

You collect your things and for a second you try to work out an equation that tells you the exact moment that you were doomed. The exact moment that losing him also meant losing you.

Minho watches, fighting his tears and himself and his damned desire for a family. He curses himself for letting that desire be bigger than the one he has for you.

You turn to him, teary eyed and cracking at the corners. “I’m sorry.” He refuses to accept that. He steps forward like you’ve threatened him and cups your cheek. You lean into him one last time.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me.”

“But I’m so sorry…” You choke on the guilt metastasizing in your chest, wrapping around your ribcage. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to cut it out. Not after this. “In a perfect world we would’ve never gone farther than a simple hello and I would’ve never hurt you. I hate that I’ve hurt you.”

Minho folds, he lets the tears fall but that beautiful moon of yours comes back one last time in the form of his smile. “I had the chance to love you. That seems pretty perfect to me.”

You smile for just a second because he’s right. You were able to love him. To have him in a way that was extraordinary, unexchangeable and more than anything - it’s yours.

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rubywillkins · 28 days ago

Text

The Week of Angst| I

Lando Norris| The Rain Before The Storm

Pairing lando × female reader

Warning angst, accident, therapy

Lando Norris had always been a man in motion. As one of Formula 1’s most promising drivers, he lived life on the edge, chasing fractions of a second with precision and nerve. But for all the roaring crowds, champagne showers, and victory laps, he’d never known what it felt like to stop—to truly be still—until he met Y/n

She wasn’t part of his world. There were no selfies at the paddock, no requests for autographs. She had no idea who he was when they first met at a small gallery opening in Monaco. Y/n, an artist, stood beside one of her paintings, gesturing animatedly as she explained her work to a group of strangers. Lando was captivated—not just by her art but by her presence, her effortless warmth.

When he finally approached her, he stumbled over his words, uncharacteristically shy. She smiled at him, amused, and asked, “Do you always talk like you’re going 200 miles an hour?”

And just like that, Lando Norris, the man who lived for speed, slowed down.

Their connection was immediate, magnetic. They spent hours talking that night, about her art, his racing, their wildly different lives. For the first time in years, Lando felt seen—not as an athlete, not as a brand, but as a man.

Their love grew in the spaces between races, in stolen weekends and late-night phone calls. Y/n brought color to his world, grounding him in a way he never knew he needed. She teased him endlessly, saying he cared more about his car than himself, but she was the one who made sure he ate after grueling days at the track.

It was a rainy evening in Tuscany, six months after they met, when Lando decided he couldn’t wait any longer. They were staying at a quiet vineyard after a particularly exhausting season. He’d planned a grand proposal—candles, music, the works—but as they walked back to their villa, hand in hand, the words spilled out of him.

“Y/n,” he said, stopping suddenly.

She turned to him, her brow furrowing. “What is it?”

“I can’t imagine my life without you,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t want to imagine it. Will you marry me?”

Her breath caught, her eyes wide with shock. Then, slowly, her lips curled into the most radiant smile he’d ever seen. “Yes,” she whispered.

Rain began to fall as if the heavens were celebrating with them. They laughed, letting the drops soak their clothes, and he spun her in his arms. When he kissed her, it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise.

But life, as it often does, had other plans.

A few weeks after their engagement, y/n’s younger brother, James, was in a horrific car accident. Unfortunately he couldn't survive , the sight of him broken and fragile in a hospital bed shook y/n to her core. She spent days by his side, but at the end he passed. She felt as if ahe lost the most precious thing in this world. She felt lost. her usual brightness dimmed by worry and guilt.

Lando tried to support her, doing everything he could to make her life easier. But the cracks were beginning to show. She stopped painting, stopped laughing. The woman who once teased him for being too serious now seemed like a shadow of herself.

One night they sat on the couch in their small apartment, the space once filled with laughter now weighed down by a heavy, suffocating silence. Y/n stared at her hands, twisting the silver ring on her finger. She had rehearsed this moment in her head a hundred times, but now that it was here, every word felt like a dagger in her chest.

Lando sat beside her, his knee bouncing with nervous energy. He could sense something was wrong—he’d felt it for weeks. The light in her eyes had faded, her smiles had grown rare, and the woman who once teased him endlessly now barely spoke.

“Y/n,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “What’s going on? Please talk to me.”

Her chest tightened at the sound of his voice. She knew how much he loved her, how hard he’d been trying to hold her together. But the weight she carried had become too much, and she couldn’t bear to see him hurt because of her.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando turned to her fully, his brows furrowing. “About what?”

She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling as she twisted the ring off her finger and set it gently on the coffee table.

His eyes flicked to the ring, and a wave of panic swept over him. “Y/n, no. Don’t do this.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t keep pretending everything is okay, Lando. I’m not okay.”

He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, the motion stabbing at his heart. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Whatever you’re going through, we’ll get through it together. I’ll do anything—just tell me what you need.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “That’s the problem, Lando. I don’t even know what I need. I feel like I’m drowning, and I’m dragging you down with me.”

“You’re not dragging me down,” he said firmly, his voice rising with desperation. “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/n. Let me help you.”

“I’ve tried,” she choked out. “I’ve tried to let you in, but this… this darkness inside me, it’s bigger than us. Every day, I wake up and I feel… empty. And seeing you try so hard to fix me when I can’t even fix myself—it’s killing me.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Then let me carry you through this. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Her gaze met his, her eyes filled with sorrow. “That’s just it, Lando. I don’t want you to carry me. I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness, your life, for someone who can’t even get out of bed most days.”

“You’re not a burden,” he said, his voice breaking. “Don’t you see that? I love you, Y/n I don’t care how hard it gets.”

“And I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “That’s why I have to let you go. You deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who isn’t broken.”

He stood abruptly, running his hands through his hair. “Stop saying that! You’re not broken, y/n. You’re just… you’re going through something, and that’s okay. We can get help, therapy, whatever you need. Just don’t do this.”

Her tears came harder now, her shoulders shaking as she whispered, “I’ve already made up my mind.”

Lando sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. He was silent for a long moment before finally looking at her, his eyes red and shining. “Please don’t do this,” he said again, his voice barely audible.

Y/n reached out and touched his cheek, her hand lingering for a moment. “I’ll always love you, Lando. But I can’t be the person you need right now. And I can’t keep hurting you like this.”

He grabbed her hand, holding it tightly as if he could keep her from slipping away. “You’re everything I need. Please, Y/n. Don’t leave me.”

She gently pulled her hand away, the loss of her touch leaving him cold. “I’m sorry,” she said, standing slowly.

Lando watched as she picked up her bag, his heart shattering with every step she took toward the door. “Y/n,” he called out, his voice cracking.

She paused at the door, her back to him. “Goodbye, Lando,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

The apartment felt unbearably empty without her. He sat on the couch for hours, staring at the ring on the table, the echo of her words ringing in his ears.

And when the silence became too much, he finally broke, his sobs filling the space where her laughter once lived.

The next two years were a blur of races and emptiness. Lando won more than ever before, but the victories felt hollow. He threw himself into his career, hoping the adrenaline would drown out the ache in his chest. It didn’t.

Nights were the worst. Alone in his apartment, he’d replay every moment with y/n, wondering if there was something he could have done differently. He missed her laugh, the way she scrunched her nose when she was deep in thought, the way she made him feel like he was more than just a driver.

Y/n missed him too. She spent months in therapy, untangling the guilt and grief that had consumed her. Slowly, she began to heal. She started painting again, pouring her pain into her work. But every time she finished a piece, she thought of Lando. She wondered if he was okay, if he still thought of her.

It was a humid summer night when fate brought them together again. Lando was at a club with his teammates, reluctant but too tired to argue. He was nursing a drink at the bar when he saw her.

Y/n.

She looked different. Stronger. Her eyes, once clouded with pain, now glimmered with something lighter. But she was still Y/n. His Y/n.

She turned, and their eyes met. Time stopped.

He approached her cautiously, his heart pounding. “Y/n,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Lando,” she breathed, her eyes searching his.

They didn’t speak for a long moment, the noise of the club fading into the background. Finally, she smiled, tentative but real. “How have you been?”

“Better now,” he said softly.

They sat in a quiet corner, talking as if no time had passed. She told him about her therapy, about finding herself again. He told her about the nights he’d spent missing her, the races that felt meaningless without her there.

When the club closed, he hesitated before asking, “Can I see you again?”

She looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “I’d like that,”

---

They started slow, rebuilding what had been broken. They became friends again, but it wasn’t long before the old spark reignited. The way she laughed at his jokes, the way he touched her hand just a little longer than necessary—it was undeniable.

One rainy evening, as they decided to meet at their regular stop just like older times..

The small café on the corner of the bustling city street was nearly empty, save for a handful of customers enjoying the calm of the afternoon. At a table near the window, Lando sat across from Y/n.

“when you told me to met here, I was so surprised, I can’t believe you still remembered this place,” she said, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup.

“How could I forget?” Lando replied, his lips curving into a small smile. “We used to sit here for hours, pretending we didn’t notice the staff trying to close up around us.”

Y/n laughed softly, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. “And you’d always order that ridiculous caramel mocha with extra whipped cream. What was it you called it? ‘Fuel for champions’?”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, don’t mock the champion’s drink. It got me through some tough times on and off the track.”

She shook her head, her smile faltering slightly. “I’ve missed this… talking to you like this.”

Lando’s expression softened. “I’ve missed it too.”

There was a pause, not awkward but filled with the weight of everything they’d lost. Lando finally broke the silence.

“Do you remember that trip to Tuscany?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Y/n’s eyes lit up with a mix of nostalgia and emotion. “How could I forget? That was the first time I ever saw you truly relax. You were so happy… spinning me around in the rain like we didn’t have a care in the world.”

“That was the night I proposed,” he said, his voice tinged with both fondness and sorrow. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you did under those stars.”

She looked down at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about that night a lot. About how perfect it all felt… how I ruined it.”

“Y/n, you didn’t ruin anything,” Lando said, leaning forward. “You were going through something I couldn’t fully understand, but that doesn’t change how much I loved you. How much I still…” He stopped himself, the words hanging in the air.

She met his gaze, her eyes glistening. “You still… what?”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “How much I still love you. I never stopped, Y/n.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “Lando, I don’t know if I deserve that. I left you. I broke us.”

“You didn’t break us,” he said firmly. “Life threw us into a storm we weren’t ready for. But we survived it, didn’t we? And sitting here with you now, it feels like… maybe we’re still standing.”

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his. “Do you really think we can find our way back to what we had?”

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with hers. “I don’t want what we had. I want something even better. I want the future we dreamed of, Y/n. And I want it with you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Finally, she whispered, “I’ve missed you so much, Lando. I’ve missed us.”

“Then let’s start again,” he said, his voice steady but filled with hope. “No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me, one day at a time.”

A small, tearful smile broke across her face as she nodded. “I’d like that.”

He smiled back, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. For the first time in years, the weight on both their hearts felt a little lighter.

Outside, the rain began to fall softly, but neither of them noticed. They were too lost in each other, their hearts finally finding their way back home.

Under the rain, they danced once more, not as strangers reuniting, but as two souls who had weathered life's storms and found their way back to each other. This time, they knew their love was unbreakable.

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