#remember that things change and time moves forward nonetheless.

[glitches-and-bugs]

There is a tree in my head. Not visibly, though. I feel it when I wake, in my thoughts it grows. It blossoms when I help, and burn when I am cruel. It hurts, when it burns. When I fall in slumber, I am the tree. I feel timeless, ageless. Powerful, yet helpless of all that happens. It is an old tree, though I am still young, and soon it will be gone. I don't know what will happen. When it's first branch breaks, so does a piece of me. Again, not visibly. It can't blossom anymore. Awake is just as bad as asleep, if not worse. Asleep i can help mend it. Fix it. Awake all I can do is suffer and hope.

Error: That's rough, buddy. Try Watering it.

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[jellxzy]

I was wondering if you could do a hyunju x fem!reader where the reader is pregnant and reader sees that Hyunju is alone in the second game so reader approaches her and they start a friendship and as time goes by they both fall in love ^^

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐁𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧! -𝐇𝐜

|| 𝐂𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐱 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

|| 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬!: 𝐂𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

|| 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

|| 𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬! 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲! Thank 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪! 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

Here you were, competing in deadly children games for the sake of your own child. You never excepted your life to go down this path, you were a heir to a wealthy company. Going to collage abroad, studying medicine.

And yet, you're stuck here. Fearing your life every second of the day. Luckily, you were only two months pregnant unlike Junhee, so you didn't show like she did. So, you acted just like another normal girl competing at the games.

Though you were eating for two, so the food definitely didn't keep you calm and the one thing you waited for the whole day. Instead you laid in the uncomfortable bed, staring up. You laid there with a hand on your stomach, thinking of what to do with the money you received.

You'll get a little house in the provinces, probably build a farm, and take care of your baby. Even if it's only you taking care of her/him. Then a soft yet deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Hi, uhm. We were teammates during the game earlier, remember?"

She was your teammate during the game, and you remember it so vividly, she was brave and strong, had good leadership skills, moving back to the 'strong' she is very strong, you had accidentally slipped on blood whilst moving, but with ease she lifted you up to continue on walking forward.

"Yeah." You nod your head with a smile as you sat up. "Well, we're all gathering there if you'd like to be with us. Just so nobody's alone. " She smiled while explaining. "Oh, yeah sure." You reluctantly agree standing up and walking with her towards the group.

You couldn't help but notice her lingering hand on your shoulder, a small smile on her lips as her eyes glance at you. A soft pink hue appearing on your cheeks as you notice that.

Upon reaching the group, the hand on your shoulder gets removed while she goes up the stairs. The group welcomes you in, the atmosphere easy and has no awkwardness whatsoever. But when the topic changes to you, the topic asking on why they entered the games.

"I-uhm." You shudder before saying in a quiet and soft tone; "I'm pregnant." The weight on your shoulder finally gets lifted as the secret finally comes out. "How many months are you in?" Geum-ja asks, her eyes filled with worry.

"I'm only two months in, so me being pregnant won't bring us down." You tell them with a smile. "Hopefully." You mutter under your breath. During the whole conversation, you could feel Hyun-ju's eyes watching your every move.

So, when the a voice announced that it was gonna be lights out in thirty minutes, the conversations was forced to stop. "Hey." Hyun-ju's voice called out to you from behind. "I think it's best if you sleep in my bed tonight. Don't worry I don't sleep."

She left no other options as her hand gripped your wrist in a firm yet soft grip, stopping you from moving. "Okay." You accepted nonetheless, walking with her towards her bed. "You don't have to do this, y'know."

"I know. But I have too. No one knows what they could do. Especially to you." You turn around in your bed, now facing her while she sits on the floor next to the bed. "You can lay down here..." You trail off, feeling a bit shy.

"With me." Her eyes slightly widen at that before glancing at your blushing state. "Are you sure?" She asks turning to look at you. "Mhm." You hum with a soft nod, moving your body so she can have space, patting the space in front of you.

She slowly moved to lay down next to you, carefully as to not accidentally hurt you or cause you discomfort. "Am I hurting you? Are you okay?" She asked with a worried tone, which only caused you to laugh.

"You're only laying you're head on my arm, I'll be fine." You lightly chuckle to ease the atmosphere between you. Instead of sleeping you could only admire how beautiful she looked underneath the dim lights, and how she still had a protective hold over you by her arm draped over your waist. Even if it's a small thing, you somehow still felt more protected than you did on the outside world.

And when you were already sleeping that's when she woke up, due to her military training she's gotten used to waking up very early in the morning. She didn't notice at first, how your hand lightly gripped her bicep, scared that she'll leave you. And that how her arm was still draped on your waist that you didn't bother to move or brush off. She only continued to look at you, not wanting to move at all, brushing a hair off your face to pulling up the blanket to cover you.

And that's how she fell for you, as for you? You knew the moment you first saw her. You knew she was the one, the one who will help you raise your child. And that's what the both of you are doing right know, you carried your baby in your arms while she prepared her milk.

Yes, it's a girl.

The both of you won, alongside with your close friends. And luckily Junhee gave birth successfully, it scared you a little that you're gonna be next to go through that but, after was amazing. Spending months miserable to birth something so beautiful, it was poetic.

three months in, and a little baby bump was finally showing. Though, you couldn't be more confused, is it because you just ate or is it because of the baby.

and that's the month she demanded you to stop working. Now, she was the one working outside your shared apartment. Yet, she was still the same sweet and gentle person you know. Four months in, your baby bump got a little bigger. So, now she holds it in her hands every chance she gets. Hugging you from behind whilst you cook, cuddling with you in bed, and sitting on the sofa, all of those moments, she had her hand on your baby bump, that's also the month you told everyone else that you were pregnant, so now you get free kimchi every week from Geum-ja.

Five months in, and that's when your baby starts to kick. And every time, she does, you call Hyun-ju. And yes, it's a baby girl. And when the first time she feels her kicking, she sobbed into you shoulder for a straight hour, like she's the pregnant one. Geum-ja and Junhee decoded it was best to spend their mornings and evenings with you, so they'll be there if you need anything. Considering they've gone through it already, Junhee more recently.

Six months in, the baby's kicks become more frequent, and you start to crave more weirder foods. You suggested for Hyun-ju to just stay with you all day and quit her job, but she said she's saving up for her collage. That's when you sobbed into her shoulder, whispering-yelling thank you's and words of praise to her.

Seven months in, that's when your emotions took a sharp turn, your hormones kicking in every minute. She gets tired of it sure, but she loves you more than anything. And that includes waking up in the midnight just to go out and buy your craving. Only to return to you, already fast asleep.

Eight months passed by like a breeze, your baby bump was definitely showing more than ever, and you looked so cute, despite your hair and clothes being disheveled most of the time. She starts talking to the baby bump, while your fast asleep, talking about how beautiful her mother is, and how great she is.

Nine months in, and that's the month you waited for, the whole time. It was near your due-date, and she's already got everything packed, baby blanket, yours and her clothes, baby clothes that were sent by Junhee, and most importantly her strength.

the due-date day, was the hardest fight Hyun-ju ever fought, hands were gripped tightly, curses spilled from your mouth, and a birth was witnessed. So, when it was your turn to give birth, everyone who survived came to support you and Hyun-ju, so, now you're living in Thailand, peacefully with your soon-to-be wife. And a four-year old daughter. You're life was complete.

[authorhjk1]

A car ride

(Baek Jiheon X Male Reader)

( @mechaknight-98 this is my part of the Jiheon challenge. I first thought of writing your fic's honeymoon as a continuation, but decided on something else in the end)

"Stop."

Your heart aches as you say that word. You were really hoping she would pass this time. You really did. But she made a mistake once again.

"What? No please."

"Jiheon, the traffic light was red."

"I-I didn't see it. Please?"

"I can't get you your driver's license, if you can't stop when you should be stopping."

"Just one last chance. I'm the only one of my friends who doesn't have one. And my parents will kill me if they hear I failed.... again."

You curse internally. Jiheon looks absolutely devastated. You obviously get, why she wants to pass this test. But you can't just give it to her. If she has an accident after you let her pass, who's fault is that gonna be?

"I can't do anything for you. You'll have to take the test again."

Jiheon seems like she's about to cry. But her demeanor suddenly changes, when she looks at you. Her face becomes a little colder as she gives you a stare. You're totally not prepared when she leans over. Too surprised, you don't attempt to stop her, when her soft lips meet yours. Instinctively closing your eyes, you remember that you sat in this exact seat before. At that time it was Hayoung.... But now you feel Jiheon's lips on yours. Nothing with tongue. But still incredible nonetheless.

When shee pulls away, you realize her eyes were closed too as you open yours.

"I-I hear what Hayoung unnie said and... I was hoping we could work something out too?"

You knew that that one mistake would probably put you into more bad situations. You were afraid to get caught, afraid that something would happen while she drives, because you let her pass, afraid that she might even blackmail you or something. But you didn't expect her to tell Jiheon. Who is now sitting in the driver's seat, her eyes on you, silently begging you to not let her fail.

"I don't know, Jiheon. Hayoung was a one time thing. And I'm still regretting it."

"I won't make you regret it. Actually..."

Jiheon hesitates, before she reaches over and places her hand on your lap.

"I want to make this the best day of your life."

You're stunned at Jiheon's sudden increase in confidence. Too stunned. Because when you look down, she already opened your zipper and is about to reach inside your jeans.

"Wait-"

She doesn't. You groan, when you feel her warm hand wrap around your cock as she fishes it out of your pants. Jiheon starts to slowly stroke your cock, while looking at you. You always adored her cute eyes smile, but now it looks a little mischievous. She must've caught you glancing at her lips, because she is now leaning forward again, capturing yours with hers. This time, you do feel her tongue graze your teeth, before you let her inside. The two of you share a heated kiss as the pace of Jiheon's handjob increases.

You realize you can't get enough of her as your hand lands on the back of her head, pulling her a little further towards you. You stroke her dark hair, while her tongue roams your mouth.

Soon Jiheon moves back a little, showing off that smile once more. The two of you look into each other's eyes. You both come to a silent understanding. Slowly, you start to push her head down, your hand still in her hair. Jiheon keeps eye contact, until she reaches your cock. Opening her mouth, she lets her lips wrap themselves around your tip.

With her hand on the lower half of your cock, Jiheon blows you right here in the car. At least Hayoung had the decency to suggest a private place. But you're unable to stop her now, the sounds she is making makes your eyes roll back. Her tongue plays around with your cock, just like it did earlier with your own tongue. Her soft lips are tightly sealed around your length and you can see her cheeks hollow, whenever she sucks particularly hard.

You can't help but reach out to put your free hand on her ass. You have to admit, when she got into the car earlier, you already checked out her shorts from behind. Now you get to feel her cheeks through the denim as her mouth warms your cock.

"You can pull them off, if you want."

Jiheon momentarily peaked her head up, before you push it down again. While she still sucks you off, you reach underneath her to unbutton her shorts. Pulling them off her, your greeted by a set of simple black panties. You let your hand roam her cheeks again, before it dives underneath the fabric.

"God...."

You groan as you feel Jiheon moan around your dick at your touch. Her pussy welcomes you as you push a finger inside. As she she keeps moving her lips up and down your shaft, you add another one. You start to finger Jiheon, while she gives you head. Your head rolls back against the headrest.

"Thee condom is in my right cheek pocket."

As you hear those words, it dawns on you that Jiheon came prepared. Did she fail on purpose? Or was she just expecting to fail again?

You fumble for her shorts, which you let carelessly drop to the floor earlier. Taking out the condom, you rip open the packaging. Jiheon reaches for it and puts in your cock. She lowers her head one last time, giving you a couple of sucks, before she sits back up again. But not for long. She climbs onto your lap and you reach upwards, making sure your hand is in between her head and the car roof.

Jiheon lowers herself onto your cock and you feel how her lips part around it. With a cute moan, she takes all of you inside, her eyes shut. You lean forward to kiss her neck, your hands now on her waist. Jiheon slowly begins to lift herself again, before sliding down on your shaft once more. She sets a slow pace at first, enabling you to take your time to enjoy the taste of her skin. You give her cheek a kiss. And then, you muffle her moans by kissing her. Both of your tongues dance tango in each other's mouth, while Jiheon keeps a steady pace.

Eventually, she starts to go faster though. You can feel how her moans into your mouth become stronger, louder. She starts to not just move up and down, but grind against you as well, making sure that your cock hits every single spot inside her. Her own hands are all over your shoulders and hair, trying to hold onto something.

The car is filled with moans and panting. And the sounds of Jiheon's hips meeting yours. Soon, the both of you can't keep your climaxes in check. The first to fall is Jiheon. Her legs shake and her pussy pulsates around you, before you feel her orgasm on top of you. She falls onto your chest with a satisfied cry. With her gorgeous face now buried in your chest, you move your hands to her ass. You make her move up and down once more. Her tight pussy now about to push you over the edge as well.

"Jiheon..."

You groan her name as you finally orgasm. The two of you stay locked together, enjoying each other's company.

"I have to tell you a secret."

Jiheon lifts her head and you look down at her.

"I passed the test a week ago."

Her eyes form half moons and her wide smile makes you unconsciously smile too.

[spencersmopbucket]

A Deadly Flower Bloomed | Caius Volturi

Pairing: Caius Volturi x Reader Summary: They'd always known you'd make a stunning immortal. But based on your shy, docile human temperament, they weren't aware how deadly. Warning: slightly violent and gory, newborn vampire alert

The wait was torture for Caius. It had been three days; three days of silence. Your absence mocked him. He was used to receiving a tug on his cloak every few hours -- you -- your human needs demanding his attention and closeness. He'd become adjusted to your soft, innocent giggle echoing throughout the castle, no doubt getting into mischief with Jane or chasing after the pet cat they'd allowed you to have. He'd grown to love your warm fingers threading through his when you craved rare affection from your King.

Aro had spent a bit of time holding your limp hand while you transitioned on the silky bedsheets of your quarters. This was one of the only times Caius wished Aro couldn't read minds. He could see, just based off from his brother's porcelain expression, that you were in agony. It made him shudder for the first time in hundreds of years. Normally, such a human reaction disgusted him. But when it came to you, there were no limits to his affections.

In your human life, you'd been so undeserving of this type of pain. You were pure, quiet, humble. You were dainty and sweet, such a contrast to Caius himself. An angel in human form.

Now, you were locked behind thick doors of stone and silence. He hadn’t left the corridor outside your chambers since the moment your screams had started. Even Marcus, ever-emotionless, had raised a brow at his brother’s refusal to move.

Three days. Three nights. Eighty-two agonizing hours of Caius pacing like a maddened thing, listening, analyzing every faint twitch of sound behind that door. He had committed a thousand atrocities over the centuries -- but this was the first that truly felt like penance.

He didn’t eat. He didn’t speak. And though his immortal heart did not beat, it ached.

You had trusted him with your life -- with your soul -- and he had returned the favor by sentencing you to fire. Beautiful, purifying fire, yes... but fire nonetheless. And now, all he could do was wait for you to awaken -- reborn, perhaps, but changed. There was no going back.

The last time he saw you, your eyes had been glassy with tears, your hand trembling in his as your heart slowed under the weight of the venom. “Don’t leave me,” you'd whispered.

And he hadn't. Not once.

So when the stone doors creaked open -- slowly, cautiously -- Caius straightened like a statue brought to life, his breath caught in his throat.

Then he saw you.

The transformation had been nothing short of divine. Your skin gleamed like moonlight, your eyes were red and ravenous. But it was the way you stood -- tall, regal, absolutely still -- that made him falter.

Your fierce eyes finally ceased from analyzing your surroundings, clearly enamored with your newfound eye strength. They zeroed in on your mate, every inch of his skin, his red eyes, his plush pink lips and platinum hair. You inhaled his smell, a warm bliss finally hitting your cold eyes, showing him similarities to the girl you were when you were human.

His worries melted away. Even changed, you were still in love with him.

You stepped forward, for once in your life not tentatively. Your cold hand floated up, sliding onto Caius's cheek.

Caius couldn't breathe, not that he needed to. Not when your gaze held such fierce clarity -- like your eyes saw into his soul now, truly and completely. Your touch, once timid and featherlight, now carried a steadiness that shook him far more than any battlefield or rebellion ever had.

Your thumb brushed over the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, and something in your expression softened -- just a sliver, but it was you. It was the very core of your gentleness breaking through the cold steel of your rebirth.

“I remember everything,” you said softly, your voice velvet and laced with power.

It wasn’t the high-pitched, uncertain tone you used to carry. It was smooth, confident, regal. A voice meant for a queen. His queen.

Caius turned his face slightly into your palm, closing his eyes for just a breath, allowing himself this small moment of relief. You had come back to him. Not just in form, but in essence.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here,” you added after a beat, your tone flickering with a trace of old vulnerability. “I thought… the fire might take too long. That it might change me too much.”

“It did change you,” he whispered, finally letting his hands rise to cup your face in return. His thumbs rested beneath your jaw, tilting your head gently as his eyes drank you in. “But in the most magnificent of ways. You glow, my love."

Caius barely had time to marvel at the wonder that was you before your cool lips met his in a kiss that shattered centuries of restraint.

Your mouth pressed to his with all the need you’d bottled up over three days of burning agony -- and a lifetime before that. Caius responded instantly, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was fervent, claiming, the taste of your venom still fresh and electric on your tongue. It was heat and hunger, devotion and desire -- coiling between you like a tether pulled taut by centuries of longing.

You moaned softly into the kiss, and that tiny sound unraveled something feral in him. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently, and your sharp gasp made him deepen the kiss, parting your lips with his own.

For someone who’d never kissed with a vampire’s strength or precision before, you were devastating. Your hands roamed over his chest, up to his shoulders, as if reacquainting yourself with every part of him -- but this time, without fragility. You didn’t have to hold back anymore.

And neither did he.

His fangs grazed your lower lip, teasing, and you pulled him impossibly closer, tongue slipping past his lips, matching his fervor with your own. There was nothing tentative now. You kissed like a queen -- bold, dangerous, in complete control.

But then --

You froze.

Your hands stilled against his chest, your body going rigid in his arms.

Caius pulled back just slightly, confusion flickering in his crimson eyes.

“What is it?” he asked, voice rough from the kiss.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even blink. Your pupils dilated, nostrils flaring as a sickeningly sweet scent hit the air -- warm, metallic, utterly intoxicating.

Blood.

Your head whipped toward the far end of the corridor, nostrils flaring as the scent grew stronger, laced with panic and fresh pain.

Down the hallway, behind a set of double doors leading to the main offices, the human secretary had sliced her hand on a piece of parchment paper. A minor, foolish accident. One drop. That’s all it took.

Your eyes darkened, jaw clenching as your newborn instincts screamed to the surface, drowning out everything else.

“She's bleeding,” you hissed, almost reverent, voice low and guttural. Your hands trembled -- not with fear, but with craving.

Caius stepped in front of you instantly, eyes sharp. “Look at me,” he demanded, his voice a command born of centuries of rule. “Not her. Me.”

But you were already gone.

One blur of motion -- faster than the human eye could track -- and you’d vanished down the corridor.

Caius took off after you, a blur of platinum and black. Behind him, Aro and Marcus appeared in the hallway, faces unreadable.

“Shall we intervene?” Marcus asked quietly.

Aro smiled, almost fondly. “No. Let her show us what she is.”

When you reached the room Janine was in (a human secretary that hated you, mostly out of jealousy), your sharp eyes caught the droplet of blood falling from her finger. Caius, Aro, and Marcus stood behind you. A raspy growling exhale left your lips as Janine's wide eyes met yours.

You tilted your head, a smirk falling onto your ravenous lips as you picked up her fear. Your new confidence was evident to the Kings.

Three years of Janine's torment had made you cold. Unforgiving. Similarly to your mate.

"Funny, the situation we're in," You said, your voice low and rasped with hunger. You took a small step forward. "I used to be scared of you. Now look. You're cowering. All because of a paper cut."

You circled her, like a lion. The thin line between your restraint and hunger wavered every few seconds -- but you wanted to taunt her. You wanted her to feel what you'd felt for years. She'd made you feel inconvenient, powerless, she'd embarrassed you. You were scared of her gaze for years.

Aro smirked, watching with an almost fond interest. "This is quite the transformation," he commented softly to Caius and Marcus, his voice dripping with amusement. "I had no doubt she'd be a force to be reckoned with, but this… this is something else entirely."

"You remember the way you treated me, don't you?" you purred, your voice cruel and smooth. "The way you looked down on me? Like I was just some little girl beneath your notice. Do you remember the way you used to laugh at me? Make me feel small... insignificant?"

Janine's face paled even further, her lips trembling. She nodded, clearly understanding now the weight of her mistake.

"Name, please--"

A musical laugh slid from your lips. You slid a cold finger down her face, stopping at her pulse point. Your eyes darkened.

"No one's stopping me. No one values your life. You were cruel to me when I was fragile," you hissed, wrapping fingers around her throat. "You've worked with the Volturi for years. Do they show mercy when wronged?"

"Darling." Caius hummed, tilting his head. "Let us not play with our food, hm?"

You paused at Caius's voice, the coldness of his words settling in the air like ice. His tone was both commanding and restrained, a gentle reminder of the control he held, even as he stood just behind you. His presence was a dark anchor, pulling you back from the edge, even as your instincts screamed for more.

Aro’s amused smile flickered for a brief moment as he exchanged a glance with Marcus, both of them content to watch the drama unfold, but it was Caius who seemed to hold the reigns of the situation.

You slowly, reluctantly tightened your grip on Janine's throat, but your eyes remained locked on hers, still burning with the promise of your wrath.

Caius’s gaze was unwavering, his crimson eyes flickering with something unreadable. "It is beneath us to linger on a mere human. We've played the game long enough," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, yet there was a finality to his words that made your breath catch.

With his final assert, you pulled Janine's head sharply, exposing her neck. Then, a beautifully gruesome sight was exposed to the Kings. Your fangs extended and you dove in.

The moment your fangs sank into Janine's soft, fragile skin, the room was filled with the sickening sound of her blood spilling into your mouth. The taste was sharp, metallic, and intoxicating, but it was the fear that mixed with it that made the experience so exhilarating. The pulse beneath your lips was strong, a steady rhythm that resonated in the very depths of you.

Janine’s body jerked beneath you, her hands weakly clutching at your arm, but it was futile. Her struggles were meaningless, a mere echo of her last attempts to assert any kind of control, and you let her helplessness feed your hunger.

Behind you, you could feel the presence of the Volturi Kings -- Aro, Marcus, and Caius -- each of them silently observing the spectacle before them. Aro’s usual grin had faded, his gaze fixated on you with an intensity that was both curious and approving. Marcus stood still, his face unreadable, though his eyes hinted at something more... calculating. Caius, however, remained as steadfast as ever, his crimson eyes locked on you, unreadable, yet undeniably proud.

As your fangs tore into Janine's neck, her blood flowed faster, and you could feel the rush of power flood through your veins. You had never felt so alive, so unstoppable. The human was nothing more than a source of sustenance to you now, a mere pawn in your game of power.

Yet, even as your hunger began to fade and her life force ebbed away, there was something dark and beautiful about this moment. The vulnerability of the human woman, the sense of control you held over her, and the knowledge that you were no longer the weak, fragile being you once were. You were no longer the one cowering under her gaze.

Caius stepped closer, his voice low and commanding. "Enough," he murmured, his eyes glinting with the slightest bit of impatience.

You reluctantly pulled away, savoring the last taste of Janine's blood before letting her fall to the ground, lifeless and drained. Her body crumpled like a discarded puppet, leaving behind only the memory of her cruelty.

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of what had just transpired hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Aro’s smile returned, this time tinged with something darker, almost satisfied.

"Truly magnificent," he remarked, his voice filled with quiet admiration. "You have embraced your power fully."

Caius’s gaze never left you, his voice just a whisper. "You are no longer the person you once were. You are powerful, so powerful. But with time, we will learn to harness this power."

You straightened, feeling the power of the moment settle over you like a cloak. Your eyes flicked from Janine’s lifeless body to the Kings before you, each of them acknowledging the transformation that had taken place, both in you and in the room.

For the first time since your transformation, you felt untouchable. But as usual, Caius grounded you. His fingers intertwined with your blood soaked ones as he walked with you down the corridor of the castle, leading you to his quarters.

When you reached them, he presented you with a bejeweled box, opening it quietly. Inside, there was an exquisite black dress, lace and silk with a corset. A blood red ruby sat in the center of the breast. Beside the the dress was a black cloak, similar to the one Caius donned. And finally, there was a glimmering necklace -- A Volturi crest, encrusted with diamonds.

"A queen must have the proper attire. Your transformation has officially made you a part of me -- my wife. It does not compare to your effervescence.. however," he hummed, a rare, gentle smile on his lips. "It is the very best attire possible. I hope you will accept it."

The words hung in the air like a delicate thread, wrapping around you in a way you hadn't expected. Caius's rare, gentle smile flickered across his face, a soft contrast to the fierce power that surrounded him. His words were not just a gift -- they were a declaration. A bond formed not only by blood but by something deeper, more eternal.

You stood there for a moment, your gaze flicking from the dress, to the necklace, and finally back to him. The offer was not just material -- it was the mark of his trust, of the position he was giving you. His wife. His queen.

Your fingers brushed lightly over the fabric of the dress, feeling its weight, its softness. The black lace shimmered faintly, as though it were alive. The blood-red ruby at its center seemed to pulse, like a heartbeat, in sync with your own.

For the first time since your transformation, you felt the full weight of what you'd become. You were not just Caius's equal in power -- you were now tied to him in the most sacred way possible. You were his queen. His partner.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your blood-soaked hands feeling lighter in his grasp. His touch was the grounding force you needed -- steady, unwavering. And yet, there was something else there too. A promise.

You then turned, placing a gentle hand on Caius's chest. Love poured into your red eyes as you leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss onto his lips.

"It is all absolutely beautiful, Caius. Truly. I couldn't ask for anything more than being your queen. For eternity."

Caius stood still as your hand rested on his chest, his crimson eyes watching yours with an intensity that spoke volumes. The world around you seemed to quiet in that moment, as though everything else faded into the background and only the two of you remained -- as it was always meant to be.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours yet again. The kiss was a powerful affirmation, full of love, respect, and something much deeper. It was a union of souls, forged through centuries and now sealed in this single, tender moment.

His hands moved to cradle your face, his fingers brushing along your jaw with a possessiveness that was unmistakable. The kiss deepened, a soft fire igniting between you both as you both sought to imprint this moment into your very beings.

When you finally pulled away, the air between you crackled with something more than just desire. There was something eternal, something unshakable.

His voice was a low growl, soft but brimming with power. "You are mine, now and forever. No one will ever be as important to me."

A faint smile curved his lips, one that was as rare and precious as the moments when he allowed his vulnerability to show. "You have everything, and you will have everything for eternity. I will never let you go." He finished.

You stepped back slightly, the glimmering necklace catching the light, the Volturi crest now a symbol of your bond. "I will always be yours, Caius," you whispered, your voice steady but laced with the same promise. "Until the world crumbles."

Caius reached forward, his hands pulling you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once again. This time, it was more than just love. It was the sealing of your fate, the beginning of your reign together, side by side.

The world could tremble before the Volturi, but you and Caius would be the ones who stood unyielding, together.

[briefcasesnbadges]

Title: Bad for Your Health

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Emily talk at a political fundraising event before you go home together.

CW: Mentions of smoking. Mentions of an affair/cheating.

Your relationship with Emily had always been complicated. Ever since boarding school, you had been at odds with each other. You didn't want things to be that way, it was just how they ended up. The circumstances had changed, as had the ways your animosity showed, but it all there nonetheless. At this point, neither you nor Emily had any idea who was pushing things forward in such a manner anymore.

Emily hadn't gone into politics like you, but she was still somewhat involved. Unit Chief was a pretty big deal, especially with a unit like the BAU. They were high profile, the kind of agents that your parents would have never let you mingle around had they been alive. However, you had already known Emily, and your parents were long gone.

"Cigarettes, really Emily?" you teased. Emily scoffed as you plucked it from her lips and stole a drag. It was reminiscent of the first time that you had kissed each other. Emily would swear up and done that she made the first move, but you distinctly remember her freezing until your lips touched hers.

"Can't be any worse for my health than you are," Emily shot back. This time, it was your turn to scoff. Of all the things in the world, you'd probably be the last thing to do her in. "What are you doing out here? There are donors inside."

"Well, I can't stand them. Frank can charm them, they love him. Especially the ones with young interns." Emily's face fell at the confirmation of the rumors that had been swirling around DC. You and your husband had become a power couple to the people. He was one of the youngest senators elected for his state, and you made waves as a lawyer before becoming an integral part of a presidential cabinet. Now, you were working as an ambassador between several parties and the government.

"How long has it been?" Emily asked you. The question could have been for a hundred different things, but you knew what she wanted to know. Emily's presence always seemed to be most prevalent whenever you and Frank became estranged. He only seemed to want you around election years, not that you cared that much anymore. It stung at first, but you had learned to live two separate lives with ease.

"A year and a half. We keep good appearances, but it's been easier with me in Korea for the past six months. He tried his luck last time, so I've been back in my penthouse since my flight in," you told her. "This whole mess has become so much easier since Xavier and Alex went off to college."

"Why not just get a divorce?" Emily asked you. It had been too long. The world looked to you for all sorts of things, and you had become one of America's darlings as the picture perfect wife. You balanced an astonishing career with a beautiful marriage and family. You were the proof that a woman could truly have it all, and you wouldn't give that up for any bit of real happiness. It meant too much for certain people for you to even consider it.

"Because of the fan mail. Fuck, I'd do another goddamn reality TV show again if I wasn't so worried about it messing with the kids. Alex is finally in a good place again, and shoving a camera in her face would undo it all. We're a perfect family portrait, and somehow, it's inspiring some 38 year old woman in Minnesota to start paving her own way. I don't stay with Frank for my health or because I like him, I stay because it fits the narrative," you told Emily.

She could see that you were seething. Emily passed you the rest of her cigarette, not even complaining as you rapidly inhaled it. There was always something you were chasing after. Emily had hated that about you whenever she was younger, but it was sort of inspiring now. You would have achieved her highs in half the time it took her, but Emily knew that you wouldn't have made it this long. Both of you had your fair share of secrets and vices, but yours had always come with bigger consequences.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Emily asked you.

"Let me grab my coat," you told her. Emily called a car around, and you managed to make it back right as the car pulled up.

"After you."

[synthetickitsune]

hello!! i absolutely love all of your seventeen works, your writing is so amazing 💗

i was wondering if i could request some junhui comfort where he’s home after a long time. it could be angsty, maybe leading into a little spice but you can choose the premise of where it goes! i just wanted to give the idea since we all miss him sm

thank you so much 💗 feel free to skip if it’s not okay! i just wanted to tell you that i absolutely live your writing and i come baxk to your jun works almost all the time!

Jun (SVT) | Back home fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: thank you so much, anon!! you're so sweet ♡ i hope this is okay!

He keeps bumping into furniture. He keeps having to look for snacks, little things he needs. Embarrassingly enough, he can’t remember where to put the dishes when unloading the dishwasher. 

It’s the small things that really break a man and Junhui hasn’t felt this lost and desperate in a long time. You always chuckle and reassure him it’s fine, help him figure out his way around the apartment - and he loves that. He loves that he gets to kiss you and tell you he wouldn’t survive without you and hear you laugh. Nonetheless he can’t help but feel sad that you need to do that. He doesn’t want to be a stranger in his own home. 

To be fair, it’s understandable. You made some changes - that you’ve consulted and agreed on with him - to the apartment layout, you got some new furniture, and thus stuff just had to be moved around. He remembers how long you’ve complained about getting used to it yourself, so he frankly shouldn’t be taking this as hard as he is. It’s inevitable. He must just be missing sharing the experience with you.

It piles up, though, these little frustrations, and while you’re resting on the couch one day, the television just a background noise for Jun, who’s intently listening to you talking about your day, and you mention sometimes he has no clue about - it just gets too much. You see the way his face falls and his brows furrow slightly and immediately want to make it right.

“Oh my god, I forgot to tell you about this,” you jump up and as excited as you seem to be to fill him up, he can’t match your energy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and gives you a sad half smile, “I’ve been gone for too long, right?”

Now it’s your time to frown. You shake your head and put your hand over his.

“Jun, you were working. It’s alright,” you try to reassure him.

“I know, but that’s not what I asked,” he insists. You sigh.

“You were gone for a while, yeah, but it can’t be helped,” you say calmly while you intertwine your fingers, “What’s going on?”

He shrugs. To be honest he didn’t plan to spill the beans, would rather figure it out on his own. You’re looking at him like that, though, and he doesn’t want you to worry. So he takes your other hand into his as well and turns to fully face you.

“I feel like I don’t belong here-”

“Jun-”

“No, please,” he squeezes your hands, “Just listen.”

He doesn’t know where it all came from, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out. He knows he’s rambling and probably doesn’t make sense, one half-finished sentence turning into another, yet he’s helpless to stop. Whenever he looks up, though, you’re listening and nodding along. Jun must be falling in love all over again.

“What I want to say is,” he licks his lips and lets his head fall forward. He hasn’t even noticed you got so close that he can rest it on your shoulder. He’s not complaining. “I missed you and everything feels too new.”

“I missed you too,” you wrap your arms around him, “You’ll settle in, just give it time. There’s nothing else to do. Remember how I kept stubbing my toe on the new dresser? You haven’t once, so you’re already doing better than me.”

He chuckles and finally hugs you back. “Or we can rearrange the place again. So we’re struggling again together.”

“Baby the whole point was that you’d come home and could just relax without worrying about this stuff,” you sigh. Honestly it’s more of a whine because just imagining going through the whole process feels overwhelming.

“Just the bedroom? I don’t want to feel like a stranger in there,” Jun pulls away to give you the best starving man begging for bread crumbs look he can muster. You gaslight yourself into thinking you won’t give in.

“It’s almost midnight,” you try to argue but you’re getting weaker.

“Please? It’ll be quick. We don’t need to do much,” he pleads with you.

And because you’re a fool in love, it’s now two a.m. and you’re shifting the bed closer to the windows. Music is playing softly in the background to keep you energetic. Your boyfriend keeps shushing the furniture as if it was its fault that it’s being moved when your neighbours are likely already asleep. The bedside tables are standing by the wall, judging you.

By four a.m. your bedroom looks familiar but not the same. Jun is beaming though, and that’s important.

[pelibirdie]

"A brand new year to remember"

Relationship: Kuras x (GN) reader

A/N: squint and you will see some yearning and pining between the two. Burn so slow the meat is still raw.

That being said happy late birthday to my fucked up biblically accurate guilt ridden husband

Summary: it's Kuras's birthday. Though he is not a man of celebrations, you decide to still do a small gesture for him and keep him company for his birthday.

You lounged on the sides of the clinic. The harsh smell of ointment hung in the air as Kuras treated a burn mark left from a…rather explosive celebration from the night before. By no means was it a pretty sight, but you expected such a focused face from the doctor that stitched your arms back on. His pristine white coat laid on the chair he sat on when there was too many paperwork. His hair was tied back. You could hear nothing but the sharp breaths of the patient and the light chime of his earrings. 

Kuras was a strange man. Something about him stood out like the last star on a night sky. The cruel world you knew so far seemed to not have rubbed off on the man before you. To give out free treatments and walk the streets like nothing could ever harm him… was far too strange. But it brought you comfort and made you feel safer so you decided to spend your days in Eridia helping out in his clinic. Whatever small thing you could do to take your mind off of your curse. 

“Run the water please.” 

You nodded at Kuras and made your way to the small sink of the clinic, cleaning out the bowl of ointment and the scissors. Soon enough, Kuras also came by you to wash his hands off. 

“Something on your mind?’’ 

“Well,” 

“Goodbye, doctor! Happy birthday!” The bloodhound shouted as he left. 

“It’s your birthday?!” You stared at Kuras, eyes wide with interest. He seemed to avoid your gaze, golden eyes fixating on anything but you. “Yes. I’m afraid Leander is once again making a deal out of it.” He sighed as he sat down, letting his locks fall down his tall frame. “I do not have anything against my birthday, but I’m sure you are aware of my distaste towards all the cheap drinking and the Wet Wick. You need not make a big deal out of it. Please. Big celebrations get messy often.” 

You approached him slowly, standing before where he sat. “Alright, I’m not going to ‘make a big deal out of it’. However,’’ You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently swiping away one of the strands of hair off his collarbone. “I am still your friend. And I do think it’ll be nice to step out of the clinic for one night.”  A ghost of a smile crept up its way to the renowned doctors' lips. Kuras slowly took your hand, not removing it from his shoulder. Simply holding it as he stared into your eyes. 

You must look somewhat sheepish and nervous. Because the doctors’ face went cat-ish to your reaction. Eyes turning sharp with amusement. He always had eyes that stood out, bright, golden, unnatural but captivating nonetheless. “I’d be up for that. But only for the evening.” He leaned forward onto his desk resting his right elbow on the hard wood, still holding your hand without breaking eye contact. “You can leave if you please, I doubt the amount of people who made bad decisions when drunk last night is going to lessen in the coming hour or two.” You took a step towards the desk, slowly sitting on it to remain at a higher eye level than him. “Or the third, or the fourth,” you joked.

“So much for the yearly celebrations. I suppose Eridians know how to have fun every once in a while, no?”  

Kuras shook his head “Let them have it, people barely have a good time nowadays.” His eyes fell down again. A small silence followed his words. Only then you notice small changes in his frame, his messier hair, hands dyed in some herbs he used for the ointment, and eyes more tired than usual. “And I will be there to aid them whenever they do make bad desicions.” 

You slowly moved your hand to his arm, giving small caresses to his shoulder with your thumb. Your hands were covered with the bandages, but you also had the gloves you wore around the clinic on. You were used to giving fleeting touches, but these gloves were making you bolder. You cursed in your head, paranoia slowly creeping back into your head. You took your hand off of Kuras, getting up to grab your coat for the cold winter day waiting for you outside the clinics' doors. You smiled as you opened the door, feeling the wind on your skin.

“I’ll see you tonight, doctor.”

“Stay safe, (Y/N).”

The day went by concerningly fast as you went through the market, looking through herbs, scarves, trinkets…anything to get the doctor for his birthday. At least whatever you could afford for now. You looked at the pouch you got while walking back. Staring at the gift to ensure it is safe. You quickly made your way to the Wet Wick, asking Leander for a pen and paper. Soon, you are up in your room writing away. It doesn't occur to you that the sun has set until the Wet Wick starts getting unbearably loud. You run down with your jacket and your gift, dodging the crowd around the bar. “Hey (Y/N)! Have you seen Kuras?’ Leander called from the other side of the Wick, “No sorry!” was all you could shout before making it out of the Wet Wick. 

You sped through the streets. Though it was not safe to wander at night, you had hoped at least your pace and the lit-up streets would make getting to the clinic easier for you. But all thought came to a halt as you heard a wet, crunching noise. A noise of bones being broken and flesh being torn. A noise too familiar. Suddenly you were sprinting, checking behind you every once in a while until you ran face-first to someone. “I didn’t expect you to be this excited.” You breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing his tall frame. Sensing you are shaken up, Kuras held you by your shoulders. “Be not afraid, I am here. Let’s walk towards more light.” 

“Ah, sorry about the scare Kuras. I heard something then-” 

“It is alright, (Y/N). What matters is you are safe.”

Conversation takes over the two of you as you walk and wander through Eridia. Seeing the Amaryllis District's colorful decorations from the celebrations before, sensing the strong smell of fried dough and hearing the shouts of vendors from the stalls, tasting some swirly eridian desert with cinnamon in it (though Kuras seemed to lose the pastry the moment he hold it, leaving you confused as you did not even see him take a bite) the night came to a calm point. 

So far you had discussed about Eridia, how you had somewhat adapted to the city, the celebration yesterday, and certain interesting things you noticed in Kuras’s practice. The conversation gave itself away to peaceful silence as you stood on the bridge between Hightown and Lowtown. Somewhere far in Hightown, you could hear the faint sound of a lute being played. The nights were much less chaotic here. 

“So, how old are you now?”

“Old.” 

“Oh come on, I know that already-”

“Oh are you saying I look old?”

“Kuras!” 

He chuckles to himself as he leans on one of the statues. The night is clear, the stars are bright, and the wind is gentler than it was that afternoon. You take out the pouch and the letter, holding them out to Kuras.

“Happy birthday, Kuras. I hope this year is better than the previous ones.” 

Kuras’s gaze meets your own, his golden eyes and jewelry contrasting the bright moonlight, his hair ticking his face and neck. Kuras looks almost glowing as he takes the items from your hands. “You didn’t need to.” “It was about wanting to. And I did. But please read that letter when I’m not around.” you scratched your neck and looked back at the sky. Kuras blinked, once looking at his full hands and then at you. Suddenly choosing to move much closer to you, until his white coat is touching the warm wool of the cloak he got you when you first came to Eridia. 

“Thank you. (Y/N). I have lost track of my many birthdays, but your presence makes this celebration one to remember.” 

…It felt quite warm all of a sudden. 

[butchcarmy]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 1: onions, weed, and pizza

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 2 ch 3 ch 4

Summary: Carmy can’t put into words how he feels about his roommate. It’s only been a couple months, but here he is looking forward to going home and sharing a smoke with them. That’s all it is, though. There are no underlying feelings, none at all, even if everyone around him has something to say about it. 

Or: Carmy is repressed as ever, but through the combined power of vulnerability, weed, and the horny, Carmy too can find love. 

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, cursing, yearning, repression, SO MUCH REPRESSION, angst, mental illness, canon-typical imagery, unresolved tension, for now, virgin carmy, use of weed, alcohol, all that good stuff, carmy character study, eventual smut, gender neutral reader, nonbinary reader, up to you

A/N: HI I've never posted fic on tumblr before but i deeply love Carmy...please enjoy!!!

CHAPTER 1: onions, weed, and pizza

It always stays the same. 

This is the thought that Carmy has when he wakes up, gasping for a chance to just catch his breath and keep it. It’s a kitchen knife twisting like a lock and key in his chest. It fits just right, as all awful and familiar things seem to do.

No matter how many times he wakes up, he’s never anywhere different. That drowning feeling suffocates him in his sleep and follows dutifully into his waking hours. He can’t remember when that haunting started, only that it’s always been with him.

He hates feeling like a drifter, like he’s lost (even though he is both of those things), so he picks a goal and runs after it like a monster. He’s an animal, hunting and working and bleeding until he fucking makes it work , because that’s who he is, and that’s who he’s always been. He can’t not make it work. Because if he can’t do it, then…then what was it all for? 

What is he even for?

These are the thrilling thoughts that serve as the background music to the swirl of his cheap morning coffee, oils rotating in a slow circle. He thinks about getting a nicer brand next time he goes grocery shopping. But that would mean change. That would mean less money on the restaurant, too.

Yeah, so it tastes like shit, but it doesn’t matter. Even if it mattered once. Less and less matters to him these days.

Mornings in Chicago are not technically quiet by definition, but when compared to other times of day, they are. Especially when most of his day is spent in the kitchen wringing out his throat. It isn’t bad to have a quiet morning by normal means, but for him…

The quiet is dangerous.

It’s not silent, but it’s not enough. There’s distant beeping of impatient cars. The whirring sound of the old AC unit. He tries to listen to them, but his rampant thoughts nonetheless rise above them all, buzzing everywhere with nowhere to land. 

A brief analysis of his thoughts reads as such:

Beef sandwiches eggs flour shipment Michael cigarettes smoking sore throat late shipment so tired not sleeping Michael Sugar Mom coffee tastes bad it’s too early my stomach hurts Michael fucking hates you Michael Michael Michael Michael Michael you piece of shit you fucking ki—

“Mornin’, Carmy.”

Until his roommate wakes up, that is. 

When he moved back to Chicago, there was a fact, plain, simple, and unchanging. He wasn’t gonna make rent on his own, not with the restaurant. Not with everything. So maybe he didn’t need to deal with a new roommate, but it’s not like there was a choice. It seemed bearable, survivable enough.

He keeps waiting for the thing that’ll make him grit his teeth, make him regret not getting a place on his own, but it never comes. They’re easy to live with. It’s so easy, as a matter of fact, that it feels strange. The difficulty that he was so certainly expecting just isn’t there. 

If anything, he looks forward to being at home. For someone who lives at work, that feeling is completely foreign.  

They don’t steal his food (not that there’s much). Instead, they cook him food, leaving heated leftovers on the stove on late nights. In Carmy’s case, that’s most nights. They don’t bring over obnoxious company and keep him up with the noise. Rather, he basks in their company, and they make a ruckus between their laughter. Their presence doesn’t stifle him, it soothes him, just like the candle they leave lit in the kitchen for him when he comes home.  They’re not just easy to live with, they’re good to live with, and that’s…

That’s been a hard adjustment, Carmy would say. It’s too much of a good thing that he’s not sure what to do with himself.

On those late nights, they’re usually fast asleep by the time he’s home. But as he sits and eats the leftovers they’ve kept for him, he wants to say something. Something about how a long time ago, there was once a Carmy who cooked for himself, who looked after himself, but that he’s not that Carmy anymore. That it doesn’t matter that he’s a five star chef and they’re just some guy in the kitchen, as they would put it, because he’s…

He’s grateful. Incredibly so.

And yet, the words will never come out. He feels the words tingling on his lips, but it feels scary. He can thank them as many times as he likes (which he does) but it will never capture what he’s really trying to say when he says thank you . There’s too many words, and it just can’t…it just can’t—

It always stays the same. 

“You’re up early,” he says to them when they enter the room. It’s a rare sight to see them up at the early hours he frequents. He sees the morning drowsiness in their mussed hair and big t-shirt stained with hair dye. They yawn back at him, nose scrunching.

Cute , he thinks, and he stamps it down as soon as it flashes through his mind. 

“Randomly woke up.” They fall into the empty seat next to him on the couch, and they rub at the crust around their eyes. “About to head off to work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he replies. There’s a certain sentiment that lies on the tip of his tongue, something about how he wishes he could have a slow morning with them instead. Of course, he can’t voice it. He can’t even come close.

“The plague of the working man,” they sigh. “Well, I got an idea that might cheer you up.”

“...And that would be?”

“Let me paint you a beautiful picture,” they start. They clear their throat and gesture widely with their hands. He notices their chipped nail polish, the writing callus on their middle finger. “Imagine this—you come home from work, tired. You need to relax —something you need to do more often,” they add with a pointed look.  No comment. “And I have dinner ready. Some sort of soup, pasta maybe. I need to check the fridge.” They pause with a yawn. “And before we eat, we smoke a big, fat joint.”

He snorts as they finish, unable to hold back a laugh. 

“That’s a nice picture,” he admits. He doesn’t remember when he started smiling. “Y’know, I was wondering when the joint was gonna pop in.” 

“You fucking know me, man,” they reply, blooming with his interest, his smile. Not that he can perceive that. “So? Thoughts? Haven’t done that in a while, right?”

“Right, right,” he echoes faintly. His mind is already sorting through the pile of tasks on the schedule. “Well, I gotta go over this new recipe with Marcus, today,” he mutters, partially under his breath. “But before that, ingredient orders. And those invoices before the end of the day—and that, that toilet guy was supposed to come today…I think?”

“Dude, I do like, one task, and the day’s over for me,” they say sympathetically, and the look on their face is so serious that Carmy struggles to hide his smile. “You’re crazy.”

“I, I’ve seen you do tasks,” he argues. 

“Name one,” they argue back.

“You did two loads of laundry and did the dishes all before lunch time once,” he says, the memory clear and instant. “And when I woke up, you were vacuuming the whole place.” The immediacy surprises him, and it seems to surprise them, too. 

“Damn, I said name one , but I guess I’m just that good!” They laugh, a breathy, exasperated sort of thing. “Well, point taken. Anyway, it sounds like you’re not gonna be home early tonight.” 

“It is a Friday,” he says, “but…”

“But.”

“Can’t make promises I can’t keep,” he sighs, and shame melts over him like butter on a stainless steel pain. This isn’t anything new. 

“I know, I know,” they say, gracious as ever. “It’s okay. Such is the life of a business owner, yeah?” He searches for some thinly veiled shred of disappointment, frustration in their expression, but he doesn’t. No matter how many times he lets them down, the explosion he’s waiting for never comes. They remain patient, collected through it all. 

Says more about him than them, he supposes. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, “such is the life.” 

“C’est la fucking vie,” they say, and he laughs with a shake of his head. 

It can feel strange to laugh. He worries that the lightness in his chest will expand like a balloon, and he’ll float away. It’s uncontrollable, foreign. It should be scary, how his emotions lead him when he’s around them, not the other way around, but it’s not. 

It’s not scary to loosen up around them, and that’s the scary part. There are no words to describe why. All he can see is that the fear exists, stubborn and persistent. That fear is what makes him snap out of it, makes him look at the clock. He holds back a sigh. 

“Time to go,” he mutters, and they nod.

“And time for me to go back to bed.” They salute him. “Best of luck with your day, brave soldier. And just shoot me a text if you do end up coming back early, ok?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll try. And, thanks. You, you too,” he gets out. He stands up, readjusting the waistband of his pants. “I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“See you,” they say through a yawn, waving at him from where they’re lying down. They’ve taken his spot, sprawled across the couch, tangled hair flayed out on the pillows. 

Cute , he thinks again, and hearing the thought in his brain makes him wanna panic. 

He doesn’t wanna panic, doesn’t wanna think about it at all, so he nods, shuts the door, and heads out to work with a cigarette hastily lit in his mouth. 

By the time it’s Carmy’s lunch break, he swears his vocal cords must have snapped by how tight he was wringing them. 

The soreness has never stopped him from lighting a cig, though. As he stands outside in the back, finally forced to go on his 30, he smokes rather than eating. There’s a sandwich in his pocket, one that was bearing the brunt of test ingredients. He can feel the aluminum wrapping at his fingertips. 

Eventually, he does eat, though, because he sees the way his hands are shaking when he flicks his lighter. He doesn’t wanna shake when he uses a knife, so he eats. He tastes it, but he doesn’t really taste it.

In truth, he wasn’t even planning on taking his lunch break at all. Most days, he forgets about it. The kitchen’s always busy, there’s always something missing, there’s always something that hasn’t been prepped that’s ruining everything, the lights in the hallways keep flickering because they need to fixed, Fak’s supposed to fix them, but he can’t, because Richie’s still out getting the replacement bulbs, the pile of papers on his desk are bigger than he remembers, he doesn’t have enough fucking time—

But then he’s in the middle of chopping an onion, and the cutting board slips. The half-chopped onion and its sliced offspring scatter on the floor with the cutting board. The sound of its fall draws Sydney in like a whip. 

“You okay? Need a bandaid?” Sydney’s already kneeling by him, helping him pick the onions off the floor. 

“I, I’m fine, didn’t drop the knife,” he explains, and it feels like an ocean current is rushing by his ears. “Fucking, I just—such a stupid fucking—” He sucks in a breath and goes silent. 

His entire body feels tight, wound like a spring. He can barely fucking breathe. 

“Hey.” Carmy turns his intense stare from the onions to Sydney, and when he sees her searching expression, he remembers himself. “Maybe you should go take your lunch break.”

“No, I’m fine, really,” he repeats, and he feels like he’s heard this before. From someone else. He can’t remember. Who was it? “The onions—we’re behind on onions—”

“I can handle onions for 30 minutes,” she interrupts, decisive and firm. “Seriously.”

Carmy’s about to say something, but then he’s looking at the onion half in his hand. His hand is shaking. 

“Okay,” he sighs after a beat. “Okay, yeah. Sorry. For fucking up.”

“It happens. We all have our moments.” She shrugs. When he keeps standing there, she makes this shoo-ing motion with her hand. “Go on. Take your 30!”

So here he is, taking his lunch break a whole hour later than he’s supposed to. Although it’s better than most days where he doesn’t take it at all.

She wouldn’t have had to tell you to take a break if you didn’t fuck it all up, he thinks to himself, eyebrows knitted together. When the last time I’ve fucked up something so fucking easy?

He thinks about his dream from last night. A familiar sight of red fire and flames up to the ceiling, crackling so loud it sounded like screaming. The only good part is that when he woke up, he wasn’t at the stove burning his place down. It hasn’t happened at this apartment yet. Carmy hopes it never happens. 

Just get it together, he thinks. He aggressively taps the ash out onto the decrepit ash tray they have in the back. It’s full. You’re supposed to be at this shit. So just be good.

“Cousin.” Carmy snaps his head up, and Richie’s at the door, stepping out. His presence yanks him out of his inner whirlpool, a quickly descending spiral. “Gimme one.”

Wordlessly, Carmy hands him a cigarette. Richie plucks it out of his hand like a flower.

“You had a lighter, but no cigarette?” Carmy comments, squinting at Richie pulling a busted up red lighter from his jean pocket. 

“Shut up,” Richie mutters, but there’s no heat behind it. “Got the wrong damn light bulbs,” he explains unprompted. 

“Alright,” Carmy sighs. He has so little energy that the frustration bypasses him completely, diving instantly into deflated acceptance. “Just return ‘em.”

“Can’t,” Richie says, and when Carmy gives him a look, he elaborates, “no receipt.” 

“ Dude .” Carmy opens his mouth, but then he shuts it again. It’s just not worth it. “Thanks anyway, cousin. We’ll get it done.”

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, you asshole. I didn’t do shit.” Richie nudges him, but like before, it’s not an angry thing. “Also, toilet guy’s not comin’ today.”

“The fuck? Why ?”

“Canceled,” he replies simply. 

“Fucking hell,” Carmy mutters under his breath. “Did he say when he could reschedule?”

“Not yet.”

“Great.”

“Yep.” Richie tilts his head up, blowing out a slow stream of gray cigarette smoke. “Might as well wait for Fak to get his ass back in town at this rate.”

“I guess.” Carmy sighs. He thinks about all the things he still needs to do. “I dropped this onion I was chopping, earlier,” he mentions out of nowhere. 

“Okay.” Richie gives him a look. “And? You bitches chop those things up faster than I could cut one in half.” 

“I dropped it on the floor,” Carmy tries again, but Richie’s expression remains unchanged. “I never do shit like that.”

“Well, cousin, you did.” Carmy feels something in him deflate. “What’s the big deal?”

“Nevermind,” he replies, because he’s a coward. “Just—just forget it.”

Silence. The spark of a lighter. 

“I’m gonna leave early,” Richie says, like he can just do that. Which…he can, Carmy supposes. “If no one’s gonna show up, what’s the point?” He slaps Carmy’s back, and Carmy doesn’t watch him as he heads back inside. 

Guess all I need to do later is get rid of those papers on the desk , Carmy thinks to himself, idly moving the shortening cigarette between his lips. Then that’ll be it, I guess.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gone home early. It’s hard to even imagine what he does on days like those. Sleeping, probably.  There’s nothing much else for him to do, not with how tired he is—

Shoot me a text, okay?  

He hears them in the back of his head all of a sudden, and he remembers. 

Oh, he remembers, hands moving to take out his phone. Almost forgot.

“Sorry to bother you, chef.” Carmy’s not sure how he didn’t hear the door opening. Marcus’ head pops out, nose covered in flour. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re gonna need more flour for tomorrow.”

“Order’s not gonna come for a couple days. I thought we had an extra bag left,” Carmy tries, but the guilty look on Marcus’ face explains it all. 

“Dropped it,” Marcus grimaces, and Carmy’s already fucking over it. 

“We’re all fucking up today, chef,” Carmy replies, and the day goes on. 

. . . . .

It’s a strange, delightful miracle, but he manages to get out of the restaurant before the sun sets.

Considering their collective track record, the fact everyone was able to leave early was cosmic intervention. It helps that the toilet guy didn’t come, in an unfortunate way, but still. Standing outside of the restaurant in the evening like this feels…weird. 

It’s not that Carmy’s complaining about a nice thing, it’s just that he wasn’t prepared to have anything good today.

Shower, dinner, and weed, he thinks absentmindedly on the way home. He juggles the three around in his brain. Just the thought of it feels like relaxing. A little.

With company , his brain helpfully adds, and his stomach squirms. 

Self control, he thinks. He needs more self-control. He can’t just keep thinking of them so indulgently. He’s not allowed to think of them that way, because it’s not fair to them. Even if no matter how many times he chastises himself, it never works. Even if they remain in his brain like sun-spots in his vision. Even if it’s not his fault that he just can’t help it.

The thing is, though, it always is. Even when it’s not his fault, it actually is. Always.

You dropped that fucking onion , his brain helpfully adds for no particular reason. Fucking loser.

Fuck off , he thinks back as he approaches his front door. Predictably, it does not stop.

Just as his fingers search for his keys in all of his pockets, he hears something that makes him pause, hands stopped on his waist. It’s music, distant and muffled. They’re probably listening to music in the kitchen. He stands, trying to place the song, but he doesn’t recognize it. 

He does recognize the voice that’s singing over the music, though.

Oh, he realizes. That’s them.

The way their voice clumsily layers over the music shouldn’t make him pause like this. He shouldn’t be doing this, standing in the doorway and listening rather than opening the door. The keys are in his hand. This, this is a breach of privacy, he tells himself, feeling a little dizzy with distress, he just needs to just—

There’s an abrupt, loud clang, and he shoves the door open.

Concern is on the tip of his tongue, but it dies there. The source of the noise lays face-down on the floor—a pan sitting in what seems to be tomato sauce. The matter next to it is what makes the words evaporate from his lips, like they were never there at all. 

They’re kneeled down next to the pan, paper towels in hand, but all they’re wearing is an apron. 

His mind blanks. He thinks he stops breathing. He’s never seen so much of their skin at once. He needs to look away, he thinks, but his eyes keep traveling, traveling, and traveling. It just happens so quickly. He doesn’t mean to look, he doesn’t, but they’re right there and he can see right down their—

“No, I—I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were coming back early!” They exclaim, quickly crossing their arms over their chest, and that’s what makes him tear his eyes away. 

“I—I thought I texted you,” he says quickly, hot face turned to the side, “on my lunch—...“ He stops there, the memory reconstructing itself. 

He forgot.

“It’s fine, I just feel bad about dinner, and, uh—okay, I’m just gonna change real quick, and then I’ll clean this up,” they reply, words rushing out. In the corner of his vision, he sees their bare legs dart to their room.

It seems wrong to just stand here staring at the tomato sauce slowly expand outwards on the floor, so he cleans it up. A couple paper towels later, he’s gotten most of it, and they’ve returned with a change of clothes.

“Sorry,” Carmy starts right as they also go “I’m sorry”. He pauses, meeting their eyes. It’s a lot easier now that they’re wearing leggings and a t-shirt as opposed to, well, nothing. Not to say he doesn’t appreciate the leggings. 

“Sorry you had to see me like that,” they sigh. “I don’t—I don’t usually walk around the place naked, I just—I didn’t think you’d be back—“

“I should’ve texted,” he interrupts. He struggles to not think about them walking around the living room naked. “I forgot. But it, it’s fine. You’re fine. Really. Sorry for not texting.”

“Okay. Cool.” They exhale, a tired noise. “And it’s okay. It happens.” They look at the floor and make a sound of surprise. “Did you clean this up?” The look they give him has far too much gratitude, and it feels like a searing hot iron.

“Yeah, uh.” His hands are moving like he’s trying to explain something, but no words crop up. “Felt weird not to.”

“Well.” They smile, grateful. “Thank you. That was gonna be dinner, but…” They trail off, looking at the floor with a sour expression. “I fucked up.”

“It’s just that sort of day today,” Carmy mutters.

“Shitty day for you, too?” 

“Yeah. Lots of shit went wrong.” Especially me, he thinks, but he doesn’t say it. “You?”

“Gotcha.” They shrug. “As for me—yeah. Really not my best day. It was just, uh, some family shit. You know how it is.”

Carmy makes a sound of acknowledgement. “That sucks.” He doesn’t know much about their family other than that they’re fairly shitty. It’s the same the other way around, too. 

“It’s whatever,” they say, even though it really isn’t, and he knows it. They look at the floor one more time before looking up at him. “Do you just wanna order pizza or something?”

“Yeah, I do,” Carmy replies, his words coming out much more despondent than expected. 

They settle on some pepperoni pizza from a place down the street. It’s a tried and true method—they deliver, it’s cheap, it’s oily, it’s cheesy, it’s good. Just talking about it makes Carmy taste it on the tip of his tongue. 

“You can go and shower if you want. I’ll get the door when pizza comes,” they offer. They’re standing at the sink, sleeves rolled up. 

“Okay, thanks.” Carmy pauses then, gears turning. He’s vaguely worried his memory is going to shit. “Did—did I just say I was gonna shower?” 

“Oh, no, you didn’t, you just always shower when you get home from work, right?” They say it like it’s the weather, like it’s familiar, and that’s when Carmy realizes because it is. After several months of living together, of course they’ve picked up on his habits. It doesn’t need to be a thing. There’s no reason for it to be a thing.

“I do,” Carmy replies faintly, and for some reason, that’s all he can say. 

“Thought so.” They look at him for just a moment, but it makes him feel like his body’s gone transparent. “I notice these things, you know.”

“Yeah.” Carmy looks at them when they turn back to the dishes, back facing him. “You do.” 

He tells himself he’s not gonna think any harder about any of it. He’s not gonna think about the singing, the apron, the way they just notice these things, but then he does. 

He’s in the shower, and he thinks about everything.

The water pressure is pathetic, but the warmth still feels nice. Between that and the sound of the running shower, it’s usually enough to quiet his thoughts. This time, though, it doesn’t. To his credit, he does try to think about anything else. 

He thinks about work, because he always does. He thinks about flour, about onions, about knives. He thinks about the shampoo lathered in his hair. He thinks about those lightbulbs they still need to get. He thinks about food. He thinks about them. He thinks about pizza. He thinks about the way they sing when no one’s around. He thinks about the way they know him. 

He thinks about them, knees on the floor only in a—

He thinks of bashing his head into the tile wall until he explodes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers to himself, rivulets of hot water trailing down his forehead and dripping off his lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

The soreness is still present in his body, but that never quite goes away. He does feel a bit better now that he doesn’t have sweaty, sticky skin, though. It gets even better when he puts on a clean white t-shirt and his favorite sweatpants. It’s a nice surprise from his past self who did his laundry for him. 

This amount of niceness is okay. This is what he’s used to—a shower and comfortable clothes when he’s home from work. That’s enough.

He steps out into the kitchen with a damp towel on his head. He finds them sitting by their one shitty window that opens, pizza box in front of them and joint lit. It casts an orange glow to mix with the golden light from the window. 

“Hey, pizza’s here!” They slap their hand on the greasy cardboard box. “Just got this joint started for us, too.”

“So you weren’t gonna smoke it all on your own?” He doesn’t mean to tease, but he does. He slips into the seat across them, arms resting on the table they placed by the window. 

“I couldn’t smoke this whole thing even if I wanted to,” they protest. “Besides, joints are made for sharing. Here—now you get to take it. Isn’t that nice?” With their elbow propped up on the pizza box, they hold up the joint to him. The lit end of it sizzles a bright orange, emitting a thin trail of smoke up to the ceiling. 

“That is very, very nice,” Carmy agrees, taking it carefully from their fingers. Their face spreads into that contagious grin of theirs, and he’s far from immune. Sometimes he smiles so much around them that his face hurts, rusty and unused. 

Sure, he can blame that on the weed, but if he’s being honest with himself (a rare occasion), that’s a complete lie. Obviously the weed lessens the tension, the stress that winds him up tight. It’s not just the weed that gets him to relax, though. 

It’s them. There’s something disarming about their presence, something that makes him loose-lipped around them. Even when he’s sober, he finds himself feeling comfortable. He’s not quite sure how that happened, or if that’s ever happened. He supposes that isn’t a bad thing. Just something he’s noticed. 

He wonders if they’ve noticed. 

“You like the new rolling papers?” They tuck their knees under their chin, propping their feet up on the chair. 

“Hm.” Carmy lowers the joint from his mouth to give it a good look. He rotates it around in his fingers. “Strawberry?”

“Yeah, it’s strawberry,” they confirm, poorly hiding the excitement in their demeanor. Not that they were trying to. “Can you taste it?” 

He pulls from the joint, the edges of the paper sizzling red with the weed. It’s an even burn this time. He rolls his tongue around in his mouth after he exhales a cloud of smoke. 

“Still no,” he decides after a beat, and they sigh. 

“I don’t know why I ever get my hopes up.”

“I do taste something else in this, though.” He takes another hit, stews on it. “Lavender?”

“Shoulda known you would’ve gotten it on your first tray. Yeah, it’s lavender. I found some lying around.”

“You made this one pretty nice,” he observes, eyes tracing the shape of the joint. “Between the lavender and the new papers, I mean.”

“Well, y’know.” The smile on their face is small and shy. “I don’t smoke joints often, so I wanted to make it nice, and I, uh…”

They’re paused for so long that Carmy interjects. 

“And?”

“And I—want that joint,” they finally say, outstretching their hand. Carmy has a strong feeling that they weren’t originally going to say that, but he hands over the joint nonetheless.

“Strain?” He asks curiously. He can feel the body high creeping up his shoulders, fluid and light.

“The strain that gets you high,” they reply with a grin.

“Oh, thank god,” Carmy sighs in relief, and the way that makes them laugh… It makes his chest tight. 

“To actually answer your question, though—I dunno.” He likes watching the smoke drift from the tip of the joint as they talk, thin gray wisps in the air. “I think it’s a hybrid? Not sure if it’s more one way or not, though…”

“As long as it’s not the weed that puts you to bed.”

“Um…well, if you smoke enough of it, it can.”

They sit together like this for a while, just sitting and taking turns with the joint. It’s an easy, fluid exchange, flowing between them like smoke. No matter how much they both try to blow it out the window, it always comes back in. The smell of weed is strong in the air, earthy and pungent.  

Although he would never describe himself as a talkative person, sitting stoned across from them makes the words come out. Sometimes, he thinks he likes himself better when he’s high—his mind isn’t running circles around itself, and the soreness of his body just floats away. He feels more like a human than a poor imitation of one like he usually does. 

This weed smells kinda good, he thinks, and when they laugh, nose scrunched up, he realizes he said that out loud. 

“That’s literally what I’ve been saying,” they agree, a bright grin lingering on their face. “That’s how you know you’re a fuckin’ stoner!” 

“Feels weird to call myself a stoner,” he muses. He plucks the joint from their outstretched hand. It definitely looks shorter from when they started a moment ago. “But I guess…”

“If you like the smell of weed, you’re too far gone,” they say with a grave expression. “It’s so fucking over for you.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, equally as serious, and then they’re both bursting out into laughter. He likes the sound of their laugh—it’s unabashed, fills up the space. 

“Dude, I’m high,” they whisper after they both calm down, like it’s some sort of secret, and Carmy can’t stop himself from laughing all over again. “Oh my god. Are you high?”

“I—I think I might fucking be,” he gets out between laughs, and that sparks them straight into another cackle of laughter. He’s not supposed to be able to make others laugh, he doesn’t even make himself laugh—but then he’ll say something, and they’re lit up with laughter. 

“We need to eat this pizza now, ” they yell, projecting over their combined noise. They flip the pizza box open, and it smacks Carmy right in the face. 

“Oh,” he reacts mildly.

“Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine, it’s not like you punched me in the face,” he reasons, but their guilty expression persists. “It didn’t hurt, it’s just cardboard.”

“I’m sorry, I’m high,” they sigh apologetically. 

“I know,” he replies with a little smile. His eyes drift down to the pepperoni pizza sitting before them, glorious in its perverse amount of oil. “So, we’re gonna eat this, right?”

“Oh my god, yes we are,” they gasp, and the moment is forgotten. 

When he tears off a pizza slice, the cheese stretches in thin, gooey strings. They grab the slice adjacent to it to snap the strings in half, but they’re both leaned back in their chairs, pizzas in hand, and the cheese is still connected. 

“This doesn’t seem right,” Carmy mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We should’ve just cut it.”

“How could we have predicted this?” They pull their pizza further back, and the string still doesn’t break. “Wow. I’m honestly impressed. I don’t think it’s ever been this insane before.”

“I think we’d remember.” He’s not sure why he’s still talking and not just running his finger across the string to break it. 

“I think we would, too.” They snort, shaking their head. “This—this is some spaghetti type shit.”

“What? Spaghetti?” He’s genuinely perplexed.

“I—I mean like—that fucking disney movie. With the dogs.” They pause for a moment, mouth silently moving. “Fucking—lady and the, the truck—”

“Uh.” He has to hold back a laugh. “...The lady and the tramp?”

“ Holyshittheladyandthetramp ,” they blurt out in a rush, and the cheese string finally snaps in half. “…Well, I guess it’s not exactly like the lady and the tramp, then.” They take a large bite of their pizza, and it reminds Carmy exactly how hungry he is. 

“You mean lady and the truck,” he corrects, and he can’t stop himself from smiling. Especially not with how good this hot pizza is, delightfully salty and greasy in his mouth. 

“Shut up, I was trying,” they grunt through a mouthful of food. 

“How exactly is this like the lady and the tramp, again? Or, uh, not like it?” 

“Well, it was just like it, but then the string broke.” Somehow, they’re already halfway through their slice. “Could’ve been a beautiful spaghetti moment.”

“Spaghetti moment,” he echoes under his breath, holding back a laugh. “Remind me how that scene goes?”

They go quiet for a moment. It’s like he can see the gears turning in his head. If he’s being honest, he already remembers how that scene goes, but…he wants to hear them say it. He needs to hear them say it. 

“Uh, well, they’re…eating spaghetti. The titular lady and tramp.”  Their eyes are fidgety, flickering back and forth between their pizza and the window. “And they’re sharing the plate, the two of them. They’re eating together, and, um…” 

“...And?” 

They meet his eyes, mouth hanging open, and then they close it. 

“Um, I don’t remember, actually,” they say, shaking their head and blinking. He sees it for the blatant lie that it is, and yet. “Do, do you remember?”

As he stares back at them, unable to look away, he wonders. He wonders about what this really means. About if this really means anything at all, about if he’s going to find out if it does. 

“I don’t remember,” he answers quietly, cowardly, and neither of them say anything else.

Out of the two of them, they’ve always been better with recovering from awkward moments, so they do. They start talking about something else, and the world keeps turning. But in the back of his head, Carmy remains in that moment, unwilling to let it go. 

Why did you say that you didn’t remember? He wants to say. Why didn’t I say that I remembered how it went? Because I remember. They kiss—they fucking kiss. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what I wanted to hear?

But because he’s Carmy, he doesn’t say anything. He just eats.

He’s so hungry that the pizza disappears in minutes. It’s delicious, but he’s so high he’s not completely sure he can taste it. Somehow, it remains the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

The rest of the night is a blur. He remembers getting onto the couch at some point. They both decide on a random movie he doesn’t catch the name of. They finish off the joint on the couch together, sinking into its cushions. It burns hot in his throat as it reaches the end. 

And as it turns out, the weed he smoked is the one that puts him to bed. 

“...Ca…Car…” Someone’s calling him. “...Carmy, c’mon. You’re gonna complain about your neck tomorrow if you keep sleeping here.”

“Mhm,” he replies helpfully. He turns his head into the cushion. His body feels like an abstract blob, perfectly molded into the couch cushions.

“Okay, you made a good point. But. ” They laugh quietly, under their breath. “Movie’s been over for like 20 minutes now.”

“Mhm,” he repeats, nearly inaudible. He doesn’t wanna get up. Whenever he falls asleep, it always feels like he’s never gotten an hour of sleep in his life. There’s nothing he needs to think about, worry about. He’s warm and comfortable, and he doesn’t feel like letting that go just yet.

Everything goes silent again for a moment, save for the cars on the road. He begins to drift away again, slipping back into his dreamless sleep. 

But then there’s a hand on his shoulder, and it’s like a smoking brand on his skin. His eyes fly open and he jolts awake, jerking upright. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” they apologize, fretful. Between the dark of night and haze of sleep, they look pretty different. The blue light from the television is streaked across the blurry planes of their face.

“It’s fine,” he replies, drowsy. Speaking feels…heavy. Begrudgingly, he adjusts to sit up. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Weed,” they say with a shrug. 

“How, how long was I—?” He cuts himself off with a yawn, wide with condensation in the corners of his eyes. 

“Only like, 30 minutes.” They yawn back. Typical infectious yawning. “End of the movie sucked anyway.”

“Oh.” Pause. “What was the ending?”

“Love interest died,” they state plainly. “He told her about how he felt, got rejected, and then she died in a car accident. Pretty tragic.”

“Huh.” Carmy makes a face. “That does suck.”

“Yeah, a bit.” They’re idly fiddling with the remote, scrolling through Netflix without reading anything. “I feel like the movie was trying to say something profound about the unpredictability of life or something, but the writing was shit.”

“I guess it’d be too perfect if they got together,” he muses.

“I guess,” they echo. They turn off the tv, and the room goes dark. The only light is from the yellow street lamp right outside their window, wonderful in its inconvenient placement. It illuminates the shape of the back and leaves their face in shadow. “I think I remember how that scene went,” they say suddenly. 

“Oh.” Carmy’s heart feels stuck in his throat. “And how does it go?”

“Well, they’re—both eating spaghetti. Like I said.” They’re not facing him, leaving their face shrouded in shadow. He’s not sure if he’s imagining the shake in their voice or not. It’s beyond him why there would be any shakiness at all. “They somehow get the same noodle, so they, uh, kiss.”

“They kiss,” he repeats for some unknown reason.

“Yeah.” They let out a quick laugh, but it doesn’t sound like they actually find this funny. He wishes he could see the look on their face. 

“I don’t think pasta works like that,” he hears himself murmur faintly. For some reason, he can’t help but think that was the wrong thing to say. But he’s already said it. Maybe it’s the same reason as to why his heart is beating so urgently. 

“No, I, I don’t think so either,” they mumble. He refuses to place the way they’re feeling. 

I can’t fucking do this.

The thought resounds like a gong, hit with a mallet right next to his ear. 

“It’s late, I gotta head to bed.” It feels like someone else is speaking for him, moving his body for him. He can’t stop them. When he stands up, he avoids their face.

What the fuck are you doing?

Another thought resounds. He doesn’t respond.

“Right, I—didn’t even notice the time.” He pretends he doesn’t hear the strain in their voice. No, he didn’t word that right—there is no strain in their voice. “G’night.”

"Night,” he murmurs back.

This is enough, he tells himself as he falls into bed. His sheets are tangled. This is enough , he repeats, and it’s not because he’s scared, afraid, anxious, or any other stupid synonym. It’s because he believes it, needs to believe it. 

He tells himself, this is enough , even though he wonders, what is supposed to be enough? He doesn’t listen. He stamps down the protests, the thoughts that are out of line. The high usually helps with that, but it’s worn off, now just leaving him in a weary, sleepy state of things. 

This is enough, he thinks, and he falls asleep looking at their shrouded face behind his eyelids.

[mullermilkshake]

People would assume

Part 8 <- Part 9 -> Part 10

Three years later.

It's been a few years, things have changed.

Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader Tags - Flirting, heavy petting, established relationship

<- Masterlist

“It shouldn’t have gotten this far, it’s ridiculous.” 

“We apologise sir, we don’t know how he managed it.” 

“How the hell did he get the key to that elevator?”  

“We’ll conduct that investigation sir-” 

“No. I’ll do it myself; this entire high rise has done enough.” It was the first and only time you had seen Satoru lose his cool entirely. The poor foreman was about to cry from the redness around his eyes and quiver of his lip. 

You recalled that night over and over. Always that night and the sight of Nanami’s furious face smashed into the carpet, heaving away and cursing under his breath wouldn’t ever leave you, not for your entire life.

The disastrous night, the same comforting touch from Satoru wrapped in all that darkness of the wine closet and that coffin of a room by the elevator door that you refused to enter after. It was perfectly enough to haunt your memories that penetrated your sleep. Over and over again.

Over and over.

Over and over. 

You jolted awake, as you usually did when the nightmares got bad, your heart racing like a miniature bass drum inside your skull. The clock read only past one in the morning, you must have nodded off, your laptop sat across the bed still open on an account you were working on.

The bed was empty besides the electronics.

Still working this late? 

You clambered out of bed and pulled your robe off the back of the door, the silk was icy to the touch, the window had cooled it letting in the winter air to prick at your skin away from the bed's warmth. It didn’t shelter you, but covered you up nonetheless to keep your modesty.

'Meow!' Sashimi stretched out across the bedroom desk, his tail draped off lazily and swung like a metronome.

He'd gotten more cocky in the last year after moving into the house, he had more room to move and rule the roost being cooed over by every damn visitor who gave him the time of day. He was partial to scaring you on the stairs if he wasn't sleeping. Lazy boy.

"See you in the morning baby." He loved a chin scratch.

Descending the stairs and padding down the hall, you heard noises, the office door was ajar letting out the low amber glow from inside. The lamp was on, hardly good for the eyes this late at night and the amount of noise was a wonder that it didn’t wake you. 

“Alright Mei, thanks. I’ll get it shipped out to you first thing tomorrow.” A pen clicked anxiously behind the door.

The woman spoke over the phone. “Good boy, I look forward to seeing it hung up above my fireplace. Now remember to say hello to that pretty little assistant of yours, she is just too adorable.” 

A low and soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I will. Bye.” More anxious pen clicking.

The phone line cut and you decided now was a good time to enter the room. “Knock knock.”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Satoru turned in his chair to face you, still in his suit as smart as ever. 

“No, you didn’t. But it’s past one and you have an early meeting tomorrow, it’s best if you get some sleep.” You pulled the robe closer around you, the office window was open too. An awful bloody draft.

“I will,” He massaged his temples, the season for trade had really picked up in recent weeks. “I just wanted to finish off Mei’s stock and get her off my back for a while, then I can rest… come over here.”

He pointed to his computer screen as you approached charts and graphs and everything you weren't particularly interested in and never had a clue what it all meant the entire time you were in this job. It just didn’t make sense.

“I never understood any of this… I’ll just keep to booking your appointments, lunches and keeping your affairs in order.” 

“To be honest I don’t get this stuff either half the time, I just wing it mostly. But after this week it looks like things will start to settle down.” That made you chuckle in the quiet room.

“Well keep winging it and maybe we’ll get through the year unscathed after all...” It was coming up to that day you dreaded. The one that was causing all your nightmares.

Satoru typed away on the keyboard and the computer screen faded to black. “Yaga said he’d tell you when he was getting released right?”

You nodded absentmindedly. He stood up and adjusted his suit, tucking his chair in silently along the hardwood. “So, there’s no point in worrying at all until then. That’s an order from your boss.” 

His sarcasm never changed. “Yes sir.”

Satoru slid his hands on your hips and pulled you close. “Sir? Y’know, I still really like it when you call me that.”

Even though he was exhausted, Satoru still made an effort to fluster you. “It seemed like you really enjoyed ‘good boy’ or do you just let Mei Mei call you that so she continues to buy art from you?”

“Which excuse would you rather?”

You pulled at his suit lapels, getting closer still. “Either one will do.” 

Satoru picked you up with so much ease and he sat you down on his desk, his muscular arms working perfectly to hold you between them. “You’re so good to me, you know that?” 

Lips touched, pecked with warmth and wet passion. So quickly and endearing but raw. “We both know you wouldn’t survive without me now, you are way too codependant. I doubt you’d survive the week.”

You were fucking your boss. Though more like now you were both in a committed relationship. 

Satoru chuckled and nuzzled your nose, your legs already wrapped around his hips. “Maybe so, I guess we’ll never find out because I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. Especially with our anniversary around the corner.”

He remembered your anniversary after all the crammed and quite ugly group meetings and phone calls until stupid o’clock in the morning to accommodate time zones. He remembered better than you did, and the date was down in your diary for the longest time.

If he wanted to, he could have fucked you right there on that desk, you weren’t wearing underwear under that silk robe after all.

“Three years… It’s gone quick, huh?”

“I know.” The moment turned more sweet than fiery, he kissed your forehead so softly. “It’ll be alright. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try and come near you, but I’ll make sure he wont'.”

You loved it when he tucked your hair behind your ear, there was an element of security that came hand in hand with it. Just like that time in the wine closet, stroking your hair so lovingly. 

It should have been obvious then, just how amazing Satoru Gojo was.

“Enough talk, let's go to bed, I’m exhausted.”

The week had been worse than either of you had anticipated with the yearly charity auction event coming up that there seemed no light in sight. “Yeah, this event stuff is really taking it out of me.”

He let you down and guided you out of the office. “You’re doing great with all that by the way.” 

“Thank-woah!” Satoru picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. It earned a chuckle out of you. “Be careful my robe isn’t tightened properly; I’m not wearing anything.”

“Oh?” His tone was flirtatious and his hand moved up over your thigh. “You’ve been naked under that this whole time? I really should have come to bed earlier… maybe you should have started with that, Honey.” 

“What- I’m naked, get off the phone?” 

“Exactly that; actually dressed like this, you should be demanding me to bed.” He just couldn’t resist a slap on your ass, could he? 

You yelped in reaction, but allowed him to carry you to bed like on the many occasions he would stay up later to finish projects for the deadline. Despite the work. Satoru always tried to make as much time for you as he could. His job was far more demanding than you ever imagined and gave him credit for even functioning as a human being. 

Still made time for you. Time. 

Time... 

The charity event was soon and despite being at home and safe in your boyfriend's arms, there was a nagging feeling you couldn’t ignore in the pit of your stomach of what was to come. 

—-

“Detective Ino?” There was the bubbling out of your stomach again threatening to spike bile in your throat. 

“Hello. May I come in?” His suit was darker than usual that matched the large fully packed bags under his eyes.

“Yes of course,” Stepping back to let him in, confusion wasn’t what made you pause. “Satoru is in a meeting right now, but I can have him call you. The meetings usually take a few hours, but you are happy to wait.”

It had been some time since you had seen Detective Ino, maybe getting your ear chatted off wouldn’t be so bad on your day off.

“I need to see him eventually, but it wasn't Gojo I came to see as a priority actually. You are who I need to speak with.” That was never a good sign. 

“Uh… okay. Please, come to the kitchen and I’ll make us something warm.” 

“Thanks. Coffee please if you have it.” 

“Of course.” 

Not else was really spoken, the sizzling of the coffee pot took up most of the noise in the room and your throbbing heart inside your throat. What did the Detective need to discuss with you that Yaga couldn’t or did he just not have the time required to make a house visit? You were certain though that this was about Kento Nanami being released from prison, there was no mistaking it. 

There had to be something to break the tension. “So… congratulations on the promotion, Detective. I’m sure Chief Inspector Yaga is pleased?”

The coffee mugs thumped on the marble counter as softly as you would let them, the atmosphere softened the blow. Ino took one and held it in his hands and sort of stared though you. “Well, uh… you see that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

This was it. “He’s out… isn’t he?.” 

Yaga must have been inundated with work to ensure he stayed away from you. From other people. He must have a hell of a lot of strings in higher places to pull if he was sending a detective over rather than calling you himself. 

“Yaga’s dead.”

Sitting down quickly, you almost toppled over had you not have found the bar stool quickly. That’s why he hadn’t been replying to the emails you sent him last week, you were sending emails to a dead man. 

“W-wh-“ The questions couldn’t even leave your lips. 

“Three days ago. I had to wait until the coroner’s report came in before I could tell you; they’re ruling it as not suspicious, natural causes.”

“I’m so sorry Ino. I’m- thank you for coming to tell me.” Why did he take it upon himself to let you know in person? 

“I came here to fulfil the rest of his ongoing work, really. I'll be taking over your case, it's almost closed now. But it’s good to see you doing so well, he would have liked that.”

In the raw of it, you were flourishing. But Yaga… he was dead and Satoru didn’t know yet. 

Right now, coffee wasn’t cutting it. You stood up to grab a glass of water, something to take the disgusting paste like dryness from your lips. That’s what sources said to drink when told something as upsetting as this, right?

“And yes, Nanami’s out.” 

Even more shocking and you remained where you where, frozen in time because you didn’t dare move and make all of this actually true. You did anyway because your brain couldn’t bare to resist the inevitable any longer despite your body squealing alarm bells in your face. 

“He was released a couple days ago, I only found out this morning so I came as quickly as I could.” He rummaged lazily through his jacket pocket. “Yaga was sorting all the paperwork out for you, so I’m doing it all for him.” 

A card. An embossed card with his name and contact information. “If he’s clever, which I believe he is, he won’t think about coming to see you. But if he does, call me and I’ll come running.” 

Ino stopped him last time. Ino could again, you hoped. 

Satoru’s laughter from the office made you both look at the door, though incredibly muffled it was very distinct. You remembered he was in a meeting with the owner of Geto Holdings, they got on incredibly well and more often than not you found yourself wondering if it actually was the formal meeting it should have been. 

Still, at least someone was happy right now.

“Thank you detective, I’ll let Satoru know as soon as he’s finished his meeting.”

Detective Ino spoke your name in the sternest tone yet. “I need to see him now.” 

“R-right.” This couldn’t be good. Satoru hated the meetings being interrupted. 

“If I’m interrupted then the stupid meeting takes longer to finish. And these old geezers are doing my nerves right in.” He whined once to you when he was requested on another important phone call. 

Though maybe he’d feel better because it was Suguru Geto he was being chummy with and not the elders from overseas.

You knocked on the office door and awaited the pause and answer which came swiftly. “Come in!” 

He was smiling as was common when speaking with Mr Geto, teeth bare with a sweet chuckle. “Honey, Suguru’s on the phone, say hi.” 

You approached the desk once coaxed over. “Hello Mr Geto, I hope you’re doing well?” 

The line was incredibly clear judging by the quality of his own laugh, must have landed back from overseas sooner than you thought. “I do wish you'd stop calling me Mr Geto, my first name suits me better don’t you think?” 

You faked your smile like he could see it. “If you would rather keep things informal, I’m sure I can arrange that, sir.”

“Perfect, that’s more like it-“ 

While Mr Geto talked, you quickly pressed the mute button. “Detective Ino is waiting in the kitchen and he asked to see you, it’s pretty urgent.” 

He nodded and took your hand as you pulled it away. “It was great to hear from you Suguru, but something has come up, can I call you later?”

“Yeah sure, I have unpacking to do anyway.” He spoke your name to attention. “Don’t let him work too hard or his head will explode. See you at the auction in a few days.”  

“I won’t, see you then. Goodbye.” Your trademark phone voice was flawless, though your face did not match it.

“What is it about?” Satoru said, getting to his feet and adjusting his tie that was loosened. 

“I don’t know. But there's some things we need to talk about.”

He steadied you, hands on either shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, do you need to sit down?”

“I-I’ll be fine, I think I just need a minute.” 

“Stay here, I’ll go see what he wants and come out when you’re ready.” He pressed a delicate kiss on your forehead and left the room. 

Sinking. That’s the only way you could describe the sensation of it all hitting you. A man was dead and Kento Nanami was out of prison and could be anywhere without your knowledge. 

Kento Nanami was out of the one fucking place you were positive he couldn’t hurt you. 

That security wasn’t long lived.

Part 8 <- Part 9 -> Part 10

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[joaosnovia]

hii, i just start read you fic, and i love them. and can you maybe make a story of y/n and Guille Fernandez, where they are old friend, but haven't seen each other for years, but she chooses to go to Barcelona to surprise him. a cute ending.

❦ - back to you.

summary:: you and guille have always been bestfriends but you had to move away. ever since then he’s all you could think about to the point you couldn’t take it anymore and you came right back.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: i’m sorry this is really rushed i really need to extend my fics bc this is more of a blurb icl but i hope you guys like it nonetheless!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed!

the plane lands with a soft jolt, and you grip the armrest, heart thumping. it’s been years. too many. your pulse quickens as you gather your bag, feet moving on autopilot through the terminal. barcelona greets you with golden warmth, the kind that sinks into your skin and settles there, familiar and comforting. the air smells the same too: sea salt, roasting chestnuts, and the faint hint of blooming jasmine wafting from somewhere beyond the airport doors.

your phone buzzes in your pocket. a text from guille lights up the screen: meeting ran late. might just crash when i get home. today’s been brutal. you smile, thumb hovering over the keyboard. should you respond? hint at what’s coming? no. that’d ruin the whole point. you tuck your phone away, nerves simmering beneath your excitement.

the cab ride is a blur of winding streets and familiar sights. balconies overflow with potted plants, and the hum of city life pulses at every corner, laughter, footsteps, distant music echoing through the alleys. barcelona feels like a memory you’re stepping back into, equal parts comfort and surprise. maybe it’s the city that’s changed. maybe it’s you. maybe it’s him.

your thoughts drift to the last time you saw him, five years ago. rushed goodbyes at an airport terminal. promises to stay in touch that slowly dissolved. guille had been a constant back then, the anchor to your storm. funny how some people hold onto a part of you, even when time stretches thin between meetings.

the driver pulls up to his building, and you thank him, nerves twisting tighter. the graffiti along the side wall is still there, same colors, same shapes. the bakery on the corner glows warmly, scent of fresh bread curling through the cool evening air. you inhale deeply, letting it wrap around you like a hug. some things never change.

you pause at his door, fingers hesitating before you knock. quick. sharp. footsteps shuffle on the other side, and then – a pause. the lock clicks. the door creaks open.

his hair’s longer, scruffier. but those eyes; the same warm blonde, widen with disbelief. ‘what the hell?’ his voice is caught somewhere between a laugh and a breathless exhale.

‘surprise,’ you grin, nerves melting beneath the weight of his gaze.

‘you’re here,’ he breathes out, blinking as if you might vanish. his hand reaches forward, fingertips brushing yours. ‘god, you should’ve told me.’

‘and ruin the surprise?’

he laughs, loud, bright, the kind that pulls at something deep in your chest. ‘get in here.’

inside, his apartment is a blend of clutter and comfort. books stacked haphazardly. a guitar propped against the couch. the place smells like coffee and cedarwood. he runs a hand through his hair, still dazed. ‘seriously, what? how long are you here for?’

‘depends,’ you shrug. ‘how much coffee can you promise me?’

hours later, you end up at the beach, shoes kicked off, waves cool against your ankles. the city hums behind you, music, conversation, life carrying on while the sky melts into a watercolor of pinks and oranges. conversation flows easily. you swap stories, trade laughter, filling the spaces where years had crept in. it’s seamless. natural. like no time passed at all.

he bends to pick up a pebble, flinging it into the surf. ‘remember that summer we got lost trying to find that lighthouse?’

‘you mean you got us lost,’ you shoot back.

‘hey, i was following your map!’

‘my map didn’t tell you to wander into someone’s backyard.’

laughter bubbles up between you, shoulders bumping. the sky deepens into indigo, stars beginning to prickle the horizon. silence settles, comfortable and warm. his gaze shifts to you, softer now. ‘i missed you,’ he says, quiet but certain.

your heart tugs, something tender and familiar unfurling. ‘yeah. me too.’

he reaches for your hand. no hesitation. fingers slip between yours, fitting like they always have. the waves hush against the shore, and for a moment, it’s just this, just him, just you.

‘so,’ he murmurs, glancing over. ‘you staying a while?’

you squeeze his hand, smile tugging at your lips. ‘yeah. i think i will.’

you walk back through winding streets bathed in amber light, shoes dangling from free hands. laughter drifts from nearby cafés. someone strums a guitar overhead, notes floating down from a balcony. the city stretches out around you; vast and intimate all at once.

later, you sit side by side on his balcony, mugs of tea warming your hands. barcelona sprawls before you, glittering under the night sky. he leans back in his chair, casting you a sidelong glance. ‘can’t believe you’re really here.’

you rest your head against his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping. ‘me neither.’

the night folds in close, warm, familiar, as if the universe is whispering: this is where you’re meant to be.

[vanfleeter]

My Love: Chapter 2

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Sara, Josh Kiszka, Sam Kiszka, Daniel Wagner, Chris Turpin. Warnings: 18+ || Language. Gore. Mentions of murder. Vampires. Blood drinking. Angst. Anger. Frustration. Crying. Drinking. Jealousy. Smut. Sexual intentions. Cockblocking.

The book shelves only feel like they’re caving in on me as I pace around the room. The anger still boils in my veins. I look down at my hand and remember the way it looked curled around her neck. Then I remember the fear in her eyes. Shaking my hands, I walk over to the desk and slump down in the chair.

She hasn’t left the bedroom. I can hear crying–muffled mostly by a pillow, but nonetheless–crying. I did that to her, I made her cry. I’ve never made her cry and I’ve never gotten angry with her. At least, not like that.

Suddenly I hear her feet touch the floor as she walks across the room and towards the door. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. She descends the stairs, walking past the study. Her heart rate is elevated, the rush of her blood making my mouth salivate. But that changes when I hear the front door open. Standing from the desk chair, I walk over to the window and watch her as she gets in her car and pulls out of the driveway.

Yanking the curtains closed, I let the anger finally consume me. Swiping my arms across the desk, I send everything flying off the top. Grabbing my keys, I run out to my car and take off.

Not after her.

I won’t chase after her.

The bass of the music beats through my body as I slip around people in the crowded hallway. Making it out and into the open space, my eyes immediately land on her. Her eyes lock with mine and a sinister smile spreads across her face as she leans against the bar counter.

“Well well well, what brings you around here, Mr. Kiszka?”

I chuckle and lean against the bar beside her. “Such formality, Kate. I thought we were friends?”

“Friends keep in contact,” She sips on her drink and moves to stand in front of me. “I haven’t heard from you in months.. So tell me, what brings you around here?” She eyes me suspiciously as she finishes off her drink. “Do you need a fix?”

“I shouldn’t..”

“What happened?” She says, cocking her head. “Does your little human not satisfy you?”

“I don’t want to talk about her..”

“Ope.. Trouble in paradise, I see..”

I sigh. “She’s angry..”

“What did you do?”

“It’s what I won’t do..” I say as I take on the now empty bar stool beside me.

“I don’t get why you won’t.. She won’t live forever and I will definitely not be there to mend your broken heart when she dies..”

“Wow, you sure do know how to cheer someone up.” I grumble while resting my chin in the palm of my hand.

Katherine Wilks. Quite an old friend of mine. We met nearly a hundred years ago. She was quite the beauty then, still is even now. Never once though have I thought of her as more than a friend, even though she used to be the one I would turn to when I needed someone to talk to or even someone I could bury myself into when I needed the relief.

Kate smiles and sets her empty glass on the counter. “She loves you, Jacob. I saw it in her eyes all that time ago when you first introduced her.”

I shake my head. “No, Kate. I won’t do it.”

“But why not? Why are you so afraid of doing this one thing?”

“She deserves better..”

“Jacob..”

“I don’t want her to be like me–like my brothers–a fucking monster..”

I turn around to fully face the bar and wave down the bartender to give him my drink. The nagging urge to want to sink my teeth into somebody is unbearable.

“You’re not a monster,” Kate groans. “Despite what the legends say, we are not monsters. We choose to be them, but we aren’t them.”

The bartender comes back with my drink and I down it all in one gulp before setting it back down on the counter top and ordering another one. He comes back with another and I grab it before turning back to face Kate.

“I could’ve killed her tonight..” I admit aloud. “All I wanted to do was squeeze her neck inside the palm of my hand until she couldn’t breathe.. I wanted to snap her neck.”

“But you didn’t.. I’m assuming..”

I roll my eyes and take a drink. “You would’ve known if I did..”

“Probably find you upstairs having a threesome..” Kate scoffs with a smile. “Where is she now?”

I shrug my shoulders and sip my drink. “She left..”

“Woah, woah.. She left? And you have no idea where she went?”

“Nope..” I take another sip. “And I don’t care..”

“Oh don’t you dare do this, Jacob.” Kate says as she grabs the glass out of my hand. “Yes you do care.”

“She fucking left, Kate, because I won’t give her what she wants. So fine, she wants to be a cry baby about it and leave, then so be it.” I try to reach for the glass but she simply holds out of my reach. I huff and slide off the bar stool. “Fine,” I say as I straighten out my jacket. “I’ll find something or someone else to satisfy me..”

Walking away from the bar, I weave my way through the now crowded dance floor. The sudden smell of vanilla fills my nose and I pause.

Vanilla.

Fuck.

Turning around I’m faced with a woman, smiling wickedly. She wraps her hand around my biceps and nods her head towards the stairs. Looking up, I find another one standing at the top. She wiggles her fingers and winks before disappearing. I allow the first one to lead me to the stairs. Her blonde hair is cascading down her back, nearly touching her ass, which seems to be barely covered by the dress she wears.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she stops and turns to face me. “You know the rules, Mr. Kiszka.. Turn it off..”

I haven’t turned off my emotions since… Since before I met Sara..

Sara.

Her face flashes through my mind. The face full of fear as I grip her neck in my hand.

The delicate feeling of this woman’s hand as she slides it beneath the fabric of my shirt, pulls me away from that image. I look her in the eyes and she smiles.

“Just for a little while.. Take her off your mind..”

Her vanilla scent still clouds my head and I find myself giving in. The mental switch flipping and the overwhelming feeling of guilt washes away.

“There you are..”

Pulling me into the nearest room, she closes the door. Inside rests a bed resting underneath the window, allowing the moonlight to wash over it. I can feel myself growing hard inside my pants as her hands find my body again. Suddenly the second one shows up and she’s already undoing my belt and unbuttoning my pants.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been here, Jacob..” She softly speaks as she kisses my neck. “I see you found yourself a human..”

She barely made it down my exposed chest when the door flew open. “Found him!” I hear Sam’s voice. “Sorry ladies, time’s up,” He says, clapping his hands together.

His hands come down my shoulders and he’s guiding me out of the room. “Fix yourself,” He demands.

“Get your hands off of me..” I say as I try to shove him off.

“Listen, I don’t know what the fuck happened tonight, but Sara is at our place all upset. And those bruises..” He scoffs and shoves me down the stairs. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I do not..”

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs is Danny. I roll my eyes when ours meet and I straighten out my clothes. “Tell Josh that I do not need you goons to escort me.”

“My my, someone really is in a mood tonight.” Danny chuckles.

I shoot him a glare before I turn away, only to catch Sam motioning his hands in a way to signal to Danny that I have indeed turned off my emotions. Danny nods his head and starts to walk ahead of me, weaving his way through the crowd and back down the now crowded hallway and outside where a black SUV is parked on the side of the road.

The ride to my brother’s home was silent. The staring unbearable as the two of them watch my every move. The car finally comes to a stop in the driveway and the three of us exit and make our way inside.

“We have secured the package!” Sam calls, his voice echoing along the vaulted ceiling and marble walls.

“The package?” Danny groans. “Shut up..”

“She’s upstairs..” I hear behind me.

Turning on my heels, I find Josh standing beside me with his arms crossed over his chest. “And?” I say. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Gee, I don’t know.. Talk to her?!” Josh says. “Fix this!”

“Fix what? She’s only upset because I won’t turn her.”

“For what reason?” Josh says. “And don’t give me the same bullshit excuse of not wanting to turn her into a monster.. Need I remind you that we are the most well behaved so-called monsters, that you think we are, in the whole south.. So knock it off..”

“And if I don’t?”

Josh’s nostrils flare and his arms drop to his sides. Next he’s shoving me towards the stairs. “Switch your flip and go talk to her.”

“You never answered my question..”

“I have a nice, shiny dagger with your name carved in it,” He growls. “Do not make me have to use it.. I’ll keep you limbo for another hundred years if I have to.”

“You dare to threaten me with that?” I scoff. “How original brother.”

“Just go..” He says, shoving me up the stairs.

Begrudgingly, I make my way up the stairs. I can already smell her. Her scent is unmistakable and undeniable. When I turn the corner I spy her in the hallway coming out of one of the rooms, and when she sees me, she darks back in and slamming the door shut. The click of the lock echoing in the massive hall. Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes and switch that mental flip. Soon all of it comes rushing back. Even the guilt of nearly sleeping with another woman.

Knocking on the door, I wait for her to answer. When she doesn’t, I try again. “Sara, may we-”

“No..”

Oh.. Stern.

“Sara, we need-”

“Go away, Jake..”

Her voice is softer this time. I can almost hear it wavering as the sadness slowly consumes her. How can one simple argument ruin everything? How could I have been so rough with her? I have never laid my hands on her like that. Not unless she had asked me to do it. Which she has.

Kinky.

Fuck.

Now is not the time.

Taking matters into my own hands, I grip the handle and turn the knob. The spike in her pulse is evident as I shove the door open. My eyes meet hers and they aren’t filled with fear after I just broke into the room, but they’re filled with anger. Not the sadness that I had heard in her voice. Pure, white anger. Can I blame her? Not in the slightest. Seeing her angry like that makes me want her. I crave her. I need her.

“Why can’t you listen?” She says. “I said to go away.”

“You should know by now that I don’t listen very well.”

She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “Clearly..”

“We need to talk..”

“There’s nothing to talk about.. You made yourself very clear.. So don’t waste your time with me, I’m sure that blonde bimbo would love to continue where you left off.”

Blonde bimbo.

She’s jealous.

A pillow slams into my face, taking me by surprise and making me stumble. “Wipe that smirk off your face..”

“I’m sorry-”

“You’re disgusting..”

“Sara-”

“Leave.”

“Are you ordering me?”

“So what if I am?” She says. “You’re not the only one that’s in charge.”

In a second I’m in her face, her scent heavy and intoxicating. My nose nearly touches hers as I lean down to kiss her. When our lips connect, I pull her body close to mine.

“I could never love another,” I whisper against her lips. “You know that.”

“So dramatic..” She says as she pushes me away.

A light chuckle leaves me and I draw her near again, walking her backwards towards the bed. “In all of my five hundred years, I have never met someone quite like you. Someone who can love so fiercely yet be so damn jealous at the same time.”

“Stop doing that..”

“Stop doing what?”

She tries to shove me away but I only hold her closer. “Stop talking like that..”

“Why? I thought you loved it..” I press my lips to her neck and suck on the soft skin. “And I’m not dramatic, love, I’m romantic. A poet if you will.”

Feeling the fabric of her nightgown, I look down and tsk as I take in her look.

“You dare show up to my brother’s home dressed like this?”

Bending down, just the slightest, I hook my hands around her thighs and lift her up onto my hips.

“Now who’s the jealous one?”

I smile and squeeze her thighs. “So you were jealous..” I lay her down on the bed, hovering over top of her as I use a hand to push up her nightgown to her hips, exposing her glorious center. She makes fast work on undoing my belt and my pants and pushes them down my hips. I reach my hand down from her hip and guide myself to her entrance.

I start to slowly push in when a knock comes on the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” Follows a voice.

Both of us look over. I groan aloud and pull away before standing straight and shoving myself back into my pants. Sara’s moving to sit up, pulling her nightgown back down.

“Christopher..” I mutter.

“What? Not excited to see me?”

“Considering what you just broke up? No..”

He chuckles and leans against the threshold. “I’m here for business.. It’s important..”

I glance over at Sara and nod my head towards the door. I reach for her hand as she walks by and I pull her back. “Do not come upstairs until I tell you to, understand?” I say into her ear. “Stay away.” She meekly nods her head and I let her go.

I clear my throat when I catch him watching her as she leaves. He rolls his eyes and steps into the room. “Just one little nip..” He says.

“Touch her and I will kill you.”

“Exactly why I’m here,” Chris says as he walks over to the bed and sits down. “Well partially..”

“Alright,” I lean against the bedpost. “Why are you here then?”

“I have been sent here from London to investigate the recent murders along the eastern seaboard,” Chris says as he stands back to his feet.

“Well I can certainly tell you that it’s not me committing these murders, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Chris chuckles but shakes his head. “I fully believe that you are not responsible for them,” He says. “You seem rather…occupied.” He says, directing his eyes towards the door that Sara left through. “I still don’t understand why you waste your time with a human..”

“Chris..”

“No, truly, Jacob.. What if you turn her and she becomes like one of the newborns? The newborn that happens to be terrorizing the East Coast as we speak.”

“I’m not turning her..” I say. “For that exact reason.. We are monsters, whether my brothers choose to believe the myths or not, that is what we are. How can I trust that she won’t be the same?”

Chris nods his head. “At least that we can agree on..” He runs a hand through his hair. “You are the most experienced dealing with newborns.. You know how they operate..”

“Considering we all were one once?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “And I assume that you are requesting my assistance in tracking down this newborn?”

“Yes.”

“Where do you need me then?”

Chris starts for the door. “The latest one was in Boston, I expect to see you there tomorrow morning.. I would suggest now, but seeing what I interrupted,” He smirks. “I suggest you get some use out of her because you will be gone for a while.”

He turns back around and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Rolling my eyes, I go back to sit on the bed. The collar of my shirt suddenly felt tighter around my neck. Grabbing at the fabric, I pull it apart and undo the cuffs of my sleeves.

A soft knock comes on the door and I turn my head to see Sara peeking her head in. I wave her over and she slips back into the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Chris is..” She clears her throat. “Interesting..”

“He is indeed,” I chuckle. I pull her onto my lap, my hands gripping her hips. “And didn’t I tell you not to come back up until I called you?”

“You should know by now, Jake,” She says. “That I do not listen very well.”

“Hmm..” I smiled at her. “I do know..”

“So what did he want?” She asks. “If I am allowed to know?”

I inhale and cock my head to the side. “There is a newborn killing up and down the East Coast. Chris has requested my help in catching this newborn.”

“Oh.. So you must be leaving soon?”

I nod my head. “He wants me in Boston by tomorrow morning.”

“That does not give us much time then,” She says.

“To do what?” I ask as I run my hands underneath her nightgown. “To make up?” She nods her head and I smile. “It’s plenty of time.. And besides, he’ll survive if I show up a little late.. A newborn can’t survive in the sun until they have the proper means to do so.”

“And what would that be?”

I bring my hand up to her face and rest my index finger against her lips. “You ask too many questions.. Stop wasting the limited time we have before I leave.”

“I’m only curious.”

“And I am only craving you.”

“Not worried your brothers might hear us?”

“They wouldn’t have to hear us if we’d been at our own home..” I say and she smiles. “Next time you decide to leave home, do not come here.”

“Afraid that Josh might try something?”

I chuckle. “No, I am not afraid that Josh will try something.. It’s Sam that I am afraid of.” I pinch her thighs and she gasps. “Now stop talking…”

if i have missed you and you would like to added to the taglist for this, please do not hesitate to comment or message me!

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama (more tags in comments)

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

The Dragon's Gem (Malleus x GN!Reader)

Note: This banner will change in the future. I haven't had time to create a Halloween one yet. I meant to publish a Lilia fic today, but due to unforseen circumstances this week I was not able to complete it in time. I'm very sorry I've been slow lately - work has been something else. I hope to get the energy back sometime soon. My main goal is to finish the Beach Episode series, then move onto a mix of the Masquerade and Halloween events. Very late, I know, and I'm sorry. Please bare with me (I am very tired). Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this drabble in the meantime. Happy Halloween!!

“Is it real?”

“Hm?”

Malleus turned to face his beloved Child of Man. His pupils dilated at the mere sight of them, their glorious visage rivaling the most fantastic wonders of the world. To see that beautiful person staring down at his tail in their own wonderment made his heart swell all the more.

“Your tail,” they said, pointing to the appendage in question. “It doesn’t move like a fake one would, nor does it look like it’s made of plastic or something. So, is it real?”

“Yes, it is.” Malleus confirmed. “It is a part of my true form; I rarely reveal it, as it could be quite troublesome to others.”

“How so?”

Their genuine curiosity was adorable. Malleus could not help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Well, sitting at a desk would be a trifle. They are often closely packed together. Unlike, say, Kingscholar’s tail, it would be hard to tuck mine somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way.” Malleus’s smile then wavered as he continued. “That, and I am already greatly feared by most of the student body. I suppose I want to make myself appear less…monstrous around them.”

[Name]’s gaze softened, their lips down-turning along with their eyebrows. Malleus’s heart skipped a beat; he did not mean to make them sad! Before he could apologize, however, his Child of Man spoke again - softly, tenderly.

“I can’t say much for others, but you’re not a monster, Malleus.” Their hand came to rest upon his arm. The look in their eyes was sincere - the emotion so prominent it practically swept Malleus off his feet. “Tail or no tail, you’re just like the rest of us.” Finally, a smile graced their features once more. “Your features don’t make me love you any less.”

Love…could that be…? No - no, certainly not. The proclamation was far too casual to be a confession. That, and if they were to do such a thing, would it not be with some sort of gift in tow? It was the proper thing to do - at least that’s what Malleus had been taught. Could [Name]’s courting rituals be different in their world? Malleus would have to pry at a later date…but how to do so without being too forward?

“Malleus?” [Name] called softly, head tilted to the side. “Are you there?”

Malleus snapped out of his thoughts with a silent gasp. He quickly composed himself and smiled down at them. “Yes, I am alright - more than alright, actually. Your words have touched my very soul. Thank you for your kind words; I will try to remember them from now on.”

[Name] seemed relieved with his answer. They smiled and nodded, then retracted their hand from his arm. Malleus missed the contact immediately, but did not reach out for them. He would do so later, when the act would not seem to forward - too desperate. Oh, if only Lilia were here now; perhaps he could bestow upon Malleus some more wisdom if he were. Without him, however, Malleus would make due for the time being.

Malleus noticed [Name]’s eyes were back on his tail, a look of curiosity within them. The man’s smile widened a tad, eyes narrowed in amusement. He nudged his tail forward - he chuckled when [Name] flinched in surprise. How adorable they were.

“You are welcome to touch it, if you like.” Malleus’s next words were spoken with a mild teasing lilt. “I should warn you though: it could easily send you flying if you’re not careful.”

The Child of Man showed no hesitation in their smile or movements. Their eyes lit up with joy; their hands quickly found the scales of the tail, tracing each with their fingertips. It took all of Malleus’s being not to explode in a red flush at that moment - especially with the words that left his dear one’s lips.

“I’m not too worried; I know you won’t hurt me.”

No - Malleus could never even dream of it.

Perhaps Halloween outside of Briar Valley was just as enjoyable. Hopefully, in the near future, the prince could bring a precious gem back with him - if they would have him.

[sunsblaze]

Cont. || @gilded-sunrays

The flow of time would stop for no one, not for the virtuous, not for kings, nor those touched my the divine, time was a cruel mistress, something many tried to cling to only to rear back with blistering palms as it is ripped violently from tender hands.

A truth they had both come to learn through similar tales of not only love and loss, but betrayal. They had both been born with this curse- blessing and yet with such a gift they had still been unable to protect what truly mattered to them, they had been too late every single time. The contents of the future evaded her. Evaded them.

Her own days had been spent much the same, each day passing was filled an ebbing restlessness as her life began to stall leaving little for her to do in these day of involuntary retirement, though it wasn’t always like this, there had been a time where her days had been filled with warmth, shrouded in domestic bliss as she stood hand in hand with her husband.

They had been expecting, she spent their final days together nesting, preparing for the birth of their first child- a daughter, though as the moons leading up to labor came to pass everything she held dear would be ripped from her grasp. As her husband prepared for the morning journey he had to make to fetch a midwife, something made its move, striking the small family down, all she remembered was waking the next day, her hand clutching tightly onto her husband’s and intense pains wracking through her body.

Alone, she would give birth to a child that was destined to not breathe a single breath.

The coming days were a blur, she would not move from her husband’s side, instead she would lay there, the infant laying against her chest until a man she would soon know as Rengoku came to her, he had been in search of the creature that had snuffed her the lives of her family, he would help her back to her feet, help her put her loved ones to rest. Shortly after she made a decision, a vow to never have another suffer as she had, she would become a slayer and fight the shadows away with the burning determination of the sun itself.

For a handful of years she had kept busy, pushing forward as she fought tirelessly, following a path she had never truly wished to step foot on, but it seemed fate had other plans, this- being a demon slayer, it had been her destiny, she had found her purpose in that time and yet she seemed to lose it all the same.

Her own failure to cut down the demon lord, her allowing a demon to escape, and the betrayal of her own twin, it ended her time as a pillar and almost costed her life, many believed she should have atoned by committing sepukku, though both the young master and the flame pillar would not allow it, she would be given the mercy of exile- though was losing everything yet again really a mercy?

Nonetheless, she would take each day one at a time, hunting demons that lurked nearby, visiting the few loved ones she had left as her determination, her passions flickered and faded from a blazing inferno to a flickering candlelight. She often found herself doing the bare minimum for her survival, she would eat, drink, bathe, and tend to the repairs of her home.

That was until things would change around her…literally.

The sound of the teapot shattering was deafening in the still night and it was only accentuated by the seconds of silence that followed, the sounds of the woman’s gentle breaths filling the space between them. Though it was a rare occurrence, she was a bit shaken, she had almost killed this man, if she had been just seconds slower then his head would been sent rolling across the wooden boards beneath them.

While she awaited his answer she would just stare down at the man, her eyes the same shade of maroon as his, both like deep glasses of red wine- a finely aged vintage. For a second she had a thought that he might be a demon or that this was some kind of mirage, but it would only take her one glance to tell that not only was this real, it that he was just as human as she. Not only that, but he was her mirror image other than his more masculine features, she felt as if she were staring into a pool and on the other side laid a world so similar, yet different.

It made one wonder just how different things were on the other side.

As the man’s lips parted to speak a name- one that was all too familiar the woman would blink- she wasn’t exactly sure what to think at the moment, other than the fact that this man was her? Or was she him? It was all a bit complicated.

“…As am I.”

Her response was soft, her voice just as hushed as his own, as if this exact moment was so delicate that one word spoked too loud would shatter the world around them into a million pieces. She would make the first move, her hand. Bracing against his chest as she pushed herself to her feet before stepping to the side, a slender, yet calloused hand outstretched to him.

“I apologize for the disturbance, please, allow me to take care of the mess I have caused.”

[starrysnowdrop]

I know this is a little late, but here’s my New Year’s post where I’ll discuss what my plans are for 2025 and some of my thoughts heading into this new year. I’m assuming that I might be a little long winded, so I’ll put the rest under the cut. Have a happy 2025 everyone!!

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me after the attack in my hometown of New Orleans. As I mentioned before, no one I personally knew was there on Bourbon Street when it happened, but it nonetheless left me feeling extremely distressed, and everyone here in Nola is grieving together, so we are taking it one day at a time.

Because of the attack, I wasn’t in the right mindset to write out this post, but I’m finally alright enough mentally to get these thoughts out.

Next, spurned on by my new profile picture, I decided that I wanted to change up the look of my blog a bit. There’s lighter, brighter colors used, and along with the new colors, I decided to make some new banners for my pinned post. The new banners are already being used in my pinned post, but I’ll attach them below in case you haven’t seen them yet. The background is a painting of snowdrop flowers! Don’t worry, the starry banners that were there previously will still be used interchangeably with the new ones when I answer asks.

Speaking of Hali and her ships, I have plenty of things that I want to gpose and write for Hali, and at the moment I’m still going forward with Hali having two ships in separate universes, but I’m not going to lie: I’m extremely inspired to write for Hali x Themis at the moment.

So does that mean that I’ll drop the Aymeric ship in the future? Well, I don’t know that yet. I’m still very happy with what I’ve done for the Hali x Aymeric ship, and even in the Themisverse, Aymeric is her first love. The only difference is that Aymeric pushes Hali away so that she doesn’t have to be stuck in Ishgard with him when she’s an adventurer, so they never get together in the Themisverse. So Aymeric would still be a very important person who plays a very important role in Hali’s story regardless if they are in a relationship or not.

However, my mind just will not leave me alone when it comes to Themis. I currently want to explore Hali’s experiences with seeing Themis in her dreams and not knowing who he is or why she can’t stop dreaming of him, and also having a Deja vu feeling whenever she encounters Elidibus but neither of them recognizing each other nor remembering their past love for each other. And of course, there’s much to write about Hali’s personal story during the events of Pandaemonium when they start falling in love with each other.

On the gpose front, I already have made some great strides with getting back to doing some more complex posing and using some shaders and presets that broke in the DT graphics update that I FINALLY got around to fixing! So once my son is back in school and I have more free time to practice, I’ll be getting back to do more gposes and especially more Hali x Themis shippy stuff!! So please look forward to it!!!

Alright, so let’s move onto Yume and Zenos (her side blog is @firelightmuse). I’m going to continue housing Yume’s stuff on the separate side blog even though all of my other OCs will be on the main blog, and that’s because Yume’s story has some darker content and themes from her backstory and her relationship with Zenos that is very different from Hali’s story and what I’m planning on for Sohna’s story.

There’s already several WIPs on the Yume x Zenos front, and I will be going forward with what I’ve wanted to explore with Yume for a long time: Yume will be heading home to Hingashi and facing what’s happened to her home since she left over a decade ago. It’s a storyline that I’ve been planning for a few years now but I finally feel confident enough in where she’s at that I’m going forward with it finally. So there’s much more that will be coming out from Yume’s story this year, so once again, please look forward to it!!

And lastly but certainly not least, I’m still going to be exploring Sohna’s story and developing her relationship with Alphinaud, but that’s going to be slow going, because Sohna is from Tural, and her story is so tied up in Dawntrail’s MSQ that I don’t know how much of a role she will play in the events going forward. I do know that down the road I want her to join the Scions and obviously she will grow closer to Alphi, but I’m not sure how I want to approach all of that just yet. Just know that I still love them greatly and I’m excited to see how things progress this year!!

And with that, those are currently my plans for 2025, and I have so much on my plate that I want to accomplish, but I’m really motivated right now and I’m excited to start working on it all. If you’ve read this far, thank you so much for your time, and feel free to ask me anything that I didn’t cover here or if you want more details on something. Once again, thank you, and here’s to a Happy 2025!!!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6 K Warnings: none Prompt: What will happen when you face a boggart on DADA? On top of that, it's finally the long awaited day, the quidditch trials, will you make it into the team? This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 7: "Peaceful Easy Feeling"

A week had flown by while at Hogwarts. You were becoming closer and closer to your Gryffindor classmates, and you couldn’t be happier. This morning James reminded you like four times that the quidditch trials would be later that day. He’d given you a list of the things you’d need and made sure you were aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be the only person to choose who made it to the team, so you had to fly as gracefully as you always did, and better. 

“You sure you’ve got everything ready?” He asked, yet another time as you walked towards the Great Hall after divination. 

“Yes James,” you replied exasperated “I’ve got my broom, and my goggles, and the cape you gave me, and Remus’ sweater from the other day –because he said it would be cold–, and Sirius’ goddamned lucky hair tie too.” 

“Excellent, At what time will I see you?” 

“4 pm,” he was about to say another thing “Seriously Potter, one more quidditch-related question and I won’t even show up,” you warned.  

He nodded “I was actually gonna ask you If I could copy your DADA homework?” He said with a guilty smile “I totally forgot with all the quidditch stuff and Moony is pissed at me because he reminded me of it every night but I forgot anyway.” 

You rolled your eyes but took out your parchment and handed it over. “You better change it a bit so Nightshade doesn’t find out, remember she’s really good at spotting stuff.” He nodded profusely. 

Your DADA teacher was very strict, absolutely charming, and elegant, but strict nonetheless. Last time she discovered someone had been copying someone else’s homework –Tom copying Beth’s– she took 10 points from each of them and gave them detention until they did the entire thing again. Thankfully Lily had been very participative in that class and the points she won almost balanced out the ones they’d lost. 

From your table, Remus was the first one to spot the two of you. He was sitting besides Sirius, and he waved as soon as he saw you, you smiled, and went to take a seat. 

“Where’s my hair tie?” Sirius asked as soon as he saw you. 

“Nice to see you too Sirius,” You said as you raised your arm and pulled the sleeve of Remus’ sweater back, waving your hand in the air to make its position obvious.

“No, no, no. You need to have it on your hair for it to work,” He said, you raised your eyebrows at him. “Here, I can do it for you.” He grabbed your hand, pulling his hair tie from your wrist and placing it on his, standing up behind you. He then started toying with your hair, brushing it back with his fingers. 

“What the hell is that wanker doing to your hair love?” Beth said, pointing at Sirius as she took a seat in front of you.

“Infusing luck into my hairstyle or something,” you shrugged and leaned in to grab a slice of pie from the table, but you were abruptly pulled back by Sirius' hand in your hair “Ouch!” you exclaimed, furrowing your brow in discomfort. You tried to turn your head towards Sirius to glare at him but he firmly grasped your head with both hands and guided it back to face forward “Sirius, stop pulling on my hair!”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” He teased in a flirty tone, fucking Sirius Black. 

“Oh course not, goddamnit!” 

“Well then! Stop moving until I’m done, Would ya?” 

You took a deep breath and attempted to nod, causing your hair to be pulled yet again, you winced. Deciding it was best to remain still, you shifted your gaze toward Beth, who offered you a sympathetic smile. When you finally stopped moving you used your wand to skillfully levitate the food towards your plate and gave a satisfying bite to a piece of fudge. Meanwhile, Sirius gently tugged at the left side of your head, and surprisingly, you found yourself relishing the sensation of his fingers playfully caressing your scalp. 

“Hey Potter,” You heard someone shout from the entrance, “See if you can catch this!” the person said before launching a quaffle towards your friend, who swiftly dodged the ball, leaving you in its way instead. You turned your head, feeling another pull from Sirius’ hands on your head but managed to kinda catch the ball as it hit you sharp on the stomach, pushing you back into Remus’ chest, who’d turned to hold you from falling further.  

It took you half a minute to get your breath back, and then you turned to the place the ball had come from, Sirius and James were angrily walking towards the person that threw the ball, it was the unhinged boy you saw sitting next to Regulus on the train. 

“What the hell Crouch?” Sirius seethed, “You could’ve hurt someone!” 

“Hey Volkov,” You heard James shout to a tall boy in Slytherin robes “Keep your dog on a leash, would you?” 

Barty just laughed in response “You cowards, you dodged the ball!” He said in between maniacal chuckles. 

Feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion from the hit, You let your head fall on Remus’ shoulder -who was still holding you– and took a deep breath to compose yourself. Finally deciding to intervene, you stood up and strode towards the confrontation. As you glared at the Slytherin boy who had thrown the ball, his laughter started to cease, being replaced by an uncomfortable expression. In hindsight, it might have been a reckless move, you could’ve easily gotten caught for it, but there were no teachers around at that particular moment. 

“What the fuck?!” He said after the ball fell on the floor, thick red liquid dripping from his nose “You b*tch!” He roared before he launched himself towards you, being stopped by the towering Volkov boy and Regulus, who’d just arrived at the scene. 

“Oops, I guess I threw it the wrong way,” you taunted sarcastically. “Maybe if you were as good at dogging as my boy Potter here,” you said pointing at James “you wouldn’t have ended up in that pathetic situation.” With a dismissive flick of your hair, you turned on your heel and walked back to your table, Sirius’ made ponytail swaying behind you. 

Volkov and Regulus practically dragged Crouch out of the Great Hall before James and Sirius finally returned to their seats beside you. You looked at your food with a frown, the hit of the quaffle right in your stomach had taken your appetite away, so you just grabbed your goblet and drank some of the apple juice you’d served yourself earlier. 

“You alright?” Remus asked, concerned. 

You nodded, Sirius walked back, looking guilty, and sat down beside you “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“For what?” you frowned, confused.

“I could’ve tried to stop the ball, and all I did was yank your head for you to see it.” 

“Aww… Sirius is worried about me,” you teased, trying to lighten up the mood “I’m good tho, you do remember I’m a quidditch girl, right? I’m used to getting hit by quaffles.” Sirius shook his head with a little smile forming, “Besides, it was Potter who left me in the line of action,” you emphasised "Potter" so that he would hear you. He turned to you mortified. 

“I’m sorry,” he said as he turned to you frantically “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t calculate you were behind me, I’m a seeker, dodging is almost all I do.” 

You looked at him with a frown and then laughed, letting your head fall back. James looked completely distraught. “It’s fine James, I was only teasing you.” 

Lily gave James a look of disdain “But you should’ve caught it,” she said before pulling a list from her bag “Now, changing the subject, these are going to be the extra-curriculars for this year.” She placed the list in the centre of the table. 

You leaned in to take a look, “Apparition?” You asked, “On 6th?” 

Beth nodded “I’ve been waiting for this course since 1st, they say Dumbledore is the teacher sometimes.” 

“I’m up for that one,” you said, and Lily wrote your name next to apparition. 

“You can still choose something else since apparition is only a 12-week course.” 

“Uh… Magical Theory?” You asked, looking through the list. 

“It’s for creating spells,” said James. 

“We’ve been taking it since 3rd,” Remus chimed.

“You’d probably like it,” concluded Sirius. 

“I’ll take that one too, then.” You told Lily, who wrote your name on it, “Though Ghoul studies sounds good too.” 

“Oh, well, the times clash, but if you want you can come to the Tuesday class with me?” She offered with a smile. You nodded, and then she continued asking the rest of your classmates about their selection for the year. 

Once she was done, everyone stood up and you all walked together to your Defence Against the Dark Arts Class. The teacher had moved all the chairs and tables to the back of the room, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the room. 

Professor Nightshade was leaning on her desk, looking as graceful as ever, with a little smirk as everyone walked in. “Today, we will be learning how to deal with Boggarts.” The atmosphere in the room quickly became tense. “Mr. Pettigrew, please step forward.” 

Peter gulped and walked towards Seraphina, who whispered something in his ear. He nodded, still with a worried look and the professor walked towards a large chest she’d placed at the front, opening it. Some mist came out and it started to transform into a giant rat trap. 

You heard Sirius burst out into a laugh from behind you, James jabbed him with his elbow and gave him a warning look. Sirius nodded, giving James an apologetic look. 

“Riddikulus!” Said Peter from the front, and the cheese on the trap started growing and growing until it ripped through the cage and caused it to break down. Everyone laughed, causing the boggart to sink back into his chest.

“Excellent work Mr. Pettigrew!” She said and called Beth to the front. When the boggart came out it turned into a huge piece of magical chess, a knight with a giant sword, lunging at her.

She looked to the side, placing her hand over her hand in instinct, “Riddikulus!” She half screamed, the sword became an air balloon and the horse had turned into a cute Merry Go Round one instead. Everyone laughed at it. 

 Seraphina urged everyone to make a line, and soon enough everyone was facing their own boggart. Sirius dressed his mother in a childish way, with ponytails and everything, Remus made the moon blow up into hundreds of sparkly confetti. Lily turned a Death Eater into a clown. And then it was your turn.

Lily gave you a thumbs up as you walked closer to your teacher, “What do you expect to see?” She asked you calmly. 

“I… I don’t know, not sure how a boggart would represent loneliness,” you said, trying to add a bit of humour to the situation. She nodded and walked towards the chest, asking with a rise of her eyebrows if you were ready, you nodded. Soon the dark mist turned into the creature from your nightmares. You stared at it in shock, it looked as imposing and dangerous as it did in your dreams, and then it growled. 

From the back of the room, Remus gave a worried look to his friends. “How can she–“ started Sirius. 

“–be scared of Moony?” finished James with a frown. 

“We haven’t even had a full moon since she got to the castle. There’s no way she’s seen him.” Whispered Peter. 

You took a while to react, Seraphina was about to intervene but you raised your wand and whispered “Riddikulus!”. As you steadied your breaths the giant creature started becoming smaller, turning into a small little chihuahua dog, causing the entire class to burst into a laugh. 

Tom walked from the side and placed an arm over your shoulder, still laughing “That was brilliant (Y/L/N). Didn’t expect you to be scared of werewolves, tho.” 

You turned your head back to the place where the boggart had stood earlier “That- That was a werewolf?” 

Tom nodded “We saw them last year on DADA, it's a short chapter, but that’s exactly what they look like.” 

You frowned, trying to acknowledge the information. You took a deep breath and went to take a seat, Lily walked towards you then, “You ok?” She asked. She already knew about Remus’ condition and wanted to ask if he was alright too, but he was already having a hushed talk with the boys. 

“That was it.” You said, “It’s the creature from my nightmares!” 

Lily stayed next to you, rubbing circles on your back, taking quick glances at Remus every couple of minutes. So far, Remus and you had hit it off well, in fact, you’d gotten closer to the boys in a week than most people had in the 5 years they’d been together. 

Meanwhile, Remus’ head was in a whirlwind. While James, Peter and Sirius discussed how it was possible that your boggart had been Moony he couldn’t stop himself from going down a self-destructing hole. His new friend was scared of him because he was nothing more than the scary monster Witches told their children about at night. He was the boogie man of the wizarding world. 

When the class was over, Remus excused himself and went straight into the common room, you’d had enough time to relax along with Lily and decided to approach the boys, pulling out your quidditch gear from your backpack. You frowned when you noticed someone was missing “Where did Remus go? I thought he was going to come see the try-outs.” 

“He said he was feeling a bit shaken,” said Peter and started walking, being quick to change the topic “You feeling ready?” 

“I was born ready,” you answered cockily, tightening the ponytail Sirius had made for you earlier. As if cue he walked closer to you and grabbed a stray hair from the braid he’d done on the side of your head and set it back in its place. You were still getting used to Sirius’ touchiness, so you cleared your throat “James, you took my broom to the pitch earlier, right?” you asked, he nodded in response. 

As you arrived at the imposing field, you saw a long table placed close to the bleachers, Potter and Sirius walked towards the table taking a seat next to Marlene, and a tall curly-haired boy who you identified as the Gryffindor Head Boy. 

“Gather 'round everyone!” Shouted Marlene, all the kids that aspired made a line in front of the table. 

Both older and younger kids stood next to you, all looked eager to show off their flying skills to the Gryffindor team. 

James stood up, and everyone became quiet, he smiled “All right lads, first we’re testing speed.” He said with a smile “Grab your brooms, and do three laps around the castle.” 

You nodded, hovering over the air in a line, along with the rest of the students trying out. Marlene and Sirius went up in the air towards key spots before James gave you the sign to go. You took off and went straight towards the first mark line. James and Teddy had charmed golden light hoops in the air that you had to pass through if you wanted your laps to count. As you were flying you saw Sirius marking the speed of the players with a chronometer and Marlene making sure everyone was following the rules. You were the first one to get back to the pitch, followed by a brunette girl with an athletic build. 

“(Y/LN), Davis! Excellent job,” said Teddy when he saw the two of you arrive. 

The rest of the kids arrived one by one afterwards. James smiled, as Sirius and Teddy talked in the back, writing notes on the parchments. “Excellent job everyone, now it’s time for the next exercise. You will be playing a tag game.” He said as Teddy came forward and handed each of you a handkerchief. “The game is simple, you will place the handkerchief on your belt. And the rest of the players will try to take it from you. If you lose your handkerchief, you’re out. You will be evaluated on how much you last, and how many handkerchieves you get in the end. The court is the limit, like in a quidditch game. If you fly off limits, you’re out of the game. Any questions?” 

A smaller boy raised his hand “What if someone pushes us?” 

James nodded “Great question! Same rules as quidditch will apply for this game. Sirius and Marlene will make sure you’re not committing any fouls. Your game starts in 3…2…1… Go!” 

You were in the air in an instant. Far higher than everyone else, to get a good view of everyone. You spotted the boy who’d asked the question earlier and you dived straight towards him, passing by him, swiftly taking his handkerchief in your hands before he even noticed he was out, you took a break right before hitting the ground and continued speeding in the lower parts of the court, passing over the table where Teddy and James were sitting, causing some of his parchments to fly around, Sirius laughed when he noticed. 

“Show Off!” James shouted at you as he adjusted his glasses and rearranged the parchments with a wave of his wand. 

As you flew off, you turned back to give him a small wink and located your next target, a red-haired boy that looked about your age, you assumed he was a seventh year since you hadn’t seen him in your classes. You propelled yourself forward and shot up like an arrow in his direction, dodging the Davis girl as she attempted to claim your handkerchief. You took the redhead’s handkerchief in the blink of an eye and continued flying in circles like a hawk, placing yourself in the highest spot. 

You saw Davis turn to you, a smirk on her face as she shot upwards, thinking you hadn’t noticed. But you dived down straight towards her, like a game of chicken. Neither of you broke off the path until you were almost touching each other. Everyone was staring in awe and worry at the two when you turned your whole broom upside down, passing right beneath her and taking her handkerchief. She landed shortly after, still stunned by your manoeuvre, sitting along the Redheaded boy and establishing a chat. 

By now, most players had been taken out by the few that were left on the field. A younger-looking boy, who flew gracefully to avoid being taken out. A heavier girl with blonde hair that was looking around trying to find someone to catch and Tim, a boy from your class whom you weren’t particularly close with. You dove for him as the younger boy flew towards the blonde girl. You got Tim’s handkerchief, but the smaller younger boy had been faster to take the girl’s cloth and went straight for you, too fast for you to notice. Taking it seconds after you’d outed Tim. You saw him swiftly pass in front of you and waved with a smile and your handkerchief in his hand, before he flew towards James and the rest of the team, you followed behind him, shaking your head as you admired the boy’s skill. 

By the time you got down, everyone was taking their handkerchiefs out. You had taken a total of 4, and tied with Davis, who also had gotten four. The smaller boy, who’d taken yours, had 6 handkerchiefs, counting his own. 

“Gale! That was brilliant!” Marlene praised him. He smiled at that, meanwhile Teddy and James were busy talking to each other. 

After a couple of minutes James stepped forward “Now we’re testing for keepers’ abilities,” he said motioning towards the hoops, One by one you’ll take turns, Teddy, someone chosen randomly and I will be trying to score, while Mckinnon and Black will be doing their job and trying to throw you off your brooms with the bludgers. It’ll be like a quidditch game, except, you will only have yourself to defend the goals, and maybe a little help from beaters, who will also attempt to throw the bludgers at us… Questions?” No one said anything “Fantastic! (Y/LN), you’ll be scoring with me and Teddy in the first couple of rounds, Davis, you’re defending.” 

As you flew into the air you saw James throw the ball towards the left hoop, Davis saw it coming and he blocked it with his broom, you dived for the ball and once you had it you saw a bludger coming in your direction, you flew downwards and threw the ball to Teddy, who scored. You turned towards Sirius, who had batted the bludger towards you with a reproaching expression. “Sorry love,” he mouthed before flying towards the other bludger, shooting it at Davis, who managed to dodge it but left an opening for James, who had the quaffle, to score. By the end of his time, the girl had successfully blocked around 70% of the shots. 

Next up, was the redhead boy you’d taken the handkerchief from. You were still playing as a chaser, but Teddy was switched by Davis, so now the two of you were working as a team, and damn did you make a mean team. Davis passed the ball when she saw an opening and you scored several times, so did she. James was impressed by your coordination, especially after the chicken game you’d played in your brooms in the tag exercise. The redhead stopped around 50% of your shorts. 

With the next person they kept the same player set, and Tim managed to stop around 70% of your shots. The more you and Davis played together, the better the two became at guessing each other's shots. You already knew James well enough, so the three of you as chasers made an amazing team. Eventually, James switched with Teddy, and the three of you were almost unstoppable, leaving everyone with a 50% or less block rate. Gale, the boy who’d taken the handkerchief from you, was up, and he was good, he stopped almost 90% of the shots. When it was your turn, James made you switch places with Gale. 

He was a great chaser too, probably as good as he was as a keeper. Coordinating fantastically well with Teddy and Davis. As you stood your guard, you saw a bludger coming straight towards you, propelled by Marlene’s skillful shot, you instantly knew Gale would attempt to seize the opportunity and score, just like James had done earlier. So locked your gaze on him and as the bludger closed in on you, you swiftly manoeuvred your broom backwards, gaining the necessary traction to execute a handstand atop the handle, allowing the bludger to whizz through the narrow space between your head and the broom while your suspended legs propelled the quaffle aside, successfully blocking Gale's shot.  

The strain on your arms intensified, and gravity tugged at your legs, urging you downward. Acting swiftly, you yanked your broom, executing a seamless 180 until it was once again nestled between your legs. You heard some of the spectators from the bleachers gasp and cheer when they saw your manoeuvre. Shifting your focus back to the chasers, their impressed expressions fueled your determination. Gale, in particular, was so stunned he momentarily froze, until Teddy hurled the quaffle towards him jolting him back into action.

He grabbed the quaffle and attempted to score again, you blocked the shot with the back end of your broom. By the end of your time, you started getting a bit more tired, the sky was getting dark and the cold was kicking in. You started feeling sluggish, your hands were so cold you cursed yourself for not bringing gloves, and they hurt from gripping your broom so tightly. 

With all of the factors combined, you became slower, you had been flying for at least 4 hours at this point and you hadn’t flown that much since the past June or something. Eventually, the chasers managed to score like 3 times. One after you got a cramp on your left hand, and tried to shake it off, the other one when Teddy did a sick feint, making you think he would score and shoot the ball to Gale, who scored from the other side. In a real game, that goal would’ve been disqualified since the two of them were in the zone, but today, it counted because it was practice. The last one was because Sirius shot a bludger to your face and you ducked, flying towards the left hoop where Davis had shot the quaffle, but even as you stretched your arm, it didn’t reach on time. You blocked a few more shots made by the three of them and James called the end of your turn, letting everyone come down towards the grass. In the end, you had managed to block about 95% of the shots, according to the redhead boy, who was animatedly talking with Tim. 

You were so tired that you decided to lean onto your broom, using it as support as James spoke “All right, if you hear your name, please step forward,” he said before adjusting his glasses and grabbing onto a list “Tim Klum, Lucas Platanis, Anne Davis, Gale Thomas and (Y/N)(Y/LN).” You all took a step forward. “Tim, Lucas, you’re gonna be on reserve, mainly as chasers, but McKinnon and Black will train you as beaters in case any of them can’t make it to the match.” 

“Davis,” he said looking at the blonde girl “You’ll be a chaser.” She nodded and jumped excitedly. “And finally, Gale and (Y/N), you’re as good as each other, you were both excellent chasers and keepers, Gale you proved to have more resistance, especially towards the end when (Y/N) looked a lot more tired, but she had a better block to shot ratio than you did on the keeper test, which is why, she’ll get to decide which position she’d like to play.” 

You looked at him with your eyes opened wide, and he nodded in reassurance, a soft, ecourging smile accompanying his nod “I- um…” you stammered. “I think I’ll be a keeper?” 

James nodded “It’s settled then. You may go rest.” 

“Hey (Y/LN),” called Teddy “You’d make a really mean seeker, you know that right?” 

You smiled “I was a seeker in my older school,” you told him politely “And I can totally cover for James should he need it, but I’m pretty thrilled with the idea of being the keeper for the team. I like a good challenge.” 

“All the keepers from the other teams are boys,” he informed “You will need to perfect your resistance and be extremely careful when we play Slytherin, they won’t hold their shots just because you’re a girl.” 

You were taken aback “I sure hope they don’t!” You responded, “It’d be too boring.” 

He smiled at that and gave you a pat on the shoulder “I’m excited to have you on our team.” 

Once Teddy left you to go talk to Gale, Marlene approached you, with a huge grin on her face “You made it!” She said as she grabbed your shoulders, “And you’re so fast too!” She praised. 

“Thanks,” you said with a blush creeping up your cheeks, yeah, you may be able to be cocky on the playing field, but when someone you admire praises you like that, you will get shy, it’s how the world works. 

“Oh,” she grabbed onto your arm and linked it with hers “I’ll be so refreshing to have you on the team, although you’ll see Potter can sometimes get a bit in the control maniac mood, especially when we’re close to a game.” 

“Don’t talk shit about others behind their back, Marlene!” You hear James shout from the table, as he was packing up the stuff. 

“He heard that?” You asked with a frown. 

 She shook her head “He just knows me well.” 

As you continued walking Peter, Lily and Mary joined you, “It was brilliant, that backflip? I’d never seen someone do it in school!” Peter mused as he walked beside you. 

“I– thanks!” you mustered.

You frowned as you looked through the field “Remus didn’t make it?” You asked, Peter and Lily exchanged an awkward glance between the two of them “Is he still feeling off?”

Lily was quick to nod “he said it might have been the food.” 

You frowned, neither you, nor Remus had eaten that much, and you were pretty sure you’d both had only a couple of bites of the same Shepard pie, so whatever he had, wasn’t because of the food. But you decided to push the thought to the back of your mind. You arrived at the great hall shortly after, with Peter going over the highlights of the tryouts, praising you over and over, and mentioning how excited he was for the first game with the new line-up. 

When you arrived he started telling Beth about it, who hadn’t been able to go because she was still in detention with Professor Nightshade. “And then she did this freaking amazing handstand-backflip, dodging the bludger Marlene had shot at her, AND–“ he paused dramatically “blocking the god damned quaffle Gale had shot. It was brilliant Beth, you should’ve seen it.” 

“Oi, wormy, stop talking about her like she’s a freaking superhero, it’s gonna get on her head,” said Sirius as he placed his arm over your shoulders “She’s already pretty haughty as it is.” 

You turned to him with a fake offended expression “Haughty? But look who’s talking?” 

“I’m not haughty!” 

“Sirius, you might be the cockiest person I know.” 

“Well, then, we’ll make quite a pair,” he said with an air of disdain. 

Once sitting at the dinner table you grabbed a couple of desserts and placed them on your plate. James raised his eyebrows as he motioned towards it “Only sweet stuff?” 

“I’m knackered,” you complained “I need this, urgently.” 

He raised his hands in surrender. “Just curious.” 

You nodded and gave a bite to your scone. Moaning from how freaking good it was. “The elves outdid themselves today.” 

“Or you’re just hungry,” said Sirius, you pulled another scone and shoved it in front of his face, and he gave it a small bite. He moaned too, taking the scone from your hands and eating it by himself. 

“You were saying?” He rolled his eyes with a little smile in response, nudging you with his shoulder. 

While that exchange was happening Mary leaned down to whisper something at Lily “They’re even feeding each other now!” She said in a half excited tone. 

Lily turned to her “Stop it! They’re gonna hear you.” 

Once you were done eating, and realised Remus hadn’t made it down for dinner,  you grabbed a couple of scones and toast. Since you didn’t know what Remus liked on his toast with, you grabbed all the spreads and put them on different sections of the toast, making a very funny-looking and colourful piece of bread. You placed a piece of bread on top and then put everything on a cloth napkin. 

James had gone to talk to Teddy and everyone was still eating, so you excused yourself, “Imma head back now,” you said to Lily, “kinda tired.” She nodded in acknowledgment and waved you goodbye. It took you a couple of minutes to get to the fat lady’s portrait but once there you whispered the passwords and walked into the common room. You spotted Remus sitting in front of the fireplace with a blanket over him, his legs bent and his arms wrapped around them, staring at the fire as if it were the most interesting thing.

“Hey!” You said with a smile “Lily told us you were feeling off.” 

He looked up at you, and nodded “How did you do?” 

You walked over, sitting almost beside him “I made it to the team,” you smiled “Peter can’t stop talking about it. I think I surprised him with a little trick I did.” 

“Congrats!” 

“I brought you this,” you said raising your hand with the napkin on top, “they said it might have been your stomach, some sweets could make you feel better.” 

He smiled “Thank you,” he said “I was a bit shaken by the boggart, I guess.” 

You nodded “I can relate.” He winced but you didn’t notice as you were looking at the fire. “The scones are out of this world,” you said as you handed the napkin over to him. He unwrapped the knot at the top and grabbed one of them, giving it a bite and smiling. 

“Mhmmm…” 

You smiled “Told ya,” you took a deep breath and let yourself fall on top of the rug. Placing your hands under your head for support. “Sometimes when I’m feeling bad, I like looking at the sky.” 

He chuckled, “I’m not such a big fan.” 

“You don’t like stargazing?” You asked, frowning and turning your head back to look at him. 

“No, I- do like stars,” he corrected “but I sometimes find all the other stuff, a little anxiety-inducing.”

“Only stars then,” you said, smiling as an idea popped in your head. You pulled your wand and started launching bright balls of light to the ceiling, recreating the night sky as best as you remembered. 

Eventually, he let himself fall on the rug beside you, “What are you doing?” He asked. 

You smiled mischievously and pointed at the candles that surrounded the room “Nox,” you whispered, suddenly the lights at the top of the ceiling were the only visible thing, making it look like a clear night sky “There you go, only stars.” 

Remus laughed, “You know, they’ve got a similar thing on the Ravenclaw tower.” 

“Do they? Is it as pretty as mine?” 

He laughed, “Theirs was cast by Rowena Ravenclaw.” 

You chuckled “Well, theirs might be prettier, but this one?” you pointed at the ceiling “this one is ours.” You had replicated the night sky as best as you remembered, but you’d also added several stars that didn’t really exist, one for each one of your friends, and they were the brightest.

“That’s yours,” you said pointing at one of them “That one is Peter’s, next to James’, obviusly. Sirius is on Canis Major,” you said, drawing the lines in between the stars with your wand. “But he’s brighter than the rest,” you said, since you hadn’t added an extra star for him, just made his brighter. 

Remus chuckled “He is indeed.” There was a comfortable silence and Remus spoke again “And you?” 

“Me? I guess I didn’t make myself one.” 

He then grabbed his wand and threw a small but bright light towards the ceiling. 

“A comet?” You asked as you realised the trail of light trailing behind the star he’d created.  

“I’ve always found them intriguing. They appear suddenly, blazing across the sky,” He said, “kind of like the way you showed up, out of nowhere.” 

You laughed “Well, at least they’re pretty, even if fleeting.”

“But you won’t be,” he said pointing at the comet he’s created, “It’ll circle through the rest of the stars you made, forever.” 

You took a deep breath, realising how fast you’d been accepted by Hogwarts and your new friends. They had all been so kind, guiding and welcoming. Never leaving you out, even inviting you to clubs and other reunions they had created long ago. You knew the fact that you’d met Sirius before was of great help, but in this moment, you realised, that even without meeting him, Remus, and James and Lily and Marlene and everyone would’ve been just as welcoming. You remembered a line from a book you’d read long ago “Profound connections can be formed in the briefest of encounters.” 

It happened with Sirius during your vacation, and now it was happening here in Hogwarts too. And you smiled, looking at the sky you’d created. Moving to England might have been one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

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A/N: My sweet boy Remus deserves the world. Barty is a little deranged, but thet's why we love him, I'm sure he'll hold a grudge for what happened, though. Little sneak peak: next episode is gonna be spicy, so stay tuned <3