#so even though it's long i hope this poem was to your liking friend

[queenlucythevaliant]

🪆would love one featuring Russian thoughts on God! ✝️

SO. I could have sworn that I've posted "Avvakum in Pustozyorsk" on this blog before, but I can't seem to find it so here it is.

(For context, this is written in the voice of a 17th century Russian Orthodox priest and religious dissident (an "Old Believer"). Avvakum was sent to the military outpost of Pustozyorsk where he was imprisoned four fourteen years, then eventually burned at the stake. It uses this historical voice to reflect on the religious persecution of the Soviet era. Also, it's fairly long, so I've highlighted my favorite stanzas.)

Avvakum in Pustozyorsk The walls of my church are the ribs round my heart; it seems life and I are soon bound to part. My cross now rises, traced with two fingers. In Pustozyorsk it blazes; its blaze will linger. I’m glorified everywhere, vilified, branded; I have already become the stuff of legend: I was, people say, full of anger and spite; I suffered, I died for the ancient rite. But this popular verdict is ugly nonsense; I hear and reject the implied censure. A rite is nothing – neither wrong nor right; a rite is a trifle in God’s sight. But they attacked our faith and the ways of the past, in all we’d learned as children, and taken to heart. In their holy garments, in their grand hats, with a cold crucifix in their cold hands, in thrall to a terror clutching their souls, they drag us to jails and herd us to scaffolds. We don’t debate doctrine, of books and their age; we don’t debate virtues of fetters and chains. Our dispute is of freedom, and the right to breathe – about our Lord’s will to bind as he please. The healers of souls chastised our bodies; while they schemed and plotted, we ran to the forests. Despite their decrees, we hurled our words out of the lion’s mouth and into the world. We called for vengeance against their sins along with the Lord; we sang poems and hymns. The words of the Lord were claps of thunder. The Church endures; it will never go under. And I, unyielding, reading the Psalter, was brought to the gates of the Andronikov Monastery. I was young; I endured every pain: hunger, beatings, interrogations. A winged angel shut the eyes of the guard, brought me cabbage soup and a hunk of bread. I crossed the threshold – and I walked free. Embracing my exile, I walked to the East. I held services by the Amur River, where I barely survived the winds and blizzards. They branded my cheeks with brands of frost; by a mountain stream they tore out my nostrils. But the path to the Lord goes from jail to jail; the path to the Lord never changes. And all too few, since Jesus’s days, have proved able to bear God’s all-seeing gaze. Nastasia, Nastasia, do not despair; true joy often wears a garment of tears. Whatever temptations may beat in your heart, whatever torments may rip you apart, walk on in peace through a thousand troubles and fear not the snake that bites at your ankles – though not from Eden has this snake crawled; it is an envoy of evil from Satan’s world. Here, birdsong is unknown; here one learns patience and the wisdom of stone. I have seen no colour except lingonberry in fourteen years spent as a prisoner. But this is not madness, nor a waking dream; it is my soul’s fortress, its will and freedom. And now they are leading me far away and in fetters; my yoke is easy, my burden grows lighter. My track is swept clean dusted with silver; I’m climbing to heaven on wings of fire. Through cold and hunger, through grief and fear, towards God, like a dove, I rise from the pyre. O far-away Russia – I give you my vow to return from the sky, forgiving my foes. May I be reviled, and burned at the stake; may my ashes be cast on the mountain wind. There is no fate sweeter, no better end, than to knock, as ash, at the human heart.

--Varlam Shalamov

[agxxb]

Heyo, is it possible to request you some fluff smut for Eloise Bridgerton with a fem!reader ? 🥺

Have a nice day/night. ❤️

hiii, thank you for the request!! i hope you like :))

Touch Me There .𖥔 ݁ ˖

eloise bridgertonx f!reader

summary: you and eloise go to your usual spot… to read, nothing else.

warnings: soft smut. vaginal fingering & clit rubbing. first time for both of them. no use of y/n. [1k]

“Which book have you brought with you today?”

“Today, Miss Bridgerton, I am reading ‘The Corsair’,” you replied, a smile on your face as you talked more formally.

Eloise rolled her eyes at your antics. “Well, I am reading ‘Gulliver’s Travels’.”

You had previously showed an interest in the book, mentioning how you had been wanting to read it for a while. You smiled to yourself, a soft one that was aimed at her despite not making eye-contact.

“How much have you read?” you asked your friend, finally looking up at her.

“Only the beginning. I have read up to chapter three, and it is mesmerising how Jonathan Swift describes even the blandest of things.”

“Tell me more,” you insisted, your smile still on your face, only growing as she rambled excitedly.

However, whilst she was maundering, you were not paying attention. Instead, you were too focused on something else.

You loved to watch Eloise partake in her passions, even more so when you had the privilege of bearing witness to it. You had always found her beautiful, a comfort to be around.

Deep pools of glacial blue, her eyes were a perfect spring sky, always full of excitement and joy — especially when near a book. Eloise’s smile was warmer than a summer’s day, and her colour-infused cheeks dimpled with a blossoming smile that only true happiness could bring to light.

You blinked, snapping yourself out of your daydream. She was still talking, and you smiled gently to yourself. You wished nothing more than to lean forward, to connect your lips with hers and feel how soft they were. They moved like a poem would rhyme, and the way she talked was so much more than words.

Before she could say anything else, you listened to your impulses. You moved forward, placing your lips to hers. They were much softer than you had believed them to be, so delicate.

You suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and swimming with guilt. It had hit you, what you had done. You were drowning with a sinful feeling in your chest, half expecting a lighting bolt to hit you despite the sun shining through the leaves of the tree you sat under.

“I am so sorry. I do not know what came over me. I-”

Without being able to finish yourself, Eloise had placed a palm against your cheek and brought you in closer. Your lips slotted together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally being put together.

You made a noise – one in between surprise and pleasure – and kissed back. Eloise placed a hand on your cheek and reciprocated the sound , moving closer to you.

The kiss – which had started off slow, hesitant – grew passionate, and more eager. One of your hands moved to her waist, gently squeezing and hearing her moan quietly.

You pulled back slightly, close enough to feel her breath on your face. Your eyes flickered between hers, checking for any signs of regret or uncertainty.

“Please do not stop,” Eloise pleaded with you, her voice a whisper.

She moved forward, reconnecting your lips. You leaned closer, allowing her to lay down with you beside her. You hovered slightly over her, one hand still on her waist whilst hers were on your cheeks.

There was an ache in between your legs, growing stronger with each sound that left Eloise’s throat. You knew what it was, you had started touching yourself not too long ago — and always to the thought of your friend. You felt disgusted in yourself after you had reached your peak, reality setting in. You were meant to have those thoughts about a man, and yet here you were, holding onto Eloise Bridgerton as though your life depended on it.

Your hand moved up to cup her breast, the sensation making her moan once again, her chest arching up towards you. They fit perfectly in your palm, your fingers squeezing around it gently.

“There is an ache,” Eloise pulled back to say, voice hushed as though it were a secret. “Between my legs.”

“Would you like me to do something about it?”

She nodded instantly, bringing you in for another kiss. Your hand moved down from her breast to her leg, flicking your wrist to get under the skirt. Her skin was soft, hair faint against your fingertips as you ran them against her thigh.

Her legs opened voluntarily, granting you the access you oh so wished for. You teased the insides of her thighs, something you did to work yourself up.

Eloise’s hips jolted as you made contact with her warmth, fingers quickly becoming wet. She pulled back from the kiss to let out a moan, eyes closing as you rubbed her swollen clit.

“Feels so good.”

Her hand moved down to squeeze your arm, head thrown back and hair mingling with the grass. You were touching her the way you would touch yourself, unaware of the different ways to pleasure another.

You moved your fingers down, slowly pushing two in and curling them inside her. She moaned loudly, head thrown backwards and hair mingling with the grass. Her eyes squeezed shut and her brows furrowed together, and you had never bore witness to such a descry, or heard such a beautiful melody.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to her neck, and smiled upon hearing her moan. You sped up your movements upon hearing her moans get louder and higher in pitch. Not long after, you felt her squeezing around your fingers. You wanted to make her feel amazing, and so did whatever you could to achieve that goal.

You only slowed down when you felt Eloise’s hand on your wrist. She breathed out, chest rising and heartbeat rapid. Her cheeks were red, the blush of roses and the peek of champagne pink.

You removed your fingers, the pads all wrinkled and still wet. You got curious, bringing them to your mouth and sucking on them. You moaned quietly at the taste. It was amazing.

Before you could say anything, Eloise suddenly sat up with wide eyes, looking around and scanning the area. “Where is my book?”

[a3therc0r3]

Boiling Blood

co-creator: @dragonspoems

summary: you wrote poetry during your time on Philos in your and Sylus’ own language; the poems found their way onto Earth and are now highly sought after, working to be decoded and being sold in auctions for billions. When Sylus learns about the poems, he immediately knows who wrote them, recognizing their language instantly. He has now made it his goal to hunt down as many of these poems as he can while simultaneously searching for you. 

content: sylus x f!reader, angst, past-relationship, pre-relationship, poetry, spoilers for sylus' myth

word count: 2,261

a/n: this is my first ever time posting on tumblr so i hope you enjoy!! i have some more fics coming in the near future(fluff, i promise-) also HUGE thank you to my amazing friend and collaborator @dragonspoems who not only wrote the poem in this fic but also gave me the idea for this fic!! go show them some love! this fic was also posted on ao3

first part is from sylus' POV

Appearances can be deceiving. For example, on the outside, one may see a violent lion, while on the inside, there is simply a shaking kitten. On the outside, one may see a calm, collected, well-kept man who sips occasionally on the venue-provided wine; swirling it around his glass in boredom. On the inside, his mind is racing, his eyes scanning the crowd and glancing back down to the list of goods. His knee bouncing as each item is sold off in a painstakingly long manner. Couldn’t they just get to what was important? What everyone was truly here for? Of course they couldn’t, you have to save the best things for last. 

Sylus watched as other guests whispered to one another, sharing rumors about the ancient writing that everyone was anticipating. They would lazily raise their paddles to pass the time, betting on a much less interesting artifact. A protocore here, a painting there, all while mumbling to their friends about the bits of this writing that had been released to the public. Hushed voices muttering about the beauty, the romance of the words. His beloved’s words. His. No one else’s. They didn’t deserve to read her literature, didn’t deserve to even attempt to translate their language. They didn’t watch from far away when she scribbled in a notebook. They didn’t know how her hands would smell of ink when she touched his face. They didn’t know anything and they never should.

Sylus’ grip on the list had tightened unconsciously to the point that his nails pierced through the paper. It had practically crumpled in on itself, his chest heaving as thoughts spun out of control. The masked twins beside him glanced at one another before leaning in slightly and whispering, 

“Boss? Are you alright?”

Sylus snapped out of his haze, clearing his throat and taking another sip of wine. The twins righted themselves and nodded, knowing to leave well enough alone. They knew better than anyone in here that hell was about to break loose the minute the poem was brought out. There was a high probability that it would end in bloodshed, considering how important this was to their boss; then again, there was always a possibility things could end in bloodshed with Sylus. 

After what felt like hours of waiting, the auctioneer finally grinned and leaned toward the microphone, 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen is the product that I have a feeling the majority of you are here to see. The antique poem is thought to have been preserved all the way from Philos,” guests leaned forward, their interests piqued, “Very few of these pages have been found, and even fewer have been translated from their original language. However, from what we can tell, these poems seem to be the story of beauty, tragic romance, the tale literally as old as time.” The man chuckled to himself, resting his weight on his hands placed on the edges of the podium, “Your faces tell me that many of you are already interested. Since these are so rare, I expect that there will be quite the competition, though we must ask that you all maintain your composure. Now, let’s start the bidding at fifteen million.”

Paddles raised instantly, calling out higher numbers on top of each other. Sylus crossed his legs and let his head rest against the back of his booth, his fingers turning the paddle over in his hand. He’d let them have their fun, wait until the cost had gone up before chiming in. 

“Fifty million from one forty-three, do I hear sixty? Sixty million anyone?” 

Guests continue to holler out their bids, waving their paddles impatiently. The auctioneer spoke a million miles a minute, pointing to each guest as he acknowledged the prices. Sylus remained silent until the bids had risen into the hundred millions. 

“One hundred and seventy million from Mr. Abrams, we are getting up there, ladies and gentlemen, do I hear eighty?”

Sylus raised his paddle, “Two hundred million.” His voice boomed above the others, a few turning to look at the unfamiliar vote. 

“Two hundred million! From Mr…” the auctioneer moved to spot him through the sea of heads, taking the microphone with him, “Mr. Sylus! Such an honor to have you here, sir! Two hundred million from Mr. Sylus, do I hear two hundred and ten? Two-ten, anyone?” 

A paddle was raised. So, they wanted to keep fighting? Bold move. The bidding continued, raising to two hundred and thirty million before Sylus spoke once more.

“Three hundred million.” The auctioneer practically laughed, “Three- three hundred million from Mr. Sylus! Another decent raise! Do I hear three-ten?”

Another paddle raised, “Three-fifty million,” the voice chimed out.

“Three hundred and fifty from this fine lady! Do I hear-”

The man didn’t get the chance to finish before Sylus cut in, “Four hundred million.” The woman who had placed the previous bet, turned from her seat to glare at Sylus, earning a smirk in response. 

“Four hundred million! The heat is cranking up here! Do I hear four hundred and fifty million?” The man strolled to the edge of the auction block, grinning as he spoke.

A paddle raised.

“Four hundred and fifty million from Mr. Abrams! Do I hear five hundred?” At this rate, it would take an hour to get the poetry. All Sylus wanted was something to remember her by, anything from his past life to cling onto while he searched for his beloved. Something to keep him sane in the meantime. He’d indulged them for long enough and now his patience was wearing thin. Sylus raised his paddle once more.

“One billion.”

More guests turned their heads, whispering to themselves as to why the leader of Onychinus would want a piece of poetry so bad. The auctioneer clapped dramatically, trying to excite the room, even though he had asked for the opposite moments prior. “One billion! Now that is an offer of the century. It’s going to be hard to top that, folks.”

“One point two billion.” The man from earlier–Mr. Abrams–raised his paddle, eyeing Sylus as he did so. 

Oh, so that’s how you want to play. Sylus held his paddle up before the auctioneer could even point to Abrams, “One point five.”

“One point seven.”

“Two billion.”

“Three.” 

The auctioneer chuckled wearily to himself, “Gentlemen, please, wait a moment for me to-”

“Ten billion.” Sylus carefully put his gun on the table, pointing the barrel in Abrams as he crossed his arms. His right eye glowed with such intensity that it made Abrams shiver on the spot as if Sylus could kill him with a mere stare. He probably could. The twins unsheathed their weapons, a silent warning, and had the man closing his mouth before he could voice another offer. It was time to shut up. Mr. Abrams turned back to face the auctioneer, placing his paddle down with a hmph! His wife muttered something bitterly to him.

The auctioneer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “Ten billion from Mr. Sylus! Do I hear any higher offers? Anyone? Ten billion, going once, going twice? Sold to Mr. Sylus for ten billion! Congratulations, my good sir!” 

He continued moving on with the next item, but Sylus couldn't care less; he had gotten what he came here for. He rose, taking the last swig of his wine and placing his gun back into its holster. With a flick of his hand, the twins stepped back, allowing Sylus to walk towards the backstage area. A few guests stood to block his path, turning to him with pleading gazes.

“Mr. Sylus, surely I can offer you a much better deal to take the poem off your hands. I could even pay you back the ten billion you lost!” A man stepped forward, his hands clamped together as he spoke.

A woman beside him scoffed, “Please! You don’t even have half that amount,” she stepped towards Sylus, purposefully bumping her shoulder against the man’s before caressing the Onychinus leader’s arm, “I can give you money and a good time.” 

Sylus grimaced in disgust, pulling his arm away as another guest behind him chimed in, “I’ll give you my first-born daughter! A-and any valuables you want!” 

“I’ll give you my daughter and my wife!” a voice spoke from somewhere in the crowd, quickly followed by a slap and a woman yelling in a foreign language. 

The first woman tugged at his sleeve again, “Mr. Sylus, please! Just reconsider and I’ll make it worth your time!” 

Sylus pulled his arm away for a second time and glared at the crowd surrounding him, a red mist pushed through the mob, forcing them to make a path for him. “You’re all pathetic, you sit here and let people piss on you without even the courtesy of calling it rain,” he strode through the swarm of guests that were still whispering offers to him, the twins following close behind him. The auctioneer seemed to be frozen in awe, unsure of how to proceed with the event. When Sylus reached the curtain that separated the backstage from the rest of the room, he turned to his henchmen, “Make sure they don’t disturb us,” and with that, he disappeared behind the fabric. 

The auctioneer let out a nervous chuckle, “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats so we may continue with our schedule,” disappointed mumbles filling the silence as they complied. 

Behind the curtain, Sylus had been led to a private sitting room, where he awaited for the staff member to bring him his winnings. The flickering glow from the chandelier cast warmth through the room, hugging him in a mellow embrace. He crossed his legs, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpet. He could be wrong, the poem may not be what he thought they were. It could all be just a coincidence, every ounce of his past life was truly lost to a wind he would never feel again. Sylus grit his teeth and glared down at the rug, thoughts racing. 

A knock on the door interrupted his pondering, the woman that had escorted him stepped back into the room with a smile, “Your purchase, sir.” She handed him a leather binder with gloved hands and stepped back against the wall. 

He waved a dismissive hand at her. She bowed, seemingly disappointed, “We thank you for your appearance,” and with that, he was left alone. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, opening the binder with a shaky hand. A yellowed and faintly crinkled paper sat in a sheet protector. With careful fingers, Sylus pulled the paper from its film, rubbing his thumb over the familiar texture. He had recognized the handwriting immediately–it had been ingrained in his memory for as long as he could remember–the poem was exactly what he had hoped it was: one written by his beloved. Biting his lower lip, he read her scrawls, 

It’s been years, and yet I still couldn’t explain the ache, from what I was, my very essence. It was painful to contain it. 

It hurts so damn much, going through days knowing what fools I am surrounded by. They don’t know anything yet, born with silver spoons in their mouths, not a gem in their eyes. 

I wished to be like them. Ignorance is bliss to the things I’ve seen, letting them take more–all they think they need. 

Yet his voice, a devil’s call, to grow back my claws, to be the one he fell in love with, to be the one I am, the one I unforgivably was.

I knew that call. I knew that need–the need that claws inside of mine–to let the world be filled with traitors’ screams.

Killing what was mine, forcing my hands into the fire of unbeknownst burning in his chest. 

I hated him, loathed him for it, for he knew who I was–a beast, a creature within that wanted their blood, wanted to dance on their graves for all the wrongs they have done. 

Something in my mind telling me he was, he is mine, and mine alone. He belongs. I belong to no one but us, and the spirits of our own, souls of the same kind.

They banished and looked away, laughed and smiled, celebrated the unbecoming of something that was mine and mine alone. 

Soon enough they will know. They will find what they have done, through my everlasting boiling blood. 

I cannot blame him for what he did, for it is as well the doing of mine.

Sylus stared at the paper, biting his lip harder, blinking rapidly to banish the tears threatening to spill. He took another breath, cleared his throat, and looked down at the initials that sat at the bottom of the page. Your initials. Because it was always you, and it will only ever be. The only one he would spend billions on to read a few lines of poetry. 

Sylus gripped the paper tighter as if it would disintegrate in his very fingers, the same way he once had, lifetimes ago on another world. He gazed up into the flickering light of the chandelier; his mind had been made up the moment the fragments of his soul had blown through that breeze so long ago. He was going to find you, no matter how long it took. He would wait centuries, traverse hellscapes, die as many times as he needed to, to find his way back into the arms of his beloved.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello. I read your bg3 marriage headcanons and was wondering if you could do a follow-up on what their first anniversary would be like? also add rolan, even though he wasn't in the original. only if you want to.

BG3 - 1st Anniversary Headcanons

[original ask in question X]

Gale

What does Gale ‘grand gestures are my love language’ Dekarios have planned for your first anniversary? Oh nothing special.

Just all your favorite meals cooked & ready for you. Starting with breakfast in bed. A small, light picnic at your favorite shoreline spot to watch the tides come in and enjoy the sea air. Ending with a romantic candlelight dinner that would put some of the finest Baldurian restaurants to shame.

He gives you a book of love poems as your present. Paper is traditional for the first anniversary after all. It is furthermore inscribed with his own, original poem on the front cover for you.

Astarion

He actually isn’t aware it’s your anniversary. Until he is reminded by someone. It’s not that it’s not important to him. Astarion has just never celebrated one before. How could he, when none of his previous lovers ever even stayed the whole night?

He has to work fast. But luckily Astarion is extremely clever and resourceful.

Playing it off like it was his plan all along to ‘pretend’ to forget, only for you to be further surprised is simply part of his plan. He plays it off so well that you believe him when he tells you that he got you a new necklace because ‘it reminded him of your eyes’. He makes a mental note to remember next year and be more genuine in his efforts.

A!Astarion

Of course, Astarion remembers the day you officially became his. Body, soul, and now legally.

Part of it may just be the celebration of having something that’s his. He hasn’t had anything for so long that he goes overboard. And with you, his most prized treasure, he can’t help it either.

The day, like all your days, is just about the two of you. He has a portrait commissioned for the two of you and commits to having one done every year, so you remember what you look like & how happy you are together. The old ones are kept in an archive below for safe keeping.

Wyll

He’s been looking forward to this day almost as much as getting married to you, the love of his life.

If he chose to stay in the Gate and become the new Grand Duke Ravengard, Wyll will host a ball so that you can celebrate with all those you hold dear. Old and new friends. He has the bard’s college compose a new song to commemorate the occasion, one that he can lead his partner out to the dance floor with and waltz them around all night.

If he went to Avernus to continue as the Blade, they will waltz together, alone, on the stoney rocks of the Hells. While Wyll hums a private tune between them to keep the music going.

Halsin

Halsin isn’t much for ceremonies or constructs of time. Nature and time move hand-in-hand with one another without making much note of their relationship, and he feels that they should do the same.

But…he can appreciate that something like this should be marked & remembered.

He will make time to get away from his duties as ‘Daddy Halsin’ to be a husband for a while; no matter how short it might be. He carves them a beautiful ornament. Something of a remembrance of their year to hang on a tree by their home. Halsin tells them that he hopes, one day, it will be filled with as many happy memories as leaves. The tree growing as with their love for years to come.

+Rolan

Who has time for such frivolities? Rolan has an acclaimed magic shop & literary archive to run, along with the magical commitments he has as the new caretaker of Ramazith's Tower. Surely, as his partner, they must understand that.

Lia gives him an extremely firm talking to about how selfish and narrow-minded he is being. That it’s not just about him anymore it’s about them.

Though Rolan will never admit that she’s right, he does make it up to his spouse. Apologizing to them for being so callous and making an effort to be more ‘traditionally romantic’. He presents them with a single white rose. Enchanted, so that it will never die, never wilt, and never fade. “It will always be as pure and radiant as my love for you. Should I forget to tell you every day, look upon it and remember. Though, I will try to remember to tell you everyday until my last ones.”

[gardenwons]

The road to rejection

SYNOPSIS: Three miles, a pocket full of poems, and one stubborn poet knocking on the same door, hoping that no might eventually rhyme with yes. PAIRINGS: poet!jungwon x hard to get!reader GENRE: fluff just fluff, angst (if u squint), literally hopeless romantic vibes also lowk loser!jw i lovv A/N: inspired by henry wadsworth longfellow’s story with his wife, it was too sweet to not make jw a lovesick puppy. anws i highly suggest u guys read about his life lol

It started with a wrong turn.

Jungwon had been walking home from his poetry class, his head full of verses and not enough sense to look up from his notebook. The ink on the page was still wet when he crashed straight into you- books flying, curses slipping, and a coffee cup spilling down the front of your perfectly pressed blazer.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me" you hissed, stepping back as the dark stain spread across your perfectly pressed blazer, the smell of cheap espresso filling the air like a bad punchline to a joke you didn’t find funny.

Jungwon’s mouth fell open, eyes darting between the puddle on the pavement and the damage on your clothes. His heart stuttered, embarrassment rising faster than the heat in his face. He fumbled with clumsy hands, patting down his pockets for something..maybe a napkin, an apology, or even a way to reverse time. Nothing.

“Some tragedies are best written in stains” he blurted out before his brain caught up with his mouth. The words hung awkwardly between you as his eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to erase them from existence.

Your brows shot up, and your lips curled with scorn. “What?”

When he dared to look again, his gaze landed on your face, memorizing every curve and crease, the sharp arch of your brow, the twist of your lips as you exhaled in disbelief. Heat prickled the back of his neck, and his heart raced as if his own words had betrayed him.

You wiped at your ruined blazer with a resigned sigh, shaking your head as if dealing with a hopeless case. "Then I hope you’re a better poet than a pedestrian" you snapped, brushing past him with quick, purposeful steps.

He turned to watch you walk away, the words lingering like a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The sound of your voice echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgettable

The next morning, a poem sat crumpled in his hand as he knocked on the door he’d seen you vanish behind.

And so began his journey walking three miles, one heart, endless rejection,  and a muse who never made it easy.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

For weeks, Jungwon walked.

Three miles from his dormitory to your corner of the city, each step a steady rhythm against rain-soaked pavements and autumn leaves that crunched beneath his worn sneakers. The crisp evening air carried the familiar scent of jasmine from your mother’s garden, a fragrance that marked the final stretch of his journey, a pilgrimage guided by longing and stubborn hope.

He knew you would not answer. He knew you would not say yes.

Yet he knocked.

Every time, without fail, you opened the door. Your brow lifted in amused curiosity, and a slow, knowing smile tugged at your lips. You stood there, a picture of untouchable grace framed by the golden glow of the porch light, looking as if you belonged to a world far beyond his reach.

“Still here, Poet?”

“Still here.”

The ritual remained unchanged. He asked if he could walk with you to the market, along the riverside, or anywhere you might let him follow. And, as always, you refused, laughter slipping from your mouth like soft, mocking music, as though he were nothing more than a foolish boy chasing impossible dreams.

“Try again tomorrow, Jungwon. Maybe I’ll say yes when the moon turns green.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

His friends called him mad.

“She’s never going to say yes” Sunghoon sighed, his voice heavy with the kind of exasperated sympathy reserved for fools in love. He slung an arm over Jungwon’s shoulder as they trudged back from your house yet again, the scent of jasmine still lingering faintly on Jungwon’s clothes, as if the very air mocked his persistence.

Jungwon’s gaze remained fixed on the ground ahead, eyes burning with quiet determination as he stepped over fallen leaves and cracked pavement. “Some flowers bloom only in the wild” he muttered, the words low and resolute, as if willing them into a truth he alone believed.

Sunoo, walking just behind them, let out a sharp laugh that bounced between the streetlights. “You’re writing poetry for a wall, my friend” he said, shaking his head, his grin filled with amusement and pity. “She doesn’t even read it. What’s the point?”

Jungwon’s lips curled into a small, stubborn smile. His fingers tightened around the frayed edges of a folded poem resting in his pocket, ink smudged from too many readings, too many dreams scribbled into desperate verses.

“Then I’ll carve it into stone if I must” he whispered, as if confessing a secret only his heart could hear. His voice was soft, but his resolve was unshakable, each word heavy with the weight of devotion that no rejection could crush.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The next day, he walked again.

Three miles stretched out before him, step by aching step, each one an echo of his unshakable devotion. The autumn wind bit at his cheeks and tangled in his dark hair, but he didn’t slow. His feet knew the path as intimately as the lines of his own hands, worn smooth by repetition, driven forward by a longing that lived too deep to name.

In his pocket, a new poem lay folded and creased, the edges softened from the restless grip of his fingers. Ink smudged the corners where he had touched it too many times, tracing words meant for you alone. His heart was a raw, beating thing as he approached your door once more, a fragile offering wrapped in stubborn hope.

When the door opened, it wasn’t the jasmine-scented air or the golden light that stole his breath. It was the sight of you, effortless and unreachable, with eyes that seemed to dance between amusement and something he could never quite catch.

Jungwon drew in a slow breath, his chest tightening as he met your gaze. He spoke before you could beat him to it. “I know you’ll say no.”

You leaned against the frame, crossing your arms as if this were all a game you had already won. “Then why do you keep coming?”

For a moment, silence hung between you, taut and heavy. His eyes held yours without flinching, and in that stillness, the weight of his soul stood bare- raw, unguarded, and fierce with a feeling too vast to contain.

“Because you’re the only answer I want.” His voice was steady, low, and sure, each word cutting like the edge of a blade. “And if I have to write a thousand verses, take a thousand steps just to hear one yes, I will.”

The wind stirred the space between you, cold against his skin, but he felt nothing except the pounding in his chest. His truth had been spoken, a prayer and a promise laid at your feet.

—-----------------------------------------------------

That night, you sat by the window, the dim light of the moon casting long shadows across the room. The stillness of the evening wrapped around you like a quiet secret, and yet, your thoughts raced, unsettled and restless. A strange, unfamiliar warmth had settled in your chest, a warmth that felt like it didn’t belong to you, something uninvited, a quiet stirring that wouldn’t be ignored.

You thought of him. The boy with ink-stained fingers and weary shoes, whose every step seemed to carry the weight of his unspoken feelings. His face, flushed with both embarrassment and determination, came to mind, the way he held himself, always so sure of his purpose, even when you shut the door in his face. You thought of his poems, the ones left unread on your doorstep, crumpled by the cruel wind but still clinging to the faint hope that you might one day read them, might one day understand. You had ignored them, tossed them aside with the same coldness you had shown him, but now, they lingered in your thoughts like the trace of an unanswered question.

His words echoed in your mind, cutting through the silence like a quiet thunder. "Because you're the only answer I want."

You bit your lip, looking out at the darkened streets. The thought of him, the persistence, the belief that something in you was worth the fight, made the warmth inside you grow, unfamiliar but undeniable. What would it feel like to stop turning him away? What would it be like to open the door, to let him in, to finally answer him in a way he hadn’t expected?

For the first time, you wondered if you were the one who had been running all along.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jungwon went away, seeking peace of mind and space for his scholarly pursuits. The quiet of distant places was a balm to his restless soul, a necessary separation from the world he had tried so hard to win. His letters, once frequent, became infrequent, each one carrying the weight of his thoughts, his poetry, and his quiet heartache. In the last one he wrote to you, he poured his heart onto the paper, the words raw and unguarded, as if he knew this would be the last time he would try to reach you this way.

The letter lay unopened for days, then weeks, and finally, months. You never meant to ignore it, but life had a way of slipping by. The rejection had made it easier to push him aside, to lock away the words that might force you to confront something you weren’t ready to face.

But one evening, after so much time had passed, you finally sat down and read it.

"I leave, not because I want to, but because I need to. I need to find my own way, not as the boy who walked miles to see you, but as someone who can stand on his own, who can breathe without the weight of unrequited love on his chest.

I will never regret these steps, these words, or the way I believed in something that, in the end, was only meant for me.

But perhaps, in time, you will come to understand that my poetry was never about you. It was about me. And even if you never say yes, I will still be the poet who writes, who walks, who lives.

I hope one day, when the moon turns green, you will find yourself ready to say what I long to hear. Until then, I’ll be walking my own path, where I can finally stop chasing after something that can never be mine."

You read those words, and for the first time, you understood. The sting of his absence, the weight of what he had carried all along, settled deep in your chest. You had been too afraid to open your heart, to let him in, and now it was too late. The quiet, stubborn boy had walked away, not in defeat, but in hope for something he had never been able to find with you.

But now, with the words in front of you, you wondered if it was truly the end.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Seven years.

Seven whole years had passed, but the weight of those years felt more like a single breath than the stretch of time they represented. Jungwon had left, chasing peace, running from the ache that had clung to him for too long. In his absence, life had moved on, his friends had changed, she had changed- but he remained tethered to a past that refused to loosen its grip.

When Sunghoon had called for a reunion, Jungwon had agreed without much thought. It wasn’t so much about reconnecting with old friends as it was a quiet test for himself. How much had changed? Had those seven years reshaped him, or had they only deepened the parts of him he’d tried to forget? He hadn’t expected her to be there, not really. But when the door opened and he saw her standing in the room, everything stopped.

It was her- the same face, but sharper, a little more guarded, like she had learned how to protect herself from whatever weight the world had put on her. The smile she gave him was thin, more of a polite gesture than anything else, and it didn’t reach her eyes. For a moment, he was paralyzed by the recognition of everything he had left behind, everything he had lost.

"Jungwon" she said, her voice tentative, as though unsure whether they were still familiar to each other.

He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to have words for this moment, but all that came out was a soft, “Hey”

Her gaze flickered over him, and he felt the tension coil between them. There were no pleasantries, no casual laughter. Only silence that seemed too loud for everything they had once shared.

"I didn’t expect you to be here" she said, and there was something fragile in her tone, something he hadn’t expected.

Jungwon managed a wry smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his heart. “I could say the same thing.”

The air thickened between them. The years felt impossibly long, but somehow, the moment felt like they were standing in the same place they had been seven years ago. The gap between them wasn’t just time; it was everything they hadn’t said, everything that had been left undone.

“You’ve changed” she said, her voice careful, almost as if she were trying to figure out if he was still the person she remembered.

Jungwon looked at her and shrugged, the faintest surprise pulling at his features. “Yeah, I guess I have. But I think you’ve changed too.”

There was a pause, a beat where neither of them knew what to say, but both of them felt the weight of everything that hadn’t been spoken over the years. Jungwon had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, running through apologies and explanations, but now that he stood before her, those words felt foreign, as if they had been left behind in the past where they belonged.

“I never meant to hurt you-” he blurted out, the words slipping from him before he could stop them. “I thought... leaving would be the only way to find peace, but it wasn’t. It didn’t fix anything.”

Her gaze softened for a moment, and for the briefest instant, it felt like she was seeing him again, like the years hadn’t erased everything they once had. Jungwon’s heart twisted. Maybe it was too late, maybe the distance was too wide to cross, but he couldn’t help the flicker of hope that burned quietly in his chest.

“Maybe we’ve been walking in circles all this time” he muttered, almost to himself. “Maybe this is where we’re supposed to be.”

She didn’t answer immediately. She just stood there, looking at him like she was weighing the possibility of what he had said. Her lips quirked, the faintest smile touching the corners of her mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a smile full of questions, of hesitation, as if she wasn’t sure if they could move forward, or if they even should.

“Maybe” she whispered, barely audible. The word lingered between them, suspended in the air like a promise that could either be broken or fulfilled.

Jungwon stood there, a quiet storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t tell if it was a sign of hope or just the end of something that had never really started. But as they stood there, inches apart and yet a lifetime away, there was something in the silence, something fragile but undeniably real that told him maybe, just maybe, this was worth fighting for.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The soft murmur of the café wrapped around them like a blanket, a comfortable hum that masked the quiet tension between them. The table was small, just a few inches separating them, but it felt like a world apart, the kind of distance that could either keep them apart forever or draw them closer. Neither of them could tell which.

She stirred her coffee, her fingers delicate around the spoon, her movements slow as if she was trying to draw out the moment. Jungwon watched her, his eyes tracing the curve of her fingers, the way she absentmindedly traced the rim of her cup. It felt so familiar, so heartbreakingly normal. Yet, everything about this moment was different, charged with something neither of them was willing to name.

"So, you still write?" she asked, her voice quiet, but there was a softness in it that hadn’t been there the last time they spoke, a gentleness that made his heart skip, just a little.

Jungwon nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. "I do. Sometimes. Though, I think my poems are a little less hopeful than they used to be."

She met his eyes then, her gaze steady but searching. "What do they say now?"

"Mostly about missing things I didn’t even know I wanted," he said with a half-laugh, the words escaping before he could stop them. His fingers tightened around his cup, the weight of the admission heavier than he expected.

Her lips parted, and for a moment, he thought she might say something, maybe something sharp or maybe something sweet. Instead, she simply nodded, her gaze flickering away to something outside the window. "I guess we’re all writing those kinds of poems now" she murmured.

Jungwon’s heart ached, but he couldn’t look away. "I never stopped thinking about you" he said, the words slipping out before he had a chance to think about them.

Her eyes snapped back to him, wide and unreadable, but there was something softer in them, something more open than before. The way she held his gaze, the way she didn’t look away felt like everything had led to this one moment, the space between them shifting, the distance slowly closing.

"I thought you were gone for good" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought maybe I was better off without you."

Jungwon’s chest tightened at the honesty in her words. He leaned in slightly, his hands clasped on the table, feeling the heat of her presence like it was burning through him. "I thought the same. But I guess some things are harder to forget than others."

There was a long silence after that, a silence that felt thick with everything they had left unsaid, everything they hadn’t been able to say in all the years that had passed. She looked down at her cup, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and for a moment, Jungwon wondered if it was because she was remembering something, too.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was light, but there was a certain warmth to it that made his heart beat faster. "You know, you always did have a way with words."

He smirked, the familiar teasing glint in his eyes. "I think you liked it better when I was just a poet."

Her gaze softened, and she let out a soft laugh, the kind of laugh that only came from long, shared memories. "Maybe... But now? I think I like it better when you’re just here."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the words hanging between them like the unfinished lines of a poem, both beautiful and unresolved. Jungwon couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way, like something was on the edge of being real, but still so fragile that it could slip away at any moment.

When she stood up to leave, Jungwon didn’t move, not right away. There was something in the way she smiled at him that made his chest tighten. She seemed like she might say something more, but instead, she simply glanced at him with that same half-smile he remembered so well.

"I’ll see you again, right?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.

He nodded, his heart in his throat, and smiled. "Yeah, I think you will."

She turned to walk away, her footsteps soft against the floor, and for a moment, Jungwon didn’t move, his gaze lingering on her retreating figure. He could feel the pull between them, the gravity of everything they had yet to say. But as he stood and made his way to the door, he knew one thing for certain:

Maybe they weren’t together yet, maybe they weren’t even sure what they were. But somewhere in that café, in that unspoken moment, there was something real between them, something neither of them was ready to walk away from.

And for the first time in years, Jungwon allowed himself to believe that they were walking toward something worth waiting for.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.

"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.

Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."

Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.

While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."

"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."

Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."

His eyes lit up. "Please." 

He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.

"Nat, you're a lifesaver."

"Just save me some of the leftovers."

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

Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.

She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.

"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink. 

"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed. 

Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."

"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"

"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."

Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."

"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."

Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."

"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."

She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.

"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment. 

Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."

"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."

She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.

Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.

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

Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.

"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"

He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.

And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much. 

He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.

Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.

"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."

She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"

He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."

There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"

Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."

Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."

His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."

Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"

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

The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."

Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.

The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.

"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.

Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."

Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."

As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.

"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."

Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.

"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."

Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."

"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."

Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you." 

As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."

"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner. 

"And I can just as easily drive you."

He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."

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

"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.

"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.

"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."

"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.

Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.

She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"

"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."

She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"

Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."

She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"

"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"

She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"

He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."

Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.

He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.

She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."

He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."

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

"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.

She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.

As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over. 

She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed. 

"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.

She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.

Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?

He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.

Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.

The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.

Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?

"Oh, Anna. Don't."

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

Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.

He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.

"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."

Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.

"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."

Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."

"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."

Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."

"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."

She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"

"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."

Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."

"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."

Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"

"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.

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

Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...." 

Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.

"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her. 

"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in. 

"Are you okay?"

"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.

"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.

They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.

"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place. 

"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."

She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.

"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.

"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."

She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.

"It looks good."

She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"

He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"

"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."

He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"

"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly. 

"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."

She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."

Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."

She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."

He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"

"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

"Uh. I did. Yeah."

Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."

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

BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[0omillo0]

KIM SEUNGMIN X FEM! READER 𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n: pure fluff <33

syn: you and seungmin have been seeing eachother for some months. you were friends, yes, but you had feelings for him. ofc he didn’t like you back, did he..?

ᡣ𐭩

You had always wondered what it would feel like to be in love with someone who didn’t love you back. The kind of ache people wrote about in songs, or spilled into poems. You never thought it would feel quite like this, though—a slow burn in your chest that grew heavier every time Seungmin crossed your mind.

And Seungmin was always on your mind.

Your crush on him had been obvious for months, and although he was sweet, charming, and funny, he never made it clear if he felt the same way. You’d catch him staring at you sometimes, but he’d always look away, expression unreadable. You tried dropping hints, but Seungmin was impossible to figure out. After a while, you convinced yourself that he just didn’t like you the way you liked him. If he did, he would’ve said something by now, right?

Which is why you were sitting in a cafe right now with Jisoo. He was nice. Easy-going, and he’d made it clear early on that he liked you. So you thought, maybe if you gave someone else a chance, you could get over Seungmin. Maybe Jisoo could be the person to help you move on.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you glanced down, unlocking it to see the message.

Seungmin:

Where are you?

read 18:40

You bit your lip, glancing up at Jisoo, who was rambling on about his plans for the weekend. He didn’t seem to notice that you were distracted.

You:

Out with a friend. Why?

read 18:42

There was a long pause. You could see the three dots blinking at the bottom of the screen, then disappearing, and then blinking again. Finally, his reply came.

Seungmin:

Never mind.

read 18:51

You frowned at the message. What was that about? For some reason, your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shoved your phone back into your bag, determined to focus on Jisoo. This was good. It was a step in the right direction.

But that lingering feeling in your chest didn’t go away.

The next few days were strange.

Seungmin was everywhere, as usual—at mutual gatherings, in your group chat, sending memes to everyone except you. But there was something off. He wasn’t talking to you like he normally did, barely even acknowledging your existence. Every time you entered the room, he found an excuse to leave. When you tried to talk to him, he’d give one-word answers or act like he hadn’t heard you.

It stung.

By the third day, you were sure something was seriously wrong. Seungmin never ignored you like this before. Had you done something wrong? Said something that pissed him off?

Your phone buzzed again. It was a message from Jisoo, asking you to hang out tomorrow. You sighed, scrolling through your chat history with Seungmin, hoping to find a clue as to why he was acting this way.

But there was nothing.

Frustrated, you typed out a message to him, your fingers trembling slightly.

You:

Hey. Are you mad at me or something? You’ve been ignoring me for days. Did I do something?

seen 10:37

You stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear. Nothing. Seungmin had seen your message, but there was no response.

Your heart sank. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care, but the truth was, you did. More than you wanted to admit.

That night, it rained. Hard.

You sat in your living room, the sound of raindrops pelting against the window almost soothing. The TV was on, but you weren’t paying attention, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Seungmin.

Your phone vibrated on the couch beside you, and for a moment, you thought it was Jisoo. But when you glanced at the screen, your heart stopped.

Seungmin:

We need to talk. Now.

seen 21:50

You blinked at the message, not sure how to respond.

You:

Okay? About what?

seen 21:51

This time, the response was immediate.

Seungmin:

About you. And Jisoo.

seen 21:51

Your chest tightened. Why would Seungmin care about that? Did he…? No. He couldn’t possibly—

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Startled, you jumped up from the couch, heart racing. You weren’t expecting anyone.

But when you opened the door, there he was—Seungmin, soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from the edges of his jacket.

“Seungmin?” you gasped, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? You’re soaking wet!”

He ignored your concern, stepping inside without invitation. His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he was looking right at you, as if he’d been holding something in for too long and couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice tight with frustration.

You blinked, confused. “Tell you what?”

“About Jisoo,” he spat out, like the name itself was poison on his tongue.

You stared at him, speechless. “What… What does Jisoo have to do with anything?”

Seungmin’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his wet hair, his chest heaving. “Everything! How long have you been seeing him?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He knew? How did he even—?

“That’s none of your business, Seungmin!” you shot back, feeling a surge of anger. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” Seungmin laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just bitterness. “Because you’re seeing someone else. Because I thought you were—fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. But I didn’t think you’d just go off and start dating someone else.”

“You never said anything!” you shouted, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You never showed any sign that you liked me, Seungmin. I’ve been waiting for months, hoping you’d do something, but you didn’t! So I moved on.”

Seungmin stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The rain was still pouring outside, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the storm inside your apartment was far worse.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Seungmin whispered, taking a step closer to you. “I liked you, Y/N. I liked you so much that it scared the shit out of me. But I didn’t want to ruin anything between us, so I held back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He… liked you? This whole time?

“I thought you didn’t like me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You never showed it.”

“I thought I had time,” Seungmin admitted, his voice low. “I thought if I waited long enough, I’d figure out how to tell you. But when I found out about Jisoo… I realized I didn’t have time. You’re slipping away from me.”

You stood frozen, your heart racing as the weight of his words settled in. You weren’t sure how to process any of this.

“I was trying to get over you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to be any louder.

Seungmin took another step forward, so close now that you could see the raindrops clinging to his lashes. “And now?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “Now… I don’t know.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, and his hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

“Tell me to leave, and I will,” Seungmin murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Tell me to walk away, and I won’t bother you again.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

That was all Seungmin needed.

He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an urgency that took your breath away. His hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers clutching the fabric of his wet jacket.

The kiss was desperate, like he was making up for all the time he’d lost. And in that moment, everything else faded away—the rain, Jisoo, the doubts that had plagued you for so long. It was just you and Seungmin, tangled up in each other, finally giving in to what had been building between you for months.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Seungmin rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “Yeah. You have.”

Seungmin pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. “So… where do we go from here?”

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. “We figure it out. Together.”

Seungmin grinned, his dimples making your heart do a somersault. “Together, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

[stevesgother]

Savior Complex - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.9k

Warnings - Blood. Mention of vomit. Partial nudity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Authors note - This is my first fic...ever. Constructive criticism always welcome but pls be nice. Takes place directly after the events of S3. Hurt/comfort, angst, acknowledging Steve’s trauma bc damn.

Summary: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending but not a lot of resolution, friends to ? lovers? idk its up to you!

Inspired by my favorite poem of all time, that has always reminded me a little bit of Steve.

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch”

The air inside Steve’s car was heavy with tension and the thick July heat.

You sat parked in his driveway, the rest of The Party having dispersed to their own homes; their parents waiting for them with open arms and misty eyes. 

Not you. 

And Certainly not Steve Harrington.

You and Steve weren’t what you would call “close”. Until now, that is. Shared trauma tends to have that effect. He knew you had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, and it didn’t take much deducing to realize his parents weren’t in the picture. Barely in Indiana, let alone spending anything close to quality time with their only son.

The idea of spending the last few hours of this nightmarishly long day in his big, empty house was sounding lovelier by the minute. On the grounds that it ‘wasn’t safe to be alone right now’. You didn’t read too much into it; he was right, after all. Part of you wonders if he just didn’t want to be alone. Sluggish, and noticeably more bloodied than you, Steve made his way to the front door with you in tow. His house was silent; eerily so. Everything pristine and well manicured, as if no one lived there at all. 

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs, and a bathroom down the hall, to the right. Towels in the cabinet next to the shower.” He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. You try not to feel like you’re burdening him, blaming his avoidance on the exhaustion and not the unwelcome presence of you in his home.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He finally meets your gaze. The shiner he sports on his left eye is still swollen, but less so. The front of his sailor suit you once thought so endearing, is now stained with blood and vomit.

“You’re bleeding.” You say quietly. “You have -” you wince, “- open wounds on your face Steve. Probably a concussion too and that’s if we’re being modest.”

He wears a tight-lipped expression you can’t quite read. You can tell he’s frustrated, and his exhaustion is bone deep. It nags at your heart. Maybe that’s why you don’t just drop it when he answers you.

“Not my first rodeo, I’ll be fine just-” He pauses, “go shower, and get some rest. God knows this shit won’t just be over come tomorrow.”

You take a tentative step forward. “Please just…just let me help. I can disinfect the cuts around your eye. I was a girl scout! Though in hindsight I realize how useless that sounds and-” you’re rambling now; nervous.

“Stop.” You’re taken aback slightly by his tone, you haven’t known Steve to act hostile. Not in a long time. “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not ‘pity’ Steve! Why is it so hard for you to believe someone might want to help you?” You take a step forward from where you stand a few feet from him. You reach up to touch his forehead with the hope of better assessing his injuries.

‘Enough!” He swats your hand away, “God, I should’ve never offered for you to stay here. You think you’re some type of savior, but you’re not.”

His words feel like a knife to the chest. You knew what he was trying to do, you knew he didn’t really mean the things he said. Not when he’s like this. For the first time since you arrived tonight, you thought of how many times he’s had to come back to this empty, soulless house all alone. Damaged, emotionally and physically. Wounds he’s had to patch alone. No gentle caress of another’s hands. Just the stinging of antiseptic in his nostrils, and the heaviness of everyone he’s ever loved abandoning him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, shaking your head in a disbelieving way.

He laughs, humorless, “Yes I do. I really, really do.” A bitter sharpness to his words. It burns like liquor washing down your throat. “Go.” 

“No!” Now you’re the one raising your voice. “Being stubborn is for when someone is haggling you at a flea market. Not when someone is trying to love you.”

Love. You realize what you’ve said a beat too late, but you stand defiant despite it. You do love Steve. This fact, collecting cobwebs in the back of your brain for months, being spat out onto the floor in front of you both is what compels you to what you do next.

Steve, who was previously standing with this index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, is now staring at you like a deer in headlights. Before either of you can blink, you’re closing the gap between the two of you, sure of yourself. You wrap him in a suffocating embrace and he struggles against your grip.

“Stop! Please I don’t need you-” He all but shouts. Still, you sense a dent in the armor.  A crack in the wall he’s spent so long building to keep you out; to keep everyone out.

Eventually, he stops struggling. His knees give out from underneath him as the trauma and the pain and the events of today catch up to him. But not just today; a year ago when his girlfriend broke his heart at Tina’s stupid party. When Michael Harrington cut him off on the grounds of him being a disgrace to the family name. Everything flooding back to him all at once. Everything he’s spent his youth avoiding.

You sink to the ground with him, still holding him tight. He stops making an effort to hide his sobs, but instead clings to you like you’re the only tangible thing keeping him here. You sit beside him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulders and your free hand cradling his head to his chest so he can hear your heartbeat. A heart that finally beats for him.

“I know.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The hair you’re gently stroking, which is usually so voluminous and perfectly styled, is now dampened with blood and sweat.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, “I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m not sorry.” 

He cries harder at that. Shoulders shaking and breath shallow, he looks at you. You cradle his sweet, bruised face in your hands. You think, like a pomegranate, Steve Harrington is beautiful, and worth the mess. Wiping his tears with your thumbs and careful to avoid the cuts and swelling that decorate his face, you give him a smile. Shy, but earnest.

“Can you take me to bed?” He asks you, eyes bleary.

–

Neither of you speak as you turn on the faucet and watch the porcelain tub fill with scalding hot water; still not hot enough to wash away the memories this day has tainted you both with forever. Tentatively, you lift your shirt over your head, and slip your shorts down your scraped legs, revealing your mismatched bra and underwear. A pang of guilt washes over you when you look down and realize Steve took the brunt of the Russian soldiers. He was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met.

You give him a look that asks “is this okay?” as your fingertips brush the cotton of his ruined Scoops uniform. You aren’t sure what the boundaries are anymore. Momentarily Steve worries this will irreparably change things between you two. He nods anyway. You lift the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse at the real extent of his injuries. His ribs were badly bruised, and he had clotting cuts all over his abdomen. Something swirls in your stomach at the sight of his chest hair. You wish the circumstances of this moment were different.

He pulls his own pants and socks down with a hiss, eyes screwed shut, leaving you both in just your undergarments. He steps into the tub and slowly sinks beneath the hot water. You step in behind him, and he looks over his shoulder at you, a look of confusion contorting his features. You don’t bother to explain, for the fear that speaking would break the trance you both seemingly were under. You had built a space here for each other, one you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Sitting behind him now, you wrap your arms around his chest and pull him flush to you. You rest your chin in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and close your eyes. You can feel how he tries to match his breathing to yours; slow and rhythmic.

You reach up to the hanging shelf on the wall above your head, and grab the cedar and sandalwood body wash. The second you open the bottle, your senses are flooded with him. Only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever get to smell his scent in any way other than passing. A slight brush of shoulders in the hallway; a friendly hug when you’d gotten back from a month long vacation.

With a dollop of body wash on a washcloth you found on the edge of the tub, you gently start to scrub the blood and grime off his freckled skin. Like this, you can see every birthmark, every scar, the way the hair at the nape of his neck curls up around his ears in the damp bathroom air.

Steve rests his calloused hand on your knee and squeezes. A silent reassurance that what you’re doing is okay, that he’s okay, that he’s here. Everything feels overwhelmingly intimate as your hands explore his body. You lather his thick, brown locks with the shampoo you found next to the soap. With a heavy sigh, Steve allows his head to fall back into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t tell you, but this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in the tub together, but at some point he turns to face you, cupping your jaw in his larger hand. The look he gives you is so tender, you think you might cry. His caramel eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes, so fast you would’ve missed it if your senses weren’t dialed up to 11.

With the delicacy of someone touching a flower petal, he closes the gap and presses his cut lips to your soft ones. Hesitant at first, giving you the option to pull away. He fears he may have misread the moment when you separate from him, a look in your eyes that he can’t read. His worry dissipates as you take his face into both of your hands and kiss him deep and slow. You only break when the air feels too stiff to continue, the water droplets accumulating in the air and Steve's kiss making it difficult to catch your breath. His hands slide from where they were grasping your hair, and down to your neck where they stay.

“I love you, too.”

[ablobwhowrites]

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Also, I wanna say that I love your detective m/n so bad. Like omg, do you have anything more of him?

Im glad you like him, he's a silly little guy I like making stuff for.

I have to much to say for detective y/n (I don't know if I should use y/n or m/n for the male y/n's I have) but their a lot about detective y/n that I may use in a fic but I don't know but he does go on undercover jobs for secret missions but once he had to go undercover at a gala once and was confused on why Bruce Wayne was there as it wasn't really a gala he would go for and he ended up getting in the way of y/n's mission and let's say y/n doesn't like Bruce for a while as the guy who y/n needed to track down was able to escape for a bit. Plus detective y/n drinks some champagne but doesn't really like the taste of it but still drinks it at galas if he can cause.

But some angst on him is that he had a lover a long time ago but when y/n was to propose to them, they were killed so detective y/n is scared to love someone as even though they loved them. He knows he should move on but he is scared that the hole in his heart would be torn more as he wants to feel love again but is just scared that he isn't ready for that rollercoaster again. But he also feeds stray cats outside of his work and got a stray cat who lives at the station named bandit (Gordon let's y/n keep bandit around also the station really likes bandit) plus y/n also keeps the ring he wanted to propose with, in his pocket and sometimes fiddles with it thinking of what he could have done to prevent that day even if the whole situation was out of his control.

As I said in another post about detective y/n, he does have a lot of scars on his body but none on his face or neck as most of them are on his arms and back due his job back at the city he use to work at and still now in Gotham causes him to get some scars but he doesn't tell anyone because he doesn't like people worrying about him. He also has a interest in making poems sometimes as he made a lot about his ex lover. Many of them now sealed away in his desk drawer in his office as he sometimes reads them seeing the small doodles his lover made on the paper he poured his heart out in for them. Tracing his thumb over the small hearts near the parts that his lover liked (which was all of it) and sometimes they would make one for him and he will forever keep them with him but looking at them has him imagine 'if they were still here. Would we have lived our dream life together like we promised?'

He is sometimes scared by the bat family. He is friends with Tim, Jason and dick but is still scared of Damian sometimes cause like he doesn't want his arm to be dislocated again by the little kid with the strength of Hercules. He does like Alfred as he reminds him of his uncle Gordon when he tried to be serious. Plus as I said detective y/n sometimes has to get rides from the heros because sometimes his car is damaged by the fights heros get with villains so y/n has had awkward silent car rides with Batman as y/n is scared to ask anything to Batman as Batman isn't a big conversationalist is what y/n heard.

(anyways guys hope you liked this yap session. Happy late Christmas or happy holidays. Please drink water and stay healthy and if you guys like this you can request more but that's all.)

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLVI)

Chapter 46 : ‘Both of us, of the love which makes us one.’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! A little academic update for our lovely couple…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3479

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

I loved you first: but afterwards your love Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove. Which owes the other most? my love was long, And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong; I loved and guessed at you, you construed me And loved me for what might or might not be – Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong. For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’ With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done, For one is both and both are one in love: Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’ Both have the strength and both the length thereof, Both of us, of the love which makes us one.

Christina Rossetti

The whatsapp group of the third-year students was busier than ever.

Texts after texts after texts were filling up the app, the screen constantly updated, a message chasing another.

The reason was simple. Professor Hozier-Byrne and Professor Y/L/N had been spotted chatting in a corridor… and they were standing very close to each other…

Were they touching?!?!

Nah… but they were leaning towards each other, it was adorable.

And Prof H-B was blushing. BLUSHING! And they were laughing like… I had never seen any of them so happy.

They’re definitely together. THE LOOK IN THEIR EYES LADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A string of heart-eyes emojis followed.

I’m betting on them.

So… does that mean that our two fav literature professors are also IN LOVE?! My heart!!

Oh

My

God…

Do you think Pr. H-B’s poetry is about… HER?!

OMG!!!

A string of messages taking God as a witness of the student’s amazement followed.

We need to find out. We need to be certain!

And that was how Operation Love Birds began…

“Do you have any questions about this poem?” Andrew asked his students, readjusting his glasses, closing his copy of District and Circle.

Silence, but his students were clearly listening carefully to him, as several of them shook their heads.

“Alright, then… I reckon that’s all for today. Don’t forget that you have an essay to prepare for next week! Enjoy your weekend!”

He was already packing his things, thinking about you and the coffee break you had promised after this class. He knew you were wearing this shirt he loved on you, that green one that made his heart stumble and lose all kind of rhythm. He had seen you leaving your shared home wearing it, but you had a class early in the morning, while he could take his time. He remembered the way it revealed just enough of your cleavage to drive him nuts, though…

He was almost startled by the four students standing in front of him. Marie, Sheily, Saoirse and Sean. He knew them quite well by now, and so did you. They had steadily attended his and your classes every semester since their first year.

He quickly recovered and offered them a kind and expectant smile.

“We wanted to ask you about the essay for next week. We haven’t found many sources about the poem we’re studying, and we’re not quite sure about our interpretation… could you tell us if we’re going in the wrong direction?”

His smile only grew a little wider, and he wondered why one of the girls was repeatedly blinking when he pushed his hair behind his ear.

“Yes, of course. I know that some authors we’re working on in this class, being contemporary to us, don’t have that many academic resources about their work. I’ll give you a push, if you need.”

He tapped on the screen of his phone to check the time.

“I have to run now, but come by tomorrow afternoon to my office if you’d like. We’ll take a look at what you’ve been doing, and I’ll give you directions to finish your essay.”

“Thank you! Have a nice day, professor!”

“Thanks, have a good one too.”

Andrew let out a relieved exhale as the students left, and hurried to pack once more. His phone vibrated with your name colouring his screen.

Got your coffee, waiting in our office.

Hurry up. I want a kiiiiiiissssss!

Love you! xx

Andrew grinned without even noticing, throwing his pencil case in his bag and running to the door. The few students who were still in the room looked at him with raised eyebrows, and exchanged questioning glances at the sight of his sudden hurry. He who was always so calm, so composed, almost shy…

Andrew ignored them, though. He didn’t even notice that they were there at all. Instead, he rushed through the corridors of the old university, until he had reached your shared office.

He opened the door more violently than he meant to, making you jump. You were standing there, by the window behind his desk, a coffee in your hand. You were wearing that top, alright…

He hurried to close the door, rushed across the room, bending to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling, and dropped his bag next to his desk.

“Your coffee’s…” you started, pointing at the warm mug on his desk, but you stopped when he took your warm beverage from your hands to put it down on a nearby shelf. “Huh… that was mine!”

Instead of answering, Andrew merely stared at you, letting his gaze rake the length of your body, and he didn’t try to hide the hunger in his eyes.

“You’re wearing that top.”

You raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

“Yes…”

“You know I love that shirt on you.”

“Hmmm… yes, I kind of do. That’s why I chose it this morning.”

“Oh, I see… you woke up and thought ‘hey, how can I torture my boyfriend today?’…”

“Torture?”

“You clearly chose violence with that cleavage, honey…”

You bit on your lower lip, unable to refrain your grin any longer.

“Did I now? And I thought I would make you happy…”

“Oh, I’m delighted, don’t get me wrong.”

You wanted to add some banter, but his hands came up to rest on your cheeks, cradling your face to pull you closer while he bent down to kiss you, and you were left too breathless to speak.

“You’re so beautiful, my love. Absolutely gorgeous…” he whispered, his lips a breath away from yours, and despite the obvious desire in his words, his tone was infinitely tender. Adoring, even. “How did I get lucky enough for you to want me, huh?”

You giggled at that, the most adorable sound in the world, and he didn’t even notice that he was smiling.

“You planned a devilish plan to get back with your ex with me.”

“Our exes,” he corrected you.

“Hmm… yeah, that’s how.”

He shook his head, brushing his nose against yours in the process.

“I don’t think that’s how I did it…”

“No… You just had to be your kind, funny, handsome self…”

He rolled his eyes, and when you opened your mouth to protest, he merely closed the gap between your mouths, finally kissing you.

He was breathless by the time you pulled away, dizzy and happier than ever…

… how could you still make him feel this way after two full years?

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close, and he held your waist firmly against him, partly to keep you close but also to help you keep your balance as you had risen to your tiptoes so he wouldn’t have to bend so much.

“Well, professor… if you’re nice enough with me today… I might let you take this shirt you like so much off me tonight…” you whispered in the most tempting voice, making him groan.

“You’ll be the death of me…”

While Andrew and you were finally breaking your embrace, sipping on your coffees while imagining very graphic scenarios of how you would spend your evening together, the whatsapp group of your students, now rebranded as OP Love Birds was on fire again.

I couldn’t make out the face of the woman on the picture, but she had the same hair colour as Pr Y/L/N. And there was a dog in the picture too. Black and white dog. (it was adorable btw).

Okay, so H-B is definitely NOT single. And it could be Y/L/N.

And can we mention how he weirdly just… BOLTED out of the room?

Like?

Sir?

Calm down! Those legs are long enough to carry you at lightspeed already…

Unless he wanted to go back to Y/N!

OMG… I want them to be together so bad, they would be so cute together!!!

God, you had to talk to Andrew.

You finally had received a response for the publication of your article. The email dropped during your class, but you managed to sneak a peek at it, and… the article was accepted!

You were over the moon, and got distracted during the end of your class, you would willingly admit that. You stammered, stumbled over your words a few times, but it was okay. You didn’t mind. You couldn’t mind losing your cool when you had spent so long working on this bloody article. But it was finally accepted, it would be published, with your name on it, printed in full and you wanted to cry from the sheer expectation of finally seeing it for real, on a computer screen, with the name of one of the most renowned journals at the top of your paper.

You hurried through the corridor, knowing Andrew was coming back from a class too, and would soon have a meeting with some of his students about an essay. There was no time to lose. You wanted to celebrate with him, and get lots of hugs and kisses and see his proud grin on his face…

He heard you running down the corridor when he was just a few steps away from the door of your shared office, and he raised a perplexed eyebrow as you rushed closer.

“You’re alright?” he asked, turning fully to you.

“IT’S ACCEPTED! IT’S ACCEPTED!”

His surprise turned into bliss.

“Your article, you mean?” he asked, and you nodded excitedly, rushing in his open arms.

You buried your face in his chest, and jumped up and down in excitement. Andrew laughed.

“Congratulations, darling! You worked so hard on it!”

“Yes, I did!” you quipped, looking up at him.

“I’m so proud of you, that’s amazing!”

“YES!”

He checked the corridor, but there was no one in sight, so he bent down to kiss you, loving and passionate and taking your breath away.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” he cooed, holding you tight again. “That’s amazing, congratulations!”

“I mean, it’s not my first paper… but it’s my first on this subject, and in such a big journal too…”

“Babe, I’m incredibly proud of you! And you should be too! Now, we can drink that bottle of champagne I had stashed for this.”

“You bought champagne for this?”

“Of course! You were so nervous about it… I know how important it was for you.”

“Thank you,” you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, and Andrew fondly shook his head at you.

“It’s the bare minimum, honey.”

“It isn’t. You’re the best boyfriend since Mr. Darcy.”

Andrew let out a loud laugh.

“Wow… that is very high praise!”

“The highest.”

You finally pulled away, but kept on holding his hands in yours.

You jumped at the sound of giggles coming from the staircase that led to the corridor, and you both let go, reluctance making your movements too slow for Andrew’s students not to notice…

“Ha! Come in, let’s take a look at what you’ve found so far,” Andrew called his students, and you greeted them as well.

It took them thirty seconds after they were out of your office to text the group.

THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!!!

THEY WERE HOLDING HANDS IN THE HALLWAY WHEN WE ARRIVED TO THEIR OFFICE!

WHAT?!

OMG!!!

We need more proof! It is pretty compelling, but were they really holding hands?

They were letting go when we arrived.

God, I’m certain they’re together. ADORABLE!

We need more proof, just to be sure…

There was something off with your students, of that you were certain.

Nothing bad, by any means. They were all pretty fun to be around, focused on their studies too. You couldn’t complain about that class, really.

Except that they had started being a little weird for the past few weeks. They were whispering when they saw you, especially if Andrew was with you. You noticed that they tried to drag the informal conversations you had with them towards your personal life. But your doubts turned into certainty as you overheard a conversation between three of your students.

“They have to be together. Saoirse said they saw them holding hands.”

“They weren’t holding hands, they looked like they had been holding hands.”

“I’m sure Y/L/N and H-B are together.”

H-B?

Your brain finally clicked… Hozier-Byrne. Right…

“We need more proof.”

“More proof than the way H-B looks at her? Gosh… he’s head-over-heels… I wish someone could look at me like that.”

“He already looked at her like that when we were in first year, Sheily. And they weren’t together for sure at the time.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The longing?! Now it’s more, ‘happily with the love of my life’ vibes. He looked sad every time she turned away back then.”

You decided that you had eavesdropped long enough and made sure to make a bit of noise before finally walking out of the classroom and into the corridor where your students were chatting. They fell silent as they saw you, but greeted you with a warm smile and polite hello.

You were to meet with Andrew at the library on the campus, both of you needing to pick up some books there. There was a sort of cafeteria nearby, where you wanted to pick up a snack and some coffee.

And Andrew was waiting for you, indeed, leaning against the stone wall of the library, with a hand in the pocket of his blue jeans, too busy looking at his phone to notice the way the students that passed by him were staring. It made you smile, the way he was truly clueless of how good he looked like this, with his hair let loose to reach his shoulders, white shirt, blue jeans and denim jacket, looking effortlessly handsome. Your heart skipped several beats at the sight. He must have felt you staring, because he finally looked up from his phone, readjusting his glasses, and immediately grinned as his gaze met yours.

“Hey! How was your class this morning?” he asked, and you saw the way he closed and opened his fist, longing to touch you but refraining as you were in public, and working.

“Nothing worth mentioning except… something I’ve overhead. Got tea to spill.”

He laughed, bright and loud as he opened the door of the library for you.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all about it over coffee.”

“See! I knew you loved gossips as much as I do.”

“Hardly.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Absolutely not.”

You playfully stick out your tongue, making him giggle.

“Well, you’ll be definitely interested in that one, because it concerns us.”

“Us?”

“Yep…”

“Why would it be about us?”

“I’ll tell you later,” you teased, walking further into the library to pick up the books you needed, throwing a teasing smile over your shoulder, and if he replied by a roll of his eyes, he was blushing too.

You met up again to borrow the books, and Andrew read the summary of the two books you were taking with you as you exchanged niceties with the librarian. He kept carrying your books as you walked out of the building and towards the cafeteria.

It was almost an accident as you spotted the three students you had overheard earlier that morning. You were walking and chatting with Andrew, who was asking questions about the books you had just borrowed, when you felt someone staring. And indeed, the trio was looking at you and Andrew, whispering before deciding to follow you towards the cafeteria.

“So, that’s the analysis you were talking about yesterday, that pushed forward the historical and social dimension in the plays?” he asked, a small frown creasing his brow, showing that he was thinking and that he was fully focused on your conversation. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.

“Hmm. Yeah, that’s it.”

“Sounds interesting. A little… narrowing, but interesting.”

“The second one is linked to Bakhtine’s theories though.”

“Hmm… yeah, I see. So, you’re…”

“Andy.”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry, I know I’m interrupting, but… see the three students behind us?”

“The ones we’re both teaching you mean?” he asked, trying to discreetly look over his shoulder.

“Yeah… they’re the ones I overheard this morning.”

“Oh… and? What did they say?”

You opened the door of the cafeteria, and joined the queue.

“They were discussing whether or not we are a couple,” you said in a whisper so he would be the only one to hear, and Andrew had to bend closer during the rest of the conversation.

“What?”

“They were arguing on whether or not we are a couple.”

He blinked, taking a couple of seconds to process your words.

“Oh… I see… I guess we weren’t as discreet as we thought we were.”

“I guess not. They mentioned how you look at me a lot.”

His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, but his gaze didn’t waver, remained fixed on you.

“Oh… I see.”

“Lovingly, apparently. You are ‘head-over-heels’ as they put it,” you teased, making him chuckle and blush even more.

“I can’t deny that,” he answered in a smooth tone that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “It is hard to hide my thoughts when I look at you.”

“Hmm… I knew you adored me.”

He laughed.

“More than you could ever imagine,” he answered with a tender smile, while you took a step closer to the counter. “Although, not just that. I often imagine you in… interesting positions as well.”

You choked on your own breath at that, and Andrew sported a content smirk in return.

“Right… anyway. Apparently, we’ve blown our cover. Our students are catching up on us.”

“And what do you suggest we do then? I mean… we’re not breaking any rules, or doing anything wrong.”

“What are you saying?”

“That… maybe that’s okay if they know about us. I for one… wouldn’t mind that much.”

You couldn’t refrain your smile.

“At the beginning, you were adamant that we had to remain professional at Trinity.”

“Hmm… I mean, it was the beginning. I couldn’t be sure if it would work out between us. It was safer this way. Two teachers dating is gossip enough, without adding a break-up into the mix.”

“Hmm… but now?”

He looked away, turning to the list of pastries to choose a snack.

“What cake do you want?”

“A chocolate muffin.”

“I think I’ll take a blueberry one. And yes, you can have a bite,” he answered before you could ask the question.

“You didn’t answer.”

“Answer?”

“Why aren’t you worried about people finding out about us anymore?”

You saw the way he clenched his jaw, the way he tightened his hold on the books under his arm. His gaze was fleeing yours, still focused on the sweet treats in display, but he did answer, his voice so low and deep you barely heard him.

“Now, I know you’re the love of my life.”

You blinked tears away, staring at him, taking in a sharp breath at his words.

“So… I don’t mind if all our colleagues know, even students. I’m not afraid of you suddenly realising that you could have better and dumping my arse anymore. I’m not afraid of us not being able to make our lives align, or whatever obstacles might be thrown at us. I just… I really just want to stay with you forever, so… who cares if they know? I’m not afraid of a break-up anymore. So, I don’t mind.”

Finally, he looked down at you, frowned a little at the sight of shining tears caught on your eyelashes, but when you grinned up at him, he smiled too.

“I love you so much, you know?” was your only answer, and Andrew nodded.

“Yeah… I’m starting to believe in that concept,” he chuckled.

He didn’t move away when you touched his arm, hand moving down towards his. Instead, he took his fist out of his pocket, intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I really want to give these girls a heart-attack,” you confessed.

“You sure?”

“Hmm… are you okay with that?”

“Murdering students is illegal. Even if it’s not fully intentional.”

You chuckled, mumbling something about how silly he was. But then his stare caught yours, and you didn’t think as you rose to your tiptoes to meet him halfway, so you could kiss him.

When you pulled away, Andrew dropped a peck on the top of your head, before letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You wrapped your arm around his waist too, while discreetly looking over your shoulder.

The three girls were going crazy.

“So?” Andrew asked, moving forward as someone was leaving the queue.

“We might have to call an ambulance.”

You both laughed, and you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth sip into your frame, filling you with quiet and love.

[hoes4hoseok]

enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together 

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭 

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end 

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were 

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures 

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years. 

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you) 

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life. 

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that 

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others 

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him? 

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

[ljaylmaoo]

Only Yours

hook x fem!reader

summary: you and hook have a relationship that everyone wishes they could experience and someone tries to break you two apart

genre: very angsty, also extremely fluffy

warnings: hook is really soft in this lol, hickeyss, arguments, there’s a kiss without consent in this, I think that’s it

a/n: hii! this is my FIRST post and one-shot that I wrote out of pure boredom lol. if there’s any typos sorry, I wrote this from 2 am to 7 am in one go lol. please let me know what you think after, AND PLEASE feel free to send requests! as I had a lot of fun writing this and would love to write more! hope you enjoy! thank you :)

word count: 3.6k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

At the moment, you were doing the final touches of your makeup in anticipation of Castlecoming. You weren’t very fond of wearing a dress. Sure you loved fashion, but dresses? Most certainly not. But you promised Bridget that if she got Ella to wear a dress, you would too. You also wanted to surprise your boyfriend James who would never expect you to actually wear a gown such as this one. So there you stood, admiring your figure in the gold, arched, full length mirror that sat in the corner of your dorm after brushing on some highlighter on the highest part of your cheekbones and tip of your nose. You cursed at yourself for liking the way the gown looked on you.

“Wow..”

The sudden low whisper like voice from the left of you made you jump a bit then relaxed when you recognized the comforting voice of your boyfriend which instantly washed away the nerves you previously had. You glanced over your shoulder, a radiant smile that couldn’t be hidden even if you tried crept up as you caught the sight of your breathtakingly beautiful lover carrying a bouquet of your favourite flowers in one hand and a box with a bow that held a corsage that luckily matched your dress perfectly.

He slowly made his way up to you, taking in every detail of the rare sight that lied in front of him. He gently set down the box on your vanity, “Art has no depiction that’s fitting of your description. Even the most ignorant would applaud and long for my loves radiance.”

A soft blush washed over your cheeks, “says you, my pretty boy.” You giggle taking the flowers he presented to you with a bow and placed your arms around his neck with him pulling your waist close to him. James has always been a romantic. Every compliment he gives makes Shakespeare’s poems seem dull. Everyone in the academy ached to have your kind of love. And the girls were envious of how James showed his love for you. Always showing you off every chance he gets. He was proud to call you his. He also could never keep his hands off of you, always had to be touching you someway twenty four seven.

Though you two were infatuated with love for one another, there would be the odd argument that would leave you not talking for a day or two which was usually due to his mean and sometimes cruel words that he really didn’t mean. He was still a VK after all.

“Doesn’t my darling look ravishing today?” Was something he would ask the VKs daily as he watched from afar with googoo eyes while smiling like an idiot as you were laughing and talking with your friends, not taking his eyes off you once. Even if you were in a fight and not talking that day.

“Aren’t you guys in a fight?”

“Doesn’t make her any less breathtaking and heavenly to look at.”

These days were torture for him. He tried to be tough and not show how much he was suffering without you, but it never lasted long. By the time he finally breaks he comes knocking on your door with a teddy and “I’m sorry” flowers with him apologizing profusely almost leaving him in tears begging you to take him back explaining how lonely his bed is and how he missed being tangled up with you in your bed every night having the ability to hold you close to him as you drifted off to sleep, and of course you can never stay mad at him. Especially when he’s making himself look like a fool in front of others as they passed by not caring if they judged him by how pathetic he looked, his mind only being set on getting you back.

He was also very protective and possessive of you. If anyone was mean to you or dared try to lay a hand on you flirtatiously, he wasn’t afraid to handle them himself or he would aggressively yet still carefully grab your waist, sometimes with his hook, and kiss you in front of them before smirking at them and watched with satisfaction as they rolled their eyes and walked off. He’d also sometimes give you a few hickeys, making sure that they were as visible as possible. you both wore a necklace with each other’s initials engraved and a diamond heart.

He had also gifted you a beautiful promise ring for your one year anniversary and you’ve worn it ever since.

His favourite pastime was gazing at you while you did your schoolwork or as you slept in his arms. “My heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own.” Is just one of the many examples he would say whenever you got insecure and were in denial. He always made sure you knew his devotion to you was for eternity.

You were soulmates without a doubt. Twin flames.

He kissed you passionately, hungrily placing his soft plump lips on yours. You melted into his touch, smiling at his desperation to get as physically close to you as possible in anyway he could. You tried to pull away to catch your breath but he wouldn’t let you, “James” you laughed with his lips still attached to yours, lightly pushing him away at his chest.

He finally pulled away, “yes, love?” He smiled still staring at your lips, lovingly

“I could barely breathe” you laughed again, “I’m sorry darling, I just can’t ever get enough of you.” He shamelessly admitted. You both stayed close admiring each other’s features, leaving no room in between. His hands still firm on your lower back as you stroked his hair. His hair was probably your favourite feature of his. It was soft and always the perfect length, swept back.

“I love you so much.” you whispered looking into his eyes while fixing his collar and necklaces after messing it up a bit from the kiss

“Not as much as I do you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think so” you replied knowing you always lose the ‘I love you more’ arguments. He laughed, “oh darling, we both know that’s not possible. My love for you will remain as infinite as the stars.” He said while caressing your cheek. You placed your hand on top of his and smiled shyly. He grabbed the box off of the vanity and took the corsage out, he gently took your hand and slid it onto your wrist then kissed your hand softly. “There you are my love.” He said while looking up at you. You had your hand on your chest, “oh my goodness! Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You said while looking at it in awe. He smiled, “of course darling.” He gave you a quick kiss and lead you to the door and opened it, “after you, gorgeous.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and James entered the ballroom together with your arm wrapped around his and hands intertwined looking around the huge decorated room. It was everything you’d imagined it would be. Everyone dressed up in breathtakingly beautiful suits and gowns scattered around the room mingling with their friends or dancing with their loved ones as music played in the background. James watched you in adoration, the amazement in your eyes made them sparkle along with the light glistening from the chandeliers above. The two of you got some glances from your peers of course as you were named ‘Best Couple’ in the yearbook and everyone adored your relationship for the most part. Among the people who were jealous, there was one girl in particular that absolutely despised your relationship. That girl goes by the name of Aria. (if your name is Aria I’M SORRY LMAO) She hated how happy you guys were especially of how loving James was towards you and hated how much people adored your relationship.

She was also James’ ex girlfriend.

They were together for eight months and broke up just five months before you both officially started dating. During those eight dreadful months, they were extremely toxic. They would get into pointless heated arguments on a daily basis at school, some even resulting in James earning a slap to the face, but then would be seen back together by the end of the day making out by the lockers or something. You knew of James beforehand because he was part of Uliana’s crew and also because you had to pass his locker almost everyday in order to get to class and that was usually where they would have their fights. He never paid any attention to you at first, but when Uliana began tormenting Bridget, you caught his eye. He’d constantly try to flirt with you and you would often find him to be staring at you whenever you weren’t looking. One thing led to another and after four months of his many attempts to try and get to you, you finally gave in and decided to give him a chance and a month later, it was made official. You don’t know what changed in him for him to treat you the complete opposite of how he treated Aria and she hated you for it though she couldn’t do anything about it because she knew what he and the VK’s would do if she did. So she always judged from afar, only doing as much as giving you a glare everytime you made eye contact. She wanted to try and sabotage your relationship the night of Castlecoming and break the two of you up, so she came with a plan.

Aria was with her friends when one of them spoke up, “woah, they look grossly fabulous tonight..” she turned and her jaw dropped instantly when she saw the two of you on the other side of the room talking to Uliana and the rest of the group, James spinning you around to show off your gown. She boiled with rage and turned back to her friends, “yeah, we are definitely going to break them up tonight.”

As James was talking with Morgie, you spotted your friends Bridget and Ella so you lightly tapped his shoulder and leaned in to whisper making sure Uliana didn’t notice as she was currently talking with Maleficent beside you, “I’m going to go say hi to Bridget and Ella, okay?” He looked down at you and kissed gave you a quick kiss, “okay, love.” You gave one more kiss on the cheek before heading off towards your friends.

Bridget squealed with excitement as she saw you approaching them, “oh my gosh! Y/n?! You look amazing!” She came up and pulled you into a hug, squeezing tightly to express how proud she was. “I know, I know” you jokingly said after she let go while blushing a bit. You smiled and hugged Ella, “wow I didn’t actually think I’d see you in a dress, like ever.” Ella gave a small smile and laughed, “I could say the same to you.” You scoffed, “well of course I did. We wouldn’t wanna disappoint our girl here now, would we?” You said while patting Bridget on the shoulder who was bursting with excitement jumping up and down while clapping her hands, “okay we need! To take pictures, come on!” She insisted before pulling you both over to the Photo Booth.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was later into the night and you were dancing with James, Ella had to go home due to her strict curfew her stepmother gave her, and Bridget went back to her dorm to let you and James have some time together. Aria and her friends watched you with rage as you were gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly, waiting for the perfect moment to begin her plan. He spun you around as the song ended and kissed your hand before leading you off the dance floor, “could I get you another drink, my love?” He questioned, “yeah, sure. I’ll be over there I just have to go to the bathroom quick.” He nodded and the two of you went your separate ways.

Aria smirked at her friends as the first part of her plan had come. She slyly walked off to the fruit punch table and stood in front of it waiting for James to walk up. “Hi James.” She said suspiciously sweet, he only rolled his eyes and scoffed, “what do you want? Can you move, please?” Aria gave a fake pout, “what? All I did was say hi.” She said innocently, “oh did you want some punch? I’ll get them for you.” She turned and grabbed two cups, “two right? One for you and one for your little girlfriend?” James had his arms crossed and stood impatiently, looking away from her, “yup.” Aria giggled and poured the first one, “here’s yours” she smiled before turning to pour the other. James took a sip of the drink while he waited.

A few moments later, you finished touching up your make up after washing your hands in the bathroom and walked out towards the punch table but you stopped in your tracks. There, in front of the punch table was Aria who had forcefully pulled James into an unexpected kiss. Your heart shattered at the sight. You made eye contact with James who had a shocked and angry expression that you couldn’t see. Your eyes welled up with tears before you ran out of the ballroom. James pushed Aria off him, “get off of me! What the hell, Aria?” He scolded before shoving the punch into her hands and ran after you. She watched him run after you with a smirk taking a sip in satisfaction.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You came bursting into your room as you cried, slipping off your heels and taking the accessories out of your hair and throwing them onto the vanity followed by your earrings and necklace. You ripped the corsage off your wrist and threw it into the trash can beside you. You studied yourself in the mirror, hating yourself for deciding to wear a gown only to surprise the one you thought loved you most only for them to humiliate you and look like a fool. You went and sat down on your bed as you cried into your hands. James came into the dorm in a panic causing you to jump, “Love, I can explain!” You furrowed your eyebrows in anger while looking at him in disgust, “no! I don’t want to hear it, James!”

“No, no, no, really darling! It wasn’t what it looked-“ you got up from the bed, “Oh yeah? Cause it looked like my boyfriend was kissing his ex girlfriend by the punch table!”

“Well yes but-“

“Do you still have feelings for her, James?” You yelled as you walked closer, “were you only using me to get back at her? Did you even love me?!” He was stuttering as he tried to answer every question you threw at him, “what? No! Of course I do!” He tried but you continued to yell at him, causing him to get angry and the screaming match began. It never ever got this bad before. If the dance wasn’t still going on, everyone would for sure be able to hear every insulting and harsh words you were throwing at each other. There were hot tears streaming down your faces as you continued. But as bad as it was, and as much as you wanted to, neither of you had the willpower to officially call the relationship off. You loved each other too much to do so and you both knew that.

You took the flowers he gave you earlier off your desk and harshly shoved them into his chest, “Get out! I don’t want you here! Leave!” You pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face. You took a deep breath and turned around, and started towards your bed. You didn’t know what to think or how to feel. You knew what he was saying made sense and knew he loved you far too much to ever do something to hurt you. But you don’t know why you kept going at him.

You sat down and stared down at the floor, your mind so lost in deep thought that you didn’t even realize you had changed out of your dress and into your pyjamas. You looked down at the shirt you’d just finished putting on and sighed, it was his shirt. You shut your lamp off and lied down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling as the thoughts in your head continued to flow. Why was he with Aria in the first place for that to happen? He shouldn’t have let that happen. But after a while you felt really bad for what you had said to him and the names you called him. But was he mad at you now too? You heard something that was slid under the crack of your door, you sat up and looked at the little piece of paper that was on the floor. You turned your lamp back on and slowly walked over and picked it up. You opened the paper, “My Beautiful Darling Y/n, no matter how much we fight, the love I have for you will never fade. You will never be unloved by me for you are far too well tangled in my soul. The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I’m so very sorry I let this happen, My Love.” You wiped a tear from your cheek as you finished reading. You set the note down on your nightstand and lied back down on your bed.

You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn’t. You missed the feeling of being secured and safe in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep. Your bed felt cold. Lonely.

After a few more minutes of attempting to force yourself to sleep, you got up and crept out of your room and down the stairs and proceeded down another long hallway before stopping in front of an all too familiar door. You stared at it, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea. But before you could make a decision, you were already making your way inside the dark room. You quietly walked towards the bed, softly and carefully getting under the covers making sure not to wake him. The warmth and familiarity of his body heat made you feel at ease. You looked over at his sleeping figure who was facing towards you and traced his features with your eyes, admiring everything about him and couldn’t help but smile. You really did love this boy with all your heart.

You turned away from him and sighed before closing your eyes to sleep, but just as you were drifting off, you felt an arm snake around your figure, pulling you close. You smiled and melted into his body as you felt the warmth of him engulf your backside, placing your hand on top of his that was placed above your stomach under your shirt. Well, his shirt. He pulled you closer and you felt him softly stroking your hair. Though it has only been a few hours since you’ve felt his touch, it felt like forever. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped your arms around him scrunching the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands while burying your face deep into his chest, he had managed to somehow pull you closer though it was physically impossible already.

“I’m sorry.” He heard your soft voice cry, muffled from being buried in his chest. He shook his head and stroked your head, “shh, no, no, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong, my love.” You let out a quiet sob which was terribly agonizing for him to hear. He looked down and placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze up to his. You looked into his eyes with a pitiful gaze, he saw how broken you looked. The moonlight that seeped in through the window above his bed glistening off your tearful eyes. “Don’t cry, love..” he tried but you rambled on, spilling everything your heart was feeling at that moment causing the pieces of his already broken heart shatter into a million more pieces. He stared at you not knowing what to say after you were done, only pulling you into a deep kiss, more passionate than ever letting his body do the talking without saying any words, pulling your waist close to his. He left sloppy kisses down to your neck, lightly gracing the sensitive skin with his teeth making you gasp in pleasure and gently pull at his hair before he continued to leave his mark with a smile while telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

This continued until both your neck and chest were covered with love bites. He trailed kisses back up and kissed you once more. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily while looking into your lustful, heavy lidded eyes that were threatening to shut and noticed as your breathing slowed. He pulled you back in and you cuddled back into his chest, “I love you.” You whispered, trailing off as you began to fall into a deep, well needed slumber.

“I love you too, Darling.” He whispered, leaving a delicate kiss on your forehead and rested his head on yours as you both drifted off to sleep.

[sunkissedscribbles]

The Beach

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x poet!mentally ill!reader

genre: angst, a wee bit of fluff

tw: mental health issues, swearing

word count: 2008

summary: enzo comforts you when having a mentally rough period

a/n: my soul needed this one. i don't really want to label reader's mental state because in my mind bpd was the starting point but I think it would fit under the terms of depression as well, that's why I haven't specified it in the pairing (and because i'm not a specialist). also, it contains one of my poems I have not yet posted on my main.

playlist: The Beach - The Neighbourhood

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It hasn’t even been a month since the new school year started, only two weeks. Two weeks got you utterly exhausted, and even that was an understatement. It felt like you had forgotten to talk, taking a little too long to answer, to process things – to think. Your head felt heavy with emptiness, your entire body ached as it didn’t seem to be able to release stress, holding onto it deep in your bones, low in your back.

It wasn’t just fatigue, it was emotional and mental exhaustion that made you want to lie in bed all day, yet your sensible side made you get up every day and go to your classes.

Those damn lessons.

You went to all of them, tried to siphon in as much of each subject as you could but your mind was elsewhere all the time.

At how sick you were.

At how tired you were.

And in the afternoons you did nothing other than lie in bed, trying to convince your mind that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with you, and that you needed to study.

Just five more minutes.

Oops, It’s been ten minutes ago.

Anyway.

You’re gonna start studying at next-hour-o’clock.

You didn’t.

At dinner you were only pushing your relatively small portion of food back and forth on your plate, your mind foggy with very negative thoughts as the chatter of your friends next to you blurred into an indistinctive mess of different voices over your head.

You were silent,

and lethargic,

all the time.

It was after dinners when you lay in bed, hoping this was a phase or something you’d eventually get over. But in the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t.

And you didn’t really want to, either – you felt so down, so numb that you felt like you couldn’t move in the direction of getting better.

Not properly.

Not permanently.

Lying there, alone, you couldn’t think of anything better than causing your own pain, physically – at least you’d feel something, wouldn’t you? Even if it’d hurt – maybe you’d deserve it. Maybe you’d deserve it because you had spent your entire summer not doing anything valuable, pushed down these feelings of despair, hurt, pain, depression. You didn’t study saying you couldn’t pay attention and you were tired – of course you were when you kept staying up endlessly, only getting mere hours of sleep and not eating enough.

Maybe you did deserve to feel this way.

You missed the affection, just a hug at least, from your friends. But you have been so withdrawn from them and they were all beating around the bush, not knowing how to corner the question of your visibly deteriorating mental health.

It was Enzo though, who paid the most attention to you; he knew you like the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realised it. He cared about you, probably more than he should’ve. He’d known all your mood swings, and even when you had better days, he knew you were going to be just as down, if not even worse in just a matter of days.

He couldn’t bear seeing you like this, he missed the carefree, loving Y/N you were. He missed his Y/N. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his heart as your tone only made it obvious just how tired and ill you were. Every time he saw you scribbling into your notebook he knew contained your poetry his heart ached, even when it was just two words.

He knew you were starting to give it all up.

Life.

You didn’t cry, and that was obvious – you’ve never been one to cry much or cry immediately when something relatively bad happened, or when it was something that you took too personally, nor when one of the bandages you thought were securely protecting your wounds were ripped off, not suddenly but slowly to hurt even more as it stuck to the surface of your heart. No, you took it, held yourself together, trying to maintain the facade you built so well and perfected over the years of suffering from whatever game your mind was playing with you.

Because the more people knowing you’re hurt the more able to hurt you.

Because the more pain you show the less people will think of you.

Because the more you trust the more leaving you and hurting you in the end, the more betraying you.

You were more on the bottling-up side, but the bottle always spilt in the end when it couldn’t hold more.

More suffering, more floating, more silence, more pain.

So, two weeks after your seventh and last year at Hogwarts had started, here you were, writing a new poem in the Astronomy Tower.

I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace, you wrote the last two lines, the cool autumn breeze in your hair.

“Y/N?” Enzo’s voice echoed through your ears, and closing your notebook, you looked up at him. This was the day the bottle broke – you’ve been crying before writing your poem.

Startled by your red eyes, he looked at you with concern. “Y/N, were you crying?” he immediately crouched down in front of you, and as he took your face in his palms gently, you could feel the dam break again. You didn’t like this. No, you couldn’t be crying in front of him.

“Just, uh, tired,” you answered in a low tone, trying to convince him – or yourself, rather.

He looks down at the notebook and shakes his head, “Liar. Let me see.”

You hesitated – how could you possibly show him what you were feeling? It took you weeks to be able to put it into words, and it’s not too happy. “Please,” he asked softly, one hand caressing your cheek, the other reaching down for the notebook in your lap. And you let him, knowing he’d get what he wanted anyway.

You saw his facial muscles twitch and tense up as he read its title, his hand falling off your face: ‘goodbye.’

His eyebrows knotted in a frown at first, glancing up at your once lively eyes, now missing the bright, pure shine they used to have.

You watched as his expression became sad and even more concerned as he breezed through your lines written.

these lines; I plan them to be the last ones I write and speak, so that I can be free in a world where pain doesn’t exist, where no clouds disfigure the sky. I go tonight; I don’t regret and don’t look back, I’m not afraid to leave anymore, I give up the fight, I end the war. i lie down tonight and drift to sleep, I unite with nature forever, and release the built-up hurt and pain. I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace.

“Y/N, you–” he shook his head as he lifted his head again, meeting your eyes. But you, you couldn’t look into his, you felt like you’d break immediately. You were afraid of what emotion would look back at you. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? Or would he look at you differently?

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking your head, keeping it hanging low.

He cupped your face again to make you meet his gaze, gently yet forcefully tilting your head upwards. His eyes, as always had that caring look in them, mixing with concern, and a sense of fear that he’d lose you washed over him.

He’d lose you, before it was nature’s job to cross your path together, before he could even confess to you.

“...Why haven’t you told me?” he asked in a low, broken voice. Fuck, he couldn’t lose you.

You couldn’t answer him at first – how could you tell him that you’d been feeling like shit for weeks again? That the longer you’re alive the less you’re living? The more days you survive the more of your want to live, and the more of your shine you lose. you took a long breath and with a tremble tugging at your lips, you shook your head while a stray fat tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/N, darling…” he pulled you in for a hug and as his arms enveloped you tightly, your salty tears started raining down your cheeks again, lading on the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m sick…” you sob into his chest, not able to hold anything back anymore, not in front of him as your fists clutch the fabric on his back. “And I’m tired too.”

You weren’t fireproof, that was for a fact, and he knew it too, probably better than anyone. You didn’t want to burn in your own flames but you felt it, felt it burning you and spread over onto him, burning him too. You were holding on to him for dear life, hoping your own miserable state of mind wouldn’t murder you.

“...I hope I don’t burden you,” you trembled against his body and he held you tighter.

“You could never,” he assured you, shaking his head. “Never, honey. You’re not a burden.”

You didn’t need to say much, he’d known almost everything already. He just held you tight against him, as if you could just slip away and disappear if he wouldn’t – and the truth is, you could’ve, especially in this state. And you kept gripping his hoodie as you slowly calmed down in his arms, while his heartbeat gave yours a soothing rhythm to follow. 

You were slowly coming to your senses that felt numb all this time – his cologne was a nice mix of sandalwood and citrus which filled your nostrils and made you feel at home, even more at ease, his touch warm and soothing under your sweater, rubbing your skin through the thin layer of your shirt, his voice sending your mind into a state of contentment as he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like. You’d been friends for a long time and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two have built up over the years.

Then the three little words left his lips involuntarily; “I love you.”

You felt him stiffen against you as the realisation that he indeed said that out loud hit him, and coming down from your surprise, and trying to control your rapid heartbeat, you lift your head from his chest and meet his eyes. How could he love an emotional wreck like you?

“Y-you what?” you asked as if you hadn’t heard it right.

He gulped, trying to swallow his fear of rejection before repeating his words, “I said I loved you,” he led his hands onto your waist under your sweater as you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, but kept drawing you in lightly.

Without any further hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, afraid this was only a dream, hence wanting to enjoy every second of it and take it to the fullest.

His lips were so soft and moved so in sync with yours, and you wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, wrapped in his embrace, with your lips connected, your tongues dancing around, making your mouths a ballroom, available for only them.

You pulled back just to come up for air and to clarify one thing. “I love you too.”

Your words sent a jolt of electricity and happiness down his spine, and he leaned his forehead against yours before reassuringly whispering to you, “I’m not leaving. We’re in this together and you can count on me, anytime, anywhere. Just- don’t shut me out. Please… I need you here with me.”

You nodded against his skin and let out a heavy sigh. You knew it would be a long way, a really deep dive. But until it was him swimming with you it didn’t matter that you were out in the open. It wasn’t a sudden light, a newfound wave of relief taking you out to the shore, but the beach seemed closer than ever. 

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare

[til-all-are-loved]

{This Charming Man Part 5}

Summons

MTMTE Megatron x Reader | SFW

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4

Megatron’s commanding voice lingered in your ears even after you’d returned to your hab-suite. You replayed the memory of the day in your mind over and over wondering if you’d leave this job the same person that arrived at it.  Wondering if there was anything you could have said or done today that would have put you on top of the situation instead of being at its mercy.

You were aware of how weak you are against the Cybertronians, numerous on the Lost Light, a crew 200 strong. The vessel itself was hard to navigate and get across as a human without a ride from a friend. Not to mention, they are massive and incredibly long lived. Your life simply blip in theirs. Rest assured you feel safe among them for now. There's no doubt they would come to your aid if you were in danger, but you would owe them so much with little to offer in return.

Your room was silent, aside from the constant fidgeting you were doing. Your laptop sat untouched on the desk. Reports, notes, logs—they all seemed unimportant compared to the datapad he had given you earlier.

Sliding into your chair, you picked up the device and powered it on. The file Megatron handed you glowed faintly on the screen, waiting. You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the icon. Whatever was in this file, it wasn’t just words.

Taking a deep breath, you opened it.

The weight of stars, a burden borne,

By hands once raised, by lives once torn.

In silence now, the echoes stay,

Of lives misled, of debts to pay.

The tides of time erode, persist,

Yet scars remain, unfair tryst.

To heal is toil, to mend is fraught,

But bridges rise where hope is sought.

The verses unraveled before you.Each line carried the weight of a being who had known unimaginable power, loss, and regret.

Reach outward light; shadows cling

A fragile spark in chaos kindled.

Though burdened deep, with hearts askew,

Even wilted roots may bloom anew.

This wasn’t just introspection; it was a confession. An admission of yearning, of some kind. 

You whispered the final stanza aloud, the words catching in your throat:

And if the stars themselves

Should recoil from my reach,

Then from its tender flame,

Let humility teach.

You sat back, the datapad trembling slightly in your hands. Let humility teach.

As you read the poem, a tightness grips your chest, the words sinking deep. The intensity of it leaves you breathless.  For a moment, it’s as though the poem isn’t something he’s sent to you, but something that’s looking into you—into your unspoken curiosities about him that have until now been dormant. . You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your fingers cold and temples sweat. Feeling both flustered and utterly put on the spot, despite the solitude of your quarters. Could this have been a mistake? You wonder, your mind racing. This wasn’t an accident. But then why does it feel so personal? 

Another sleepless night. You cursed yourself for not having access to a hobby to distract yourself from the anxiety. When morning came, you shuffled into the hall, dark circles under your eyes and an unfinished report weighing on your mind.

“Whoa,” Swerve said, who was catching up beside you. “Ambassador, you look like you wrestled a turbofox and lost. Rough night?”

You grunted in response, gripping a mug of weak cold coffee.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “So, any juicy updates from the big guy? Or is he still doing the brooding-reformed-warlord thing?”

“Still brooding,” you muttered.

Swerve laughed. “Classic. Hey, don’t let him get in your head, alright? I mean, you’re doing great. Better than great.”

“Thanks, Swerve.” You smiled faintly, grateful for his relentless optimism, even if it didn’t quite reach you today.

The entire day was spent wandering the corridors with the datapad under your arm. You didn’t know where you were going. The datapad’s words still lingered in your mind as you moved through the corridors, their weight shifting into something sharper, clearer. Megatron had spent so much of his life as a destroyer; this—these words—were the opposite of that. A creation, a fragment of himself offered up to you. 

This wasn’t just poetry, it was a gesture. An olive branch to you, to humanity, to everything he’d once sought to dominate.

The thought settled uneasily in your chest, carrying with it a strange mix of pity and respect. You’d seen the worst of him in the historical records, but now, you were seeing something else entirely: a man ( or mech?) clawing his way toward redemption, not with sweeping proclamations but with quiet, deliberate steps.

That’s why you weren’t surprised when a communication ping lit up your personal device.

“Ambassador, meet me at dock A3 . I’d like a word.”

The message was short and to the point, but your stomach still flipped as you read it. He hadn’t asked like this before, not directly, not outside the bounds of official meetings or briefings.

It was reckless to agree, but you did anyway.

Dock A3 was quiet when you arrived, the low hum of the Lost Light’s engines thrumming in the background. A maintenance shuttle idled nearby. You spotted Megatron standing beside it, his massive frame dwarfed only by the vast expanse of space beyond.

“Ambassador,” he greeted, his tone even, but there was something softer in it now— a welcoming intonation in every syllable. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Captain,” you replied, stepping closer. You stopped a few feet away, clutching the datapad against your side like a shield.

“I trust you’ve had time to consider the file I sent you,”

“I have,” you said, and you meant it. There was no hesitation in your voice now, only curiosity. “I think... I understand what you’re trying to do. With humanity, with... everything.”

Megatron regarded you for a long moment, his optics narrowing slightly. “And what do you think I’m trying to do, Ambassador?”

You hesitated, but only briefly. “To approach the idea of starting to make amends,” you said. “Not just for humanity’s sake, but for your own. You’re trying to find... balance. A way to live with what you’ve done.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Megatron’s expression shifted. There was no pride in his features, no satisfaction at your answer—only a faint, weary acknowledgment.

“Perhaps you’re not as far from understanding as I thought,” he said quietly.

You felt a small swell of vindication, but it was tempered by the vulnerability in his voice. He wasn’t testing you, not this time.

“Why did you call me here?” you asked, daring to step closer.

Instead of answering immediately, he turned toward the shuttle and gestured toward the open cockpit. “Come,” he said. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

“A circuit around this planetary system,” he said, stepping toward the shuttle and pausing to glance down at you. “Unless you’re afraid.”

With unexpected grace he stooped low and offered a massive hand to climb up onto. Without thinking you stepped onto his palm. You gasped watching the floor disappear beneath you, He lifted you steadily but not slowly. You reached for his thumb to keep yourself from falling. You were delicately hovered over the ship’s stairs that would have probably taken you a minute to clamber over. His courtesy saved you the embarrassment, however much it probably twisted him up to be handling an organic even for a moment. 

Your pulse quickened as you stared at the shuttle, your mind racing with possibilities. It wasn’t like him to be this... inviting.

The flight was brief, the shuttle cutting smoothly through the vast emptiness of space. Megatron piloted in silence, his massive hands steady on the controls. You watched him from your seat, the datapad resting forgotten in your lap. 

For all his power and size, there was something in the way he moved—calculated, as if every action was a careful negotiation with himself.

From the primary viewport you watched as the colossal spaceship you were currently calling home pass. For the first time you realized you had not actually seen the exterior of the Lost Light with your own eyes. It was grand, and beautiful. Light from a nearby star that the ship was currently within orbit of danced across her hull. Flashes of vibrant yellow and magenta light twinkled from reflections from her many viewports as you tried to take it all in. Craning your neck you tried to follow her before she disappeared behind the shuttle.

The flight was brief, the shuttle cutting smoothly through the emptiness of space.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “I’ve spent millennia convincing myself that the ends justified the means,” he said, his voice low. “That the destruction I wrought was necessary, even noble.”

You turned to him, surprised by the sudden admission.

“And now?” you asked carefully.

“Now I see the flaws in that ideology,” he said. “But recognition isn’t absolution. It’s not enough to simply see the damage. One must repair it.”

The shuttle slowed, docking gently against a small, empty platform on the ship’s exterior. Megatron powered down the controls and turned to you, his optics glowing faintly in the dim light.

“That’s what this is,” he said, gesturing to the datapad in your hands. “An attempt to repair.”

You swallowed hard. “I think you're on the way to making that true,” you said quietly. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and Megatron’s optics glowed ever so slightly. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you felt a rush of heat climb up your neck.

His gaze settled on you and softened, just a fraction. Soft clicks and puffs of hydraulics emanated from his joints as his shoulders dropped. 

“Perhaps,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But... even when surrounded by others, I’ve never felt more alone.”

The weight of his words hung heavy between you, and for a moment, the hum of the ship seemed to fade into nothingness. Megatron, the conqueror, the warlord, the leader—admitting something so raw,  the honesty was so human.

"You might not think this, but I know the feeling,” you spoke slowly and intentionally before succumbing to the awkward tension. “ I- I mean.. My experience in this lifetime is nothing compared to your kind—I can’t begin to fathom what you’ve lived through. But you offered me a look inside, and despite everything you’ve done, I respect that deeply."

"I hope you know that."

The shift in his expression was subtle, but you could see it—something in the set of his jaw loosened just a little. Megatron vented slowly, his optics flicking away before settling back on you. For the briefest moment, he looked younger— almost boyish.

“I don’t know if that’s something I’ve earned,” he admitted, his voice quieter. He shifted in his seat, one massive hand running over the edge of the controls as if searching for something to occupy it.

"And yet," he continued, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary, "I think... I’d like to find my way back."

A brief, barely perceptible nod followed, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was telling you. He cleared his throat softly and looked ahead.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said at last.

The words were simple, but there was a weight to them—the kind of decisiveness that never left him, even now. He still spoke like a leader. 

“We should return.”

You nodded, clutching the datapad as you slid off of the massive chair you had been placed on. The silence that followed was no longer heavy or strained; it felt like the beginning of an understanding, tenuous but real.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Hey! I hope you're doing well!

I was wondering if you could do a little something with the reader being Gil Galad sister and falling for Celebrimbor everytime they meet (Gil galad teasing his sister about it👀).

Fluff or angst, I let you choose 🫣❤️‍🔥

This was so fun to write!! It might be a bit ooc from Gil Galad but I love the idea of him being an absolute menace to those he's close to.

The Princess of Lindon

The first time you met Celebrimbor, you couldn’t understand why your brother held him in such high regard. Standing in the gilded halls of Lindon, he seemed a touch too serious, his golden hair catching the sunlight in sharp lines that matched the geometric precision of his voice. His words, though, carried weight: precise, deliberate, but never unkind.

“You must be Ereinion’s sister,” he said, bowing his head slightly, though his eyes—bright as polished mithril—never left yours. “He speaks of you often.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking a glance at your brother, who stood at Celebrimbor’s side, his mouth twitching in a barely restrained grin. “I hope only good things.”

Gil-galad didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “I told him you’re stubborn as a dwarf and twice as likely to quarrel.”

“Charming,” you shot back, your tone sweet as honeyed wine, though your gaze lingered a moment too long on Celebrimbor’s face. He was watching you, amused.

In the days that followed, you found yourself seeking his company more than you intended, drawn to his quiet passion for his craft. Each visit to his workshop was another step into a world of firelight and molten beauty. You marveled at the works he created, from delicately wrought circlets to great armaments destined for Elven lords.

“What do you think?” he asked one evening, holding up an unfinished pendant. Its design was intricate, almost fragile—a series of interwoven vines encircling a starburst.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended. When his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you, the heat from the forge wasn’t the only thing warming your cheeks.

+++++++++++

The afternoon sun poured through Lindon’s archways as you descended the steps leading to Celebrimbor’s forge. You had intended to slip away unnoticed, but your brother, as always, had other plans. Ereinion appeared out of nowhere, his long strides carrying him into your path with a smirk that could melt glaciers.

“Off to the forges again, are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The crown of Lindon glittered faintly in the light, but his expression was anything but regal. Mischief radiated from him like heat from a forge.

You sighed, stepping around him. “Yes, brother, I am. Kindly move.”

“What gift have you for him this time? A poem? Another rare flower?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or are you simply going to gaze at him longingly until he notices?”

Your pace quickened, but he matched you step for step. “Perhaps you should write him a letter, sister. Something heartfelt. I can help! How about—‘Oh, Celebrimbor, your hands of steel and heart of fire have utterly captured me—’”

You stopped abruptly, spinning to face him with a glare sharp enough to rival any blade in Celebrimbor’s workshop. “Do you ever stop talking?”

He grinned unabashedly. “Not when I’m having this much fun.”

“I’ll have you know,” you began, jabbing a finger at his chest, “that your meddling will get you nowhere. Celebrimbor and I are merely—”

“Friends? Colleagues? Acquaintances?” He rolled his eyes theatrically. “Sister, even the trees know how you feel. You could outshine the Two Trees with the way you look at him.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came. The accusation struck closer to home than you cared to admit.

Taking your silence as victory, Ereinion leaned down, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Listen, all I’m saying is, if you’re going to keep this up, I expect an invitation to the wedding. I’ll even officiate, if you like.”

You shoved him—gently, though it didn’t stop him from stumbling back a step, laughing as though he’d won some great battle.

“Go bother someone else,” you snapped, marching off toward the forge.

“Don’t keep him waiting!” he called after you, his voice still laced with amusement.

++++++++++

Years passed, and your visits became a quiet ritual. Sometimes you brought small gifts—a poem you’d written, a rare flower you’d found during a walk through Lindon’s forests. Other times, you simply sat in the corner of his workshop, content to watch him work, the rhythmic hammering of metal a soothing cadence.

Gil-galad noticed, of course. He noticed everything.

“Planning on making him a crown, sister?” he teased one afternoon, catching you on your way to Celebrimbor’s forge.

You glared at him. “Planning on minding your own business?”

He feigned a look of shock. “Oh, but it is my business! The sister of the High King consorting with Eregion’s lord? What will people think?”

“They’ll think you’re insufferable.”

“I am insufferable.” He grinned, leaning in. “But at least I’m not pining.”

Your glare could have felled an Orc, but Ereinion only laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Go on, then. Don’t keep him waiting.”

++++++++++

It wasn’t just your brother who noticed. Galadriel, with her piercing gaze and sharp tongue, was impossible to fool. She cornered you one evening after a feast, her eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to amusement.

“Celebrimbor?” she asked bluntly, swirling her wine.

“What about him?” you replied, feigning ignorance.

Her lips curved in a knowing smile. “You watch him as though he’s a riddle you’re trying to solve.”

“And you watch everyone as though you know the answer,” you shot back, though your face betrayed you, the faintest flush creeping up your neck.

She laughed—a rare, musical sound. “He’s a good man. Just be careful. His heart is tied to his craft as much as it could ever be tied to you.”

++++++++++

The moments you shared with Celebrimbor were often quiet, but each one built upon the last, weaving a bond as delicate and strong as mithril. He never spoke openly of his feelings, but his actions spoke for him. He listened when you spoke of your dreams and fears, crafting small trinkets to match your words—a silver leaf when you told him of your favorite tree, a delicate sunburst when you mentioned longing for the warmth of Valinor’s light.

One night, as you stood beneath the stars, he handed you a simple ring, its design understated but flawless.

“For you,” he said, his voice almost hesitant. “A reminder that even the smallest things can endure.”

You slipped it onto your finger, the cool metal warming almost instantly. “It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

He hesitated, then added, “Not everything I make is for kings.”

++++++++++

By the time Elrond began visiting Lindon more frequently, the dynamic between you and Celebrimbor had become a favorite subject of teasing.

“Have you told him yet?” Elrond asked, his expression far too innocent for someone meddling in your affairs.

“Told who what?” you replied, pretending to be oblivious.

He only smiled. “You’ll know when you’re ready.”

++++++++++

Ereinion wasn’t often in Celebrimbor’s forge. The High King had little need to concern himself with the intricacies of smithing, but today he’d come with a purpose—a commission he needed to discuss. Yet as he pushed open the heavy doors, he paused, one hand still on the iron handle.

The scene before him was not what he’d expected.

His sister and Celebrimbor stood close together, the soft glow of the forge casting golden light over their faces. Celebrimbor’s hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek, while she held onto his tunic as if afraid he might vanish. They were locked in a kiss—tentative at first but growing deeper, the unspoken feelings between them finally laid bare.

A sly grin grew on his lips.

“Am I interrupting?” he called, loud enough to startle them apart.

His sister turned first, her face a picture of mortified surprise. Celebrimbor, ever composed, cleared his throat and took a step back, though the slight flush on his cheeks betrayed him.

“Ereinion!” she exclaimed, her tone sharp enough to cut. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied, striding further into the room. “But I suppose I don’t need to.”

She glared at him, arms crossing defensively. Celebrimbor, meanwhile, was very pointedly looking anywhere but at the High King.

“It’s about time, really,” Gil-galad continued, his grin widening. “I was beginning to think I’d have to forge an alliance contract just to get the two of you to admit it.”

“Brother, dearest,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “go away.”

He ignored her, addressing Celebrimbor instead. “Welcome to the family, old friend. About time you made it official.”

Celebrimbor opened his mouth as if to respond, but your glare cut him off. “Don’t encourage him,” you hissed.

“Encourage me? I’m practically overjoyed!” Ereinion raised his hands in mock surrender. “But fine, I’ll leave you to your…moment. Just remember—dinner tonight. And don’t be late.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, laughing under his breath. Behind him, he heard his sister mutter something about his insufferable nature, but it only made him smile more.

He had waited years to see her happy, and now she was. That, to him, was worth every ounce of teasing.

[crystaldivination]

"𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒"

› 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 ＆ 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ‹

𝆩 pick a cards 𝆩 paid services 𝆩 leave a tip

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝟏, 𝟐, 𝟑,

𝟒, 𝟓, 𝟔

Hello lovelies, it’s been a while. I wanted to put in some effort and provide you guys with a good content that longer is than usual so I came up with this pick a card reading based on one of my paid services option that you can also purchase for a minimum price. I hope y'all like this and would love to hear what you think about it. Enjoy and I’m sending you lots of love your way! 🤎

ℒ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝟑𝟑 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ℒ

— "the power of divine connection and a sign from the heavens that our inner wisdom can help us find our soulmate" —

— "love and your connection with someone is about to change for the better" —

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞? As always meditate or close your eyes before looking at each picture. Trust your intuition and pick out a picture you feel the most drawn to.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 — 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 & 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

How do I not think about you? I long for you. Is this what being in love feels like? I smile even though you’re not mine. It’s already late but I’m still looking at the ceiling, tossing and turning endlessly. I’m lying on my bed hugging someone’s smile feeling so restless until the morning. Can you see how foolishly I’m holding my face while smiling wide? Each night I’m dreaming of standing next to you in the pink spring sun. Time passes by quickly that I don’t even notice and brings me sorrow and nostalgia. I called your name softly, painted my own hope. A stream of emotions rushed inside me by the time I realized that I’m in love with you. I had to do something about it, don’t you think? But instead I’m still keeping it to myself as I have no one to share with. Insecurities are filling me up as to how you’d think of me and see me after you know. It’s sad but kind of funny. You know the stars in the sky are my only friends who listened to me babbling about a first love as beautiful as a dream. I don’t usually write but for the first time I’m finding myself fantasizing about writing you poems to confess my love for you. My feelings are overflowing for you that I even forget my hunger at the thought of you. I’m singing alone like a fool.

Can I hold your soft hands for once? I imagine about your rare eyes that are shining so brightly and looking up at me. Just thinking about this makes my heart beat so fast as if it’d explode. Turns out when we love someone even if it’s a one-sided love, even if I can’t let go, I still find myself laughing and smiling at 3 am. Just hug me, please hug me. Hug me in my dreams. Just that only already makes me crazy happy like you’re right beside me. My body is burning up for you, because of you. Like a fever how it seems like I'm with you. I’m about to write you some sweet verses and want you to name it. How would you name me too? I want you to call me names. Missing you, wanting you so much right now. Like crazy, what to do now? You keep making me go crazy. I can’t concentrate, my mind keeps wandering elsewhere. I’m always elsewhere. How much is it enough to be lonely filled with thoughts? Me stupidly loving you on my own, loving you to the point of not caring how much time and how many days have passed.

Love your eyes, love your lips and here I’m still denying it. My shy heart unreliably continues to beat the wrong heartbeats. More and more each day. My love for you grows each day. Want to hold those hands once. I’m letting myself immersing and getting lost in each soft and soothing verses describing you. Even the stars can understand how in love I am with you. You’re as beautiful as an angel. As if you’re an angel. My angel. If only…if only… What can I do? Please tell me. All these delusions and hallucinations are making me high. I’m love sick with you. Touch me, love me, kiss me if you can. Do anything to me just don’t do nothing. I’m tired of not having you but I can’t stop my greediness. Please look at me. Do you even notice me? Is this love? Can this be love? Who am I to not give in… You’re making me feel this type of way just for it to be nothing at the end. The more hurt I am, the more I want you though. My insatiable thirst for you tortures me. Please be mine. I’m here waiting for you.

Channeled songs:

• Like Crazy (English Version) — Jimin

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

I should’ve known better. Can’t even pretend like I don’t want it again. You’re on my brain all the time. Thinking about what all we could do. You did something to me 'cause this doesn’t happen too often. Something that makes me look at you too often. And baby you can give it something. My heart, my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my heart is saying… I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell you what it is but you got me going crazy. I’m talking crazy. I need you right now. It’s the way that your body moves, your hands touch, your lips look, your gazes hypnotize me. Love me nice and slow baby. I want to feel all the love you’ve got for me. You make me wanna replay all of the things that you and I, we do. Baby come through my phone. Tell me how much you miss me, how much you want me and I’ll make it come true. Put it down on me. Look at what you make me wanna do. Drop everything and everyone for you. Got my feeling running on the loose, wild. This ain’t what I’m really used to but I like it. If it’s you I’m all yours. I’m all in.

Let me pull out this car for you. Let us go on a race but let’s make it long and slow. Are you ready for this marathon baby? Let me hear you say "pull it". Are you waiting to get some more? I want to hear it. Beg me, lovely cupcake. I want to see you on a whim. Can I see that look on your face? The one that would say "chase me". How you wanna play this, baby? Baby you can ride all the time. I want to be in trouble, how about you? Promise me you don’t trip cause I want it to last forever. Show me how good of a troublemaker you can be, baby. I think too often about you baby, let’s cuddle up afterwards. Tell me about your day while I softly kiss your neck. Truly love you, do you know how much I love you? It’s not just the s*x and how our body move together and collide. Just know that I’m serious with you. I still remember the moment you lit up in a smile or those moments when you show signs of jealousy. I will remember them forever until I’m still with you and beside you. Even if we’re apart my heart is still yearning and waiting for you. Your love changed me, calling and waking up my peace. I’m missing you. Funny just how many stories can be made out from us for all that we’ve experienced and those nights hoping for you, dreaming about you.

I don’t need much in life. Just need you to understand me and know that I always and will always love you because in me there is only you. You’re my only reason. Saving you thousands of heartfelt lyrics and poems. I would give you all the sunrays and cool breezes you need. You’ve awoken me, the glow in me so i’m trying to be an inspiration to you, your kind of inspiration. I will help you find a passion that’s more beautiful than that I have for you in my dream. Forget all those worries because I’ll be there and follow you like a shadow wanting to guide your steps on a long path with only us two. I wanna be in your arms. I think I’m under your spell cause every time I’m near you my heart starts to roll, I always want more. You’re my heaven and my hell but I won’t deny, I won’t be scared. We can head deeper, seeing what there is more to know. I won’t hear or see anything else other than your heartbeats next to mine. There’s no forgetting you. I won’t quit you, I can’t and I’m not gonna regret it. Lay me down, bare me naked. You can take away my heart. Feel my burning desire in me for you. You make me want to risk it all for you and I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna take that risk and risk it all for you my baby.

Channeled songs:

• Quit (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

PS. I literally heard this whole song while channeling their messages so I decided to include specific fragments of it in the reading. The song could be in some way significant for them/for you and/or for your connection whether this be a display of their current energy (for you) or the dynamic between you both OR it could just be that what they wanted to say match these lyrics a little too well 🤷🏻‍♀️

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

‹𝟹 leave like & re-blog if you love it!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 — 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

I do whatever you say. Do whatever you want me to. Baby I'm okay. You can break my heart in two. If your heart has been broken before, let me put it back for you. Look into my eyes, open up your mind. I won’t tell a lie, I won't make you cry. I won’t be someone to make you worry each night. You don’t have to stay up at night waiting for me 'cause I won’t come home late to you. Won't you hold my hand? It never felt so right for me. I need you here tonight. Whisper sweet nothings into my ear while I make you feel so good like you’re on cloud nine. I will take you to heaven. Won’t you answer me? It doesn’t really matter because I got plans to get to know you better. Baby let's make what we got here last forever 'cause I don't wanna let you go, never. Dearest darling I just wanna be the one to do you right. We're standing here looking at each other, baby, eye to eye. Baby, I hope that you're thinking about giving me a chance with you tonight. You know how to do it so well that I don't know if I could ever get enough.

You belong with me. We belong to each other. Every place you go, I’ll follow. I’d be there. Can you trust me? Whenever there’s a shadow in your heart I’ll talk to you before your heart sinks. When it appears I’ll come running to you. I told you I’ll be your rescue. I’ll come to your rescue. When your heart feels heavy I’ll lift it up for you. We don’t need to do anything. Let’s just not do anything. If you change your mind I’ll grab onto your waist. I will hold you tight enough for you not to be able to slip away. I want to embrace you and let you feel love. And if you’re okay with it I’ll kiss you hard and soak in your scent. I wanna fall asleep drenched with your warmth and softness. Wrap your head around my neck. I’ll hold your mind so you won’t have bad dreams. I’ll hold your body so you won’t think of anything else. When you lean onto me I can feel the cool breeze of yours blew over me. A beautiful melody passes through my ears. Morning with you…it’ll be beautiful. Just like magic how your body feels on mine.

The way you love is one of a kind. Your love is healing. I feel safe with you and you make me come every time. I’ll pat your head and kiss your forehead like aftercare. You’re the only person I ever think about, nobody else compares. I want to get to know every side of you. I’m going to sit at the table and dream. Just like this again. I want the night to come earlier. You make my days better. I want you to give me more once again. So I hope you’ll come into my arms again. What words can I use to describe you? My heart is too deep. Can you come inside my mind? Will I be able to rise in your heart? I live through you. I’ll hold your heart. I can be a safe haven, an anchor for you to feel secured and stable. I’ll ease your mind and make you feel good all the time. I’ll wait until the moment you say "I feel the same way as you". I’ll be your song. Or a reassurance. Anytime in your ears. It will stay until you fall asleep. Until I can see you telling me with a smile that you feel the same way…until then.

Channeled songs:

• Adore (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒 — 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Is it already too late? I can’t stop myself from losing you. Tell me if you still want me and if you still need me. If only I didn't let go of your hand… If only you didn’t waver and I didn’t let myself waver from all the unimportant outside noises that came in between us. If only we didn’t run away at that time, what could’ve been out of us now?… If only we didn’t hide our weaknesses that we didn’t want the other to see. If we were brave enough to show what we didn’t ask each other. If only we didn’t keep it in us, keep it to ourselves. Would something have changed if we locked lips and kiss passionately just like the first time? If only at that time we didn't act like we were okay. If only we haven’t tried to fight it and didn’t pretend like everything didn't hurt as if our love ain't worth the risk… If only the world wasn't so evil to us, didn't let us be weak because we were too used to being on guard and bear with everything. The cuts have not healed but we pretended to be strong, no longer knew how to cry. And if only I wasn't so paranoid that one day you would disappear. If only I weren't hung up on the fact… If only you had proven to me that I was the only one. If only you would show me that I was the only one for you and if only I trusted you, you trusted me, we trusted each other then would you still be by my sidе? Would we still be together? Still laugh when we hear and see each other's names? Then would we still be madly in love, madly love like the first day we come to each other? Like the first day we fell in love, like the first day we were together?

Nights when I laid awake to pray, when you were all I’m thinking of. Days when I promised that whatever happens, I will still love you. I promised you no matter what may happen, I’ll love you. If that were true, would we still be in love? If only at that time we didn't let go of each other's hands… I’m thinking about if only at that time we didn't run away and if only at that time we weren't like that. Maybe, maybe... If I didn’t let you go. If only you and I had stayed. If only we didn't go that way… But maybe everything had to happen like that so I could learn to love myself. It’s time I have to admit that I have always been lying to my heart. Because if you wanted to, you would, but you didn't. It’s time for me to realize that I’ve been lying to myself 'cause it was easy to see but you were running from me. I hate the way I made excuses for every time you were so heartless. I hate the way I defended you every time you were so thoughtless. I hate the way I always said I was ok when I was lonely. I hate that I acted like that. I hate the way I felt humiliated and drown in self-pity. Hate cruel public opinions, hate thinking about you so much. I hate how I kept thinking about you too often. Hate to keep silent, pretending like I don't care.

But I still feel bad, cause it’s not just you. I’ve also made mistakes many times too, please forgive me. You and I we both know, we were not perfect. I didn’t want to let you down. You know I'll never be perfect. I never want to see you hurting. Promised you things that are now just a fantasy, a dream, forgive me. Promises I couldn’t keep, forgive me. Had to walk away to heal myself, forgive me. Forgive me for shutting you out so I could hold me. Found a new love and I hope you’ll forgive me. Forgive me for allowing myself to receive a new love and taking care of myself. Learn how to take responsibility for my own emotions, forgive me. Appreciate all the things that I have, all that I have now, forgive me. I hope you can do that too. So that one day we can see each other again, go back to each other. So that one day we can come back to each other again, smile at each other when we meet eyes even if we are no longer madly in love like the first day we were together. But we can get to know each other again like from the start. No more fears or doubts like before. Maybe one day you’ll hold me tight. Maybe one day we’ll do it right. How do you feel?… about it? What do you think?… about it? How do you like it?…

I hope we can meet again. We’re bound to meet again. That’s what I think. Love is pain, love is forgiveness. Love is an experience, a journey and I hope there’s a silver lining to ours as well. I’m still with you…

Channeled songs:

• Lose you to love me — Selena Gomez • Back to you — Selena Gomez

PS. These songs can describe the dynamic & feelings of both parties towards each other so the songs can be relevant for both of you

Side note: I got told that the messages for this pile match a song called © "neu luc do" by tlinh. I didn’t know of it until now but that’s what I heard while channeling the respective messages. Since this pac is based on songs anyway, just like pile 2 where I heard one whole song and included fragments of it in the readings as they seem to be important and really specific based on it, here it could also be that the subject of these messages identifies with the song hence I picked up these "lyrics" from their mind. I didn’t and don’t at all intend to steal anybody’s work!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

‹𝟹 leave like & re-blog if you love it!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟓 — 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Didn't say a word but I seem to know what you want. Just tell me, if it's not a miss, I might accidentally also like it. Don't look at me as if it’s something new like the first time when everywhere in this body you’re already used to. If you’ve already forgotten then I have an idea… what about we get to know each other again so you can get used to it again? I like your vibe, you know I’m a fan. I like your style and what you wear. I bet you’d look good even in mine but i don't like them on you or me tonight. I might like it better if I can trace your line and paint your silhouette on me. So you don’t need your clothes on anymore. I want to take a look inside you. Let’s strip them clothes down for me. I don’t need any clothes on let’s just strip them down together. We don’t need them clothes at all, our bodies intertwine together would be enough. I won’t let you wait, let’s take off our clothes. No need for anyone to wear anything tonight. You might keep on that thong when we get passionate and so in love. If you like that babe, that thong can stay. Promise you can have access to every inch of me, darling. Show me devotion when we devote oneself to each other. You know you always get my special treatment.

You keep me so connected to you darling. One touch of me can give you the answers to all your questions. Don’t let anything get in between us 'cause this is what we’ve been waiting for so long. I’m gonna treat you right. Open up your mouth when I put my lips on you. Kiss me deeply while I savor every taste of yours. We can be reckless, restless until the morning. No way it’s too much for me. Wanna make you cry for me. Darling, cry for me. You know you turn me on like no one does. I know you like to show so shine for me. Darling you’re my main character. My absolute no. 1 private dancer. No one gets to finish when both are so stubborn. You know me and I know you. How come I met someone like you? You’re a keeper, a good catch and everything I’m looking for. For you I won’t bottle things up. For you I want to be honest. You deep down know we are made for each other, right? I want to make your heart smile. To have you is like to have the stars. You’re absolutely beautiful and adorable. You shine like the moon at night. You shine on me with empathy and care. I’m never alone with you.

I know you’re rare and precious that’s why I want to love you right. You know by time you should be in my arms right now. I’ll hold you like I can’t let go. I’ll keep you safe and sound. Treat you soft and gently. To love and be with you is like to dance with the stars. Do you want to fly away with me where it’s only us two? My treasure, with you I am me. Call me and say my name so I can make you my baby and show you real love. I’mma show you how to love. It feels like I’m seeing fireworks for the first time when I see you. Your body speaks to me, I can’t hide it. I’ll go down on you and take you places. Turn off the light. Tell me babe how you want it, you decide. Darling get ready 'cause you won’t be disappointed.

Don’t you know that You and I are the infinite symbol that equals forever? Turn it around and forever has the same meaning as you’re the love of my life.

Channeled songs:

• Energy — BURNS, A$AP Rocky & Sabrina Claudio

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

‹𝟹 leave like & re-blog if you love it!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟔 — 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Do you see the temperature increasing? Heart beats faster because you walk in. My ribcage increases and my lips are shaking. This body doesn’t seem like me whenever near you. When you touch my skin lightly, that feeling, no one can do that. No one can compare, I hope you know that. It must be that scent, must be that shoulder and those contacts. Oh am I not the luckiest? No need to say much I think you know. If you want to be pampered, i’ma make it work for you. Lightly tinged the room with the color of love. I want you to hold me tight and don't let me go. Love me right. You make me feel so high. You are only allowed to be like this with me alone. I’m losing myself in this moment with you. No in every moment with you. I will take you all the way to Cali. Maybe you can call me daddy/mommy/yours. Come to me. With me here there’s nothing you have to be worried about. (beep beep beep) do you hear the sound of my temperature rising? (trip trip trip) my hands are tighter again.

Hypocrite I know, I pretend to be indifferent but do you know that under all the masks that I’m wearing to hide my true self, I act wild and crazy for you? I’m freaking out but I like how you make me freak out. I like the feeling how you can make me act out of my usual self. Let’s forget about all our characters and drop all the manners. Just say how you want it sweetheart, I can take you there. Let me show you how my body yearns for you. I want to do this only to you. We can be freaky, kinky and nasty, whatever you like. Foreplay with you, there is really no way around it. One of my utmost favourite things to do might be to fill you up to the brim. You do things to me that I never imagined. I wanna show you how I get down. I’ll kiss every inch of you and run my hands up and down your entire body. Do you want to feel it? I know you want me and so do I. I might as well steal you from you. Get down with me. I just want to steal your heart and sneak an arm around your waist and claim you as mine. You’re my simple pleasure, just like the breeze on my face or the fragrance of flowers. Tell me if i ever cross your mind then I’ll tell you how I want us to be each other’s guilty pleasure everyday. Sweetheart you got the sweetest heart I’ve ever seen or felt before. Keep your lips tight only for me. I know you like to dream so let’s make our dream a beautiful place where we pour out our intimacy for each other and slowly reveal a little bit of our heart’s desire and secrets to each other. I’m totally enamoured by you.

You’re so delicate. I want to love all of you. I want to be your protector. I want to take care of you. My heart longs for a beautiful soul like you. There is telepathy between our hearts. I only want to make you smile and laugh all the time because then I’ll be happy when you’re happy. I want to mold myself into you. I want our souls to be one. I will look you in the eyes and make you feel seen for who you’re meant to be. Like for the first time I will make you feel like everything is alright. I can be that soothing energy you’re looking for. I want to give you all of me. You’re my remedy. I couldn’t ask for more. I feel your energy with me often. My world is being shaken up by you. Do you want me the way I want you? I want to declare my love for you. You know the saying "There will be a day when we meet our own version on someone else" and I think I’ve found me in you. My desire is you and only you. From the bottom of my heart, i want you to know that you are the one i have been waiting for, the missing piece that completes my soul. You know how to make me fall for you just like that. I want to love you for who you are. I will do that because that’s how I love myself and accept my flaws so I can give you the same thing as well. I will learn how to love you wholeheartedly. I’ll understand all of your flaws. Will you let me in? You’re special. If you’re going through some rough patches just know that experiencing things that you don't want makes you clear about what you do want so keep going. I’m here cheering you on.

Channeled songs:

• Honesty — Pink Sweat$

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

‹𝟹 leave like & re-blog if you love it!