#the burden would have been so much harder on her

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[everwhovian]

what remains. | Hwang brothers

Part 1 | next part | masterlist

Part 4: In-ho becoming a police officer

In-ho built his life on his own. He put himself through university, became a detective, and earned everything with his own hands; his own effort. He never once turned to his absent father for help, never relied on his stepmother’s kindness, even when he knew she would have given it freely. Not because he didn’t appreciate her, but because he still didn’t know how to. He had never relied on a parent before. He had learned young that no one would catch him if he fell, so he made sure he never stumbled.

And he knew it hurt his stepmother. Knew she wished he would lean on her the way Jun-ho did, that he would let her be his mother, too. But the lingering thoughts never left him: if he accepted her help, wouldn’t that mean he was taking her for granted?

Wouldn’t that mean he expected her to stay, when he had spent his whole life learning that people didn’t? So, he kept his distance. He loved her in the only way he knew how: by never being a burden. And maybe that hurt her more than anything else.

When In-ho left for university, Jun-ho was only two years old. Small and wide-eyed, his little voice filling the house with endless questions and more often than not, it was In-ho he called for.

Leaving wasn’t easy. Not because he doubted his choice; he had worked too hard to get into university, had spent too long making sure he would never have to rely on their father for anything, but because of Jun-ho. Because every time he packed his bag to go back to school, Jun-ho would waddle after him, grabbing at his pant leg, his voice high and insistent. “Hyung, no go! Stay!”

And it nearly broke him.

He came home as often as he could, squeezing visits in between classes, taking overnight buses just to be there for a few days. It was exhausting, but the moment he stepped through the door and Jun-ho came racing toward him, arms outstretched, eyes shining as he shouted “Hyung!” – it felt worth it. Jun-ho would climb onto his lap, showing off new words he had learned, babbling about his favorite toys, his favorite songs, everything he had stored up to tell him.

But the visits never felt long enough. Before he knew it, he had to leave again. And each time, Jun-ho got a little bigger.

By the time In-ho became a police officer, Jun-ho was six already, just starting school, but still clinging to him whenever he came home. No matter how long he had been gone, no matter how much time passed between visits, Jun-ho’s face always lit up the moment he saw him, like nothing else mattered.

But the visits weren’t as frequent anymore. Work kept him busy, cases ran late, and sometimes, even when he wanted to, he just couldn’t make it home. And that was how, one afternoon, he found himself running late to pick Jun-ho up from school.

By the time he pulled up in his patrol car, the schoolyard was empty. Except for Jun-ho, sitting alone on the steps.

His little backpack rested beside him, too big for his small frame, his legs swinging idly as he watched the street. But he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t even restless. He was just waiting. Waiting for In-ho.

The guilt hit hard. Harder than it should have. He had tried to get here on time. He had rushed. But life, work, had gotten in the way, like it always did. And just for a moment In-ho compared himself to their father.

When he stepped out of the car, Jun-ho’s head lifted immediately, his face breaking into a bright, certain smile.

“Hyung!”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing his bag and running toward him without hesitation. No frustration. No disappointment. Just the absolute trust that, late or not, In-ho would always come.

In-ho crouched as Jun-ho threw his arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, as if he hadn’t just been sitting there alone.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered, ruffling Jun-ho’s hair.

“S’okay!” Jun-ho chirped, pulling back just enough to grin at him. “I knew you’d come!”

And that was what got to him. The unwavering belief in his voice, the simple, unshaken certainty that no matter how long he had waited, there had never been a doubt in his mind: his hyung would always come.

Swallowing the guilt, he nodded toward the police car. “Wanna ride in the front?”

Jun-ho’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jun-ho scrambled in, his excitement bubbling over as he settled into the seat, his feet barely reaching the floor.

As In-ho buckled him in, he made a silent promise to himself. No matter how much time passed, no matter how late he was – he would always come back. Because Jun-ho never doubted him. And he never would.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Part 1 | next part | masterlist

[thatscarletflycatcher]

It has probably been said before, but in It's a Wonderful Life, part of George's regret is a sense of guilt about what Mary could have had had she not married him; that she is in it because she loves him so much, and so she endures the life they have. And yet when we get to the reality where George never existed, Mary is a librarian. There's this contrast between the casinos and the cabarets and such (all exploitative and fraudulent ways of preying on desperate poor people) that populate Pottersville, and Mary, in this timeline, choosing the one job that remains a community oriented, free, helpful service. She married George because she loved him, yes, but also because his convictions about doing good for his community were also hers all along, and would have been even if he had not existed. She doesn't endure the life they have out of sheer abnegation, but embraces it out of conviction.

[annamaryllis]

I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

[heyitsphoenixx]

.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss It Better

Curly (mouthwashing) x reader

AN: No one asked for this but CURLY DESERVED BETTER-!

Sum: You were taking care of Curly, your partner, when you just had to ask him a question that was burning you as much alive as the cockpit burned him. Did he actually crash the ship?

Warnings: 18+, gore, medical situations, Jimmy, violence, just mouthwashing in general, ablism, lots of medical stuff (from someone that knows way to much about medical shit because of being in and out of the hospital all her life)

“Morning honey.” You would force yourself to smile. You had to. You had to for him. To give him hope like he always gave you. To be a little bit of real sunshine through the day. Just wanted to take care of him. Give Anya some kind of break.

A wheeze was your greeting.

Wasn’t like it was his fault. He couldn’t really speak right now. You wondered if he would ever speak again. You would miss his voice but it’s worth it for him to live. He will live, you knew he would. You would make sure of it.

“Let’s have a look at you.” You would grab the clipboard that Anya left for you and took a look over. The small little list to help you understand how to care for his issues. When to wash him, what time his medications were, whatever routine was needed for that day. Was your Bible so to speak. You followed it to the last ink splotch.

“Your bandages don’t look to need to be changed yet, your IV bag needs to be changed, I’ll check your catheter, and yada yada yada. Wanna try and swallow today? Maybe if you can swallow some water I can grind up the pain pills into powder for you. Wanna try?”

He gave two distinct blinks for yes.

“Wonderful. Let me do this routine, so you can mentally prepare.” You would explain, as you went to slip on the latex gloves. Didn’t want to risk transferring some kind of infection. He’s already fighting for his life as it is. No need to make it harder.

You would first change out his IV bag, since he needed to stay as hydrated and fed nutrients as possible, before working on the awkward catheter. Luckily Anya made it very easy to use. She had opted for a condom catheter since she didn’t want to put himself at anymore risk to infections, and pain, as possible. Seemed the trauma made it rather impossible to control his bowls anyway so it worked out. All you had to do was drain the bag, wash it, and reattach it to the side of the table. Wasn’t like he was going to be moving around much anyway.

“So Daisuke was showing me his gameboy. Teaching me about how the lore works and all that. I really had no idea what he was talking about, but it’s better than Swansea snoring.” You laughed, and did your best to keep yourself peppy. To help Curly feel somewhat involved with society. To not just be trapped in the med bay alone. Daisuke and Swansea would visit, and Anya did what she could medically, but sometimes you just need someone to talk to.

“Think it’s a rouge like game. That’s nice. Helps keep you entertained with wanting to break through more and more dungeons in one session.” You rambled, before reattaching the bag. Had you sigh in relief to see you didn’t mess up the chord. Some urine had already started to fill the bag. Must have been triggered by the new IV. Good good. Everything was correct.

“You ready?” You asked, as this was always the hardest part. Getting medication in him. Anya would do her best but you couldn’t blame her for struggling. It’s such a mental tax to try and take care of someone but it results in more pain. You were willing to take that burden. You were his partner after all. You felt it’s only fair you take care of him. Gave Anya some breathing room to actually care for herself. She deserved to take care of herself to.

With two clear blinks you would get to work.

You would slip your hand under his back, and forced him to sit up. He groaned in pain, and tried his best to keep his head upright, as you two tried to work together. To survive this. To try and fight through.

“You are doing so well.” You reassured, as your brought the water bottle up to his open mouth. He was able to let his head hang back, and did what he could to open his throat. Was awkward, but he managed to do it. He took a proper swallow of water. You could hardly hide your excitement.

“You did it! Oh my god you did it!” You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. It hurt, of course, but he very much felt it was worth it. He had his own pride in being able to do some kind of basic human function again.

You would lay him back down, and was quick to grind up medication to put in the water bottle. You couldn’t wait to tell Anya his progress. You were positive the rest of the crew would be happy to hear the progress.

Well…..Most of the crew.

You used your anger towards Jimmy to help you grind the pain killers into powder. Oh how you hated him. You knew deep down he was responsible for the crash. You knew he was. You weren’t sure why he would be, but you just knew that Curly would never. If he had to, for whatever reason, he would have come on to the intercom to inform everyone to prepare for a crash. He would have done something. Anything.

What purpose would there be in crashing the ship?

Jimmy was his copilot. He would be the only other person to have access to the cockpit. He had to have been involved somehow. There had to have been something going on. You just knew it.

You just wish you had proof.

You sighed, as you would shake up the powder in the bottle. Made sure it was fully dissolved to avoid any issues with it going down his throat.

You just couldn’t understand.

Why would Jimmy crash the ship?

You would return back to curly, and do the same routine again. Slow, and small, drips into his throat. Would take a while, and would make your arm beg for death, but this would make life easier for Curly. That’s all that mattered. A arm cramp is worth it to help Curly survive.

“Curly…..Since you are more lucid now I….I just gotta ask something.”

The way his eye darted towards you said he knew what you were going to ask. Knew that it’ll be asked. He knew, and he couldn’t help but try and look towards the door. As if afraid someone would walk in.

That had you very concerned.

“…..Jimmy crashed the ship, didn’t he?” You whispered. Tried to be as hush as possible, in case someone did overhear. Was just the slow drips of the water into his dry mouth, and you.

One blink.

Two blinks.

“I fucking knew it.” You gritted your teeth, as you felt stupid to ever even have the slightest doubt that any possible reality there would be that Curly would do such a thing.

“I wish I could ask you why. Do…Do you know why?” You had to ask. You just needed to know. Know if Jimmy was as dangerous as you thought.

One blink.

T-

“How’s the captain doing?��

You would turn your head sharply, and saw Jimmy. Just standing there. God you were terrified how long he had been there. Did he hear what you asked? Didn’t seem so. Jimmy was a very aggressive person. He snapped at the slightest tone shift. If he heard you ask a question like that you wouldn’t be talking now.

“He’s….Alive.” You were caught rather off guard. You didn’t know what to say. You were scared of him. You had to be brave, though. You had a better chance at defending yourself. Curly couldn’t.

You would hear his heavy foot steps come closer, and out right feel his body heat against yours. Just looking over your shoulder. Was like this burning shadow over you. Made you feel like you’ll be squashed like a bug.

“Has he been able to talk yet?”

That’s a weird question to ask. Why not ask how he’s feeling, what progress he’s made, how his vitals are. Why is him talking on the front of his mind?

Because Curly knew something he shouldn’t.

“No. I think he’s lost his voice for good. I don’t think he’s ever going to speak again.” You lied, as you finished the test of the bottle. Returned your partner back on the table, and spun around. Nose to chest to the man. Had you terrified, but you must be brave. For Curly.

“Damn. Rough for him. No more barking orders, huh?” Jimmy tried to joke, but you could only give an awkward laugh at. Mostly to keep from pissing him off.

If he’s willing to crash a ship what else is he willing to do?

“Did you need something?” You managed to force out, as you grabbed the clipboard. Just trying to find an excuse to not look directly at Jimmy. To have a motive as to why you would stay in the med bay longer than most. Just anything to get Jimmy to leave you two alone.

“Hey, I give a shit to about him. Is it criminal to care about my friend?” He snapped at you, and it made you grab your clipboard tighter. You swore he seemed to smirk at seeing you so startled. Like he got off to the idea that he got the captains sweetheart scared.

That he’s the new boss.

“Never said that. You are the co pilot and new captain. You-“ “Pilot now. As if he’s ever going to steer a ship again. Not even a wheelchair with those stumps.” He snorted, as you wanted to smack him across the face.

“Yes….As the new Pilot and Captain I would figure you would be swamped in work. Like finding a way for us to contact help. Kinda the biggest priority after Curly. Anya and I are busy with him. You, Daisuke, and Swansea can handle the rest.”

You noticed how he seemed to roll his eyes about Anya. As if he couldn’t care less about the woman. Made you curious on what kind of beef he would have with her. She’s Anya! Who hated her?

“Yeah. Guess you are right there.” He muttered, as if it was never on his mind. Never an option that they could escape. Oh how you were getting chills.

“Keep on trucken then. Take care of our Captain Cripple. His ass needs all the help his stumpy limbs can get.” He would give him a once over, before looking at you. You made sure to keep your eyes to the clipboard instead. All you did was nod in acknowledgment, before he left.

“What are we going to do, Curly?” You sighed, as you would just lay next to him in defeat. What can you do? You had no idea. Curly was always such a good captain. Made you regret never paying more attention to how he worked the cock pit. Maybe if you did you could be more useful.

As you were full of worry and regret, Curly would weakly try and turn his head. Naked teeth were against his cheek. A attempt to kiss your cheek the best he could.

You smiled at the gesture, and made sure to be careful with snuggling your face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, and you got me. We can do this. I know it.” You reassured you both, as you closed your eyes. There to wait until his pain medication kicked in, so he could sleep.

As you relaxed, you couldn’t help but swear something was strange about his breathing.

It was like….He was saying words.

You would focus as hard as you could on your ears, as he would drift in and out of his buzzed state. Fighting to stay awake, but sleep coming for him.

“A….a…n…ya…..Kn….ows……”

Part 2

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader feel the distance

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

i casted tom blyth as y/n’s costar in this for no reason other than the fact that i love him lol

When y/n’s agent called her to tell her she got the role she had been stressing over for the past few weeks, she was over the moon and had immediately got to packing. Ever since she had started acting, she had always wanted to do a romantic comedy, and when the opportunity showed up on her radar, she knew she had to take it. Prior to the project, her “romantic” escapades on the stage and screen were fairly limited, and now that she was at a secure spot in her own romantic life, she felt like it was an idea she could finally explore.

It had been a while since she had been on set, taking a break for her and Drew’s wedding as well as to support Drew after the premiere of Queer, and she desperately yearned to be back. Don’t get her wrong, she adored spending time with Drew and her friends and family, but the need to be on set or on stage was entwined so deeply in her bones she felt like she needed it to live.

Now nearly a month into shooting her project, her glamorous and idealistic vision of being back on set had started to dwindle. Of course she loved when the cameras were on, when she could feel herself relax into her element, but as the days progressed reality began to sit in. She missed Charleston. She missed her home… she missed Drew. And as much as she hated to admit it, it was making her job harder.

“You good, y/n?” y/n’s costar, Tom, said, shaking her out of the daze she hadn’t realized she had sunken into. They were resting between takes, the two of them getting their hair and makeup touched up.

“Yeah, sorry.” Y/n said, straightening her posture and flashing Tom a grin. Tom was sweet, a true gentleman, and someone that she came to consider a friend over the course of filming.

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed a bit… off lately, no offense.” Tom looked at y/n, his face full of concern. She looked back at him for a second and, before she could stop herself, her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Shit, could we have a second, please?” Tom asked the hair and makeup team, who nodded before leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what my problem is I—” Y/n began to ramble, dabbing at her eyes with a nearby tissue, praying she hadn’t already ruined the makeup that had just been fixed.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Tom said softly, handing y/n another tissue. She took it graciously, sniffling quietly.

“I just— god, this is so embarrassing!” Y/n chuckled nervously, glaring around at the numerous people who littered the set. Numerous people, all of which had people and places they missed too, but none of which were pathetically crying like herself.

“I can start crying too, if that would help.” Tom grinned, causing y/n to laugh lightly.

“No, I just… I really miss Drew, a lot more than I was expecting, I guess.” Y/n exhaled slowly, smoothing her hands along her pants.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Tom asked, resting his chin in hand.

“This morning.” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at how pathetic she sounded, acting as if she hadn’t talked to him in years when in reality it had only been a matter of hours.

“Have you asked him to come to set?” Tom asked.

“No, I… I don’t want to be a burden. He’s just so busy right now.” Y/n said with a sigh.

“I promise you, he won’t think that.” Tom said, looking past y/n for a moment before standing from his chair and offering her his hand. She took it, allowing him to help her out of her chair as they made their way back towards the stage where they were shooting. 

“I know, but…” Y/n trailed off as a girl came over, straightening out her shirt and dabbing a bit of powder under her eyes.

“He won’t.” Tom said firmly, patting her on her shoulder lightly before moving to get into position for their next scene. Y/n smiled softly, her racing mind starting to ease as the cameras began to focus on the two of them.

After finishing their morning shoot, taking a break in her trailer, and returning for a night shoot, y/n was drained. As she trudged back to her temporary apartment, y/n sorted through her keys until she found the right one. With a yawn, y/n unlocked the door and flicked on the lights before tossing her keys on the table in the entryway. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was the navy suitcase near the couch… or the person sitting next to it.

“Surprise.” Drew said, a huge grin on his face.

“Oh my god!” Y/n squealed, rushing over to him before throwing herself on top of the boy. She kissed him slowly, relishing in the intoxicating feeling she had gone so long without.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked exasperatedly once they finally pulled apart. They had discussed him coming to visit halfway through filming, but that was still a few weeks away.

“Tom called me.” Drew said, tucking a piece of y/n’s hair behind her ear as he gazed at her softly.

“No he didn’t, oh my god—” Y/n buried her face into Drew’s shirt, hoping to hide her embarrassment. Had he told him about how she was pathetically groveling all week? Crying on set?

“Hey, hey.” Drew lifted y/n gently, sitting her in his lap so she could face him. He ran his thumb softly along her warm cheek.

“I missed you too, y/n. I–” Drew laughed, “I was already planning to visit you next week when Tom called me.”

“Drew I’m sorry I—” Y/n began, but was cut off when Drew ran his thumb along her bottom lip.

“I just wish you would’ve told me.” Drew said gently, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“I didn’t want to be a burden, Drew.” Y/n whispered. Drew sighed, dropping his hand to grab onto her own.

“Darling, I would gladly drop everything if you needed me. You never have to worry about that.” Drew said, soothing her hand. She looked up at him, the soft smile on his face and the sincere tone of his voice, and knew that he was being genuine. All of that worrying about how he would react melted away, replaced with the comfort Drew’s presence gave.

“Thank you, Drew. I’m sorry for not talking to you.” Y/n said, wrapping her arms around Drew. He hugged her tighter, tucking his face into her neck. His warm breath and stubble tickled, causing her to giggle in his grasp.

“What’s so funny?” Drew said teasingly, rubbing his chin against her jawline, causing her to laugh harder and fall onto her back. Drew propped himself onto his forearms, grinning down at her. She reached up, pushing his messy hair back.

“I love you, Drew.” Y/n smiled, looking up at Drew’s wide smile and crinkled, blue eyes. He leaned down, kissing her softly, the soft taste of mint lingering on his tongue.

“I love you.” He whispered, running his hands along her side as he pressed a line of kisses along her jaw. Here, wrapped in Drew’s arms, she was home.

[littelovelunette]

cw: angst, sad breakup, anger issues, possible trauma, heavy drinking and smoking, nsfw, strap on, sevika's happy trail, sevika's bush, drunk sex

Switch! Sevika x fem! reader

Issues

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

sevika and you were broken up, it's been months since that. but it didn't end well mainly because sevika had anger issues so bad that she'd break things around the house when the slightest inconvenience happened and that scared you so much.

it wasn't normal to be scared of the person you love the most and you knew that, but when you tried to approach her with that conversation, it probably wasn't the best timing for her.

she was stressed with her work as it was and you trying to confront her about her issues was the cherry on top.

"you're soft. you rely on others to fight your battles, and you'll always be vulnerable because of it," sevika snapped.

her words left you feeling like a burden and feeling... not good enough. That's when you left.

you didn't come back, not even to get your belongings. you had taken your most essential items with yourself. you didn't intend on coming back because it just hurt so much to even recall all the things she said to you despite probably being out of anger.

the pain held you back and the simple thought she'd take her anger out on you as if you were disposable made you repulsed.

it's been a year since that, you miss her so damn much and have been praying for her to come back ever since the breakup. you caress your own hair sometimes and imagine it's her, it's been hard being so damn lonely in a place like zaun. today you felt worse particularly and didn't exactly understand why, so to take some steam off you decided to go to last drop.

you knew, deep down, it was probably foolish. she hadn’t changed in the year that had passed. her anger, that terrifying storm inside her, was still there. but the memory of the good times, the moments where her hard exterior cracked to reveal a glimpse of something softer, kept the embers of hope flickering.

maybe a drink, or two, would be enough to numb down whatever demons were battling within your brain, but you weren't so sure.

you look around and sigh, all the times sevika had been here gambling flashed through your mind, remembering the way you'd sit on her lap as she played poker with the henchmen. the way her strong arm would hold you in place on her muscular thighs. those thighs that had been wrapped around your head, sinful moans and grunts coming from her as you— okay, that's enough.

you sat down at the bar, ordering a shot. your eyes were dark and had eye bags underneath them. it'd only gotten harder to sleep without sevika by your side to hold you and tell you that it'd be okay and you were safe.

just thinking of that was enough to bring tears to your eyes. hurtful words that had slipped through those beautiful dark lips had drilled a hole in your heart. now you were desperate for some comfort to put a bandaid on that wound even if it wouldn't be much of a help in the long run.

what better then to just get wasted, numbed out and alcohol intoxicated? you downed the shot.

just then, you thought you saw sevika and your eyes narrowed.

was it really her?

you got off your seat and walked upto where you had caught a glimpse of her in your peripheral vision and sure enough, it was sevika. looked like she had won quite a few poker games, and had drunk quite a lot of alcohol.

"s-sevika," the name that now felt foreign on your lips made her snap out of her daze and look at you with her bloodshot eyes, she looked unwell to put it simply.

however, sevika didn't seem any close to stopping her drinking and smoking tonight so you had to pry away the cigarette from her hand making her grunt a little. her movements were so slumped due to the alcohol that her reflexes were slow. she reached to grab it back, but instead of grabbing the cigarette that you held up and away, she grabbed onto one of your breasts.

just then, very drunkenly, sevika gave you one of her signature shit-eating grins. oh, if you could just wipe that smirk off her face, you'd feel so much better but deciding to be the bigger and more sober person between the both of you, you helped her up using all the strength in your body.

“cmon, up you go…” you had to groan as you helped sevika out of her seat and onto the road out of last drop. you started walking with her to her place, she needed to get some rest and sleep instead of getting so damn wasted.

you had no idea why you were so worried about her, but you just… cared.

“you look like a raccoon,” sevika slurred, “like a very beautiful, sexy raccoon.”

“shut up,” you mumbled shaking your head at her drunken slurring but sevika didn't stop there.

“i hate staying away from you it's, like, chipping away at me and i don't know why it hurts,” sevika slurred, her voice wavering a little, “i need you more than i realised, doll, please come back,” sevika pleaded making your stomach churn a little. your heart was now pounding.

you helped her inside, closing the door with your leg and sighing heavily once she sat down at the edge of her bed.

“please don't leave,” sevika held onto your waist, bringing you closer between her legs.

“sev… we're not together… we can't do this,” you said and tried to get away from her but the older woman wouldn't let go of your wrists.

“just let me…” sevika leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours, her lips warm against your cold ones.

her tongue swiped against your bottom lip quietly begging for the year of loneliness you both had suffered because of her anger outbursts and you got a little overwhelmed.

regardless, you opened your mouth letting sevika in as she kissed you deeper, bringing you close with her flesh hand on your waist. however sevika didn't dare touch you with her mech hand, scared she's gonna hurt you in anyway.

as you both continued kissing, sevika pulled you on her lap, making you grind your clothed pussy against the rough material of her pants. "need you so bad," sevika slurred on.

it was hard to get her so drunk so you wondered how much she had drunk, sevika's hands desperately palmed at your clothed ass and you couldn't help giggle at that.

gently, you pushed her down to lay down on the bed and got off her lap, helping her take her top off. underneath was her muscular frame in her dark sports bra which quickly came off too, you trailed kisses on her neck and collarbone, "my love, my sevika..."

you leaned down and sucked on her nipples, sevika moaned loudly as she grabbed the bedsheets with her mech hand as her flesh hand tangled in your hair.

"baby, please," she whispered shakily and you couldn't but giggle, biting her nipple and leaving a hickey on her breasts.

"so beautiful..." you whispered as you slowly pulled her pants down, revealing her happy trail and sharp v line leading into her boxers. grabbing the waistband of her boxers with your teeth you pulled them down too.

"so pretty..." you mumbled before slowly leaning in and licking a bold stripe up her pussy.

you continued licking and sucking on sevika's pussy lovingly as you felt sevika's hand slowly wrapping in your hair, pushing your face in deeper.

“mmph… daddy,” you mumbled softly as you continued slurping on sevika's pussy, your nose nudging against sevika's swollen clitoris making her gasp and throw her head back.

“you like it when I do this?” you sucked on her clitoris, the swollen numb twitching in her mouth as her tongue pressed and teased it.

sevika squeezed her eyes shut as she bit down on her lower lip, trying to contain her moans of immense pleasure but failed.

you backed a bit to proceed to finger the older woman who gasped at the sudden intrusion, you put two fingers inside, thrusting at a slow pace at start, “cum for me, daddy,” you whispered making sevika clenched around your invading digits.

“c-cu-cumming…” sevika whimpered as her muscular thighs shook in pleasure, cumming on your mouth.

you grinned at her before pulling back and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, "tastes so well, baby..."

sevika sat up, before grabbing your body and slamming your body flat onto the bed, "you're mine," she growled.

sevika undressed you, leaving you completely bare.

sevika got up, putting on one of her hugest strap ons, fixing the harness on her body before she grabbed your waist in a bruising grip.

"spread your legs, lovely," she smirked down at you, rubbing your clit with her thumb. as you complied, sevika lined the toy against your hole.

"im putting it in," sevika warned and rammed all of the toy in at one go making you gasp and grab at the sheets.

"s-so much," you stuttered as sevika started roughly thrusting in, grabbing one leg and tossing it over her shoulder. she traced her mech fingers on your stomach giving you goosebumps, pressing the metal against your clit making your hips jerk off the bed, "daddy, please!"

"daddy please what?"

"please..."

sevika leaned in closer, grabbing your mouth open and spitting in it before she continued thrusting in hard, the tip of the dildo pumping in your clenching hole and hitting all the right spots making you see stars.

"swallow." sevika ordered and you immediately obliged.

the tip of the dildo continued ramming against your cervix, making your back arch.

tears started to form at your eyes making sevika grin, "my baby is so gorgeous," she held both your hands and continued thrusting.

the room filled with loud slapping sounds and the bed creaking in protest underneath us gave me a sense of worry whether it'd give away or not.

"daddy! im cumming, please, let me cum," you begged and sevika pulled your nipples her voice coming out in a low rasp.

"cum," she breathed.

and that was it, you screamed, your back leaving the bed as you fucked yourself onto the toy, cumming.

sevika huffed a laugh before giving you a brief kiss on the lips and pulling the toy out slowly.

exhaustion got ahold of the both you and she slumped down on the bed next to you, closing her eyes as well.

you woke up first the next day and looked at sevika who still had the strap on and it was covered in dry cum. you sighed, unstrapping it and taking it to the bathroom to clean up even if your legs felt like jelly.

you just had sex with your ex, now what...?

[riot-ghost]

Started a new train of thought following ghosts and things, and so here's my head cannon that the people of the Infinite Realms have a religious following and how one Daniel Fenton accidentally became the human priest.

-

"What the fuck do you mean I'm a priest?" Danny stared blankly at the Clockwork.

"I mean that you've become the priest of the Infinite Realms." Clockwork says. "By teaching your friends your following, they've decided to convert and follow with you. They believed what you're following is good and right, so there's human followers to our rituals and beliefs."

"I thought they were just respectful and curious! I don't know how to be a priest? Is there a way to revoke it?"

"Not really." Clockwork shrugs. "It seems fitting. Her Infinite lost her king with you, of course she'd name you her priest. I recommend opening a sanctuary,con holy ground. Gotham would fit."

"Holy shit, no, Clockwork, I'm not going to be a priest! I dont-"

"Damnit." Danny stood in front of the new building he'd just purchased.

It's easy to get it set up for outside use, but following the ways of Infinite, making it sacred ground, that was much harder. He spends weeks purifying the pollution and smog, and even longer doing the required rituals and cleansings.

He doesn't hold masses. He holds classes, every day at seven, to teach about the ghosts and Ancients. He cooks dinner for everyone who comes, and everyone is welcome. He's even told everyone they're welcome to just come and take the food and leave.

Gothamites come to find that if the city has been gassed, the sanctuary has clean air. It remains unharmed by the villains, all the way until one murderous clown declares religious exemption while getting arrested.

It's a very public ordeal and Danny hosts a press conference, three police officers and Batman are present. Joker is in cuffs. "I tell anyone that everyone is welcome to our religion. And if the Joker wishes to be, he will be. Is this what you want?" Danny asks, staring down the murderous clown.

"Oh, yes!" The Clown grins back. Danny pulls a gun, pressing it to the side of his head. Everyone is on edge, and Batman's reaching for his belt.

"For the two thousand, eight-hundred and ninty-three lives you have taken, for the nine-hundred and seventy-four children you have brutally killed. The Infinite Realm does not take kindly to murderers, to terrorist." Danny speaks, unwavering. "For your crimes against the Infinite Realms, for your crimes against humanity, and for all those burdened fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, for everyone you have taken, for those you have left behind, you shall face judgement upon the high council of the Infinite Realms upon open court. While there, you shall follow every law, to the letter of the law, or you shall face immediate denial to a trial. You will not be given a lawyer. You will not be given a clean death." Danny lowers his gun, pulling out a knife. He kneels, and rips the air behind the Joker a illuminated green portal is torn.

"From personal experience, there's things much worse than death that you can face. From personal opinion, I hope you face every fucking one before you're torn apart." Danny pushes Joker through the portal, and it closes. He mutters a prayer, standing tall. He retakes his position at the podium.

"For anyone who has faced the Joker, who have had people taken from them, had their own lives taken from them, who have so much as passed him on the street, come to the Realms' Sanctuary on North Blvd. 7308. Join the trial to have him purged, have him face the righteous punishment for the horrendous crimes he has commit." Danny bows.

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Arcane or any other kind of media mentioned or linked.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences. (If you want to know the full idea I had then it's in the first chapter)

Note: Didn't mention in the first chapter, but I'm going to assume Vi was 11 and Powder was 6 in the opening scene since I don't think it has been confirmed.

(Edit: Forgot to add something. I'm considering letting Reader have a romance with Timebomb, but IDK. Not fully decided yet.)

Vander Pov

Five years.

Five years since two little girls lost their parents on that bridge and since I became a father of two. Didn't think I would take in two more kids from the streets after them, but then again I never thought I would be a father. The two new additions were boys, all together they became a loyal little crew of four Undercity kids. Speaking of.

"You sure this this one's gonna work Pow Pow? The last one almost gave me a concussion.", Vi asks as Powder works on another one of her latest inventions. Supposed to be some kind of smoke bomb.

Powder puffs her cheeks a little with a pout.

"I said I was sorry and I told you it was a test. I didn't mean for it to have a delay on it. The switch went off later than I planned.", she says grumpily, but a hint of guilt in there.

"Of course not. That's just because you're a jinx.", Mylo says teasingly which makes Vi sock him in the arm. Making Claggor chuckle a little. Deserved, honestly.

"It's fine. I just don't want you blowing yourself up."

I smile as I set down drinks for them, not alcohol of course, before turning to Powder.

"Just make sure you don't run any tests in here. Unless you all want to spend the day cleaning paint off bar.", I say before taking a good look at my troop of trouble makers.

Claggor, big and strong, but not dumb. Smarter and wiser than others actually. A kind soul..... unless you're looking for a fight. Kid can take hits and hit you back harder.

Mylo, not the biggest nor the baddest, but surprisingly cunning if you didn't know him before hand. Always putting up a cocky facade, but he does care. Though he has a problem with making his face enticing to punch.

Powder, youngest of them all has a knack for mechanics and inventing. A tinkerer through and through, like Benzo's boy, Ekko. So much potential in a little bundle of joy. She'll go far in life. As long as she doesn't blow herself up first.

Vi, the oldest, the protector and the leader of the four. Always wanting to put herself in front of all the danger for her family. Take on all the burden, like the stubborn girl she is. Especially for her sister. Most likely to kick a door down before checking if it's unlocked.

Together we were a family. Honestly this would have been enough for me, but to think I'd get my brother back too.

"I'm sure it will go well this time. I took a look at the mechanism, she only needs to make a few adjustments.", Silco says, sitting next to Powder while working on his notes and occasionally glancing at Powder's work.

Silco, my brother in every way but blood. I didn't think I'd ever be able to rekindle our bond from before. He read my letter. Apparently he stayed in hiding for a few years to think about all that happened and himself. I still remember when he came back, around the time I took in Mylo and Claggor, the feeling I had felt when he just came walking in one day like it was any other regular day.

We talked about our mistakes and regrets. We reminisced on the old days when we were young and dumb, and when Felecia was still alive. It took time, still is, but right now? We're in a good place now. Forgave each other and moving forward to help Zuan. He and Powder seem to get along well, which is good. Silco was always the smarts between the two of us; always had his nose in his notes or a book.

I couldn't help but smile when looking at the scene. The bar felt more alive nowadays, the kids I took in talking and bickering but safe, and the man who is like a brother to me is back. All in The Last Drop where it's safe. All we need is Benzo and his boy, Ekko, here and we'll have the whole party together.

Everything i-

Dad?

Damn. That damn voice again. Been bugging me ever since the bridge. Like a memory, but from talks I've never had with someone before.

SoOoo, QUiCk qUestIOn. wHo get's THE bAr wHeN YoU reTiRe? hM?

Who is that? I can barely make it out to be a kid's, but I never heard any kid like that. Yet, it feels like I'm supposed to know. It brings out that same feeling in my chest that I have for my kids.

"Vander?"

I look back up to Silco, who is looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything alright? You froze there for a second."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm fine, nothings wrong. Just.... something bugging my head for awhile."

He looks at me with some worry, but drops it after Powder grabs his attention. Probably something about her tinkering.

I go to clean a few glasses as I ponder on the voice again.

'Who is that?'

Reader Pov

"Get back here you little shit!"

I hear and ignore the shouts as I keep running. I managed to eavesdrop on a deal. Heard them talk about there drop off point for payment. The people came earlier than I expected for the money and I got caught in the act. Now I'm running through the streets with five people on my trail. Not my fault everyone ignores kids when discussing stuff.

I weave through alley ways and crowds in the streets with a mask and hood. After years of growing up in it, it's only natural that it's pretty easy to navigate. Especially as a kid; there's lots of little crevices and old pipe lines to slip into. Though these people are pretty persistent, but I can't really blame them. Seems like whatever job they did paid a lot based on the weight of the bag, though I am a kid so I could be wrong.

I take a quick look back to see that the crowd built me a good bit of distance before quickly ducking into another alley. I take many turns before getting onto another crowded street and build some distance before I start blending into the crowd. I see one of them pop out from the alley, but it's already too late. I'm good as gone now.

I steady my breathing as I begin to backtrack from where I ran from. They'll probably stay in this area and wait for me or some kid with a bag to come out, meanwhile my home is on the nowhere near here.

Home.

'I miss home.'

I thought it would be easier than this honestly. Not the living part, that's easy. Zuan isn't some drug filled city like before where everyone is trying to be on top. This like a playground compared to what it turned into. People still have a sense of community and gangs aren't taking over, or at least not completely.

Zuan went from being a dog town to a pit full of chickens and snakes. No more dogs ready to bark and bite for their own, ready to gather together and fight back when backed too far into a corner by the rich. Just a bunch of snakes chasing to be on top and taking out anyone who get's in their way. A bunch of snakes and fakes being led on by even bigger fakes and snakes; couldn't lead from the front or do their own dirty work.

What's hard is staying away from everyone, but it's worth it. To see them happy and together again. It'll really show it's worth in a few years. When everyone can come together and that bridge doesn't need to divide us anymore. Where markets can be opened and communities can intertwine with one another.

Plus, it's good to see Vander and Silco talking again. Even with everything that's happened last time; Silco grew on me. I never thought he would, but like Powder, he became another father figure to me. He didn't like to show it, but I knew he cared.

It took awhile to find him after I got Vander's letter from the mines, but after a lot of eavesdropping and investigating I tracked him down to some old bunker. Slipped inside when there was an opening and left the letter. Just had to hope that was enough to change his mind, and luckily it was.

Without Silco meeting Singed, Shimmer doesn't exist, and hopefully it stays that way for good. Though I still keep an eye out for it. Either way it's one problem dealt with, now onto the bigger one. Hextech.

That one damn job ruined everything, even when I tried preventing it from happening or going wrong. Things still went to shit. Hextech, always advertised as a sign of progress and innovation for everyone was only made for the wealthy. While Piltover thrived, Zuan was left in the dust and forgotten. It only stirred the pot and upped the heat. It just made people more frustrated, hateful, and more open to an aggressive stand against Piltover.

Watching all of this play out was one thing, but living in it? Watching as your very own home was slowly killing itself with no help from it's so called leaders? It was horrible. So many people I knew were killed, corrupted or became another addict hooked on Shimmer. Meanwhile the council and enforcers just let it happen. They could have at least gained control before it grew too big, it was obvious what was beginning to fester, but they didn't. Too busy enjoying the benefits of Hextech and luxury.

'Fuck Hextech.'

My mind wanders and procrastinates on possible dangers and outcomes as I make my way home. Before I know it I'm already across the Undercity, deep into the lanes where it reaches under the river above. Dark, smog everywhere and mostly filled with lowlife crooks and junkies, but less likely to run into the family. Here I can stay hidden.

I find my way home safely in an abandoned building. Parts of it crumbled away, but I managed to make a home for myself in one of the rooms on the upper floors. It was enough.

"Home, sweet home.", I say as I close the door behind me and lock it. I toss the bag aside to count later before flopping myself down on my makeshift bed. Not comfy, but better than nothing. I turn over and stare at the ceiling as I contemplate the future.

"I need to stop Hextech no matter what. One job. Get in, take the crystals, and get out before the crew get's there. Just gotta wait for Jayce to get here. Then it'll all be okay.", I say as begin to drift off into much needed sleep.

Powder Pov

"Stupid, Mylo. What does he know?", while fiddling with one of the toys Vander got for me. Looking out over the buildings buildings of Zuan and the few stars I can see in the night.

PoWDEr

I wheel my head around looking for the source of the unknown voice.

"Hello?", I call out but receive no response.

Y'kNoW, YOu'Re SmArTer tHaN yOu tHiNk yOu'Re RiGhT?

I hear it again, so I stand up and search my surroundings.

"W-Who's there!?", I say, trying to be as brave as Vi. I don't think I'm doing that good.

PoWder, pLEasE LisTen tO Me cAUse I mEAN it. yOU'rE nOt a jiNx. YOu'Re So mUcH MoRe tHaN yOu ThInK yOu ArE, yOU jUsT DoN't sEe iT yEt.

I hear the weird voice again. I realize it's not from someone but from my head, like when I remember a conversation, but much louder. I suddenly feel a sharp headache.

"W-What's happening?" I ask not knowing what's going on.

JinX oR No JiNx. I wiLl AlWaYs bE hERe PoWder. I pROmiSe. I wOn'T aBaNdOn YoU.

Why did that voice sound familiar? Why was it comforting?

"Who are you?"

"Powder!"

I lift my head and see Vi looking relieved, probably has been looking for me.

"There you are I was looking around for you. C'mon it's time for bed.", she says, but I stay still and wait for my headache to die down before taking a breather. I see Vi walk towards me before kneeling down and putting a hand on my head.

"Hey, is everything okay Pow Pow? What's wrong?", Vi asks with concern in her eyes and voice, but I don't know how to respond.

'I don't even know what that was.'

"....Yeah, I-I think so. Just a little headache.", I say, not wanting to worry her over was I heard. Remembered? I don't know.

"Are you sure?"

I do take a second to consider telling her the truth but.....

I wiLl AlWaYs bE hERe PoWder. I pROmiSe.

"Yup. It's fine. I think I'm tired from working on my stuff all day.", I say, trying my best to sound casual. She looks hesitant for second before nodding.

"Alright. Let's go to bed.", She says as she stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder and we head back inside.

As we walk to our room I can't help but think about that voice.

'Why do I remember it? Vi never said that, not Claggor, not Ekko either and definitely not Mylo. So, who is it?'

As I lay in bed and drift off to sleep I can't help but still feel that pull to that voice.

'Why can't I remember? And, why does that make me sad?'

3rd Person

As Powder goes to bed for the night with a head filled with questions about an unfamiliar, yet nostalgic voice. She doesn't know she is not the only one.

A voice being remembered by multiple people, but not able to be recognized by any. It only brings more questions and a feeling of longing and guilt for this voice. Unknowingly something darker lurks underneath all of it. Waiting.

Note: Might either do a little time skip next and work on a little more development for events and the reader, or just do a big time skip next chapter. IDK, I'll figure it out. I just didn't want there to be and immediate jump in time and at least have some kind of development on how things have changed and what reader is doing, and have been doing.

[razorblade180]

A Quiet Home

Jaune:*walks in* Hey, I’m back.

Weiss:*writing*….

Jaune:I umm, got some food. Saph said she always makes too much so-

Weiss:You should’ve turned it down. Your nephew is a growing boy.

Jaune:She wouldn’t have offered if she couldn’t help. How’s rent looking?

Weiss:Despite my colossal fuck up on the mission, it’s covered.

Jaune:Hey, what’s important is-

Weiss:Jaune, don’t patronize me. I screwed up, got my leg hurt, got the client hurt, and lost the target. *puts pen down* Thankfully I found another high paying one. It’s a three weeks long and I’m-

Jaune:Actually…I put in a request to take that mission too. Client said he’ll think it over.

Weiss:*turns around* Excuse me? You’re taking my job line ups? You went in the last two missions. It’s my turn to-

Jaune:You need a break.

Weiss:Tsk, not this shit again. I just had a break!

Jaune:Crunching bill numbers is not a break. Weiss, your head isn’t in the game, and that’s fine. After all, your mom…

Weiss: “My mom” nothing we aren’t talking about this. There’s nothing to talk about. She lived drunk and died drunk. Predictable ending.

Jaune:Weiss-

Weiss:Give me space! And cancel your request while you’re at it. You’re in no condition to go on another assignment so quickly.

Jaune:…I’m not letting you go on that mission.

Weiss:Sorry, you’re not letting me? *stands up* I don’t remember needing your approval.

Jaune:That’s not what I-

Weiss:No it was, or else you wouldn’t have applied for the same mission despite our agreement. I made one mistake and now it goes out the window?

Jaune:You’re angry.

Weiss:Of FUCKING course I’m angry! I’m trying to keep these lights on and not burden others while you’re bringing in leftovers and stopping my job!

Jaune:You’re not doing your job! You’re running away from your problems!

Weiss:Oh you’re one to talk! The only reason why you’re here is because moving back in with your folks would be too much to handle.

Jaune:I moved in with you because you needed a roommate! My girlfriend was cutoff and alone and I could help! All I’ve been doing is trying to help!

Weiss:I didn’t ask for your help! I was handling things just fine!

Jaune:You were struggling.

Weiss:AND I’M NOT NOW!? Does it make you feel a little better to say you tried. Can’t help but I want to fix things huh?

Jaune:That’s not fair.

Weiss:Oh now we want to be fair? After intentionally making my job harder? For someone who is “trying to help” it never really works out for you now does it!? Not for me not for P-

She immediately covered her mouth, scared and shocked from the venom that almost slipped past her lips; this carelessness was given back with a stare of contempt that ate at her.

Weiss:I-

Jaune:There was a never a second I thought you were broken, or needed to be fixed. Guess that was my fault. Looks like your father did a number on you after all.

Her blood went cold. Weiss’s cheeks began to burn red as her anger boiled over.

Weiss:And yours never cared to do a swing to begin with.

Jaune:Speaking from experience?

Weiss:Get. Out.

Jaune:….

Weiss:I SAID GET OUT! I DON’T NEED THIS FROM YOU! I DON’T NEED YOU!

Jaune:…Good, cause you don’t have me. Sell my stuff for all I care.

He reaches in his pocket and throws his key at her. Weiss catches on reflex before hearing a thunderous boom as Jaune slams the door on the way out that shakes the room and cause a picture to shatter. The room is deathly silent as Weiss stares at the door.

Weiss:F-FINE! RUN BACK TO YOUR FAMILY!

………..

Not knowing what to do, Weiss simply grabbed her broom to clean up the mess Jaune made. Glass was half hazardly swept aside as she picked up a broken frame holding a photo of her laughing with Jaune, their face covered with cake from their house party with a banner overhead.

“A year of memories and miracles”

Weiss’s hand began to tremble until the picture slipped from her fingers. A giant pit filled her stomach and threatened to gag her as her knees fell to floor and her hands covered a ghastly wail. Finally, her breath was robbed and tears broke through shaking eyes filled with dread over the reality that was flooding in. The miracles were gone, and the memories, now bittersweet.

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [iv]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara finally finds the courage to open up and seek help.

word count: 4610

warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, angst

a/n: guys I lied this is NOT the last part. I realized how much I have to write lol but the angst is over, the next part should be just fluff and tara's recovery. this is the longest I wrote so far lol so I hope its not too draggy

part [i] | part [ii] | part [iii] | part [v]

Tara felt her phone buzz multiple times in a minute. It took her a moment to gain the courage and look at her notifications. 5 missed calls and missed texts from Amber herself. She felt a shiver run down her spine, not sure if it was from the chilly breeze or her fear of Amber coming to get her. Her fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond or power off the phone and ignore the reality of her situation.

Amber

Tara, where are you?

I told you to meet me behind the bleachers.

You just can’t listen, can you??? 

(Missed call from Amber)

Answer your damn phone.

Seriously? Was this about that day? I barely touched you, it was a joke. Don’t be so dramatic

You know I only do these things because you push me. If you didn’t act like this, I wouldn’t have to.

Just get here.Now. 

Tara felt her chest tighten after reading the texts, afraid of what could happen to her, her consequences. “You deserved it anyways,” was what Amber would say to her after she got hurt. At first, Tara had fought against those words, clinging to the belief that she was worth more, that she wasn’t the problem. But over time, the constant barrage of blame and cutting remarks chipped away at her resolve. Amber’s voice had become a whisper in her mind, louder than her own, until one day Tara caught herself nodding in agreement. Maybe she did deserve it. Maybe everything that happened was her fault.

Her breathing grew shallow as the weight of the messages and memories bore down on her. Her phone slipped from her trembling hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud, but she barely noticed. Her chest heaved as panic clawed its way through her, each breath feeling harder than the last. Her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the cruel echoes of Amber’s voice in her head. She clutched her knees, trying to ground herself, but her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. What if she’s right? What if I deserve everything coming my way? The questions suffocated her, and she felt like she was drowning in her own mind, unable to surface.

Her breath hitched when a familiar face entered her blurry field of vision, concern etched deeply in your furrowed brows. You raised a hand slowly, your movements deliberate and gentle, pausing as if asking for silent permission. When she gave a weak, trembling nod, you knelt down and rested your hand over hers, the warmth grounding her in the chaos of her spiraling thoughts. Your voice followed, soft and steady, cutting through the haze as you spoke words of comfort and reassurance.

“Tara, hey. Look at me. I’m here, okay? You’re safe now. Take a deep breath with me. Let’s do it together—breathe in…and out. Nice and slow. Just like that.” Tara listened to your instructions, slowly gaining back her bearings before tearing up again, overwhelmed by her feelings.

“I’m sorry—I’m such a burden—“ “Hey, I want none of that right now, okay? You’re not alone in this. Whatever’s happening, we’ll handle it together. You’re stronger than this—always have been. It will pass, I promise.” 

It took Tara a while to piece together what happened and where she was. She just had a panic attack. You were there. The softness of your bed beneath her and the faint scent of your room finally grounded her. She blinked a few times, her gaze settling on the familiar surroundings, and the realization hit—she was safe.

You sat beside her, your voice calm as you spoke. “I texted Chad and Mindy to come over,” you said gently. “I thought having some company might help. They’re on their way now.”

Tara nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. The thought of familiar faces brought a small flicker of relief amidst the storm swirling inside her.

-

As soon as the doorbell rang, you hurried to open it. Mindy wasted no time, wrapping you in a tight hug before you could say a word. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a silent way of saying, We’re here for you. The moment she stepped back, Chad pulled you into his own firm hug, his hand patting your back in solidarity. Their presence immediately lightened the air, filling the space with a sense of comfort and support.

“We won, by the way. There was a party after, but it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Mindy commented, slightly smug about how she scored the winning goal. You’ve never doubted her once; you knew she could do it. 

If Tara was being honest, she was afraid to meet the twins—afraid that she would be posed as the bad friend that avoided them, that she was weak and fragile. The thought of their disappointment, the way they might look at her with concern or pity, sent a wave of anxiety through her. It felt easier to stay away, to hide, than to face the questions and the judgments she imagined they’d have.

Tara took a deep breath, steeling herself as Mindy and Chad walked into the room. The moment Mindy stepped forward, she pulled Tara into a tight, almost desperate hug. Tara froze for a second, then allowed herself to melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and safety that came with it. Mindy’s voice was soft but firm when she pulled away.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tara. We’re here,” she said, her tone full of concern.

Chad, a few steps behind, offered a reassuring smile before pulling her into his own hug, his hand gently patting her back. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. Tara nodded, the overwhelming weight of her anxiety not quite lifting, but at least softened by the comfort of their presence.

As they settled around her, Tara felt an unexpected wave of guilt. If she were being honest, she was afraid of meeting them again—afraid that they would see her as the bad friend who had avoided them, that they would view her as weak and fragile. The thought of disappointing them, of facing their concern or pity, made her stomach turn. It felt easier to stay hidden, to avoid the inevitable questions they would ask about where she had been, why she’d pulled away. But now, as she sat between them, she realized that the fear of their judgment was nothing compared to the warmth of their unwavering support.

Tara took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she finally began to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of the words she’d kept locked inside for so long. She glanced at Mindy and Chad, their faces filled with concern and unwavering support, and it made her feel a little less alone. She told everyone in the room how she started dating Amber; and how things went downhill. By the time Tara ended, she was sobbing uncontrollably, your arms wrapped around her to calm her down. She looked at Mindy and Chad, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve come to you sooner.” Tara said tears still streaming down her face, but her voice stronger than before.

Mindy’s expression softened as Tara spoke, her eyes filled with both sadness and empathy. “Tara, you don’t deserve any of that,” Mindy said, her voice gentle but firm.

“None of it was your fault. Amber had no right to treat you that way, no matter what she said,” Mindy said, her words steady and filled with conviction. “You’re not broken, you’re strong. You’re still here, and you’re fighting. That’s what matters.” Mindy reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

Chad nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Mindy’s right. You don’t have to face it alone, you have us.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Tara, you should think about reporting this. What happened to you wasn’t just a mistake—it was abuse. And abuse needs to be taken seriously.”

“I know it’s scary, and I know you’re probably thinking about what Amber might do or say, but we’re here for you, every step of the way. Reporting this to the police isn’t just about getting her in trouble—it’s about protecting yourself and making sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else. You’re not alone in this. We’ll be with you, no matter what you decide.” You added, gently rubbing your hand along her arms, making her relaxed.

Tara sat in silence for a moment, her mind racing with the idea of taking that step. She had never imagined herself going to the police, but now, with Mindy, Chad, and you by her side, it didn’t feel quite as impossible. It was terrifying, but maybe it was the first step toward finally finding peace.

-

A few days later, Tara found herself sitting in a quiet room at the local police station, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at the paper in front of her. She had made the decision—she was reporting the abuse. The officer sitting across from her was kind, patient, but Tara could still feel the weight of every word she spoke. She told them everything. About Amber’s manipulation, the slaps, the pushing, the hurtful words. She didn’t leave anything out, though every sentence felt like it ripped open a wound she’d tried to bury for so long. She even included photos of her bruises she would take pictures of throughout the relationship. The officer appreciated it, it adds more evidence even when there’s a big yellowish blotch on her face that didn’t need any more explaining.

When the officer assured her that her report would be taken seriously, Tara couldn’t help but feel a tiny flicker of relief, even though fear still lingered in her chest. She had done the right thing. She hoped. But as Tara walked out of the station, the reality of her decision began to settle in. She had taken a step that could never be undone, and she knew Amber would eventually find out.

And it didn’t take long.

It was the following afternoon when Tara received a call from an unknown number. Her stomach dropped, the familiar anxiety creeping back into her veins as she hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?” Tara’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tara,” came Amber’s voice, cold and filled with venom. “I know what you did.”

Tara’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took a step back, as if she could escape the phone call that had already settled deep into her chest.

“You went to the police, didn’t you? You really think you can get away from me that easily? Blocking my number didn’t do anything, did it?” Amber’s tone was almost mocking, but beneath it was a layer of pure rage. “You’re nothing without me, Tara. Do you really think they’ll believe you? Do you really think I would hurt you? You’re a liar.”

Tara’s grip on the phone tightened, her voice shaking with fear but laced with a newfound resolve. “I’m not lying, Amber. I’m done. You don’t control me anymore.” Amber’s laughter came through the phone, sharp and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” And then the line went dead.

Tara stood there, the cold air biting at her skin, her heart racing in her chest; feeling the fear creep back in, until you called her downstairs for dinner. Ever since you found her during the finals, you managed to convince Tara to stay over at yours for awhile, considering she would’ve been alone at home and you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.

You went up to the guest bedroom Tara was staying in to see her staring at her phone, slightly taken aback. You could sense her breathing getting shallower and sharper, realizing that she was having an asthma attack and quickly took her inhaler that was placed on the drawers.

She gasped again, but her breath wouldn’t come. Panic began to set in, her heart rate quickening, and she coughed uncontrollably, the sound rough and wet in her chest. The tightness in her throat made it harder to exhale, a wheeze escaping as she forced the air out. It felt as though the very act of breathing had turned into a struggle, and the more she tried, the harder it became. Your hand was already passing the inhaler to her trembling fingers. Tara’s breath hitched, struggling to move as her hands shook, but you placed your hand over hers, steadying it.

"Here, just... take a slow breath in. You can do it," you encouraged, your voice steady as you helped her press the inhaler to her lips. Tara obeyed, inhaling shakily, and within moments, she felt the familiar cooling sensation spread through her chest. The tightness loosened just a little, and she gasped for air, the wheezing beginning to subside.

“Good. Just like that,” you whispered, your hand resting on her shoulder, grounding her. Slowly, Tara's breathing steadied, each inhale coming a little easier than the last, the panic beginning to melt away as the medicine took effect. You stayed by her side, never letting go, just silently offering the comfort she desperately needed.

-

You were starting to get used to the sight of Tara struggling with both panic and asthma attacks throughout her stay at your home. It was a constant ebb and flow, moments where she seemed like she was almost back to herself, only for the anxiety or her breathing to hit her again without warning. At first, it was overwhelming—watching her gasping for air, feeling helpless as she trembled and shook—but over time, you learned how to respond.

You kept her inhaler close, always within reach. You knew the signs now, the way her chest would tighten, the shallow breaths, the subtle shift in her expression that meant her panic was escalating. You knew how to talk her down, how to ground her when the anxiety became too much, and how to steady her when she couldn’t catch her breath. The routine of it had become familiar: gently helping her breathe in through the inhaler, guiding her hands to her chest to ground her, reassuring her with calm words that she wasn’t alone.

But each time it happened, it still broke your heart. You could see the fear in her eyes, the fear of not knowing if she would get through it, the lingering dread that she wasn’t safe. You never left her side during those moments. No matter how many times it happened, you were there—watching, waiting, helping her through it until she found her breath again.

And while it was exhausting, both for her and for you, there was a certain quiet comfort in knowing you could help. Tara was stronger than she gave herself credit for, and you were proud of her every time she pushed through, even when it seemed like too much. With each attack, she seemed to hold onto that strength a little longer, even when she didn't see it herself.

-

After a few weeks of rest and recovery, Tara made the decision to go back to school. It wasn’t easy—every step toward the building felt like it weighed a ton, and her heart would race at the thought of seeing people again, of facing the memories that lurked in every hallway. But she couldn’t hide forever, and despite the anxiety swirling in her chest, Tara knew it was time to take that first step. The news spread like wildfire rippling both in Woodsboro and Blackmore. Everyone seemed to have their own version of the story, but the narrative was clear: Tara and Amber’s relationship was no longer just a private matter—it had become public, and with it, a storm of judgment.

Amber wasted no time in twisting the truth, claiming that Tara had fabricated everything. She told anyone who would listen that Tara was just seeking attention, painting herself as the victim of a lie. Amber played the part of the heartbroken, misunderstood girlfriend, while Tara was cast as the unreliable, dramatic ex who couldn’t handle their breakup. The accusations were swift, harsh, and relentless.

But amidst the gossip, there were small moments of clarity. She still had people who believed her—people like Mindy and Chad, who stood by her side without question. And you. You were her anchor. Every time the rumors swirled, you were there, offering her a steady presence, a reminder that her truth mattered, no matter what anyone else said. The world around her might have been filled with noise, but with your support, Tara began to find her voice again. Even if it took time, even if it was hard, she wasn’t going to let Amber’s lies define her.

The night before, she barely slept, tossing and turning in her bed, replaying the worst-case scenarios in her mind. What if Amber showed up? What if people asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer? But when morning came, you were there to reassure her once more, helping her gather her things and offering quiet encouragement.

“Just take it one step at a time,” you told her, giving her a gentle smile. “You don’t have to face everything all at once. We’ll get through it together.”

As Tara walked through the school gates, she felt a mix of nervousness and determination. She had her inhaler in her pocket, just in case, and a deep breath to calm the jittery nerves that clung to her. There was no going back now, but with each step forward, she could feel the weight on her shoulders lifting just a little bit. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“Hey, Tara!” Serena, a classmate called out, her voice piercing through the crowded hallway. At the sound of her voice, you immediately tensed, a protective instinct kicking in. You weren’t sure if Serena was going to confront Tara, maybe join in the whispers and rumors that had been circulating. But as you glanced at Tara, you could see the hesitation in her expression. She was unsure what to expect from Serena now.

Without thinking, you gently pulled Tara closer, positioning yourself as a shield, ready for whatever was about to happen. Tara stiffened at first, but then she relaxed into you, seeking comfort in your presence. She wasn’t ready to face any more hostility or doubt—not from anyone.

Serena approached, her steps slow but determined. The usual confidence she carried was gone. Her face was softer, almost apologetic, and there was a sadness in her eyes that Tara hadn’t expected. She stopped just in front of you both, looking down at the ground before lifting her eyes to meet Tara’s.

“Tara,” she said quietly, avoiding your eyes. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve believed you from the start. Amber—she did the same thing to me.” Tara blinked, surprised. “You were with Amber too?” Serena nodded, her voice trembling.

You could feel Tara’s grip on your arm tighten, the weight of the moment sinking in. It was clear that this wasn’t just an apology—this was Serena reaching out to Tara, extending a hand to show her that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone who understood the pain.

 “She manipulated me, made me feel crazy, like I was the problem. I didn’t see it until I left her. I saw how she treated you and… I didn’t speak up. I’m sorry for that.” Tara stared at her, processing her words. “I didn’t know… I thought it was just me.”

“I know. I should’ve been there for you,” Serena said. “But I believe you, Tara. Amber’s abuse wasn’t your fault.” Tara’s shoulders slumped, relief and confusion mixing in her eyes. “Thank you. I.. I’m glad you’re saying this.”

Serena gave a soft nod. “I’m here for you, anytime. You’re not alone.”

As Serena walked away, Tara exhaled deeply, her grip on you loosening. The weight wasn’t gone, but knowing Serena understood made the burden a little lighter.

-

It’s been a few weeks since Tara had the courage to start attending school again, and while the halls still felt heavy, there was a noticeable shift in her. The whispers had faded to a dull murmur, and the judgmental stares were fewer, replaced with something a bit more tolerable—curiosity, or maybe even a touch of guilt from those who had doubted her.

Tara had slowly begun to rebuild herself, day by day. With Mindy, Chad, and even Serena’s unexpected support, she had started to find the strength to face the world again. But every step forward came with its own challenge. Some days were harder than others, and the scars from Amber’s abuse weren’t so easily erased. Yet, Tara was determined to keep moving forward, and even though she wasn’t sure what the future held, she knew she wasn’t as alone as she once believed.

There were still moments of fear, of panic, but each time she faced them, it was a little easier to breathe. With you by her side, offering quiet support, she was starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could reclaim her life.

Tara knew she had to go back to her house to retrieve a few things. Her mind raced with memories of Amber, of the chaos and control, but there were still some items left behind that she needs—it would be a mixture of both closure and necessity. The thought of stepping foot inside her old home made her stomach turn, but she knew she couldn’t leave everything behind forever. Tara had spent too long running, too long living in fear. It was time to take those final steps—gathering her things, locking the door behind her, and finally letting go of the past that still haunted her.

She wasn’t sure if she could face it alone, but she didn’t want to burden anyone. Still, the idea of returning to the house she once called home left her feeling vulnerable and anxious. She looked over at you, a soft vulnerability in her eyes, unsure of how to ask for help without seeming weak. “I... I need to go back to my house, just to get a few things. I don't think I can do it by myself."

You immediately reassured her, “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll go with you.” Tara let out a quiet breath of relief, her shoulders relaxing. “I didn’t want to ask, but I don’t think I can handle it by myself.”

“I’m here for you, always,” you said, offering a gentle smile. “We’ll go together, take whatever you need, and leave. You don’t have to face it alone.”

Tara gave a small nod, her nerves still present but now softened by your support. “Okay. Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you set out, ready to face the past together, step by step.

Several minutes later, you both arrived at Tara’s old house. The familiar sight of it made her pause, a knot tightening in her stomach. The house that once felt like home now felt like a prison—a place filled with too many memories she wasn’t ready to face. You could sense the vulnerability in Tara’s posture as she stepped into the house, the weight of the moment settling over her. You didn’t want to intrude on something so private, so important to her, but you also wanted to be there if she needed support.

“I’ll stay in the car,” you suggested softly, giving her space. “Take your time. I’m right here if you need me.”

Tara glanced back at you, her eyes filled with gratitude, though the fear was still there. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this, but... I’ll try.”

You gave her a reassuring nod as she stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. You remained in the car, your heart with her, knowing that no matter how long it took, you’d be here when she was ready to leave.

Just as she left the walkway, you saw a sketchy black car across the street. The engine was idle, and a chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You quickly glanced at the house, knowing Tara was inside. Your protective instinct kicked in. Without thinking, you got out of the car and headed toward the house, your pace quickening.

Inside, Tara was gathering a few of her things when she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She turned, her blood running cold when she saw Amber standing there, leaning against the doorway with that familiar, malicious smirk on her face.

“You didn’t really think you could get away, did you?” Amber’s voice was low and taunting. She stepped into the room, her eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. “I still have a key, remember?” She stepped forward, her fingers tracing the edge of the doorframe where she had forced Tara to give her the spare key long ago

Before she could react, you burst through the door, your body tense with fury. “Get away from her!” you shouted, stepping between them. Amber’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly sneered, taking a threatening step forward. But you didn’t give her the chance. In one swift motion, you grabbed her by the wrist, slamming her hard against the wall with a sickening thud. Amber gasped, her eyes wide with shock, but you weren’t done. Your fist shot out, connecting with her jaw in a brutal punch that made her head snap back, her body jerking from the force of it. You stomped on the leg that you injured a few weeks ago, making her groan in agony.

Tara gasped, her eyes wide, but the sight of Amber recoiling, clutching her cheek, was like a weight lifting off her chest. You didn’t wait for Amber to recover; you shoved her roughly back against the wall, your hand still gripping her wrist.

“Stay the hell away from her. I don’t care who you think you are,” you growled, your voice cold and deadly. Amber’s eyes flickered with fury, but she was too stunned to fight back properly. Tara stood frozen, watching, feeling a strange mix of fear and relief. Amber spat, her glare venomous. “This isn’t over,” she hissed, trying to regain her composure, but you tightened your grip and stepped closer, your gaze unflinching.

Amber’s breathing grew heavy, but she knew she was outmatched. With one last look of hatred, she wrenched herself away and stormed out of the house, limping while slamming the door behind her. As the house grew quiet again, Tara exhaled shakily, still trembling from the confrontation. You turned to her, your chest heaving, but you gave her a steady, comforting look. 

“She’s gone. Shit—I’m sorry, I knew I should’ve—“ Before you could complete your sentence, Tara rushed into your arms, wrapping her arms tightly around you. She buried her face into your chest, her body shaking, her breath uneven.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t apologize. I... I needed that.” Her words were muffled against you, but you could feel the tension leaving her as she clung to you. “I was so scared... but now... I don’t feel so alone.”

You held her tighter, your hands gently rubbing her back as you spoke softly, “You’re not alone, Tara. I’ll always be here. Always.”

Tara nodded, her grip loosening slightly but her face still pressed against you. The world outside felt distant now, the past they’d just confronted fading into the background. What mattered now was the quiet, steady promise that she was safe—here, with you.

-----------

a/n: I'm kind of forcing myself to write longer fics, and I hope this isn't too draggy and boring for u guys. feedback is appreciated :)

[quirekey]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well! Can I ask for HCS for tfp Megatron x femme autobot reader? Like for background he met her on cybertron before he became the leader of the decepticons and they’d spar together. Like he was literally in love with her and now they’re supposed to be enemies💔 thank you!

I am doing well, thank you!! This is an interesting one and I will try my best to write this, thank you for the request!

MEGATRON x FEMME!READER

[ megatron x cybertron!femme!autobot!reader ]

( We will be going straight into headcanons because I am unsure how I’d wrote the cause of the war in a span of 200-400 words 😭😭)

HEADCANONS

- When you chose your side to be with the Autobots, Megatron has not been taking anything lightly. He has been putting his army to an impossible amount of work. He basically has been letting all of his anger out because he just missed you so much. You were a burden to him but it was hard to let you go when he’s literally in love with you.

- Megatron is sleepless, he never recharges. It’s hard for him to recharge when he is so restless. He’s leading an army, that’s hard. Having you on his mind is harder. Honestly, it’s almost impossible that he has to eat extra energon just to stay awake.

- Megatron definitely just stands in his quarters, staring into nothingness. When he has time alone, he’s replaying the memories he had with you back when it was perfect. He definitely tries to forget but just can’t, so he embraces what he had. When he is relaxing, he constantly cherishes every single second he had back then with you. He enjoyed everything about you. Your voice, your appearance, your personality and how you sparred.

- When Megatron first battles with the Autobots, he sees you on the field. He is absolutely distraught and disappointed because he tried so hard to forget about you. Let’s just say he always targets you, because you both sparred many times in the past.

- Overtime, Megatron becomes obsessed with seeing you on the field. When he is about to fight the Autobots, he would always ask, ‘Where’s my darling?’. At first the Autobots are confused, but only Optimus really understands.

- Optimus actually knows about your relationship with you and Megatron. Back then in Iacon, D16, you and Orion Pax were all really close, like a trio that worked. D16 felt his spark light up like a pile of fireworks exploding everytime he was around you. Orion knew and he and D16 spoke to each other about it. You gained your love for him a little too late…

- The rest of the autobots find out when Optimus explains his close relationship with you. He also does not mention about your and his love for each other, unwilling to make the tensions worse.

- Megatron never confessed to you because he was scared. He spoke to Orion, he rehearsed his confession overtime and has tried so many times to let his true feelings out. He was scared to face the truth if you did not feel the same, how everything you had would’ve been all for nothing.

- You do dearly miss Megatron and actually love him too, but you don’t think Megatron loves you back. You wanted to confess but the war then started and the stakes were just too high. You wanted to let your spark out so badly for him, to keep him as yours forever, but it was merely impossible.

- The reason why you chose the Autobots is because you knew what was right. Though it was extremely tempting, you just couldn’t. You have too much of a strong heart to choose the evil side. You did not wanna be parted from Megatron, but it was inevitable.

[bookwormjust]

Sisters by choice not blood (established relationship with Cassian, Feyre in a breaking point)

You sat on the plush couch in the River House, Feyre beside you, her shoulders trembling as she tried to hold back her sobs. You had known something was wrong the moment you saw her earlier, the weight of everything she had been through weighing heavily on her. With Nesta and Elain recently transformed into fae, the burden Feyre carried seemed even greater now. She had always been the strong one, but everyone has their breaking point. And tonight, it was clear she had reached hers.

Without a word, you pulled her into your arms, hugging her tightly, letting her rest her head on your shoulder as she finally allowed herself to break down. Her tears soaked into the fabric of your shirt, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was being there for her, giving her the comfort she so desperately needed. You rubbed gentle circles on her back, whispering soothing words as she cried, her hands clutching onto you like a lifeline.

“I’m here, Feyre,” you murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

She sobbed harder, her grip tightening. “I don’t— I don’t know what to do,” she choked out. “I try so hard, but it’s never enough. Nesta and Elain—they don’t see me, they never have. I don’t know if they ever will.”

Your heart ached for her. You had always seen how Feyre felt like the odd one out, how her sisters had their own bond that often left her standing on the outside, trying to keep the family together. Now that they had all been thrown into this new life as fae, the strain was even more unbearable.

“You’re not alone in this,” you whispered, holding her closer. “You have me. You’ve always had me. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to carry everything on your own. Let me carry some of it with you.”

Feyre’s sobs began to quiet, but she didn’t let go, her head still pressed against your chest as she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. You continued to hold her, your arms wrapped around her protectively, offering her the sisterly support she had so desperately needed.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Rhysand and Cassian had entered the room, standing silently by the doorway, watching the scene unfold. Rhys’s face was full of emotion—sadness at seeing his mate in so much pain, but also pride at how she had come to you for comfort, how she trusted you in this vulnerable moment. Cassian stood beside him, his hand resting on Rhys’s shoulder, his expression mirroring Rhysand’s.

They didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt, but their presence was palpable. Rhysand and Cassian, though not related by blood, shared a bond as deep as brothers, forged through years of battle and hardship. And now, watching you and Feyre, they saw something similar—a bond of sisterhood, one Feyre had never truly known with Nesta and Elain.

Rhysand’s voice was soft, barely a whisper as he spoke to Cassian. “She needed this. She’s needed this for so long.”

Cassian nodded, his gaze fixed on you as you continued to comfort Feyre. “She has. And I’m glad she found it in her.”

Rhysand’s eyes filled with gratitude as he watched you, the love and care you showed for Feyre not going unnoticed. He knew that despite everything Feyre had gone through, she had found something precious in you—a sister who truly understood her, who would be there for her in ways Nesta and Elain hadn’t been.

Feyre sniffled, finally pulling away slightly, though she kept her hand on your arm as if grounding herself. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with sincerity. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled gently, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here, Feyre. Always.”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance, both of them proud and touched by the connection they saw before them. It reminded them of their own bond—a bond built not by blood, but by choice, by love, by loyalty. Just like Feyre had found in you.

Cassian came up behind you quietly, his large hand resting on your shoulder as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. He didn’t need to say anything—his touch conveyed everything he felt in that moment. Pride, love, and respect for how you had stepped in when Feyre needed someone the most.

Rhysand crossed the room, kneeling in front of Feyre and gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re stronger than you think,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to be strong alone anymore.”

Feyre looked at him, her eyes still red and swollen, but there was a glimmer of relief in them now. She glanced between you and Rhys, her heart swelling with the realization that she wasn’t alone—that she had a family who loved her, who would carry her through the darkest of times.

As the night wore on, the four of you stayed close, talking softly, the weight of the world lifting slightly off Feyre’s shoulders. And through it all, Cassian stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, knowing that just as you were there for Feyre, he would always be there for you.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (4)- Good Luck

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 4- 4k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

The deafening silence of your apartment suffocated you as soon as you shut the door, your fingers twitching subconsciously by your side as you felt anxiety and panic clawing its way up your throat, your gaze hurriedly looking around the apartment to find something focus on besides the feelings you’d be bottling up on the way home. It tore you in half to act as though nothing was wrong for the rest of the night, to smile at her in that loving and adoring way knowing it would be the last time as you waved her goodnight, to kiss her a final time, to kiss her goodbye. It broke you, but you refused to acknowledge it, too scared of drowning in your sorrows. You didn’t want to feel this way, you didn’t want to feel the overwhelming sense of pain and loneliness, to listen to your screaming thoughts in the silent room, the claustrophobic doubts clouding your mind at the decision you made. You couldn’t handle having to face everything, to face the fact it was over, the fact that the one person who made you feel free was never yours. She was never yours.

You could feel your chest tightening at the relentless thoughts, your mind begging you to do as you always did and push everything away, to just pretend you were fine and put a smile on your face as if nothing was wrong. You tried to get the corner of your lips to tug up, to put a brave face on as your empty stare took in your apartment, but your lower lip inevitably trembled, struggling to fight the anguish coursing through you. You couldn’t do this.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your crushed form made its way through the hallway to your room, looking longingly at May’s room as you passed it, desperately needing her comfort right now. You needed her to tell you everything was going to be ok, to hug you and soothe your worries but she wasn’t there. You were alone once again. You always ended up alone, it wasn’t fair.

You shut your door a little harder than you intended as you reached your room, your legs giving way as everything crashed down on you at once, a broken sob painfully being torn out of you. Why? Why did it have to end like this? Why did you have to love her? Your hands clutched at your head as you curled up into a small ball, knees pressed against your chest as your back rested against your door, body shaking with cries as the damn that was keeping your emotions in check burst. Your chest felt hollow, an agonising emptiness settling there as your palms pressed against your eyes, trying to stop the floods of tears escaping them whilst the joy and love that was once consumed your heart was replaced by a gnawing ache. Why couldn’t she just love you?

The question tormented your thoughts, your cruel brain dragging you down a despondent and painful trail of thoughts as you tried to control your ragged breathing, the panic and anxiety of feeling so out of control still burdening you.

Why was she so scared? Did she not think you were worth loving? Were you worth loving at all? Was it just casual? Were you an experiment? Why her? Why did you have to love her? Why does it hurt so much? You didn’t even do anything wrong. All you did was fall in love.

You drifted down the spiral of these thoughts, unable to stop yourself as they plagued your mind for what felt like hours, your body exhausted with the overwhelming feeling of heartbreak whilst you wiped your eyes once more carelessly, trying to get a grip of yourself.

The weight in your chest remained constant as you stared off at your bed feeling numb, your body drained as you slumped against the frame of the door, fingers brushing back your locks in a stressed manner as your thoughts continued to race, only pausing when your eyes caught a glimpse of something peeking under your bed, a ripple of unease stirring within you.

Gradually, you pushed yourself off the floor, making your way to your feet as you stood unsteady, limbs feeling numb and heavy as you took a reluctant step closer to the box, another stab of agony directed at your heart as you realised what it was.

Polaroids and various mementos of your secret times together with Wanda filled the small wooden box, leaving you powerless to another onslaught of tears brimming at your eyes as you stared at the item, conflicted on what to do with it. Part of you was tempted to open it, to recall the memories of every single photo you took, to remember the way you felt when she kissed your cheek before snapping a picture, the way your heart fluttered when she would look at you with mirth in her eyes when you would point the camera at her, offering you a loving smile as she waited for the click every single time. The other part of you wanted to throw the items away in anger, to hate her for tainting the memories but you couldn’t. They meant too much to you, she still meant too much to you.

A deep sigh left you as you used your foot to push it out of sight, hiding it further under your bed like a dirty secret because that’s what it was, that’s what you were. You could feel the irritation bubbling inside you at the thought, your jaw clenching in annoyance as you stared at where the box was, another wave of hurt washing through you as more memories and thoughts tormented you, reminding you of the gaping wound in your chest.

Why weren’t you enough?

***

The corridors of the college campus were filled with students smiling and grinning at one another, cheers erupting from the back of people's throats as everyone exited their last exam, finally free for the summer. Your expression contrasted the elated people pushing past you in a rush to leave, your defeated gaze searching for a certain locker as you planned to talk to Wanda today, to confess everything before telling her you were leaving, having accepted MI 13’s offer in England, needing a change of scenery. It was all too suffocating here, the reminder of her, what happened to your parents, you needed a change, no matter how hard it would be to leave everyone behind.

You eventually made your way to her locker, looking around to see if people would notice as you slipped the post it note through the small slits, asking her to meet you at the carpark behind your work. You lingered at the metal cupboards, a sense of dread filling you at what would inevitably happen later, the idea of heartbreak and tears causing a wave of nausea to take over you, your gaze lifting from the structure to stop your thoughts drifting down that path but accidentally making contact with her enchanting green as they gazed at you from across the hall, time seeming to slow down around you.

The people around you faded away as you felt that familiar tug on your heart, your smile not reaching your ears as you offered her one last fake one, desperately trying your best to keep it together whilst the corner of her lips tugged up at your actions, excitement evident on her face as she was eager to see you tonight.

Wanda had known you had been busy recently wanting to study for your exams, the two of you not meeting up for a while, but she couldn't wait to spend the summer with you, to laugh all night long and be herself with you. Her heart longed to be with you again like that one, tender night, the memory of that kiss haunting her mind in all the right ways, her body aching for you in such an affectionate way again. She wanted to feel loved by you, to be seen and truly appreciated in private before letting reality and the expectations of her drown her again. She needed the escape you offered her.

The brunette took a step forwards, hoping to talk to you but the sight of a familiar blonde stopped her, Vision’s smile soft as he distracted her, the sight of the two of them cracking your heart once more. You kept your face stoic as he brushed back a strand of her hair, her lips stretching into a loving smile as she peered up at him, kissing his lips briefly in an attempt to keep up the appearance with him, to you, the sight an interaction between a couple of lovers. A wave of bitterness washed through you at the fact he could be with her, he could show his love for her in public, your mind swiftly pushing the thoughts away as you knew there was no use in going down that spiral again, simply trying to stop the pain radiating in your chest by turning around, refusing to look anymore. You couldn’t watch her live her life a lie.

Unbeknown to you, when she could, her eyes flickered away from his piercing blue and the blush painting his cheeks, her smile soft as she forced herself to enjoy his company as he wrapped an arm around her waist, talking nonsense to her as her green frantically searched for you. She had to try and hide the way her brows furrowed at your tense posture as you pushed past people to leave, a glimmer of disappointment appearing in her eyes as she had hoped to talk to you and congratulate you on finishing your exams. The expression swiftly faded when he asked her something, her answer pleasing to him as she tried to keep the appearance up, ignoring the ache in her chest at the way you walked away, leaving her feeling alone.

***

Exhaling a final puff of smoke, you savoured the last of your cigarette before dropping it to the floor, using the heel of your boot to crush it into the ground when the sound of those familiar footsteps grew closer, your heart pounding anxiously in your chest, dreading what was about to happen. Your mind was tormented by the anticipation of what was about to occur, images in your head flashing by at the different ways this could end, unsure of what the best scenario would be. Would you want her to shout at you, to scream at you for breaking it off? To have her tell you she hated you so it would make things feel a little easier? Or would you rather her stay quiet and suffer in silence? Letting you watch helplessly as you carved a hole in her heart, unable to comfort her as you were the reason she was hurting. God, you didn’t want to hurt her.

A deflated sigh escaped as you couldn’t decide what reaction would be the best, but you knew deep down a part of you hoped she would do neither and ask you to stay, that she’d confess her feelings to you and learn that she didn’t have to be ashamed of you, that being with you wasn’t abnormal or something that made her a ‘freak’. You only ever wished she could accept herself.

Before your mind could repeat any more thoughts like a broken record, you watched in the corner of your eyes as she approached you, her smile practically reaching her ears making the chain on your heart tug forcefully. She looked so happy, you didn’t want to take that away from her.

“Hey,” she murmured out softly, her tone conveying her excitement as she leaned against your truck, biting her lower lip in that adorable manner as she tried to contain her enthusiasm, the expression dropping at the conflicted expression engraved on your face. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was tender as her mesmerising green peered up at you, every swirl of green containing care as she gauged your reaction to her words, the way pain flashed in your eyes before your mouth opened and closed, hesitating on your words.

At the glimmer of distress in your eyes, Wanda couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease crawl down her spine, a lump forming in her throat at the way you avoided her gaze, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to compose yourself, trying to stop the doubts in your mind as you had to do this. You couldn’t let this drag on anymore, you couldn’t.

“Wanda, I…” you trail off, building the courage to say what you felt but struggling to put it into words, a gnawing thought at the back of your mind begging you to tell her nothing was wrong, to carry on pretending.

Her intense green observed you with concern and apprehension at your vulnerable state, her heart rate increasing with every passing second as you tried to find the right words, the excitement and joy swiftly draining from her face as you finally continued, the words slicing straight through her chest.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you manage out, not hiding the pain in your voice as you spoke in such a raw tone, the worry that was brewing within her now flooding through her veins, her body almost flinching away from you at your words, moving to stand opposite you with anguish clear in her expressive gaze.

“What?” She whispered out, refusing to truly comprehend your words as you looked at her, your usually bright and playful eyes staring back at her despondently, acting as though the world around you had lost all its colour.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be a dirty secret, I want to call it off,” your words cut deep and you know they do, your face showing your sorrow for hurting her as she lets out a breathless laugh, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, her lower lip trembling at the pain radiating in her chest, her heart bleeding anguish into her veins.

Her head turns away from you, desperately trying to keep her emotions in check, the sight of you only further cracking her heart as her eyes glossed over completely, the tears flowing down her cheeks as she couldn’t stop herself, it hurt too much.

“Why?” she croaks out, hesitantly letting her gaze meet yours, an overwhelming feeling of despair drowning her as she looks into your equally broken eyes.

“You know why,” you murmur out, trying to keep your voice soft as you still wanted to comfort her, to soothe her pain. You were desperate to pull her into your arms, to hold her close and let her face seek safety at the crook of your neck, to press your lips to the top of her head and whisper tender words to her but you couldn’t. You were the reason she was crying and it tore you apart. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair.

“I…” Wanda couldn’t find the words to argue back, to say she didn’t know because she did. She knew that you had changed after you lied to her, she knew that you loved her but she refused to accept it. You couldn’t truly love her, it was wrong. She couldn’t let herself be loved by you, by a woman. She refused to make this real, she was unable to let the bubble the two of you created burst and let reality crash down on her. Why couldn’t you just continue to pretend? She wanted everything to go back to the way it was, she didn’t want this. She didn’t want to lose you, but she couldn’t admit the truth.

“I love you Wanda, I always have,” you whisper, your words laced with honesty and all the emotions you felt towards her, your tone so soft and tender that it causes a stray tear to slip from her eyes at how she wished she could let herself be loved by you, that she wasn’t taught this was shameful all her life. The hope and desire was brutally clawed away as soon as it came, the brunette powerless to the merciless grip her traditional mindset had on her, teachings from her childhood ringing around in her head as she forced herself to stop the feeling.

“No, you can’t, you can’t love me,” she chokes out, struggling to stop the lump in her throat from affecting her voice, desperate to sound composed and not as though anxiety and insecurities gnawed away at her sanity. “It’s wrong,” she sighs out, nausea bubbling inside her at the way your face drops at her words, the way you can tell she’s trying her best to use her denial to shield her pain.

“It’s not wrong,” you sigh out, taking a step closer to her, hands naturally reaching out to hold hers, letting your thumb brush over the back of hers tenderly before she pulls away from you, using her hands to wipe away the tears lingering on her cheeks. “It’s not, I promise you it’s not,” your words only further torment her, the ache in her chest constant as she wants to believe you, she really does but she can't. She won’t. “I know it’s hard to accept that you’re-” You try, but she cuts you off.

“Don’t,” she grits out, tone raising, a sudden harshness lacing her words as you furrow your brows at her, shocked at the disgust corrupting her green. “Don’t say it, don't make me say it, I’m not like that,” she mutters, pain underlying her words as your face grows sympathetic, unsure of how to help her. You just wanted her to stop running away from the feeling, to keep making excuses or giving stupid reasons as to why she couldn’t accept herself. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Why couldn’t she see that?

“Wanda-”

“No,” she doesn’t even let you disagree, leaving no room for argument as you sigh, lowering your gaze to the floor, trying to collect your thoughts. You knew she wasn’t going to admit to herself she was into women, and you weren’t going to force her to accept herself, but you needed to know if she ever loved you back or if this was really just casual. It couldn’t have been, couldit?

“I won’t make you say it,” you murmur out, keeping your gaze locked on hers, losing yourself in her green whilst you build the courage to ask her. You were scared of the answer, none of the possibilities your mind could come up with were good, but you had to know. Your mind would drive you insane if you didn’t. “But Wanda, I need to know, did you ever feel the same?” Your voice wavers as you ask her, a cold fear underlying your words as it spreads throughout your body, anxious thoughts trapping your mind as you were terrified to know how she felt.

Hesitation is evident on her face as she looks at you, clearly conflicted on what to say as you longingly look at her, heart pounding wildly against your chest as you wait for her to speak, the silence deafening as her mouth opens and closes, lost for words.

“Please be honest,” you murmur out in a pleading tone, not hiding the fear that consumed your body, “Did you love me?”

“No,” she croaks out, meeting your gaze before looking away, nausea making her head spin as she utters the word, her trembling hands moving up to her face to stop the sob that wanted to force its way out of her.

The pain that you had felt previously felt like a mere prick to your heart compared to the sheer agony that ripped its way through your body, her words leaving a scar on your heart that you’d forever carry with you. It hurt, fuck, it hurt so much, but not because she said she didn’t love you, no, her words destroyed you because she looked you right in the eyes and lied to your face. You could see it in the green you loved so much, you’d spent enough time with her to know how to read her, to tell when she was telling you the truth and she wasn’t.

A scoff left you at what she managed out, the sound turning into a breathless laugh to stop yourself from breaking down, your hands roughly wiping your cheeks as you avoided her gaze, an onslaught of anger gripping your heart. You wanted to scream at her with everything you could, to confront her and call her out but you didn’t have it in you. You wanted to hate her, to resent her and tell her here how you never wanted to see her again, but the words refused to leave your mouth. Despite everything, you didn’t want her to hate you. You didn’t want to lash out at her and make her think of you like that. You weren’t like that.

Pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing deeply, you tried your best to compose yourself before saying anything, your gaze catching a glimpse of her distraught green and only reminding you of the pain that slashed through you moments ago, your eyes squeezing shut in hopes that the pain would simply vanish and let you collect your thoughts.

“Good luck, Wanda,” you manage out of a few more deep breaths, your tone attempting to be soft but still containing a hint of sarcasm and irritation as you look at her, gaze softening as you take in her watery green.

Wanda’s brows furrowed at your words, at the tenderness she could sense in your voice, her mind lost to a sea of confusion. Why weren’t you shouting at her? Why didn’t you hate her? You should hate her. Her mind begged you to stop being kind to her now, your always caring self emerging when it shouldn’t. She didn’t want you to be loving and caring now, she needed you to hate her to make things easier, she needed you to stop.

“I hope he makes you happy, I really do,” you continue, each word pushing the knife further and further into her heart as well as yours, the fact that there was a hint of truth in your words twisting the blade as you partly meant them. You only ever wanted her to be happy, even if it meant she was with someone else.

“Y/n…” She tries but nothing follows the whisper of your name, your trembling lips pulling up into a soft smile as best you could.

“Don’t,” you murmur softly, stopping her from trying to prevent you from saying what you needed to. “I just hope you know you can’t run away from…this forever,” you whisper, stepping closer to her as you build up the courage to say goodbye to her, your hand hesitantly moving to cup her cheek, the brunette naturally leaning into your touch, trying to savour the little comfort it offered.

When your eyes met, a whirlwind of emotions crashed through you both as you got lost in each other's eyes, trying to prolong the impending farewell as you didn’t want to lose one another. You tried to memorise each swirl of green that you fell for, her eyes searching yours to let the comfort you provided engrave itself in her mind, knowing she’d need an escape from reality.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead, a kiss goodbye as you lingered there, a shaky breath falling from your lips before you whisper one last thing to her.

“I’m sorry for loving you,” you apologise softly, never having wanted to hurt her with your feelings, your words the tipping point for her as the sob finally leaves her lips, her hands reaching out for your body subconsciously, needing your comfort but stopping as you pull away from her, her body paralyzed by the heartbreak consuming her. “Goodbye Wanda,” your voice is barely above a whisper as the words escape you, your eyes refusing to look at her, not needing a painful memory to haunt your mind as you step away from her body.

Wanda could only watch through her blurred vision as you walked away from her, the ache in her chest increasing with every step you took, amplifying the loneliness she felt as you left her alone to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. 

[juniperdugong]

hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍

Here Now - Joshua Hong

WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!

A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)

It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.

You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.

So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.

Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.

It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.

But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.

You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.

Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.

When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.

"You don't have to do all this Shua."

"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.

"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."

Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.

"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"

"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.

"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.

"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."

"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.

He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."

"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."

He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.

"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."

Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-

"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."

You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.

"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.

"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.

*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.

A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda