#the burden would have been so much harder on her

[bellstrom]

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his lips at the mention of the word "domestic." His gaze briefly narrowed with curiosity, but then softened at the thought of his mother. Benny's laughter rang out, transforming into a warm chuckle. Chicago felt like a distant memory, yet being surrounded by familiar faces from that time transported him back to moments long passed. Although revisiting those old memories often made his stomach churn with a mix of nostalgia and anxiety, this encounter felt surprisingly pleasant. The joy of reconnecting with old friends always had a way of brightening his spirits.

“Do I?” he asked, a teasing grin stretching across his face. “Yeah, she is. I mean, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows when I moved here, but things are good now.” His words carried the weight of experience, a testament to the healing nature of time. Things weren't perfect, but they were infinitely better than before. “Wait, you said I give off 'domestic' vibes? Is that a good thing?” he continued, his curiosity piqued. The notion of being seen as domestic should typically be a positive trait, considering... things. Still, uncertainty crept in, making him wonder if it could somehow hold a different connotation than he hoped.

If there was anything Benny was moderately good at, it was minding his own business. Conversations with Sonny typically followed a familiar pattern, often skimming the surface. Occasionally, they would manage to break through some barriers and delve a little deeper. Benny liked to think he knew Sonny better than just a passing acquaintance, but her answer suddenly made him feel challenged. Work? That didn’t seem right. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Unsure of how to respond, he opened his mouth but paused when she spoke again.

Hearing that Sonny was a mother was the last thing Benny expected her to say. His eyes widened in surprise, and a wide grin spread across his face. "Wait, you're a whole ass mom?!" he exclaimed, his tone filled with excitement. He was in utter shock, but he had been keen on the idea of being a parent for a while; he couldn't help but immediately take the news as something good. However, he quickly grasped the seriousness of her story.

Tilting his head, Benny felt a rush of adrenaline at the unexpected revelation. "Is that who you're here with? Where are they?" he asked eagerly. He skimmed over her head and even turned his body to look around. Benny's curiosity was piqued; so much had happened since the last time they had seen each other. He playfully teased her, trying to lighten the mood, especially when he noticed the burden on her shoulders seemed a bit heavier than usual.

After settling down and stifling his laughter, Benny tilts his head with curiosity when she remarks how good it is to see him. He nods in her direction, a warm smile spreading across his face, conveying that he feels the same. But when she teasingly reminds him about the lunch he owes her, a twinkle of recognition flickers in his eyes. His brows knit together as the memory of their playful bet from years ago rushes to the forefront of his mind.

"Oh shit," he chuckles, amusement dancing in his voice. "You've got an insane memory." How could he forget? "I would have taken you to lunch anyway, but it's nice to know you have something to hold over my head to keep me accountable." With a casual wave of his hand, he leans back against the sturdy pillar, a relaxed posture belying the excitement he feels. "I do have time, actually. I moved here seven years ago, so we’ve had years to make up for all that lost time. I figured you might be the one with a harder schedule to fit into. Given the whole... mom thing," he grins, nudging her playfully.

Sonny laughs — a warm, almost subdued sound that curls around them, like smoke. Sunny D. She shakes her head at the former nickname, a flicker of something soft crossing her features before she masks it with a smirk. “God, I forgot you used to call me that. Still terrible,” she teases, though she can admit she doesn't exactly hate it either. Just then, she returns the hug, brief but genuine, before stepping back and scanning him again like she's still trying to convince herself this isn’t some strange nostalgia-fueled dream, seeing him again.

“Family, huh?” she echoes, glancing past him toward the crowd. They never really talked much about their families. Sonny preferred to keep the conversation and mood light. But, if they had, then the knowledge would cave in on her just like everything else has. “That explains the domestic vibes.” Her tone is still teasing, but something tightens behind her eyes. Then, passes after a second. “Bet your mom’s thrilled to have you home then? You always struck me as the type to disappear and leave the fridge half empty behind you.”

At his question, her smile twitches — not quite vanishing, but bending into something a little less clear-cut. “Work,” she says finally, easily, like it should be enough to propel away any other questions. But if she knows Benny half as well as she thinks she does, she suspects he’ll be able to see right through her bullshit. So after a long pause, she adds, “Or well, actually... I never told you this. Because we haven't seen each other in so long and it happened after I left Chicago but—I have a son here. He's seven. I came to see him, be with him, and hopefully make amends with his dad. It's a long story.” She offers a shrug. “It hasn't really gone all that well though if I'm being honest." Which, when it came to Benny, she usually was. Weird, huh. "But, I suppose that's to be expected."

After glancing back at the wish wall and, then down at her boots, Sonny goes on to add. “Maybe it’s the quiet I'm not used to. Or all the family bonding. Or hell, maybe it’s just the ghosts walking around looking like people I used to know that's been a bit unsettling for be here but.... I feel out of place.” Her eyes flick back up to his. “Anyway. It's good to see you. You got time? Or am I interrupting some big cousin reunion thing? I'd love to catch up. Maybe cash in on that lunch you owe me from years ago. Don't think for a second I've forgotten.”

[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.

[lunarcowgirl]

don't leave me here without you | one

yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

you can read part two here and part three here

dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.

~~~

from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)

this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3

warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst

word count: 2.1k

Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.

The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.

It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.

This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.

To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.

Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?

A resume…your resume. You were leaving?

His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.

When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?

Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.

“Dr Abbot?”

Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”

“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”

Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.

“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”

Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”

You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.

“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”

And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.

So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...

Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.

They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?

He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.

It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.

“Dr Abbot?”

He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?

There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.

“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.

And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.

He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.

“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”

“Like I said, you need to log off—”

“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”

If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”

You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.

You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.

Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.

“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”

Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.

“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.

“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”

Killshot.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.

Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”

By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.

~~~~~

um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x

| next

[hsjazebel]

The first fight - A Meant to Be extra

A/n: I knew I had to write their first fight at some point, and here we are! I love exploring the more vulnerable sides of their relationship—because even the best couples have their moments. But at the end of the day, they always find their way back to each other. Hope you all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think!

Summary: Harry and Y/N experience their first real argument, but even in the midst of frustration, love has a way of shining through

Wordcount: 5k

Meant to be | masterlist

———

Y/N had never liked conflict.

She had always been the kind of person to avoid fights whenever possible, to keep the peace, to hold her tongue even when something didn’t sit right. She hated the way her stomach twisted when voices were raised, the way her throat went dry when the air grew tense.

And yet, here she was, standing in the middle of her apartment, her heart pounding as she faced Harry—who, for the first time since she had known him, looked genuinely upset with her.

She could see it in the way his jaw was tight, in the crease between his brows, in the way he kept running a hand through his hair like he was trying to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.

“I don’t understand,” he said, voice low but firm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N folded her arms over her chest, shifting uncomfortably. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Harry let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Not a big deal,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Right. So you passing out in the middle of class isn’t a big deal to you?”

She flinched.

Charlotte had told him.

She had known it would come out eventually, but she had hoped—stupidly—that maybe she could get away with brushing it off, that maybe she wouldn’t have to explain herself.

But now Harry was standing in front of her, looking equal parts worried and frustrated, and there was no getting out of it.

“I didn’t pass out,” she muttered, staring at the floor. “I just… got a little lightheaded.”

Harry let out a sharp breath. “Jesus, Y/N.” He dragged a hand down his face, his fingers briefly pressing into his temples like he was trying to keep himself calm. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Her stomach twisted.

She knew why he was upset.

She knew.

But she hated the way his voice sounded—strained, like he was forcing himself to hold back. She hated the way he was looking at her, like she had let him down.

“I didn’t want to make you worry,” she said, voice quieter now.

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, that worked out great, didn’t it?”

Y/N inhaled sharply, frustration bubbling in her chest. “I was fine, Harry—”

“You weren’t fine,” he cut her off. “You weren’t eating properly, you weren’t sleeping, you were running yourself into the ground—and you didn’t tell me.”

His voice rose slightly at the end, not quite yelling, but close.

Y/N clenched her jaw, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I didn’t want you to drop everything for me,” she admitted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to fix me.”

Harry exhaled, his expression darkening. “Is that really what you think? That I’d only care about you if I thought you needed fixing?”

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly feeling small. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?” His voice was still firm, but there was something else in it now—something almost vulnerable. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you don’t trust me enough to let me be there for you.”

That hit her harder than she expected.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Because maybe—maybe, deep down—that was exactly what it was.

She wasn’t used to leaning on people. She had spent so much of her life convincing herself that she had to handle things on her own, that asking for help meant burdening the people she loved.

And she had done the same thing to Harry.

She had shut him out, not because she didn’t trust him, but because she hadn’t wanted to let herself need him.

Her chest ached.

“Harry…” Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before meeting her eyes again. His frustration was still there, but now, it was mixed with something else.

Hurt.

“I just don’t get it,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I thought we were in this together.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, her throat suddenly tight.

“We are,” she whispered.

Harry ran a hand through his curls again, looking at her like he was trying to find the truth in her words.

“Then act like it.” His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. “Because I can’t—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I can’t be with someone who won’t let me in.”

Something inside her cracked at that.

Because the thought of losing him? Of this—them—falling apart because of her own stubbornness?

It was unbearable.

She stepped forward, hesitating for just a second before reaching for his hand.

He didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was stupid, and stubborn, and I should have told you.” She squeezed his fingers. “I trust you. I do. I just… I’m still learning how to let myself need people.”

Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly as some of the tension drained out of him.

“I just…” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I love you, Y/N. And it scares me—really scares me—that you thought you had to go through this alone.”

Her breath caught.

He had said it before, of course. I love you. In soft whispers, in laughter, in sleepy murmurs against her skin.

But this was different.

This was raw. Real.

Y/N felt her chest tighten, and before she could second-guess it, she tugged him closer, wrapping her arms around him.

Harry exhaled against her hair, his arms immediately coming around her, holding her tightly like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the remnants of their fight still lingering in the air—but underneath it, something stronger.

Something that told her they would be okay.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her heart pounding.

“I love you, too,” she murmured. “And I promise—I’ll try to be better at this.”

Harry searched her face, his green eyes softening.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Okay.”

Y/N smiled, small but real. “Okay.”

And just like that, they found their way back to each other.

They still had things to talk about—things to figure out.

But for now, she let herself sink into him, his arms wrapped securely around her, his steady heartbeat under her cheek.

Because despite everything—despite the fight, the frustration, the stubbornness—one thing remained true.

They were still meant to be.

[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.” 

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 1

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.3k

cw: ANGST, depressed reader, allusions to self harm, reader is not MC, reader has a defined personality, I fear you can tell she's a self-insert, eventual contact with all love interests, no guaranteed happy ending

Synopsis: You hadn't been okay mentally. When going to meet your friend for lunch, you suddenly find yourself plunged into the world of Love and Deepspace as a close friend to the main character. Would you be able to find your place in this world not made for you?

author's note: So this is technically based on @ixloom819 ‘s post on affinity levels with an Isekai!Reader, but I made it very angsty and didn’t actually address the affinity levels in this part (we’ll get to it eventually, I swear. Probably in the next part, actually.) Reader has a lot of oddly specific personality bits here and there that are very much just me so uhhh sorry <3 also the song that is consistently referenced is Vienna by Billy Joel (it’s my favorite <3) Also MC is named Em because I saw another creator call her Em Cee so I decided to use that to instead of searching for a new one to use!

Series Masterlist

You rose with a jolt.

You had plans today.

You rolled over, checking the time.

11:30.

Weren’t you supposed to meet at 12:00?

You jumped out of bed, running straight to the bathroom. You would have to forego much of your “get ready” routine if you wanted to be on time. Quickly brushing your teeth, arranging your hair in a way that didn’t look like you just rolled out of bed, throwing on some jeans and a cute top conveniently sitting at the top of your drawer, and you were pretty much ready to go.

You grabbed your tote bag, tossing in your laptop, a journal, your pencil case, an old, heavily annotated copy of Frankenstein you were currently rereading (and trying to ignore your past, somewhat cringy annotations), and a small bag of snacks.

You checked the time again.

11:48.

Not too shabby.

Although getting ready was an easy, albeit rushed task, getting to the cafe you were meeting at on time was an entirely different and much harder issue. Through some stroke of luck, you’d manage to get to the bus station just in time for it to leave. And you found a seat!

Maybe today was going to be a good day. You were certainly due for one, you thought.

You knew why your friend had asked you to meet up, of course. You put your earbuds in, cueing your favorite song.

Slow down, you crazy child. You’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then, if you’re so smart, then tell me, why are you still so afraid? You let the music wash over you, the soft piano soothing your nerves as you relaxed your shoulders.

She was worried. You didn’t blame her. You hadn’t exactly been the pinnacle of happiness these past few months. Your recent self-imposed isolation probably hadn’t helped with that.

Your hands, resting on your thighs, flexed restlessly. You could almost feel the outline of every single cut you’d made.

No matter what you’d say, no matter how many I’m fine’s you’d muttered, you knew.

That was not what a healthy person did.

You thought of a journal entry you’d written, what seemed so long ago now.

‘I think it is the true human experience to want more than you have. But I don’t think this emptiness is innate in the human experience. The feeling never leaves me, it’s encapsulating. I feel absolutely nothing so completely. I cannot bring myself to care about my passions, my friends, my self.

I don’t think I can handle anything more than the burden that is my existence. My days are filled with distractions and entertainment, and my night are spent mourning lost time. I desperately want something worthwhile, something meaningful. I desperately want an adventure, with romance and risks. How am I supposed to find that in this world?’

It was an entry you’d thought about a lot. A bit melodramatic, sure. You’d probably been reading Sylvia Plath or something before writing it. But there was still truth to it. You told yourself you’d be fine, you’d get better. And the glimmer of hope at the very end of the entry served as a testament to you that it could get better:

‘But then, I guess those distractions were meaningful if they brought me happiness, however temporary. All emotions are temporary, so this should also be. This feeling will leave. And maybe I can have the adventure I dream of, maybe that is the dream of all creatives. Why else would these feelings and this imagination be given to humanity?’

You still didn’t know where these words had come from. It was a blur of existential crises and anxiety attacks and nights spent sobbing. You could understand the logic behind the words, and they’d helped you before. Briefly. But emotion does not bow to logic, and you soon found yourself drowning again.

Slow down, you’re doing fine. You can’t be everything you want to be before your time.

You really couldn’t blame your friend for worrying, you thought as you stepped off the bus. Even though there were glimmers of hope in your otherwise bleak mindset, you knew you needed help on some level. Maybe she could help, maybe she would realize what you were trying to say as the words died in your throat. Maybe she could recognize the storm brewing inside you.

Maybe, for one time in your life, you could feel truly seen.

Now, for the first time since you received that text inviting you out, you were actually looking forward to seeing your friend. What was once dread for an intervention where you’d be forced to dodge your feelings and hide them so as not to be a burden, became excitement as you realized how dearly you had missed your friend.

Isolation was nice for a time, yes. It allowed you to gather your thoughts. But then the thoughts came too fast and too much. Maybe a break from the overwhelming thinking would be nice. Maybe you’d laugh again.

You peeked through the windows of the cafe, and, not spotting your friend, decided to wait outside under the sign.

You sighed, a bit regretful that it’d taken you this long to feel not completely shattered again. You’d lost a lot of time mourning the future you couldn’t have and the past you couldn’t erase, neglecting the present all the while.

Well, it’s time to live in the present, you thought as you shut your eyes, enjoying the cool breeze on your face. It���s time to recognize the beauty of life for what it is.

Maybe happiness wouldn’t be that hard to achieve.

The breeze grew colder, and you let out an involuntary shudder. It was so warm today, you knew the weather was supposed to stay warm, so why was the temperature suddenly dropping?

Your headphones let out a harsh crackle before the sound fizzled out completely. You could still hear the ghost of the lyrics if you listened hard enough.

You’ve got your passion, you’ve got your pride. But don’t you know that only fools are satisfi—

“There you are!” You cracked an eye open. The voice wasn’t familiar, but not unknown either. The girl in front of you smiled bright. “I thought you’d be late. Again.” There was an obvious teasing each to her voice, as if you knew each other.

You didn’t, right?

You looked around at the street around you, startled to realize that it had completely changed. The bus station was gone, the sushi shop across the street replaced with an arcade. The city you were now in was nice. Sleek. The kind of stuff they show in Sci-Fi movies. Oddly familiar, too. You looked up above you, trying to catch a glimpse of the sign hanging above your head.

Destiny Cafe.

Wait.

Destiny Cafe?

You felt your throat tighten. You looked around, more attentive this time, searching for any sign that you were right and this wasn’t just a coincidence. When you caught sight of an Otto-Bot, you knew.

You were in that game. That stupid game you’d downloaded a few months ago out of curiosity. The game you’d spent too many hours in, finding comfort in the words of men who did not exist.

If you really were in Love and Deepspace, would that make you the main character? That’s usually what happens in those Isekai stories, right? Your thoughts whirled before you were brought back by the expectant stare of the girl in front of you. She doesn’t look like Tara or any of MC’s friends, you thought, so who could she be?

You examined her closely. She was almost like you. As if her appearance were a distant echo of your own. But upon closer inspection, you could see: where your eyes had many flecks of colors, hers had only the one. Where your skin had a blemish here and there, a slight change of hue, hers remained consistent. She was too clean, as if there were no substance at all. And that wasn’t even considering her perfect pale skin, or long, sleek black hair. That was when you realized, and a wave of disappointment flowed through you. This was her.

Everything about her seemed so two-dimensional, a constant reminder that this was not a version of you or even an independent person, but the Main Character of an otome game.

This was the figure in all the promotional art.

This was the main character of Love and Deepspace.

Not you.

Her.

After all, why would it be you, when she was standing right next to you?

“Hello? You’re staring off into space. Are you okay?” She waved her hand in front of your eyes. Your gaze snapped to hers. Though her brows were drawn in concern, you weren’t sure you could name a single emotion behind her eyes. “If you’re not feeling well, we can always go home… We don’t have to go out today if you don’t want to. Don’t feel bad for saying you don’t want to just because it’s my first day back here in a few weeks.”

You looked at her, your confusion only growing. How can you figure out what the hell is going on without seeming absolutely insane? “…Sorry, I hit my head really bad earlier this morning, and I’m having trouble remembering things. Could you just give me a quick sum-up of what’s been happening?” It wasn’t perfect, but maybe you could get some answers.

The furrow in her brow deepened. “You… don’t remember?” She suddenly grabbed your arm. “Do you remember my name is Em?!”

So that was her name. “Of course I do!” you chuckled. “Just give me a run-down of the past few months, maybe it will jog my memory.” You smiled, hopefully convincingly.

It seemed to do the trick, because she smiled back before diving into what seemed to be her life story with great enthusiasm. “Well a few months ago, I went to the N109 Zone for that one secret mission, do you remember that? Well anyway I was gone for a few weeks, I spent a lot of time with my friend Skye. I’m pretty sure you meant him, we saw him at that work karaoke party?”

Skye in the N109 Zone. You realized with a start: I’ve met Sylus! At a work party? Surely you’re not a hunter. You realized Em was waiting for your yes or no before continuing, so you gave her a slight nod to go on.

“Right, so, after that I took a few missions with Xavier, helped out Rafayel with bodyguard duties or whatever, and had to go see Zayne for a ton of things because apparently my heart was beating arrhythmically. Turns out I’m fine, just a lot of excitement happened, you know? Anyways, after that I took leave for a few weeks to go to Skyhaven. You remember that, right? I remember I told you a lot cause you were using your access for research to help me out.”

Access for research? What kind of purpose did you serve in this plot line?

“I got in a bit of trouble with the Farspace Fleet, but everything’s fine so don’t worry! And now I’m here to meet up with you ‘cause I missed my roomie!” She gave you a tight hug.

She certainly had a lot of energy, you noted.

So from what you gathered: You were roommates with Em and you both worked at the Hunter’s Association. It seems she’s pretty up-to-date as far as the main plot line goes. That, unfortunately, means you’ll be left in the dark for a lot of future events. You’ll have to go off of only the secrets you know from the game.

You mentally thanked yourself for not neglecting any of the Love Interests. You knew they were all extremely important in the world, and, despite having a favorite, you participated in events and games with all of them. All of their affinities were relatively high, meaning you knew a lot of lore.

That could come in handy.

You were still struggling to realize your importance in this world, though. Surely, if you were this close to the Main Character, you contributed something, right?

Would you be able to find a happy ending in this game?

Em continued jabbering on, mentioning little memories and conversations you two had shared.

You stared at her blankly, unsure of what she was talking about. It certainly sounded like something you would say, or something you would do, but you had no recollection of any of it.

Then, it came to you.

Fragments, at first. Memories of a life that wasn’t quite yours. One somewhat empty. One that seemed hastily added in at the last second. One that didn’t hold importance in a world as vast as this.

An afterthought.

You decided to eat lunch with Em. ‘You’ had apparently promised her a lunch date, after all. You didn’t go into Destiny Cafe, and you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. It almost felt like breaking the fourth wall to go inside, and you were afraid of what you would find when you entered.

Would it feel as empty as Em’s eyes?

You ended up finding a quiet sandwich shop. It was cute, homey, and you could feel yourself settling into a rhythm with Em. While you ate and chatted, attempting to seem casual and familiar in this setting, you watched her closely.

She was almost like an extension of yourself. You could see your own influence, seeping in from your various choices in the game, no matter how small. But she was still her own person.

You would never be her, you realized with a pang in your chest.

Never carry that importance.

So what was left for you?

A secondary character meant to fade into the background.

What fate awaited you?

Had anyone even bothered to weave the strings in the fabric that is your destiny?

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[littlelovelunette]

Issues

Switch! Sevika x fem! reader

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

˖ ݁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...?

[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.

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck Together - Part 6

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

A/N: This is a short chapter! There will be another one and that will be it for this series :) Ty all for reading!

A cold hand squeezes your neck, and you know that a normal person would be dead by now.

It isn’t human, that’s very much obvious. Looks like Vision, but you remember him differently. Definitely not all white, with those unsettling blue, void eyes.

“I have to kill you”

“Hey, man, we can work it out. Is it because I kissed Wanda?” you try to joke, holding on to his metal arm, hoping there’s a way he can let you go. The lack of oxygen is blurring your vision, but you have to do something.

You have to protect the kids.

“Wanda. Where is she?” he says in that monotone voice that you always hated.

“Not gonna tell you, you freak” you say. “Kids, run back…”

But he’s squeezing your throat, probably trying to make you speak.

Good luck with that, fucking toaster.

A second later, you drop to the floor, gasping for air. As you look up, there are red threads of magic around the synthezoid.

Wanda.

“You ok, detka?” she says, looking at you.

“Yeah, I guess he got a little too jealous, huh?”

“That’s not Vision” she says, looking away. “Take the kids, get out of here”

“No, you get out of here” you say, standing up. You notice the robot is struggling to break free, Wanda’s hand trembling with the effort of keeping him still.

“I’m the only one that can stop him. And I created this mess”

You recognise the guilt in her voice, the burden of thinking every wrong thing that happens must be some kind of punishment.

But that’s bullshit.

Wanda’s not alone, and you won’t leave her.

“Please leave” she repeats, and you know she read your mind. You shake your head no.

“I’ll buy you some time. Take the car and the kids. Drive as fast as you can. I’ll stop him”

“Ok” she finally nods. She twists her hands, throwing the robot as far as she can. Before she runs, though, she turns to kiss you, holding on to you like it’s the only thing keeping her sane.

“I…”

“I know” you smile, pecking her lips. “See you soon, love”

The kids reach for their mother, and you whistle at Riley.

“Go, fetch!”

Your dog runs back to the shed where you keep all your weapons, and you hope training actually paid off.

As for you, you brace yourself for the return of the robot, who seems to be flying back at full speed. You try to remember the few times that you trained with Vision, kicking yourself over being so dismissive of him.

Truth be told, he never really engaged in hand to hand combat.

So, maybe that’s it. Keeping him close will make it harder for him to fight.

Or easier to get yourself killed.

Well, you’re about to find out.

This time, you are prepared for the hand that reaches for your throat, and you punch it away. He’s faster than you remember, and even if you keep him busy, there are a couple of blows that land, and you feel the air leave your lungs, ribs cracking.

“Riley, hurry up, please” you mutter, grabbing the robot by the cape to hold him back.

In that precise moment, you hear a bark, and turn to find your dog excitedly dragging your old shield. All those frisbee jokes paid off in the end.

“Good girl, I owe you a treat. Now out of here”

Sliding down the pier, you grab the shield, turning around just in time to block one of Vision’s attack. It comes back to you like second nature, throwing and catching the shield while you defend and attack.

He begins to anticipate your movements, and at one point blocks one of your punches, sending the shield flying back.

“Fuck, that hurts”

It’s also been a while since you’ve felt your nose breaking. Last time was probably during training with Steve. That was an accident, but it’s very clear that Vision wants you out of sight.

Cold hands reach for you, throwing you against a tree that snaps in half. Before you can stand up to jump and dodge his next hit, an arrow flies past your head, exploding right in his face.

“Bet you’re happy to see me”

Barton.

“You know what? Hell, yeah” you say, catching the shield when he throws it back to you.

“I got someone on the line for you” he says, throwing you a com as well. You place it in your ear, testing it.

“Y/N?” Maria says, and you adjust the shield in your arm while Clint keeps shooting arrows at Vision.

“Hill”

“Hayward sent Vision. Or not Vision. Whatever he is”

“See? I told you to let me kill him”

“We’re trying to hack into its system, but it might take a while. Can you distract him?” Maria says, and you hear her typing at full speed.

“Fine. Hurry. He’s here to kill us, and he ain’t messing around”

Your point is proven a second later, when he throws a boat your way. Clint manages to shoot an arrow straight to his shoulder, an electrical current going through its system.

Vision falls to the floor, weakened, and you take advantage to throw yourself at him. You fight, Clint unable to shoot an arrow as you’re too close to the robot to have a clean view.

Vision takes advantage of this, using you as a shield when Barton decides to shoot, the arrow going straight through your abdomen.

“Shit, Y/N!” Barton says, hurrying to your side. Vision blocks his path, but you can’t be too concerned with that, not when there’s a freakin arrow coming out of your stomach.

With a grunt, you pull it out, feeling the wound heal as you stand up. Your face is full of bruises, a testament of the synthezoid’s strenght. You bounce your shield against his head, attracting attention back to you so Clint can take some distance and shoot from another spot. Unlike you, he won’t survive hand combat against Vision.

“Clint, I’m running out of ideas” you shout, still fighting.

“And I’m running out of arrows”

Great.

You have so many wounds, cuts and broken bones that it takes longer to heal, and Vision looks fine. He doesn’t have a body, so he is not tired, not even out of breath.

“Maria, status”

But you don’t get to hear her answer, Vision covering his ears and grunting. It seems like she’s finally breaking into his systems.

Or making him more lethal, as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt, flying you to the middle of a mountain. You land in a cloud of dust, face inches away from a cliff.

“Did it work?” Maria asks.

“Nope”

She curses, but you’re starting to realise his system is too advanced to hack into. As you look at the rocks above your head, an idea forms.

“Barton, can you shoot at a spot above me? Anything that causes an explosion”

“Not from here”

“Then find a spot and wait for my signal”

“Are you sure?” he says, folding his bow. He already knows what the plan is.

“No, but we don’t have many choices, do we?”

He sighs, knowing that the plan might work, but you won’t survive it. Though you have been through worse sometimes.

“You don’t have to kill them, you know? They’re kinda your family” you try to distract the robot.

“I don’t have a family. Only a mission”

“Your loss, they are pretty damn cool kids”

Finally, you trap one of his arms with your shield, getting suck in a pile of rocks. You try to make time, waiting for Clint’s confirmation.

“I’m in position”

“Shoot above my head”

“You’ll get trapped too”

“I’ll manage” you grunt, trying to keep Vision from flying. He can escape, but only if you let him. “Barton, I don’t have time! You owe me, for Natasha. So just do as I say”

You don’t wait to hear his answer, panicking when you notice Vision is freeing himself. You jump on his back, locking his head in a tight position. He pushes you both to the edge, and you bring him back to the other side, waiting for the explosion.

That’s when you realise how strong he is. He crushes your arm, but you hold on through the pain, even when tries to twist one of your knees.

Finally, you hear an arrow flying close to your head, and the explosion shakes the mountain a second later. Boulders begin to roll, but you don’t move. One hand is above your head, holding your shield and hoping it’s enough to protect you.

Rocks bury the lower half of Vision’s body, but you can’t let go just yet. It isn’t until you see a giant rock rolling your way that you free him, stumbling backwards.

Something hits your head, blood spiling down your forehead as you jump into the river, hoping the fall won’t kill you.

But you pass out before reaching the water.

—

There are bright lights. A constant, beeping sound. Something in your arm.

Not again.

Your mind begins to race, haunted by the memory of years of torture and betrayal, done by your own government.

But then, there’s quiet. You feel a warm touch in your forehead, the softness making your body relax.

“It’s ok, detka. You’re safe”

Wanda.

You open your eyes, looking around the hospital room.

“Hey, witchy”

“I hate it when you call me that”

“I know” you say with a smile. “But could I possibly get a pass? Seeing as I’m in recovery”

“Sure you can, sweetheart” she says, hand in your forehead.

The way she gives in so easily has you worried. There’s something wrong.

“How are the kids? What happened after?”

“They’re fine. Staying with Clint. I just wanted to make sure you recovered before…”

“Before?”

“Before leaving. It’s for the best”

“Wanda” you try to straighten in the bed, grimacing. “Come on, don’t do this”

“You got hurt because of me. It just… this follows me everywhere I go. Death and chaos. I can’t put your life on the line, I’d never forgive myself”

“Wanda, please” you ignore the pain in your side, stretching your hand, searching for hers.

But she moves further away.

“I’ll be ok. And you’ll be better off without me”

“Wanda” you ask once again, but your eyelids feel heavy. You try to stay awake, even as your body is shutting down, and pretty soon you’re fast asleep again.

You know it’s her doing. She’s keeping you from asking her to stay.

Because she knows she’s not strong enough to say no to you.

[caxasy]

— college au!caleb x male reader (kind of caleb x reader x mc, lowkey...) implied childhood friends

cw: possessive caleb, mentioned/implied possessive mc, mean caleb (not to you, rip the random girls in this prompt), use of the korean word "oppa", (idk how cws work, but im just adding that in there??), basically a yandere caleb trying hard to not outwordly lose his shit <3

an: i really like the idea of a male reader third being added into this duo's dynamic, especially an older figure, so i might write more for this universe/male reader trope!! + my first time writing anything for lads/caleb, so...DONT be rude puhlease

one day, his classmates came up to him before class started. their expressions were bashful and faces were slightly red. to him it seemed like another attempt of confessing to him — that was both annoying and somewhat troublesome, but alas, he’ll just let them down easily. like he always does. the set up was reading to be something exactly like that, which is why the true purpose of them approaching him was shocking. and more infuriating than he could have imagined.

“uhm, caleb, we were just wondering,” one of them spoke up quietly before forcing their voice to be louder, ��if [name]-oppa was single?”

his eyes twitched at the title. who the fuck were these people? sorry, did they know you or something? why would they call you that?

“he, uhm, he has been tutoring us for a while…well, me and lucia,” she gestured to a blonde girl that was apart of the group, who was also a bit red in the face, “and i was, uhm, just interested…no particular reasons!! we just wanted to know, were curious, haha, you know how it is,”

no, caleb didn’t. his chest was moving more rapidly with how uneven his breathing had become. once again, who the fuck were these people? you were tutoring people? he didn’t know that. you already had so much on your plate and now had to worry about these nusainces? he almost scoffed. what he was hearing was that these girls were just being burdens to you.

“i don’t know if disclosing that personal information is appropiate,” he “calmly” stated after collecting his thoughts. “you should ask him yourself, no?” he slams his book shut, abrupt and loud enough it makes them as a collective flinch. he almost sneers.

“well, since you two are bro-”

“he’s not my brother,” caleb hisses, finding it harder to keep his cool with each passing second, “[name] is not my brother,” he repeats.

“okay, well, we just thought-”

“you thought wrong,” he shoves his books into his bag and half hazardly throws the strap over his shoulder, “ask him yourself instead of bothering me, okay? i’m stressed with finals, i can’t really be bothered with something as trivial as this. you know how it is.” he sneers the last words with what can only be called venom, enjoying the way they shrink into themselves with each word he says. the way they seem to cower at his ruthlessness.

he enjoys it. putting people in their place in regards to you. they don’t know you, not like he knows you. what pisses him off even more though is them trying to. as if he’d ever allow them to even get that close to you. but then again, he didn’t even know you were doing tutoring sessions. how many people are getting the impression they have a chance in getting close to you? he’ll have to ask you later.

he can’t let these people in any closer than arm’s length distance. should he tell mc too? he’s sure she wouldn’t take too kindly to other people calling you oppa so casually. he smirks at the reaction she’d probably have to the news. an overdramatic flair of her possessive nature as well, he predicts. something the two of them had in common when it came to you.

well, he’ll deal with the issues however he seems fit. it’ll just be more convenient if he could also have some support coming from mc as well.

in his opinion, it should just be you guys in each other’s social cirlces. everyone else should just be passing faces, shouldn’t linger too long — getting too comfortable where they don’t belong.

[manicmanuscription]

Technicalities

PolySJM Week: Day One

Prompt: Whose Court Is It Anyways?

Pairings: Eris / Azriel / Fem OC

Summary: Trying to balance a fresh mating bond is hard, even harder when Enora wants to settle down and live her life but her two mates can’t stand each other.

Word Count: 1588

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Arguring, Make-up sex mentioned.

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist

A/N: This went absolutely in a different direction I was going but hey here we are. Happy Poly Week!

Aiding and Abetting traitors or anyone outside of your own court for harmful purposes was treason. 

Trading illegal information with another court was treason. 

Harboring criminals and spies was. treason. 

The Winter Court’s lawbook didn’t technically say anything about hiding The High Lord of Autumn and the Night Court’s spymaster in my bedroom and technically I didn’t aid them, share any sensitive information or harbor any spies but I was pretty sure it was still treason or at least toeing the line. 

Especially since my brother had no. fucking. clue. 

God help us all if he somehow found out about it. Kallias despised the Night Court, and he thinks Eris is a bumbling shit-for-brains dickhead. 

Paranoia about my brother finding out about the two popular political frenemies in my room, at nearly three am, had me straightening my spine. 

“Be quiet.” I snapped for the millionth time as Eris and Azriel were at each other’s throats. Again.

Gods as if this mate bond wasn’t already a political nightmare I had to be mated to two people who loathed each other more than anyone else on the face of this planet. 

They didn’t even hear me over the sound of their bickering -for a spymaster and high lord you’d really think they’d be more mindful about committing semi-treasonous behaviour- and I huffed out an annoyed breath grabbing Azriel’s wrist as his hand moved towards his blade and tugged him away from the red-headed male  

I stepped in between them, giving them an equally harsh glare. “How many times do I have to tell you to be fucking quiet! Do you want this whole damn castle to hear you?” I whisper hissed, rubbing my temples. 

Our love story wasn’t a romantic, soft and gentle one. No, in fact it had been blades, sharp tongues, death threats and blood. It had been attacks and countermoves. All in the name of destroying each other and protecting our respective court’s. 

But eventually I got over my distrust, and so did they. My relationship’s with them slowly blossomed into something beautiful, but it happened singularly. One on one.

Because no matter how much I tried, Eris and Azriel were fine sharing me (after a lot of work and scheduling) but in no world would they ever be in a relationship with each other. 

They hadn’t even acknowledged the golden string tying them together. Unless it involves me or trying to kill each other they simply weren’t interested. 

It hurt to say the least and I was tired. Tired of being dragged halfway across the continent because they refused to have date nights together, tired of all the constant traveling, the lying to my friends and family and worst of all I was tired of them making this mateship -something I’d dreamed of and fantasized about, something that was supposed to be beautiful and sacred- a chore. 

I already have too many chores. I’m Kallias’ emissary and advisor, a princess, and now a soon to be aunt. I didn’t need this extra stress in my life, which I had told them, deciding it was time for us to just pick a place to live and settle down together so I could take some burden off my plate. 

But because I had made the naive mistake of trusting them to act like adults and pick the best spot for me to live -I’d hoped they would overcome their grievances and choose a place and court all together- and because The Mother said nothing can ever be easy for me, obviously that statement turned into a midnight tryst in my chambers where my mates are currently fighting tooth and nail for the spot. Azriel want’s it to be his court and naturally Eris wants it to be his. 

“I’m sorry love.” Azriel spoke, softening his voice and pulling me out of my thoughts he quickly pressed a soft kiss to my cheek as he turned the wrist I was carrying and now cradled my hand to his muscled chest. Eris’ eyes blazed at that and quickly pressed a kiss to my other cheek, brushing a piece of my snow white hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry too sweetheart.” He mumbled, we’re still working on his ability to apologize to others. If I hadn’t felt his pang of guilt through the bond I’d assumed he’d only done it because Azriel had. 

“It’s the middle of the night if my brother catches either of you in here. We’re all dead.” I emphasized the last part. My eavesdropper-protectant charms had broken nearly a week ago and I’d been too damn busy to fix them. 

“You’re right Enora, I apologize for my part.” Eris started.

“Thank you-”  

“Azriel, However? For a spymaster you’d think he’d mastered the necessary skills to be silent by now. I’ve always suspected you were incompetent but now I can prove it.” 

“I don’t need proof to know you’re an egotistical bastard who runs his court with a fresh manicure every week.”

Oh for the love of gods. 

They were arguing for a few more minutes. Their hushed tones lasting all of thirty seconds. I rubbed at the headache building behind my eyes, my pleas for quiet going unanswered until I finally snapped. 

“All right. That’s it.” I whisper-yelled. Glancing at the door as a quick safety measure before ensuring my mates eyes were on me. “I. Am. Done. With all of it! With your constant whining and bickering and ambushing me when I’m with the other.

 As if there are only two faes instead of three in this mating bond. If you ignorant, blinded, self-absorbed alpha males got your tiny dicks out of each other’s uptight assholes you’d see how much you're hurting me. Parading me around the other as if it’s a competition, it’s not a competition.  Instead of you picking where I’m moving, I’ll decide. I’m staying here, in my house, in my castle, in my comfortable bed, in my court since you smug pricks can't act like adults and communicate. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everytime you fight it kills me. 

Courting is supposed to be flowers and handwritten letters and-and gifts! and soft spoken words and fun dates not whatever the hell this is! I am tired of the constant traveling, of the back and forth, of leaving a shoe in Eris’ house and the other in Azriel’s. I’m tired of listening to you fight and bulldozing my own emotions in the process. I'm tired of all the lying. gods. Now you are both going to go spend a nice week or two in Eris’ lake house. You’re going to bring me my motherfucking favorite shoes and that stupid bracelet I left there and you are either going to fuck each other or kill each other. - Because sweetheart’s, let’s face it, even a blind man could see you two wanna kiss each other- No. other. options. Because I am exhausted of being yanked around the continent as if. I. don’t. have. work. to. do.” 

Finally, for the first time in an hour silence enveloped my bedroom. 

The only sounds were the quiet breathing of my ragged inhales as I fought to regain my breath after spewing so many words at once. 

A weight lifted off my chest at the words. Long months of dealing with this, and saying nothing, long months of trying to comprise and fix issues that were never mine to solve. If they wanted me they were going to have to learn how to be around me without making me miserable. Because I loved them both so much it hurt. 

A mixture of emotions passed over their faces. A whirlwind of guilt, regret, shame and anger flooding both sides of the bond at once it nearly knocked me off my feet. I reached down for the small decanter sitting on the side table and poured myself a drink. 

Then another one. 

Then all of a sudden the damn burst, both of them recovering from shock. 

“But-” 

“Shush.” I snapped. 

“I-”

“Shush!!.”

“How are we-”

“Don’t even want to hear it.”

“supposed to bring back-” “-kiss him?! As if-”

“Zip. it.” 

“-if we kill eac-”

“Shut. Up.”

“Enora!” “Enora!” They both bit out in frustration. 

“Uh. Uh. I do not want to hear a single peep from either of you. I have a meeting tomorrow with some members of the Court and I swear to the Mother I need at least eight hours if I have to listen to Lord Hennings talk one more time about his stupid new boat.”

“But I-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” My voice broke at the words. “You either go figure your shit out like the plus five hundred year old males you are or as far as I’m concerned I don’t have any mates.” 

The words tasted like bile on my tongue and the weight of them had both of them flinching. Another few minutes of silence passed before Eris took Azriel’s shoulder. Winnowing both of them away, leaving only the heaviness of my words. 

I finished my second drink and walked into the adjoined room. Ignoring the few tears that unwillingly fell and jumped into bed, hoping sleep would soothe my aching soul. 

—— ⭒ ——

Two weeks later, a bouquet of snowdrops appeared on my desk, along with a heartfelt apology letter, smelling of sex and a written promise to figure things out and to take me to the orchestra. 

With both of them in attendance. 

[kyber-crystal]

'tis the season || f.w.

summary: it’s christmas at the burrow and you can’t shake off the enchanted mistletoe that always seems to follow you wherever you go

words: ~5.1k

warnings: holiday cheesiness. my bad writing. lots of fluff. getting together/first kiss(es) cliches. fred being a rizzler (or at least trying to). mistletoe cliches. basically a lot of cliches

a/n: i had to. it may be mid-march but i couldn't resist another cute holiday fic. also i’m so sorry lol i went overboard again. will i ever write anything short 💀

“Oh, my sweet girl, it’s so good to see you!” Molly exclaimed as she came forward, bringing you in for a tight, motherly hug. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been great,” you smiled kindly. “Thank you again for letting me stay, I didn’t want to feel like a burden but Fred and George said they already told you I was coming—”

“Nonsense! It’s no problem, dear,” she insisted, smoothing your hair back. “It’ll be wonderful to spend the holidays together.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, “and I’m most looking forward to your roasts.”

“You’re too sweet,” she patted your cheek, “now, I’m sure you all are exhausted. Let’s head on home, shall we? George, Ron, help her and Hermione with their things, won’t you?”

“But Mum, we already have our own things to c—” Ron immediately stopped talking once he saw the warning look on his mother’s face. “Okay…”

While him and George took ahold of your things, Fred fell into step besides you, casually slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Excited to spend Christmas with me?”

“No,” you joked, trying to shrug his arm off. He only pulled you further into his side, and you chuckled lightly, “I’m only here for your mum’s cooking, of course.”

“Wow, so my irresistible charm didn’t work on you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I’ll have to try harder then,” he shrugged, then leaned in to press an exaggerated, dramatic kiss to the side of your head. “Well, I’m happy you’re here.”

He spent the rest of the walk out of King's Cross making a show of being extra affectionate and cheesy, causing Ron to look over at Ginny and gag, and a nostalgic smile to grace Mrs. Weasley’s features. 

The Burrow was a hive of activity in the final days leading up to Christmas—everyone was busy rushing around helping with something. Fleur was gliding through each room, feather duster and other cleaning supplies floating behind her in a glowing trail, Bill and Charlie were working outside in the front and back yards, and you were helping Mr. Weasley fix up various gadgets. You hated cleaning and repairs, but talking to the kind man made the time go by much faster than you expected. 

“So, Y/N, I hear that you have some Muggle knowledge,” Mr. Weasley spoke up as you carefully took a clock apart, inspecting each of its parts, “could you tell me what is this thing called the ‘internet?’”

You took the cloth from his outstretched hand and began to wipe at the glass as you spoke, “Yes, my mother is a Muggle so I know a good amount of stuff. She’s been writing to me about the new computer her and Dad got back home, and it’s fascinating. You can do just about anything on the Internet. Search up cute animal pictures, read the news, play some games…”

“Do these pictures move?” 

“No, but we have videos,” you explained, “they’re recorded clips and they’re kind of like moving pictures.”

“Fascinating. You’ll have to show me sometime,” he smiled, “And, I still have that—what is it? Camera recorder, that you brought over the summer?”

“Camcorder, sir,” you corrected, “it’s a video camera. You can record videos on there and play them as many times as you would like.”

“You’ll have to show me one day,” said Mr. Weasley. 

Just as you were nodding in agreement, you felt someone come up behind you. A sudden warmth flooded your senses and you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. 

“What’s going on here?” Fred murmured as he propped his chin on your shoulder and snaked his arms around your waist, squeezing tight. You couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him to let go; it was like every muscle in your body relaxed the moment you realized it was him. 

“Well, Fred,” Mr. Weasley replied, “Y/N here was telling me all about the Internet and video recordings. Quite ingenious, these Muggles are.”

“Is that so?” His nose just barely brushed your cheek and you felt your heart explode. It wasn’t like he’d never put his hands on you in the past, but something about the moment felt more intimate than the rest. “You’ve got to tell me all about it.”

“She’ll tell you once you get your hands off her and go help Mum with dinner,” a voice sounded from behind you both. You turned to see Ginny standing there with her hands on her hips, a knowing smirk on her face. She exchanged a pointed look with her father that somehow, both you and Fred missed. “Oh and Y/N, she wants you to come too, if you’d like.”

Fred grumbled to himself and carefully released you from his arms. You tried to ignore how it suddenly felt cold when he did. 

“Go on, Fred, go help your mother,” Mr. Weasley gestured with his hand, “I’ll take it from here. And Y/N, thank you for your help.”

Just as you were about to cross over to the kitchen, a hand on your arm stopped you in your tracks.

“What is it this time, Fred?” you sighed.

“We can’t walk past this, it’s bad luck.”

“For Merlin’s sake, what are you talking a—” you followed to where his finger was pointing, eyes landing on a bundle of mistletoe hanging from the top of the entryway. “—oh.”

“Mistletoe,” he flashed you a cheeky grin. “Pucker up, sweetheart.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks. “Are you being serious?”

“I’m being dead serious—I promise I’m not bad.”

“Fine. Only because it’s ‘tradition.’” 

That was all the signal he needed before he gently tugged you close and connected your lips in a tender kiss. You instinctively reached up to cup his cheek with one hand, heart beating rapidly when you felt him smile against your lips and tighten his hold on you. 

After a few moments you pulled away, feeling as if you had just been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Your heartbeat hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“That wasn’t too terrible, now was it?” Fred raised a brow at you in question. Were you just imagining things, or were his cheeks kind of pink as well? 

“Terrible,” you lied, pretending to look disappointed. 

“But you know you love me,” he sing-songed as he walked away into the kitchen. 

“As much as I love Umbridge,” you sing-songed back.

“Hey!” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him, ignoring the pointed looks that your onlookers (particularly Ginny) sent your way.

This had to have been the first morning in ages in which you felt well-rested. Well, if you could call it morning; it was nearly noon and you had just woken up, almost suspicious at the lack of heaviness pressing down your eyes as they opened. You were one of the last ones to wake if you didn’t count Ron, who often slept until lunch. 

Looking down, you realized you had somehow ended up wearing Fred’s sweater rather than your own to sleep, the giant monogrammed ‘F’ standing out against the maroon in golden thread. You were too lazy to try and question it, however, so you opted to brush the thought off and quickly got ready, brushing the tangles out of your hair. 

“Y/N, guess what w—” someone called out from below as you made your way to the winding staircase. 

Before you even had the chance to respond, your foot caught on the step below you and you slipped backwards. You braced yourself for a hard hit on the rock-solid floor, expecting to hear a crack, but didn’t, and felt a strong pair of arms catch you around the waist instead. 

“Almost took a hard fall there, didn’t you?” Fred chuckled lightly, “you’ve got to be more careful.”

Even after you had steadied yourself, he didn’t let go of you nor did he step away. Your face flushed at the realization. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling hot, “definitely. I’ll…try not to trip like that next time.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Several moments of silence passed, and his eyes were still on you, a slight look of endearment shining in them. 

“What?” you were now feeling confused, “is something wrong? Is there something in my hair? Please don’t tell me it’s a spider—”

He simply shook his head, staring upward. You followed his gaze to see a familiar cluster of sage-green leaves with white berries hanging from the top of the doorway by a ribbon. 

“Mistletoe,” he said confidently, but you could’ve sworn you saw a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “I wonder who put that there?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling flustered, “maybe someone’s just trying to spread the holiday cheer. Did they teach Dobby to scale the walls or something?”

“Now that kind of makes sense.”

“Totally.”

“Or maybe, Georgie did this,” he guessed, “can’t really think of why else we’d get caught under it again.”

“You think?”

“Possibly.”

“Yeah. That makes sense too.”

“...Alright, we’re delaying this,” Fred declared after several moments of silence, eyes flickering down to your mouth. 

“No, we’re not,” you awkwardly coughed, turning away to try and hide your blush, “you’re delaying it, not me.”

“Then let’s get it over with, love.”

“Okay, fine.”

Rising up onto your tiptoes, you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly, trying your best to ignore the swooping sensation in your stomach. 

“There, now we won’t be cursed to a life of loneliness.”

“Y/N, would you be a dear and help me with chopping the vegetables?” Mrs. Weasley called you from your spot in the living room where you, Hermione, and Ginny were sprawled on the floor, hovering various random objects in the air. “It won’t take too long.”

You stood up and dusted yourself off. “Oh, sure, of course.”

Cooking wasn’t your favorite activity in the world, but you didn’t hate it either. Still, it wasn’t like you went out of your way to whip something up to eat if you could help it. But you genuinely enjoyed it when it was with Mrs. Weasley; she always had a good story or two to tell, and made for great company. Her meals always reminded you of those of your grandmother and mother’s. 

Taking one of the freshly washed knives, you slowly began to chop the onions, careful to avoid cutting the root because you knew you’d turn into a teary-eyed mess if you did. You knew you could use a bit of magic to speed up the process, but both you and Mrs. Weasley swore up and down that there was something different about homemade, handmade meals. 

Right when you were about to finish your work, your hand slipped and the blade sliced across your palm. You hissed in pain and quickly jerked your hand back, muttering a string of swears under your breath. Blood started dripping from the cut, small scarlet droplets hitting the counter. So much for being careful…

Fred was by your side in an instant, taking your hand in his and peering at it worriedly. “You’re bleeding.”

“Way to state the obv—” you were about to say something snarky, but the moment he adjusted your hand, you winced and swore again. “That fucking hurt!” 

“We need to get this bandaged up,” he stated, not caring that your blood was now getting onto his sleeves. He let go for a moment to hastily wrap your hand in a towel before holding onto it again, “Come on.” 

You reluctantly obeyed and followed him to the nearest washroom where he gently lifted you by the waist and set you down on the countertop. Resisting the urge to swing your legs back and forth, you watched him curiously as he began to rummage around the bathroom, opening and closing several cupboards until he found a small box, setting it down beside you.

“Luckily, this isn’t a bed-binding injury,” he explained, setting a small box down beside you, “so it won’t need any fancy spells to fix.”

“Fred, I’m fine, you don’t have to baby me. I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself,” you sighed. “It’s just a cut. Maybe a little deep, but still—just a cut.”

“Well, I want to help you. And for what it’s worth, I don’t like seeing you hurt. Even if it is ‘just a cut.’”

Realizing he wouldn’t let up, you stopped trying to argue. “Alright then, have at it.”

Fred flipped the lid of the box open and pulled out a roll of gauze and several cotton balls, along with a small vial of some basic disinfecting tonic. He gingerly unwrapped the makeshift bandage around your hand, tossing it into the wastebasket by the sink. 

“I’ll try and be as gentle as I can, but no promises…I’m sorry,” he warned. 

“Just hurry up and do it,” you gritted your teeth, the stinging sensation in your palm growing worse. “Let’s get it over with.”

He first ran a cloth under the water and gently pressed it to your skin, cleaning the excess blood away. The cold felt good against your skin, but this relief was short-lived once he pressed the tonic-soaked cotton ball to the cut and you yelped in pain. 

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he whispered, continuing to gently dab at the wound. “It’ll be over in a sec.” 

It was almost odd, seeing this gentler, softer side of him that you rarely ever saw make an appearance. He was dead silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his brows creased in concentration and how he held your hand so gently as if it was made from fairy dust and starlight. 

“Alright, you’re all good,” Fred announced a moment later, gesturing down to your newly bandaged hand. “You’re all good to go.”

“Thanks,” you exhaled. 

With Fred’s help, you hopped down from the counter, feeling the cold floor against your bare feet. It was only when you looked back up that you realized how close you were standing—you were practically chest-to-chest—along with the mistletoe growing from the ceiling. The stupid plant was taunting you and you hated it. Were you ever going to get a moment of peace this Christmas…

“Was that there before?” you questioned. “I could’ve sworn it wasn’t…”

“Who cares?” Fred shrugged, “we’ve got to kiss now, right?”

“Obviously…” And before you knew it his lips were pressing against yours, arms sliding around your waist. The taste of gingerbread and firewhisky filled your senses as your lips collided, getting a whiff of something smoky and sweet. 

It was weird to finally be at eye level with him because you were sitting on the edge of the sink, and this sudden dynamic change had butterflies sweeping through your insides. 

“Right, well,” Fred cleared his throat as you broke away from him, suddenly bashful, “and they say a kiss will make it all better.”

“Yeah. I’m feeling loads better already.”

There was a different sort of look in his eyes this time; it was as if he wanted to say something more, but held back. 

In spite of the ‘awkwardness’ you still let him hold your hand all the way back down to the kitchen. He didn’t mind, of course.

It was finally Christmas Eve and you were beyond exhausted but couldn’t have been more excited—Christmases at the Burrow were your absolute favorite. Mealtimes in particular were always filled with endless laughter; there was never a dull moment at the dining table and you loved every minute of it. 

After a lively pre-holiday supper, Ginny declared that it was time for a giant lip-sync dance party, so you all cleared up the entire living area, pushing chairs and sofas to the edges of the room. 

Mrs. Weasley had a wide selection of music for you to choose from and you decided to pair up, each person randomly sticking their hand in a hat and pulling out a slip of paper that had the name of the track they’d be ‘singing.’ You and Hermione were put together and got stuck with Celestina Warbeck’s “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love.” Everyone howled in laughter as you pulled out the thin sheet of paper, reading the title. Those howls only magnified as you launched into an overly dramatic, opera-like performance, dancing around the room with your best friend. The two of you ended the sequence with Hermione dipping you dramatically and almost dropping you, causing you to slip momentarily.

The whole room burst into applause and both you and your best friend bowed, grinning from ear to ear. 

After everyone had gone for a round it was a free-for-all, so once Mr. and Mrs. Weasley finished their dance, Ginny tugged you into the center of the room. “Come on!” 

“Oi, you’re staring,” George pointed out, leaning to whisper into his twin’s ear. “You’re so in love.”

“Shut up,” Fred grumbled, not taking his eyes off you. His eyes followed your frame as you and Ginny twirled each other around, heads thrown back in laughter and clutching each other because you had spun yourselves dizzy. It was hard not to; he was completely mesmerized. This was his Christmas gift, he told himself, he didn’t need anything else. “Am not. Besides, you know she only sees me as—”

“Are too. You know, you can be so thick sometimes.”

But then you nearly stumbled and fell for what felt like that millionth time this past week, and again, Fred rushed forward mid-conversation to catch you.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

“Would you look at that,” Ginny snickered as she regained her balance, and jabbed her finger upwards, interrupting the brief ‘moment.’ The music continued to play softly in the background. “you two! Stop right there!” 

“Bloody hell,” you let out a long groan. You didn’t want to look up this time. Fred looked just as smug as his sister did, if not more. “Not again.”

“Oh, no!” Fred feigned a look of surprise, “it’s as if it’s following us! Bit strange, innit?”

“Yeah. Very.”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you heard several voices—likely Ron, George, and Hermione—chant. Everyone else watched on in amusement. 

“Why don’t we give them what they want?” Fred hummed, a hint of amusement painted across his features. “They get a show, and we get to kiss. It’s a win-win.”

“Whatever you say,” you muttered. 

He then gently caressed your cheek and brushed his lips against yours, sending a strange spark of sorts shooting down your spine. It felt as if you’d been thrown into the icy depths of the Black Lake yet you were still afloat, missing the fate of drowning just by the feeling of his lips. 

You were too caught up in the newfound feeling to try and figure out why you’d been caught under the mysterious plant for what seemed like the thousandth time already. This time around, though, you had less complaints waiting to burst forward from the tip of your tongue. 

“Oi! Save the rest of it for the bedroom!” a loud voice jolted you from your trance, and the two of you finally broke apart for air, “keep it family-friendly down here!”

“Ron!” Ginny punched her brother in the shoulder, causing him to wince. “Stop ruining the moment!” 

Everything resumed as normal, though Fred found himself sitting closer to you as the evening wore on, one hand placed on your upper thigh as if it was meant to be there all along. 

By the time you had all washed up and gotten ready for bed, you were tired out of your mind, but still found it difficult to fall asleep. Hermione and Ginny watched with amused looks as you paced around the room in frustration, half-convinced that by morning there would be scuff marks in the floorboards from where your feet had been. 

“I just don’t understand,” you groaned as you flopped backwards onto your bed, pulling the sheets all the way up to your chin. “It’s everywhere! How come no one else is getting caught beneath it as frequently as us?”

The redhead girl simply laughed, “are you complaining about locking lips with him this often? Last I recall, you seemed to quite enjoy—”

“Oh shut it,” you scoffed, “I like following a holiday tradition. Even if it’s more often than I’d like.”

“Uh huh.” Ginny didn’t look convinced in the slightest. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/N.”

“She’s not wrong,” Hermione chimed in as she got into bed as well, “if I didn’t know better I’d think you’d been together for ages.”

“It’s all fake,” you mumbled, voice trailing off as the realization hit you, “none of this is real. If I’m going to kiss him, I want it to be real real. No mistletoe, no bets, no nothing. I want to remember it and I want it to mean something beyond just a silly little tradition.”

The two girls fell silent for a moment as they took in your words. 

“...He was your first, wasn’t he?” asked Hermione. “And second…and third…”

Your lack of response told her all she needed to know. 

The delirious feeling remained when you woke up early the next morning. 

Changing and getting ready felt harder than normal; the moment you sat up in bed, you wanted to lie back down and go back to sleep. Hermione and Ginny clearly felt the same way, judging by their bleary eyes and tired groans. It was Christmas Day, and the only present you really wanted was a good night’s rest. And you thought you would finally be getting some, until George had starting pounding on your door and demanded you all wake up before they broke the door down. 

“How about I break your bones instead, you git!” Ginny snapped as she threw the covers off herself, storming to the door and swinging it open. “We’ll be down in a minute, geez!” 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed…” George sang. “That’s not the holiday spirit. Come on. Mum says we can’t open presents till you lazy bums get downstairs.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and promptly closed the door with a huff, walking over to her bedside to change. You wanted to wait longer out of spite, but knew that you’d be bothered relentlessly if you didn’t head down in time. 

“Men,” Hermione chuckled lightly as she pulled her jumper on over her head. “They’re really children at heart.”

“You could say that again,” you rolled your eyes, “they don’t know when to stop.”

“Hey!” Ron interjected. “You can’t go generalizing like that, it’s not fair.”

“I second that,” Charlie spoke up, “it’s not fair.”

The entire family was already gathered around by the time you came downstairs; the large pile of presents that had been under the tree now moved to the center of the room. You made it your mission to ignore the way Fred’s hair was all messy from having just woken up moments prior, and the way he ran his hand through it, which only messed it up even further. It was infuriating that he looked good without trying, and it was even more infuriating that his cocky self just knew and had now caught you staring. 

He sent you a wink and patted the empty spot next to him on the couch. Conveniently enough everyone else had already sat down, leaving you no choice but to sit by his side (But were you really complaining, though?). 

“Happy Christmas, everyone,” Mrs. Weasley beamed brightly, clasping her hands together, “since we’re all here and awake now, let’s get started. We’ll go in a circle, and each pick something from the pile—Arthur, why don’t you go first.”

Any lingering frustration or bad moods had lifted the moment Mr. Weasley presented the first gift, which happened to be addressed to Fleur, from you. She unwrapped the package to reveal the skincare set that you knew she’d been eyeing for ages—it was from when you’d gone on a day trip to Paris together and she caught sight of it in the department store, and talked about it nonstop until you went to get dinner.

Fleur let out a small squeal and immediately came over to embrace you, “Thank you! I ‘ave been looking for zis for ages but couldn’t find it anywhere else! How did you get your hands on it?”

You and Bill exchanged a quick look, “I have my ways.”

She gratefully kissed your cheek and patted your head, “Thank you so much. I will be using it every day.”

Before long, everyone was drowning in their own pile of presents. One of your favorites had to have been the one that Bill and Charlie worked on together: they gifted you a hand-crafted obsidian dagger, which Charlie explained took months of convincing the goblins to make, but was worth it in the end. (He left out the part where they’d half-threatened Griphook with two dragons, of course.)

“Wait, Fred, you still haven’t given Y/N your gift!” Hermione pointed out. “Come on, stop staring and give it to her!”

“Huh, what—” Fred quickly snapped out of his momentary daze, blinking a few times and reaching behind himself, holding a small box in his hands. “Right, Y/N, this is for you—”

“If this is another box of mistletoe,” you began as you turned to fully face him, “I’ll punch you—”

“It’s not, I promise. But,” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice, trying to hide the slight nervousness in his tone, “can we head outside? I was planning on giving it to you to open privately, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, sure…” you were a bit confused at this but got up with him anyway. 

“You hurt her and I’ll hex you,” Ginny warned as he held the front door open for you, hand beginning to reach for her wand. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

A gentle breeze blew through the air, carrying with it the musical sound of the wind chimes overhead. You breathed in deep as you sat down on the doorstep next to Fred, wringing your hands out—for whatever reason you were nervous, and you usually weren’t nervous around him. Maybe it was the cold December air or the fact that you had an irregular sleep schedule that gave you occasional migraines, you didn’t know…

“You okay?” he gently bumped your shoulder with his. “You’ve got something to open, remember?”

“Oh…yeah…”

Fred eyed you carefully as you undid the pale blue ribbon and unwrapped the small package, opening the box. Nestled amongst soft velvet was a pearlescent, heart-shaped locket outlined in glowing gold. For the first time since you met you were at a loss for words, which was strange given that you always knew what to say and were often quick to reply with something equally sharp-witted and sarcastic to match his energy. 

“Open it,” he urged, and you just barely heard him over your rapid heartbeat, popping the locket open with shaky hands. Inside was a tiny moving image of the two of you together by the Black Lake, ear-splitting grins on your faces as you sat on his shoulders and his hands tightly clutched yours, trying to keep you from falling off. You remembered how Harry was laughing so hard that the camera shook and Hermione had to help him steady it before he took the shot. 

He smiled softly at you. “Not mistletoe, like I promised. What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” you exhaled, gazing up at him, “I love it.” I love you.

“About the mistletoe, though…” Fred continued, “you’re probably wondering why we got caught under it so much.”

“Funny enough, I was going to ask,” you said, looking back down and watching him trace slow patterns into your palm. “How is it that it kept catching just us? As if it was following us around…” 

“Because it was,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“So you’re saying…”

“I bewitched them to do that, of course. Just like…” he lightly snapped his fingers, causing a bundle to appear over your heads, “...this. I thought that making excuses to get you under the mistletoe would get you to realize how I felt but Merlin, you didn’t catch on at all.” 

You sucked in a breath. “I don’t get it. W-what do you mean—”

“I’m bloody in love with you, Y/N, what other girl would I willingly try and kiss five times in a row?” he shook his head, cheeks flushed a bright pink both from his blush and the icy breeze, “You really thought I’d care that much about an old holiday ‘tradition?’ I only cared about you, and I still do. That isn’t going to change.”

Then he gently brushed your hair to the side to clasp the necklace on; once he was done, he lifted his hand and placed it against the side of your face, thumb skimming over your cheekbone in a gentle motion. He brought you in close and connected your lips together, sending a searing heat through your body like an all-consuming wildfire and it was utterly intoxicating. And it wasn’t fast or terrifying in the slightest bit—it was slow, steady; just like the way you fell in love with him.

He tilted your chin up just the slightest bit to deepen the kiss, and you felt like you were going to explode. The world was spinning but you had come to a standstill, the feeling of your lips moving in sync and his warm hands keeping you tethered to the rocky earth. 

You couldn’t help the grin that crept up your face when you pulled back for air. Leaning forward and resting your chin against his shoulder, you let out a breathy laugh, holding him tight around the torso. Maybe you were quite oblivious for taking until Christmas Day to realize your best friend fancied you, but at least you got something (well, multiple things, really) out of it—which neither of you were complaining about. 

“I take it that it went well, then?” a voice sounded out from behind you both. “Did it work?”

“Merlin’s saggy beard, Georgie, the love of my life and I were having a moment,” Fred groaned quietly, and you too would’ve been equally embarrassed except all your brain seemed to focus on were the words, love of my life, and repeat it over and over inside your head.

“You were in on this too?”

“How could I not be?” George winked, “when your idiot of a twin brother won’t fess up, someone’s got to step in and help.”

The rest of Christmas zipped by in a flash—nothing really changed, asides from the fact that Fred’s hand now remained on yours at all times except for when you were eating or went to go wash up and change.  

And no more rogue mistletoe appeared above you in hallways or doorways of any kind, but Fred still waited patiently on the other side, hoping to steal another kiss or two.  

(And he did, of course.)

tags: @lizzyrose200 @4ngeltrumpettt @laniirackssss @xhanthexzoria @gemofthenight

[odileeclipse]

Choosing Her

Pure Vanilla X Reader angst (I wanted to hurt my feelings)

And when it’s all said and done, it wasn’t you he skipped class with. His eyes held that softness in them always. But when he looked at her, his eyes were all knowing. The look exchanged between them had always said more than the words exchanged. While you stood at the sidelines hoping that if you stayed just a second longer he’d look at you this time.

“Pure Vanilla, please be careful, you shouldn’t skip out on class so much…I-I can’t keep covering for you. I think the professor is going to find out.” You pleaded with him selfishly. While your reasons for wanting him to not skip, your real motivation was stopping him from being with white lily. Pure Vanilla looked conflicted. He furrowed his brow but ultimately sighed out and said “Don’t cover for me anymore (y/n) cookie, it’s not fair to ask you to hold my burden I’ll deal with it” He said to you with that compassionate voice. You wanted to scream at him to let him know how selfish he was being to you. But at the end of the day he doesn’t owe you anything, and yet still extends his kindness to you. “Pure Vanilla, please don’t go, we shouldn't go looking for answers that aren’t given to us. Forgive me for crossing a line but don’t you think her hunger for knowledge is insatiable? Once White lily finds out whatever truth she’s looking for do you think she’ll stop there?” Your words held resentment towards white lily cookie, sure white lily was a dear friend to you and you’d love and support her. But jealousy is an ugly monster tainting the depths of your heart. Pure Vanilla’s usual serene face faltered. Before he could say anything you spoke up. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, stay safe, Pure Vanilla and please don’t do anything rash.” You said with a soft smile. ”Or I’ll have to come save you and white lily”.

That was the last time you spoke with him in an attempt, to get him to understand. Even after the academy was left behind in its ruins, you still thought him a fool to search for her. But in your heart, he was your fool. When you heard rumors of Pure Vanilla founding a kingdom, you felt relief. Perhaps he and white lily hadn’t settled down and you still had a chance. But again, your hope was crushed in front of you, there she was white Lily standing next to Pure Vanilla as he received his title. You thought about turning around when that familiar comforting voice called to you. “(y/n) cookie! I’m so glad you made it…I thought you were upset with me. I was hoping that by extending my invitation to all my friends you too would be here. My dearest friend, how have you been?” He said clutching your hands together, this made you forget your jealous heart and you smiled radiantly as you used to all those years ago. When you still had the hope he might be yours. Of course, reality hit harder than a derailed train. “You’re being unfair to me again” those words came out as a whisper meant for your ears rather than his. How dare we clasp his hands around yours, when he didn’t belong to you. And if it was kindness he was offering, you didn’t want it. Not like this. “Sorry I didn’t quite catch that, well regardless how have you been holding up, I’ve heard you acquired your own Kingdom.” That’s right in the time away from him, you built a kingdom from nothing making it’s walls tall and high. To hide the love you hold, but those walls crumble fast when you see his gleaming eyes. You acquired the light of patience. A virtue you’ve always held, waiting and waiting hopeful it’ll be you. “Oh yeah my kingdom is my pride and joy, we’ve been able to construct high walls ensuring protection from everything. Of course it’s not without it’s flaws but time will only tell.” You were just rambling, attempting to seem like you had everything in control. “As expected of my dear friend, patient and full of humility” his words only pricked at your heart. A friend is all you’ll be and you’re not sure there’s enough time to heal this wound. “So you and white lily…?” you asked hesitantly. He practically beamed “Actually there is one thing I ask of you, please be at my side when I ask her to be mine. There is no other friend more beloved and fit for the role.” You stared at him with wide eyes feeling tears prick at your eyes. “I-I would love nothing more.” in the stir of emotions you embraced him seeking comfort in the arms that wound you.

A/N Im sorry <3

UPDATE: Pt 2 is up enjoy!!!

[lunajay33]

Protect Me

•🤎🪵🌲🪨•

Summary: Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl, Sam and Dean always tried to protect you but on one hunt the monster takes you and the after math is bad, so they have to call in John

Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister, Dean Winchester x sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl in this family work, I’m only a year younger than Sam but still I felt like a baby compared to them, when Sam went off to school it was just Dean and me and dad took it hard especially on me, he pushed me to work harder all the time and the pressure became overwhelming

Well now he’s missing and it’s just me and my brothers, driving down the interstate to a new mission, this one was a bit out of my league, vampires, they’re strong and I don’t have as much experience with them as Sam and Dean

“Hey you okay back there, you’re pretty quiet” Dean asks as he looks through the rearview mirror

“Oh yeah just nervous”

“Hey we’ll be there the whole time, nothings going to happen to you sis” Sam smiles as he turns back to me

“Do you think we’ll find dad soon?”

“I don’t know kid, soon I hope”

After a bit more driving we made it to the motel and it was time to do some digging on these vampires as Dean came back with take out for supper

“Can I ask you guys something?” I sigh closing a historic book of the town

“Sure what’s up kid” Dean asks as he chows down on a burger

“Do you think dad left because of me?” They both stopped and gave me their full attention

“Why would you say that?” Sam asks giving me his puppy expression

“Well I’m not as good as Dean and he’s been getting more and more angry with me every mission, maybe he just didn’t wanna deal with me anymore, maybe he finally realized I’m just a burden” my bottom lip trembled finally letting out the feelings I’ve been holding in

“Are you nuts? Dad was only being hard because he wanted to make sure you were safe he loves you”

“Yeah you’re his daughter and he’d never leave us like this because of a few mistakes, don’t worry your little head” Sam reach over the table squeezing my shoulder

“Alright” I sigh going back to reading

•

The next day we gathered our supplies and were off to find them finding their small nest was camped out somewhere in the woods, we got out of the impala on a dirt road, getting our weapons ready

“Okay make sure you stay alert, watch eachothers back” Dean states and we start out into the darkening woods

My heart was beating so fast that’s all I could hear, walking behind Dean with Sam behind me, when a cry comes from up ahead and we’re sprinting towards it carefully but not quiet enough

I feel myself being thrown across the damp forest floor until a tree smashed against my back and I’m crumbling on the ground in pain

“Y/N!” Dean and Sam scream as they run towards me but they stop when I’m pulled up from behind by my throat my feet dangling above the ground

“Dean” I gasp as the air burns in my lungs and my vision blurs

“You leave us alone and leave town” the vampire states

“Oh not a chance we’re gonna kill every single one of you” that only angered it as it took my arm and effortlessly snapped it like a twig, I scream wailing in pain

“I won’t ask again”

“Fine fine we’ll go, just stop hurting her” Sam called out desperate

“If you come back again, she’s dead” the vampire hissed before throwing me to my brothers feet and it was gone

My arm felt like it’s been set on fire, my throat hurt so much I could barely breath, my back felt like a thousand knives had been ripping me open

I whine in pain as Sam picks me up, crying into his chest as they run back to the car frantic

“Just hold on we’re going to the hospital you’ll be fine” Sam says as he gently lays me in his lap in the back of the car as Dean puts his foot pedal to the metal driving so fast it was almost nauseating

The pain was all consuming I just want to close my eyes

“Hey you gotta stay awake” Sam says shaking me gently but the darkness took me and I was out

•

The beeping woke me up, opening my eyes to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the monitor and the hallway

I try to sit up but gasp from the pain, noticing my arm in a cast and a brace around my neck, immediately Sam and Dean woke up from where they were sat in the chairs

“Hey you’re awake how do you feel?” Dean asks as Sam pushes my hair back

I open my mouth trying to answer but nothing comes out except a whine, my throat felt like a machete had been sliced through it as we would a vampire

“Can you talk?” Sam asks worried

I try again but nothing, I shake my head defeated and scared, scared they see I really am useless and they’ll leave me behind, the anxiety is all consuming and I know they can tell I’m upset

“Come on let’s get you back to the motel, just be gentle” they helped me sit up slowly placing me in the wheelchair and wheeling me out to the impala

When we get back to the motel I hobble over to the bathroom my back on fire as I slowly take off the neck brace, revealing the black and blue that covered the entirety of my throat , my eyes red from the burst blood vessels, lifting my shirt I turn seeing my back in the same condition also covered in cuts

“Oh sis, I’m so sorry” Sam came in seeing everything, I pull my shirt back down and make my way over to my bed Dean helping me lay down

“Can we get you anything? I’ll go out and get your favorite food” I reach out and grip his necklace and he knew what I meant he sighed and nodded, we all knew it probably wouldn’t work he hasn’t been answering calls so why would he this time

Dean picked up his phone and called I could faintly hear the voice mail if grown accustom to

“Dad it’s y/n she’s really hurt, she needs you, please if you get this this would be the time to show up” he closed his phone and sat next to me rubbing my leg

“It’ll be okay, you’ve still got us Angel” I nodded before drifting off to sleep again

My dreams are consumed by every hunting mistake I’ve made, everytime dad was mad at me, everytime I let them all down I wake up with a gasp again when I hear the front door slam open, I slowly sit up feeling my shirt rid up and that’s when I hear him, the voice I’ve missed so much

“Oh my baby girl” he comes around the bed and kneels infront of me, taking in my horrific beat up body

“The vampire it got a hold of her before we even saw it” Sam said

“I…..” that’s all I could get out before I was aching with pain keeling over as the waves of pain rolled over me

He took my shoulders and held me close

“This is why I’ve always been so hard on you, cause see you like this kills me, I promised your mother I’d never let anything bad happen to you” he sighed

At least they were all here now

“Maybe she needs to take a break for a while” Dean intervened

“Yeah and I’m not leaving till your better” I nodded feeling a little more relieved finally having my family back together

[white-poppie]

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ⎯⎯⎯ s.gojo x fem!reader (part 3/3)

SYNOPSIS — Your life was a mausoleum of sickening memories until light found you again at the end of the bleak tunnel, peering through his big cerulean eyes. Spitfires vanishing till you found your everlasting effervescent flame. And that's how it ends, because you still have your youth.

💿 — Mia and Sebastian's theme from La-la land

TW —breastfeeding, pregnancy, post-partum, grief, loss, crying (obv), jealousy.

WC — 5k

Series masterlist Moon Child ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Now playing: Part 3

“Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.” He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remain.

The next few minutes go by Satoru holding you to his chest, silently as you sob. Now he’s sitting in the front seat of his car, the tinted windows drawn up as he regardless looks outside cautiously while you feed a hungry Tsukiko.

Satoru’s gaze falls to rear mirror, his eyes briefly catching your tender expression when you look at Tsuki as she stays latched to you and an inexplicable warmth erupts in his chest. He cranks up the AC silently, noticing you’re sweating a bit while feeding her.

You can’t help but smile as he turns up the AC, he notices these little things, the things Suguru should have been here for.

You sigh and lean on the headrest of the car, the smell of the faux leather making your head pound harder after crying. Tsuki suckles with soft whimpers, her face covered by your t-shirt. "It’s strange isn't it?" You murmur. "You are doing few of things Suguru was supposed to be doing for his daughter..."

He’s quiet for a long moment before he finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s his loss. He missed out.”

You look out of the window, tears pricking in your eyes yet again. Your eyes burn from crying, yet it seems as though gotten used to it, gotten yused to the uncomfortable warmth of excessive tears burning down your eyes.

You tell yourself you’ve gotten immune to heartbreak but image of Suguru tenderly holding Tsuki. His eyes filled with so much regret and pain like he would turn around everything if he could. It’s burned in your head. “I’m so tired, Satoru…” you whisper.

He’s quiet as he listens to you speak, his heart breaking as he hears the way your voice cracks again and how your words carry such a sense of exhaustion and pain, like you’ve been carrying burden that no one could understand. You’re not the same person that you were when you were just shy of seventeen. You’re not the same girl that he used to know at sixteen and he knows that better than anyone else..

"I feel so lost- I no longer know what I am working for. There is this anger that bubbles in me, This vile feeling of resentment towards everyone, everything...hell sometimes even towards Tsuki." You choke, "I feel so selfish for thinking all this when I have a sweet daughter. I hate myself that sometimes my mind conjures up this feeling of anger and blames this little girl who has no fault. I love her so much, but I can't help these sudden feelings."

His heart aches at the way you blame yourself, it all just feels so unfair. It feels…cruel. He can do nothing but sit here and listen to you talk it all out because you so clearly feel suffocated like you’re drowning.

"When he told me he was leaving the Jujutsu society. It felt as though my heart was being ripped apart, like I would stop breathing without him. I dug my nails into him. Clung to him that entire night. I got a call from Shoko in the morning when he had gone rogue and filled so many people. I wanted to rip my skin apart yet not wash the flesh he had touched" You sob viscerally, lowering your head in shame.

At times, it felt like you were living a bitter love song. Penelope unthreading the tapestry, grieving, loyal to gone Odysseus. Yet, ambivalent. Somedays, you unthread the tapestry, other days you beg Artemis to end it instead.

He can’t stop the feeling of pure agony bubbling in his chest, his throat dry. Your grief feels so real. So tangible. You’ve lost yourself to him. A part of you must have still been hoping he would come back, as foolish as that hope was. He reaches out to gently take your hand in his. “It’s okay…it’s not your fault.”

You gulp, wiping your tears with your trembling hands upon realising Tsukuba is done feeding, you fix your shirt, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. Her litttle features relaxed into a blissful expression after having her fill, her pouty pink lips making you smile despite your sorrows.

“Can I hold her?” Satoru asks suddenly hesitantly. The corners of his eyebrows upturned and furrowed almost adorably.

"You are asking as if you weren't the first one to hold her in the hospital." You croak out humourlessly and hand her to him and shift in the front seat beside him.

His face softens as a small smile spreads across his lips and he gives off a quiet breathy chuckle as he sees the way your shoulders soften and the small, weary smile that spreads across your face as you hand him the baby. His eyes are so gentle and loving as he carefully takes Tsuki and cradles her against his chest. The way he’s holding her, it’s so natural - as if he was born to be a father.

Your heart feels so heavy at the scene. Its supposed to be Suguru...Its supposed to be Suguru holding Tsukiko, not Satoru. But there's this swell of affection when you look at him cradle her. She's so loved...

"She looks so tiny against you." You whisper, The way they look like yin and yang makes your breath hitch. Tsuki with her black her and eyes and Satoru with his white hair and blue eyes. Suguru and Satoru—Yin and Yang—the strongest sorcerers.

His lips quirk up in a soft smile as he gently pulls Tsuki just a bit closer to his chest, his hand gently wrapping around the back of her head in a tender hold. “She really is a tiny little thing, isn’t she?” he whispers right back as he continues to softly stroke his hand across her back. “She’s so precious and fragile, like a baby bird.”

“”It’s both a blessing and a curse that she looks exactly like him.” You whisper looking at his strong arms hold the baby.

Satoru looks at you, her eyes softening with a mix of pity and affection for the child in his arms. “She really is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”

Your shoulders relax you take in a shaky breath, your head pounding like a those drums from from Physical education classes that banged rhythmically. Sighing you raise your legs up to your chest and lean the seat back.

The sight of you curled up in the passenger seat of his car, the car which, you’ve just about proclaimed as your property is so domestic to him that it hurts a little bit. “You’re tired,” he says softly as he continues to cradle Tsuki against his chest.

"Mhm." You nod as you look at him, eyes fluttering. "You should give her here or you won't be able to drive."

He lets out a sigh as he reaches over to gently buckle her into her baby carrier against you. His breath stutters as his fingers brush against your arms and he finds himself gazing into your eyes before gulping and drawing back.“She’s just so tiny and cute and precious, I just don’t want to let her go.” He mutters, his voice slightly deeper than intended.

You chuckle and carefully cradle her neck so she’s leaning against your chest "She's a very charming little girl." You press a kiss to her forehead.

He watches silently as your breaths even out in a semi- lucid state before he whisper to himself in response. “Just like her pretty mama.” He utters and starts to drive to your house.

The smell in the car is saccharine, your vanilla perfume, and the oddly sweet smell that comes from babies; combined with a heady mix of breast milk and baby products.

Tsukiko and you are settled and curled into his front seat as if you belong here. It's so natural. To think Satoru is being the haven Suguru could never be, he's picking up cracks of you shattered, broken heart; you don't know what to call it, but it feels right. Unclear, whether it’s pity or friendship that makes him care so much for the girl and the kid his best friend abandoned.

You arrive back at you place as he helps you out of the car. You look at Satoru with heavy eyes, "Come in, I'll make tea." you say with a tired smile.

Initially, he thinks of rejecting, yet seeing your swollen red eyes and that weary slouch of your shoulder blades; he surrenders.

The little apartment that's less of a home but a sanctuary, its a cute tapestry of memories. Baby products are neatly kept, such as cribs, baby toys, polaroids of the baby, plants, and, in progress, a crochet baby hat on the couch and adorable little trinkets around.

But to you, as night comes it becomes a glum, cold sanctuary for the most part-- filled with reminders of Suguru. Everywhere. His large shoes were on the front door, his coat was on the rack, his picture with me was on the fridge, and his cologne was on the dresser. Almost everything of his is untouched the way it was, despite everything, you don't have the strength to throw out his things the same way he threw you out of his life.

The more his gaze lingers, his mind immediately drifts to the last time he came here; when Suguru was in your life. The house reeks of his memories. The place doesn’t look like a home, it looks like a museum that’s dedicated to the relationship you had with Suguru, almost like a shrine. The longer he looks at it, the more his chest aches. When he speaks, it comes out as a barely audible whisper. “Y/N...”

"Hmm?" You mutter slowly, tucking Tsuki in her crib. You walk back into the kitchen, your house sandals dragging across the marble flooring.

“Can I just…hug you for a second?” he whispers.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, pausing midway while putting the pan on the stove. "Where did that come from?" You ask confused, but your voice softens immediately, turning into a whisper by the end of the sentence.

"I just…want to hug you right now.” he says in a tender, whispery voice. “You look like you need it.”

You gulp, keeping the pan down and wrapping your arms around him he leans down, his arms wrapping around your waist. A shaky breath leaves your throat at how warm he feels, your throat constricting and nose and cheeks feeling warmer. You close your eyes, a silent tear rolling down your cheek.

His arms slowly snake around your waist as he wraps you in, pulling you to his chest, cradling your soft, exhausted body and holding you against his larger, firm form. His eyes close as he feels you shaking in his arms, his embrace so tender that it hurts. “It’s okay,” he whispers softly to you. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Your chest aches at how comforting his embrace feels. You are suddenly reminded of the way Suguru used to hug you- but for the first time, I push the thought of Suguru away quickly. It’s Satoru in front of you, not Suguru.

"I’ve got you,” he murmurs right up against your ear. “I’ve got you.” He lifts his hand to brush his fingers across your hair, his fingers running across your scalp.

You feel my heart beat faster inexplicably as you raise your head up to look at him. “Satoru, I need your help.” You whisper out as you gulp, briefly closing your eyes.

“Help me…help throw his things away please, I don’t have the strength to do it alone. it’s so haunting." You choke, "I want to move on, I want get better, in a more stable mental place for Tsuki, and I can’t do that with these reminders of him everywhere…” You vent out in one breath.

“You really…want to throw away all of his things?” He asks, his voice a mix of hurt, and relief.

“No.” You reply immediately, “but what other way is there? I don’t want Tsuki to grow up with me being an emotional wreck over a man who abandoned us."

Your eyes fall over to the tiny toddler in the crib, unable to peel your eyes from the beautiful girl.

"I want to keep everything of his, to look at them and grieve for a man who’s alive. I want to keep that damn scarf of his, I don't have the strength to remove his picture from my wallpaper, and his pillow that I sprayed with his perfume and hugged to sleep during pregnancy because his smell calmed me during morning sickness. It’s pathetic I know…but how long am I going to hold on?” You choke up, tears rolling down my eyes.

He feels his breath hitch at your words. He slowly lowers his head to rest his forehead gently against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in slowly and trembles slightly as he gently pulls you into him, his breath trembling and catching in his throat again. “Oh, Y/N,” he whispers in a voice broken with emotion. “Oh sweetheart…”

For a second he wants to gather all of Suguru's things and keep them for himself on the other hand he wants to shatter everything. He's been like the same paradoxical situation as you, day in and day out. He's been a hypocrite. Telling you to move on when he could not get over his best friend. The only person he could ever confide in without being superficial, the only one who cared.

He's aching, just as much as you are. And he aches even more to see his first love so terribly broken apart by his best friend.

"I want us to heal, 'Toru." You mutter. "All of us: Me, you and Shoko. Of course the pain can never truly be gone, but we can't let our lives stagnant like this." You whisper, cupping his face in your palms, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare into his cerulean eyes.

He feels his heart skip several beats in his chest as he feels your soft, warm palms gently cupping his face, your eyes peering into his. He takes in a slow, shuddery breath and swallows again in an attempt to get rid of the aching feeling in his chest - the aching he feels for you.

His eyes glance over towards the crib, seeing the small infant that ties you to his best friend in the most undeniable way that he could never possibly compete, yet she draws him and you closer than ever. From the day he laid his eyes on her, he loved her.

He raises his hand slowly and gently rests it over one of the ones that are cupping his face, his fingers intertwining with yours. He holds your gaze for a long moment in silence, just trying to calm the thundering of his heart in his chest. He let his feelings sit in the backseat when you and Suguru started dating. It hurt, but the ache soon simmered and he accepted reality, he knew his feelings had never left and yet it didn't feel hard to think otherwise. Hell, he was ready to be Suguru's best man. He's finally letting himself be selfish.

"Toru," You breathe out shakily, unsure why you uttered his name like so. This feels like the precipice, the intermission of the movie of your life, right at the climax. These inexplicable feelings brewing in your heart are so heavy. You feel guilty, for letting yourself feel this way, for letting yourself move on-- to develop an affection beyond friendship for Suguru's best friend and your friend.

His heart skips a beat at the way you breathed out his name like so. It almost sounds like a plea, almost like a desperate beg. Toru. It never felt this good, never felt this right, for you to say his name like that. It's so good to hear the way his name sounds when it leaves your lips, your lips that he has never once touched.

His throat aches as he leans down and captures your lips against his own he's wanted this for so long. For so so long he's ached for you. Satoru knows its wrong, you're both vulnerable, but he feels like he would break and sob like a child if he doesn't embrace you. If he can't love you. Its physically impossible for him to control his affection anymore. His nose is red, eyes burning.

A gasp leaves you as you freeze, your fingers clenching into fists. You stand unable to react, frozen still. Your heart beats in a sickly rhythm at the confusion swirling in your chest.

He swallows thickly and instantly pulls back, his eyes wide as he looks into your shocked expression. He takes in a shuddery, shaky breath. He's a idiot, he's an absolute idiot. He knows you don't feel that way about him, knows you're still broken over Suguru, and yet he still kissed you.

"I-" You stutter, your heart shattering at his slightly red eyes. "I'm...I'm sorry..." You breathe out, unable to utter anything else. You want to pull him in again, to kiss him with the same tenderness. His glassy eyes make you sick, but you are not sure you can do this to him, not when you are so conflicted about your feelings...he deserves better than that.

He shakes his head adamantly, his hands trembling slightly as he gently reaches up to place them on your shoulders to keep you at a distance. He doesn’t want your pity. He can’t take your pity.

"You don’t—" Satoru whispers shakily, his eyes still burning. "You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Please, don’t pity me because I feel this way for you."  

"I don't-- I don't pity you 'Toru, not a bit. But you are not a replacement, I never want you to feel like that. I am- there is so much to heal in my heart, I don't think I can love anymore. I am so damn scared after all that I went through." You breathe out reaching to him hesitantly. "You deserve better than whatever mess I am right now."

His heart shatters even more as he feels the way that you demean yourself so harshly - you have no idea how much you're worth. You have no idea how many times he's had to restrain himself from kissing you, holding you, loving you - so many times he's had to tell himself that he has no right to try and love someone that's not his. But his heart is a fragile, weak thing in the face of your sorrow.

"Your daughter needs you," he whispers, his voice cracking a bit. "You're amazing.

“Would you give me time to heal Toru? For myself? For Tsuki? Maybe even for us.” You whisper with a soft voice. “I want to reclaim myself, I’ve lost that ambitious girl somewhere, I want to get her back before I can ever try to find love again.”

.

6 months pass by in a blink of an eye, wasn't she born yesterday? Tsuki's already 8 months old, its a bittersweet feeling. Yet somehow when you think of the times your blood used to run cold when someone mentioned Suguru when you trying to heal; it reminds you how long the year really was.

Those six months were a lifetime for you and Satoru too. He was there all along, for you and Tsuki. He watched you grow and change - every day, every moment, he witnessed the way you healed and slowly came back to yourself. And with each day that passed, the more that he found himself completely and hopelessly in love with you.   

You smile, wrapping the scarf around Tsuki as she sits in her stroller, wide-eyed, observing her mama dressed up differently. A red, velvet a line dress. It feel so weird to wear old clothes again, like watching yourself in your middle school yearbook pictures, cringing at how you looked, but feeling warm as you remember how truly happy you were.

You gulp, fixing your hair for the nth time, waiting for Satoru to pick you. You roam nervously in the apartment, wound like a spinning top and you jump when the bell rings.

You quickly walk up to the door, there he stands in his glory, in a tailored Italian suit, an Armani watch, his fluffy white hair parted at the side with a bouquet of peonies in his nimble hands.

And he freezes just as you do, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing up and down trying ti muster, suave words of praise, but nothing leaves his starstruck self.

“You look so handsome, Toru.” You say fondly.

He slowly holds out the bouquet of peonies for you as his eyes scan over you again. His voice feels weak, barely a whisper as he speaks to you. "Look who's talking."

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You say taking a sniff of the fragrant flowers. Your heart feels warm, despite the chill in the air; warm toasted bread with sweet milk tea in the sheets, an odd sense of euphoric comforting.

"Just beautiful things for a beautiful woman."  He says, finally with his flirtatious grin which causes you to roll your eyes.

You chuckle and look over at Tsuki. “Let’s wait for Shoko” It’s the first time she’d be away from you, she’s too small, too tiny, it makes you anxious for her to be anywhere except in front of your eyes. This is the first time you've ever been apart from the infant who's been attached to your hip since she was born.

"Shoko's a doctor, she'll take good care of her. It's just for a few hours, sweetheart."  He says, interrupting your thoughts.

Soon enough, the bell rings, and the tired woman makes her way in. You go over the same things, same scenarios multiple times until you feel relieved and Shoko on the other hand, exasperated.

"And for the love of god don't smoke around her," you say and finally hug her. "Thank you for doing this Shoko."

Shoko freezes as you suddenly hug her; for a moment, she feels as though her eyes are getting bleary after seeing you smile so brightly after so long. "All good..." She murmurs, unknowingly tightening her grip around you.

"Let's go," you whisper to Satoru, holding out your hand. For a few seconds, he just stands still, unable to form a coherent emotion at the sight of your hand extended to reach his. Gulping he intertwines his large fingers into your palm. the path to his car feels sacred, intimate; he feels as though he's holding you as you walk down the aisle to him. It's an exaggerated, delusional reverie that makes his chest all tight.

The ride towards the restaurant is mostly silent, with you looking out the window and watching as the world passes by like a blur. Satoru steals a few quick glances at you every now and then as he drives, feeling the familiar ache in his chest everytime he looks at you in your beautiful, beautiful red dress.

"You look beautiful, you know that?" He whispers, his voice hushed almost as if he's afraid if he speaks too loudly, the moment will be shattered.  

Your eyes soften at his reverential tone, you tilt my head, staring at him. "You've told," you answer. "But I like hearing you say it."

"I'll say it till you get sick of it," he says with a soft chuckle, his bright cerulean eyes undoing all defenses, all inhibitions. They shine so bright, like stars.

"I don't think I can ever get sick of it," You whisper. It's peaceful, you realise. Not the wild, passionate sort of love you experienced with Suguru, where the flame was brightest before it blew. But this feels like a soft light, whispering in the dark, ebbing the strongest shadows away. It draws you in like a moth to flame. This tender light ignites my very being from the dull, colourless life you were trapped in. You never realised that what you wanted was warmth; you hunted it in a spitfire, but found it in an everlasting flame.

His heart skips a beat at your soft, but honest words. The car slows down as the light turns red, and he takes the opportunity to take a good a long look at you. You are sirenesque, it takes his breath away. He finds himself leaning closer, red lights of the signal reflecting off his face. The soft jazz he put to sound fancy is all static under your gaze. He is all static under your gaze.

Both of you flinch as a car behind you honks, pulling the two of you out of your reverie. You realise the light has already turned green and clear you throat.

He lets out a soft sound before he starts driving again, looking ahead at the road to distract himself from the way his heart still pounds in his chest.

The restaurant comes into view as he parks the car with a sigh. 

You smile as he helps you out of the car. It's a fancy restaurant, the kind you'd see in old Hollywood movies where the main characters take the heroine and a cute song starts playing. You wait for your orders, and there's an awkward silence; neither of you speak for a while. A mix of embarrassment and nervousness blended in with being clueless about what to talk about.

"So...I was thinking," he begins, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he fiddles with his fingers. There is a moment of hesitation as he looks up at you for a second, his heart skipping a beat at your calm expression. He gulps and decides to say it, his words leaving him in a low murmur - barely above a whisper. "Wanna dance?"

"Dance?" You question your eyes fluttering in confusion as you look around and then back at him as if to question, 'here?'

He nods as his nervousness melts away into a small, genuine, bashful smile as he stands up and gently extends his hand towards you from across the table. "Yeah...dance." He mutter, his heart feeling a bit lighter at your innocent question.

He looks at the small dance floor in the restaurant, not even a whole dozen couples dancing on it. "Just one song." 

"Alright, until the food comes in." You smile tenderly and take his hand as the two of you walk to the small wooden flooring. You look up at him as he wraps his hand on your waist, another interlacing with yours. And the song plays, ironically enough, Mia and Sebastian's theme from Lalaland, and you roll your eyes. it's a fancy restaurant; they should at least play jazz or something. Nonetheless, you sigh and just look into his cerulean eyes, and your heart pounds in your ribcage.

He can't stop the way that a small chuckle leaves him at your eye roll. He is in utter bliss in this moment, being so much closer, so much more intimate than he'd been with you in ages: everything around them feels so surreal.

You two dance at first, for a few minutes, a sophisticated pair dance before the two of you just sway, eyes peering intently into each other. The light is dull, dim, centered just at the floor, but nothing shines brighter than his hopeful, loving eyes, and you can't help but feel like you are melting as he holds you in, swaying to the music.

He holds onto you as tightly as he can, his eyes never leaving yours, his breaths growing more labored with each passing second. He can't help but be utterly enamored by you. He can just barely hear his own voice over the sound of his own rapidly beating heart. "I love you." 

Your eyebrows furrow at his admission again, and you can't help but huff out a fond chuckle. He's so sincere, despite all, despite how torn you were, despite how you had hurt everyone, including yourself. He's been there. He's been there and made you realise you don't have to beg for someone's love. It's not transactional as it was with Suguru. "I've made you wait for so long, haven't I?" You whisper, your eyes a little bleary looking at him.

The corners of his eyes crinkle with your huffed chuckle. He smiles softly as you speak, his hand on your waist gently caressing your body lovingly. He smiles and reaches his hand up to caress your soft cheek, gently stroking your skin with the rough pads of his fingers.

"Forever." He mutters, his own eyes slightly glossing over as he looks at you. "You could've made me wait forever, and I still would've waited."

You wrap your arms tighter around him and lean up to kiss him, eyes fluttering close. He tastes like mint; its sweet, and it soothes you so. You let out a shaky breath, and he leans in and kisses you tenderly at first, but then with an adolescent vigour that has you dipping in his arms.

You can't help but giggle at his excitement, somehow, the sound gets him to tone it down, tender and soft, his fingers shaky. You part away to breathe and chuckle fondly. "You've got lipstick on your lips." You shake your head and wipe his lips clean.

"We still have a dance to finish," You say as I keep your hand back on his shoulder, and start to sway, laughing as he spins you around

Outside the restaurant after a late night tussle of the girls begging for icecream and him giving in, Suguru walks with Nanako and Mimiko. Their little hands holding the ice cream he brought, trying to not make it drip.

"Geto-sama, isn't she the woman in the photo frame?" Mimiko points out cluelessly to through the glass to you and Satoru dancing. A woman she's only ever seen through the photo frame he keeps close to him, fondly smiling at the,mystery woman that the twins love to inquire about.

"Hmm...?"

Suguru looks towards the glass, and it takes a few seconds for him to process what he sees. He sighs. It's hard to breathe, but you look so radiant it's like life is back in you. It's so different from when he last saw you six months ago in the grocery store. You looked like your world was crumbling down; you were tired, depressed and alone with his daughter you gave birth to. "Yeah." He says with a smile, his voice heavy.

"That's her."

He keeps looking at you, his smile still on his face as he stares at the sight of the two of you on the dance floor. He can't explain the feeling he has in his heart: hollow and heavy, a feeling of losing something he had and messed up so terribly. The feeling of watching you fall in love with someone else, while he still is in love with you. 

But this is different. He looks at your smiling face now, and all he can feel is a strange sense of peace. His chest feels tight, an inexplicable pang of nostalgia and loss as he watches you dance with his best friend, but the pain he feels in his chest is replaced with a strange sense of acceptance.

It feels nostalgic, you're dancing with Satoru the way you used to with him, old jazz music playing as you stood on his feet and he swayed you around, sneaking kisses on your soft lips, your arms wrapped around him. But just as he remembers these memories, he is reminded of what become of your relationship.

It hurts like crazy but still doesn't compare to the soul-crushing guilt he felt when he saw your in the grocery store with Tsukiko, the baby of his love that he left unknowingly and despite knowing her existence, he was far too gone to step up. All he can remember is the utter agony you held in your eyes when you stood with that little infant so tired, so terrified. He made you go through hell.

The two of you finally stop with the dance. You glance away for a second and freeze as your eyes fall onto Suguru. Your lips part, feeling these conflicting, wretched emotions of anger and bitterness.

He is stoic before he breaks into a smile, a content, tired smile. The smile you give to someone, a goodbye, a good-luck, a smile of nostalgia and well-wish.

You breathe out as if you feel a burden off you existence, your lips twitching up to a smile too.

He looks at you and then glances at the girls, and something in him just wants to approach and hug you so tightly, ask for forgiveness and stay like this, all of you together again.

And yet, when your lips twitch into a smile at him, he smiles back, lifting up his hand to wave softly before walking away.

Life didn't end when he left, though it seemed like it would. Sometimes, we find escapes closest to us, but grief makes us blind. Satoru and Shoko were there to help, but drowning in the agony of loss you didn't find the strength to reach. The point is, no one can help you, unless you want to help yourself.

And once its over, one day you'll find yourself at crossroads with your past again. And its then you'll have courage to look it in the eye and smile, because that's how it goes:

Aches of present become memories of past:

a testament of Our Youth.

[takusan-no-ai]

Don’t Let the Nom Nom Shark bite

PAIRING: Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Ellen’s boyfriend has horrible insomnia, so she tries her best to help.

Ellen had been dating you for a while. And though she hadn’t had much experience with boys, especially in a romantic sense, she knew you quite well; always paying attention to your likes and dislikes, how you reacted to certain things. That made your change in behavior all the more noticeable. Especially when your health started to decline.

You’d get sleepy during the day. Nothing she’d never done before. But then Ellen noticed the sheer extent of it. The fatigue. The difficulty concentrating whenever she talked to you. Your grades dropping because you had a harder time learning and remembering information. Then she saw how bad your decision making got; you kept taking so many unnecessary risks it was giving her fatigue.

The moment she knew it was something serious was when it started to affect not just your mood but your health. You kept getting into accidents within hollows, and you got sick every other week. Ellen knew that boys were often described as more prone to risk seeking behavior, but she doubted it was intentional on your part. Especially when the injuries left you so anxious and depressed.

Ellen started to mope around at work, her worries for you becoming a burden even for her. Lycaon and Rina asked Ellen what was wrong, and when she explained to situation to them, both came to a single conclusion: you had insomnia. Severely. Thats when it all clicked for her. Ellen could understand how hard it was to stay energized, but to hear that her boyfriend was going through something so difficult. Ellen could feel her tail drooping.

Immediately Ellen started researching how to help your insomnia. Obviously with how bad it was you’d have to visit a doctor, but she still wanted to contribute as much as she could. Because for as listless and idle as she was, Ellen cared a lot about those around her; coworkers, friends, family, and her boyfriend. She may not always show it, but Ellen would gladly put in the extra effort and energy it if meant bringing comfort to others. And that’s exactly what she was going to do for you.

Ellen didn’t want you to have to fight this battle alone. So she began to fight her own sleepiness too. And not with lollipops anymore. She was going to force herself to be strong so you could be too. She wanted to encourage you and help you understand that you weren’t alone in this. Ellen loved you too much to let you take on such a challenge by yourself.

She decided a good point to start at would be exercising, something to keep your mind awake and help you sleep easier at night. The energizing feeling could help with some of your anxiety and make sleep more restful. Plus only spending time in your room to rest could help you mentally strengthen the association between bed and sleep, leading to an improved efficiency.

Naturally Ellen would have to crack down on certain things. For instance, no more coffee! Every time she sees you glancing at Coffe Cafe Ellen drags you away to hang out with her friends; a nice distraction from the temptation. And no screen time close to bed. Nor any daytime naps. She just really wants you to get some quality sleep. Even if all her rules seem overbearing it comes from the heart.

Ellen makes sure you have a consistent sleep schedule, which oftentimes involved her sleeping over. She was nervous at first, sleeping next to a guy, and her giant tail made it hard to make room for each other; you insisted she sleep on the bed and not the floor, else you’d be too stressed about her comfort to sleep. In order to calm each other’s nerves her friends recommended some calming activities as a bedtime routine in the group chat.

You’d both read over the newspaper, take turns having a warm bath, and listen to soothing music to relax. Ellen even brought a humidifier. All of this to ensure that your sleep environment was conducive to rest. Ellen closed the curtains. And you turned off the lights. The room now dark, quiet, cool and comfortable.

In the morning you both wake up to a good nights rest. Well really Ellen wakes up, meanwhile you’re still fast asleep. A calm expression on your face as you slowly breathed in and out. All while cuddling Ellen’s tail—and she has a mini heart attack which causes you to drowsily look up at her In confusion. All the while she covers her flushed face in your pillows.

- Fin