#the melancholy would still hit the same

[pleaseshutupaboutsatou]

Christmas time Tanaka

[apricot-blossomss]

↬ apollo being scared of losing you as he lost all his mortal lovers

↬ hurt/comfort with a fluffy ending, warnings: fear of losing someone, mentions of sex, mentions of nightmares

he was almost too beautiful to bear in his sleep. running a gentle finger over the soft skin of his cheek, you couldn't help but be reminded of the renaissance painting figures, just as frail and untouchable. it made you sad, though you couldn't have named a specific reason for the sudden wave of melancholy that hit you. your hand travelled from his face to his neck, over his shoulders and brushed against his muscular back, but your eyes were still fixed on his face. on the golden locks that gently swayed in the light breeze, the huffing from his pink lips, his long lashes. what did gods dream about? what did your god dream about?

it was only after a few minutes that you found the strength to look away from your lover. as quietly as you could, you slipped out from under the thin covers. there was no need for heavy blankets when you could trust there would always be summer at your residence and you had your own personal heater laying next to you in bed. when your bare feet met the floor, you allowed yourself one quick look back at apollo. the sudden wish to draw him, his sleeping face, his ethereal youthfulness, his incomprehensible beauty and the sun kissed golden locks overcame you. but at the same time, you knew you would never be up to the task. no one would ever be.

you rose from the bed and tip-toed over to the closet to grab a dress to cover your naked body with. the slight wobble in your step served as a reminder of the night before and you felt heat creep up to your face merely thinking about it. you got dressed quickly and hurried out of the bedroom. normally, it was apollo who would be up first, already greeting you with a delicious breakfast and good morning kisses, ignoring your objections because of morning breath. now that you were up first for once, you decided to return the favor.

apollo had added a kitchen to his palace, just for his mortal lover. as a god, he was able to produce foods from his bare hands and ambrosia was always available to him. you being into cooking and baking had been new to him, but he happily indulged in your hobby and supported it, even by altering his own home.

as the kitchen was illuminated by the golden lights of dawn, you got to work to prepare pancakes. stirring the dough, you let your mind wander, and inevitably, it lead you back to last night. the touches of his hands, the kisses, and most importantly, the whispered promises and desperate pleas spoken in the heat of the moment. to have a god worship you like this was possibly the best thing to ever happen to your self-confidence.

just as you were preparing the stove, two warm arms closed in around you like a trap and your defenseless body was pulled back into a warm chest. after a second of panic, you recognized the smell, the breathing pattern, the touch of apollo whose strong arms had you in a tight embrace. with a shuddering breath, the god lowered his face to your neck where you could feel him breathe in your scent. entirely engulfed by his warmth, his taller figure, you had no choice but to pause what you were doing and let him consume you completely.

but immediately, you sensed that something was off. maybe it was instinct, maybe the god and you were connected on a whole other level by now, maybe it was the way his breath shuddered and heaved slightly, the way his fingers curled into your sides a little too much for your comfort. after a failed attempt of turning around to face him apollo didn't even seem to take notice of, you called out his name softly and brought a gentle hand to his face that was still buried in your neck. "love?"

begrudgingly, it seemed, apollo raised his head from your neck and allowed you to turn around in his arms. a tight smile pulled at his lips, but it was missing the radiant shining of his usual ones. he more so seemed like he was in pain and you frowned. "apollo-"

"hm, is my little wife making breakfast for me?" he asked with a forced cheerfulness. apollo loved to call you his wife, even though you weren't married since he was a god and you a mortal. the smile still didn't reach his eyes and your frown deepened. as if he could lie to you. sensing your unease, apollo leaned over comically dramatic to dip his finger into the dough. you knew it was a diversion, and he knew that you knew when you didn't even try to stop him.

"apollo, what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong, silly," he smiled, unnervingly so, still missing the usual sparkle in his golden eyes. "or is there?" gentle, strong arms spun you back around until you were facing your dough and his head dipped once more. there was no way to suppress the goosebumps spreading over your skin when his lips brushed barely along your ear, like a breath, like a memory. "do you have an ache i can tend to my love? how about ... here?" his fingers hovered over your crotch, tips brushing against the fabric of your dress and he smirked at you mischievously like a cat cornering a mouse.

"you can't distract me with sex, my love," you said softly but with a stern undertone. taking a step back and folding your arms over your chest, you took him in completely. golden locks disheveled from slumber, chest bare and decorated with your marks and only a loincloth hiding his crotch. "what's wrong?" you asked again with a pleading tone to your voice. "talk to me, please"

a flash of pain crossed his beautiful eyes and it was such a heart wrenching sight, though just visible for a millisecond, that it knocked the breath from your lungs. "i'm fine," he whispered, but his eyes were fixed at a spot just above your brow. the answer did little to convince you, as it missed the usual extravaganza and poetry and beauty that filled every single one of the phrases that escaped the god of poetry's mouth.

almost tearing up seeing him in distress, you took a step towards him and closed your smaller fingers, still a little stuck with pancake dough, around his spotless, bigger hands. they did their best trying to warm him up. "please," you begged. "let me help you, my love"

"i'm fine," he repeated and lowered his head. you gasped in shock when he fell to his knees on the ground, still holding onto your hands. "you're fine"

now, you weren't that dense and at his words, you immediately sensed what was wrong. bringing your hands from his hands that immediately latched onto your thighs in a desperate need to ground himself, to his face to lift it up. you gave him a gentle smile. "yes, i am. very much alive and very much still human instead of vegetation"

the god let out a dry, heartbroken laugh and now the pain was on full display, twisted his beautiful features and your insides as a dull ache. his eyes wandered over your face, as if in an effort to engrave it into his memory. "you mortals are so fragile. like painted glass in a chapel. pretty, divine, easy to break, and your colors paint me, too, and your shards, they hurt me, make me bleed" his grip on your thighs tightened. "love..."

for a while, there you stood, still and composed like a marble statue. the god at your feet, holding onto your plush thighs, and you hovering over him, trying to breathe from the pain you felt when your love was hurting. "i'm sorry," you finally breathed. neither your brain nor your tongue, that were this flawed compared to your artist, could think of the fitting words, reassurances. "i never meant to- i'm sorry i- and for everyone you lost-"

"you," he whispered and you had to lower your hand a little so your flawed mortal ears could make out the words. seeming close to tears, he angled his head up to expose his eternal pain to you. "i dreamt that i lost you." his hands twitched and he held onto your thighs more tightly. "woke up and you weren't there and for a moment i knew... i just knew you would be gone too, and it would be my fault."

your fingers cradled his face as you tried to remain calm and steady for him. but gods, it was hard when seeing him like this broke your heart as well, pinched your heartstrings painfully and you had to fight the stinging in your eyes. "do you dream about that often?" you asked him softly as your fingertips grazed his cheekbones in an attempt to offer comfort.

"sometimes," he whispered.

never had you seen a god cry. apollos tears had a golden hue to them, like a river at sunset, and you couldn't help it, your vision got blurry as well. you wanted to be strong for him, you really did, but you weren't able to bear this. "forgive me, my love," apollos wept softly and even now, it still was like a melody. "forgive me"

"there is nothing to forgive, darling," you reminded him and crouched down to his level to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "i'm okay. i'm here. and i don't intend to go anywhere anytime soon." a shaky breath, a silenced sob and he returned the embrace, engulfing your body fully. his arms had you in a tight lock, a desperate plea to keep your promise.

for a while, you just sat there on the kitchen floor. breakfast was long forgotten and, embracing each other, you watched the sun's light illuminate the room more with each passing minute. apollo's tears dried up eventually and his fingers began stroking your hair and kneading the plush of your thigh tenderly. after pressing a few kisses to your scalp, he was the first to break the silence. "would you believe me if i told you you are the best thing that ever happened to me?"

"i would find that a little hard to believe, you have lived for over a millennia after all," you smiled and his fingers drummed against your skin in response.

a thoughtful hum rumbled in his chest and his fingers played with the hem of your dress. "looks like i have to make a song to prove my point, then." there was a shift in his tone. this tone, a subtle show of his godly might, had a shiver run down your spine. "not just to you. it will be a composition so great it will stun all of olympus. a tune that will make my father himself melt. a song in exchange for your immortality, my love"

a surprised little gasp left your throat and you looked up from his chest to meet his eyes. they were determined and oh so full of love when he looked down at you, still caged in his arms. the topic of immortality had rarely come up between the two of you, and though you knew you would gladly spent the rest of your life with apollo, you didn't know wether he wanted to commit to you for eternity. too stunned to speak and not able to grasp any of the boiling feelings rumbling inside of you, you could only wrap your arms around his middle once more and hide your face in his chest as you felt the heat creep up your cheeks.

"darling, why are you hiding from me?" you could hear the grin in his teasing voice and begrudgingly looked up at him. finally, your god was smiling again, as radiant as the sun he was. "hm, you do realize i just proposed, don't you?" he asked as he tilted your chin upwards with his index finger.

"are you sure?" you blurted out and he frowned. "sure? of course I'm sure. are you not, lovely? because we can wait. i have time. until you are ready, yeah?"

"i am ready," you insisted, meeting his gaze with the same determination. "it's just... are you sure you want to keep me around for eternity?"

"keep you around?," he repeated and chuckled. seconds later, you found yourself sitting on the counter with the god standing in between your legs, his hands on your waist. "my love, my sunshine, every day for the rest of our immortal lives, i will worship you. i will forever praise the day you let me into your life, never take you for granted. i will always stay true to you and if i should ever wrong you, you may pierce me with my own arrows and throw me into the depths of tartarus."

"Now that's a marriage proposal," you joked to mask your flustered state. "How can I say no to that?" there was a sudden fire burning in his eyes, one that you knew all too well and you had the suspicion that you wouldn't get to finish the pancakes anytime soon.

"it's a yes then?"

[aventurineswife]

hi so I got a question for your sahsrau painter au how would welt or the rest of the express react if the reader painted welt's past for instance when he was still in the hi3 universe

In the SAHSRAU Painter!Reader AU, if the reader—perhaps in a moment of melancholy or emotional overwhelm—painted something they shouldn’t know, like Welt’s past from the HI3 universe, it would hit everyone on the Astral Express like a silent bomb.

Welt

At first, he’s just… still. Silent in a way that makes everyone glance at him, unsure if they should speak. Because this painting—it’s not vague. It’s deeply specific. Maybe it’s of Einstein or Tesla, maybe it shows him standing in front of a burning world, or looking out at the moon that never made it back.

His hands would tremble, just a little. Not out of fear—but out of memory.

“This… this isn’t from your world, is it?” he asks, his voice low, stunned.

He’d kneel by the painting, inspecting every brushstroke like it was evidence from a case long gone cold. There’s a ghost of a smile, and a sadness so deep it could drown someone else.

“No one here knows this part of me. Not even Himeko.”

And then he looks at you (aka breaking the 4th wall), like you’re something holy and terrifying all at once.

“How did you see this?”

The Rest of the Astral Express

Himeko would glance between you and Welt with quiet awe. She's a scientist, sure—but this? This is beyond her realm. Her hand might rest gently on Welt’s shoulder, wordlessly supporting him while quietly being floored by your insight.

March 7th would be more vocal: “Wait—this isn’t a made-up scene?? This is something Mr. Yang actually lived through?”

She’d be confused, a little scared, but also fascinated. Like she’s watching something ancient come back to life.

Dan Heng would watch you with sharper eyes after that. Not suspicious—just... careful. The quiet respect would be deeper now. He’d understand the burden of remembering.

Trailblazer would ask the question everyone’s too scared to: “If you can paint the past… can you paint the future?”

After that, they won’t look at your art the same.

They’ll start wondering:

What else do you know?

Where do your visions come from?

Are they glimpses into other lives? Or do you remember things you shouldn’t?

Welt, especially, would start sitting with you more often while you paint. He wouldn’t always speak—but the weight of his presence would say everything.

“You remind me of someone,” he says one day. “Someone who carried the weight of the world on her back… and still had the strength to create.”

[burdenandacrop]

˗ˏˋ ❝ fickle flame. ❞ ˎˊ˗

submission from 🎂 ! loosely based on the song 'never there' by CAKE ! i love this band so much so the fact i'm writing my second fic based on one of their songs ... consider my autistic brain pleased.

summary : you're busy to say the least, and with that fact; comes along schlatt who is aching for even a minute of your time. scrapping for pieces of you, saying things he probably shouldn't, and yearning incredulously without shame.

⋮ ⌗ ┆established relationship, masturbation, fem reader, he is just really pitiful in this one. like extremely.

the night only seemed to grow colder, not in the sense of temperature though. just with how melancholy was filling into schlatt's mind by the minute, laying on his bed and struck with the annoying sensation that kept coming over him. he missed you terribly, but every single day it was 'i have a meeting', 'overtime', or 'i have an event i have to go to.' never an instance where you could crawl into his arms, something that wished so desperately for. he knows you say you love him, that you'd take the time to show him too. it just felt like a lie to him, he could only deal with so many short calls. dry text messages laced with boredom, as he analyzed every little word that you wrote. wondering, is this where it was going wrong? was he the problem? could he just be incredibly clingy and childish about this matter? was he obsessive? no common sense seemed to hit him though.

it was an absolute bore to work every day and when you were off, having to sport yourself for these extravagant events and doll yourself up to please the company and the guests. hell, you were at one right now. your fingers ready to press so hard into the champagne glass that it shattered. not worth it to make a scene though, just have to stand awkwardly in your dress as the overworked violinist played. they really got to pay that guy more. you sigh and look up to the ceiling, wondering if there was any sort of release from this hell. then suddenly, you feel a vibration from your purse. looking around to see if your boss was anywhere to be found before you just pull out your phone, thankfully he wasn't. you scour through your purse and pull out your phone. seeing a notifications from schlatt.

schlatt ♥︎ : Are you still there?

you sighed as you read it, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you pondered on what to say. part of the experience of being in a such corporate position, meant you practically had no time to yourself. no time to even tend to a relationship, which did make you feel guilty at times. part of you even wanted to call off the relationship due to the clashing schedules, but you knew you could never do that to him. he had been getting progressively worse with his clingy nature, but in a sense, it was warranted.

you : yeah, stuck here til midnight.

you could see how he immediately read it, the little bubbles going across his incoming text message. you had a worrying feeling that your text was only going to upset him further, but you had to tell him. his bubbles kept going away and then coming back, an endless cycle of clearing out his texts and trying again. eventually after a minute, he finally texted back.

schlatt ♥︎ : Come over after?

schlatt ♥︎ : Please?

you sighed at his texts, knowing damn well you didn't feel like making the drive to his house so late. you just didn't want to say it in such a mean manner, you knew you'd be seen as a bitch anyway you put it. there's still a sense in trying.

you : it's like a 30 min drive baby.

he stared at the text and felt his body become so much heavier, falling against the covers once again. it was this same conversation, over and over. his insistence on getting you to get closer, but alas; it seemed to always fail. no matter how hard he tried to explain how badly he wanted you. how he would lay countless nights staring up at his ceiling wishing the warmness on his chest from his cats was you. he felt like such a big baby, on how terribly he was attached to the slight bit of your attention. like a dog looking in from the sliding glass doors begging it's owners to let it in as he watched the owner laugh and enjoy everything. he was so happy that you were successful, how you could go these luxurious events where money wasn't an issue, but he had a deep sense of want. just wishing he could just keep you to himself.

you : [ image attached ]

he felt his chest get hotter as he eyed the photo, he hated how beautiful you looked in it. how your sequin dress shined from the lights, how utterly delicious you looked in the warm dull light. he couldn't stop his eyes from lingering on how low the neckline went down on your dress. everyone got to see you like that. except him. just the sheer thought of how everyone could just gawk at your body, see in person just how delightful your face was. he almost wanted to reach into the screen, just so he could feel your soft skin. it just wasn't fair.

schlatt ♥︎ : Beautiful.

he knew if he said anymore, that wouldn't be appropriate to be reading in such a setting. rest assured, if he could; he'd be writing novels on how he wanted to bask in your presence and how terribly he ached to do so. you softly grinned at his text message, it was short but sweet. you could tell he was hiding something of a sort, but you honestly didn't have the time to indulge into it. instead, just sending another picture of yourself. one with a higher angle, showing off a better look of the dress with a wide smile painted on your face. maybe that would ease some of his sorrows.

he let out an audible groan when he saw the picture, clicking on it to get a clearer view. zooming into your face, shaking his head as he took in just how gorgeous you looked. it was so unfair, so cruel. chewing on his bottom lip in frustration before zooming down to the dress, god your curves in it. he could even see the little crease between your stomach and your thighs. unbashfully, one of his favorite parts of your body. as he continued to look at every detail of the picture, he could feel his sweats getting progressively tighter. closing his eyes and sighing as he realized, great. that's exactly what he needed on a night like this. looking down to his waistband and pulling up the edge of his sweats to look at how quickly he got excited. what was it about you?

schlatt ♥︎ : I don't have anything appropriate to say.

you softly giggled as you read the message, shaking your head and pondering on what your next course of action should be. your thumbs clicking on the keyboard to type away another message, biting down on your tongue with the excitement growing in your stomach. right before you could hit send, you heard the gruff voice of your boss speak, "[y/n], our guests." he sighed out. making you immediately shut off your phone and stuff it back into your purse with a fabricated smile. relieved when your boss just nodded and went back to talking with other colleagues.

he saw how you left him on read, only making him yearn for you more. sighing as he looked back to the tent you created in his sweats, guess there was only one thing he could do. he looked back to the text wall between the two of you, looking at the picture of you once again. groaning as he clicked on it again, his gaze transfixed on how your eyes looked. awfully cruel to send a picture of you when your eyes were obviously bedroom eyes, maybe just to tease him. it had to be that. his eyes trailing back down to the deep v neck of your dress, begging to see what it looked like underneath. wondering if you were wearing a matching set, what color was it, was it laced? he knew his internal monologue was making him sound like a loser, but he needed it. he slowly moved his hand under his waistband as he kept his eyes on the photo, whimpering softly as he grasped his hands around his shaft.

his breathing hitching as he kept his eyes on how your curves looked, his hand going up and down as he imagined it being yours instead. thinking back to the past nights where you would ride him until he felt like passing out, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the photo. he could feel every wave of heat traveling up and down his stomach, his head flailing back as he kept his pacing. god he wished you could just come over tonight. instead of being at that stupid event. looking so gorgeous and showing off to everyone except him. a thought rose in his head, he was already in the process of losing his mind so why not add a little bit more to the fire. he began typing with his right hand, which wasn't helping with his focus.

schlatt ♥︎ : Youre nvere there

schlatt ♥︎ : Rhe things Id do if you were here

schlatt ♥︎ : Fuck just plehase comeb over

schlatt ♥︎ : I will literally pay for uour uber right now

as you were walking to the bar, smiling at your colleagues as you passed them. you kept feeling the buzzing in your purse, the sinking feeling hitting your chest as you knew deep down it was him. you chose to ignore them for now, in hopes that your boss would mingle somewhere not visible to you. you groaned and made your way to the bar finally, tipping your head as you grabbed another glass of champagne. smiling at the bartender before turning around and taking a sharp sip of it. you needed this desperately right now, you obviously didn't want to be plastered but you needed a little something to take the edge off.

schlatt ♥︎ : Send your address i am prdering the iber right now

schlatt ♥︎ : Its onnthe way .please

the insistent buzzing in your purse was racking against your brain more and more. you sighed before looking around to see if your boss was anywhere to be seen, sadly he was right in the corner. you groan and stomp your way over to the bathroom, trying to not look pissed as you walked. you looked left and right to find the bathroom doors, growing more irritated as the crowd of people seemed to thicken. a few colleagues waving at you, causing you to lose your timing and make small talk. biting the bullet and smiling as you approached them to talk, but you had to make it short. you absolutely needed to.

schlatt ♥︎ : Its tenminutes away baby ppease answer

schlatt ♥︎ : Im tired of waitijg fornyou i need you

schlatt ♥︎ : Im fuckijg aching overbhere

you nodded and played along with your colleagues opening chat, twirling around your glass of champagne with a smile. you tried your best to keep your poker face as you could keep feeling the buzzes in your purse. the worry settling into your system further, what the hell could be happening? you knew you should've just set it on silent and called it a night. you smoothly pull yourself out of the conversation and wave goodbye to the group, dipping into the dim lit hallway aching to find the damn bathroom. it had to be here somewhere, then thankfully you could see it at the end of the hall. the doors practically beckoning you. you basically sprint to the bathroom and check to see if anyone was around to see you. thankfully not. you pull yourself into the bathroom and let out a much needed sigh. finally being able to pull out your phone from your purse and your screen showing nine unread messages. all of which were from schlatt. your eyes widen as you read all of them, seeing the mention of an uber. and right as you were about to type back, try to protest in any way.

schlatt ♥︎ : It's there waiting

fuck. you tapped your heels against the floor, leaning against the wall to think of whatever you could do. you couldn't just tell him to cancel it. then again, wasn't that the right answer? you couldn't just leave this event. or could you? maybe this is what you needed, some adrenaline filled experience aside from your boring busy pallet. you sigh and look back to the screen, wondering on what the hell you were supposed to do.

you : ok im walking out now

schlatt ♥︎ : God I love you

you sigh with a smile as you stuff away your phone back into your purse, walking out of the bathroom and eyeing the exit doors. shaking your head as you looked back to the crowd, thinking to yourself if this was a smart decision.

oh, who gives a shit.

author's note : TEEHEE. i loved this request so bad. i apologize if you didn't want it to be lemon-y, i will make up for that with the next CAKE fic you requested anon <3 i just hope you enjoyed :> 🎂

[sincerelyyycece]

i'm letting go.

Y/N finally had enough of being James’s backburner

note: modern au, this is a part 2 of my “hey, are u still there? …good.” fic, inspired by niki’s song again but this time it’s “oceans and engines.”

tags: @dearmy-diary @moonteaxw @xcinnamonmalfoyx @box-of-kinderjoy @hisparentsgallerryy @alittlebirdswhisper @chi-ara (i can't seem to tag the last two accounts.)

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

A symphony of heartbroken tears and quiet, mournful sniffles echoed throughout the room, rebounding off the cold, stark walls and filling the silence with their melancholy. "Here we go again," she mused to herself, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips as the painful reality of her situation hit her once more. Her gaze, heavy with unshed tears and the burden of heartbreak, fixed on the seemingly innocent photo of James and Lily, both ignorant of the emotional turmoil their image was causing.

As she studied their smiling faces, her heart, already fragile and wounded, sank even deeper into the abyss of disappointment. The realization that she had been cruelly sidelined for Lily once more was a blow she had not anticipated, a betrayal that echoed in the silent room. She could almost hear the sound of her heart shattering, each piece a testament to her unrequited love for James.

A nauseating wave of regret and self-reproach washed over her, threatening to drown her in its relentless current. As she pondered her own naivety, she wondered how she had allowed herself to fall into this trap.

What had she expected?

Did she truly believe that this time, against all odds, he would choose her?

How foolish she felt, how incredibly naïve she was for ever believing him!

Her eyes narrowed at James's enthusiastic grin, a stark reminder of the shared moments and whispered promises. She remembered how he had once smiled at her in the exact same way, his eyes twinkling with mischief and unspoken promises. How easily she had fallen for that smile, and how bitterly she regretted it now.

With a deep, shaky breath, she forced herself to look away from the picture, her hand moving to wipe away the stray tears that had begun to fall. She knew what she needed to do, as much as it hurt her. She had to let go. She had to let go of James, of her love for him, and of the hope she'd been foolishly clinging to.

She gazed at her phone, James's number illuminating the screen. Another shaky breath escaped her lips as she summoned the courage to press the call button. The room filled with the familiar sound of ringing as she anxiously awaited his response, her hands trembling with nerves. Thoughts raced through her mind as she contemplated the words she intended to speak to him.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, uttering a soft "Hello?" Her breath caught at the sound, her heart skipping a beat. Faint music played in the background as he called out her name, "Y/N." She swiftly composed herself, resisting the urge to melt at the sound of his voice. "Are you there, Angel?" he inquired, his tone gentle. Her throat felt parched as she struggled to form words, her mind urging her to speak, yet her voice failed her.

Frustration washed over her as she sensed the distant sounds of music and chatter, indicating his movement to another location. "Y/N, did you accidentally call me?" he teased, chuckling lightly. "Hey," she finally managed to utter. "Hey Angel, what's going on?" he responded, his voice tender. She blinks rapidly, searching for a way to conclude the conversation.

But then a familiar female voice interrupted from the other end, urging James to return inside for another round. Though faint, she recognized it immediately. James's affectionate response indicated his reluctance to end their conversation. Internally, she sighed, realizing it was time to let go. No more clinging to hope, no more waiting on the sidelines for him. It was time to move on.

She'd had enough; her heart was tired of playing second fiddle to Lily. She was tired of being the one he turned to when he was bored or lonely—the one who was there to fill his empty moments. "James," she started hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think we should stop seeing each other." There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, she thought he had hung up. "What?" he finally asked, sounding utterly shocked. "Why?”

"I'm tired, James," she admitted, her voice wavering as she spoke. "I'm tired of waiting for you, of being your second choice. I deserve better than this. I deserve to be someone's first choice, not their backup plan." There was a pause as she took a deep breath, gathering her courage before adding, "I'm letting go.”

"But, Y/N," James started desperately, but she cut him off. "No, James. It's over. Goodbye." With that, she ended the call, her heart aching as she did so. Up until that moment, she had hoped that things might change and that James might come to see her as more than just a friend, more than just a backup plan. But it was clear now that that was never going to happen. She had to let him go, for her own sake.

It was a painful decision, but she knew it was the right one. She deserved to be more than someone's second choice. She deserved to be loved and cherished as much as she loved and cherished others. And maybe one day she will find that person. But for now, it was time for her to focus on herself. It was time to heal and move forward. It was time to let go.

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 007 ! a statement

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note i was out all day to the point i almost forgot ab this smau ngl. + in honor of my fav @/hannicorpse bc she turns 18 today!!

previous <> masterlist <> next

“y/n? its rinnie. lets go out. you havent gotten out of bed in days. its not the end of the world. ill take you to a nice cafe.” haerin said as she knocked on the bedroom door.

“dude, too soon. no cafes.” you heard danielle mutter as she lightly hit haerin’s shoulder.

“y/n, its dani. please come out?”

hesitantly, you got up slowly and unlocked the door. behind it, revealed danielle, haerin, hyein, and minji, all holding essential items they knew would comfort you. ice cream, tissue, ramen, all sorts of stuff.

“oh, poor yn..” hyein pouted with sympathy as she pulled you into her arms. she wasn’t wrong, poor you. your eyes were puffy and red from crying, on top of your heavy eye bags due to the lack of sleep.

“y/n? someone’s here to see you.” hanni informed as she came up the stairs.

your stomach dropped to the floor. you felt your heart pounding out your chest, it almost came out your mouth.

“tell him to leave.” you scoffed, turning to go back into your room.

“it’s not him.” minji cut you off as she pulled your arm to turn you around.

slowly, the five girls moved out the way to reveal jungwon and jake, standing at the bottom of the staircase. “hey y/n.” jake politely waved.

“we’ll give you some time.” minji and danielle nodded as they took the others into the second bedroom.

“i know what you’re thinking. and before you say anything, riki didn’t deny it by choice. if it was up to him, the whole world would have already known how much he loves you. but the manager insisted it was this way. even bang pd wanted your word for the article, yet they just wanted to leave you out of it.” jake spoke slowly to you as jungwon wiped away your dry tears with a wet tissue.

“where is he right now?” you whispered. you were almost unsure if they could hear you or not.

“still locked in his room. you two are in the same boat right now. he’s just like you, he refused to leave his bed.” jungwon chuckled as he attempted to lighten the mood. “we talked to the manager this morning, and last week after the scandal first came out. but there’s nothing we could do.”

“thank you for trying. i had no idea. i just, i really can’t face him right now.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in annoyance.

“we understand. take your time. i just hope you two are back in shape for music bank, when you guys have to go on in two days.” said jake, before he got up to get more water from the kitchen.

“wait- then, who covered for us five days ago? if i didn’t show up, i assume he didn’t either.” you furrowed your brows.

“eunchae and sangmin came back temporarily due to the circumstances. but you two are required to be back by this next airing.” jungwon informed.

“jungwon, we should get going. but it was lovely talking to you. see you around.” jake politely interrupted as jungwon followed him out the door.

you remained sat on the couch in silence. “what am i gonna do..” you murmured.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

[defrosted69]

Ms. Sunshine

(IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader)

.

.

.

The light brightened your surroundings as you were surrounded by hustling people in a familiar mall that you have been many times before yet felt completely fresh to you. You stood there, perplexed as to why you were there in the first place, but your uncertainty seemed to be limited to yourself. But suddenly a hand grabbed yours, dragging you in front of a woman whose hair appeared to be shining from the way it swirled in the air. However, this woman was both unknown and familiar.

There was this strange sense of warmth that developed in your hand, reaching your heart and made you euphoric with remembrance. But before you can confess it, her touch makes you feel protected. You need to ask her who she is.

"Wait hold on. Who are you."

The woman came to a stop in her steps as your pulse rate increased, making you apprehensive. You heard a little chuckle, but it was reverberated as if her voice was five other versions of her own voice. This would make it more difficult for you to recognize her.

"I'm-"

As she said those words, your eyes widen as a bright light illuminated your view unable to see her face as everything suddenly was slowly becoming silent and the light getting brighter and brighter and brighter..

You awaken from a dream in which you were being carried by a girl with her back to you. The girl was beautiful, with long wavy hair and an exquisite elegance about her. Just as you were ready to inquire her name, your alarm goes off, and you awaken with despair. The dream was so realistic and the girl so appealing that it left me feeling empty and homesick. You don't recall the girl's face, but the melancholy stays.

You still recall the girl and how happy she made you feel. You desire to return to the dream and be with her again. But the vision of her face continues to evade you, and you worry losing the joy she gave to your face. You were split between wishing for her and wanting to forget, to move on from the misery of not knowing her. But you know you can't move on without finding closure and putting a face to the girl who haunts you.

Then it hit you. You haven't such a dream of that girl since your 2nd year in College and now it's been 6 years since then. It was weird because that dream was more frequent back in highschool. And during your youth, you would have such crazy delulu moments thinking that was your wife but when it stopped, you also began thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

Then it happened again once during your 2nd year college and it felt real because again, it was the same girl. Despite her not turning her face towards you, that feeling she gives you was very familiar so you know she was that girl again. And although it was a short time, it made you smile.

But now, it only was a reminder how lonely you have become and that there was a void in your heart that will never be filled up with. An empty space they can call it which no matter many bandage you put on it, nothing can hide the scar and bleed it had.

Leaving your apartment with a heavy burden was something you were used to as you grew older but having that dream is something that doubles the weight on your heart and mind. The days of happiness is something you wished to achieve yet even in dreams, you couldn't reach it. It sucks because the end goal for you was to find that happiness and live through it with smile yet so far, no clue where you can find it.

Your gaze shifted upward as you approached someone familiar, and the small boy grinned gleefully as it disengaged itself from holding its father and dashed at you with a brilliant smile full of excitement and enthusiasm.

"Uncle Y/N!!"

"Wassup little man."

You kneeled down on to meet him as you embrace the little boy in your arms. If there's something that would bring a smile on your face is this little guy right here who's always so energetic and full of energy. Something that you wish you had when it comes to handling the day.

"It's his first day at school ever so he's very excited."

A deep voice spoke as you looked at your brother who had a proud smile plastered on his face. Just like his son, both had the same shining smile that illuminates the surrounding. Though it's kinda funny how you are his little brother because unlike him, your dashing smile was nowhere to be seen at all.

"I can tell. Though you sure he won't cross-rhodes anyone?"

"Haha very funny Y/N. You know I keep him away from watching those for now."

"So you're telling me when he's in 1st grade, he can do that someone?"

"Possibly yeah."

You two shared a moment to laugh. Despite not having the same shine as his smile, the humor between brothers is still there to linger and to look forward too. But aside from the jokes and humor, He was still your brother for a reason.

"Hey."

"What?"

"I know your struggling right now but just you know, I'm here for you, as your brother and family. You know that right?"

He patted your shoulder giving it a small squeeze assuring you that he will always have your back. A small smile appeared on your face because Cody has always been the guy to keeps on picking you up whenever you were at your lowest point. No matter how deep you keep on getting into, Cody was there ready to pick you up.

"I know. I know. Thanks but I can handle this. It's just a slight case of sadness and emptiness. I had worse case than this."

"I know, just…I'm here to listen okay? You don't have to think to much and carry everything on your back okay?"

You sighed softly and nodded your head at him assuring him you'll be alright. Dark battle with yourself is a very hard battle especially if your all alone so having an assurance with him is a good thing.

"Alright, We'll be going then. Say bye to Dad and mom now little dude."

"Bye bye Dad, Bye bye Mom"

He waved his small hands at his parents who smiled and waved back at him. Your brother Cody nodded at you signaling that your now responsible of his child. You nodded back as you held the little boys hand and walked towards his nursery school. Despite having a troubled life right now, your love and caring nature to your nephew was undeniable because you have been his friend and uncle since his birth. You have never missed a single event in his life and today marks another story for him with you.

"You nervous Little man?"

"No. I'm excited Uncle Y/N. Dad told me I'll make friends like you."

"But they aren't gonna be dashing unlike me"

"Uncle.. You and your lame jokes again."

"Come on, I'm dashing and you know that right?"

You poked his nose making him scrunch his nose cutely as you let out a laughter. It was always a fun thing to do when it comes to teasing and joking around with him. But it's also way that you care about him as you don't want him to suffer the same sadness your suffering because after all, kids deserve to have fun.

The walk to his preschool wasn't that much long from your brother's house as you keep on teasing him and joking around him making sure he doesn't get nervous on his first day. Because despite showing that the little boy could be an extroverted person in the future, there's a slight chance he might feel out of place with the rest of the kids and you don't want him to suffer what you did.

Upon reaching the school gate, you notice a lof of kids already enjoying themselves as you see your nephews eyes starting to shift slightly meaning he's nervous. You gave his head small pat and smile.

"Don't be nervous okay?"

"I-I'm not nervous."

"Your ugly face say so."

"I'm not ugly. You meanie…"

You chuckled as you lead him to his classroom where there were a few kids along with their parents trying to keep their kid stop from crying. Of course you understand this since perhaps they aren't used to being sent away from their parents. You guided him to his seat and gave him a packed of chocolate drink.

"Here, drink this so you'll have many friends. Remember what I Always tell you right?"

"Yes Uncle. Never be rude and always be friendly. I remember it well uncle."

You smiled as you gave his hair a good small ruffle just because. You Looked at him one last time before leaving the classroom as you have 2 more hours before you pick him from school. So you would usually just stroll around the city clearing your mind during those times and as you were trying to think of a spot to sit at the park, a female teacher seems to be clumsy on her first day as her papers was on the floor scattered. And what's intriguing is how people didn't even tried to help the poor woman.

You sighed as you saw an image of yourself in her. So without thinking twice you picked up her papers S you neatly arranged them and handed it to her. You were quite suprised to see her almost in tears which caught you off guard in some degree. But you quickly recovered and helped her up as well. But what surprised you is how tall she was. You were on her chest level and you were 6 foot 3 inches.

"Thank you… Thank you…"

She seems to be closing to breaking down and you thought that students would be the only one who were crying on their first day, apparently teachers too. You pulled out your handkerchief as you let her wipe her tears away.

"Your welcome. But please try not to cry infront of kids. They deserve to be happy not sad okay Miss?"

"Yeah.. Sorry, your right. Thank you."

You nodded your head and walked away as your mind once again returned to finding a spot to think and relax your mind away from the sadness your feeling deep inside. You forgot one thing though and it was something that will forever change your life for the better. As Wonyoung watches you leave, she takes the courage to her first class ready to make children laugh and learn.

"I'll return your handkerchief later on.. Thank you stranger."

.

.

.

The walk to the park wasn't anything special at all because it was close to your nephew's school and you preety much had a clear path towards it. No need to detour around. Sitting on a wooden bench admiring the scenery infront of you put a small hint of sadness in your mind.

You managed to look back how your life has turned out compared to your brothers and sister was something you hated to hear. Having a history of successful story within your family name and ending up being the black sheep and failure of the family was the perfect description to be given to you.

You chuckled realizing and recalling how many mistakes you have done leading to your situation. The constant memory of dissapointment from yourself and from your family was always a reminder for you that there was no fixing your situation. You'll forever be an asterisk.

Everyone has left you except your brother Cody who still believed and trust you that you can stir that ship back to its path but you know deep down, that the ship, is slowly sinking to the deep ocean ready to be forgotten.

Your sadness has come so bad that you were given prescriptions just to be able to sleep at night and mute the voice that speak to you every night. Yet they cost a lot and a rope was more cheaper and easy to handle. But that last bit of hope was your nephew.

Just as you were about to let go, your brother Cody reached out to you, saw past your mistake, and still saw you as his brother. He made the world around you brighter and more fun to some extent, but the light that kept you going was seeing your nephew smile and be happy. Because you know how much weight he will bear as the only individual with the last name Rhodes. The duty and expectations of him will come in the future, but for now all you want from him is to have fun and enjoy his youth, which you have lost.

Being pushed down and having high expectations placed on you at such a young age was the chain that bound your legs as you grew older. And the objective prize of not disappointing your parents was all you desired never to happen, but alas, Life is harsh, and everything just collapsed when the fact was that you were never as brilliant or as similar to your brothers.

You weren't the smartest, strongest, witties, nor even the most useful in your family. In your perspective, you were the dead weight of the family and that one accident changed you forever.

Just when you thought you trusted your friends the most, you made the worst error by trusting them too much and falling into the lowest hole of disappointment. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful afternoon, and you were just going home when your buddies invited you to a brief hangout session by the beach. Nothing unusual appears to be happening right now. You and your pals usually spend out at the beach, but today was different.

Once arriving there, you saw some of your female classmate there and suprising of at, the girl you liked was there as well which already confused you and made you nervous. Usually it was just you and your friends but perhaps today was the day they will help you get her.

Boy you were so wrong.

They then began bringing out booze, which surprised you because none of your pals were alcoholics, but the fact that they were attracting the attention of your female classmates indicated that they were up to something unpleasant. So you cautioned one of your buddies not to get too intoxicated, but they ignored your advice and continued drinking as if they were grownups. They were boisterous and crazy, which naturally attracted the attention of the authorities.

They approached so quickly that none of you were able to respond, but when they inquired who brought out the booze, they all pointed to you. And the first person to point at you was your first buddy since elementary school, and the fact that he did so astonished and frozen you.

"It was his sir. We were trying to stop him but he continued because he said that he won't get into trouble because he's a Rhodes so we trusted him. But he's just an immature prick"

The words he spoke cut your heart a million times, and the fact that everyone backed him made your heart break piece by piece. And, worst of all, the girl you'd idolized for so long pointed at you with the words that still haunt you now.

"You're a sick guy. I hate you Y/N"

And just like that, everyone loathed and turned against you. You became your school's biggest humiliation and were kicked out because the principal wanted to keep his face and the school's reputation clean. Hell was inflicted upon you at school, and worst of all, at your home. Having your name tainted creates a negative picture for them, and you felt your elder brother, Dustin, rage boiling up as he beat you up with the purpose to murder you. If Cody hadn't fought back for you, you would have died at the hands of your brother.

But what's worse than your brother's punches was the look of dissapointment from your mother and sister who looked away from you avoiding your eyes. It was then you realize, you were never loved by anyone in the family as you ran away from that house hold never to be seen again.

You suffered alone and that has always been the case with you. Nothing goes right for you and it was only appropriate that your picture was gone from the family picture because after all, who needs a useless person like you. Your friends stabbed you in the back, the eldest brother wants to kill you, and your own mother and sister didn't even try to help you. Nobody loved you from the start.

But your brother cody, He was different. The moment you left house, was also the time he left for college but he looked you first in the city. You tried to push him away but he didn't shove or pushed back. He opened his arms at you waiting for you to reach up to him as he never closed the door for you. You continued to make more mistake in life yet when you realize that Cody was willing to accept you, you reached out to him and he helped you.

Although it had been a few years since you last saw him, his grin had not changed, and what surprised you was that he was carrying his son, who at first appeared afraid to see you, which was reasonable. Given your situation, it was understandable for a child to be wary of you. But when you were left together, he handed you his toy, and you played with it, and your nice uncle responsibilities began from there.

A warm grin spread across your face as you remembered how his son welcomed you, just as Cody accepted you despite your flaws and mistakes. Your phone alerted you that the two-hour period had finished and it was time to pick up your nephew. You stood up from the bench, groaning slightly, and headed back to the school, where many parents were waiting for their children. Knowing your nephew would rather stay in his classroom than go even though it was dismissal time, you went to his classroom and found him painting while talking to his instructor, who looked at you in surprise.

"You're that guy from-"

"Uncle!!"

Your nephew crashed into you causing you to kneel down and hug him back as his warm embrace always keep a smile on your face. Once you pulled away from him you stroke his hair and smiling proudly of him.

"You didn't give your teacher a headache did you?"

"No Uncle."

"That's good to hear."

You stood up and looked at Wonyoung who gasped and couldn't believe what she was seeing. The man who helped her earlier was a guardian of the kids she's teaching.

"Thanks for being patient with my nephew miss."

"Ah-no it's okay. Ah, Right Your handkerchief."

Wonyoung went to grab a box from her bag and handed it to you which widen your eyes upon seeing the brand of the box. You immediately reject it feeling overwhelmed for just a simple handkerchief.

"Ah No need Miss, I don't need that expensive handkerchief."

"Ah not a fan of Luis Vuitton? Hmm.. Ah I think I have a prada brand on my bag"

"No no please. It's fine Miss, it's not that big of deal."

"But it is for me. You reminded me of what my role is to the kids. You cleared my overwhelming thoughts. So this is nothing to me."

Wonyoung smiled sweetly at you and you just sighed knowing that people like her are the one who's persistents are off the roof. They would chase the impossible for you because they said so. But you still can't accept such expensive gifts from her.

"I understand but I can't accept it. Instead of giving me something expensive, just please continue being patient with this little kid over here?"

You pocked the cheeks of your nephew who smiled and giggled upon contact with your finger as Wonyoung felt her heart melt seeing how adorable your relationship with your nephew looked like.

"Okay. Okay you win. I'll take care of Little Rhodes right here. Hehe~ but may I know your name?"

"Y/N Rhodes"

"Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung."

The two of you shaked each other's hand and what you didn't know that at this time, your fortune and dark days will be filled with days full of…her.

.

.

.

As the days passed, you and Wonyoung began to get to know each other better through your nephew, who appears to purposefully stay in class to be picked up by you, which causes you to chat with Wonyoung more frequently. Although you were a reserved person in general, Wonyoung was able to burst your bubble of protection without damaging you or even touching on a difficult subject.

Talking to Wonyoung seems so peaceful and tranquil, and despite your lack of faith in others, Wonyoung might be someone you can trust. Your nephew smelled what was cooking in front of him and wanted to hook you up with her. Yes, your own nephew set you up for a brief lunch with Wonyoung, who gladly agreed. You, on the other hand, began to panic since you weren't sure what to dress, let alone what to do.

You've never had lunch with a girl before, and the experience of having lunch with someone you know seems so distant. Despite feeling overwhelmed, you pushed through since you didn't want to disappoint her. But you also have to know that she invited you to a beautiful restaurant, which blew your head.

You were starting to piece together that Jang Wonyoung isn't just an ordinary teacher but perhaps someone more powerful and richer that you could ever reach. But nonetheless, you admired your look which was preety decent. It wasn't luxurious looking but it makes you comfortable as you wore an orange shirt, blue denim jeans and white shoes. That was your natural clothes so you went to the place.

And even before entering the place, outside of the restaurant felt like it was made for billionaires and Millionaires and someone like you who only has a few dollars and cent on your pocket don't deserve to be their. You were anxious but taking a deep breath, you stepped towards the guy outside with a clip board.

"Welcome to L'amour Le Cour. Do you have reservations?"

"Umm a table for Ms. Jang-"

"Y/N?"

You stopped in place as an eerie sensation ran down your spine and your hand began to shake uncontrollably. The awful memories began to flood your head as you took a deep breath before turning your back and seeing the ones who made hell possible for you. It was quite suitable to watch your first friend and the person you used to admire holding hands since they looked so beautiful and sophisticated in comparison to you, who appeared so drab and basic.

He laughed unable to believe you were standing outside an luxurious restaurant as the girl looked at you with disgust as if you were the filthiest man on earth.

"Oh man, I didn't expect to see you here. Why are you even here? You don't belong here drunkard."

His unpleasant smirk caused you to clench your fist in rage, but you must remain calm or nothing positive will come of this. The only right thing to do now was to walk away, since individuals like them would only bring you horrible memories. So, without responding him, you moved past him, but you were forced to confront him.

"I'm talking to you bastard! Answer me when your nothing but a useless human being-"

SLAP

Wonyoung slapped the man up, standing tall in front of you with a scowl and fire in her eyes, yet despite her flaming gaze, she looked exquisite and gorgeous in her gold dress, almost like a fairy.

"Don't talk bad to my boyfriend you backstabber."

The man bite his lip and was about to Attack Wonyoung with a fist but another fist connected on his face as he landed straight to his car destroying his windshield. Wonyoung smiled seeing her body guard protecting her.

"Thanks Yujin hehe."

"Anything for you Madame."

Wonyoung then began to march to his girlfriend with panic on her eyes as Wonyoung smiled devilishly before standing infront of her clearly towering her which intimidate her.

"You made someone special to me suffer so much so, I'll make sure you two suffer as well hehe~"

The panic and fear on her was evident as she couldn't look at Wonyoung in the eyes yet she was able to ask her a question.

"What..what do you mean?"

"Toodles~"

Wonyoung didn't answer her as she just turned her back allowing her hair to slap the face of the girl as she gave Yujin the command and she smiled brightly at you holding onto your hand.

"A table under my name please."

"Of course Ma'am Jang. Right this way."

The servant then lead you two inside the restaurant as Wonyoung took the lead holding your hand but you were still shocked on what just happened earlier. Everything moved so fast and your brain couldn't process everything yet. As the two of you sat down, it was then you processed everything that just happened.

"Why did you do that Wonyoung?"

Wonyoung looked down in shame as she didn't want to admit the truth with you because she was afraid that you would react differently and destroy the relationship you two had going on.

"I'm sorry Y/N…I didn't mean to do that I just didn't want them looking down on you because of… Your past."

"My past? How did you-"

"Your Nephew told me. Don't get mad at him, please I… If your gonna get mad. Get mad at me because I got curious about you.."

People who meddle with your life are the ones you hate the most and right now, Wonyoung stepped inside the boundary of yours as you felt so dissapointed in her.

"So you used my nephew to know about me?"

"No I didn't. He-"

"Enough Wonyoung. I'm dissapointed in you."

Wonyoung looked down with a huge frown on her face as she was expecting this to happen but what she didn't expect is the pain her heart was experiencing. This was gut wrenching for her and all she wanted to do was help.

"Y/N.."

"Goodbye Wonyoung."

And just like that, you left the restaurant leaving Wonyoung alone as she sighed and let the tears fall from her eyes. Once again, you made a bad decision in your life and perhaps this was the biggest wrong decision you made because unknown to you.

She did all that because she caught feelings for you.

.

.

.

The days of escorting your nephew to school were finished when you told your brother Cody that you would no longer send him to school. Your brother was taken aback at first, but eventually accepted it since he realized something was on your mind at the time. However, your nephew has been affected by this.

He missed you escorting him to school and having little conversations with his teacher, Ms. Wonyoung, since he knows and sees that she likes you. She truly likes you, and he wants you nothing but happiness; after all, hearing your story from his father earned you a special place in his heart.

So a week without you was awful for him, and he'd had enough. He requested his father to bring him to you and complied. When he arrived at your flat, he excitedly hugged you, and you returned the hug. You weren't going to lie, you missed the embraces from him as you allowed him into your apartment as your brother waited in his car.

"Hey little man, you want orange juice? I can make you one."

"It's okay uncle. I just want you back to walking me to school again."

He was direct to the point as you sighed and sat next to him on the couch.

"Uncle has just been busy you know. Sorry."

"Lier. You don't work much uncle."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you were caught by him. Despite his age, he was a very sharp person who gets to understand things.

"Uncle, Ms. Jang is so sad."

Your laughter died hearing her name. You were dissapointed in her yes but you also had a fault for not listening to her but what explanation was left there is? You had enough of trusting people and your heart could only handle much heartbreak.

"Listen you-"

"Ms. Jang likes you a lot uncle. I told her of your past and how of an amazing uncle you are to me. She didn't care about your past because you, caught her heart by what your doing now. And that is being a better person."

You were quiet as you listened to his words. You couldn't believe that a kid was punching your stupid brain with facts and truth and all you could do was just bow your head in shame.

"Uncle, Ms. Jang is a good person. You should apologize to her or talk to her because I don't want to see you or Ms. Jang sad. Uncle, I want you to be happy just like how you made me happy whenever you're with me uncle."

No words got out of your mouth as you know that he wasn't lying. You really messed up shutting Wonyoung down as you need to make things right. With so many wrong decision you have made, you have the biggest opportunity to correct your biggest mistake of your life. You hugged your nephew as he had snapped your head towards the right direction.

As you lead him back to your brother's car, you spoke with cody.

"Hey, he's a good kid."

"I know. Just like you before."

"Yeah. Because of him I realize my mistake and how much of a pussy I am."

Cody laughed whole heartedly as he pat your back but his Pats felt like a proud brother towards you.

"I'm glad you realize that. Well, we better get going now."

"Bye uncle hehe."

You watch as your brothers car drive away and a new sense or resolve fill your heart. Taking deep breath, you began to sprint towards the place where the woman that cared for you was waiting for you.

.

.

.

Wonyoung groaned after finishing the seatwork for the youngsters to do next week. She began to glance around the classroom, and while it felt empty, her heart was the one who felt the most lonely since the guy she loved had abandoned her.

Perhaps the words of her friend was true. Maybe love wasn't really just for her because she failed to give you good impression that she's a woman that can change you and make you feel love.

Hearing stories about your past from your nephew and your brother only made her more like you because you were so strong dealing with this kind of problem. But now all that was gone and-

"Wonyoung."

Wonyoung widen her eyes seeing you catching your breath on the door as she hurriedly went towards you with concern on her eyes. Despite the fact that the words you said to her was painful, she still cares for you.

"Hey are you okay? Did you run?" Wonyoung gripped your cheeks and examined your face as perspiration dripped from your brow. You didn't mind the perspiration since you enjoyed her touch on your cheeks, which felt warm and kind. You grabbed her hand and pulled it from your cheeks, holding her hands tightly and staring into her eyes.

"I'm sorry Wonyoung. I really am sorry for what I said."

Wonyoung shook her head as she understands why you were angry and dissapointed in her.

"No it's my fault for being nossy. I shouldn't have meddle with your life."

"Wonyoung, I don't mind you meddling with my life because.. I want you to be part of my life."

Wonyoung froze in place as her cheeks began to warm up upon hearing the words you just said. Her eyes was starting to get lost in your gaze as she felt so relaxed and loved.

"All my life, I shut people away because I faced trust issues but you, Wonyoung. You broke that bubble of mine and repaired my issue and more importantly, you pieced my shattered heart together. So Wonyoung, Please be a part of my life from now-"

You didn't even finish as Wonyoung hugged you as she buried her face on your chest sniffing your scent as she giggled.

"If it means I can smell this forever then yes. I'll be a part of your life and Heh, can I be that girl of your life?"

Wonyoung raised his gaze to meet yours, revealing a previously hidden grin in your mouth. You nodded because you couldn't let go of the girl in your arms. So you hugged her, and the two of you enjoyed a love embrace that would warm any frigid room.

.

.

.

A few months has passed by and it was your nephew's birthday party as his friends were all present there. Cody and his wife Brandi were all greeting their guest but your nephew was pouting as once again, he was waiting for your arrival.

"Dad. You sure you told Uncle that today is my birthday?"

"Yeah he'll just be a little late."

"You always say that but he never shows up.."

He puffed his cheeks as he looked down dissapointed as for his past birthdays, you have always skipped it because you didn't want to appear in public around your brother's friends because you felt shame. Yet this year it was different.

"Who says I don't show up?"

Your voice made him look up as you stood there with a huge gift for him.

"Uncle!"

He happily rushed towards you hugging you tightly as you returned the hug and ruffled his hair.

"Happy birthday~Hehehe~"

After pulling away from you he noticed someone familair standing next to you. Your nephew's eyes widen in shocked and suprise to see his teacher, Wonyoung give him a gift as well as he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Ms. Jang? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, she's not Ms. Jang. She's your future Aunty so behave yourself."

"WHAT?!"

You and Wonyoung shared a laughter as he couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. Wonyoung giggled as she patted his head.

"Call me Aunty Wony okay? Hehehe"

Your nephew grinned and nodded, delighted that you and Wonyoung were finally together. Cody touched your shoulder and smiled at you with pride. Cody was overjoyed to see you finally enjoying moments in your life because he knows you deserve them after all the anguish you went through years ago.

Wonyoung cupped your cheeks as she gave you a quick kiss as you chuckled at her action.

"Was that my morning kiss?"

"Yeah. You didn't kiss me earlier when we woke up so, kiss me too Babe."

"Ugh your so needy Wony."

"Kisss mee pleaseeeeee."

You chuckled because you think it cute and humorous when your girlfriend Wonyoung becomes possessive and needy. It always thrills your heart to see her like this, so you complied and kissed her lips as you two kissed, which was full of love.

After everything that had transpired in the past, Wonyoung was the girl who restored your enjoyment of life and gave you something to look forward to. Having the lady who loves you so much makes the anguish and suffering of the past all worth it because

Wonyoung is worth caring about. .

.

.

[cvoq]

In Commemoration of Her

Synopsis ﹐ You and James Sunderland are at Lakeview Hotel, planning to stay the night when he unlocks a key memory.

content ﹐Rated R (MDNI), SPOILERS! darkfic, smut, angst, non-con, pwp, descriptive/smut sex, somno, grinding, fingering, squirting, rough sex, p n v sex, james sunderland x fem!reader

╰╮wc 3.3k

Mary was a bright, sweet woman. Illness plagued her body when she was young and died 3 years ago from what you’ve heard. Apparently this “Maria” looked exactly like her, but where was she? You’ve heard so much about Mary this Mary that, that you knew James really did love her; For that reason he and you are at their special place, hotel room 312 looking outside of the illuminated Toluca Lake.

“James,” The name rolls sweetly off your tongue admiring the lakeside view. “It’s beautiful here..”

The cool moonlight hits your skin, reflecting you off the window. You’re wearing a white frilly sundress with spaghetti straps. As soon as you came off of work a few days ago, you took a trip to West Virginia with your bags packed heading to the homey-tourist-attraction; Silent Hill.

James was seeing something completely different. You turned around getting a glimpse to check on him, he previously placed a cassette tape into the TV that the room provided but it was just static. He was engulfed in what he was watching though. You chose to let him be in his thoughts and focus on yours.

As you recall, many strange things have been occurring ever since you came. While following James around, a little girl by the name of Laura tagged along with the two of you. She too was fond of Mary, however not so much of you. All you could remember was the girl's words that she exchanged with you in private while at the bowling alley.

“–James would never replace Mary!” She exclaimed clearly upset, her eyes welled up with tears ready to spill.

“I’m his friend,” You reply quietly trying to give the young girl reassurance. You watch her hold back from crying, feeling guilty. “Nothing will happen between us, everything that I’m doing right now is for her.”

“Rea-lly?” Laura asked, stifling through her words, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

“Really”

If only that were true. You wonder to yourself what the hell you were doing alone with a man in a hotel room during the dark. You really can’t pretend that you weren’t attracted to James. Ever since you’ve met him at the gazebo after wandering in the town for what seemed like hours, you’ve become “travel” buddies.

You choose to snap out of it, turning your attention towards James. He was on the armchair, slouched forward. He looked as if all life had been erased from him. Melancholy, miserable, you felt the feeling emanate with the void of silence.

“James?” You call out, taking a step closer to him on his right side.

“Mary’s,” James muttered with a pause. You pay close attention to what he’s trying to say. “Mary’s gone.”

You stand in silence, watching as James takes time to reflect on himself. You follow his eyes to see that he’s looking at the bed behind him tucked away in the corner with the night lights, staring at the pillows. You knew and took account of how lost and unstable James came off to be, but it never occurred to you how severe it was.

You pressed your lips, speaking softly to him. “Is everything..-Are you doing alright there?”

He stayed still in the same position, still not responding. It pains you to receive silent treatment from him but all you can do is wait for him to open up.

“I killed her,” James tells her with a defeated voice. His head stayed down as he looked at the floor right in front of him, not bothering to look up at you.

Your eyes widen and you respond with nothing. Didn’t he love her? You try to reason that maybe James was imagining things from all the pent up guilt he must have felt, but it really did seem that yes. James killed his late wife.

You’ve never felt more convicted.

“I’m going to wash up..” You say after a minute of pure silence between the two of you and James nods in response. Hopefully a quick shower would drain away all your worries. You promptly leave to the bathroom, leaving James all alone by himself.

For almost an hour, you stood under the shower thinking to yourself. You continued with the regular routine of brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and putting on a fresh pair of clothes which you had thanks to hauling around your suitcase everywhere you went. You felt refreshed that you were in new clothes but felt a dawning sense of pressure and guilt still there. You’re also a bad person if you somehow still manage to like him, a murderer, after all he’s done right?

Finishing your alone time, you swing open the restroom door stepping outside of it. “The bathrooms free for use,” you spoke while looking around the room to spot for James. There he was, on the bed without a blanket on top of him, fast asleep.

James' shoes weren’t even off.. he still had his jacket on, he was knocked unconscious. You scurry to his side of the bed he was occupying. The last you could do was get his shoes off for being able to book a room for the two of you. So you take off both his black leather boots from his feet carefully, trying not to wake him up. After placing them down nearby his bedside you look at his military jacket.

You contemplate if you should change him out of it but you wonder if it would be considered overstepping. You furrow your brows with your eyes lingering in his state. When James slept, you came to notice how his face was definitely more relaxed. His hair fell out of the way he styled it and his crease on his forehead seemed to vanish. He glowed under the warm light of the lamp, but he was a stressed guy.

Sighing to yourself, you move your hands to clasp onto James' jacket. Although you had to maneuver his arms and had to tug a lot, you managed to get it off revealing his gray long sleeved shirt. You place the coat on the nightstand beside you and get ready to tuck him in the sheets when you notice something.

A bulge, a bulge in his jeans. Your face flushes, staring at it for quite some time. Who knows what would’ve happened if you tried to take his pants off? What’s surprising is the size of it. It looked as if it was uncomfortable resting there.. but you just quickly covered James in a blanket.

You wonder where to sleep. The couches only seated one person and the night was cold. Surely, if you slept on the right side of the bed it would be fine. So you chose to climb in the sheets, on the far side facing away from James.

After turning off the lamp, you try to close your eyes but that led to you thinking about what you just saw. You smothered your face into the pillows but can’t help feel your cheeks warm up. You know it’s wrong. James only has love for his wife and you should respect that, so you doze off to sleep.

You wake up in a daze, feeling something press up against you. There’s a weighted feeling lingering on your back. A pair of hands hold your waist and- Shit. Who was doing this?!

Your eyes open slowly to catch a glimpse of your situation. It was James, rutting into you.

He grinded into your ass pressing his hardon into you. Grunting softly into the crevice of your neck that you felt his scratchy stubble rub against you.

What was worse is that you were turned on by this. He was in such close proximity, you could feel the heat emitting off of him. You tightly press your legs together clenching your thighs for dear life, feeling something build up inside of you.

“James..-”

“Help me with this, please..” He begs breathily, pressing you tighter onto himself.

“Al..” You hesitate for a bit. “Alright.”

James reached for your chest, groping onto you. You can feel his rough hands through the fabric, much larger compared to yours. He’s pressing them and messaging them with his palms, running his fingers over your now hardened nipples as you jolt at the sensation.

“I’ve needed this,” He admits grudgingly, taking in your smell. You’re so clean, floral.. so different from him.

You don’t know whether to feel relieved or shameful.

By now your top is ridden up, so James takes his time to place his hands on your stomach to feel your bare skin. You feel so hot, it’s suffocating. His calloused hands slide further to reach your supple breasts. Having you hitch your breath. He takes his time toying with them, squeezing your buds in between his fingers in a firm manner.

“-You’re teasing me..” You manage to utter out, embarrassed.

“Just a few more minutes,” James mutters, still rubbing your skin.

He then moves his hand down into your pajama pants, trailing to your soppy cotton panties. Running a finger up and down your slip, sometimes visiting your clit. You try to suppress your reactions but you can’t help bucking your hips into him.

“You’re -wet there.” James remarks in a quiet tone. It came off as he was flustered or akward, maybe a mix of both. You felt your heat pulse from his words.

“..I want more,” Communicating to him sheepishly. Afraid of seeming whiny and demanding of doing too much while doing too little, you reach your hand back touching his clothed erection. Then pressed your hand on it, trying to feel his girth through his jeans. His warmth emanated off of it.

James groans in response, nodding his head in affirmation. He moved your undergarments to the side revealing your glistening folds, slick from it was still strung onto your panties like a string. He’d blush, admiring how messy you were and rubbed his fingers up and down your hot pussy.

He slid a finger in, watching as you suck it in. Wetness seeped out from you onto his hand as he watched your face contort. You really did put lube to shame..

James worked his way to getting two fingers inside you. You let out soft “ohs” and “ahs!” with a flushed face. Your body felt so hot but your core was even worse, it craved for more and latched onto his fingers as he tried to pull out. Filthy noises spilled from your pussy, embarrassing you from the wet sound you were producing.

He rubbed his pads on the walls of your soaked cunt, noticing you tense up around them as he’s preparing to slide a third finger into you. There James feels a spongy area, feeling it and pressing his fingers on the spot.

“James-!” You yelp, tossing your head up. You feel yourself gush from your pussy, not used to the unfamiliar feeling.

He clenched his jaw feeling himself throbbing with need. The way you said his name was so endearingly erotic. James' pants felt so tight that any friction he felt within his confines almost had him losing it.

You clench around his fingers, gripping his hand placed on your waist as you let out a whimper. However all James does is tighten your grip on you, pressing down on your stomach continuing to fingerfuck you. You bury your face into the pillows as you feel the need to urinate as pressure builds up.

James then stuck another finger in, thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace watching as you go slack in his arms and your hips wiggle trying to escape his grasp. Did you have to be this sexy?

“Auh-Shit!” You moan, coming undone.

Warm clear fluid expels from your cunt as your abdomen tenses up, arching your back like a cat. You're so tight, trying to keep James fingers in as you shudder through your organsm. All that pressure is gone as you begin to feel a tingling sensation across your body.

After a couple of seconds of rest, you hazily look down to see the sheets drenched by you. James looks at his pants, wondering what he just did to you seeing all your essence on him. You squirted.

It took a lot of self control for James to not end up cumming hands free. His dick is pulsating like crazy as he tries to not succumb to the cloud of lust impairing his decisions. It’s too late.

You feel the mattress and sheets shift as you try to come back to your senses as your eyes wander around the hotel room, you see him on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I can't—” James exhaled in a shaky voice while looking down at your body. “Can we.. for tonight..”

You kissed him boldly for the first time, pressing your lips against his somewhat chapped ones. James' eyes widened but he eventually closed his eyes just as you were doing. He relaxed, getting more comfortable with touching you by rubbing your thighs. When James had the chance, he prodded his tongue in your mouth. You and him shared spit and saliva as your wet tongues went back and forth with each other. Messy like a makeout session but more intimate.

You run your hands over his chest, pulling off for fresh air as a string of saliva connects both of your mouths.

“Please,” You plead in a needy tone, looking into James’ green eyes. You toss your soaked panties to the side, spreading your legs apart feeling your slick coat the insides of your thighs. “Take me..”

Quickly, James unzipped his pants, although fumbling and took his cock out from his boxers. James sighed at the feeling of the cold air, giving his dick a few strokes spreading the leaking beads of precum across his shaft.

God, it looked so pretty. All you could focus on was how lengthy it was. He was well groomed too. You’d clench around nothing thinking about that thing being inside you.

You watch as he rubs himself on you, coating him with your slick. You gasp at the feeling of friction whenever he hits your clit and couldn't come to ignore his little grunts of pleasure.

James slid into you, bullying his cock into you halfway. He’d sigh at the feeling of how tight you were around him. Wet walls encapsulating him as he’d groan at how much he’d missed this feeling. You however, felt the stretch as you gripped onto the sheets. Legs shakingly wrapped around his torso.

He continued to bottom out, forcing his way into you. Hearing the audible squelch that came from you and James from doing so. You hissed at sensation, feeling so filled up as you place an arm covering your eyes arching your back.

-And that’s when something happened.

As you were still adjusting to his size, he quickly pulled out and slammed into you.

James' rapid thrust did not stop. His balls hit you each time he went in and out. He was completely infatuated looking at your body, watching your breasts bounce everytime he did that. You easily accepted his cock because of how drenched your little pussy was. He treated you if you were a fleshlight, something to be taken out on.

“Wa-it-! Too -rough!” You wail, not used to the fast pace. Your hips couldn't keep up with the pace as they quivered, having yourself being pounded by this man. Was it supposed to sting this much?

He ignored your request, drinking up the site of you as he let out a suppressed moan. James watched as your expression grew on your face, showing how lewd you were. Gripping you by your waist he fucks yourself onto him as he plunges into you. More focused on the heat of the moment than the lasting consequences.

Skin slapping echoed off the walls of the room. You try to get a hold of yourself, but your body was reacting in different ways. Your sloppy cunt leaked out onto the messy bed sheets, dirtying the vicinity more. You felt your pelvis rub against his, which already got sticky from you. So many moans left your mouth, but you can’t help but wonder what was going on in James' mind for him to be treating you in this way with the little amount of thought you had left.

“Hah..—You’re -driving me crazy,” James’ exhaled in between grunts having a tighter hold on you. He leaned his head down to your chest and latched onto your nipples. Sucking hard onto your tit as if he was expecting you to lactate out of nowhere or something.

Your head rolled back into the pillows, getting so much stimulation as your body jolted from his assault. The way James treated you during sex was like a cheap hooker and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting for loving all of it. Your legs at this point were in the air and about to give up. You just needed more time to experience this, but based off the way there was buildup of pressure in your core, it wouldn’t last too long.

His saliva coated your chest as he managed to hit the same rigid point in your walls. You let out the most salacious sound as you bucked your hips into him, urging James to do it again. Everytime he managed to grind himself against that one spot you’d tense up and clench around him with your gummy walls. All this time he was holding off the urge to release right in you. You were too good for a guy like him.

James had to reciprocate in one way or the other, so he moved one of his hands from your waist, trailing down to your pelvic region. He got his hands lubricated in your hot slick, and began circling your bundle of nerves sending you ablaze. You tighten around him like a vice, feeling yourself gushing all over his cock. He managed to try and go as deep as he could go, as if he was trying to reach your stomach.

Pleasure hit him like a flood. Warm ropes of semen filled you as he groaned, waiting for his load to empty inside of you.

You feel the substance flow into you. Suddenly, realization hits you and began pressing your hands on his chest.

“-James’ pull-out!” You urged quickly, unsure if Plan-B was available around these parts of town. Even so, James wouldn’t budge off of you. He instead gave a few pumps, riding out his orgasm while rubbing your clit, coaxing you to your bliss in which you quickly followed.

“I’m-!” You sob with a hoarse voice. You held onto James’ shoulders for stability reaching your peak. All the buildup crashes down on you as a pulse is sent all the way from your spine, making you bend your back from the mattress. Milky fluid bubbles out of the seams around his cock. You almost get knocked out from how powerful it was. Crashing onto the sheets.

You both stay in silence, catching your expirated breaths trying to regain yourselves. You hear James heavy breathing as he rests on top of you, engulfing you in a hug.

Moonlight shunned through the windows, being the only source of light in the room. You couldn’t make out his face but he clung onto really hard. Your face went cold after the afterglow washed over. James just came inside of you.

You tried to get him off but he was too heavy, his grip increased more. Almost enough to bruise you. You felt warm splotches on your shirt, looking down at James, beginning to apprehend your situation.

“Mary..” He crooned, burying his face into your chest. “Mary..”

authors note ︵ ✦ Didn’t see that much works for Silent Hill 2 so I thought I’d contribute! Interpret the ending however you like, first fic! Once I get my AO3 account, I’ll probably post this..

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Running with You

Kevin Tran x Winchester sister!reader, Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: just a little series of snippets of your relationship with Kevin (and Sam and Dean…it was mostly supposed to be about Kevin, but those stupid brothers wormed their way into more scenes than I thought they would)

Meeting a prophet for the first time didn’t go exactly as you’d thought it would. First of all, he was your age. Second, he was a total nerd. And third…

He was kind of cute.

The two of you hit it off almost immediately. But of course he had a girlfriend, so you had to back off—but Kevin still made a great friend.

He was incredibly panicked to find out he was a prophet, and your idiot big brothers weren’t very good at calming or comforting, so you took over that role. Ever since then, Kevin and you became fast friends.

You were there for him when his life fell apart. He was there for you when you were scared for Sam���just out of hell and very traumatized. You comforted him when Crowley killed his girlfriend, and…

And you were both there for each other when Dean went to purgatory, and Sam was too traumatized to keep going.

Sam walked away from the leviathan fight with no will to fight…really, no will to live. But when Crowley took Kevin, you couldn’t just let him go.

You were the one who helped Kevin escape, and you were the one who was there with him on the run for a whole year…

…

“C’mon Kevin, let me in! That was the secret knock!”

“But you didn’t do the secret password!” Kevin’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. You groaned.

“Kevin, I did the password.”

“That was the old one.”

“You changed it again,” you groaned. “Kev, I can’t keep up with the password if you change it every week. Just let me in.”

“Fine,” Kevin grumbled, and you heard lock after lock begin to unlock. “But I’m spraying you with holy water the second the door comes open.”

“When have you ever not?” You teased him. True to his word, your face got blasted from Kevin’s water gun the minute the door creaked open. You wiped the water off your face good-naturedly and stepped inside with your groceries. You liked to tease Kevin about all of his safety precautions, but only because it was better than the alternative; if you couldn’t laugh about how scared the two of you were all the time, you’d just…well, you’d just be scared all the time.

The two of you had spent the past year on the run from Crowley and his black-eyes minions, and there was no such thing as too careful. You’d thought about calling Sam once or twice, just to check in, but you didn’t know how. He’d gotten rid of his usual numbers, and so had you; the two of you were completely cut off. That was by far the hardest part of being on the run. You hoped that Sam was happy—that he’d really gotten away from the life like he’d planned—he deserved it, he really did.

You couldn’t blame him for checking out after Dean…after he died. You couldn’t; because you knew exactly how it felt. After Sam had gone to hell, you hadn’t wanted to hunt either. You’d thrown away all your old phones, and you’d gone to Lisa’s with Dean, and you had just checked out. You knew what Dean was doing late at night with those books and with the computer—he was trying to find a way to save Sam. Once or twice you had even found it in you to join him in his research—but the dead ends just hurt too much, and you couldn’t do it anymore.

So you couldn’t blame Sam for checking out the same way. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt, especially since you hadn’t seen him in almost a year.

You forced yourself to shake off your melancholy as you focused on Kevin.

“How’s Patricia?” You asked. “She do anything crazy while I was gone?”

“Just shook the fridge a couple of times.” Kevin shrugged. “She seems to be in a good mood today.”

“Patricia” was an inside joke between you and Kevin. Ever since you’d found this safehouse, the weirdest things seemed to happen inside—the fridge shook in the middle of the night, food went missing, and even good things like the holy water guns being refilled without either of you touching them. You couldn’t remember who had named Patricia, but it didn’t matter; she was here to stay, and you’d done every test for a ghost or a poltergeist with nothing to show for it.

A harsh knock at the now-locked door behind you broke the lightheartedness in the air. You whipped around, and Kevin instinctually raised the holy water gun.

“Y/N?” You could’ve sworn your heart stopped at the sound of your big brother’s voice.

“Sam?” You reached for the handle, but Kevin grabbed your arm.

“It might not be him,” he argued. “Or he could be possessed.”

“Y/N it’s me!” Sam’s voice came again. “I know you’re here, and I know Kevin’s there too. We tracked you down, we need to talk to you.”

Neither you nor Kevin moved, but your mind was now going a mile a minute. Why would Sam track you down after so long? What did he need? And why did he keep saying “we”? The last question seemed the easiest to ask.

“Who’s we?” You demanded. There was a long silence on the other side of the door.

“Honey, please just let me in. I promise I can explain everything, but—“

“How do I know you’re you?” You challenged. Again, you were met with a king silence.

“Sweetheart—“ your heart stopped at the voice of your oldest brother. “Let us in. It…it’s us.”

You threw Kevin’s hand off your arm even as he argued with you—

“Y/N, no, it’s not them, you don’t know that—“

You completely ignored him, pushing him out of your way and clicking lock after lock until finally, you flung the door open to see the two people you missed most in the world.

The three of you stood there in silence, sizing each other up—Sam and Dean seeing how much you’d changed, and you gaping up at your brothers in disbelief. The silence was broken when Kevin took a half step forward and sprayed both of your brothers with his holy water gun.

“Seriously?” Sam grumbled, but Dean didn’t complain. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off you, and you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away from him, either.

“Dean?” You whispered, the sound of his name shattering the silence.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t hug him fast enough.

…

“So…” Dean glanced between you and Kevin, his features twitching into a suspicious glare. “What have you two been up to?”

You’d gotten the year recap from Sam and Dean, so now it was your turn to give your account.

“Oh, you know, running from Crowley,” you scoffed. You knew that wasn’t all that Dean meant—he was eyeing Kevin strangely, and you knew why.

“And you two are…” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes as Dean searched for a word. “What, just besties now?”

“Actually…” Kevin glanced to you for permission, and you nodded subtly. “We’re kinda going out.”

“Well—“ you shot Kevin a wry smile. “Not out. But we’re dating.”

Kevin responded to your smile with one of his own. It wasn’t really possible to leave your safe haven for non-emergencies, but the two of you spent so much time together that dates weren’t all that necessary. You weren’t sure when exactly your relationship with Kevin moved on from “just friends”, but it probably had something to do with the first time you kissed him…

It was at the first safehouse you’d bunkered down in after escaping from the demons. You were both soaked to the skin—you’d gone on a supply run, and it had started raining; you’d had to stuff the groceries under your jackets to keep them dry. The two of you hadn’t been in the safehouse ten minutes before a hoard of demons made their presence known by kicking down the door.

“Kevin!” You yelled a warning to the prophet just as a demon made to grab him—Kevin twisted away just in time, reaching for the holy water gun. He struggled to get a grip on it, his hands still soaked. Before he could, a second demon grabbed onto Kevin’s arm while the third and final demon knocked you back, keeping you away from Kevin.

Your back smashed against the kitchen counter, and you found yourself grasping for anything in reach to use as a weapon. Your hand closed around something cool—glass, maybe. Without even giving it a glance, you threw it at the demon keeping you from defending Kevin.

You got lucky—the glass container shattered against the demon’s face, and he began to scream as the cuts sizzled and burned; it was a salt shaker.

The second and first demon—both of whom now had a hold on Kevin—were momentarily distracted; it was all the prophet needed to twist away long enough to latch his fingers onto the water gun, and he brought it around and sprayed both demons in the face.

“Kevin, let’s go!” You’d gotten around the demons while they howled in pain, and now you hesitated in the doorway, waiting for Kevin to escape with you.

“No!” The demon howled. You saw the knife too late to stop it. “If we can’t have him, no one can!”

The demon buried the knife into Kevin’s stomach.

“No!” You screamed. Kevin gasped in pain—or shock—his mouth hanging open and his eyes darting down to the knife. The first demon glared at you, while the other two shared twin grins; then all three vanished.

“Kevin…” you whimpered as you took hesitant steps forward. Your hands were shaking as you reached for your friend—you knew enough to know not to take the knife out—and you grabbed hold of his jacket and eased it to the side to get a better look at…

The knife, stuck in a pound of ground beef from the market that Kevin had forgotten to take out of his jacket.

Kevin’s face brightened, his features lightening in relief. You just stared for a long minute, unable to still your runaway heart.

“Y/N?” Kevin breathed. “It’s…it’s ok. I’m—“

He never got to finish his sentence. You yanked the stabbed beef out of his inner pocket, throwing it across the room before snatching hold of his collar and yanking him towards you.

Kevin was stiff from shock for the first few seconds of the kiss, but as soon as he realized what was happening, he relaxed.

“Never scare me like that again,” you breathed when you finally pulled away.

Kevin’s grin was a mile wide.

“Yes ma’am.”

You snapped out of your memory when you heard your brothers start to speak.

“Congrats, guys,” Sam muttered awkwardly, while at the same time Dean grumbled—“oh boy.”

You couldn’t resist the eye roll this time—you should’ve known your brothers would make this weird.

“So—“ you broke the awkward silence. “I assume you came here for a reason. What’s going on?”

…

“Hey Kevin, let’s talk.”

Things had been calm for less than five before Dean brought up what you knew was coming.

“Uhh…” Kevin’s panicked eyes met yours. “Yeah, just, uh…just give me a second.” Kevin pulled you out of earshot of Dean.

“What?” You hissed. “You knew this was coming.”

“Yeah but you said you’d be there!” Kevin argued.

“No I didn’t,” you countered. “I said I’d step in if Dean went too far, I never said I’d babysit you any time Dean was around. This conversation is inevitable Kevin, I can’t stop Dean.”

“Fine.” Kevin huffed. “Can we at least have a code word.”

“For what?” You bit back a laugh.

“For if things get crazy!” Kevin struggled to keep his voice at a whisper.

“This isn’t a secret mission, Kevin.” You couldn’t hold back a little snicker at this. “If you need me, just say my name. It doesn’t have to be in code.”

“Your name.” Kevin took a deep breath. “Your name. Ok, I can do that.”

“Good.” You grinned, and you hoped it didn’t look too mocking. “Now go get him.”

…

“See?” You greeted Kevin as he returned from his talk with Dean—Dean looked much more happy than Kevin. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Uh…uh huh,” Kevin muttered. You cringed.

“He was a jerk, wasn’t he?” You asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh boy. C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream.”

…

“Hey Sam,” you greeted as you and Kevin watched Sam stride purposefully into the war room of the bunker. Sam however, didn’t say a word.

In three long strides, he reached Kevin. You watched in bewilderment as Sam stretched out his hand, realizing too late the truth—it wasn’t Sam.

His eyes flashed blue just as Dean burst into the room behind him.

“No!” Dean cried, and you turned just in time to see Sam—Gadreel—press his open palm against Kevin’s forehead. Kevin’s eyes flashed bright white.

You were screaming, you knew you were screaming. You could hear the inhuman screech piercing the air, but somehow it didn’t feel like you—you felt absent from your body, you felt like a floating, frozen nothing, forced to watch as your boyfriend slumped to the floor, his eyes just charred remains, as someone who was supposed to be your big brother turned his back and walked away.

“Kevin?” Dean choked. The air was a vacuum of nothing—no one moved, no one breathed, as you and Dean waited for a response that you both knew wasn’t coming.

You were reaching for him now, desperate to help him, to bring him back…but Dean pulled you away, turning you until your face pressed into his shoulder so you couldn’t get a closer look at your boyfriend.

As if he could make you unsee what had already scarred itself into your mind.

…

“Kevin?”

You held your breath as the apparition in front of you blinked out, then stabilized. It was him—after all this time, it was him.

“Yes!” Kevin breathed—could ghosts breathe?—a sigh of relief when he realized you all could see him. “I’ve been haunting this place for weeks and all you guys do is mope. It’s about time.”

“Kevin?” You said again, like you still didn’t believe it.

Kevin let his eyes wander for a long moment towards you, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for you.

“I don’t know how long I have,” he said, reluctantly turning his gaze back to your brothers. “So listen up.”

…

“My mom’s going to take me home until you guys can get the veil closed.” Kevin avoided looking at you as he spoke.

“Ok,” Dean said, and Sam nodded.

You huffed, uncomfortable with the silence.

“Can I have a minute?” You asked your brothers. They shuffled away without a word.

“It’s what I want,” Kevin said before you could speak. “I don’t want to just…being here as a ghost, it’s too much. It’s not what I want.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” you said quickly. “I…I wish you could stay here, but I understand your choice. I know it’s not the same as really being here.”

Silence reigned for several seconds.

“This sucks,” Kevin huffed finally. You couldn’t help but crack a sardonic smile.

“Yeah, it really sucks.”

“I wish we could’ve had more time.”

“Yeah.” You smirked. “We were quite the power couple.”

“Well now you’re just being cheesy,” Kevin chuckled, and you grinned.

“Hey, we got to at least try out that relationship thing—I guess that’s gonna have to be good enough.” You sighed. “Try not to drive your mom too crazy, ok?”

“Ok,” Kevin scoffed. “But only if you promise to fix your stupid brothers’ argument.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promised. Kevin turned to go. “Hey Kev?”

“Yeah?”

“Say hi to Patricia for me, ok?”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[undiscovered-horizon]

[When the curse activity rises around the country, you reluctantly return to the school to help the sorcerers. Gojo Satoru seizes the opportunity to plead the case of his lovesickness. If you came back, maybe you and him can come back together, too?]

You've often wondered how it would feel to come back. Would you be excited? Or would the weight of the memories push you to the ground? How many things would be different and how many would you recognize?

A bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. You're a grown woman and yet you're nervous like an 8-year-old with mismatched socks. The overhead sign Jujutsu Tech feels imposing as though the genius loci of the school is telling you to turn back and leave; just like it did when you were a teenager, entering an unfamiliar world of unfathomable possibilities. The girl you used to be, afraid of what the future is bound to hold, could never imagine the respect and awe with which your name is spoken now. It's almost miraculous, really.

But there are more important things at hand than melancholy.

You sigh, pushing yourself to walk forward. The rock steps feel the same under your feet as they did years ago, the wooden floorboards inside the entry room still creak in the same note. For what it's worth, nothing about Jujutsu Tech seems any different than it did then.

Nothing.

You know very well he's sitting in the corner, staring at you. It's a habit he has picked up quite a long time ago - watching, observing, studying. He used to do that only to learn a few things about you and appear as charming as he possibly could. But with time this little unnerving habit stuck around.

At first, he looks laid-back. Overconfident, as he usually is. Although you know him a little too well and so you notice the way he's crossing his arms on his chest, his shoulders tense and raised. The greatest sorcerer in the world is nervous when in the presence of his high school sweetheart.

"Long time no see, Satoru," you finally speak up.

"You're even prettier than I remember," he answers, bothering to sound casual. He almost succeeds.

"And you're exactly the same, it seems."

You stare him up and down. The blindfold in place of sunglasses and the plain, black robes make him appear more professional. Still, Satoru's untamed white hair gives him a juvenile look. Maturity is supposed to arrive with age but perhaps the age arrived alone in his case.

Gojo sits further back on the old couch. He rests his hands behind his head. A half-grin curves his lips - the very same smile that always made you equally annoyed and weak in the knees. Truly, if Satoru wasn't as charming as he is, you'd have strangled him years ago.

"Ah," he sighs. "Perfection can't be improved."

Crossing your arms on your chest, you give him a playful look. "Then how come I'm supposedly prettier?"

Suddenly, Gojo leans forward. "Good question." He rubs his chin in faux thoughtfulness. You've learned better than to trust his little theatrics, no matter how amusing they are. "I never understood how this works. Just when I thought you're equal to a goddess, you make all of them look plain."

You feel your hands shaking. If your heart doesn't slow down soon, you might have a serious problem. As warm as your face gets, you hope the blush is not visible. How embarrassing to fall again for his wax poetic right away...

Trying to hide how flustered his words have made you, you force out a chuckle. "Gojo Satoru, always the sweet-talker, eh?"

Despite your best attempt at dismissing the entire situation, the man in front of you seems to have caught on to your bashfulness. After all those years, has he been craving to see you blushing and giggling again?

"If you keep saying my name like that, I might fall in love with you," he warns you half-heartedly.

The realization hits you at one moment. Something you've been suspecting, maybe hoping for even, has been proven right between his smooth talking and shaky breaths. Now that you think about it, it's all painfully obvious: how excited he seems to see you again, the immediate rush to dish out compliments and the rather poor attempt at appearing all suave and laid-back.

"You never fell out," you declare with undeniable certainty in your voice. "Did you?"

Something about the air changes instantly. The sparks of a maybe-rekindled romance have gone out, leaving both of you cold and distant towards each other.

Those few seconds of silence feel almost like hours. The quietness is ringing in your ears, pushing at your thoughts to say something. Anything! Just stop this suffocating unease from eating you alive.

This time, it's Gojo who breaks the silence first. "I stand by what I said back then: you're the one for me. It's either you or no one."

Fortunately, unforeseen aid comes almost immediately - before the tension between the two of you could choke you, a cacophony of teen voices, seemingly engaged in a loud feud, echoes throughout the building.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (2/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest but they were unaware children, the angst, woman on the rape pill, suicidal thoughts, therapy ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The memory of that holiday haunted her for many years; a mixture of sadness, melancholy, regret and longing blended into one in her mind making her live in the past and present at the same time.

Although she had trouble remembering what she had been doing the day before, she remembered perfectly the expression on his face that day when Jace had taken his boxers from him – she saw the exact moment when he closed his eyes, heartbroken, and burst out sobbing like a small child.

Although he pretended to be an aloof boy who was unaffected by anything, in that moment his mask broke before her eyes showing how vulnerable he was.

The fact that he pushed her away after she helped him hurt her, but it didn't stop her from doing what she did next either.

"What is this? Are you still sleeping with the light on?" Jace asked, looking in her backpack for his book that he liked to read before bed.

She pressed her lips together, covering herself more tightly with the duvet.

"Yes." She muttered.

Jace snorted and shook his head.

"Only babies sleep with the light on. You need to get over your fear. You're already big." He said finally, unplugging her lamp, taking it with him.

"– n-no – I –" She whimpered, but her brother simply turned off the light and left her room.

"– you'll be fine –" He called out, and she hid under the duvet, panting heavily.

Her imagination always caused her clothes lying on the chair or various objects standing on the desk to remind her of disturbing, frightening shapes in the dark.

She was very afraid of them and of the fact that if she closed her eyes and just lay there, the monsters would slowly approach her until they devoured her.

She pulled the duvet slowly off her head and swallowed hard, seeing that the wardrobe was ajar, one of the long dresses spilling out of it like a glistening black ooze. She thought she heard a rustling sound and jumped when something hit the windowsill.

She thought she couldn't stand it – she burst out crying, pulled herself up and ran out of the room.

She didn't know where to go, afraid that if she complained to her mum about Jace he would later tease her even more or that worse, Rhaenyra would admit he was right.

That's why she stood in the corridor, terrified of being surrounded by darkness on all sides.

She walked to his door, knowing he would be furious, and opened it, breathing heavily – she heard him rise on his arms, his sleepy face with furrowed brows directed towards her.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled, trying to calm her breathing. "– can I sleep with you? –"

"– you must be crazy –" He said impatiently.

"– they took away my little lamp – Jace said I'm already big and I can't sleep with the light on – but I'm so scared –" She confessed with shame, feeling like all those children who wet their bed in their sleep and had to wake their parents to change their sheets.

Her uncle looked at her for a long moment before giving in, agreeing reluctantly, threatening to kill her with his own hands if anyone found out. She climbed onto his bed with relief and, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers, slept peacefully that night and all the nights that followed.

Despite his initial frustration with her daily nightly visits, he eventually allowed her to read books with him or even cuddle with him.

She noticed that the fact that she didn't tease him like her brothers did made him calmer around her and therefore, in essence, nicer.

She liked the fact that he stopped avoiding her, taking her along on his expeditions – they searched in the sand for unique treasures: old coins, unusual stones or shells, cartridges and other objects of interest.

They invented their own missions and tasks, pretending they were great explorers of ancient temples hidden under the desert sands, and dug deep holes hoping to really find something.

Usually they discovered beer bottles, however, it was all about the whole process, not the result, pretending that traps, poisonous insects or great windstorms lurked everywhere to force them to turn back from their path.

She enjoyed the way he made her feel with him as if they were characters from a book or a film: as it usually happened, although typically the partners didn't like each other at first, later they became inseparable companions, and each new day was another episode of the series in which they played leading roles.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked her one day, walking side by side with her by the sea shore – they were just returning from an expedition where she had found lots of beautiful, large shells in which she believed mermaids' songs were enchanted.

She wanted very much to be a mermaid and hoped they would help her succeed.

However, his question turned her thoughts away from the matter, making her heart beat harder in her chest.

"No. And you?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle pressed his lips together, looking everywhere but at her.

"No."

They were silent for a long moment, embarrassed to be talking about such unusually adult matters.

She wondered if he wanted to ask her for advice on some amorous matter, to make her help him win the heart of the girl he secretly fancied, and she felt a twinge in her stomach at the thought.

"And would you like to have one? A boyfriend, I mean." He asked further, startling her. She blinked, looking at him with amusement.

What was he getting at with these questions?

"Well. It depends if I would like him." She said truthfully.

"Do you like me?" He muttered, and she giggled, feeling a pleasant, warm sensation spread through her heart.

"Yes."

"So?"

"What are you asking?"

She saw him press his lips together, clearly not wanting to appear a fool if there was a misunderstanding between them.

She thought she would take pity on him.

"I can be your girlfriend, but that will mean I get to hold your hand sometimes or give you a kiss." She said warmly.

Her uncle looked at her, his eyes shining in hope, embarrassment and disbelief. He hummed, pondering her words, terrified and excited at the same time.

"…but only when we're alone." He muttered.

"Alright."

Later that night he kissed her for the first time and did so repeatedly for many days afterwards.

His lips were pleasant to the touch, warm and moist, his hands touching her face full of delicacy and tenderness.

Years later, she realised that their kisses were a simple pressing of one lips against the other, without finesse or tongues, the way one would kiss an aunt or a mother on the cheek. There was nothing ambiguous about them – it was just that adults did it too, and it made them both feel more mature.

And then he came to her, pale, and although they had arranged another trip, neither of them had gone to the beach that day.

"– I'm breaking up with you –"

She shook her head, feeling her heart stop for a moment.

"– but –"

"– you're my niece – you can't be my girlfriend – sleep with your brother or your mum tonight –"

She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling the cold sweat on her back, her throat squeezed tight while her eyes filled with burning tears of disappointment.

He had deceived her, used her, played with her to frustrate her brothers.

And then Luke hit him on the head with a bottle, and its shards smashed into his face. As Aemond and Alicent drove to the hospital, her grandfather, Viserys told her mother to return home.

"– it was an unfortunate accident, but it would be better if you left sooner – your presence will only make things worse, Alicent needs to cool off –" He said, her brother, Luke, as she did, sat on the couch and was shaking, whooping with tears.

Despite her desperate pleas and her attempt to escape, her parents locked her in the car saying it was better that way and drove off, without goodbye, without explanation, without compensation.

All the way home she cried, clutching in her hand a piece of paper with his phone number on it, which she found slipped under the door of her room that same morning.

She spent the next few weeks pretty much just crying and sleeping, refusing to eat or drink, feeling that her life was over before it really began.

The boy who broke her heart had been hurt by her family and she didn't know how she was ever going to look him in the face at the family table again.

It turned out that her mother had simply only been in contact with her grandfather from then on, saying that perhaps it would be better that way.

That maybe this would separate them from this world.

At the time, she didn't understand what she meant.

The first text message she sent him was when she overheard her brothers talking, saying that her uncle would now have an artificial eye like a terminator.

The sense of guilt and regret that he was left alone with this didn't give her peace that night, and although she hadn't slept with the light on for a long time, she liked to imagine with her eyes closed that he was lying next to her.

It calmed her down.

She took her phone in her hand, chose his number in her contacts and began to text everything that was on her heart.

But he never wrote her back even though she sent him hundreds of messages: ones about her daily life, what she was doing, reading or listening to.

She send him Christmas and birthday wishes, asked about his health, how he was doing at school, but never got any response from him.

Many times she thought about calling him, but she still kept the card he had left her, which said under his number:

CALL ONLY IN A LIFE-THREATENING EMERGENCY.

She was afraid that if she called him saying that she simply missed him, she would anger him even more. Her parents no longer spent Christmas with his family, and after her father was shot dead, presumably for trying to escape the mafia life, she completely broke down.

Her mother decided to send her to therapy when she started high school.

She remembered clearly the smell of that clinic and the doctor who sat in front of her: a middle-aged man with round glasses on his nose, his voice calm and quiet, full of patience and understanding.

All around them were plants in pots and it made her feel a little cosier.

"Tell me about the friend you mentioned to me on your last visit." He started and she pressed her lips together, feeling cold sweat on her back and discomfort in her chest.

She was afraid to tell him what they had done, who he was.

She was afraid of his appraising gaze, of the fact that he would think she was disgusting.

"He was… my uncle."

The doctor corrected his glasses on his nose, intrigued and concerned at the same time.

"How old was he then?"

"He's two years older than me."

"Oh. I see." The man smiled, as if with a kind of relief that surprised her. She grunted quietly, twisting in her seat.

"He really is my uncle. My mother's brother from the second marriage."

"I understand, however, your age has surely made you treat each other more like cousins. Am I wrong?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No."

"You said that when your brother took your lamp, he let you sleep in his bed. Something happened then?" He continued and she shook her head, horrified at what he might have implied.

"N-no. I… we just slept next to each other. Sometimes I'd cuddle up to his arm or his back when I was scared. It made him angry that I was coming to him, but he felt sorry for me."

The man nodded in understanding and smiled.

"You felt safe with him."

"Yes." She confessed with shame, looking down at her hands, feeling her heart in her throat.

"Are you two still friends? Are you two supportive of each other?"

She pressed her lips together, feeling tears burning under her eyelids, unable to get the words out for a moment.

She couldn't even look him in the eye.

"No."

"Why? What happened?"

"He lost his eye because of my brother."

"Does he blame you for that?"

"No…I mean. God." She muttered, burying her face in her hands, feeling like she was about to vomit or pass out.

This had been weighing on her heart for too long.

She needed to confide in someone.

"He, during that holiday… he asked if I would become his girlfriend. We kissed. Fuck! I didn't know about it, neither of us knew we shouldn't do it! That it was wrong, that we were too closely related." She exhaled with difficulty, finally bursting out crying, feeling hot, overpowering shame flowing in waves through her body.

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"How long were you two together?" He asked.

She wiped her red cheeks with her palm, trying to calm and focus.

"A few days. Maybe a week."

"Why did you stop being together?"

"Because he broke up with me. He told me we couldn't be together." She mumbled, feeling like a complete idiot. "It wasn't until later that I realised what he'd found out, what incest was and what we'd done."

"There is a seeker nature in children. They watch adults and want to behave like them. Until their parents introduce them to the rules of the world it seems to them that the world doesn't have them. Even more so when it comes to social norms. Neither you nor your friend knew at the time that such relationships were not universally accepted. Up to that point you were family to each other, but also girlfriend and boyfriend. Looking at a child's decisions from an adult's perspective is ineffective."

He explained, making her, for some reason, feel better. She looked at him and shook her head.

"It's just… he was close to me. He was a good looking boy. He was kind to me. I felt safe with him. He didn't want to take advantage of me, I know that."

"So why are you creating a situation in your mind that what you did was the result of your premeditation when neither of you knew then what you know now?"

He asked, and she remained silent, not knowing what to answer him.

"It's just… ever since then I've felt a constant, heavy, overwhelming shame, crushing me like a stone." She muttered without strength, feeling that she had probably expressed the core of her feelings in this.

The man nodded at her words.

"It's natural. Shame accompanies us as a regulator of decency in our lives. I once read about a theory that God, when he banished Adam and Eve from paradise, did not make them bare: they were like that, they just realised their nakedness, and original sin made them feel shame for the first time. It is shame and fear of punishment that make us not walk naked in the street, that we guard our intimacy."

On the bus ride home, she reflected deeply on his words, feeling as if she had awoken, as if her senses had sharpened, allowing her to see the world again as it was.

She realised that all her life she had been punishing herself for feeling something for him and that it felt good, even though some part of her was telling her that she should be disgusted with herself.

She decided to forgive herself.

She felt much better and even started dating, trying to forget what had happened, to create a relationship that wasn't stigmatised.

Although she was smiling, she resented herself for looking at those boys, hearing the sound of the sea in the back of her head, his voice coming to her as if from afar.

I'm afraid of monsters too.

Everything changed when one day she received a message that made her heart stop.

She had no idea what she should be thinking: only a year after her father's death, her mother had begun dating Daemon, who had at first frightened her, and although Rhaenyra had said she wanted to end with the mafia half-world, the man she had married shortly afterwards had drawn them even deeper into it.

Daemon was an unpredictable and dangerous man, but loyal to his principles, his family and above all – her mother.

In some strange way, incomprehensible to her, they truly loved each other.

What she appreciated about his character was that he gave her and her brothers a choice: he said he did not intend to condemn them to sink into his world, but if they chose to go their own way, they were to devote themselves to study and education.

She and Luke chose to study, but Jace, to her and her mother's despair, wanted to be like him.

They eventually moved into his large house on the outskirts of the city together with his daughters from his first marriage – at first it was quite strange and awkward, even more so when they ate all together, but then Baela and Rhaena opened up to her, becoming, in her eyes, part of her family.

Daemon could sense when she was lying: he would then look at her with furrowed brows and say that he wanted to talk to her in private, which always made her heart pound like crazy with fear.

She was genuinely scared of him.

"I know you're hiding something inside. I can feel it and I don't like the fact that you're not being honest with me." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette, standing with her in the garden.

She lowered her gaze, pale, not knowing what to answer him.

"I won't play your father, but I can see that you are lost. You isolate yourself, you rarely see your friends, you're still studying. You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it and you'll regret it one day."

She couldn't describe how much his words hurt her.

They hurt her because he saw right through her and described her life in a few simple words.

You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it.

It sounded better than the thought that she had no desire to live at all.

She felt that something had been missing inside her since that holiday, some part of her heart had been ripped out and thrown into the sea, and she felt defective, her interior filled with an emptiness.

Despite being surrounded by many people, she was lonely.

For a long time she wondered what to make of the message she had received: its tone made it seem as if there was something she and her siblings had not been told about her father's death.

She feared it was some sort of mafia hijacking, a trap for Daemon and one of her brothers – she decided she would tell Baela where she was going so that if she didn't return someone would start looking for her.

"Heavenly Beach? It's a dangerous place. I'll go with you." She said, concerned.

"No. I was supposed to come alone. It's just… if I'm not back by three o'clock wake up Daemon and tell him where I am."

"Do you have your pocket knife?"

"Yes."

She told Daemon and her mother that she was going to a friend's for a sleepover: the frustrated look on her stepfather's face told her that he didn't believe her, but apparently even he, knowing her nature, didn't suspect what she wanted to do.

Heavenly Beach belonged to his rival.

To her father's brother, Larys Strong.

She arrived by taxi, surprised at how large crowds stood waiting to enter the club. She wondered if she should wait in line with them, but after a while her phone vibrated and she got another message from an unknown number.

So she did, and the broad, bulky man told her to open her backpack and show him what she had inside.

She thanked God that she had hidden her pocket knife in her bra.

The man nodded for her to follow him and together they went down the stairs to the underground consisting of several large rooms in which music was booming, the flashing coloured lights around her made her feel as if she had gone blind. She swallowed hard, spotting her uncle in one of the VIP boxes.

Larys Strong had indeed greeted her with a bouquet of roses.

The thought that he was the one she would be talking to reassured her, and that was her mistake.

"I'm very glad you came. Sit down, please." He said softly, his smile warm and welcoming while his hand pointed to the other side of the couch, a safe distance away. She smiled too and sat down where he indicated to her, sighing in relief.

"Forgive me for only contacting you now, but this matter keeps me awake. I know you are the most cautious of your siblings, which is why I preferred not to take the risk and invite your brothers. I fear they would take it badly and it could lead to some…complications." He said, making her feel an unpleasant squeeze in her stomach.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll get to that in a moment. But first, let's order something to drink. Would you like a vodka and coke?" He asked, and she shook her head quickly.

"No, thank you, I don't want anything." She muttered.

Larys nodded at a man standing nearby, who approached him after a moment.

"Ned, get me a whisky and a glass of water for this young lady." He said calmly. The man nodded and disappeared after a moment, heading towards the large bar behind her.

"Back on topic: I am in a very difficult situation. Unfortunately, the person who was involved in his death is also a close associate of mine, which makes everything very complicated. However, I believe that my brother deserves for at least one of his children to know the truth." He said, getting serious suddenly, and she listened to him in suspense, horrified.

"Otto Hightower ordered his murder. Harwin was still snooping around, looking for hooks on them, even thinking of co-operating with the police."

She stared at him dully, feeling a complete void in her mind.

Otto Hightower had ordered his murder.

What?

As the man placed a glass of water in front of her and a whisky in front of her uncle her mind was in a state of complete panic. It made her forget what Daemon and her father had always told her.

Never drink anything that has not been poured into a glass in your presence.

"Easy. I know this is difficult for you. You have to be careful with these people, they are dangerous. Drink some water, it will help." He said, and for some reason she listened to him, grabbing the glass, taking a few deep sips from it, feeling that she was trembling all over from nerves.

Viserys's associate was her father's murderer.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" She muttered, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling strange, as if her head was spinning.

"You have to be careful. Anyone who enters this world once will never leave it again. Don't try to cooperate with the police." He replied with a smile, his tone slightly changed, as if what he saw before him and her reaction pleased him.

It seemed to her that the music around her had begun to quiet, as if it was coming from far away, she tried to focus her thoughts but was unable to.

The cold sweat of terror and fear ran down her neck as she realised what had happened.

What she had done.

"I'm sorry, I feel sick from what I heard. I'm going to go… to the toilet." She muttered, getting up from her seat with difficulty and walked ahead towards the sign she could see from afar.

She was dizzy as if she had drunk ten shots, the burning tears of despair making her barely see where she was going.

The light in the bathroom almost blinded her – she locked herself in one of the cabins and slumped to her knees, breathing heavily, pulling her phone out of her backpack, thinking with horror that if she called Daemon and Jace and they raised hell in here, they might shoot them.

She needed to call someone they wouldn't hurt and then it dawned on her.

Aemond.

Call only in a life-threatening emergency.

The screen of her phone seemed blurry to her as she struggled to type in her code and began searching for his number in her contacts. When she finally saw his name she clicked on it and put the phone to her ear, leaning her head against the wall, feeling the cold tiles under her buttocks, the female voices coming from behind the door seemed to her to be just a dream.

"– please – please, please, please –" She muttered, hearing that there was a signal, that he hadn't thrown or blocked that card.

She swallowed hard when the sound silenced and she heard a noise on the other side.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled in a trembling voice feeling tears of terror, helplessness and fear run down her face, her body numb and heavy.

"– what is it? –" She heard his voice, cold and matter-of-fact, and although he sounded very different from when they were children, a wave of heat and a familiar, pleasant sensation she hadn't felt in years ran through her body.

"– G-God – they must have – they must have put something into my drink –" She cried out, bursting into sobs, thinking about the fact that she was about to lose consciousness and they would do whatever they wanted to her and her body.

Daemon warned her.

Never lie to me.

"– what? – fuck – where are you? –" She heard his voice as if in the distance.

She furrowed her brow, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to, where she was, and what she wanted to do.

"– Rhaenys – focus – fucking speak to me –"

"– I – mmm – I don't know – I think... – ...I think I'm in the toilet –" She muttered finally, looking around her thinking that indeed, this room looked like a toilet.

She felt that she was very tired and just wanted to sleep.

"– in what toilet? – in the club? –" He asked further, his voice sounding as if he was furious.

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, feeling her mind drifting away and remembered that she had seen palm trees before entering this place.

"– yes – in the... – ...club – like... – ...one... – ...with palm trees –" She muttered, and then her mind enveloped in complete darkness.

She thought she felt the touch of someone's hand, heard someone's voice, but she wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality.

When she woke up, she was blinded by the light – she hissed and covered her face, only realising after a moment that she was lying in her bed, in Daemon's house. When she turned her face she saw her stepfather sitting in a chair, looking at her with eyes she knew well.

He was furious.

"I asked you. I thought you were a smarter girl, but you are clearly just a plain, naive idiot." He hissed, as usual saying exactly what he was thinking.

She pressed her lips together, feeling pain in her heart at his words, realising that she had a huge black hole in her memory.

"What happened?"

"You called Aemond. They could have raped you there, and instead of calling me you called the person who could have helped them." He scoffed, raising his voice, annoyed.

"He was here?"

"And how do you think you got here? That you were brought here by a fairy?" He sneered, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with wide eyes.

Even though she should have felt horror at what had happened to her, all she could think about was feeling his hand, hearing his voice.

And then she remembered.

His voice.

His words.

You don't even know how many real monsters lurk in its shadows.

[hoiststowline]

mindless touches & other sentiments + envy/jeaousy hc's [hoist edition!]

[a/n: all thanks to @drabbletron ‘s wonderful idea to put ‘em both together🫶]

hoist is probably the number one offender of mindless touches, certainly someone who doesn't realize he's doing it at all. he's not even vaguely aware of the fact he's drawing circles across your back, just an immediate reaction upon coming in arms reach to his s/o. it's meant to be a comforting gesture for both you and himself, it eases the tension from your shoulders the same way it relaxes his frame. it's also the sort of thing that could put you right to sleep, with how soft and gentle his motions are, its a soothing action of endearment. hoist probably doesn't register your sleepiness until he catches your poorly stifled yawns, though they still escape you anyways. it's a calming touch, yet an entrancing one too.

he isn't a chatterbox, but he's one of the most earnest listeners. hoist can remember something you said two weeks ago, offering up the information nonchalantly as if he just happened to commit it to memory. no big deal. yet, the way you look at him with a mix of utter shock and impressiveness makes his voicebox hitch. anything you say in conversation with him, casually or not, he's listening. hoist is all but too familiar with the feeling of inattentiveness, and wants his s/o to feel that they could tell him anything and everything. he's very observant as well, noticing and picking up on all of your nuisances. there's no use in trying to pull a fast one on him, he can tell straight away if you're being dishonest, whether it be how you're feeling health-wise or emotionally.

hoist instantly smiles whenever he sees his s/o. you can't see it, nobody does, but it's a change of demeanor that is rather potent, at least to him. he is just so genuinely happy to see his s/o, particularly after a long day or a period of time spent apart. hoist has come to enjoy short acts of affection, hugs especially. casual pda is more his speed, mostly things similar to light touches, primarily to your arm or a knee. it's come to be a wordless and silent conversation, tapping at each other until he hits a ticklish spot. then you're laughing until your cheeks hurt and hoist is too enthralled by your laughter to stop.

-

a jealous hoist does exist, but it is stored so far into his psyche that he mistakes it for being inadequate. he's felt a loneliness and disconnect for a long time, so seeing his s/o interact in a friendly manner with others, it takes a while to process privately. he would never call anybody out on it, it's self-brooding that buries him until he simply cannot take it anymore. it's internal conflict, hoist knows his s/o and is confident as well as fully aware that nothing is occurring. but even that inner reassurance sometimes isn't enough, fearful he's watching someone he loves so dearly slip through his fingers at an unstoppable rate. it's a temporary blindness, the uneasy thoughts never last very long, but they do arrive unannounced.

once he brings it up with his s/o, he realizes it's jealousy after it's all said aloud. it's alarmingly childish and he can't believe he hadn't perceived it sooner, or else he would have brushed it off and never bothered you with it. hoist fully comprehends he has nothing to be intimidated by, but there is always that notion that nags him that he isn't good enough for you. that there's someone out there that deserves you and all your wonderful attributes, that he's only weighing you down. you don't take to that kindly, hopeful to ease his melancholy by any means necessary. envy is a feeling so closely associated with inferiority, principally among his peers. to feel and to be someones first choice is such a overwhelming but wonderful sensation, filled with so much love. after talking it through, he can understand why such discontent arose, but is now better suited it combat it.

[sveetbabied0ll]

i’m a big girl now but the little me who sat all by herself on the swing set still lingers. working my big girl job and suddenly a wave of bittersweet melancholy hits me. the same feeling i got whenever little me would sit alone by herself on the school bus, gazing out the window wondering what was going to happen. cooking dinner as a young woman but feeling the same way i did when i was eight and playing silently with my dolls, not knowing why i didn’t feel okay. someone raises their voice and i feel the same way i did when little me heard her father yell and insult and emotionally abuse her for the first time. not knowing why i’m in a different period of my life now but baby me who tried so hard to make friends, who felt embarrassed when she had to wear lace frilly socks with her ballet flats to school, who felt big me’s depression in advance still talks to me. i didn’t realize little me felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, too.

[asapeveryday]

THE LOOK OF LOVE - HQ

basically: the exact moment they realized they liked you

featuring: (timeskip)hinata, (high school)kageyama, tsukishima, yamaguchi

warnings: none!

a/n: lmk what we think of this!!! I can take requests for any other characters you wanna see with this prompt :)

♡HINATA - didn’t realize until you came to visit him in Brazil for the first time. he’d become accustomed to the foreign country and learned to live with the little aching feeling inside that he was missing out, but still something more than melancholy emotions would fester every time he’d open his phone to see this Lock Screen: a picture of his high school volleyball team seniors with you as a manager included. When you let him know you were coming to Brazil for vacation he wasn’t just excited, he was nervous. Absolutely nervous, like, pre-game nervous, and he had no idea why. You two were good friends during school. He enjoyed spending time with you, he sought you out to help him study, to go for bike rides or just to pepper in the gym till evening. When he came to meet you at the airport and you ran to hug him tight, your touch practically burned and he wasn’t expecting to feel you so plush against him, hearts beating against each other. The sound of your voice and the sight of your face after so long turned on a light bulb in his head. Right there in the middle of the airport he understands why he once craved your company over others, why he’s jittering at the thought of your eyes on him. The saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” had never been more true…not that he would know of the line anyways.

♡KAGEYAMA - is almost frustrated at first. He’s laying on his bed tossing his volleyball towards the ceiling while thinking his usual thoughts. Going pro, quick attacks, tough classes, new training. It’s his nightly routine, it’s practiced and comfortable. Until his mind drifts to you and the ball hits his face. He’s not sure why his steel-like focus is being tested now, and he’s not sure what you’ve done to cause this, but it’s alien and hard to avoid. For every distraction he thinks of, a scene of you plays in his mind in retaliation. For a moment he stops tossing the ball and just holds it to his chest, brows furrowed and mind racing. He lets the thoughts of you run rampant, a memory of you watching his game, another of your interactions in class, a conversation he should have forgotten but he hasn’t. He brushes it off still, until he sees you at school and he gets this lurching, elevator-dropping feeling in his stomach at the sight of your smile. It’s terrifying and it’s exhilarating, like pulling off a new combination during an important game. That’s when begins to understand that despite the newness of his interest in you, despite how different you are from volleyball, the thought of your hand grazing his gives him that same rush he usually only feels on the court. He’d do anything to feel that rush.

♡ TSUKISHIMA - is aware almost immediately, he’s not one to deny his feelings or be oblivious, though he’s not exactly about to confess either. It starts with little things: he catches himself staring at you and looking away just before you catch him, he listens to songs you like on repeat in some effort to feel what you feel when you hear them, he gets the urge to tease his teammate’s a little harder when you’re around (not that it impresses you much, but he can’t help it), he enjoys standing next to you even in silence, he appreciates your maturity and even when you act stupid he takes note of the fact that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. It’s during one of these little actions that it truly hits him though. He’s staring at you again, taking in your features as if it’s the first time he’s seeing them. Unfortunately he’s too slow to avert his gaze and you finally catch him in the act. You don’t break eye contact, it’s just held for a moment across class as if you two are the only ones in the room. He hates how his hands are sweating, and he hates how he’s the first to look away in attempts to seem uncaring, but he knows then for a fact that he likes you. He probably makes it a point to never make it so obvious again, though.

♡YAMAGUCHI - is by far the most emotionally mature of all of them, however he’s not used to girls liking him back. He’s had crushes and he’s grown used to one sided interest, to secret and unrequited affection. For his feelings to truly be validated he’d need the green light from you first and foremost. The turning point for him, from hopeless pining to full on crushing it takes a heartfelt conversation. You’re walking around with him after practice, Tsuki is farther ahead in hopes of getting home earlier, but Yamaguchi doesn’t mind lagging behind if it means talking with you. It’s dark out and the air is crisp, you’re sucking him in with talk of an ambitious future, fruitful sports seasons and eagerness regarding his improvements as a player. Your hands are just next to each other, dangerously close to a brush of skin. He has the electrifying urge to let his fingers meet yours but the idea is shut down like it’s muscle memory. You, however, don’t suffer from rejection just as bad as he does, because your pinky entwines with his as your conversation carries on. The two of you both don’t acknowledge the small act of pda, but there’s a mutual expression of giddy content that wasn’t quite there before. It’s all he needs to know you’re someone he’s willing to pursue.

[turbulentscrawl]

A Little Support

The boys just need a little love to ease the pain <3

Prisoner/Luca Balsa x reader | Prospector/Norton Campbell x reader

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Norton Campbell

Yesterday he had a fight with Naib. A real fight, not their usual argumentative banter. It had almost come to blows too, you heard, until Norton suddenly turned on his heels and locked himself in his room. He’d been there ever since.

You were close enough with Norton to know the two sides of his proverbial flipping-coin. The face he showed yesterday wouldn’t have stayed locked away for long; it was too restless, too confrontational. Which meant the venom of the altercation had flipped him back to the safer, melancholy face you were so familiar with.

So here you were, struggling to carry a bulky, portable record player, a selection of records, and a small handbasket of food to his door. Frankly, managing to balance it all while you knocked was a feat worthy of recognition, but Norton just looked bemused when his face peered out from a cracked opening.

“Can I come in?” you ask, when he looked you over and still didn’t say anything. “I brought some stuff.” You nod down to the record player in your arms. Norton’s expression sours, but he instinctively reaches to take the pile of heavy items from you. You manage to shove just the food basket into his hands and slip into his bedroom.

It’s messier than usual inside, but you expected as much. The few spare articles of clothes he owns are strewn about. Books, paper, and a lone candle are sprayed out from his desk as if he’d swiped it clear in a rage. The space was convenient for the record player, at least.

When you turn around to look him over, Norton has already swiped a bread roll from the basket and shoved most of it in his mouth. His hair is mussed and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, sans gloves, shoes, and suspenders. The bags under his eyes are worse.

“What’s all this for?” he asks, setting the basket down and rifling through the rest of its contents.

“For us!” You announce.

“Us, huh?” He repeats, in his thinking-voice.

“Yes. I’m going to teach you some dance moves.”

“I already know how to dance,” he says matter-of-factly. You can’t suppress the goofy smile that comes with visions of his rare-but-passionate flailing.

“By yourself,” you corrected. “I’ve never seen you dance with a partner.” Something like embarrassment or shame pushes his eyes away from yours for a flicker. You know he’s never really done anything with a partner, romantic or otherwise. No dinner, no dances, very few hurried trysts. He’d always lacked both the time and the funds, and had few people he ever liked well enough to lock hands with.

Evidently he has the same line of thought, and it makes him a bit gruff as he says, “why would I want to?”

“Because I want to,” you say. “With you, anyway.” He scoffs, but an oh-so faint blush dusts his unscarred cheek. He’s putting on a brave face for this conversation, but you see the turmoil of yesterday’s events lingering just beneath his waning patience. He’s tired, raw, disappointed in himself. And probably thinks you should be too. His attention keeps drifting further away, so carefully, very carefully, you step forward and touch one of his calloused hands. “Just for a little bit? I promise it’s easy.”

Norton meets your eyes again…and lets out a sigh that seems he’s been holding for years. His other hand comes up to your waist, holding you carefully.

“Alright, yeah. Just for a little bit.”

⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒

Luca Balsa

At three in the morning, Luca had just managed to stumble his way through the manor and crawl his way into your bed.

His pained groans had woken you up from halfway down the hall, so you managed to open the door before he slammed right into it. He then hit your pillow like a rock, holding his head and sobbing that it was splitting open. Five hours of sleepless agony passed like a slug, filled with a long game of medical roulette where nothing ever helped twice. After the fifth hour, Luca finally passed out.

When he awoke again in the evening, his discomfort was gone. But, and perhaps more importantly, he looked lost.

“How are you feeling, Luca?” You ask. He jumps a bit at hearing his own name and stops scanning your bedroom in favor of curiously meeting your eyes.

“Oh! ��Well, I think? Though, ah, I’m afraid I don’t quite know where I am,” he explains. Luckily, you’re practiced in hiding the hurt those words always induce. This is not your first experience with either his migraines or his amnesia, and it would surely not be your last.

“That’s alright,” you say. From the drawer in your desk, you produce a little notebook and pass it to him. Ever curious, he wastes no time in cracking it open. “You’re in my room. You had a really bad episode last night and came here instead of the infirmary. You had an accident several years ago that affected your memory. I’ve written about a lot of it in that notebook for you. Or, you keep some of your own that I can take you to. If you prefer.” He had never preferred that, though, always the trusting sort.

He spends several silent minutes flipping through the pages of the notebook, not bothering to hide his shifting expressions of shock, frustration, and intrigue. There’s a great deal of information in those pages, including the accident—or what you’ve heard of it anyway, the manor, his work, experiments you witness, and all the little ideas you hear him muttering to himself that he might forget otherwise.

“You keep this for me?” He finally asks, astonishment in his tone. “These seem impressively thorough.”

“I do, to make things a little easier for you,” you explain.

A grin splits his face and he turns to the notebook again. There’s no possible way he’s managing to take it all in with the speed he flies through it, but then he stops with purpose, marking a line with his finger and holding it with uncharacteristic force. The familiar determination in his eye is his attempt to bring a memory back through sheer willpower. And this time, it seems to work.

“Y…y—” he stutters. “Y/N! That’s it, you’re Y/N.” His shoulders relax as some great weight slides off them. Before you can react, he leaps to his feet and plants a kiss on your cheek that comes with a spark of static that feels like magic. “I love you too!”

“O-oh,” you squeak, still inches from his face and shocked at the speed he’s recovered. “Do you?”

“I do! Look, I wrote it here myself.” He points down to the page in the notebook. There, in your handwriting, is a reminder for him: ‘I love you, and will do anything to see your safe and happy.’ And in the small margins next to it, in his own quick scrawl, is ‘I love you too, never forget!’ You can’t begin to guess when he had added that note, but the glitter of mischief in his eye seems to indicate he knows with great fondness. “And it’s obvious to see why I would. It’s a remarkable gesture for you to keep this for me.”

Luca stands then, stretches, and tucks the notebook under his arm before offering you his gentlemanly hand, “Now! Let’s get some food, yeah? I’m starved. Oh! And let’s grab those other notebooks on the way, I have some catching up to do.”

“Alright,” you say. You feel lighter than you have in a while, reminiscing on how easily he accepts you back into his heart. With luck, he’ll remember everything else in a day or two. If he doesn’t, though, you’re at least not back to square one. “But in case you don’t remember, you don’t like sugar in your tea.”

Luca laughs boisterously, lays another electrifying kiss on your knuckles, and follows your lead out of the room.

[lupinsweater]

Once Bitten and Twice Shy

part two →

i’m so sorry this one is late! there was an issue with the scheduled posts, and i didn’t realize until i got on tumblr tonight to check my page :/ the issue is resolved, and tomorrow’s should be out in about 11 hours!🤎🫶🏽

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader 🎁 1.1k words

⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ ꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The bell above the record shop door chimed softly as you stepped inside, a blast of warm hitting your face and soothing you from the bitter cold outside. It was your favorite place to escape during the chaos of the holiday season, a sanctuary where the soft crackle of playing records replaced the endless loops of carols in every store downtown.

The shop was just as you remembered it: rows of neatly organized vinyl, the warm scent of aged wood and dust in the air, and the soft murmur of music playing over the speakers. Bing Crosby crooned in the background, his smooth baritone mixing with the faint chatter of other customers.

You tugged your scarf loose and rubbed your gloved hands together. Your eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something festive but not too upbeat. Blue Christmas by Elvis, maybe. Something that fit the quiet melancholy of your mood. A year ago, you would have been here with Sirius, teasing him about his lack of holiday spirit. He’d rolled his eyes at every carol but still let you drag him to the checkout with A Charlie Brown Christmas and a Frank Sinatra record.

A year. Had it really been that long?

Even just thinking of his name sent your heart into a downward spiral, your grip on the record tightening. You hadn’t seen him in a year, not since your whirlwind holiday romance ended in the kind of heartbreak that took months to patch over.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and made your way to the back of the shop, where the holiday section sat waiting. You let yourself wander through the aisles for a moment, your finger skimming over the records as you looked for the album you were after.

That’s when you saw him.

He was the last person you wanted to see right now, especially here, in the one place that had always felt like yours. You froze, the sleeve of the record you’d picked up still clutched between your fingers. He was a few rows over, just close enough for you to see the way his dark hair spilled over the collar of his leather jacket and the familiar sharpness of his profile. Your stomach dropped, a cold knot of panic blooming in your chest. Sirius Black hadn’t changed—not that you’d expected him to.

Gripping the strap of your bag, you pivoted on your heel, determined to leave before he noticed you.

But Sirius always noticed.

He called out your name from down the aisle. His voice was softer than you remembered, but it hit you just as hard. You froze, your back to him, and cursed yourself for not walking faster.

“Hey” he said again, closer now. “Is that you?”

There was no avoiding it. You turned slowly, lifting your chin even as your stomach churned. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real. Then his lips curved into a small, hesitant smile.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, taking a step closer. “What are the odds?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms in front of you as if you were trying to shield yourself from him. “Small world, I guess.”

“Small world,” he repeated, his smile faltering. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly looking almost unsure of himself. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine,” you said quickly, too quickly. “You?”

“Same,” he said, though his voice wavered. “It’s good to see you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and awkward. His gaze dropped to the floor, then back to you, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands or his words. You didn’t know what to say, either.

He finally broke the silence after a moment, tilting his head down towards the vinyl in your hand. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Still on your Christmas music kick?”

It wasn’t a question. He remembered.

“Yeah,” you said, your lips twitching into an unwilling smile. “And you’re still too cool for them, I bet.”

“Hey,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense, “I’ve softened a little. I mean, I was almost tempted to grab that Elvis Christmas album earlier. Almost.”

The corner of your mouth twitched again, but you bit down on the smile threatening to form. Sirius always had a way of getting under your skin, of making you laugh even when you didn’t want to.

“Progress,” you said lightly.

“Maybe next year, I’ll even own some Mariah Carey,” he teased, his grin widening.

That did it. The laugh escaped before you could stop it, soft and breathy and entirely too familiar. For a moment, it felt like the past year hadn’t happened, like you were still the two of you, sharing jokes and stolen moments in the snow.

But then reality hit, and the walls you’d built around yourself slammed back into place.

This was Sirius. The same Sirius who had swept you off your feet and then disappeared when things got too hard, leaving you to pick up the pieces alone. You couldn’t do this again.

“I should go,” you said abruptly, taking a step back.

His brows knit together, concern flickering across his face. “Wait—I just thought—”

“I can’t,” you said, your voice firmer this time. “It’s… It was good seeing you, Sirius. But I have to go.”

You grabbed the closest album without looking and made your way to the counter, your heart pounding with every step. You couldn’t look back, couldn’t let yourself risk getting pulled back into his orbit.

The cashier smiled as he rang up your purchase, the record sleeve crinkling slightly in your grip. The shop speakers shifted to a new song, one that made your stomach twist the moment you heard the opening notes.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

Of course.

Behind you, Sirius didn’t move. You could feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching, but you didn’t dare look back.

You pushed the door open and stepped into the cold, your breath visible in the icy air. The snow had started falling again, light flakes drifting against your cheeks as you pulled your scarf tighter.

You tightened your scarf and started walking, the song fading as you put more distance between yourself and the shop.

Sirius Black had been a dream—bright, fleeting, and impossible to hold on to. And now he was a memory, one you weren’t sure you could face again.

As Last Christmas played faintly behind you, you promised yourself one thing: no matter how familiar his smile, no matter how much you still missed him, you wouldn’t let him unravel you again.

Not this time. Not this Christmas.