#this is poetry - pure and simple | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

claramelooo · 3 months ago

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Hey, guys!

If you're reading this, congratulations! We've reached the end of this saga! I'm so happy I had the courage to start this project, and it's all thanks to the support of you guys who interacted with me so well that I felt comfortable writing with all my heart.

I still thinking in eventually to write one-shots for them, but I dunno, you tell me!! Lol

and I will definitely write more about the milfs we love, no worries!

Enjoy it!!

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Happy Ending!!!

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem Reader

Summary: Wanda's courage makes her knock on your door after five years

VELVET CHAINS

Love

After five years, everything had changed. You had graduated in International Relations and were working in a mid-level position at the American embassy, handling negotiations, mediating conversations between diplomats, and diving into a routine that made you feel important. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined when you first dreamed of your career, but you were on the right path.

Living in a quiet Manhattan neighborhood, your apartment reflected who you were: an organized person with a touch of calculated chaos. Stacks of books sat on the coffee table, an unfinished painting leaned against the wall, and Sparky, your Golden Retriever, bounded back and forth with endless energy.

Sparky had come into your life at a strange time, a gift from Yelena. "You need some decent company," she said, placing the puppy in your hands. "Because clearly, you can’t pick good company on your own." It was her way of showing she cared, and you knew that.

Yelena was one of the few ties you kept to your past. Despite your differences, you often met up, usually for quick lunches at tucked-away cafés in the city. She would talk about her work, about Natasha, and occasionally drop hints that you should go out more.

"You're young, smart, and beautiful," she’d say, almost like a mantra. "And you live like a nun."

What Yelena didn’t understand—or pretended not to—was that you didn’t just want to go out more. You wanted something that felt impossible to find: connection.

Even when you went out with your blonde fling (if you could even call her that), everything felt hollow. She was funny, gorgeous, and always willing to meet up, but she knew nothing about who you really were. She didn’t know about Sparky, your sleepless nights reading poetry, and definitely didn’t know about Wanda.

Ah, Wanda.

There were moments when thoughts of her crept in. Not intentionally, of course, but reflexively. Like when Sparky did something adorable, reminding you of how much Wanda loved dogs. Or when a particular song came on, one she used to hum while cooking.

But you’d learned to shove those memories into the back of your mind. There was too much to deal with in the present.

That day, for example, a stack of reports awaited your review, and you had a meeting at three. But first, you needed to take Sparky for a quick walk. Grabbing his leash, you left the apartment, greeting a few neighbors along the way.

"Good morning, Y/n!" called a cheerful older woman from the second floor.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harris!" you replied, your smile automatic but genuine.

Mornings were like that: simple, ordinary. A far cry from the life you once lived.

By the end of the day, Sparky lay curled up on the rug while you pored over a complicated email. The weight of routine settled over you. Everything seemed in place, yet something still felt out of tune.

You paused, staring out at the city through the window. The lights shimmered on the horizon, a promise of vibrant life out there.

But inside you, there was only silence.

After five years, everything had changed—except you.

Outwardly, you were the perfect image of an adult woman: successful, independent, living the life anyone would envy. But inside, the marks Wanda had left on you lingered like invisible scars, impossible to ignore.

You still felt like a little girl, torn between the desire to be cared for and the need for discipline. No matter how much you tried to bury it, there was a void in your routine that no job, company, or casual relationship could fill.

Wanda had shaped you. She taught you to surrender, to trust, to lose control in a safe way—and somehow, that had defined you. The nights with her still visited your dreams, a mix of longing and anguish. Her voice, firm yet full of care, still echoed in your mind when you felt overwhelmed.

"Good girl."

It was a simple phrase, but loaded with meanings no one else seemed to understand. It wasn’t just the compliment itself; it was what came with it: warmth, security, the feeling of being seen entirely.

A shiver ran down your spine at the memory. Sometimes, you hated it—hated how her memories still held power over you. But the truth was that part of you yearned for it again: a firm touch, a gaze that stripped away all your layers of protection, a kiss that said, "You’re mine."

You’d tried to recreate it with other people, of course. Foolishly, you thought you might find something similar with your blonde fling. But the woman lacked patience, or the understanding to handle your needs. She enjoyed herself, sure, but she had no idea that, for you, it went far beyond casual sex.

There were times when she rolled her eyes as you hesitated or became too submissive. It made you withdraw, reminding you that without Wanda, no one else seemed willing or capable of understanding.

"You’re complicated," the blonde had once said after you hesitated to take any initiative.

The woman straddling you moved rhythmically, trying to coax a reaction that just wouldn’t come. It wasn’t her fault; she was doing everything right. The problem was you. It was always you. Or rather, the emptiness left by the one who should never have gone.

Your vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling, your hands resting lazily on her hips, entirely unenthusiastic. Everything felt wrong, each touch a cruel reminder of what you truly wanted.

And it was only one person.

Not even five damn years had been enough to erase her name from your mind. It was etched somewhere between your ribs, buried deep but never far enough to ignore.

Wanda.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the thought away, but it was useless. All you could do was remember the feel of her mouth on yours, the sound of her raspy voice calling your name, the devastating look that made you feel like the only person in the world.

Now, she was on the other side of the country. Probably lying in bed next to her perfect husband. You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Vision was everything any woman could want: stable, respectable, and, of course, approved by everyone that mattered. But he was never you.

You let out a deep, heavy sigh, so profound the blonde paused, propping herself up on her elbows to look at you with a mix of confusion and irritation.

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

You shifted your gaze to the blonde straddling you... Jenna? Jemma? You couldn’t even remember her name. All you knew was that she worked in a different department.

Gripping the blonde’s hair, you yanked her head closer. "That’s not how you ask for what you want. But since you’re a dumb little slut, I’ll do all the work."

The woman, who had been about to protest your dirty language, fell silent as you buried three fingers inside her. You grabbed her waist and pulled her down until your fingers disappeared completely.

Her nails were already digging into your shoulders with the simple movement. You smiled to yourself before you began to destroy the poor woman's pussy. You thrust with maximum speed and force, making her scream in pleasure.

You curled your fingertips, hitting the woman's spongy, pulsing spot—bringing tremors in her legs, indicating the strong signs of an orgasm. When the woman came loudly, you pulled out of her.

At least she started to get dressed quickly afterward, "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

You gave her a weak smile. "Maybe."

You grabbed your phone, ordering an Uber for the blonde, the feeling of having brought her here haunting your mind like a mistake weighing on your heart.

As you waited for the blonde's Uber, guilt began to mix with boredom. It wasn't just her; it was the whole situation. The repetition of the same pattern: empty encounters, forgettable faces, names you didn't even bother to remember. You grabbed a robe to dress yourself and cover your nakedness—you threw yourself on the living room couch, while Sparky, your faithful companion, jumped beside you, offering an affection that seemed to be the only true constant in your life.

The apartment was a clear representation of who you had become over the past five years. Modern, well-decorated, yet with an air of transience, as though you had never truly committed to the space. A reflection of your own soul, perhaps.

And now, there was the job offer abroad. Paris. A dream for anyone in your field. The first thought you had when you received the news was excitement. Yet, there was something inside you that hesitated. It wasn’t just attachment to what you had built in Manhattan. It was what you still couldn’t let go of, even after all this time.

Wanda.

Her name still carried a different weight. A name that brought a flood of memories: her laughter, the way she looked at you, the way the world seemed to dissolve when you were together. You didn’t know how she was now. You knew she was in Texas. But beyond that?

Was she still with Vision? Did the boys remember you? Had she completely forgotten about you?

The emptiness returned, but this time with a twinge of curiosity. What was Wanda doing now? Was she sleeping beside Vision? Was she thinking about you?

The sound of a notification on your phone pulled you from your thoughts. The Uber had arrived. You got up, escorting the woman outside, ensuring she was safe—you’d never let anyone leave without making sure of that. The blonde waved at you from the car window, and you responded with an automatic gesture before walking toward your balcony.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar, yet more mature voice.

“You should put some clothes on if you’re planning to stay out here all night.”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. A strong wave of denial surged within you. Turning toward the voice took all the strength you had to stop yourself from retreating indoors.

The world seemed to tilt when you turned, and there she was. Wanda Maximoff. Five years. Five damn years since the last time you’d seen her, but nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

She stood at the base of your balcony, arms crossed over her chest, covered by a wool cardigan. Her hair was longer than you remembered, with strands that caught the faint streetlight, giving her an almost ethereal glow. But that wasn’t what captured your attention. It wasn’t her undeniable beauty. It was the restrained fury in her eyes, a deep, uncontrollable fire that pierced you like blades.

“Wanda…” you whispered, her name barely escaping your throat as your heart raced wildly.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression stern as she tilted her head slightly. “I asked if you’re staying out here all night or if you’re finally going to get dressed.”

You looked down at yourself, realizing you were still in just your robe, nothing else. But it wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that she was there. After five years. After all the time and distance, she was standing on your balcony, looking at you as though she could dismantle your entire life with a single glance.

“I…” You tried to speak, but your voice failed. Your chest tightened, a storm of emotions you couldn’t name swirling inside you. Fear. Guilt. Longing. Anger. Love. All spinning within you like a tornado. “It’s been a while.” You finally settled on that response.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at you. “Yes, and you’ve kept yourself very busy since the last time I saw you.”

Her sarcasm hit you like a slap. Her anger, once contained, began to spill over. How dare she? Five years of silence. Five years of emptiness, and now she was here, judging you?

“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, your voice harsher than you intended.

“It used to be,” Wanda replied with the same intensity. She took a step closer, her eyes burning as her voice dropped to something rougher, more intimate. “You used to be so good to Mommy.”

Her words cut like a knife. The heat you’d felt turned to a chill. You stepped back, raising your hands as if to keep a safe distance from her, from everything she represented.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you said, your voice cold and controlled, trying to salvage the last shred of dignity you had. You turned to head inside, but before you could take more than two steps, you felt a tug on your wrist.

Her touch, even after everything, was familiar. Too familiar. Your eyes met hers again, and something in Wanda’s expression had shifted. There was anger, yes, but also... something else. Something that looked like desperation.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice now almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken conversations. “We need to talk.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost mocking. “Five years, Wanda. Five years of silence. And now you show up at my door, after everything... to talk?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching for the right words. When she opened them again, tears were beginning to pool.

The tension in the air was almost suffocating. Your heart was still racing as you stepped back, swallowing hard and looking away from Wanda. It was too much—seeing her there, the weight of her presence after all this time. You tried to escape the emotional storm, turning toward your hallway, your hands trembling as you gripped the door to close it.

But before the wood could meet the frame, her foot stopped it.

The shock of her audacity quickly morphed into anger. You spun on your heels, ready to confront her, but before you could say a word, Wanda had already crossed the threshold of your home. Without permission.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” your voice came out firm, though the lump in your throat remained. You stepped forward, crossing your arms, trying to project an authority you didn’t feel.

Wanda didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She shut the door behind her with a calm that was unsettling, her green eyes scanning the room before landing back on you. “I’m not standing out in the cold while you play house with every random whore who crosses your path. But when I need you—when Mommy needs you—you refuse to listen,” she said, her tone almost casual, but with an edge of something dangerous, like a sharp knife wrapped in velvet.

The word you hadn’t heard, hadn’t uttered in years, sent shivers down your spine. Hearing it from Wanda’s mouth reignited a fire in your lower belly—one you tried to ignore.

“Listen?” You laughed, but it was dry and full of disbelief. “You barge into my house after five years and think I owe you anything? Wanda?”

Wanda stepped closer, and you realized you were cornered between her and the wall. Despite the anger burning inside you, something else was growing—something that made your knees weak and the air hard to breathe.

“Five years,” she repeated, her voice heavy with meaning. “Five years without a single word. And now, when I finally see you, you think you can dismiss me with a ‘goodnight, Wanda’? No. We’re going to talk, Y/n.”

“Talk?” you repeated, almost derisively.

The tension in the room was almost electric as you held Wanda’s gaze. No matter how hard you tried to maintain your firm posture, your crossed arms, and your cold voice, something inside you was crumbling. She was so close now, and that familiar scent—a mix of something floral and woody—invaded your senses, dragging up memories you had spent five long years trying to bury.

“Yes, talk,” Wanda replied, her tone lower now, but with an intensity that rooted you in place. “And you’re going to listen, Y/n. Because I didn’t cross half the country to be ignored.”

You let out a bitter laugh, anger and confusion boiling inside you. “You don’t have the right to show up here and demand anything from me, Wanda. Nothing! You made your choice, remember? You chose your family. You chose Vision. So why are you here now? For what?”

Her eyes shimmered with a mix of pain and determination.

"Vision found out." Two words—only two words were enough for you to completely let your guard down with her.

You felt your arms drop to your sides, your posture crumbling. All the control you had desperately tried to maintain was ripped away. Wanda observed the change in you, her eyes watchful but devoid of any satisfaction. It seemed like she was crumbling inside too.

"Found out what, exactly?" you asked, but your voice came out softer than you intended. It was a loaded question, filled with everything you had tried to ignore for years.

"About us," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "About everything."

You let yourself fall back against the wall, trying to find stability as your head spun. "And then? What do you want from me now, Wanda? I can't be your safe place when everything falls apart. Not anymore."

The woman ignored your questions and continued her monologue, her eyes glistening with tears. “He threatened me. Threatened to expose this to the church, threatened to take the boys from me.” Wanda's voice was a fragile thread.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry. Everything about her—the teary eyes, the voice heavy with pain, the proximity—was pulling you back into a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t want to face.

“I thought about killing him.” The confession made your heart stop for a second. You felt the weight of those words hit you like a punch. Wanda, your Wanda, talking about murdering her husband with an almost practical coldness.

She took another step, her palm now resting against your cheek, a touch so delicate it completely contrasted with the violence of her words.

“It would be simple to poison him, and I’d be free—I’d have my boys, my reputation intact, I’d have you.”

The closeness was suffocating. The intensity in her eyes, the tears slowly rolling down Wanda's face, mingling with your own tear-filled gaze, trapped you in a way you couldn’t escape.

“But then… Billy got sick, and I saw no other way out, Y/n. There was no other way to push you out of my life except for that…” Her voice trembled, an echo of a desperation so raw and real it made your chest tighten even more.

Your heart was torn between believing her and protecting yourself. Her words seemed genuine, but you knew Wanda had always had the power to manipulate your feelings. She always knew exactly how to reach the most vulnerable corners of your soul.

“Wanda, I...” You tried to find words but were lost. Lost in the whirlwind of emotions she provoked in you—anger, sadness, love, and a terrible longing for everything you used to be together.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, her fingers now softly tracing the line of your jaw. "I just wanted to protect you. Protect the boys. Protect... us."

"Protect?" Your voice finally found strength. "Wanda, you destroyed everything. Not just your life but mine too. I spent five years trying to piece together what you left behind. And now you come back, expecting me to believe it was all to protect us?"

Wanda stepped back slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on yours, pleading for something you didn’t know if you could give. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, Y/n. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I needed you to know. I needed you to understand what really happened."

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. Her words still echoed in your mind. Vision. Threats. The boys. She had thought about killing for you. For them.

And despite everything, a part of you wanted to believe her. Wanted to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to when her touch was the only thing that made sense in the world. But the past was there, as present as she was, and you didn’t know how to escape its shadow.

“Who was she?” Wanda's hoarse voice cut through the silence like a blade—low, but laden with an intensity that sent a shiver up your spine.

You blinked, confused, trying to understand the question. "Who...?"

"The blonde? Who was she?" Wanda interrupted, her eyes burning into yours, her tone a little firmer, almost possessive.

You hesitated, discomfort growing. "I... I don’t know what that matters now, Wanda."

"It matters," she shot back, stepping forward. "Because she left your house wearing the same cheap perfume I smelled on you when I arrived. So I’ll ask again: who was she?"

The sudden clarity in Wanda's words hit you like a shock. It wasn’t just curiosity or simple jealousy; there was something deeper in the way she was looking at you, as if she desperately needed this answer.

“She’s just...” You averted your gaze, trying to find an explanation that didn’t sound as frivolous as the truth. "She’s nobody. Someone from work. She means nothing."

“Means nothing,” Wanda repeated, almost to herself, but with a touch of sarcasm that hurt more than you wanted to admit. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. When she opened them again, her green eyes were intense, locked on yours. "You think I believe that? Since when would you let just anyone touch you? She isn’t ‘nothing.’"

"You have no right to come here and ask me these kinds of questions, Wanda. Not after everything," you snapped back, your own anger finally starting to bubble.

She began, her voice deep but trembling, “Just the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, seeing you the way I did…” She paused, her fists clenched at her sides. “It feels like the ground is disappearing beneath me.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. Her intensity was overwhelming. "Wanda..."

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice broke, and for a moment, she seemed so vulnerable that you didn’t know whether to stay or run. “I tried to move on. I tried to accept that I’d never have you again. But every day, every night that passed, I felt you with me. Here.” She pressed her hand to her chest, over her heart.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to deal with the storm forming in front of you.

“I see myself in every woman who tries to touch you," she continued, her voice lowering but still loaded with dangerous intensity. “And it’s unbearable. Because no matter who they are, I know none of them will ever be good enough for you. Because none of them are me.”

Her words hit like a blow, mixing anger, sadness, and a pang of something you didn’t want to name. Love. Maybe obsession.

You whimpered, “That’s not fair! You chose him over me! You can’t just come here and say whatever you want.”

“I had to, Y/n! For the sake of my kids, for Billy’s health!” She snapped, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “And what does that mean now, huh? What does it change in the present?”

She stood up from the couch, straightening her posture—and her pride. “It means I’m divorcing him.” She began walking toward you in slow steps. “It means I took the first flight and traveled 27 hours—even though I’m terrified of planes—just to see you.” Wanda smiled, emotional. More steps, closer to you. “It means, Y/n, that no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t forget you.”

You wanted to step back, but your body wouldn’t obey. You couldn’t control yourself and cursed inwardly at the thought that your body still belonged to her, and the promise Wanda made you before still lingered.

“You know what, Y/n?” Wanda said, staring at you intently.

You couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to, your voice stuck in your throat.

“All I’ve been able to think about for the last few fucking months is your beautiful face between my legs.” Her face was close to yours, her breath fresh and hauntingly familiar, tickling your skin. “Tell me, so many women coming and going from this place… but has any of them made you come like I did?”

The truth was that you hadn’t had an orgasm since your last time with Wanda. Every woman who had passed through your life didn’t understand how much you wanted to be broken during sex and then be held, pampered, loved…

“Oh, poor thing… Haven’t you cum since the last time Mommy made you?”

Usually, you hated it when people got in your head, but you were getting close to the limits of your intelligence. The only woman who could make you was right in front of you trying to do just that.

“It seems like you need Mommy as much as she needs you.” Wanda slowly knelt down, opening the robe you were wearing a little. She moaned when she saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.

“Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.” The woman’s mouth was watering as she remembered the taste of you on her tongue.

Your breathing quickened when one of Wanda’s fingers dragged through your folds. Quickly, you took a step back and closed the robe again.

“I can’t do this. You're going to fuck me and then leave me!” You shouted, stomping your feet like the little girl Wanda knew well and missed terribly.

“Y/n, I'm getting a divorce, seriously!” She uses that soothing tone, the tone she used to calm you down when you cried in her arms after a punishment.

Before you can deny her once more, Wanda crushes her lips to yours—and that was the end of the conversation. Your hands locked themselves in the older woman's blond locks, bringing her even closer to you.

“I hate you so much!” You growled, biting Wanda's lower lip, making her moan. “You owe me the best orgasm of my life.”

You rip the woman's blouse, wrapping Wanda's nipple between your teeth—mutilating them, making Wanda moan.

“Has he touched you since I left? Do you moan like that for him? Does your body react to his touch?” As much as you tried. Tried to forget her and put out the fire of your obsession for her, here you were, with your mouth mistreating every inch of her skin.

“No.” Wanda replied breathlessly, her hands tangling in your hair. “Only you.” The woman’s intense gaze as she said this made you shiver.

Wanda pulled your head away from her. Your neck was stretched back as she stared hungrily at your body, “Mommy understands that you’re mad at her, baby, but don’t forget who’s in charge. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”

You immediately flinched at the brightness of her black eyes of pure excitement, “Yes, Mommy.”

Her lips pressed against yours in a small peck, “Good girl, now take me upstairs.”

There was a hesitant tremor in your body as you picked up the older woman and carried her to your bedroom. You sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her, waiting for the next move. You were writhing around, your pussy was so wet.

"Did you enjoy fucking that blonde slut on this bed? This bed should only be used for pleasure if mommy allows it."

You shook your head, "No, mommy…"

"What about the other sluts you were fucking? Hmm, you had so many, didn't you? All blondes… I wonder why that was."

Your focus was divided between her questions and the hand she was using to tease you. Her hand found a path you desperately wanted to follow. From your chest to your pussy.

"No mommy, they couldn't satisfy me."

Wanda finally took a long step towards you, placing her hand on your chest. "And why is that, baby?"

Your breath hitched as she touched the band of your robe, threatening to take it off. Her delicate finger crept into your folds.

"Because only mommy can make me cum." She pinched your clit, making you whimper,

"Say it again."

"Only mommy can make me cum," Your voice rose an octave as Wanda thrust a finger into you.

There was a slightly sadistic look on her face at the sound of your cries. She bent down to her knees, pulling off your robe, leaving you completely naked to her. Her finger continued to attack your pussy.

"You're so tight, Detka, has no one put a finger inside you since mommy? Have you kept that pussy all pristine for me?" You were struggling to stand at this point.

The way she was talking to you along with her finger fucking was enough to make you fall apart. Wanda smacked your thigh firmly, making you jump in surprise,

"Mommy asked you a question." Your frantic eyes met hers,

"No, mommy, no one has touched me since you."

"Not even your pretty little finger has been in that pussy?" You shake your head,

"No, Mommy."

She takes this as a sign to shove 2 more fingers inside you, "Open that pussy for Mommy. When I'm done, that hole will be just right for Mommy."

You moaned at the way your pussy stretched for Wanda. You could feel the juices dripping out of you as Wanda worked her magic on you. You almost screamed when you felt a slap against your clittoris.

Although you couldn’t see her, you were sure the woman was smiling at your reaction. She continued to pound your clit hard to the point that your knees felt like they would give out at any moment.

“It’s like it’s the first time all over again. You can’t handle a simple caress and a slap on your pussy without your legs giving out. We’re going to have to retrain you after this,” the woman pushed you hard onto the bed.

Your hands were gripping the edge of the mattress as your legs dangled over the edge. Wanda settled herself between your knees.

Her hot breath teasing your pussy. She gave one last smack before closing her lips around your clit.

“Fuck, mommy!” Wanda giggled into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body.

Wanda used one hand to hold you down as she fingered and tongue fucked you. Your back was almost arched off the bed.

“Mmm, so sweet.” She murmured into your pussy. “Mommy missed that smell so much, that sticky little pussy of yours wetting my mouth.” Wanda ground her own pussy into the edge of the mattress, the friction sending tremors through her legs.

You wanted to close your legs because there was something building in the pit of your stomach.

You staggered up from your sitting position when Wanda removed all contact. It was like your eyes were going to pop out of your head.

There was a mischievous smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“What’s wrong, Detka?”

Your body was shaking, yearning for your long-awaited release.

“Mommy, please.”

Wanda smiled even wider as she crawled on top of you, lining her pussy up with your fluid cunt. She was directly above you, her eyes looking playfully into yours,

“Please, what, huh? We’ve barely started, baby girl, you don’t want to cum now, do you?”

Wanda began to grind against you, making you both moan at the contact of your pussies together. The ease with which your clits met only showed that your bodies had met before—maybe in another life.

"I need to cum, Mommy. Please let me cum. Fuck, it's been too long…. I need my Mommy to make me cum, only Mommy can make me cum, please," you were desperate.

If you even tried to touch yourself without her permission right now, she would deny you. The best thing you could do was beg like the hungry slut you truly were.

She increased the friction against your pussy and a small cry escaped your lips. You demanded more, and Wanda knew it.

"Look at me," Wanda gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

She brushed your messy hair away from your face and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, "I've missed you so much, Y/N. I'm going to make you cum so hard. Do you know why?"

You shook your head, unable to speak. Tender moments during sex didn’t happen often between the two of you. So this was definitely new, and it was making your heart flutter.

She placed her forehead against yours, “Because I love you.” She moaned passionately, as if those words had been stuck in her throat for a long time. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed my perfect little slut? My little sneaky baby, huh?” Wanda continued to grind her hips against you, feeling her orgasm coming on herself.

“All I want to do is take care of you. I want to make you feel good because it makes me feel good.” She began to thrust harder against you.

You grab her face with both hands, crushing your lips against hers feverishly. She slumps against your body, so she’s no longer holding back.

You moan directly into her mouth as she begins to move more sporadically against you.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” the command was whispered in your ear, and that was all it took for you to cum.

Both of your bodies shook, and your arms flew around Wanda, pinning her in place. It felt like your entire body was spasming under the immense amount of pleasure.

Wanda placed soft kisses on the side of your neck as you began to regain your composure, “You’re my good girl. Cumming as soon as Mommy says you can.” You look so beautiful when you're under me like this, darling.

Wanda sighed, her fingers tracing small circles on your back, each gentle touch laden with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. Her breathing seemed calm, but you could feel the rapid pulse in her chest, as if her heart was struggling to break free from the walls her mind insisted on building. There was a raw vulnerability in the silence between you, a space where unspoken emotions seemed to take form.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you murmured, your voice thick as you buried your face in her shoulder. Every word felt like a battle against the tight knot in your throat, threatening to unravel into tears at any moment.

“I did too,” Wanda replied, her voice heavy with a weight only she could understand. Her lips brushed against the top of your head in a slow, almost hesitant kiss, as if she needed to confirm you were real. “And every day without you… felt like an eternity. A never-ending punishment.”

“I love you too, Wanda. That’s never changed.” The words came as a whisper but carried a devastating power. You didn’t need volume; the love pouring out of every syllable was enough to fill the void of the lost years.

Wanda froze for a moment, as if your confession had the power to split time in half. You hadn’t realized how tense she was until you felt her body relax against yours, a shaky breath escaping her lips. Slowly, she pulled away, rolling to her side until the two of you were face-to-face. Wanda’s face was an open book—hope, fear, and love colliding in a whirlwind of emotions.

“I have children,” she said finally, her voice low and raw, as if each word was a confession torn from her. Her gaze was piercing, searching yours as though bracing for judgment or hesitation.

“I know,” you said, your voice steady, a contrast to the delicate fragility of the moment. Your eyes held hers, offering the reassurance she seemed to desperately need.

“The divorce…” Wanda continued, her words almost a lament, “it might get messy. Ugly. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” You squeezed her fingers gently, as if to say no obstacle would be big enough to separate you again.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was as if both hearts were readjusting their rhythms to beat in unison once more after so long out of sync. You brought your free hand to her face, gently caressing her warm, delicate skin.

“I’m here by your side, Wanda, no matter what happens. As long as you’re honest with me, I’m yours.”

Wanda blinked, her eyes glistening with tears she didn’t try to hide. “All mine…” she echoed, her voice almost a whisper, as though she couldn’t believe the words. A single tear slid down her cheek, and you wiped it away with your thumb, a simple gesture heavy with unspoken promises.

“Yes,” you reaffirmed, your voice soft but resolute. “Always yours.”

Wanda closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, a determination shone in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “I’m going to fight for this. For us. I’ll never let you go again.”

And so, in that room where time seemed to have stopped, you found each other once more. After five years of pain and distance, nothing felt more certain than the promise you now shared.

[...]

The irresistible aroma of roasted turkey wafted through the house, mingling with the scent of pumpkin pies and spices that promised a memorable dinner. Through the window, the golden light of an autumn evening softly spilled onto the dining room walls, painting everything with a warm, cozy glow. Sparky, ever vigilant for any sign of food, lay at the foot of the table, watching everyone’s movements like a little guardian.

“Tommy, if you put one more olive on that plate, I swear you won’t get dessert!” Wanda scolded, her voice filled with exasperation, though her eyes betrayed an amused glint.

“Mom, olives are the best part of dinner!” Tommy retorted, stacking a fourth olive in the corner of his plate as if building a tower. Billy, seated next to him, leaned in with a teasing grin.

“Let him be, Mom. At least that way he’s eating something, considering he always skips the vegetables.”

“I don’t skip them! I… selectively eat them,” Tommy corrected, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda ran a hand over her face, clearly resisting the urge to say more. She looked like the epitome of an exhausted mother: wrinkled apron, hair tied back in a hurried bun, and a furrow between her brows that revealed her struggle to keep everything under control. Watching from the kitchen as you sliced bread, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Relax, love. They’re just excited. It’s part of the holiday,” you said gently, crossing the space between the kitchen and the table with a plate of salad. Wanda turned toward you, her shoulders subtly relaxing at the sound of your voice.

“They’re going to drive me insane, that’s what’s going to happen,” she grumbled, though her words were tinged with affection.

Leaning in, you kissed her cheek, ignoring the muffled teasing coming from the boys.

“It’s only until dinner. I promise, after that, they’ll be calm and polite as angels.”

“Doubt it!” Billy called out loudly from across the table, laughing as Wanda narrowed her eyes at him.

Finally, everyone sat at the table, the golden turkey shining at the center, surrounded by colorful dishes: gratin potatoes, sautéed vegetables, pies, and sauces that completed the feast. Sparky, realizing it was mealtime, lay down again with an exaggerated sigh.

“Okay, kids, let’s give thanks for today,” you suggested, taking Wanda’s hand, who in turn took Tommy’s. The chain was formed. Billy glanced sideways at his brother before offering a small smile.

“I’m thankful for this new house and for Mom’s cooking,” Tommy said first, surprising everyone with his sincerity. Wanda blinked, clearly moved, but held herself together.

Billy, ever practical, smirked and said, “I’m thankful Sparky didn’t eat my snack this week. And for that pumpkin pie over there.”

Everyone laughed, breaking the momentary seriousness. Wanda squeezed your hand gently before speaking.

“I’m thankful for the family I chose and for the peace we have here. None of this would be possible without you.” She looked directly at you, her green eyes full of a tenderness that seemed to envelop her entirely.

You smiled, feeling your heart warm. “And I’m thankful for all of you. For being together, healthy, and happy. That’s all that matters.”

That night, as the boys slept in the room next door and Sparky snored at the foot of the couch, you and Wanda found each other in the small space of your new home, cups of tea in hand. The soft lights of the room illuminated only your faces, creating an intimate and cozy bubble.

“Do you realize we’re here now? Together. Like a family,” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with a sweet incredulity. “I never imagined my life could be like this.”

“You deserve this, Wanda. You deserve love, you deserve peace.”

She smiled softly, her eyes glinting with some distant memory. “That trip to Paris… it was the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, fondly recalling the moment. Wanda thought you were taking her just to celebrate your vacation, but both of you had a secret plan. On the first night, under the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you took her to dinner, pulled a ring from your pocket, and knelt before her. Wanda’s smile and tears were enough to calm any nerves.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was that she also had a ring hidden in her bag.

“It’s funny how we proposed to each other at the same time,” you said, laughing softly.

“I knew we were meant to be; I just needed a ring to make it official,” Wanda joked, leaning into you.

The memories mingled with the present: family dinners, the twins’ laughter, Sparky’s innocent antics, and the love that overflowed in every touch and shared glance between you. Life went on, and that moment was just a snapshot of a story that would continue long after the readers’ eyes closed.

Destiny is a quiet and unpredictable force, weaving invisible threads between souls that, somehow, were meant to find each other. Sometimes, it acts as a whisper in the wind, a shared glance in a church that grows into a grand story, the kind so impactful they become unpublishable.

The best love stories are the ones eyes can’t read, the ones words aren’t enough to tell. They are the stories that are felt or dreamed.

Some loves are born as sparks: they shine brightly but end in the same breath that started them. Others, however, carry eternity in the eyes of those who live them. They are built over years, with patience, courage, and even silence. These loves withstand time, crossing generations, and when life ends, they find a way to continue. Perhaps in another era, perhaps in another skin, but never in another heart. Because there are loves that don’t belong to just one life. They belong to destiny, and destiny, however whimsical, always finds a way to perpetuate what was born to be eternal.

We are all like pieces of coins that children break in half as keepsakes—turning one into two, like flounders—and each of us is always searching for our corresponding half.

And so all this commotion is a relic of that original state of ours, from when we were whole, and now, when we long for and pursue that primordial wholeness, we say we are in love.

And that was it. You had found your other half. Wanda was your primordial wholeness, and you were hers. The world might change around you, but that—that silent and secure love between you—would remain, unbreakable as velvet chains.

~*~

Thankiuuu so much for you read Velvet Chains!!! YEYY

I hope the ending met your expectations!

I dunno if i'll write anything before Christimas, so... MERRY CHRISTMAS you gayyys!

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

#mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mommy k!nk #elizabeth olsen x reader #lgbtq #lgbtqia #mommy k1nk #wanda x you #wlw post #lesbian #lesbianism #bd/sm brat #bd/sm community #bd/sm kink

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urdreamydoodles · 5 months ago

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Hi! Can I request some Hank McCoy romantic fluff headcannons?

Hank McCoy Romantic Fluff Headcanons

How is Hank in a romantic relationship

In your romantic relationship with Hank McCoy, his intellect and gentle nature create a comforting and stimulating environment where you feel both cherished and inspired.

I can totally do that! I hope you like it <3

- Being with Hank means embracing every side of him—from his brilliance in the lab to his warm, endearing awkwardness. He has a tendency to overthink things, especially when it comes to you. At first, he was nervous about whether you’d be comfortable with his more “beastly” traits. But the way you look at him, with genuine love and acceptance, has gradually put him at ease, allowing him to fully be himself around you.

- Hank is a complete gentleman. He often insists on opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, or offering his hand as you walk together, even in mundane situations. His old-fashioned, chivalrous ways stem from his love of literature and classic cinema, and he finds joy in treating you with the same care as the romantic heroes he admires.

- Although he can be reserved, Hank is incredibly affectionate when you're alone together. His love language is physical touch, and he cherishes the simple intimacy of holding you close, his large, furry hands gently intertwined with yours. He often rests his head on top of yours, relishing the closeness and warmth that he so rarely allows himself to feel with anyone else.

- Hank loves to read with you. He has an extensive collection of novels, poetry, and scientific journals, and there’s nothing he finds more comforting than spending a quiet evening reading together. Often, he’ll choose a passage he finds particularly beautiful or thought-provoking and read it aloud to you, his deep voice adding a rich, soothing cadence to each word.

- He’s incredibly thoughtful and remembers every little detail about you, from your favorite tea to the songs that make you smile. If you casually mention something you like, it won’t be long before he surprises you with it, whether it’s a new book he thinks you’d enjoy or your favorite snack after a long day. Hank is always looking for ways to make you feel special and cherished.

- Despite his intimidating appearance, Hank has a soft, almost bashful side when it comes to romance. He’s meticulous about planning dates, often going over every detail to make sure everything is perfect. He’ll spend hours planning something as simple as a picnic, meticulously choosing the spot and packing all your favorite foods. His devotion shines through in all the small ways he tries to make every moment memorable for you.

- Hank has a deeply playful side, and he loves to surprise you with unexpected jokes or a quick spin around the room. You’d think his serious intellect would make him less inclined to have fun, but he absolutely loves to make you laugh. Sometimes, he’ll lift you up effortlessly, spinning you in his arms just to see your surprised smile. His laughter is a rich, warm sound, and it fills you with pure happiness whenever you hear it.

- When you’re working late on something or simply feeling stressed, Hank will surprise you with a comforting cup of tea or a gentle shoulder massage. His hands, large but tender, work away your tension with surprising finesse, and he’ll murmur soothing words as he does so, reminding you to take care of yourself. He finds joy in helping you relax, finding any excuse to take care of you.

- Hank has an endearing habit of talking to himself while he’s working in his lab. Sometimes, you’ll catch him muttering theories under his breath or reciting scientific facts to no one in particular. He always blushes when he realizes you’re watching, a bit embarrassed by his eccentricity, but you reassure him that it’s one of the many things you adore about him. Knowing you accept even his quirks only makes him love you more.

- He’s constantly creating small inventions just for you—little gadgets to make life easier or items he thinks will make you smile. One time, he crafted a unique bookmark for you with your initials engraved in it, so you’d never lose your place in a book. Another time, he made a tiny portable light that clips onto your book, so you could read anywhere without straining your eyes. Each invention is a token of his love, showing just how much he pays attention to your needs and comforts.

- Hank is deeply protective of you, though he tries not to show it too much. He respects your independence and strength, but if he senses any danger, his instincts kick in, and he’ll stand by your side without question. When he’s with you, he feels a sense of purpose and devotion, and he’d do anything to keep you safe. His loyalty to you runs deep, and you can always rely on him to be there when it matters most.

- Sometimes, he’ll absentmindedly play with your hair as you both relax together. His touch is gentle, and he finds it incredibly soothing to simply be close to you in these quiet moments. You’ll feel his fingers combing through your hair, a soft, comforting gesture that reminds you of just how tender and affectionate he is, despite his tough exterior.

- On evenings when you’re both especially content, Hank will hum softly, his voice low and gentle as he cradles you close. His singing is rare but beautiful, and you love the calm, intimate atmosphere he creates when he lets himself relax this way. It’s a rare glimpse into his private world, a peaceful moment he reserves just for you, reminding you of the depth and beauty of his love.

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 month ago

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In honor of the baby delivery question that was in honor of the menstrual pad question, how would AGSZC (+ the Turks and Rufus, ifyw) react if they were asked how babies are made?

Assuming a child asks?

Sephiroth: Pulls up a powerpoint presentation he claims to be kid friendly purely because he included a rainbow title with fun lettering. "When genetic material from two compatible donors combines through sexual intercourse *next slide is detailed medical diagrams* "The male reproductive organ releases sperm cells which propel through the vaginal canal at speeds of 0.2 to 0.3 meters per hour." *more infuriatingly anatomically correct diagrams* "Please, do not cry. This is a perfectly healthy and normal depiction of human birth. Look, the mother even appears happy. Perhaps she won't abandon her child."

Angeal: *sits down with a warm smile* "When two people love each other very much, they share a special kind of hug and decide to express that love in a physical way! Just like how a seed needs rich soil and tender care to grow into a beautiful flower, new life needs—*gasp*—"NO SEPHIROTH, PUT THOSE DIAGRAMS AWAY!"

Genesis: "Ah, like the goddess's tender embrace of morning dew upon spring flowers, two souls entwine in passion's dance, the sacred union of dawn and dusk, where heaven meets earth in passionate embrace. Shall I recite the poetry of the Kamasutra?" *Pulls out an actual book* *gets tackled by Angeal*

Reno: *takes a drag from his cigarette* "When two idiots forget to wrap it up, a screaming hell-spawn is born and they have to deal with it for 18 years."

Zack: "Okay buddy, let uncle Zack break it down for you nice and simple! So there's this thing that happens... like when you... uh... you know how when chocobos... and then they... but with people it's... and then... CLOUD HELP ME OUT HERE!"

Cloud: *turns bright red* "Well... um... so... there's this... thing? That happens? With... parts? And... uh....and then somehow the cells do something with other cells and....Oh! I know! My mom said something about the dragons bringing the babies down from the mountain caves, but only if you leave out a bowl of Nibel stew every full moon for nine months! And you can't forget to hang wolf fangs over your door or the mountain spirits might swap the baby with an evil entity which—" *Zack covers his mouth because the child is now crying*

Tseng: Is cheerful and sweet but makes no sense. "Much like how Shinra absorbs smaller companies, there's a delicate negotiation between two interested parties. When the proper paperwork—by which I mean copulation—is filed correctly, a new subsidiary—that is, a baby—begins development. Think of it as a very complex tea ceremony, where timing and precision are everything!"

Rufus: *stroking Darkstar while reading reports* "A specialized delivery service employs large storks to distribute infants to suitable households. The process is quite straightforward and requires no further elaboration."

*Tseng whispers urgently in his ear*

"...I'm being informed that sex is involved."

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #zack fair #cloud strife #tseng #reno ff7 #rufus shinra #crisis core headcanons #headcanons

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intermundia · 8 months ago

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so i've always found anakin's dialogue much more difficult to write correctly than obi-wan's. obi-wan is a wry and posh voice, simple in compared to anakin's mess of contradictions. pragmatic, blunt, and forthright, but also that somehow translates into saying things like i'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me, my heart is beating hoping the kiss will not become a scar in the most melodramatic way possible. he's self aware enough to say shit like you're asking me to be rational, that is something i know i cannot do, but also one of the most deluded characters in star wars. it's hard to accurately capture the way he says the truest possible thing at any given time (from his point of view), sometimes he's spouting poetry, sometimes joking and quipping about it, depending on if he's in the prequels or mid clone wars. as vader his vocabulary is menacing, lofty, sarcastic. it feels impossible to nail the exact balance between his brilliance and stupidity, his literal, technical brain with all its jokes and pure, deep, strong emotion. it's definitely part of what makes the character special, but it's also a hell of a needle to thread trying to write him right.

#anakin skywalker #how do you even talk you beautiful idiot #he's such a mess of a person #the difference between the prequels and TCW is so hard to resolve naturally #fanfic stuff #sw

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heyimkana · 14 days ago

Text

Desiderium - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist | AO3 Link

Pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu X Female Reader X Satoru Gojo

Genre: Reincarnation AU, Marriage AU, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn

Summary: Set in Tokyo, Japan, you and Yuuta were past lovers separated by the cruel hands of fate. That same fate brought you to him again a century later, but while you hold no memories of him or the beautiful life you had shared with him in the past, Yuuta remembers everything. He's waited forever to see you again, yearning for your love, not knowing that you already belong to someone else.

Word Count: 13K+

Content Warnings: None for this chapter.

Art drawn by @alwhmd_ on Twitter (commission)

They discover a little game. It’s all Yuuta’s idea.

“To expand our knowledge and interest,” he says before bashfully adding, “A-and so we can know each other better.”

One of those reasons convinces her to play along. It’s never about the books.

The rule is simple: he’ll choose short literature for her to read for the day—whether it’s in the form of poetry or novel, matters not, as well as its genre—and she’ll do the same for him. They’ll share their thoughts afterward, and whoever can make the other feel entertained with their recommendation will win the game. Yuuta chooses not to place any bets despite her constant suggestions to make the game more interesting, but he says he’ll allow her to ask him to do something—anything—she wants if she manages to impress him with her choice.

I can work with that, she thinks, and so they play. They do it once a week if the novels are too thick to be finished within a day or two. But if it’s a short story, they’ll repeat the game as soon as the last one ends.

She always wins, but only because he lets her. She knows that. And she feels terrible asking someone as pure and gullible as Yuuta to do something crazy, knowing that he will indeed do anything she asks of him and possibly dying in the process, figuratively speaking. Maybe even literally, seeing how his body nearly combusted into flames when she simply asked him to stop calling her by her surname.

“It’s been weeks since we first met, Yuuta. Isn’t it about time?” She had argued then. “Aren’t we close enough to be on a first-name basis now? It doesn’t feel fair that I’m the only one calling you this way.” She left him no room to escape.

He needed a few seconds to gather the courage, but he agreed. Her name flowed past his mouth, and it sounded exactly the same as the way he called her in the dream, so naturally as if he had been calling her that way for years, like a soulmate to another. She asked him to continue referring to her with her first name, saying they sounded more like friends that way. She did not mention a word about how warm and giddy he made her feel inside with every call of her name. He didn’t need to know; it was already dangerous as it was.

She’s stopped trying to win the game since then, deciding it would be funnier—and easier on her heart—if she played tricks on him instead.

So, today, she plays Yuuta’s innocent game with her wicked mind in charge, selecting a story that is too long to finish in three hours and too absurd for his mind to comprehend. “This book got me through some tough times,” she says, a complete lie. She hasn’t even read it, not once. She’d simply looked it up online a few minutes before, secretly grinning like a devil as she skimmed through endless terrible reviews from readers who were disgusted by the chaotic plot and even messier ending. The more bad reviews it got, the better, so she decided it was perfect for her to recommend. “Sharing this with you is like sharing my deepest secret, Yuuta, so please. Read it. It’s very important to me that you like it.”

Poor Yuuta nods with all his heart. He’s excited, super excited, probably thinking he’s on his way to a new adventure to understand her better, only to be frowning and glancing at her with concerned eyes for the rest of his reading session. By the time he’s finished with it, she asks him for his opinion.

He looks genuinely concerned for her. She’s having the time of her life.

Yuuta, on the other hand, is always so meticulous in choosing what to recommend. Whenever he finds something interesting, he does a quick research beforehand to make sure it’s universally loved instead of a simply biased opinion. He’ll be so nervous about it, too, adorably so. “I’ve read this before and, umm… The ending is pretty satisfying to me, and it got me wondering what could have been if—no, I shouldn’t spoil it, just, umm, just give it a try? Please? I think you’ll enjoy it.”

She takes the book away from his hand, scrutinizing the cover.

He winces, “The cover doesn’t say much. Please don’t judge it from—”

“Yuuta, will you relax?” She laughs. “I’ve read books before; I know the rules. I wasn’t judging it from the cover. I was just reading the author’s name.”

“Oh… Okay…”

“Yukio Mishima… Hmm… Why does his name sound familiar to me?” Her eyes skate through the first page, moving from one passage to another. “His writing style, too. Have you recommended his other works to me before? I swear I’ve read it somewhere. I can’t remember it.”

Yuuta’s jaw clenches before he forces out a smile. “Have I? I don’t remember. He is my favorite author, though, so… Yeah, maybe.”

She looks at him. There’s something he’s not telling me. Since he doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, she has no choice but to end it with a shrug. “Okay. I’ll read it.” She heads towards an empty couch, snickering. “If this ends terribly, you’ll have to buy me dinner.”

Yuuta chuckles, adding a hushed, “I would’ve done that every day had you let me.” She misses it. Clearing his throat, he replies a bit louder, “If it exceeds your expectations, will you go somewhere with me after this?” She stops in her tracks, turning her head around to face him. He understands the silent question—and the slight worry—shimmering on her face. “It’s not a date, I promise,” he says, although regrettably. “I just…” He tucks his hair behind his ear, another part of his mannerisms that she finds incredibly endearing despite how simple it is.“There’s this place I’ve been wanting to take you to.”

He seems anxious, waiting for her response, blatantly so that she feels sorry for taking a few seconds to think. “Sure,” she replies with a small smile. After all, it’s his first time putting effort into the game instead of letting her win all the time. “But you have to know that I have huge expectations on this. It’s your favorite author, after all. I gotta judge thoroughly.”

“Yeah.” Relief washes over him. “Yeah, okay.”

Two and a half hours have passed since then, and Yuuta waits with bated breath as she closes the book’s final page. She places it on the round wooden table between them, pushing it toward him. She remains mute.

Searching her face and desperately trying to understand what goes through her mind, he asks, “H-how was it?”

To his surprise, she stands up without a word, gathering all her things at once and sliding her arms through the sleeves of her coat. “So.” She plunges her hands into her pockets, huffing out an air. “Where will you be taking me?”

He blinks.

Then he turns the happiest he’s ever been.

***

“I can’t believe you only asked me to go to a ramen shop with you,” she mutters as they stroll along the pavements, breathing in the evening breeze that tickles their cheeks. They don’t have places they plan on going, not really, not after they have their stomachs full, but neither of them is willing to bid farewell just yet. They enjoy being in each other’s company, silently wishing for the hours to dance slowly between them. “Making it as a bet…” She snorts. “You know you could’ve just asked me to go, right?”

Yuuta titters, “Where did you expect me to take you?”

“I don’t know, a charity gala for the homeless, maybe? You made it sound like a big deal.”

“I’ll take you to the gala next time,” he jests. “Did it, at least, suit your taste? The ramen?”

They have come across an intersection, fitting themselves between the other pedestrians while waiting for the crossing light above them to turn green. “Hmm, could improve a little bit on the broth, I think,” she says. “That tonkatsu topping was a killer, though. I’m drooling just thinking about it again. I’ll give it nine out of ten just because of that.”

He smiles, primarily to himself. And as she peers at him from the side, she mirrors it, too. "You have that look on your face again."

"Pardon?"

“Every time you managed to make me smile, either by recommending a good book or getting food or drinks that suited my taste, you always looked so happy. It’s as if my joy is your joy. And I think the world would be so much better if everyone acted like that. Just, you know, making each other happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as kind and gentle as you are. Thought it was all an act at first, but," she chuckles. “You really are the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I’m glad we could be friends.”

Her lines startle him enough to turn his body into ice. Did I say something wrong? She questions herself. “Yuuta? You okay? I wasn’t being too much, was I?”

“N-no.” He loosens his collar, fire licking his cheeks. “I, umm... I don’t think I’m that kind of person at all. It’s just... When it comes to you, I…” His sentence dies before it meets its end; too distracted to finish it. His eyes stray away from her face as his ears pick up on words murmured by a couple of strangers nearby.

With her brows drawn together in curiosity, she follows his gaze, turning her head slightly so as not to appear so obvious. She spots two men in matching red varsity jackets sneering behind her, also waiting for their chance to cross the road, it seems. The college boys are standing a safe distance apart from her but close enough for them to catch a word or two of their conversations had they listened closely. Even if they can’t hear them, the way they’re smirking while stealing glances at her body clearly indicates what they’re conversing about.

She grows uncomfortable, turning self-conscious of her appearance. There’s nothing unusual about what she’s wearing, just a simple pair of jeans and a sweater underneath a coat, and yet, the two men make her feel as if she stood there in the nude. Her hand moves to adjust her jacket to cover her body better, feeling embarrassed despite it not being her fault. She feels powerless, failing to protect herself from being seen as an object. And to have this happening in front of Yuuta somehow makes it ten times worse because—

She doesn’t get the chance to finish her thought, her eyes widening in surprise when she feels Yuuta’s hand sliding around her waist. He pulls her close without warning, erasing any distance between them and nearly causing her to land face-first on his chest. She looks up at him, face flushed. “Y-Yuuta, what—”

She stops, staring at Yuuta with parted lips.

This is not the man she knows.

Anger pulses through his veins, and robs the gentle light out of his eyes—a glare so cold that it changes his whole demeanor. Had she known that Yuuta could display such an expression on his face, she wouldn’t have described him as kind and gentle a moment ago. The look he has in his eyes right now… It makes her blood curdle.

Staying still in his arms, she notices the way Yuuta maintains his eyes on them, like a protective wolf watching over his pack. She never thought a menacing stare like this would be such a good look at him, but it is. It charms her, her mind drifting off on its own, wondering if he would be this possessive over her if she were his. The thought doesn’t scare her as much as it excites her.

It doesn’t take long before she hears the boys clamp their mouths shut behind her, followed by rustling sounds of footsteps that grow fainter with every second passing by. She can feel his muscles unwinding, but the darkness in his eyes remains as deep as an endless void.

“Umm… Yuuta?”

At that, he snaps awake. “Oh, s-sorry!” He quickly backs away, letting her stand on her own feet. He’s back to the awkward, diffident person she knows, his face turning crimson without any chance to blame it on the cold wind. He bows his head in apology, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry for suddenly grabbing you like that, I—” He takes a breath. “I won’t touch you without your permission again. I promise.”

The way he acts… It makes her wonder whether he feels like he’s just as terrible as the two men before for doing something without her consent. “Thank you,” she says, tugging onto his sleeve to make him lift his head. “I got the feeling they were staring at me. I wouldn’t have done anything about it ’cause, well,” she tries to make light of the situation by forcing out a chuckle, “It happens all the time if you’re a woman. I just feel… a bit ashamed that you saw that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says, staggering her a little with his solemnity. “No matter what you wear, what you don’t wear, what you say, or how you behave, it’s never a woman’s fault to have men act that way around them. It’s our fault. So, never feel ashamed about it. They should, but not you.”

He truly is kind, she concludes in her mind. “For someone with a heart of an angel, you can be really scary sometimes. Those guys were huge, and there were two of them. I didn’t think you had it in you to glare at someone like that.”

“I—I didn’t realize I looked like that. I just wanted them to stop staring at you.” His face distorts in worry. “Did I… scare you?”

He probably would have, had she not seen this version of him in the dream already. But compared to how infuriated he looked when he faced Naoya Zenin, this one was nothing. “No, just surprised. In a good way,” she adds with a little smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone do something like that for me before. Satoru usually just told me to ignore them. So, thank you, really. I felt like I was in a shoujo manga therefor a second,” she chuckles before she notices the blinking lights above her. “Oh, the light’s green. Let’s go.”

She crosses the road with him trailing closely behind her, not realizing the changes in his expression. The mention of her lover’s name usually paints a sad color on his face, but tonight, it glows dark red.

***

They enter a coffee shop Yuuta recommended, a sudden change of agenda since the usual place they visited is closed for the day. She disrobes herself from her coat, plopping herself on her seat with a huff. “That was a long walk. I’m gonna feel it in my legs tomorrow.”

Following behind her with a tray in his hands (he insisted on carrying their orders despite her wish to help), he checks on her with concern. “Are you okay? See, that’s why I suggested we take the bus. The restaurant was too far away from here.”

“Well, sorry for wanting to take my time with you,” she pouts. “Was I the only one who enjoyed our long chat on our way here?”

“No, of course not!” He pales. “I enjoyed every second of it! I was just—”

“Relaaax, I was just kidding,” she simpers. “If my legs are still sore tomorrow, you’re paying for my massage.” She takes a sugar cube, watching it dissolve inside the cup as she stirs it with her teaspoon. Before she can take a sip, Yuuta drags the sugar bowl in her direction. “What?”

“You need more sugar than that. Try two more?”

“You think I can’t handle my tea?”

“It’s not that.” A peal of laughter escapes him, a bit tenser than usual. She wonders what he’s trying to hide. “I’ve had that before, and it’s a bit too bitter compared to what you usually have.”

“And how would you know how I like my tea?”

He freezes. “I don’t. I’m—I’m just guessing.”

“Uh-huh,” she narrows her eyes still. “Well, as much as I appreciate your concern, my good sir, I can handle my tea just fine.” She takes a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits her tongue, but she acts unfazed. “See?” She smacks her lips. “I’m fine.”

Yuuta watches her with adoration in his eyes as if trying to prove him wrong was an adorable habit of hers that he’s always loved to see. “You sure?”

It’s too tempting, and she’s only human. “Okay, fine, maybe one more.” She plops in another cube, stirs it, takes another sip, and it’s still too bitter.

Biting his lip to suppress his grin, he nudges the bowl again. “It’s still here if you want it.”

She can’t hold it anymore. Her mouth still feels like she just munched a handful of saffrons. “But two would be too sweet,” she says, yet she drops another cube into her cup. The second her tea hits her tongue, she blinks. It’s the perfect balance. “Huh…”

This time, he doesn’t tone down his grin. “Told you two would suit your taste.”

“Okay, you’re way too good at just guessing things,” she makes an air quote with her fingers. “How do you know so much about me? Are you my stalker?”

That wipes off his grin almost instantly. “N-no, of course not! Why would I—no!”

“I don’t know, Yuuta, that sounds exactly like what a stalker would say.” As he panics, she beams at him with a cheeky grin, and at that, his rigid muscles turn loose.

“You’re just teasing me,” he sighs in relief.

“A little,” she giggles. “But seriously. What is it? Am I that easy to read? Have I met you before?” She throws her options mindlessly, but her last question strikes him hard enough to have him perched still in his seat.

He tarries, cogitating on his response. “Do you… feel like you’ve met me before?”

She frowns, clueless as to what he’s indicating. Her heart wants to say yes, shout it out loud even, but a dream is just a dream, and it would be ridiculous to mix it up with her reality, wouldn’t it? No matter how real it felt.

“I think I would remember you if I’d met you before, Yuuta.” She chuckles lightly when adding, “You’re not easy to forget.”

She means it as a compliment, but Yuuta reciprocates with loneliness fleeting through his eyes. He separates his lips, eager to say all the feelings he’s bottled inside, but he clamps them shut before he can, dragging his gaze to his lap. “You’re right.” And yet, you did, his body seems to say. You’ve forgotten all about me.

Perhaps she’s just imagining things, or maybe she’s beginning to be as good as he is in reading his expressions, but her heart aches for him. Before she knows it, she reaches out, covering the back of his hand with her palm. “Yuuta,” she sounds soft, softer than ever, afraid to break the paper-thin glass he’s built around him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

His eyes shake, his face contorting in sorrow, the kind that comes straight from the heart. The silence between them, despite briefly, suffocates enough to the point where it feels like both of them are holding their breaths. The answer is clear: yes, there is. A secret I’ve been dying to tell. She knows that. She just has to wait until he’s ready to come clean with it. But today is not the time.

“No.” Yuuta retracts his hand, running away from her touch. “Just like you said, we’ve never met before.”

Then, why do you act like we have?

“But I promise you, I’m not a stalker.” He keeps his smile intact as always, but it feels foreign. Unrecognizable. Empty. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but you often share details about yourself when you talk. I just happen to pay attention, that’s all.”

Her jaw tightens. “I see.” It’s no use trying to force an answer out of him. What if I end up hurting him even more? Or scare him away? She leans back on her seat, sighing. “Well, you must have an excellent memory, then.”

His gaze falls to the silver ring around his finger, the same one he wore around his neck on the day they met for the first time at the library. “Yeah.” He clenches his hand, bringing it down to his lap. “You can say so.” ***

The clock’s ticking in silence, an eerie companion to the faint note of her breathing.

Her apartment appears much more spacious than she remembers now that Satoru isn’t here. The absence of his voice and the constant clicking sounds of his keyboard feel almost unsettling, but it never perturbs her as much as the fact that her heart doesn’t clench in loneliness or emptiness, even when she stands here alone with nothing but the dull, white walls staring back at her.

It should’ve, right? And yet, it doesn’t.

Her beating heart only seeks attention, searches for affection when Satoru is here, sitting right next to her. And accepting that thought terrifies her more than being alone.

Her boyfriend hasn’t come home since last afternoon. He hasn’t given her any notice nor made any effort to ease her worry. It’s not something new. She’s grown used to it. Maybe Satoru assumed they had remembered and understood each other’s schedules by now, which is true, but still, a message would’ve been nice.

The last text she received from him was around nine PM when she questioned his whereabouts, growing more worried about the dinner getting cold instead of his nose turning red from the evening breeze.

Still out with some friends. Don’t wait for me. - Satoru

She didn’t. The same way he didn’t thank her—or apologize—for the supper she’d taken an hour to prepare.

I thought you said you’d come straight home after your meeting tonight, she typed down her reply before choosing to erase it. There was no merit to gain from arguing about it. Satoru would never change.

Okay, she responded instead. Be safe.

He left her on read.

Re-reading his dry text message causes her thoughts to drift back to Yuuta, realizing just how different they are even when her mind begs her not to compare. It saddens her that her lover pays no heed to her well-being or her feelings, not taking a minute of his time to check whether she came home safely last night.

While her friend, on the other hand…

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Yuuta asked for the nth time that night, still reluctant to bid her goodbye even after he escorted her all the way to the station’s gate.

“Yuuta, I’ll be all right,” she chuckled. “I’ve taken this subway more than a hundred times already.”

“I know, but after seeing how those guys stared at you…” He exhaled restlessly. “How far is your place from the station?”

“Just a five-minute walk.”

He contemplated, mulling over the risks before he eventually let his muscles unwind. “Okay… But if you feel like there’s someone following you—”

“I’ll tell them, ’Excuse me, Sir, I already have a stalker of my own, and he’ll kill you before you could even lay your hands on me,’” she ended with a gleeful grin.

He pouted. “I’m actually worried, you know.”

“I know.” She replaced her amusement with gratitude this time. “Thank you, Yuuta. Really.”

“Will you, at least, text me when you get home? I need to know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

And she did, punching buttons on her phone screen with a giddy heart, her lips stretching from ear to ear, as soon as she arrived at her apartment.

No stalker in sight, Okkotsu-san. Only you. PS: Yes, Mom, I’m already home.

To which he responded with, “Thank goodness you’re safe.” No silly remark came from his side, no cute scoldings for her chaff. He was just genuinely concerned and now, relieved.

It felt… nice to be at the center of someone’s care and attention. She had forgotten that feeling a while ago.

Her phone screen suddenly flashes as she dwells in the memory, notifying her that it’s ten minutes to nine. Yuuta’s name flickers back through her mind. They had promised each other a few days before that they would attend a book festival this morning. The thought of meeting one of her favorite authors and getting her book signed certainly arouses her excitement, but it doesn’t ignite as much sparks as the thought of spending not only a couple of evening hours together but the entire day.

Spending the whole day with Yuuta…

A smile resurfaces on her lips, but she refuses to acknowledge it.

There’s only an hour to spare before then. I should get going.

Just as she collects her coat, the front door clicks open. Satoru steps inside with his black shirt unbuttoned nearly halfway to his chest, his tie unfastened, dangling loosely around his neck. As he fumbles around, trying to maintain his balance, he notices her standing near the kitchen counter. “Oh, hey, baby,” he greets her with a drunken smile, his eyes half-lidded. “I’m home.”

“Welcome… back…” She scrutinizes him with a frown. “Satoru, what—are you drunk?”

He giggles, a clear answer to her question. “Just a little.”

Satoru has always been weak when it comes to alcohol. There were many occasions back in their college days when he ended up doing foolish stunts with liquor in his system, and yet, he never learned. “I thought you promised me you’d never drink again.”

“That is true,” he simpers, teetering toward her spot. “That. Is. True.” He taps a finger against her nose with each word spoken. “But, listen. I was ready to go home after my meeting, but then I remembered, oh yeah, Haibara’s got a new place. And it was close by from where I was, so I thought, you know what, let’s drop by for a while, and so I did. I figured it was only going to be about half an hour or so, but man, he was so happy to see me. You know how he is, right? He’s always happy. Haibara was all like, Dude, we should invite everyone to come and hang with us, and the next thing I knew, a bunch of people came. Shoko was there. Ijichi was there, but fuck Ijichi, nobody cares about him. Anyway, Suguru brought this sake he got from Tohoku, or whatever, and God, baby, it tasted sooooo goooood,” he slurs out the words, leaning his body weight on her as he buries his face in her neck. “I was only planning to stay for a bit, but… couldn’t resist a good sake.”

“Satoru,” she tries to pry him away, her face scrunching as the revolting scent of alcohol fills her nose.

“Honey Bunny, please don’t be mad. I only had, like, three glasses, I promise. Or five. Or maybe ten. Shit, I can’t remember,” he chuckles, the sound muffled by her sweater. “This is probably why I shouldn’t drink, huh?”

She’s fighting to stay on her feet, struggling as his weight weighs her down. “Did you get home by yourself? Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

“I would’ve, but my phone died,” he nuzzles his nose against her clothed shoulder, acting spoiled to win her mercy. “And no, I didn’t. I got some girl driving me home.”

The news stings her like needles piercing through her skin. She pushes him away by the chest, glaring. “What?”

“Hmm?” He blinks idly. “Oh, no, don’t worry. We didn’t do anything, trust me. I don’t even remember her name. She was the only one with a car, told me she’d drop me at our building, so I hopped in. I didn’t think much about it.” He places a finger below her chin, tilting it up to have her meet his gaze. “What?” Satoru questions, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other. “You jealous?”

Is it… really jealousy, she wonders. Or is it just a plain, vibrating anger that emerges from not being respected, appreciated, or seen and remembered by the person who’s supposed to care for her the most?

“Babe, come on,” Satoru laughs. “I’m a faithful man. You know I am. I’ll never cheat on you.” Dismissing the resentment shimmering in her eyes, he strokes her hair, bending his head down until his smile ghosts over her lips. “And you’ll never cheat on me, too, right, Bunny?”

She freezes. In the split second before he closes the gap between them, her mind tries to understand why his question causes a guilty conscience to swell in her chest. She has neither done nor is planning to do anything like that. Yuuta is just a friend. She should not feel guilty about meeting a friend. No, if there’s anyone who should feel that way around here, it should be Satoru. Just look at him. He easily took a stranger’s invitation to climb into her car and had the nerve to giggle as he told me about it.

But she can’t deny it—this guilt that’s swirling inside. Her heart still echoes it every time Yuuta’s name passes through her head.

You wouldn’t feel this happy if you were just meeting a friend.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” Satoru traps her chin between his lean fingers. “Wish you could show this side of you more often.”

She throws her face to the side, avoiding her lover’s kiss just in time. “Next time you’re this wasted, Toru,” she maintains her distance, stepping away with a scowl, “call me.”

“I told you, my phone died—”

“I don’t care. Use someone else’s phone. You can’t just get inside a stranger’s car like that. It could’ve been dangerous.”

Somewhere, deep within the labyrinth of her mind, a voice reminds her how similar, if not worse, her past actions were to what she chastised him of. Going to a coffee shop with a stranger… Spending hours talking, revealing parts of her that she shouldn’t have… Sharing food and laughter, wishing for time to move slower…

I’m a fucking hypocrite.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Satoru sneers, wrapping his arms around her waist. Getting such a reaction out of her seems to delight him as she usually just nods and forgives him for everything, assuming it would take more energy out of her to bicker over it. “Why didn’t you come to the party anyway? Everyone was there.”

It only exhausts her further to push him away when he weighs more than he can handle. She faces the other way, avoiding his breath as much as possible. “I didn’t get any invitation.”

“What? But I sent you one.” He furrows his brows, trying to remember. “Wait… I did, didn’t I? I swear I texted you.”

“You didn’t even tell me you had plans after the meeting. I prepared dinner for you.”

“Oh, well.” He leans backward a little to give her a playful pinch on her cheek. “Guess we’re a bit lacking in that department, huh? Communicating, I mean. It’s been a while since we last talked. How are you, baby? What is my little kitten up to these days?”

To have her boyfriend finally paying attention to her after so long should delight her, but she feels nothing, knowing that he won’t take any information into his head in this condition. It will be a waste of time for them both.

And I have no time to waste, not right now.

“You need to catch some sleep.” She places a hand on his chest, sighing. “We’ll talk after you sober up.”

“I’m not that drunk—”

“Rest, Satoru,” she stresses firmly, trying to keep the sound of her impatience to a minimum. Stepping away, she turns around to collect her things from the counter. “I’ve made you some French toast and eggs for breakfast. They’re on the table. There’s plenty of food for lunch in the fridge, too. You can just heat them up later.” Slinging her purse on one shoulder, she gathers her key. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, where are you going?” He catches her hand, tugging her body back toward him. “It’s the weekend, isn’t it? What are you in such a rush for?”

His question brings her to a halt. She knows she’s in haste since she’s running out of time, but is she so eager to get away from him to meet another man, one that her boyfriend has specifically mentioned to stay away from?

“I’m—” She clears her throat, shredding the thoughts to pieces. “I’m not rushing.”

“Are you meeting someone?”

“No,” she lies, and it shocks her how fast and how easily it slips out of her mouth before her mind can decide. She shouldn’t have lied. There was no reason to lie. Why did I lie? She wants to correct it, but taking it back now will only make her sound… suspicious.

“W-what?” She asks out of agitation as she catches him staring down at her, examining her as best as his inebriated state allows him to. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Something’s different about you today,” he replies, crossing the distance between them. “Is it…” He investigates with unfocused eyes, too sleepy and intoxicated to process quickly. “Is it your hair? Did you cut it?”

“Umm… Yeah, I did.”

“Aha!” He exclaims, almost victoriously. “Don’t think I didn’t notice it. When?”

“Four days ago.” She’s grown used to this, too, to have the changes in her appearance—the changes in her world—remainunnoted in his eyes. The reason why he finally realizes the difference today is because she’s styled it differently.

Instead of letting her hair brushed and tied up in a simple bun, she decided to put more effort into it this morning. Taking inspiration from her appearance in her dreams, she wore half of her hair down and weaved the rest of her strands together, forming two lace braids that circled her head like a crown while the rest cascaded gracefully past her shoulders. Just like on the night when she shared a kiss with the beautiful boy by the beach, she completed the look with a kanzashi her mother gave her, a golden ornament in the shape of cherry blossom petals. She felt pleased seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, admitting to herself that this style suited her better than her usual one. A certain charm exuded out of her, a sense of femininity that she never bothered to showcase before.

“I’m trying on a new hairstyle,” she says. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Hmm…” He squints his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. “Fuck, I can’t remember what your hair looked like before,” he gives up with a laugh. “It doesn’t look bad, don’t worry. I like the hairpin. And your dress… You look nice.”

She doubts he means it this way, but in her ears, just now, Satoru sounded as if he was asking who are you dressing up so nicely for? “Thanks,” she replies awkwardly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “This is how I usually dress, though.”

“Really?” He steps forward, cornering her against the kitchen counter as he parades his smirk. “Then, I should’ve appreciated you much sooner.” Burying his face in her neck, he has his hands roaming her sides, sliding down from her waist to her thigh. “And you smell so good…”

“Satoru.” She lands her grip on his shoulders when he bends down to pick her up, trying her best to halt his movements, but to no avail. He places her on the counter, his movements still wobbly but sure and forceful enough when he pries her legs open for him. “No, wait—”

“Pretty.” He takes possession of her mouth, his hand holding her firmly by the back of her neck. “You look so fucking pretty today, baby.”

“Stop—mmph—” With her protest being swallowed by his kiss, she resorts to using her strength, placing both palms on his chest, trying to push him away as much as she can. But it only excites him, thinking of it as a little game.

“You’re fighting back? That’s hot,” he chuckles lowly. His desire to control and consume her paints a new shade to his hazy eyes. “Do your best, Bunny. Be rough with me.”

He takes it as a challenge, more lust brimming in his stare, more bites in his drunken kisses. With his mouth latching against her throat—wet, hot, and needy—Satoru pushes her dress until it pools around her stomach. He catches her skin between his teeth, nibbling, sucking; the alcohol in his system makes him dismiss any sign of her discomfort and turns it into fuel for his desires, forcing him to focus only on what his body craves.

“Toru—” She cringes in pain, her nails sinking into the back of his shirt. “That hurts!”

“Yeah? What should I do, then?” He pins her hands down against the marble, licking on the bruise. “Want me to be gentle?” Satoru distances himself just enough to let her breathe. His kiss may have turned soft, but he keeps his hand around her throat, his palm pressed against her front, ignoring the way she swallows heavily under his touch. “All right. I’ll be gentle.” He speaks his empty promises with his smirk returning to his face, his tongue peeking out to run across his lip as he takes in her flustered, breathless look. “I’ll be so gentle with you.” He spreads her thighs apart. “Do it nice and slow.” He grinds his hips against her, watching the way his zipper rubs against the thinness of her underwear. “I’ll do it just how you like it.”

Her stomach twists and turns. She doesn’t want to admit it, but it feels so much like… fear.

“I-I have to go,” she tosses her head to the side, trying to seek a way out as her panic inflates rapidly. “I need to—”

“It can wait,” he growls, his thumb dragging her chin down before he smashes their lips together, tasting her as he pleases, owning her as if he weren’t the one who’s been neglecting her for the past few weeks. The kiss is all the chance he gives her to get accustomed to his advances, and it only lasts for a mere five seconds before he starts working on his belt.

She’s scared. Terrified, knowing that it will hurt. They hadn’t gotten together in weeks, and even with enough foreplay—from his point of view, that is—it still feels painful sometimes. “S-Satoru,” she struggles, pushing him away with her heart rising to her throat. “Please, stop—”

Then he does, much to her relief.

But not for her sake.

“I can’t get hard…” he mumbles rather drowsily, followed by a peal of laughter. “Well, that’s embarrassing. Probably because I drank too much.”

Quivers remain in her fingers, but the air feels less suffocating to breathe in now. “You… You should rest,” she whispers shakily.

“Yeah…” He separates himself from her, unsteadily walking toward the living room, oblivious to what he has caused. He crashes face-first on the couch, groaning out, “Ugh, can you get me some aspirin? My head’s killing me.”

With her palm pressed over her chest, her heart continues to beat wildly despite her attempt to tame it down. “Okay…” She slides off the counter, her legs feeling like jelly when she returns to the floor. Ignoring the unnerving feelings that still linger, she focuses on providing him with what he needs.

Satoru thanks her with a grunt, popping two pills inside his mouth and flushing them down with water.

She takes a seat on the end of the couch where he rests his feet, her fists clenched tightly on her lap. “H-How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m dying,” her boyfriend, with one hand draped over his eyes as he lies down, replies with a hum. “But I think I’m sobering up a little bit.”

She watches him closely, her thoughts branching in a thousand different ways. A part of her still reels in the fear from the previous moment. Another side—one that holds a soft spot for him—begs her to forgive him and grant him a moment to collect himself. The rest of her urges her to leave, her eyes darting toward the clock on the wall more than necessary. She’s running late.

I have to go, but… How should I tell him? “Satoru—”

“I’m sorry.”

She turns still. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru repeats heavily, his eyes trailing their way back to hers. “For not telling you where I went last night. I should’ve. And I shouldn’t have drunk so much after I promised you I’d take better care of myself. And also… Sorry for almost forcing myself on you. Should’ve stopped when you said no. I don’t know why I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

His words stun her enough that it deprives her of her breath. Despite how immature he could be, Satoru always apologizes when he makes mistakes—she just didn’t expect it to come so soon. But instead of giving her the sense of peace she desperately needs, it only adds to her already overflowing guilt. Here he is, tossing his selfishness aside and asking for her forgiveness despite still having the world spin before his eyes, while she, on the other hand, is busy thinking about her friend and the wonderful time they’re going to spend together instead of offering to take care of her lover.

“It’s…” She wets her lips. “It’s all right. You’re drunk. You weren’t being yourself.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Though his eyes remain hazy, the mischievous grin, his flirtatious smirk, everything has been washed away from his face without a trace. “Next time I do something like that, punch me in the face or something. I’d rather have a broken nose than find myself hurting you like that.”

She swallows, her stomach twisting under his heavy stare. “Okay…”

Satisfied with her answer, Satoru throws his head back, massaging his temple. “You said you had to go somewhere today?”

“Umm… yes.”

“Where?”

“Jimbocho. There’s a… book festival I want to visit there. One of my favorite authors is attending. I’m trying to get my book signed.”

“That’s cool. You’re going there by yourself?”

Her fingers twitch before she curls them tighter into fists. She takes a deep breath and confesses, “No, with a friend.”

“Who?”

“The… guy from the library.”

Her words, almost instantly, change the atmosphere between them and paint his eyes dark. “I thought I already told you not to get too close to him.”

Had he said that a moment ago when she was still vexed by his drunk antics with a random woman he met at a party, she would’ve fought back with poison lacing her tongue. But now, as her legs still tremble from what nearly happened, her heart conflicted with the apology he just uttered, she can only chew on her lip, not having any strength left to cross swords. “We’re just friends.”

The more she repeats the word friend, the more gasoline she pours onto the shimmering flame inside him. “He invited you to go with him, didn’t he? Just the two of you together.”

Her chest tightens. Satoru managed to guess the big picture, but the details are even worse than that.

“Hey, do you know they’re holding a book festival in Jimbocho this weekend?”

“Really?” Her eyes flickered away from the passage she was reading, returning to the pair of sapphires that always felt like home. She brimmed with interest, sticking a bookmark between the pages to give him her full attention.“This weekend? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Well then, I have a surprise for you.” Yuuta, with a smile radiant enough to surpass the stars, slid a flyer down the coffee table that separated them. Among the fancy words written on the glossy paper, her eyes captured a string of letters forming the same name as the one embossed on the cover of the novel she was holding. “Kawakami-sensei will be holding a meet and greet session in the afternoon, so if you go there, you can have your book signed and—”

“No way!” She snatched the flyer with passion bursting from each fingertip, her eyes turning round, moving from one sentence to another as she skimmed over the details. Yuuta laughed a little to himself, warmth filling his gaze as he watched her body tremble with excitement.“Wait, Murata-sensei is going to be there, too? Yuuta, this list is insane!”

“I know,” he chuckled. “So, what do you think? Do you want to go with me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I'd love to—” She stopped as she skated over a certain line, her shoulders sagging almost right after. “Oh, no…”

“What?”

“It says here that they have limited seats for Kawakami-sensei’s session. It’s in two days. Do you think we still have time to reserve some seats?”

“You’re right, probably not,” he sighed, matching her disappointment. “But we can still try, and make a call. There should be a phone number somewhere in the flyer.”

“Yeah, I found it. Hold on.” She rummaged through her purse with feverish haste, punching numbers into her screen the second she found her phone. “Dear Gods in heaven, please just grant me this one wish, and I’ll give you the biggest mochi that ever existed as an offering.”

“That’s quite extravagant for a bribe,” he commented in amusement.

“Shut up. Wish me luck.”

“Mm. Good luck.”

It didn’t take long before her line was connected, and it took her an even shorter amount of time for their rejection to ring through her ears and cut all the threads that carried her hopes afloat. Like a child deprived of her chance to visit her fantasy land, she sank back into her seat, tossing her phone carelessly to the table. “Seats are full. Damn it.” She tossed her head back, groaning, “Ugh, I was so excited about it. This is the worst day of my life.”

“Oh, no,” he commented, surprisingly, with one corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“What?” She questioned, knitting her eyebrows together. “What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing,” he grins a little wider as he rises to his feet. He pushes his arms through the sleeves of his coat, fixing his collar as his face glows with amusement. “I’m just picturing how you’ll look like after spending ten hours on the train trying to get that mochi. You know the biggest one is in Iwate, right? That’s five hundred kilometers away from here.”

“Yuuta, what are you talking about—”

He slid another piece of paper down the table, smaller in size but thicker. She picked it up with a frown before her eyes widened in disbelief. “You… You got us the tickets.”

“I got you your ticket,” he corrected with a smile. “There was only one seat left when I made the call. Thank goodness I wasn’t too late.”

She jumped back to her feet, pushing the ticket toward his chest. “You should have it, then!”

His hand, cold yet gentle, covered her own, his smile melting into a softer one. “No,” he guides her fingers to close around the paper. “I want you to have it.”

“But… You like her work as much as I do.”

“There will be another chance, I’m sure,” he assured her, releasing her hand despite his entire being begging him not to. “I’ll spend some time wandering around the area, and I’ll meet you back at the venue when you’re done. After that, we can have lunch together. There's this great Chinese restaurant not far away from there. I’ll treat you to some dumplings. What do you think?”

It was as if he owned the map that led him straight into her heart, bathing it with joy over and over again with every word and action he made. “That sounds perfect,” she breathed out in delight, her eyes crinkling on the edges. “Thank you, Yuuta.”

And she knew her gratitude could never repay the kindness he’d bestowed upon her, but to him, it was everything he could ever ask for.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Telling Satoru the truth about what happened would end in a fight, she knows that for certain. “No, he didn’t invite me,” she answers, doing her best to remain unfaltering under Satoru's scrutinizing gaze. “I mentioned the event in passing when I met him at the library, and he said he wanted to check it out, too, so we… decided to go together, that’s all.”

A lie, one after another, and it sickens her to her bones, but what else can she say?

The pregnant pause that follows feels suffocating to her, and she wonders if it’s because Satoru, even in this state, can sense something in her words.

“Does he know about me?”

She knows the real question he’s asking: Does he know you belong to me?

“Yes. I’ve mentioned your name a few times.”

It doesn’t provide the assurance she wished for, but it elevates his ego just enough. “Good. This still pisses me off somehow, but I was a dick to you today, so…” He exhales, holding her gaze. “I trust you. You know what that means, right?”

She clenches her jaw. Those words are not born out of jealousy. This is him reminding her who owns her. “Of course.”

“All right. A book festival, huh?” he snorts. “Sounds like a party. Have fun.”

His tone irks her, but she doesn’t comment on it, not out loud. “I’ll be home before dinner.”

Satoru rolls himself to his side, snagging the throw blanket on the couch to cover his body. “Remember to tell Not Ugly Guy to keep his hands to himself.”

He flaunts his irritation like a child, but that’s the only thing he does. He could’ve said those words to Yuuta himself if he had cared enough. He could’ve told her, “Hey, you know what? Why don’t we go together instead?” and held her hand like a lover would instead of handing her over to another man and sulking all day about it. But he doesn’t do any of that, does he? He doesn’t even care enough to walk her to the front door. He chooses to drown in his anger instead of kissing her goodbye.

Satoru knows when he makes mistakes, and he takes responsibility for them. It’s the bare minimum a person can expect from a lover, but she appreciates that still. But this… This is the one thing he will never change about himself. His immaturity sticks to him like glue no matter how many years have passed between them.

If Yuuta were in his shoes, he would’ve—

No, she warns herself. Stop it. I’m being unfair to him. How would I feel if he started comparing me to another woman?

There’s no point in thinking about it now. Satoru will never change.

I just need to learn to accept him the way he is.

The way she’s always been for the last six years. ***

“Hey,” Yuuta greets her with a smile rivaling heaven’s golden hue. He arrives at the same moment she’s tangling her fingers around the door handle, one foot ready to enter the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at before they proceed to the venue together.

She stiffens in surprise, mostly because she thought he was already inside with a cup of black coffee brewing in his hand—though a part of her doubts that he would, knowing how Yuuta would always prefer to wait for her before ordering anything, not wanting her to feel like he’d been waiting a long time for her arrival. He’d always ensure she was taken care of first, double-checking her order and running to the cashier to get it ready. She remembers how he does that in the library, too. Yuuta would never have his nose stuck between the pages if she weren’t there, afraid he'd fail to notice her walking into the room if he was drowning too far in his book. Only after she started reading her novel would he begin to indulge himself with his choice for the day.

“Good morning,” he beams, eyes thinning into half-moons. He’s holding his coat in his arm, looking effortlessly gorgeous in a black shirt that matches his raven hair. He’s out of breath, his forehead slick with beads of sweat that threaten to fall off his chin. “Thank goodness, you just arrived. I was worried I kept you waiting. Wait, let me hold that for you.” He opens the door for her, welcoming her in.

“Thank you.” Her heart feels light, more of his presence than just his courtesy. “Did you run on your way here?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles bashfully. “My apartment is nearby, and it usually took me fifteen minutes of walking to get here, but my cat made a mess, so I had to see my landlord and—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, please, continue. I want to hear what happened.” Embraced by the warmth provided by the heaters in the room, she takes off her beanie as she steps further inside. “And I wouldn’t have minded waiting for you, you know.”

“No, I would’ve felt awful if I had kept you wai…” He stands still, lips parted in what seems to be awe the second he sees her hair. “…ting…”

There’s something written in his gaze, one that seems similar to the nostalgic feeling of meeting someone from the past. Not understanding why he’d feel that way, she assumes she read him wrong. His pretty eyes turn big and round as he gapes at her, utterly lost for words. “You… Your hair…”

“Huh? Oh, umm, yes.” She rakes her fingers over her strands, growing self-conscious. “I’m trying a different style. Does it look weir—”

“Perfect,” his compliment reverberates in the air before she can finish her sentence, his gaze, his heart, his soul enraptured. “You look… perfect.”

She can’t deny how much joy these little words bring. She feels appreciated. Satisfied. As if all the effort she’d put into styling her hair was for his sake and not for her own comfort. Yuuta runs his eyes over every detail, staring at her with such a longing gaze. His hand twitches, and for a brief moment, she thinks that he’s going to reach out to caress her strands, to give another praise, but through his touch, to make sure that she isn’t a dream even when she appears like one.

He notices it at the same time, it seems, as he suddenly throws his gaze to the ground, his fingers clenching into a fist to stop him from doing what his heart begs him to do.

“Y-you look amazing before, but—” He shyly looks at her again, smiling a little. “This suits you even better.”

The heat in her chest rises to her cheeks. Abashed, she tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, exposing a glimpse of the supple skin on the side of her neck. Thanking him for the kind words, she walks forward, her heart dancing out of beat. She expects him to walk by her side, but Yuuta is still trapped in the same place, standing still like a statue.

Only this time, darkness resides in his gaze.

“Yuuta?”

He blinks once, his stare returning to hers. They turn gentle once more, crinkling on the edges as his mouth twitches in a smile. “Hmm?”

He switches back so fast that she wonders if it was all happening only in her head. She may have imagined the look in his eyes, but she was sure she had seen him staring before. What was he looking at? She asks herself, recalling how his gaze dropped down to her neck. Was it my necklace? My collar? She fixes it, just in case. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” he smiles, but it’s the kind that leaves her queasy. The one that does not reach his eyes. He strides forward, asking, “So, matcha latte with oat milk like usual?”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Got it. Take a seat. I’ll order it for you.”

“Thank… you.” She walks separately with a frown, ruminating to herself as she finds an empty table for two. It’s not apparent, but there’s definitely a change in his behavior.

And if she had known him well as much as she knew Satoru, she’d realize that even though his words might come across as warm…

They reeked of jealousy.

Later that day, as she ties her hair up in a bun and brushes her teeth, she catches a splotch of dark bruise on her skin. It blooms purple on her neck, terrible enough for anyone who saw it to wonder how painful it must have been when she got it. It didn’t show when she wore her hair down earlier, perfectly hidden by her strands, but when she wears it up like this… or has them pushed aside…

Staring wide-eyed at her reflection in the mirror, her heart plummets to her stomach as her realization sinks in.

He must have seen it.

She’s ashamed, feeling like she just shattered the proper image of her in his mind—if there was even one to begin with. What will he think of me? She ponders, biting the nail of her thumb in her agitation. The thought of him perceiving her as a licentious woman who enjoys parading her lover’s kiss marks, wearing them as a badge of honor in public like that, terrifies her. She doesn’t want him to misunderstand or see her differently.

That following night, she can’t seem to draw her eyes to a close. The thought worries her so terribly that it chases her sleep away. But why does she care so much about what he thinks of her? No, more than that, why does it feel like… cheating? Not on Satoru, but on him. There’s this guilt that swells inside her, something similar to how she feels whenever Satoru questions her about him, only it’s worse. A million times worse. It almost feels like an act of betrayal, as if she was having a filthy affair behind his back with a man who knew how to hold her body but never her heart.

It’s such a ridiculous thought, but she can’t find herself laughing.

She sighs, realizing that in a matter of minutes, the sun will glow golden outside her walls, and she’ll have to face him again. Yuuta is a gentleman. He’ll never ask her about it, even if he had a thousand questions sprouting in his head.

Maybe I should just let it go and pretend he didn’t see it.

Easier said than done. Her chagrin and awkwardness still linger in her gestures when she greets him a few hours later, but Yuuta, despite looking like he couldn’t lie to save his life, wears his pretense perfectly. He acts the same way as usual, smiling and enjoying his endless conversations with her, doing it so well, that she begins to think… Maybe he didn’t see it.

Or he did, but… he just doesn’t care.

And that thought hurts her more than the way Satoru sank his teeth into her skin.

Her hand absentmindedly finds its way back to the scarf she has wrapped around her neck, her lips itching to say, it’s not what you think; he forced it on me, but she remembers she has no reason to. Yuuta is just a stranger she met a few weeks ago. There’s no need to explain or apologize, no matter how much her heart wants to. It would’ve been weird if she did.

“Yuuta.”

“Yes?”

“Wanna go get some crepes before we go home?”

He brightens, fireworks in his eyes. “Sure!” ***

From the first day she encountered the handsome stranger in the library, she always fell asleep with her heart fluttering. It almost feels like she’s a little girl, excited over her upcoming journey to the unknown. That’s what it is essentially, isn’t it? Every time she closes her lids and sinks deep into her slumber, she’ll wake up somewhere new, somewhere different, but what matters the most is that she will always, always wake up to his smile. It’s only right for her to be thrilled. After all, her dreams of him are always the sweetest ones.

Last night’s dream started with her walking down the street, stopping right before an intersection. As she looked around, her gaze stretching far across from where she was, she spotted the man for whom her heart longed, walking down the road that would lead him to her. She broke into her biggest smile, her hand raised high in the air, waving to gain his attention from behind the passing cars. She couldn’t wait for the lights to turn green. She wanted to run to him, to fall into his arms, to meet his lips with her own.

As the dream version of her drowned in the sweet fantasy of their reunion, her real self used the chance to collect all the details. She was still in Tokyo, she realized. The city—bright, colorful, and a hundred years younger—remained the same as it was in her last vision, still struggling to discover its identity by maintaining its traditional aspects while absorbing Western influence into its pores. Yuuta’s attire, however, was the perfect balance of that, with a white, collarless button-down shirt layered by an iron grey kimono, hakama bottoms that were a shade lighter, waraji sandals, and a dark flat cap to complete the look.

The young man caught her gaze from across the street, surprise overtaking his face before it instantly brightened as if she breathed more life into him, only with a simple curve of her lips. “Stay there,” he mouthed. “I’ll come to you!”

She nodded, her heart beating fast in the novelty of a first love.

Yuuta crossed the road in haste the second the lights changed, his mind focusing solely on her presence that he didn’t bat an eyelash when the wind swiftly stole his hat away and knocked it over to the ground. A few disturbed pedestrians cursed at him when his shoulder brushed against theirs inadvertently. His legs continued to run as he uttered his apology, only coming to a halt once he crushed himself against her in a tight hug. With the biggest grin, he lifted her off the ground, twirling her once while they basked in the elation of reuniting with each other. They softened each other’s gleeful giggles with a sweet kiss, one that lasted only a mere second despite their wish to continue. Had there been no witnesses, they would’ve spent an eternity just drowning in their passion for each other.

“You surprised me!” he exclaimed, breathless from the euphoria running through his bloodstream. “I didn’t think I’d see you here. I was going to pick you up from work. I thought you’d be ready by five like always.” He checked on the ticking watch circled around his wrist. “There’s still half an hour till then. Why aren’t you in the library?”

“Why are you already here, then, if there’s still half an hour on the clock?”

“Oh, umm…” He threw his gaze to the pavement, rubbing the back of his head as he turned shy. “I couldn’t stay still at the office. I kept thinking about you, and I just…” He slowly returned his gaze to hers. “I wanted to see you as soon as I could…”

Her heart soared and melted at the same time. “This is embarrassing for me to admit, but… I felt the same way. I missed you so terribly that I kept rereading the same page. Gakuganji-sensei told me I could leave early if I wanted to—I think he could tell my mind was elsewhere. I knew there was still time until you arrived, but I couldn’t wait any longer in that library, so I thought I’d meet you halfway. And maybe then we could spend half an hour longer with each other.”

Yuuta’s sparkly eyes turned round as he listened. “You… thought that…?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a bashful smile. “Don’t start crying now.”

“I won’t,” he sniffled, making her laugh. “Come here.” He pulled her into his embrace again, where she belonged, his arms tenderly enveloping her this time. “Maybe I should leave my office early every day so we’ll have more time together. Another half an hour longer with you… I’d love that.”

“I don’t think neither of us should make that a habit, but,” she tittered. “I’d love that, too.”

They traded smiles, her face scrunching adorably when he playfully rubbed the tip of their noses together.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he sighed, cradling her head close and burying his face in her strands. “I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about you, Sweetheart. These last four days felt like torture without you.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. “Me too.”

“I missed you,” he repeated. “I missed you so much.” Romance laid thick in the kisses he peppered down from her temple, her cheek, her nose, but when he heard her giggling from it, he nuzzled his face to her neck, tickling her further until she chortled out loud.

“Stop,” she laughed, placing a hand on his chest. “We’re in public.”

“Can we go somewhere private, then?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I believe it’s too early for us to act so indecently, Okkotsu-sama.”

“No, I—” He blushed. “I meant to talk. I have something I want to tell you. It’s good news.”

“What is it?”

He smiled, his hand sliding down to fill the spaces between her fingers.“Let’s go somewhere nice first.”

***

With their hearts intertwined and her dress swaying with every step taken, they walked down a path together. Crafted by a romantic hand, the sunset blossomed red and gold before them, a sweet caress of warmth to their cheeks amid the cool autumn breeze. They arrived at a lush park teeming with vibrant flowers and plants that were beautiful and fragrant. The leaves had not changed hues yet, but it would only be a matter of time before they colored the soil gold and scarlet.

A large fountain rested at its heart, confined by a ring of stones and concretes. The sound of water cascading, the shimmering reflection of light, and the beauty of the surrounding landscape had captivated the hearts of many, including their own, no matter how often they had visited the place in the past. It was there that they could be granted a moment of serenity, away from the briskness of the city.

They sat next to each other on the edge of the fountain, with her tilting her head in curiosity as he rummaged the insides of his bag. To her surprise, he presented her with a book, its thick weight unfamiliar when she held it between her hands. But once her eyes skated over the title and the author’s name, her stomach flipped.

It was Revival by Saori.

“T-this is—” Her jaw turned slack, searching for words. “Yuuta—”

“I did it,” he grinned. “I built your dream company.”

Her joy engulfed her so fast, so intense, she found herself jumping into his arms. He giggled endearingly at her reaction, his hands winding around her waist in reflex. With her hands circled around his neck and their hearts beating against one another, she whispered his name amid her gratitude in a voice laced with her upcoming tears.

“Are you crying?” She shook her head no despite her eyes growing hot. He laughed softly in return, rubbing her head in return. “Don’t cry. Be happy for me.”

“I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“I thought you said you weren’t crying.”

She landed a weak punch on his chest in return, feeling the vibration of his laughter against her cheek as she buried her face further in his warmth. “Wanna hear about our progress so far?”

Though enthusiastic about it, she could only nod in response, her lips still quivering from her tears. Yuuta smiled, telling his story as he continued to stroke her hair, a habit born out of his adoration.

“We’ve managed to sign a deal with six different authors. They’ve sent us a bunch of manuscripts—all of them are very interesting, and I honestly can’t wait for you to read everything. We’ve assigned some editors to work closely with them, and we’ll make sure to keep the authenticity of their works as best as possible. As of now, we have eight books we’re planning to release in the following months; three of them are from Saori-sensei. I know eight books are nothing compared to what other publishers release in a year, but… It’s a start. And you’re right. Seeing the joy on these authors’ faces when we give their stories a chance… It’s so fulfilling.”

She had a million things to say, yet she couldn’t say anything at all. Her chest felt so full that it left her breathless. “Words cannot express just how proud I am of you, Yuuta,” she curled her fingers around the back of his kimono, sinking her face into the crook of his neck as she struggled to blink back her tears. “I wish I could compose a better compliment, but… You’re amazing. Your bravery, your hard work, your resilience—I admire you so much.”

She might think that these words were far from enough to cheer his soul, but to him, they were everything he wanted to hear and more. “Thank you,” he whispered, brushing a kiss upon her temple. “This is all because of you.” She shook her head in disagreement. “No, really. I wouldn’t have done any of this if you didn’t give me the idea and motivation. You made this happen.”

She sobbed a little harder, stealing another chuckle out of him. “If you don’t believe me,” Yuuta splayed the book open on her lap, flipping the book’s first few pages. “Here. Look, even she thought so.”

She stopped breathing. There, written on the page before the first chapter began, was her name. Out of all the people to whom Saori could dedicate this book, she chose her. The author thanked her for making her dream come true, for giving her a chance and relight the hope she had once lost.

“Did… Did you ask her to write this?”

“No.”

“But you told her about me.”

“Uhh…” He winced. “A little bit.”

She shut the book closed. “Yuuta!”

“I just wanted her to know that this all happened because of you.” His eyes drooped as he pouted. “Was that.. something I shouldn’t have done?”

“No, it’s just… I feel embarrassed.” And happy. So happy, she felt tears prickling in the corner of her eyes again. “But this isn’t right. She should’ve been thanking you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Looks like she wrote down the right name to me,” Yuuta grinned rather cheekily, lightly bumping his shoulder against hers. “If I were her, I would’ve written down your name, too.”

Though she couldn’t accept the appreciation just yet, she focused on what mattered. Wiping her tears away, she asked, “Just how did you get your father to agree to this?”

“It surely wasn’t easy at first. I had to come up with a bunch of different business plans, trying to find one that piqued his interest. It took me months to convince him, but he eventually agreed. What surprised me was that he also agreed to fund my company and let me run the business all by myself. Maybe this is his way of testing me since I was being really stubborn about making a company for myself, and if it is, then I’ll take it as a challenge. It’s frightening and exciting at the same time to be in this position. I like it. I feel like I’m finally starting a new chapter in my life.”

Watching him suffused with so much jubilation brought her the same joy. She pressed a hand over his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I know you’ll do well,” she said with a pretty bow of her lips. “I’m sure of it.”

Yuuta angled his face to brush a tender kiss against her palm. “I know it took me almost a year to get to this point, and I’m sorry for making you wait so long. I was really worried that I’d run out of time to fulfill my promise to you, but… Thank goodness I made it just in time.”

“I would’ve given you all the time in the world, Yuu. There was no need for you to rush.” She pulled away, resting her palms on his chest. “I still can’t believe this is happening… You never mentioned anything about this, and I was always too scared to ask. I thought you’d forgotten about it and chose to do something else.”

“How could I forget about it? It’s your dream, isn’t it?” He pushed her hair out of her eyes with the gentlest caress of his fingertips. “And what follows after that… is my dream.”

If there was one thing in the world I wished of you… It’s for you to marry me.

Her heart hammered against her ribcages as though it was trying to find a way to escape. “Yuuta—”

“You said you would’ve given me all the time in the world, but Sweetheart, I don’t want that,” he sighed, yearning in his eyes, the kind that she imagined Saori aimed to portray in her book. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to hear your answer to my proposal. I want to know if you’ll… marry me…”

With his voice sweeter than a siren’s call, his intention so pure with nothing but affection in his heart, just how could anyone resist him? To decline his proposal would’ve been foolish of her—and she never wanted to. Every fiber of her being wanted him, needed him, loved himthe same way. Had she made a name for herself, something that could make her feel worthy to stand by his side, she would’ve stated her eternal vows right here, right then, to promise him that she’d love him until her dying breath, but—

Your father must be ecstatic to learn how his little, obedient son wastes his time with a commoner.

Naoya Zenin’s honeyed yet sickening voice, filled with nothing but mockery and disdain, echoed through her mind, snapping away all threads of hope and keeping her bound to the ground—reminding her of the reality that they did not belong in the same world.

“Yuuta…” She cast her gaze to the side. She was unsure what to say to him. Knowing him and how stubborn he could be to achieve his goal, she could tell he’d dismiss the differences in their status in a heartbeat, but what about everyone else in his life? What about his father? She hadn’t gotten the chance to meet him yet, but the way Naoya mentioned him…

I need to find an excuse. “Don’t you think we’re… too young to be married?”

He blinked once before scarlet painted over his cheeks. “W-we don’t have to do it right now! I know there are still things you want to do before you settle down, and I won’t rob that away from you, but…” He wetted his lips, restless. “I just—I want you to know that when I asked you to be my lover, this has been my intention from the start. I never dreamed of a fleeting romance. I want something that lasts, and I had never wanted to have anything like that with anyone until I met you. After knowing what it feels like to be with you, to be the happiest version of myself, I feel I can’t live without you anymore. It’s frightening to even think about parting with you for a second. It pains me every time we say goodbye, and I wish I never had to say that to you ever again. That’s why I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, each and every second of it. And I wish you’d feel the same way, too.”

She had her hand pressed against her chest, fingers curling as the same thought occurred in her mind, the same thought she wished she could profess out loud so he’d know she yearned for him just the same. “But.. What would your father think of me?” She finally spoke the truth.

He witnessed the crestfallen look she’d been trying to conceal. He leaned in close, taking her hand away from her heart. “I know you’re scared,” he intertwined their fingers together, kissing the back of her hand. “And I am, too. But we both thought my father would disagree with me about building my own company, and yet, he didn’t. Not only that, he has also become my main shareholder now. I wouldn’t have gone this far without his help.”

She gazed away. “I don’t think we can put our hopes based on that, Yuu…”

Sadness fleeted across his face, and it crushed her heart, but she had to say it to put a stop to his naivety before it was too late. He rested their joined hands on his lap, his voice quiet when he asked, “Is there any part of you that wishes to marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, without a second to waste. “Yuuta, every part of me wishes to marry you.”

He spun his head toward her, taking every detail of her expression. The tears that brimmed in her eyes, how she looked back at him… His heart swelled in joy, tugging on her hand until she fell back into his arms.

“That’s enough,” he breathed in relief, his lids shutting in bliss as his lips hovered above her shoulder. “To hear that you want to marry me, too—that’s more than enough for me. This is the happiest I’ve ever been…” He tightened his embrace. “Thank you…”

Her heart shattered. “Yuuta—”

“I beg you,” he cut her off quickly with a broken voice. “Please… Let’s hold on to those feelings for now. Don’t think too much about the future, don’t think about anything else, just focus on what you want to do with me. Just… listen to what your heart tells you to, the same way I listen to mine. Please…”

With those words digging their way into her heart, she found no strength to fight. He won. All the battles raging inside her, all these thoughts begging her to distance herself before time could hurt them, he chased them all away. It was easy, so easy to give in when all pieces of her soul craved for it, too.

“Just believe in us,” Yuuta whispered, before he added with a shy chuckle, “Love will find a way. Isn’t that what they say?”

She blinked back her tears, finding herself smiling just the same. It sounded too good to be true, but she chose to believe in it—no, she chose to believe in him. She knew, one way or another, he would find a way for them to be together. Whatever path he took, no matter where it’d lead them, she’d walk it with him if it meant she never had to let go of his hand.

A small space stood between them, a space that, judging from the way his eyes fell onto her lips, he longed to replace with a kiss. “C-can I be selfish and ask for one more present?”

Witnessing how his cheeks bloomed in the same shade of the red tulips flourishing around them, she knew the perfect way to answer him. She slid her hands in a graceful dance up his chest, her eyes drooping as she leaned in close. A whisper of “Yes” fell upon his lips, followed right after by the perfect kiss.

Perfect, until she wakes up. ***

#yuta x reader #solo leveling #jjk x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuta fluff #okkotsu yuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk smut #jjk fics #jujutsu kaisen #kana.fics #fics.desiderium

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premiumbitch · 18 days ago

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₊˚ෆ MAGIC POWER IDEA: THE ENCHANTMENT OF ETHEREAL GRACE ⋆˚｡⋆

(for my lovely @livingmydreamlife5555 <3)

THE MANIFESTATION OF CELESTELLE MAGIC:

When summoned, Celestelle Magic does not erupt in a violent blaze, nor does it crackle with chaotic energy. Instead, it unfolds like the dawn’s first light breaking over a slumbering world—gentle yet unstoppable, vast yet intimate. It flows through the air in cascading ribbons of rose-gold and crystalline light, each strand imbued with a life of its own, responding to the wielder’s silent command. These luminous threads weave themselves into intricate patterns, resembling constellations in motion, as though the very fabric of the cosmos has been called forth to dance in their presence.

A pearlescent mist lingers where the magic touches, shimmering with spectral hues as though infused with the memory of moonlight on water. It carries the scent of dusk-roses in bloom, of morning dew kissed by the sun’s first rays—a fragrance that lingers long after the magic has faded, like a dream slipping through waking fingertips. And within its presence, there is always a whisper of music—an ethereal melody caught between reality and reverie, a song that none can fully grasp, yet all can feel in their soul.

Wherever Celestelle Magic graces, the world is left softer, more luminous, touched by something beyond mortal understanding—a quiet promise that beauty, light, and wonder will always endure.

THE ESSENCE OF CELESTELLE MAGIC:

Celestelle Magic is not bound by raw destruction or simple spells; it is a force of transformation, of refinement, of cosmic elegance. It does not seek to dominate but to elevate—to weave the universe’s unseen threads into something more radiant. Those who wield it are not conquerors; they are dreamers, weavers of starlight, architects of serenity.

CORE ATTRIBUTES:

Ethereal Grace: Every movement of Celestelle Magic flows like poetry, effortless yet deliberate.

Transcendent Beauty: Its power does not scorch or break—it illuminates, unveils, and refines.

Boundless Will: It does not bend to force or fear; it responds to certainty, to quiet confidence in the self.

Harmony with the Cosmos: Celestelle Magic moves in rhythm with the celestial forces, resonating with the echoes of eternity.

POWERS OF CELESTELLE MAGIC:

Each ability within Celestelle Magic is a thread in a vast tapestry, each power flowing seamlessly into the next, as natural as the cycle of night and day.

DEFENSIVE & PROTECTIVE ENCHANTMENTS:

Aurora Veil: A barrier not of resistance but of redirection. It does not shatter upon impact but ripples like water, dispersing harm into light.

Celestial Crown: A luminous circlet of pure energy that hovers above the wielder’s brow, marking them as a sovereign of the cosmos. It channels celestial power, weaving protective starfire through the air.

Celestine Mirage: When threatened, the wielder dissolves into motes of shimmering light, reappearing elsewhere in a swirl of pink-and-gold luminescence, untouched by the world.

Empyreal Chains: Threads of prismatic energy that bind not with force, but with purpose, dissolving darkness, corruption, and malice from those ensnared.

Dreamweaver’s Blessing: A spell that weaves an aura of clarity and beauty into reality, revealing the world as it was always meant to be seen, untouched by illusion or deception.

HEALING & RESTORATION MAGIC:

Starlit Embrace: A force that heals not just the body, but the soul, washing away sorrow and exhaustion with the warmth of a dawn yet to break.

Dawn’s Embrace: Golden filaments of magic weave into the wounded, restoring vitality and weaving fate anew, as if bathed in the first light of morning.

Everblossom Enchantment: Starlit flowers bloom at the wielder’s command, their petals infused with protective energy that shields, binds, or purifies.

Moonlit Requiem: Silver-pink threads spiral outward, unraveling curses and illusions like shadows dissolving before the dawn’s first breath.

OFFENSIVE & COMBAT ELEGANCE:

Elysian Dance: With every step, ripples of celestial light sweep across the battlefield, unweaving darkness like tides against the shore.

Radiant Waltz: A spell where movement itself becomes magic—each twirl summons shifting sigils that act as barriers, weapons, or blessings, creating an unstoppable dance of power.

Eclipsed Serenade: A luminous eclipse manifests, slowing time as celestial energy weaves through the air, draining adversaries into a dreamlike trance.

Queen’s Reverie: The wielder’s presence alone bends the world; weaker foes falter in awe, while allies are filled with unwavering strength, as if standing before a force beyond mortal reckoning.

REALITY WEAVING & COSMIC INFLUENCE:

Dreamer’s Luminance: A power that paints illusions into the air—not mere deceptions, but glimpses of truth, of futures yet unwritten, of possibilities waiting to be shaped.

Celestial Lament: A song of sorrow and majesty, sung in a forgotten tongue. The stars tremble in response, weaving visions of dreams and memories into the minds of those who listen.

Eclipsed Serenade: A spell that calls forth the twilight of another realm, shifting the battlefield into a dreamlike haze where adversaries falter and strength wanes.

THE HEART OF CELESTELLE MAGIC:

To wield Celestelle Magic is to step beyond the mundane, to touch the very essence of the cosmos, and to weave light into the world with every breath. It is the magic of those who do not need to prove their power—for they are power itself, walking between the realms of dream and reality, leaving behind only stardust and wonder.

It does not seek to conquer, nor does it seek to destroy. Instead, it refines, elevates, and transforms. It is the whisper of the stars, the breath of the dawn, the melody of forgotten dreams carried on the wind.

To embrace Celestelle Magic is to embrace the truth that beauty and strength are not opposites, but one and the same. It is the birthright of those who carry the universe within them, those who see not just what the world is—but what it could be.

And in their hands, reality itself becomes art, a masterpiece woven from light and eternity.

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ranexpositioning · 9 months ago

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I'm obsessed with Rainbow Rowell's writing. And the thing about it is that it's simple, so it's overlooked. But no one writes romance like her. No one captures life itself like her, period.

Her writing isn't flashy poetry or noticeably profound on first read. It's subtle. But once you see it, you can't unsee it.

Like Cath, who was her own person starting school. And it wasn't a gimmick or surface quirky. She wasn't just an outlet for any reader to plug themselves into. Cath was a beautifully real character. And it's the little things, like how she never went to the cafeteria because she didn't know how people did things because no one ever explains how. Or the absolute awkwardness of being in love. Because Cath didn't need some over the top gesture or huge confession to show that she was in love. It just was.

And don't get me started on the Carry On series. Every reread and there's a new line to highlight. A thousand quotes that take on new meaning. Baz is always entertaining, because he's annoyed with several of Simon's habits and he loves him stupid.

Rainbow Rowell captures neediness and pure want, and put it in the pages of her books.

#rainbow rowell #carry on #simon snow #fangirl #cath fangirl #baz pitch #simon and baz

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thegleamingmoon · 9 months ago

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Beloved.

Chapter 1 - Meeting you.

🪷✨ ❛ In every world, my heart would bloom for you. In every moment, in every lifetime, amidst the stars and the endless ocean, in every heartbeat and whispered breeze, I would choose you always and forever. ❜ ✨🪷

*********

The golden rays of the early morning sun filtered through the intricate carvings of the Padmanabhaswamy Temple, casting a divine glow upon its magnificent structure. And there she was, draped in a simple yet elegant saree as she walked through the temple's corridors, her footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone floors and like every other day, the air was fragrant with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, as the devotees murmured their prayers, lost in their own worlds of devotion as the girl walked into the inner sanctum, where the majestic form of Lord Padmanabhan lay in eternal slumber.

"Dear lord, please look after the world like you always do. I pray for the good health of my family and dear ones. May you always be with them and keep them happy." This was what she usually prayed for. Nothing more, nothing less. But today was different, she had come here to seek solace in the divine presence of her beloved deity but she still felt restless for reasons unknown.

The strange sensation grew as she moved out from the sanctum to the temple premises, she felt as if someone was watching her. Turning around, her eyes met those of a man standing a few feet away. He was tall and handsome, with an aura of mystery surrounding him. His complexion, very much like the clouds filled with rain and eyes, deep and penetrating that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

"Namaskaram", he greeted her with a warm smile, his voice gentle and calming.

"Namaskaram," she replied, curiosity piqued by this stranger. "Are you new to the this place? I haven't seen you here before."

"Yes, I am new to this city." he said, his eyes twinkling with hidden knowledge. "I’m Aravind. May I know your name?"

"Bhadra. It's nice to meet you, sir", she replied and saw his smile grow wider, making his eyes twinkle with an emotion she couldn't comprehend.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bhadra. And we can drop the formalness." He said as she shyly giggled. It was sweet to hear her name in his beautiful voice. She thought, mentally facepalming to bring herself out of her mind. Something was really wrong with her today.

As they walked through the temple grounds, Bhadra found herself more intrigued, drawn into a conversation with Aravind. They talked about the temple, the city of Thiruvananthapuram, its history, and the legends that surrounded it. He spoke with a depth of understanding that left Bhadra in awe. Hours passed like minutes, and soon the sun began to set, casting an orange hue hue over the temple.

"What brings you here? And how do you know so much about this place?", Bhadra asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Aravind smiled mysteriously. "Well, I have always been connected to this temple."

"Tell me about it." She looked deeper into his eyes, only to find a glimpse of her own secrets that were kept away from the world.

Bhadra lived a simple life, tending to the temple and helping those in need. She didn't remember a time when she was not insanely drawn to the deity. She had always looked up to the blue-hued god who slept on a thousand hooded serpent. She saw him in the vast sky, in her delusional thoughts, in the poetries she wrote, in the songs she sang and in almost everything she did.

She would dream of peacock feathers, moonlit nights and beautiful dense forests where gleamingly blurry visions of her beloved flute player would greet her with bliss and confusion. She would hold on to them to this day and maybe forever, without any expectations but just pure, boundless love that she had.

"Maybe those visions are trying to tell you something? You still get them don't you?"

That deep voice of Aravind broke her chain of thoughts as she looked up at him perplexed and maybe a little annoyed.

"Did you just read my mind?"

He just replied with a cheeky smile as he brought himself dangerously close to her, "Perhaps I just understand you better than anyone else, Bhadra. I have always done so." he gently whispered, only making her confusion grow.

"And I have always wanted to tell you that I love to hear you sing, even though you don't sing often. Your voice melts like honey into my ears. I can listen to it everyday." He looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"How do you say that when you have never heard me sing? Who are you, Aravind?", she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "You seem to know me in ways that no one else does."

He chuckled even as his eyes were moist, "Oh I have heard you countless times. You, my dearest, are much more than you think of yourself to be."

"What do you mean?"

"As much as I want to explain, I can't. He sighed wistfully. "It's sad, but I have to leave now. I will return soon, Bhadra. Until then, promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"Why?" She clearly didn't understand a thing. It didn't seem fair, or so she thought. This man had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, mysterious but familiar, only to say he’d disappear again, leaving her with countless questions. Yet, somehow, it all felt right. Despite not wanting him to leave, she could only hope that he would come back.

Adoring the curls that framed her soft features one last time, Aravind stepped back. "Until next time," he voiced, extending his hand. Bhadra grasped it firmly, losing herself in his eyes as she tearfully bid him goodbye.

"Moley," she heard her father's call and turned around. "I'm here, Appa," she yelled back, hearing his hasty steps as he reached her.

"I knew you'd be here," he said with a warm smile lighting up his kind eyes. "It will be dark soon. I want you to come home with me." He gently caressed her head, and she nodded in agreement.

"Are you okay, kanne? Were you talking to someone here?" He asked, concerned.

Bhadra turned to her side, only to find nobody there and smiled in despair and surprise. It all felt too real to be one of her delusions and too elusive to be reality. She wanted to tell her father about the mysterious person she met but she knew that it would be difficult for him or anyone to believe. So she chose to remain silent about everything that happened today.

"No, Appa. Let's go home" She replied as she followed her father on their way back home.

Today was different indeed.

**********

Moley/Kanne - a way to address a daughter or a little girl in Malayalam.

A/N - Wanted to write something like this for the longest time. This may have some cliche moments but this work by far, is the closest to my heart. And I may turn this into a series if y'all wish. So let's see. I hope you enjoy reading it <3

Tags- @krsnaradhika @houseofbreadpakoda @harinishivaa @achyutapriya @kaal-naagin @sambaridli @sambhavami @yehsahihai @ramayantika @khushireadsandrambles

#desiblr #gopiblr #modern au #love #trivandrum #vishnu #goddess lakshmi #ashtabharya #krishnabhakti #krishnablr #krishna #radha #gopi #aesthetic #writers on tumblr

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merakiui · 2 months ago

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mera what does skully think of period sex?? 🥺

👁️ 👁️ if it’s Skully in the Victorian era, then the mere idea of any type of sex before marriage is absolutely scandalous. I think he’d salivate over your menstrual belt (the Victorian equivalent of the modern-day pad). OTL if he gets his gross, grubby, gentlemanly paws on it……. >_< it’s not even simple curiosity; it’s love and lust, the most carnal of desires when he sniffs at the stained garment,,, lapping at it like a terrible mutt!!! Wrapping it around his dick as he fucks into his fist in the shadows where candlelight can’t reach. If you knew of the filth he got up to with that garment of yours, you’d surely think he was a rotten, depraved thief. As far as you know, it’s merely missing. A misplaced article of clothing. :)

But he can’t help it. :< he wants to know everything about you, savor all that there is, be as close to his love as possible. And this will sate all of those urges (for now).

Omg and if he does get to have you on your period…. he’s determined to please you!! To give you pleasure so praiseworthy it’s as if Eros himself has bestowed it upon you. Laying you down on the soft bed and kissing his way down to your special place while lowering to his knees. Stuck between your legs as he licks at your sopping cunt, his fingers dipping into the pudge of your thighs as he holds them apart. Sloppy in technique he may be, he makes up for it with enthusiasm and determination. He could spend so much time stuffing his fingers and tongue inside you, tasting your blood. When he pulls back, his maw is stained with your blood and his pupils are so delightfully, maliciously wide.

He’ll wax the sweetest poetry about it, too. <3 so enamored with you and your menstrual cycle. You’ll have to beg him to finally put his dick inside, otherwise he’ll dive back in for more, and a command from his dearest is something he’ll never ignore. You’ll get whatever you ask for and more from him, for he cherishes you so. The pure-white linens are stained a lovely scarlet by the time you’re both finished and lying snuggled together, shushing each other as you giggle about this sinful affair.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: periods #tw: period sex

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nathalie-worlds · 19 days ago

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Bachelors writing their wedding vows (also, how good are they expressing with words), from the worst to best:

ALEX

He is too into his macho persona, and it's very difficult for him to show his real thoughts and feelings in front of others. He practically only opens up to you about his feelings. He will write a lot of basic things, interspersed with terrible jokes to try to lighten the mood. But he (and anyone who reads it) will hate it.

Unexpectedly, it would be George who helps him out. He will tell him to "man up" and scold him for not being honest with himself and his partner. His spouse deserves to be with someone who can show his authentic feelings, not someone who hides behind immature jokes!

Then, George will share a heartfelt story about how he proposed to Evelyn. He spent weeks working as a miner, facing monsters, being careful with explosions, just to gather some gold and a diamond to craft their wedding rings. Even though he had nothing except his heart, he did everything he could to be worthy of her love—just as Alex must do.

This will serve as an inspiration to Alex, and during his vows he will mention that he hopes to have the same thing what George and Evelyn share between them, with you.

SEBASTIAN

He is timid and introverted. But thanks to the band, he has developed some artistic abilities and can write something and put his feelings into it. I think he will be the only bachelor who won’t ask for help, mainly because he wants to give you something that is purely from him. However, he despises the idea of expressing his feelings in front of the whole town. In fact, he is not amused by the idea of weddings.

Oh, he loves you—he truly does—and if you want a wedding, he will go along with it. But he will try to find ways to say his vows on his own terms and will try to compromise with you to reach a common ground. However, if you agree with him and follow his idea, you will hop on his motorbike and escape for a couple of days on an adventure. You will go with documents to Zuzu City to make it official, but your real wedding would be in a charming chapel lost by the roadside during a beautiful spring day. It will be simple but very romantic. You will never be able to find that chapel again, no matter how much do you look for it, making it looks like a dream place that never existed.

Then, he will have no problem telling you everything he feels for you, because, in his eyes, vows are meant to be for you and you alone—not for an audience.

SHANE

He is not ashamed of showing his affection for you in public. He doesn’t mind draping an arm over your shoulder from time to time at the saloon. He knows that people have noticed there is something between you, even before dating, so telling his feelings in front of an audience is not a problem, even despite he is not the type of person who likes to show them.

The problem is that he is terrible at showing his affection with words.

While Marnie is helping him putting his thoughts into words, Jas will intervene, saying that she saw the writer in the library while being tutored by Miss Penny and that one time he taught them a class about poetry and literature.

This will give Shane an idea and he will go to the saloon to ask him for help. It will be very blunt to the point of comedy:

"Ok, writer boy, you’re friends with my future spouse. I need your help with something."

In the end, he will write something incredibly sweet for you—something so heartfelt that part of the audience might tear up. Maybe even you.

His words will be raw and honest, telling you how he once felt lost, trapped in the darkness, convinced there was no way out. But then, he met you and you showed him that life is worth fighting for. As he speaks, his voice may waver, heavy with emotion, but every word carries the depth of his love and gratitude. He will tell you how much you mean to him, and how he wants to spend his life with you.

HARVEY

He is very open about his feelings and has no problem asking for help from Maru or Elliott (because Elliott is always willing to help anyone write anything). However, his main problem is saying those vows in front of everyone. To him, it feels like exposing his most vulnerable parts to the entire town, like standing under a spotlight with nowhere to hide. The idea of so many eyes on him, witnessing such an intimate moment, makes him uneasy.

But he also doesn’t want to let you down. He wants to show his appreciation for you, to make sure you know how much he loves you. So, after much thought, he decides to go for something short but sweet and genuine—something that captures his feelings without making him feel completely exposed.

He tells you beforehand so you don’t write something too long, ensuring that the balance feels right between you both.

His vows may not be lengthy or grand, but every word he speaks carries weight, sincerity, and love. And in the end, that’s what truly matters

ELLIOT

Ok, ok, I know I made him help other bachelors… but listen to me! It’s not that he can’t write something good—in fact, he’s very good at it. And if any other villager needed help writing their vows, they would definitely go to him. But here’s the thing: he’s a writer, and you’re his soon-to-be spouse! He expects a lot from himself!

He has so many ideas that he simply can’t choose just one. He’ll write Shakespearean verses comparing you to everything beautiful in the world, Baudelaire-esque notes about how you are more wonderful than light itself, and poems so breathtaking they’d make Bécquer look like a novice! He has too much to say—so much that the wedding could last three days if he read it all!

Luckily, Leah helps him simplify it. She comes up with a brilliant idea: instead of discarding all his drafts, why not save them? So, he gathers every note, every poem, every beautifully chaotic thought and puts them into a notebook—to give you as a wedding gift.

SAM

He writes lyrics and sings in public without hesitation. He has no problem showing his feelings or expressing them loudly for everyone to hear. However, even he wants to do something extra special for you, something that stands out. So, he won’t hesitate to ask for ideas from Sebastian and Abigail, knowing they’re great at brainstorming and coming up with creative ideas. He’ll also turn to his parents for advice, but sadly, Kent can only offer grim phrases like, “Life is too short”, "everything can end so quickly".

In that moment, something shifts in him. Instead of focusing solely on the task at hand, he realizes that he needs to help his father to see the brighter side of life. He knows Kent has been carrying a weight too heavy for one person to bear, trapped in memories that won’t let him go. And yet, even with his pain, Kent is still there for him.

He will ask him about his vows to Jodi, and Kent will reply with difficulty, as if good memories have been erased from his mind. However, he will remember what he thought while he was imprisoned—how beautiful and kind she was, how, despite their youth, she chose to commit to him and keep her promise years later. He will recall how she sacrificed her younger years to take care of their first son, something he deeply appreciates, and how much he wants to repay her for all those years and sacrifices.

Most of all, he will remember that he needed to survive to be with her again—because she was his reason to keep going.

This will serve as an inspiration, not only for his vows, big to write anti war songs, that would be a hit.

Drawing made by Piscesquare:

Please, if you enjoy it, reblog. Thank you very much!!!

#sdv shane #shane sdv #stardew valley #sdv #alex sdv #sdv alex #elliot sdv #sdv elliott #harvey sdv #sdv harvey #sebastian sdv #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sam sdv #sdv bachelors #stardew valley bachelors #my drabbles

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jaysscar · 1 month ago

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heart eyes

summary: some valentine's day headcannons for barry, hal, ollie, and jason !! (pure fluff) (688 wrds) (m.list here !!)

notes: so sorry that my ollie fic is coming out late but i PROMISE it's almost done i swear 😭 also tysm for 30 followers !! i wasn't expecting that many people to like the content i post so tysm !! and happy valentine's day to anyone that celebrates <3 also reader's pronouns or specific attributes aren't mentioned, i tried to make this as inclusive as possible <3

#BARRY

likes valentines day but definitely won’t go ALL OUT like hal or ollie 😭

keeps it simple with a box of chocolates and flowers <3

also makes you breakfast before he leaves for work (I’M GONNA COMBUST STOP HE’S TOO CUTE)

you got him a new tie for work, it’s his fav colour AND fabric (i’ve seen panels of barry wearing ties at work so i THINK this is canon, if not then whtvr :p)

also got him a new pair of running shoes because he goes through them like CRAZY

barry also decided to make a cute homemade card, he’s not the best artist in the world but it’s the thought that counts !!

either takes you out to a restaurant or orders in takeout and watches silly romcoms with you depending on what the both of you agree on <3

you guys watched the notebook and WEPT like AGHH 🥹

y’all fell asleep on the couch watching the proposal (off topic but i HAVE to write a fake dating fic !!)

#HAL

really enjoys valentines day because it is one of the ONLY times of the year where he can be extra affectionate in public without getting weird stares (LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THIS MAN ISN’T INTO PDA)

wakes you up with a big ol SMOOCH 😜

jkjk but he actually just covers your face in kisses to wake you up :p

takes you out on a space date, like seriously he will find a planet that’s just insanely pretty (and not deadly), FLY THE TWO OF YOU THERE and have a PICNIC with you

you get him a new pilot jacket, he literally tweaks when he opens it like i’m being so serious like he’s SO HAPPY

he buys you a new toaster, after 2 years THE TOASTER HAS RETURNED (read green beans and bubbles for context <3)

overall this man went above and beyond for you, like seriously this man loves you SO MUCH like it’s not even funny anymore 💀

#OLLIE

was BORN to celebrate valentine's day, like it’s INGRAINED into his dna atp 😭

i mean come ON he’s literally a superhero who shoots ARROWS, is that not your own modern cupid right there??

when i tell you that ollie goes all out, I MEAN IT

he has a whole DAY planned out for the two of you from start to finish

you guys start with making breakfast together :p

then he takes you to a SPA for most of the day and then takes you out for dinner at your fav restaurant

and when i tell you the spa experience was an 11 outta 10, TRUST ME it was an 11 OUTTA 10 !!

you get him a new bow and arrow set, his heart literally MELTS when he opens it like GAH 😭

solid 12/10 day, NO COMPLAINTS from either of you hehe

#JASON

so nervous that he’ll mess up valentines day even though you guys have been dating for over 2 years and know about his secret identity 💀

for the day you guys go to a book store and buy a book for each other that the other has been wanting to read (jason i’m gonna need the bell jar, NOW)

will literally be nervous book swapping with you even though he knows he got you the EXACT book that you want, right down to the type of cover art like he just KNOWS

you guys make dinner together and then eat it by candlelight, a classic <3

when dinner is finished jason reads you a poem he wrote about YOU (AHHHH)

when i tell you this man takes poetry to the next level, I MEAN IT

john keats has NOTHING on jason todd thank you very much !!

by the end of it the BOTH of you are crying

you’re crying because the poem is so heartfelt and jason’s crying because he just loves you so much and the poem is just his heart on paper 😭

y’all end the night with dessert and trashy reality tv (no day of the year will stop me from watching my strange addiction idc !!)

tysm for reading everyone !! also my ollie fic will be posted at 3pm est on the 15th !! hope you guys enjoyed this <33

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pillow-ghost-nan · 2 months ago

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VERY LONG wolfstar fic rec list PART 1

I spend way too much time reading fanfictions and wolfstar is the love of my life so yeah. Also most of these are E and M rated cause I just love my smut

PART 2

PART 3

Please let me know if any link needs fixing or if there are any mistakes. Enjoy!

Multi-chapter:

Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming by wolfpants

Rating: E, 53k words Remus Lupin is a student and temporary sales assistant at Oxford's finest department store when a mysterious, handsome young man by the name of Sirius Black enters his life and introduces him to a world of sprawling country estates, parties, and London's underground bar scene. A 1960s Wolfstar AU with lots of music, smoking, fine interiors, and, of course, romance.

Of Cinema and Sticky Notes by bluepeony

Rating: E, 12k words Remus Lupin is the office bore. Sirius Black is the office sweetheart. They fancy each other, on a purely aesthetic level.

The Road to Sweetwater by EuripidesTrousers

Rating: E, 57k words “Well. They don't call me Mad Sirius Black for nothing”, Black drawls lazily, “Speaking of drinks - you got any whiskey in your pack there or just old biscuits? Caught me talking politics and now my throat's awful dry.” Remus lifts his brow incredulously, disbelief creeping into his voice, “You must think I got a real short memory thinking you're owed a drink after that show back there. You clean forget you're at my mercy, and then go trying to steal my horse-” “Not in the habit of letting a man put me in the dirt without buying me a drink”, Black drawls, his grin turning sly, “Or maybe you got something else that'll make defeat a mite easier to swallow.” Sirius Black is wanted by the law in the state of Wyoming and Remus Lupin, who's still deciding which side of the law a bounty hunter sits on, captures him for the price on his head. It should be simple. But there's something in the air that Fall that sets Remus' compass spinning, and nothing seems simple anymore.

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings by Soupy_George

Rating: E, 126k words Heirs to the peerage didn’t write rock songs or play bass, they wrote poetry and learnt the cello from the age of five. Heirs to the peerage also got married and continued the family line. They certainly didn't get struck by a bolt of homosexual lightning in the middle of a grotty pub in Sheffield…. * “No doubt,” the barman said easily, handing the card back across the bar, “Just thinking it were nice tha’ posh twats have stupid names too.” He pointed to his chest, “Remus, thanks t’me daft mam.” A story about music and family, the price of fame and finding love somewhere completely unexpected.

Statten Park and Sunshine on Leith (Freedom & Whisky series) by eyra

Rating: E, 32k words He's absolutely maddening. It happens every summer: this dance, this flirting that Remus has never quite managed to get to the bottom of. Either it's a complete wind-up and Sirius is even more of an entitled bully than Remus has always thought, or it's going to end with Remus letting Sirius bend him over the storage crates behind the catering tent one year. It's one or the other. The boys spend a glorious long weekend together at Sirius's family estate in the height of summer.

The Long Way Home by HollyIvyDruzy

Rating: M, 177k words "SEEKING TWO ROOMMATES FOR HOUSE SHARE – SINGLE ROOMS AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY. FOUR BEDROOM HOUSE LOCATED ON EAST SIDE OF TOWN BY CATHEDRAL – CURRENT RESIDENTS FIRST YEARS. NO WEIRDOS PLEASE." Remus never expected to go to Westerbury University, but then he also never expected to meet force of nature Lily Evans while house-hunting, James Potter while replying to a horrendous handwritten advert, or Sirius Black once he had already decided to move in. Soon it becomes clear that even the best laid plans can be thrown out of the window when starting university living with a group of strangers. A university AU with a dash of humour, a sprinkling of angst and some pining for good measure.

Honeydew by lunchbucket

Rating: E, 40k words Healer Sirius Black feels like his life is going through the motions. He is still recovering from the tragic death of his best friends four years prior while doing his best to parent their five-year-old son. However, when a new patient's encounter with a mysterious creature leads him to contact a person from his past, his life gets shaken up into one giant beautiful mess that he isn't sure he knows how to handle. Or, That magic feeling when you find someone who can see you when you can't even see yourself.

Odi et Amo by afieryfox

Rating: E, ongoing Classics student Remus has everything figured out; his courses, his career path, his life — until a mysterious transfer student turns his whole world upside down. Remus despises Sirius Black from day one, quickly set out to beat his new academic rival in any way possible. Angry glares over text translations follow angrier words thrown at the other late at night. All too soon, hate morphs into obsession. And everyone knows what obsession leads to.

Petty (With A Prior) by lunchbucket

Rating: E, 65 words Showing up for his ‘civic duty’ is one thing, getting out of jury duty without losing his shit is another. Tack on an attorney who finds the whole fiasco hilarious, and Remus might as well be in hell. The Courthouse AU of my dreams.

Dunes and Waters by MarigoldWritesThings

Rating: E, 37k Remus is sensitive to changing tides, a part of the moon always with him, and Black is like the sea. He can smell it on him, the way his magic builds up and crackles about the fingertips. *** A werewolf, a convict, and a riddle.

Like an Accident by lurikko

Rating: E, 12k words November 1993: detective Sirius Black has a new case, and a new partner.

Black Diamonds and Moonlit Snow by iamafullyrealizedcreation

Rating: M, 66k words “A marketing manager from Wales, moved all the way to Maine, to work for a ski mountain, and you don’t even ski. Remus Lupin, you just keep becoming more and more mysterious. What other secrets do you have?” There were two paths in front of Remus, one where he flirted back with the beautiful, handsome, dangerous man in front of him, and one where he remembered that Sirius was his co-worker, and more importantly, made his living doing the one thing Remus hated most in the world. “You’ll find that beyond all that, I’m rather quite boring.” Remus said, as he settled on a decision. Sirius sat back in his chair and gave him a doubtful look, and the start of a smirk. “We’ll see.” Remus Lupin starts work at Mount Calset with the goal to bring people to the ski mountain, and has to learn to deal with "face of the mountain" famous ski racer, Sirius Black OR A story about overcoming your fears, and the type of love that makes you feel brave.

Go East by xinasvoice

Rating: E, 84k words Remus has been running for a long time. Eventually, he runs into a strange castle built by a wizard and his young apprentice. The longer he stays, the more secrets he uncovers...and the less he wants to leave. This is a novel-length adventure story that loosely follows the plot of Howl's Moving Castle. It does not require knowledge of the HMC book or movie to enjoy it.

The Horcrux Hunt by lostmy_keys

Rating: M, 143k words He is a Slytherin, a Black, and an ex-Death Eater. Of course he makes it out of the cave. Regulus sets out to destroy the Dark Lord's Horcrux with no one but a house-elf to help, until he realises his task is bigger than he alone can handle. Reluctantly he turns to the only man Voldemort fears for assistance - Dumbledore - who loans out his pet wolf for the job, much to Regulus's dismay. Together they embark on a hunt for Horcruxes - a long and arduous journey that both makes friendships and destroys them. And a few people get hurt along the way. Slowburn Wolfstar, Regulus character development, a very flirty (but platonic) Regulus and Remus friendship, and a canonically manipulative Dumbledore.

Where the Mist Falls by YumeNouveau

Rating: E, 30k words Remus loves being a deputy in the snowy mountain town of Greyback Peak. But when a crazy cult leader escapes in his woods and the FBI is called in, he's not about to just hand everything over to the stuffy know-it-all feds. That is, until he's confronted with silvery eyes, perfect cheekbones and a tailored suit that make his heart beat so loud it might start an avalanche.

Wish You Were Here by afieryfox

Rating M, 70k words Moony and Padfoot are both well-known online streamers that meet in an Among Us lobby organized by Lily. They instantly connect with their quick banter and similar interests, even with a whole ocean between them. Remus is alright with crushing on Sirius from afar. Until fans start shipping them and give them the name Wolfstar. Utterly ridiculous, of course. But why does Remus’ heart make a leap every time he thinks about it? And why, after countless hours on Discord calls, does he get the feeling that Sirius might feel the same?

Currents by lunchbucket

Rating: E, 109k words Remus Lupin and Sirius Black arrive in Sydney to compete in the Summer Olympics, both intent on making these games a better experience than the last. The two swimmers have a tumultuous history and intense rivalry, but can America’s golden boy and Great Britain’s notorious bad boy put their past behind them and find some common ground?

Where There Is Smoke by moongnome

Rating: not rated (oficially but it's actually E), 109k words "If he closed his eyes, he could have been there again, back in the cold river, water rising up to his shoulders, with a beautiful boy who wouldn’t leave him alone." It is 1865. Stuck in his house with his overbearing parents, Remus Lupin cannot shake the feeling that he's missing something. Returning from abroad after the death of his mother, Sirius Black is now the owner of a massive estate and he has the attitude to match. He has everything, including people who are determined to take everything from him. It takes seconds for Remus to know he will never hate anyone as much as he does Sirius Black.

The Homecoming of Sirius Black by lunarlivs, MissAmericanBi

Rating: E, 44k Sirius Black is burned the fuck out. From his high-pressure job, his unfulfilling love life, the concept of existence in general... you get the idea. With what used to be his life now just a smoldering pile of vaguely millennial-shaped wreckage drifting somewhere over the Manhattan skyline, Sirius leaves New York and moves home to Slytherin, Georgia—a wealthy suburb outside Atlanta—in an attempt to figure out what he is really doing in this prison of a meatsuit people call a body. Enter: a smoking hot bartender with big hands, amber eyes, and a stubbornly hardened exterior Sirius is determined to crack.* But with the passing of each month, Sirius starts to see that leaving a place doesn't mean forgetting the loss, returning to family doesn't mean coming home, and while love isn't found at the bottom of a pint glass—he may be the one pouring it.

How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky

Rating: M 43k words After two years of noncommittal sex: Remus tells Sirius that he loves him. Sirius firmly rejects him. Remus tries to move on. Sirius is not happy. OR Remus Lupin becomes king of the cockroaches, Fabian Prewett writes a book, Gilderoy Lockhart is a catfish, and Sirius Black realizes he's a fucking idiot.

Maybe this time is different (I really think you like me) by fiddleleafedfig

Rating: E, 73k words “Because you’re not just writing about Picasso, Sirius. Remus Lupin is a writer and an introvert, he has published a few novels that have been very well received. We want the story of it all, the family estate, his writing process, the decision to display these sketches now.” “And what on god's green earth makes me the best man for that job?” “Because you’re charming, we think he’ll like you.” * Or; The story of how Sirius Black gets a writing assignment, banters his way into the art-elite of London, and ends up falling head over heels in love.

Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing

Rating: E, 44k words Summer, 1999. Harry comes home with news. Quite a lot of news. Harry takes a deep breath. “I'm quitting the Aurors,” he starts with, which is followed by a moment of stunned silence. “What?” Sirius says. “All right," Remus says. “Do you know what else you want to do? Did you think about it?” Harry blushes, the way James used to—a rosy glow lighting up his brown skin—and says, “I wanted to—that is, I thought I might be a teacher.” Remus, quite suddenly, seems to have something in his eye. "Oh." “What?” Sirius says. “And uh—there's more. I was thinking I might like to. That is. I want to become an Animagus.”

Lines by Krethes

Rating: E, 24k words "As if feeling Sirius’s eyes on him -- and maybe he does, Remus just Knows Things sometimes -- he looks over his shoulder with eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy. “We’re far too old to be having morning sex and you know it, Padfoot,” he warns, his voice still gravely and deep from slumber." OR: DILF Wolfstar getting the happy ending they deserve. Chapters are chronological, but it's largely PWP and we're just here to have some fun.

No Expectations by thisbluepeony

Rating: M, 98k words Remus Lupin is a little-known music journalist working on a little-known music magazine. Blue Stag are his next Big Project - well, his first anyway.

Ever Thus by WrappedUp

Rating: E, 135k words “Right, well I’d say it’s about time to put an end to this nonsense, wouldn’t you?” James nodded sagely. “You’ve obviously still got some things to chat through with him, but he will talk to you about it, Remus. He thinks the world of you, you know that. But the important thing is that you do talk because nothing’s going to get sorted if you just sit cry-wanking in your room.” The world is excruciating and enthralling in equal measure. The gang try their hardest to navigate it as real, legitimate adults.

Language Lessons by MsAlexWP

Rating: E, 150k words September 1982 The war is over. Voldemort was defeated on October 31, 1981. Regulus Black discovered Voldemort’s horcruxes and informed the Order of the Phoenix, which destroyed them. When Voldemort arrived on Halloween to kill baby Harry, the Order was standing by, ready to kill him first. Almost a year later, the Marauders and their friends are rebuilding their lives. Everything is going well for Sirius Black. Everything but love. OR Sirius Black is great at sex but shit at relationships. Remus Lupin is an amazing boyfriend, but not so great at sex. Could these best friends learn from each other? Platonically, of course.

Hurling Crowbirds at Mockingbars by WrappedUp

Rating: M, 41k words “He’s coming home, James. What the hell am I meant to do with that? It’s been eight fucking years and we’re meant to... what? Just meet him at the pub? Buy him a drink like-” He shakes his head. “What will I do with my face?” James takes a sip of lemonade, taking his role as designated driver very seriously as always. He has a smudge of dirt on his nose from ‘wrestling a conifer the size of a bear’, but Sirius doesn’t think to mention it because he’s somewhat preoccupied with his own problems, which, for the avoidance of doubt, are many and insurmountable. “Your face?” “Yes, exactly! It’ll give me away the second he sees me. He’ll know right away that eight bloody years has done nothing at all to dampen it down. Dripping with hurt. As if I don’t still feel-”

One-shots:

Babysitting by A_factorygirl_69

Rating: E, 5,5k words Sirius and Teddy's excellent adventure, or why Remus is a master manipulator.

No Reckoning Made by A_factorygirl_69

Rating: E, 22k words Trying to remain friends but also wanting more while in the middle of a war is far more difficult than Remus ever imagined. Sirius certainly isn't making it easier on him either.

Secrets in the Black of night by TracingPatterns

Rating: E, 6k words It all starts when Remus is paired with Sirius fucking Black in Potions, but Remus didn’t think this was where they would end up.

Buy the Stars by wilteddaisy (taotu)

Rating: E, 23k words Sirius Black, respectable pureblood patriarch and heir to the Black family fortune, has a wife and three children at Hogwarts. Defence Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin wrestles with the aging wolf inside of him. When Black offers him a hand, Remus reluctantly takes it.

Nosebleed by WrappedUp

Rating: T, 8k words “I can’t have a threesome, Lily. I do puzzles for fun. I drink Ovaltine. I have a mug that says ‘I heart spreadsheets’. And it wasn’t even a present; I went out and bought it for myself because I really do. I heart spreadsheets.”

That Old Black Magic by fallovermelikestars

Rating: M, 37k words AU in which Remus, being as he is a werewolf and all, is homeschooled til he is 16. Hogwarts is something of an experience, not least because there's this boy called Sirius Black.

illicit affairs by dykesiriusblack

Rating: E, 8k words They shouldn't. But they do.

The Power Of The Dog by Suchsmallhands

Rating: E, 71k words Sirius thought he left the Black family behind but he is forced to face them once again when charged with the death of his mother. Who do you think will be his defender?

you jump, I jump by grumposaur

Rating: M, 17k words When Remus witnesses a disturbing event walking home one night, it sends him down a twisted path of many discoveries: secret societies, macabre rituals, cloaked figures, and a dark-haired boy who proves to be the most dangerous of all.

Satellites by jennandblitz

Rating: E, 23k words Sirius Black is the guitarist for Starsign, a band on a meteoric rise to fame. One evening in Edinburgh and he finds himself face to face with Remus Lupin, gig photographer an in almost-criminally oversized punk shirt. Perhaps things aren't meant to be at first, but the universe has its ways…

After us, the flood by aryastark_valarmorghulis, bloodsuitsandtears

Rating: E, 10k words “I was hoping you might be waiting for me.” His tone is light and friendly, but Remus isn’t fooled. “I stopped for a smoke.” He wonders, though. Was he unwittingly waiting for Sirius? In the last eight years, there had been countless smoke breaks, quick trips to grab another wine bottle and rendezvous to decide James’ birthday gift that dissolved into a sloppy snog or a quickie. It didn't happen every time Sirius was back in the country, but it was close enough.

bookends by drowsyanddazed

Rating: E, 12k It’s 1995 and the only flat in London that Remus Lupin can afford is one that’s falling apart and riddled with curses. When the curse-breaker comes in to survey the place, it’s Sirius Black who shows up at his door. On Remus’ doorstep, in 1995, they go through introductions. But they knew each other in 1982, back at university, they knew each other quite well, so why are they pretending they don’t have history? He’s not quite sure what’s going on between them, what they’re doing, what this tightrope they’re walking is. He’s not sure it’s a good idea.

Love, Trust and Other Wartime Casualties by BellaBabe

Rating: M, 8k words “Full moon?” Sirius asks, realizing he doesn’t actually know. Remus looks at him oddly. “You know you were always the most attentive. James was too carefree, too unburdened and Peter too forgetful… but you, you always knew.” It’s a well placed blow and it leaves Sirius breathless. “Things change I guess.” Remus says softly. “I’m here now.” Sirius can taste the lie on his tongue. Remus hums noncommittally and pours them more tea.

Lie With Me by mblematic

Rating: M, 12k words Sirius meets Remus unexpectedly, in somebody else's body. Nobody trusts anybody.

Elucidation Practice by montparnasse

Rating: M, 21k Christmas, 1978. Remus, wrestling with the mighty problems of gift-giving on a budget, contemplates life, love, London in winter, and falling off the edge of the world with Sirius Black.

Don't Make Me Beg For You (Because I'll Beg For You) by CuriousMay

Rating: E, 14k words Sirius' head jerks round, eyes wide with shock. Remus is still speaking but all Sirius can hear now is white noise. He stares at Remus, who is carefully constructing his chicken sandwich as he talks, seemingly unaware of the conversational grenade he's just launched into the room. "What?" "You know, Rita Schaffer? She was that 4th year who had that incident with Bleatchley's Beauty Bleach in '75 just after our exams and Madam Pomfrey had to regrow all her hair-" Remus starts as he puts down the tomato but Sirius cuts him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "No, not that, you idiot. The other bit. You said - you said you're in love with me?"

Horoscopes and how they caused the Plague of Frogs by Woldy

Rating: E, 6k words This is the story of the most improbable job Remus ever had, the Chocolate Frog Plague of 1980 and, incidentally, how he first kissed Sirius.

A Series of Sketches Done in Black Ink by mustntgetmy

Rating: E, 57k words Non-magic AU. Sirius had always imagined the aftermath of falling in love would mean lightness, and an escape from all the horrors of his childhood. But the past never leaves, and even love can't stop bad memories from resurfacing. An almost year in the life of Sirius and Remus's first year as a couple replete with art and tangled sheets, and containing the following: filled sketchbook pages from people lost and people found, terrible biscuits from an excellent therapist, mismatched music records, expensive hot chocolate, a lost brother, photographs (some invasive and some invoking terrible memories), a reckoning with the past, a promise of the future, and yet another ridiculously over the top Halloween party.

Within White Space by mustntgetmy

Rating: T, 9k words Non-magic AU. Remus spends his all his lunch breaks the same way: he sits at the university cafe, orders the cheapest thing on the menu, and stares at Sirius. Getting a good long, look at Sirius (and fantasizing about said look) is all Remus expects from Sirius. But Sirius has never been one for fulfilling expectations.

Black Glass by estas_absentis

Rating: E, 4k words Remus already holds Sirius’ heart in his hands, carries it with him through the world, could crush it if he chose. Why not his mind, his self, too?

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