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juststoriesintheend · 6 months ago

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I. Twin

Chapter Pairing: referenced Master Sol x f!Reader + Osha Aniseya x f!Reader

Chapter Content: amnesia/memory loss, reference to canonical character deaths, grief/mourning

Word Count: 2,638

《 [series masterlist] 》《 II 》《 III 》《 IV 》《 V 》

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I have asked you here.”

Master Vernestra is nothing if not perceptive. Indeed, you’ve been wondering since you first received your summons why your presence is needed in a place like this. The tower is outside of the Temple itself, but only just; it’s half a klik away and still maintained under Jedi purview, but reserved for more political matters like senatorial visits and official meetings with the Chancellor. That’s Master Vernestra’s realm, not yours.

When you do finally nod your agreement with the statement, she exhales lightly, an agreement of her own. Or perhaps it’s more of a reluctant admittance. “I know that things have been difficult since the passing of your Master, and of the others on Khofar.” As if summoned by the words themselves, tears spring up in the corners of your eyes. “And that Sol’s actions in particular have caused you great pain.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. That’s the greatest understatement you’ve ever heard in your life.

“I have lost both my Master and my Padawans,” she continues, having paused for a moment when you began sniffling. Her eyes aren’t fully able to reach yours, but her voice is raw in a way that deeply contrasts the prim and proper persona she puts on display for you. “And it is not an easy thing to bear. Grief has a way of stripping us down to our basest of instincts, even as Jedi. I worry that with your friends and Master now gone, you will lose yourself to that grief.”

You suppose you should be offended. Or flattered, maybe, to know that someone as important to the Order as Master Vernestra cares enough for your well being to notice you slipping. But you don’t have it in you to feel either. All you feel is… empty. Alone. Lost with no one left to find you.

Somewhere in the abyss of that agony, though, you manage to find your voice. “Is this because of the other day?” Slices of memory flood your inner vision, of the broken incense pot and Master Vernestra rushing in to soothe you, of your screams, of the cracks in your heart.

“Partially. But not for the reason I suspect you think.” She reaches across the table then and places her hand atop yours, hesitant yet comforting in her own way. “I would like to help you.”

Guilt and shame and the tragic weight of your grief all sag upon your shoulders, and you’re not sure if you want to run, cry, or vomit. Because you’re a Knight, you’re the latest in a great lineage of Jedi, and you should be better than this. You should be glad that your loved ones have rejoined the Force, that they are free from pain and anger and all the troubles of the galaxy, but instead you’re adrift in your own sorrow, drowning in it. You’re grieving all of the love that you’ve lost, all the open-ended things you left unsaid with Osha and the shattered dreams of a life with Sol. You don’t deserve to be helped.

You snatch your hand away, as if the touch of another Jedi is so offensive to you that it burns. “Respectfully, Master, there’s nothing that can be done to help me. I’m not a very good Jedi. And I wasn’t a very good Padawan either. If there are others who need your help, you should be helping them, not… not me.”

The air in the room goes stale, and the speeders outside whizz terrifically fast past the tower windows, and you’re trying not to be sick all over Master Vernestra’s very nice throw rug when she speaks again.

“What happened on Savareen?”

Oh no. Oh no. Not this. Anything but this. Savareen is your greatest shame and your deepest failure. She can’t possibly ask this of you, not now.

“Nothing. I-I don’t want to talk about it.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, then the other. She knows something’s not right. “I have no intention of judging you,” she promises. “But you and Sol went there alone. Unauthorized. And when you returned, you withdrew yourself from your usual duties and locked yourself in your room. In light of his actions on Khofar and Brendok, I hope you can understand why I must ask you this.”

Fear and uncertainty cloud your mind as you try to play catch up with whatever game Vernestra seems to be playing. Savareen… it wasn’t Sol’s fault. Does she think it was? Does she think Savareen happened because Sol was pulling the strings on the whole affair? Your head hurts just trying to process the possibility of such a thing, let alone believing it. He would never, he couldn’t. Not even if he had killed all those people on Khofar. Or Indara. Or Kelnacca. Or Torbin.

You’re shaking your head to try and clear it of these incessantly spiraling thoughts, but all they do is cling to you. It isn’t Sol’s fault, you want to scream, it’s mine! I was the one who failed! But to say that aloud would be to admit that you gave in, you made the mistake. To speak it would be to admit that you stopped being a Jedi the moment you first knew you were in love with Sol, that your fate was sealed the moment you stepped on Savareen. And you cannot do that. You can’t admit any of that to someone like Vernestra. A Master, a Jedi, everything you’re not and can never be.

Yet when Master Vernestra looks at you, there’s a kindness in her eyes that threatens to tear you apart. She kneels before you, a vision in her gown of pure, sweet white, and she takes your hands, and she asks with all the gentleness in the world, “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” Not Sol, not once. You’re not even sure he’d know how.

“Are you certain?”

True to her word, there’s no real judgment in her voice. If anything, she sounds sad, or afraid. Or perhaps you’re only sensing your own emotions and hers are lost to the Force, too stable and strong for you to grasp in your despair.

“He didn’t… It wasn’t him, Master, it was me.” And you’re crying because it feels like you’re finally shedding your clothing - your cloak, your tabard, every little thing exists to remind you of the Order you’ve dedicated yourself to, the Order that you’ve betrayed. “I got sick a-and Osha was there to save me, but the cost…”

The cost of your life was your heart, and then your soul. Now they’ve both been ripped from you, one flung to the farthest reaches of the galaxy and the other burnt atop a funeral pyre.

“You and Osha were very close once, weren’t you?”

Your head bobs sadly. “When we were Padawans. She was my friend.” One of your only friends, at that.

Master Vernestra’s breath catches in her throat, and when you find the courage to meet the piercing weight of her gaze, you find that she has the same haunted expression she wore when she first told you of the Khofar mission. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone at the bottom of a lake. You don’t even dare to ask, but…

“Master? What is it?”

She withdraws and is back on her feet in an instant, and whatever softness you thought you saw in her feels far away and cold. The outer layer of her dress trails behind her. It snags on the leg of her desk as she passes. For some reason, that makes you even sadder. It’s like everyone in the galaxy is as miserable as you are, even the most obscure of inanimate objects.

Maybe you should rest.

The question she poses to you is enough to make you reconsider.

“What if I told you that there was a way to find her again?”

You’re not entirely sure you understand. The story you’d been told was that Osha went missing on Brendok, that there was nothing left behind for a tracker to trace.

“It was the discovery that her sister was still alive that sent Osha to Savareen.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but why is she saying it when she’s aware you already know this? “I believe we can find Osha if we work with her sister.”

Confusion dries your tears. “But I thought…” You’re not entirely sure what you thought had happened to Mae Aniseya, but your mind had formed some vague idea of her being killed on Khofar or Brendok, or of her disappearing into the ether like her sister. “Master, I don’t understand-”

“Mae is alive. She’s here on Coruscant, and I would like you to work with her.”

Memory is a funny thing. Time erases the edges bit by bit until only the vague idea of a thing remains, but there are some things, some memories that can’t be fully erased. When you look at Mae, you’re reminded of the young girl you once knew, of Osha’s first months on Coruscant. She was eight and terrified out of her mind, and you were thirteen and struggling to adapt to life as a Padawan. Now you’re sixteen years older, alone and afraid all over again, and you find yourself looking into those same eyes. You can’t help feeling haunted.

But for all their similarities, Mae is startlingly distinct from her sister. It’s not just the spiral of white dotted into her skin or the timid softness of her voice, but the way she moves, the fear that’s stitched into her bones, the uncertainty, the pain. She wears it so differently than Osha ever did, like it’s a garment she clings to in the bitter cold.

“Master Rwoh said that you can stay here with me, if you choose.”

You’d thought initially that Mae would be forced to spend her time on Coruscant in prison, and it broke your heart to picture such a thing, but with the… truth about Sol finally coming to light, her name has been cleared of all her previous crimes. And with you and Master Rwoh close by to watch over her, it seemed the logical solution. But you hadn’t considered just how jarring it would be to see the spitting image of your childhood friend, your lover standing in your room as nothing more than a stranger.

Mae’s head tilts in your direction. “Master Rwoh?” she repeats slowly. Force, she looks so small, so uncertain and scared. “You mean… Miss Vernestra?”

“Yes. Um, you don’t have to stay here, not if you don’t want to, but I’d be happy to-...” The words catch in your throat, tangled in your grief. Because you still see Osha’s ghost in her eyes. “Sorry. I, uh, I just meant that… you’re always welcome here. If you need anything.”

Several awful seconds tick by, heavy with the weight of Mae’s silence and your frantic heart, but she does eventually speak. “You knew my sister.”

The fabric of reality tears down the middle and you suddenly recall the morning after Savareen, waking up in Osha’s arms, the smell of sea air and sex on her skin. You remember her groggy, early morning smile, and the pang of affection behind your sternum, and you have to close your eyes to fight the memory back into the confines of the past.

“Yes, I knew her.”

“What was she like?”

Your eyes fly open. “You don’t remember?”

Her voice dips lower, even as she turns away from you. “I don’t remember anything, just… fire. And a tree…” She shakes her head. “The Jedi, Miss Vernestra, said her name was Osha.”

You can’t imagine the turmoil inside this girl’s head. To have lost everything and everyone, to be so alone in the galaxy. It must have been what Osha felt like all those years ago, yet somehow this feels worse. It feels like it’s your fault somehow, your responsibility, but you have no idea where to start making things better, or how.

Until something catches your eye.

“Would you like to see her?”

Mae’s entire face wrinkles into a frown. “How?”

On the table, backed into the corner of the room, is a bit of clutter. Some old flimsi tomes you borrowed from the Archive, the half eaten remains of your breakfast, the broken pieces of your incense pot, and a holo. You’d thought about chucking it after Osha left the first time, worried that reminiscing would lead to attachment, and you’d fall fast and hard to the Dark Side, but Sol had encouraged you to keep it.

His voice comes to you now, clear as a bell. If we don’t meditate on the past, we are doomed to repeat it. He’d grown fond of saying it after Osha left.

Your cheeks are wet, you realize, as you take the holo in hand and watch it repeat a few times. It’s from the day after you passed your Trials. Osha was still young, just fifteen, and you were the oldest of your peers to graduate, but it had been one of the best moments of your life. Here, Osha’s squishing her face against yours, her face wide open in a bubbly scream-laugh that you can still remember. You’re holding the holocam at an awkward angle, but you’re beaming and holding up the freshly cut end of your Padawan braid.

“This was the year I became a Jedi Knight,” you explain as you pass the holo to Mae. “Osha helped me celebrate.”

Mae’s crying now too, but her tears are softer, more restrained. It’s the most like her sister she’s ever looked. Her fingers trace Osha’s side of the holo as she blinks frantically against the onslaught. “She’s so beautiful.”

Laughter bubbles out of you until you hiccup. “Yeah. Yeah, she was.” You’re not acting like the Jedi you know you are, you’re not giving Mae a good role model to look up to, but you can’t help it. You miss her.

“I wish I remembered her.”

You wish she did too.

“Will you tell me about her?” And she looks up at you with those big, endless, watery eyes and you’re gone. She could ask you to jump from the tallest spire on Coruscant and you would do it. Because she is Osha’s blood and bone, and you would do anything for her.

“Of course. What do you want to know?”

Mae hugs the holo to her chest with a sniffle. “What was she like?”

She was like the stars themselves, you think. She was everything. You just didn’t realize it until it was too late.

When he thinks of rebirth, he thinks of fire. He doesn’t know why. When he thinks of rebirth, he thinks of a forest and of heat, and he doesn’t know why. There isn’t much he does know, but he tries to count it all in his head.

He knows that the planet he stands on now is called Puyo, a lone planet in an empty star system in the Outer Rim. He sort of understands what the Outer Rim is, but only vaguely. He knows that his body hurts and that his throat burns whenever he tries to speak. He knows that he has two hands, two arms, two legs, and two feet. He learned only yesterday that he could grow hair on his face. That’s five things.

Then he remembers the woman who saved his life. Her face is vague in his memory, but he remembers that she was kind. She had told him something before she left, something very important that he can only recall if he focuses very long and very hard. She told him that he had a name.

He thinks that name was Sol.

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#master sol x reader #osha aniseya x reader #master sol #osha aniseya #the acolyte #star wars #x reader #verosha aniseya x reader #verosha aniseya

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fablesuntold · 4 months ago

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@musingmemories

Bickering. If there was one thing Jim Hopper had learned about Joyce over the years, it was that the woman had a fiery temper— able to match verbal punches with a sharpened tongue and equally sharpened quips at the ready. It was no wonder his captors hadn’t stood a chance against her, no doubt waltzing through in the prison like the most ferocious whirlwind they’d ever seen— rivalling the blizzards of the merciless Russian snow almost effortlessly. Joyce Byers was a force to be reckoned with. The most unstable, chaotic individual he had ever had the displeasure of meeting.. and yet, every single night before he’d passed out in agony in his icy cold cell, it was her face he sought out last.. clutching dearly to the memory of her like she was his very lifeline. Her and El both.

And now here she was. Scolding— cutting him off with her mad tangents by jumping to conclusions as per usual.. just as much as a loose canon as he remembered her to be. Oh how he’d missed this, not that he would ever give her the satisfaction of letting her know.

“Joyce, can you just—!?” Was she ever going to let him get a word in edgeways? “Stop talking for a goddamn minute and let me get a word in, woman!” His attempts were futile, Hopper knew it before he’d even began his protests. Once she got herself all worked up like this, there was no stopping her until she was ready to snap out of her tantrum. “JOYCE!” Raising his voice one final time through gritted teeth in hopes to finally silence her, it seemed to have done the trick.. for all but a solid second before she was piping up again, her next words admittedly catching him off guard and causing his own expression to soften.

‘I lost you once before. I had to know if you were still alive.’

Thinning his lips into a straight line, Hopper took a step towards her, guilt weighing heavy in his chest as he stared down at her smaller frame. “Are you done?” Asked barely above a whisper, a bruised crested hand reached out to trace the outline of her jaw. She really was here. “If you’d let me finish my sentence, you would’ve found out that what I was going to say is that I’m glad you’re here anyway.” Practically huffing out those words, Hopper exhaled an irritated sigh and shook his head at her. “You are the most stubborn, craziest woman I’ve ever met.. and you drive me insane. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time we were apart.” They had unfinished business, her and him. Business they’d purposely been avoiding for years, along with the awkward tension that came with their back and forth.

But now, after so many scares and near death experiences? Could they really go on dancing around those feelings and pretending they weren’t mutual? “..Thank you, Joyce.” And with that said, Hopper wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her against his chest in a tight embrace.

@fablesuntold sent: ❝ 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗”, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. ❞ 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐉𝐨𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡.

Don’t. If there was one word in the English dictionary that didn’t exist in Joyce Byers’ vocabulary it was that one. Since she was little, being told what she shouldn’t do had never sat well with her. Don’t drink. Don’t smoke. Don’t do drugs. … okay maybe those weren’t prime examples, but being told don’t raise two boys all by yourself? That had Joyce’s fight mode activate, hissing like a feral cat glowering the looks away anytime the three of them were together, hellbent on meeting judgement with attitude. So when her son went missing and no one took her seriously and told her don’t act, just wait… Constantly questioning why? she charged ahead until she got an answer. Again and again and again, resulting in Will’s rescues while simultaneously unraveling government conspiracy theories and killing monsters. Because she couldn’t sit still, and Joyce didn’t regret any moment of it.

Along the way, a constant warning she received was don’t do anything without me [Hopper] first. Now that one was a pain in the ass in Joyce’s books— the impatience of waiting. Maybe if someone Hopper gave her a gun from the very beginning she’d do a lot better than having to be a damsel in distress or benched while waiting for an outcome. But when there was a chance to rescuing a still alive Hopper? After all the times he’d saved her life? There was absolutely no question about it. She did so. Successfully. And here they were waiting for the coast to be clear… assuming they’d make up for lost time and catch up… only for her to receive a classic Jim Hopper lecture. Worry amplified by relief turned into frustration.

“Don’t do what ever again, Hop? Exactly what you told me to? Like with the stupid car? ‘Try again, Joyce. Turn the key, Joyce. Try again, Joyce.’ Need I remind you it was Alexei that saved your goddamn life. Our lives! Because no thanks to you I would’ve been blown up in that damn car and wouldn’t be here to save you!” Example one out of oh so many, Joyce had the next string of scolds ready in her arsenal to scream at him in a single breath. “And if I hadn’t come all this way to fucking Russia, you’d probably be dead by now! But do I ever get a thank you, Joyce!? No! It’s always don’t do that again. So you know what? I would! I’d do it again every goddamn time because…” She’d hit that point of emotional vulnerability, slammed against that spot in her throat that made her want to scream and cry, memory relentlessly playing when she watched— or swore she watched— Hopper crumbled to dust. “I lost you once before. I had to know if you were still alive, Hop.”

#musingmemories #muse : jim hopper ⭐️#stranger things roleplay #stranger things rp #BICKERING IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE 🥺💀

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 4 years ago

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Camila Noceda and Flawed Parenting

A perspective by a flawed person with loving but extremely flawed parents

I’m genuinely baffled at some people’s hostile reaction towards Camila. Like… do any of you have flawless parents that always know the best solution instantly, make no mistakes and never get emotional?

My parents are great. They’re super supportive and I love them very, very much. Overall I think I got very lucky in the parents department.

But god, they are far from flawless. I still live at home, and despite all the good, there’s moments when I can’t take my dad anymore. He’s the kind of dad that stayed up until two am to help me with homework when I was in school, and he does so, so many things to make sure I’m happy. I know that. But despite all of this, I have told my mom in emotional moments before that I’m not sure if I can keep living with him, because for all his good sides, he has a couple of fatal flaws that sometimes make him unbearable.

My mom listens to me and is very open to being educated on certain topics, but she has her flaws, too. She hates when I fight with my dad, and gets so torn up about it that I’ve once apologized to my dad out of fear of her getting into a car crash otherwise. She’s very vocal about certain flaws of mine, and sometimes uses the things she does for me as leverage against me when she gets very emotional.

And both of my parents pay a lot more attention to my brother because he needs it more, because he’s more of a “problem child” while I “seem so capable” even when I’m not.

And guess what? I’m not a perfect child. I make mistakes sometimes, some of them pretty severe. Just like Luz, I’m the kind of person that struggles to communicate certain issues of mine to her parents. I’m stubborn, and when I get emotional, I say very hurtful things sometimes. So do they.

And this has nothing to do with my parents being horrible or abusive. They’re neither of those things.

The takeaway from this should not be that my entire family is made up of terrible people, but that we’re all flawed in our own ways, despite loving each other and trying our best. There’s things about my parents I wish I could change, and there are things about me that my parents wish they could change. And to an extent, that’s perfectly normal.

In our strengths and flaws and frustration with each other, we’re all human.

Specific, spoiler-y Camila and Luz things under the cut since this got very long.

We have no indication that Camila has a pattern of emotionally manipulating Luz. Her “emotional manipulation” as I’ve seen some people put it, is people for some reason thinking that the second you become an adult, you’re suddenly perfect and can no longer make mistakes, lest you’ll be dubbed horrible and abusive.

The whole concept is absurd to me. There is no perfect way to parent. There simply isn’t. Of course, there’s some genuinely abusive patterns that are horrible and inexcusable. But out of the parenting styles that aren’t, which one works depends on a number of factors, one of which absolutely includes that every child is different and has different needs. Camila is an amazing parent for Vee, giving the kid everything she’s ever longed for. She’s not an ideal parent for Luz. And that’s because Luz and Vee have fundamentally different needs.

Likewise, Luz is a pretty great child for Eda, but not a perfect fit for Camila. Luz relates to Eda a lot more than she relates to her mom, and that’s why the two of them have an easier time understanding each other. Both of these mother-child relationships exist, and one is not more doomed to fail than the other, but I think you’ll agree that the better you understand someone and where they’re coming from, the easier it is to communicate, pick up on certain signs, etc.

As mom and daughter, Camila and Luz are both flawed and have issues seeing the other’s perspective because of how different they are. And we should simultaneously acknowledge both of their roles in the issue and give both of them the space to learn and grow past those issues.

Luz struggles to communicate her problems. She doesn’t want to burden people in the demon realm, and it’s a given that this started out as not wanting to burden her mom. So she keeps quiet about her issues. Camila tries hard but can’t read her daughter’s mind, so there’s only so much she can do to understand and help the way Luz needs her to. Hell, Eda, who Luz is a lot more open with than her mom, struggles to help her, because Luz doesn’t tell her what’s wrong. I don’t see anyone calling Eda a terrible mom for that.

Camila tries her best, but she struggles to understand her daughter because of this, and because of how fundamentally different they are. She loves Luz’s creativity, we actively see her supporting it in the new episode—she keeps the weird stuff Luz made because she thinks Luz will regret throwing it away, and even plays along in what she assumes to be some elaborate role play because “she’s glad Luz kept her creativity even though it’s not made things easy for her at school”. But at the beginning of the show, said creativity got out of hand and people got hurt. Luz could’ve gotten hurt. So of course Camila had to interfere. I love Luz dearly, but she thought it was okay to bring snakes to school and set off fireworks inside a school building. Creativity is great. Doing reckless stuff that causes people to get hurt is not.

In sending Luz to camp, Camila tried to have someone else fix her issue because she didn’t know how to help Luz. That was a mistake, and a bad one at that, but she’s realizing that. She looks disheartened when Vee tries to throw out Luz’s stuff, because she never meant to change her daughter or take that part of her away. She just thought Luz needed a reality check—which, for the record, is something the narrative actually agrees with.

Luz spends her time in the demon realm getting reality check after reality check, realizing that even her ideal fantasy world where she has everything she always wanted doesn’t mean she’s free of consequences. She goes overboard constantly, causing:

-Eda to be forced to fly into a trap because Luz is chasing a fantasy (Witches before Wizards)

-Eda to almost be branded by her sister because Luz doesn’t think through why Eda doesn’t use magic to publicly announce her presence constantly (Once Upon a Swap)

-Eda and the twins to get kidnapped by a Slitherbeast because Luz stole Amity’s wand (Adventures in the Elements)

-Her friends to get hurt when she goes overboard trying to help Willow (Wing it like Witches)

-Eda to be captured and almost petrified because Luz thought she could just steal from the Emperor with no consequences in an attempt to help (Agony of a Witch)

I’m like 90% sure these aren’t even all. None of those make her a terrible person, for the record, but as all humans are, she is flawed and makes bad choices. She learns from these experiences and matures, just like her mom had hoped she would at camp. She’s also made friends there, which was another thing Camila wanted for her daughter.

You’ll probably realize that a lot of Luz’s behaviors I mentioned follow one of two patterns: 1. Luz’s idealized fantasy world causing problems, when she walks around with rose tinted glasses and gets people in trouble in the process because she hasn’t thought about the consequences, and 2. Luz trying to help someone she loves, but instead making things worse in the progress. The issue with this one is often that she doesn’t communicate her ideas/listen to the people she’s trying to help—like when Willow and Gus said they’ve had enough of Grudgby, or how she never actually talks to Eda about the healing hat idea before doing something reckless.

…does the latter one sound familiar to you at all? No? Because it’s the exact same thing that Camila did.

Some of the things Luz does are reckless and actively endanger others and herself, and that’s something that I think we need to acknowledge before judging Camila. As Luz’s mom, it’s Camila’s job to interfere in those situations. That she made a mistake while trying to protect Luz doesn’t make her a terrible person, especially as, again, the narrative proves her right to an extent.

I’m not saying her making Luz promise to come back and stay isn’t something that hurt Luz—it absolutely is. But it was born out of desperation. She’s emotional and in shock. She’s so full of pain and regret. She just wants her fourteen year old daughter home safe, and there’s nothing abusive or even morally ambiguous about that.

From Luz’s perspective, what she says is absolutely heartbreaking, but from Camila’s, it’s perfectly reasonable. I doubt Camila has the full picture, but even if she does, she’s had a full fifteen seconds to process that her daughter has not only been lying to her for months, but chose to leave her, and is in the demon realm of all places. Of course she’d be emotional and upset about that! Who wouldn’t? Camila isn’t a robot. If she’d been calm about this I’d be way more concerned, honestly.

My parents don’t get mad that easily, but if I would lie to them for weeks on end, they’d be pissed off too, not even taking the running away from home part into account. That’s a normal thing. People don’t like being lied to. Camila is absolutely devastated in that moment because she’s scared that Luz left because she hates her, when Luz actively states that her leaving wasn’t about her mom—which is another thing we should really be acknowledging.

Abusive parents suck and abuse should obviously never be apologized or trivialized, but saying something hurtful in the heat of the moment isn’t the same thing as being an abusive parent. My parents have done this. I’ve done this. And yes, those things can be emotionally manipulative, but there’s a huge difference in whether that’s a habit or a person speaking out of hurt and desperation in a very specific context. I doubt there’s anyone on the entire planet that hasn’t had a bad moment where they’ve said something like this because they were hurting. People lash out when they hurt, and they beg for reassurance when they’re scared. That’s something we all do.

The whole mindset of “all parents have to be perfect and can never get upset or make any mistakes” is harmful as hell, and honestly also very unrealistic. No parent is perfect, and especially people like me who have a relationship with their parents that’s very good overall should know that.

Once you have a child, parenting is a non-stop learning process, every day for the rest of your life. Taking away that room to grow and expecting perfection isn’t helping anyone, especially not struggling single parents.

And I see Camila as someone who is very willing to learn, because at the end of the day, all she wants is for Luz to be happy. Let’s give her some time to wrap her head around this whole situation. Let’s see what she says once she sees for herself how happy Luz is in that world, may it be via the videos eventually coming through or Camila visiting and meeting Luz’s found family, her friends and her girlfriend.

Ultimately, I don’t think Camila will force Luz to stay at home, but we have to give her some time. She wants what’s best for Luz, and she’s gonna need some convincing that a dangerous magical world is what’s best. I feel like that’s very normal considering the circumstances.

Her and Luz need to work on their communication on both ends, they both have things to learn, but I’m certain they’ll manage to fix their relationship in the long run.

If the bunk bed is any indication, I think Vee is gonna stay in the human realm permanently while Luz sleeps at home but keeps attending Hexside in the daytime. That feels like a solution that keeps everyone happy, and allows Luz to spend time with all the people she loves. I can’t see her being forced to choose at the end.

As a closing statement: Eda isn’t an ideal mom, Amity isn’t an ideal friend or girlfriend and neither is Luz, Lilith isn’t an ideal sister… but that’s because no one is ever an ideal anything. Being flawed is a big part of being human. Everyone has different facets to their personality. Their flaws are what makes them such great, relatable, believable characters.

And I feel the same way about Camila. She’s an extremely believable character that reminds me of my own parents, flawed but very loving nonetheless.

(Also honestly, I think it’s pretty telling that some of you guys immediately bash the black single mom that’s obviously trying her hardest while giving the benefit of the doubt to Alador, who has been portrayed as neglecting and threatened his six year old daughter on screen. This was already a thing before we knew much about either of them, and I’m disappointed but unfortunately not very surprised that it still is.)

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

Note

your noe thing was so cuuutee!! such a precious puppy! ☺ c-can I request something a littleless innocent? 👉👈 that scene really got me too and I’d like to see noe x reader biting lead to a little more?butonlyifyouwantto!

Glad you liked it!! And I may.....have gotten carried away.....#noesimp

tags: heterosexual sex, female reader, blood (vampire stuff), ‘get you a man who can do both’ noé, some fluff

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

It was official, Noé was avoiding you.

At first, you couldn’t be sure. Thinking it was just paranoia after your corruption, causing you to think the worst and see enemies everywhere. But, it was becoming clear that you were not making the situation up as the white-haired man seemed to all but run away any time you entered a room. Now you were certain it had to be you.

It made you feel all the worse about the situation. The hunter had become the hunted. How stupid could you have been to let the Charlatan get the jump on you in your pursuit of him and turn you into the thing you hated most. Luckily, your agony was short lived as Noé and Vanitas saved you soon after. But the memories of that awful time still haunted you.

And now they must be haunting Noé. That’s why he couldn’t be near you.

Like with Amelia, Vanitas suggested that Noé use his abilities to take a look into your mind to help paint a better picture of the Charlatan and get a pattern of his movements. You had been against it, but the ends justified the means. Noé took one bite of your wrist & your blood, and seemed to keel over from the taste of it.

After that, he wanted nothing to do with you. And it hurt, to be rejected.

You decided that things couldn’t go on like this. You had to make peace for the sake of hunting down the monster terrorizing your people and putting an end to the curse bearers. So, you went to his room that night and knocked on the door.

“[Y-Y/N]??”

“Can I come in?” You ask, hopefully. This needed to be discussed in private, but you were aware that he might shut the door in your face if you asked.

Thankfully, he was too much of a gentleman to do that, and let you in anyway.

“I wanted to talk about why you’ve been avoiding me.” Noé looked at you in surprise. Clearly he must have thought he was doing a good job of hiding his aversion toward you. The sweet fool. “Is this about the other day?” You asked. Noé didn’t say anything. Just a small grunt as he continued to look at the floor. “Is it my blood?” He flinched, small but noticeable. So, your fear had been realized.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have offered it to you.” Noé looked up. That soft, innocent look on his face making you feel even worse for what you and Vanitas had put him through. He wasn’t a tool. Or some projector to replay the tortured memories of people to find the Charlatan. He was a person.

“I know my blood is….tainted. Lord knows what being touched by the Charlatan has done to it. It probably of no use to anyone but me now. That’s why you can’t be around me now, isn’t it? Because my blood is so disgusting. Ugly…..”

“Don’t ever say that again!” Noé demanded. Suddenly in front of you and holding on to your shoulders as he looked into your eyes with an earnest gaze. “Do you have any idea what your blood tastes like? What it’s done to me?” His hands on your shoulders tighten slightly. Not to hurt. Just a bit more pressure to express how serious he was. “You are right. I can’t be around you. But it’s not for the reason you think. Your blood tastes….it’s like a falling star. Bright and powerful. It’s burning me up inside. It’s all that I want. Every moment all I can think about is wanting more. It’s torture to be near you. But I also don’t want to be away from you. I’ve become possessed by your blood. Do you understand?”

You stare up at Noé , mouth slightly jar. This was so….far of the mark of how this conversation was going to go. You never dreamed of it going like this, so you don’t know what to say. “I-I….So….You’ve been staying away from me….because you want my blood?”

“Yes.” Perhaps he was a little too quick off the mark with his answer. But Noé had no guile in him to lie or be coy. “And…maybe something more….” His earnest behavior falters a little, as he became shy & soft again as his cheeks tint. Those impassioned words a moment ago seeming to come from someone else, and your embarrassed to admit how enticing you find the contrast.

“Do you want my blood, Noé?” A soft sharp gasp escaped Noé as he looked up. A little wide eyed and fearful, but also with some hope there. “Do you want my blood, Noé?” You repeat. Reaching out to press your hand against his chest. Feeling his heart hammering there, even through his thick vest and shirt. “If you want it, then I’ll give it to you. You only have to ask.”

“Y-You don’t know what you’re saying.” He insisted. Looking down again.

“I do.” You insist back. “Ever since we met, I’ve always been…fond of you. You’re kind, and you’re honest, and….handsome.” It was your turn to blush now. “Then when you saved me, those feelings only grew stronger. So, if you want my blood, if you want me, you can have it, Noé. I’m all yours.”

The white-haired vampire lifted his head again. Only this time there weren’t bright amethysts staring back at you, but vibrant sunset rubies.

The hands still on your shoulders pull you close, flush against Noé’s broad chest, before he bites you. His arms wrapped around your body in a warm embrace. Your body growing hot as your blood flowed into his mouth for his enjoyment.

“You do it too.” A confused little sound, no louder than that of a mouse, met Noé at his stern words at your throat. You felt dizzy. Like you might swoon. “You do it too.” He repeated. Hands leaving you only for a moment to rip loose his tie and expose his neck. “Bite me too.”

Your world suddenly became crystal clear again, with a hyper focus on his neck. Now it was your turn from you heart to hammer in your chest. Not that it hadn’t been before. But it was a different kind of racing now. A hungry kind of racing. Like the excitement of finally being able to get everything you want kind of racing. You’d never seen anything so perfect in your life.

You immediately reach forward and bury your fangs into Noé’s offered neck. Vaguely hearing him let out a breathy gasp when you make contact. The blood that rushed into your mouth was warm, and not just because it had come fresh from a body. It tasted like spices. Sweet, warm spices. Like the kind all the bakers sold at Christmas and made the whole room smell like cinnamon, cloves, and honey. Warm honey coating your throat, and you felt like you might die if you didn't have this again. If you had the presence of mind, you think you might now understand what Noé was talking about. Why he tried to stay away.

You let out a sharp, sensual whimper, muffled against Noé’s throat, when his fangs set into again and drink. It’s an incredible feeling.

Noé pulling your blood from you while you pulled his blood from him in this crimson infinity circle was indescribable. You had never felt this way before. Then again you never felt this way about anyone but Noé before.

You whimper again when he pulled back from you, wanting this feeling to continue, and whine when he pulled you away from him by the back of your hair. Why would he take this away from you? Why would he be so cruel to when you loved him so much? All your questions were silenced when he crashed his lips into yours. It was messy, and bloody. It’s not at all like the kiss you had imagined him giving you, nor do you think your blood tasted that good, but you were drunk again on it. Dizzy, and feeling you might faint, and holding on to Noé as if your life depended on it.

There was another pull from Noé holding you close, and you feel your feet come off the ground. Only for a second, however, as your back crash landed on soft down and pillow top covers right after. “I’m sorry,” Noé said after pulling away from you. It’s hard to hear his apology over both your panting. “I didn’t mean to make assumptions. It’s inappropriate to just assume th–" Whatever else he had to say you weren’t interested in. The only thing his lips were of use for now was to kiss you.

He doesn’t seem to mind being cut off as he kissed you back passionately. You both fumble in tandem with getting your clothes off. There’s no way with the intricate fastenings of French couture that you’ll get them all off, but you can certainly make do.

You can get Noé’s vest & shirt off with minimal loss of buttons so you can finally touch his smooth chest.

He’s able to get the top of your blouse undone and expose all of your skin to the top of your breasts, because he can’t get your corset off.

And, more importantly, you’re able to undo his belt and open up his trousers, while he was able to hike up your skirts.

You let out a cry of ecstasy when Noé thrust into you. Gripping his shoulders as the hard, rough thrust breaks into you. “Sorry!” Noé apologized immediately. Mistaking your cry for one of pain. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking. We can stop if –” You cut him off again with another kiss, because again you weren’t interested in anything he had to say about that now.

You let him go after a moment and tell him against his moist lips, “don’t stop.”

In the darkness, you see his eyes shift to bright red again, and that was all the warning you had before he buried his face into the crook of your neck and was pounding into you like a mad man.

You cry out again. Loud moans, whimpers, the sound of his name. You never thought he’d be so rough, your sweet Noé, but you can’t say you weren’t enjoying it.

You can feel an orgasm building, but then felt suddenly pushed off the edge when Noé bore his fangs into your neck again. Taking you by surprise, and having your whole body tighten up in blissful pleasure as you called out his name.

“Ahh [Y/N], did that feel good?” You whimper at his sultry deep voice against your ear. Your pussy quaking at the sound. Seeming to want to cum again at just the sound of his voice. “I’m glad. You feel so good.” His tongue lapped over the two holes on your neck. He unknowingly seemed determined to make you cum again. “[Y/N] can I…? Inside you..?”

“Yes!” You tell him enthusiastically. Your eyes shifting as you bit into his neck again as well. Needing to feel him inside you in every way possible.

Noé cried out your name, as you had his, and his thrusts finally stop as he buried himself deep inside you. The warm feeling of his cum rushing past your lower lips, while his warm blood passed against your common ones, transporting you into a blissful state that you can only assume is nirvana.

Eventually, you let him go, and your warm dark-skinned lover collapsed on top of you. The two of you laid like that for a while. Recovering from spent energy and blood lost, in a haze of sex, rumbled clothes, and smell of copper. “Forgive me.”

You let out a soft ‘hn?’ at Noé’s words, and watch him as he sat up. “I knew I couldn’t control myself around you, yet I did it anyway and took advantage. I’m sorry.”

“Took advantage?” You ask. Does he not remember you pushing him to take the first bite? “I wasn’t exactly ‘complaining’ Noé. In case you missed it.”

The white-haired vampire huffed a little and pouted. “Still, this was very improper. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This wasn’t how our first time together should be.”

You smirk a little, despite yourself, at the unintentional confession that he had thought about it before too. Then, a thought. “This wasn’t….your first time, was it?” He was normally so naïve and innocent that now your feel as if you’ve taken advantage.

Noé shook his head. “No. I’ve made love once before.” He doesn’t have to say with who. You know it’s with Domi. “But it wasn’t like this.” You can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. Judging by his blush though, it couldn’t all be bad.

Noé shifted to lay down on top of you again. This time with his head on your chest. His long legs nearly hanging off the bed to make it happen. “Will you stay with me?” His request sounded so fragile for someone who had just been so passionate with you. “I know I’ve been bad, pushing you away. But…will you stay with me now?”

“Of course.” Despite yourself again, you chuckle a little at the request. How absurd it was for him to think you’d say no. It seemed to sooth him though, and Noé almost instantly feel asleep with you in his arms. You not far behind him as your marks heal in the dark.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#vanitas of the blue moon #vanitas no shuki #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #noe archiviste #noe archiviste x reader #mentions of #noe archiviste x domi #but brief #noe x reader #random fandom #imagine #scenarios #vanitas no carte imagine #vanitas no carte scenarios

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tumbledfreckles · 4 years ago

Text

Glad

Look, things escalated once I saw a post about in the name of fairness and equality, having a shirtless Lily Evans July, to go along with shirtless James Potter May (wasn’t that a cracker). I went off and wrote something, only to find my colleagues had smartly decided to move it August, give we’ve already got the @jilychallenge going on this month. But I’m all about instant gratification, so seeing I was late to shirtless JP, let me be early to shirtless LE. I doubt it’ll be my only entry, regardless.

"Does it hurt?"

Lily shook her head, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from wincing or crying out, as pain tore through her back with each of the shuddering breath.

"Can I see?"

James’ hand hovered in the region of her shoulder, she could see out of the corner of her eye. He hesitated, waiting for permission.

"I'm fine." The words ground out of her with another excruciating shake of her head.

"Evans." His fingers brushed her top, withdrawing the second she flinched, a sharp hiss escaping before she could stop it. "You're not fine."

"I'm okay." Lily turned as she spoke, not wanting her back to him, not wanting to let him keep seeing what had to be the grossest, nastiest thing he'd ever seen. Her eyes met his, surprised to see frustration where she'd expected pity, or worse, disgust.

"Let me help you."

She stared at him, long moments, until the burning pain in the wound was worse than the burn of desire she felt around him, and she gave up on the idea of appearing brave and fierce and worthy.

James’ touch was hesitant, even after she nodded. He didn't seem to know where to start. A gentle caress along the torn and exposed muscle of her shoulder blade drew a groan, a firmer tug at the frayed fabric of her shirt a more strangled, stricken yelp.

"Shit, sorry," he was instantly apologetic. Lily snuck a look over her one intact shoulder, to see James had stepped back, face pale, hand running through his messy locks. He looked nervous, uncertain. Like he knew the answer, but didn't care for the result.

"What is it?" Her voice was husky with pain and fatigue. She wasn't sure how she hadn't passed out yet.

James sighed, looked away, looked back. He grimaced, finally spoke. "It's your shirt. It's stuck, from the," he paused, swallowed, "from the blood."

"Okay," Lily nodded slowly.

He could see she didn't understand. "It has to come off."

"My shirt?"

"Yeah," James sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Your shirt. It has to come off."

"Oh." Eventually, effortfully, her fingers moved to comply. A whimper escaped soon after. "I can't."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"My shirt. I can't get it off." She was horrified to find her eyes pricking.

"Oh." A tick flicked across his jaw as James processed. "Do you want me to -"

"If you don’t-”

“I don’t”

“Ta." Her gaze went to the floor as he stepped closer, reaching for the top button. He clearly tried not to touch her. An absolute failed mission. Warm fingers brushed her throat, her chest, knuckles soft against her breast, her stomach. It wasn't until she felt his hand tremble as he pulled one side of the shirt away, exposing her to his view, that her eyes flew back to his face.

James wasn't looking at her. Not directly at least. Maybe somewhere over her shoulder, possibly near her ear. Lily was fascinated to see a tinge in his cheeks, a flush in his neck. Lips pressed in concentration, he didn't even seem to be breathing. Long lashes hid a storm of hazel behind his wire framed glasses as he work the material towards her shoulders, and paused.

"I'll have to rip it."

She jumped, immediately regretting it as a fresh wave of nausea swept through with the blinding pain. "What?"

"Your shirt," he gestured uselessly.

"My shirt?"

"I can't get it down your arm. Unless you can roll that shoulder," he raised an eyebrow, "I'm going to have to rip your shirt off."

"All your wildest dreams come true, huh, Potter?" Lily couldn't help the quip, despite the pain, and in the moment the grin split across James face, it was worth it.

"Not quite the way I pictured this, believe me," James shook his head as Lily snorted, his face growing somber before she was ready for that one moment of lightness to be over. His hands hovered over a seam. "Ready?"

Lily curls her hands into fists, feeling her nails cut into her palms. "Do it."

Despite her best efforts, a low moan escaped for her throat, a harsh breath as James pulled the material away. Audible, so loud it would have been embarrassing if she'd had the capacity to care, panting came next as he painstakingly peeled it from where it stuck to her skin. So all consumed by her agony, she barely had time to process that she was now shirtless before him.

"I'm sorry." He leant so close, she felt his breath on her now bare, now exposed neck.

"It's okay. Keep going."

"Here." She felt James’ hand reached around her, take hold of hers. He prised her fingers apart, entwining them with his own. "Hold tight."

Lily squeezed gratefully. Probably too tightly, but James gave no indication he minded if she broke any of his bones, as he knitted her back together. The burn of torn flesh was replaced slowly but surely with just the heat of his touch as he healed.

Finally, but all too soon, he was done. But the feel of his rough, calloused fingertips remained. Her skin tingled with awareness. James' hand slid across her now smooth shoulder, catching on her bra strap. She thanked the high heavens it was one of her better ones, having been out for dinner with the girls when she was summoned to the battlefield.

"Alright, Evans?" His voice was soft as he trailed along the lace edge to her collar bone, stopping at the nape of her neck.

Lily leant back, until his shirt brushed against her bare skin. "Much better, thanks." She kept going, leaning her weight onto him, sinking into his warmth. "I was stupid."

"Taunting Lestrange may not have been your best move," James agreed, cheek to hers. His arm stole around her waist, causing her to gasp at the novel feel of his forearm against her stomach. Not wanting him to read her sound of surprise for anything less than pleasure, her own arm covered his, spanning the corded muscles.

Bold from adrenaline, left over from the battle, high of the thrill of surviving another night, she turned her head, until her lips caught his cheek. "Thank you for hauling me out of there."

He nuzzled against her. "You're welcome."

"And thank you for healing me." Her lips landed on the corner of his mouth this time.

"Of course."

"But mostly," she twisted in his arms, hand curling up into his hair, slipping on the unruly strands. "Thanks for hitting that bastard for me when I couldn't."

"Always."

Lily's lips covered his, a perfect fit, like she'd long suspected they would. She heard his hum of pleasure as their mouths moved together for the first time, and all the last bits of tension from the horrible night slipped away. It might have been his kiss, it might have been her relief at their escape, but all of a sudden it didn't matter why her shirt had ended up in tatters on the ground. She was just really glad it had.

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #shirtless lily evans august #james potter #lily evans #post hogwarts jily #taking back always #freckles writes #bit of a different tone #I know #the next one will be lighter #maybe

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raspbrrytea · 2 years ago

Note

I couldn’t leave an ask on your other account, but!! I wanted to thank you for those tags you left on those two fics of mine shdkdkdksld because SAME 😭

My god, writing them and realizing how perfect they are?? And that they don’t exist??? Albedo and Tighnari, of all people…. *sigh*

I’m glad you enjoyed them though, despite the heartache I gave you…. 👉🏼👈🏼

To my followers, I’m gonna go on a bit of a rant out of love. If you like Genshin Impact and fanfiction, check @niicevibe out, they’re amazing! (Slight nsfw mention)

Dude I was writing those tags at 2am so I couldn’t explain at length but here is exactly what I love about your writing;

Even the premise of wondering how human Albedo is, biologically. I’ve seen a couple wrote about it for Scaramouche but not Albedo!

Your realistic inclusion of awkward moments. It makes me 20x more immersed

You write them very in-character: I literally hear their voice when reading

Your choice of dialog, it’s how people really talk! The length, the word choice, the amount of Rizz or lacktherof. Also your dialog to description ratio is golden

Your characterization of the reader- it matches perfectly with how I would respond in those situations. I have a passion for the world that isn’t related to plants but it was super easy to translate it to that so I can fit into Nari’s reader. The empathetic and generous nature of Bedo’s reader is an aspect that I see in myself and I just had to focus on it.

Your description of clothes. In most fics authors want to jump to their favorite part so they go “and suddenly the clothes were gone”, not bothering to mock how RIDICULOUSLY ELABORATE GENSHIN MAKES THEM (pain in the neck for artists) besides, it’s a part of the character’s personality!!

Listen. I almost never read long fics because in tumblr it’s easy to lose your place on a post. But the timing yours have, at a pace where it feels like it’s happening as fast as things in this world? Blessed.

Fr are you a fully published author just masquerading on here

Your transitions felt smooth, I almost never felt like things were too fast or too slow.

Your depiction!!! Of emotions on the face and natural reactions!!! I’m talking about Tignari’s blank stare as he recalls something traumatic, I’m talking about Albedo’s face slowly shifting from emotionless to any of his emotions as if you could see it bloom inside of him- I LOVED IT SO MUCH

I’m just. A sucker for soft intimate and gentle stuff. And you 10000% delivered on that

Like homeboy I couldn’t sleep for another hour from the heartache I had about these characters not being real. I don’t think fanfic has ever done that to me before. (This is a thank you, not a you cause me agony btw)

You may or may not find fan art in your inbox some time in the vague future 👉👈 Thank you so much for providing this content (FOR FREE??) you’re so talented and I appreciate you so much 💗

#sorry op this went on for a while #hope you aren’t bothered #genshin impact #I am still frothing at the mouth #fanfic #fanfiction #genshin #albedo #rant #reply #Tighnari

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ericspinkhair · 4 years ago

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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milliedazzledust · 4 years ago

Text

Even When It Hurts (Clark Kent imagine)

Request by @icyhollands : Clark comforting the reader after she got hurt by someone pretty badly, and him comforting her from a anxiety attack after she gets hurt

Words: 2009

A/N: I know a lot of you were waiting for this so I’m sorry it took so long to write - thank you for your patience and I hope you’ll like it :)

“Clark, you need to come down, now!”

Flying across his enemies on the battlefield, he faintly heard the sound of a voice, even with the distance. As soon as Bruce had found the aliens associated with Darkseid, they had been quick to act and the whole team had made the trip to fight.

While the others were keeping most of their opponents on the ground, he had taken upon himself to divert their attention from the precious object they were trying to steal by attacking from the sky. Too focused on the task, he had missed Arthur and Y/N going after a bunch of them. When she had seen her friend in bad posture, she hadn’t hesitated to put herself between him and the alien, taking the full blast of his hit. Her body had flown across the field before landing on a large tree trunk, breaking it in half. Her vision had been blurred for a moment, too disoriented as her breath was knocked out of her by the hard impact. She hadn’t been fast enough to notice the monster running toward her until she had felt the pain. Arthur had come to her rescue and killed him, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

When she looked down, all she saw was the tip of the weapon he had used, the other half was deep in her side, buried between what she guessed was her ribs.

“Y/N’s been hit!” Arthur yelled as he grabbed her when she fell on her knees.

High above their heads, Clark looked down and quickly spotted the wounded woman. He wasted no time in making his way to her, sending some of the aliens flying with a flicker of his hand. When one of them launched at him, and conjuring up all his frustration and his anger, he punched him with a force that knocked him out instantly.

His eyes remained on her, always. He felt his heart clenched when he saw pain twisting her features and instantly understood the gravity of her situation. She was holding onto Arthur, clutching her side, holding the weapon steady in her flesh. Fear is all he could feel when he landed on the ground, staring at the large gash of blood around her wound. He could even hear her heartbeat getting faster by the second.

Furrowing his brows in concern, he kneeled in front of her and grabbed her face. For a second he just studied her, softly brushing a tear with his thumb, until his eyes landed on hers.

“How bad is it ?” She asked him, her voice a weak whisper.

“You’re gonna be fine” He assured her.

“You’re a terrible liar, Clark” She tried to smile but even that simple movement seemed too much in her state.

She knew if she didn’t feel a thing yet it was purely because of the adrenaline. Tiny little molecules running through her veins, urging her body to fight back, to survive and fix what the foreign object had torn. She could sense fluid pouring out of her injury, the hand clutching her side was already covered in red. She was waiting for the moment the hormone would stop working and she would feel like a bomb had exploded inside of her.

She closed her eyes and a sob escaped her mouth. Her breathing was getting irregular and she was losing her grip. She was exhausted.

“Y/N, stay with me” The superhero tried to motivate her, slowly shaking her head. “Show me those pretty eyes”

She was starting to lose consciousness, and that observation alone terrified him. He kissed her forehead in a sign of encouragement and laid his hand over hers so she wouldn’t let go. She cried out in pain and glanced down. It only took a couple seconds before he was covered in blood as well. He pursed his lips, forcing himself to keep his eyes on hers and not look at the wound. His face was betraying him and he wasn’t even aware of it. She could so easily see the reflection of his own fear in his gaze, the depiction of worry over his features that she lazily traced with her fingers. The shadow of a smile appeared on her lips knowing only she could read him like an open book.

“It’s alright, baby” He comforted her.

“You should work on your poker face” She tried to joke. She was glad it made him smirk.

He turned his head toward Arthur, still holding the woman’s body.

“We’re gonna lay her down” He told him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” Y/N warned him, grabbing his biceps to stop him.

“Do you trust me ?” He muttered, stroking her cheek.

“You know I do”

“Then trust me”

She faintly nodded and let the men handle her wounded body. Arthur was behind her, holding on her shoulders, and Clark was in front of her, one hand on her wound, the other behind her neck. As gently as they could, they started to rotate her. Clark never moved his gaze away from hers, not even when her hand gripped his shoulder in pain or when her tears flowed freely as the pain started to become unbearable.

The moment her head touched the ground, she began to cough blood. Her eyes widened at the realization and her heartbeat hastily palpitated.

“We’re alright” He reassured her.

“We’re alright” She repeated in a whisper. She could no longer focus on anything around her. Anxiety was creeping up and threatening to take over. She knew it would do no good but she couldn’t stop it. Her hand tightly clutched the fabric of her man’s costume and her chest started to rise more rapidly as bile rose in her throat.

“Clark” She called for help in a single breath.

“I’m here, baby. I’m not leaving your side”

He wiped the blood on her mouth with his finger.

“You and I have a date tomorrow, remember ?” He spoke, smiling when she faintly nodded. “So you’re not allowed to fall asleep. I haven’t even introduce you to my terrible cooking yet”

Her laugh started a coughing fit, bringing more blood out of her mouth.

“I have to take it out, Y/N” He said more seriously, motioning to the weapon in her body.

Her eyes widened in panic and she shook her head, ignoring the pain.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, beautiful. I’ve got you”

“A .. plan ?” She asked.

“Yes, I do have a plan” He understood her question. “But you’re not going to like it”

“Tell me” She murmured.

“You’re hemorrhaging,” He explained. “If we let it in, you’re risking an infection”

“And if you take it out, I’ll bleed out” She weakly responded.

“Not if I cauterize the wound”

“How ?”

She understood the moment she saw his eyes flashing red. She gulped, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

“I trust you” She repeated the words she had said already.

He nodded and gave her one last encouraging smile before motioning for Arthur to come closer. He explained his plan in a hurry before standing up, letting the King of Atlantis take his place.

“Ready ?” He questioned the woman.

“Do it” She said, clenching her teeth.

She averted her gaze toward Clark, mouthing one last ‘I love you’ before Arthur pulled out the weapon in a very fast movement and held her down. Superman’s eyes immediately started glowing and he directed his heat vision to the open wound. The moment the high temperature laser touched her skin, she screamed in agony. A horrible, searing pain suddenly invaded her body and she was convinced she was going to die right there. She felt the urge to get away from the source but Arthur had a good grip on her. She kept shouting, as if it would ease the burning sensation. Clark’s jaw tightened and a tear rolled down his cheek, hating to be the one causing her pain.

After only a couple of seconds, she could no longer handle the torture and lost consciousness. The superhero stopped his ministration when he was sure the wound was closed properly and no blood was leaking anymore. Ignoring the smell of burned skin, he silently picked her up in his arms, listening closely to her heartbeats to make sure she was alright.

“I’ve got her” He told Arthur before bolting in the air.

She woke up hours later in a bed, completely disoriented. It took her a solid minute to recognize Clark’s bedroom inside the Kent farmhouse. She felt a throbbing ache on her side and muffled a scream when she touched it. When she looked down, she realized Clark had taken off her suit and had replaced it with one of his shirts. She lifted it to inspect the damage but all there was left of her wound was a small scar made by the man she loved. She shuddered at the memory and swung her legs off the bed. The moment her feet touched the ground, her body crumbled and she lost her balance. A pair of strong arms caught her before she could injure herself.

“You’ve not healed yet” A voice scolded her.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes closed, she let her head fall on his chest and circled his waist, squeezing him in a tight embrace that she so desperately needed. He was her safe line when she was spiraling down, which was happening now that she remembered she had almost lost him.

“How are you feeling ?” He inquired, kissing her head

“Alive” She replied. “I got … I really got scared for a minute”

She brushed a tear and tried to stop the hurricane of negative thoughts hitting her. He felt it too when her body started shaking and ran a hand on her back to calm her down.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you” He swore, holding back the anxiety creeping in. “And I hope you know I won’t let you out of my sight for at least a week”

She knew it was his way of lightening the mood when he could feel her darkness hovering above both of their heads. He had a way of guessing when it was coming and always reacted quickly, diverting her attention to anything else but her mind playing games.

“Do I, at least, get to spend that week in your arms ?” She smirked, raising her head so only her chin was resting on his chest.

“I have conditions” He replied with a smile.

She rolled her eyes.

“Name it”

She saw the change in his attitude and tilted her head in confusion when he took a step back. Cupping her face with both his hands, he stared deeply at her. She could see his quiet emotion through the way his eyes bore into hers, his fear and his devotion.

“Never say I love you like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to hear it” He told her, his lips quivering as a shaky breath escaped his mouth.

Instead of answering, she led him to the bed behind them and together they laid down. He pulled her close and she raised her head until her lips found his. She didn’t need words when she could condensed a million loving thoughts into this moment. The emotion of that kiss alone spoke volume. A simple gesture that meant ‘you’re my home and I won’t leave’

“I love you, Clark”

She repeated the words again and again, making him laugh with happiness. He tightened his hold around her waist until she was almost laying on his chest. Her ear against his heart, she listened with a smile and closed her eyes, soothed by the steady rhythm.

“Thank you” She whispered after a while.

“What for ?”

“Bringing my head and soul back home to you when they get lost”

“Always” He promised.

Her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, she kissed his cheek and peacefully fell asleep in his protective embrace.

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent imagines #clark kent fanfiction #superman #superman x reader #superman x you #superman imagine #superman imagines #superman fanfiction

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kaleidoscope77 · 4 years ago

Text

Amazing (NaLu One-shot)

Summary: Natsu and Lucy's monthly routine is interrupted by a seemingly harmless question.

Rated: T

Words: 1998

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

"Lucy?" Natsu scanned the room for his blonde teammate, a little hint of worry on his face.

Mira had told him about how she came into the guildhall incredibly grumpy that morning, and she's been cooped up in her apartment for the rest of the day.

The girls advised him to give her space for a bit, and while Happy decided to heed their warnings and lay low, Natsu knew good and well what was going on.

"I'm in the kitchen!" The sound of Lucy's voice was enough to prove that his suspicions were correct, she sounded so out of it right now.

Natsu poked his head into the kitchen, and gave a sad smile at the sight of Lucy hunched over on the counter. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Lucy grumbled, "Where have you been?"

"We just got back from a job yesterday," Natsu rolled his eyes, "I was sleepin'."

"...Well, I need you. Now."

"Hm… It's early."

"I know it's early. Just be glad it's not while we were on the job. Now c'mon," Lucy held her arms up, Natsu quickly getting the hint and scooping her up to carry her.

"Bed or couch?"

"Bed, please."

Just as she requested, Natsu brought her to the comfort of her bed and gave her a moment to get situated amongst the pillows before he joined her in laying down.

The two wrestled with the comforter for a bit before ultimately deciding to go without it, and as patience began to run thin, Lucy pulled Natsu closer by his scarf, bringing his body flush against hers.

"You know what to do," She mumbled, earning a quiet growl in response.

"Yeah, I know," Natsu didn't like being rushed, but he knew she had good reason to be impatient. He wrapped his arms around her abdomen and warmed up his hands, Lucy immediately sighing in pure bliss from the feeling.

"Ah, yes…" She snuggled back into him, leaving no space between their bodies, "I've been waiting… all day for this."

Natsu frowned, had he known she was in pain, he would've came over sooner. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Like you said, it came early this month. Hit me like a ton of bricks, though."

"Then you should get something to warm your belly up when I'm not around…"

"I actually do have a heating pad," Lucy turned around to face him, making sure his hands didn't lose their place over the source of her pain, "But your hands are so much better."

Natsu couldn't deny that he really liked hearing her prefer his magic over something else, but a part of him still felt bad. He didn't mind doing this every month, it was the only time Lucy allowed him to not only be in her bed, but to also be this close to her while doing so.

It's nice to feel like she depends on him, and to be able to do something for her that no one else can. And their alone time during these days are always nice, sometimes she'll fall asleep in his arms, and other times they'll pass the time by just talking about any and everything.

But, he still hated that she had to be in pain for them to get this… close.

"Thanks for always doing this for me, Natsu," Lucy smiled. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"'S not like I got something better to do."

"Mhm," She wrapped her arms around his middle, now each of them holding the other tightly, "You're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Aw, that's sweet," Lucy laid her head against Natsu's chest, closed her eyes and took in the peaceful moment. It was amazing to think about how she'd been in so much agony this morning, only for him to show up and relieve so much of the pain in seconds. She considers herself quite fortunate to be close with a fire mage like this. "...Do you think you could do this for me forever?"

"Of course," Natsu couldn't see how that could even be a question. He'll always be here for her when she needs him.

"You sure? Forever is a long time…"

"Yeah, it's not like it's hard to lay here with my hand on your stomach."

Lucy let out a quiet giggle, "That's not just it, though. Like, would you do it even in the distant future? When we're older?"

"...I don't see why not."

"Okay, and even when we go off and get married?"

"Uh, obviously… C'mon, I thought you were smarter than this, Luce."

"What? Don't start with that," She rolled her eyes, "Do you actually think our future spouses would be okay with us cuddling once month?"

Natsu stared at her, and when she didn't get a response, Lucy pulled away from his embrace to look into his eyes. He seemed genuinely confused, like there was something he was silently trying to wrap his head around.

"...Lucy."

"Yeah? You're thinking pretty hard there-"

"Why wouldn't it be okay for us to cuddle once a month?"

"Oh, c'mon. You know why," Lucy's face began to flush. It was obvious that these moments were pretty intimate, she'd only been ignoring it because her cramps are too ruthless for her to be worrying about that sort of thing.

But for him to be so confused, it was like he hadn't even noticed how close they are, and how close they've been since he started being her personal heating pad not too long after they met. Lucy assumed being able to lay with him like this was great progress in the direction she wished to go with him, but perhaps it's not reciprocated.

"Actually, nevermind. Just forget I asked-"

"Wait, I don't get why you think I'll stop doing this for you when we're married…"

"When we're-" Lucy shook her head, choosing to ignore his choice of words and the way they sounded, "Look, my future husband may not like you in my bed, holding me like this."

"...Yes I would, though? And you just asked me to do this for you forever, why would that change when you're my wife?"

It took a full minute for Lucy to process what he just said, and then another minute for her to replay it over and over in her head to make sure he really just said that.

Her face was bright red, burning nearly as hot as his hands on her stomach. "N-Natsu…" She willed herself not to stutter, but it was impossible with the way he looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean we'd be married to each other..!"

"What? Why?" Natsu's face broke out into a pout, and it was just the cutest thing.

Now, Lucy's heart felt like it'd just explode. "Oh my gosh! You seriously- I- I don't even-" She was at a lost, she'd been harboring these feelings for so long, just for him to blatantly admit something like that. "You… you'd wanna marry me?"

"Uh, duh?" This whole conversation had Natsu so confused, "We're basically already married anyway."

"W-what!? No we are not..!"

"We're not..?"

"No!"

"Oh…" Now the sadness on his face doubled, causing Lucy's heart to get tight.

"But…" She took in a deep breath. If he could say it so casually, she need to be upfront with him too, "I mean… I'm not opposed to being l-like… that with you…"

"Oh, so you're cool with it?"

"...Yeah, I'm c-cool with it."

"Cool. Now let's get married so you won't have to ask stupid questions like that!"

"Huh!?" Lucy squeaked when he began to sit up, stopping him before he could start carrying her, "Wait, lay back down!"

"Oh, right," He almost forgot about her current predicament, laying right back down and warming up his hands to offer her comfort. "We'll do it once you're done."

"Oh my gosh…" Lucy still wasn't convinced that this was real life right now, and that he was actually serious about this, "...We can't just go off and get married, Natsu."

"Huh? Says who?" Now he seemed to assume there was something coming in between them, the angry look on his face nearly making Lucy laugh.

"We aren't even dating yet…"

"...So?"

"So, we can't just get married when you haven't even… asked me on a date yet…" Lucy played with the loose ends of her hair, now refusing to look him in his eyes. It was easier to say these things knowing that he wants something like this, but it's still incredibly embarrassing.

"Oh."

"Y-yeah…"

The room fell back into silence, and Lucy let out an awkward cough when she realized he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. "Uh, Natsu?"

"Hm?"

"...We can't get married before we start dating…"

"Yeah, I heard ya."

"...So, ask me on a date, silly!"

"Oh," Natsu had just assumed that was a rejection, he didn't know he could just ask like that, "Okay, uh, wanna go on a date?"

"I do!" As Lucy engulfed him in a big hug, Natsu's own heart began to flutter. She could be pretty confusing at times, but he was glad to have her right here.

"We can get married now, right?"

"Ugh," Lucy tightened the hug so she could hide her flushed face, "I don't know if you're doing this on purpose…"

He wasn't, but if it got her to react like this, he'd be sure to keep it up. "You're so weird."

"Me? You literally just assumed we'd get married! Imagine if I didn't feel the same…"

Natsu growled, he did not like imagining that. Besides, it was pretty obvious to him at this point, it's not like Lucy just let's anyone cuddle with her.

"And to answer your question- we can't get married now, that commitment takes time to think about."

"Eh? But I've had plenty of time…"

"...You've been thinking about it for that long?" Lucy's eyes sparkled, but she quickly brought herself back to reality, "I mean, no. That's something we'd need to discuss together in due time."

Still, Natsu couldn't understand why she'd want to wait so long, but if all she wants is time, he was willing to be patient. "Alright."

"Mhm. Leave it to you to wanna get married before we've even…"

"Hm? 'Before we've even' what?"

"...N-no, nevermind."

"C'mon, Lucy, I wanna know what else I gotta do."

"We, uh, we haven't had our first kiss…"

At the same time, they leaned back to gouge the other's expression, their eyes darting to each other's lips.

Lucy stifled an awkward laugh as she saw the look on Natsu's face, "Oh my gosh, are you blushing?"

He huffed, she was acting like her face isn't bright red right now. Before Lucy could convince herself that she shouldn't have said that, Natsu cupped her cheek and inched closer, her face heating up with each second.

Lucy knew he'd go for it as soon as she said that, and she fought the urge to cowar away when his lips came down to meet hers.

The kiss was quick and clumsy, but it had Natsu grinning against her lips and puffing out his chest in pride.

Lucy let herself giggle once they separated, she was overcome with giddiness and excitement. In her head, things would've been more romantic than an awkward confession in her bed while she's battling period cramps, but that doesn't matter right now.

"Can we kiss again?" Natsu mumbled, already leaning towards her lips.

Lucy answered by closing in the space between them, crashing her lips onto his and deepening the kiss.

Her hands ran along his body, feeling him up and down and enjoying every second before they had to separate for air.

"...Amazing," Lucy mumbled, though it wasn't like she had anything to base the kiss on.

Natsu was in the same boat, and he was actually more concerned about kissing her some more. "Yeah… Amazing."

#ft nalu #fairy tail #lucy heartifilla #nalu #nalu fairytail #natsu dragneel #nalu fluff #fanfic #oneshot #nalu fanfic #natsu x lucy

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leahblackk · 4 years ago

Text

Twin Flames pt.2

Summary: After the events that left Spencer and Y/n with a broken heart, Dr. Spencer Reid is feeling agony wanting to make things better to get back his best friend but things are never easy for those who love. Does things will ever get better?

Type: Angst my people I’m sorry I live and breath angst.

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Crying and and mentions of pain. And long as fuck.

First part here.

Hello friends, it’s me again! The one who loves to write angst yes yes, that’s me. I’m so glad people liked my last post with twin flames and I’m so so happy, thanks for everyone who supported, liked or reblogged. I received many messages threatening me if I didn’t do a second part and because i already had planned to do so, here it is.

Mayor thanks to @samuel-de-champagne-problems who made a playlist and if you want to listen to it while you read this It’d be great and also please listen to her other playlists because she has an exquisite taste; Here is the link.

Tagging; @measure-in-pain and @everythingbutnormal

I want to say that I love putting references on my writing and here is a BIG ONE and i hope you can guess.

But mostly, did you guessed who reader was talking about?

Pain is something human beings want to be far away from, as far away as they can. The way their hearts is squeezed and the sweet air is taken from their lungs making it difficult to breathe, the tears streaming down your cheeks as fountains wanting to have some relief, thinking that if you let the tears out, it might ease things, but it only makes it worse when you can't breathe because of the desperation your heart is feeling. Nothing is too small or insignificant to feel pain from, it can be the death of a fictional character in your favourite book, or it can be a broken heart from the person you trusted the most, your best friend and secret lover, the one you expected to be your twin flame.

Or maybe your favourite girl in the world, that one you loved so dearly and was always there for you, your best friend and partner in crime whom you could watch, what other people considered, boring films with, the one who always hugged you when the pain of the world was too much, and you were just a boy who wanted to reach that desired happiness, but it didn't come, and certainly wouldn't come now.

Spencer knows perfectly that every time he felt like the world was too much when he didn't know where else to go when he was scared of his own mind, he always went to the apartment 13 in DC, the building that is closed to a library where they could go and talk about their interests, or he would just stay in the frame of the door. At the same time, his best friend holds him close to her on the floor, feeling her addictive essence, the one Spencer would recognize everywhere, but he didn't have anywhere to go now that he broke his best friend's heart… He broke… He broke her heart.

How was he supposed to forgive himself? The pain he caused her?

No, he couldn't. He couldn't forgive that. Of course, he wouldn't forgive if someone else dared even to make her upset, but yet he had hurt her so chronically.

Knowing her all too well, he knows that she is probably crying while the soft, melancholic, and sad music plays in the background while she curses him for being such a jerk. He knew he had been an idiot, and he can't forgive himself because she told him what they have done to her, and yet he just did that.

Spencer thinks about how her tears might ricochet while she tries to calm herself down but not having enough strength and success. He can't get rid of that image and breaks his heart into millions of pieces, and he knows he deserves the guilt poisoning his blood. He knows he deserves it, but he wonders who else she was talking about.

She mentions a girl as well in her journal. Spencer memorized all the words in his head, this time reading slower than he is used to, analyzing and maybe taking it as a punishment.

And he wants to know who she is. He doesn't have a clue. Yes, he is a genius and profiler who analyzes things and catches serial killers, but the worst serial killer he has ever faced is the pain his body is feeling, the tears streaming down his face, the loneliness he is feeling now going through his body and cursing him, every inch and every place. And, of course, his dangerous mind has done an incredible job to remind him what he had done.

He tries to breathe in the unmistakable air in front of him, but he can't make his lungs take. It's something so aching and so unfair, something life gave you. You can feel the obvious air caressing your face, but you can't breathe it in even if you try to. It is the worst punishment for those with pain inside their bones, the knives digging profoundly in your soul, waiting for it to bleed out—the third-degree burning of your skin.

He knew at that moment that it didn't matter the amount of freedom he could have because it wouldn't get him clean from his crimes. He feels like a prisoner of his own mind. After all, she was all over him, impregnated like the sweet essence in her body and hair that one Spencer loved and missed so much, that one that brings him comfort in the storm and the dark. He has always been scared of the dark, but it is scarier to know he lost her.

Questions and questions passed and wander around his mind. He wants to breathe, he wants to be free, but freedom is not accessible when you break your favourite person's heart.

…

Y/n needed fresh air, even if her heart was burning with every step she gave, the pure fire that spread in every inch. She needed to get out of that house as it was impregnated with every memory she shared with the boy with hazel eyes she loved so much. Even if he broke her heart, she still loved him, and she hates herself for it, she hates it, and she wished before to hate the woman whom he loved, but now she wishes to hate him more because it can't be. He just can't be the sweetest man she has ever known and still, being capable of hurting her, of leaving her without air, to leave her with the fire inside of her, with the broken heart in a million pieces passing around the cold city.

She wants to hate him, but her heart can't. Why is her heart so stupid? Why is her heart still loving someone her brain wants to hate?

Y/n shakes her head, trying to shake simultaneously the thoughts that kept her mind as a prisoner while she walked through the city. It was a cold afternoon. The sky was medium-dark. It still had the light as the crepuscule kept its performance above her head, but on the other side, the dark wanted to rule the whole sky, and she chuckled sarcastically at the ironic situation.

Her head turned left, the window of an old shop caught her attention. Her eyes wandered around until she saw an old brown journal. Her heart stopped.

It was a very similar journal to the one she gave to Spencer for his birthday. Spencer loved old things, so did she. So she knew that brown journal with an aged appearance would be a very dear gift to him.

The cold wind blows her hair away, getting her out of her painful memories, but her heart was about to be squeezed even more.

She heard a very familiar voice; Spencer’s. That voice that bring her comfort in the storm before now it caused the storm.

She turned and looked around to see if he was really there or her mind wanted to play painful tricks on her. It wouldn't be the first time. Then she saw him. His tall figure wrapped in a black coat with messy brown curly hair, pale skin but rosy cheeks, dark circles keep prominent, and brown-hazel eyes.

Those eyes she missed being on her were now on someone else. And, again, it wasn't on her. Y/n's eyes full of regret and pain take their gaze off of him to see his partner on that day. But, again, it was her, and it always has been her, and it always will be her because she is the one who has been keeping that piece of heart Y/n dreamt about, and because his eyes were on her, and because she was with her instead of Y/n, even if she knew that if he went to her apartment, she wouldn't let him in, but he didn't even try. He didn't take the fake regret and guilt he claimed so much and knocked on her door to ask for forgiveness. He didn't take a minute of his precious time with her. Instead, he was with her. Maybe laughing about all the things Y/n wrote in her journal as a schoolgirl in love.

And Y/n though her heart couldn't break anymore, but the universe laughed in her face and proved her wrong as the sky was also sad, it started raining. The strong drops dropped on her face, feeling like fresh air again. She looked up at the sky and closed her eyes while people ran from the rain, not wanting to get wet, but she stayed. She was good at staying even when everyone wanted to go.

It wasn't a bad thing that after the awful day she went through, it started raining. Instead, it was refreshing. Hope raised in her heart to let her know she had to move on. She can't stay in a place where she has been hurt, even if her heart wanted to stay, to wait for something… But no, she won't wait.

"Y/n," She heard her name being called by the voice that hurt her the most. She opened her eyes and looked at him, there in front of her. His messy hair now was wet, extremely wet. He was trembling as the cold wind blew and hit his face.

Y/n frowned and turned around. Who thinks he is talking to her?

She turned around so fast that she felt the air give her a strong slap of reality, and she started walking, but she heard it again, "Y/n… please, please," he begged. She looked over her shoulder and shook her head, and kept walking, leaving the young doctor in the middle of the rain.

Spencer looked at her go, and then the illumination of the shop at his right asked him to look at the window, and he obliged. He looked at the journal his dear best friend was looking at before, and a smile broke into his pale lips while tears mixed with the drops of the rain.

He remembered the time when she bought his current journal for him. He closed his eyes, getting lost in the memory.

His last journal, one his mom had given him, got destroyed after a case where it got wet, and he tried to fix it, but the ink was all over the pages, and he lost hope. JJ told him to get a new one, but he didn't want to. He wanted that specific one, which holds memories and thoughts, sometimes little reviews of his favourite books and movies, and a list of things he wanted to do.

His birthday was coming, but he still felt bad because of his journal, and Y/n being the kind soul she is, looked for an identical one, and she found it.

He remembers that after coming from a little party at Rossi's to celebrate his special day, he went to her apartment as she told him she got a surprise for him, and he waited on her soft and warm couch, and she told him to close his eyes, and he did. Then, he felt the soft book in his hands, and he opened his eyes with surprise to find the exact replica of his book, and then with a smile on his face, he looked up to her, who was already looking at him with a small smile.

"I thought they were limited edition," he said.

"Yes, but I have contacts. I know that many looked like the one you lost, but this one is almost the same. I also know that you loved that other journal but…" he didn't let her finish as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you," he murmured in her ear, and she felt goosebumps take place in her skin.

"You're welcome."

He let her go and asked her for a pen, she frowned but still passed him her Pen, and he opened the second page (leaving the first one to put his name) and started writing, she tried to look at the page, but he brought the journal to his chest. "I want to see," she said with a little chuckle.

"Maybe one day you get to see."

…

Monday came fast, very fast. Quicker than Spencer expected, he didn't want to go to work without enough energy, but duties called.

On his matutine walk to the metro, then to the coffee shop, he stopped at a flower shop asking the florist for flowers that said, "I'm sorry for being a jerk, forgive me." But she didn't have those, so he chose Y/n's favourite ones and walked all the way to the office, hoping to see her and begged for her forgiveness. He would get on his knees if he needed to.

But soon as the elevator door opened, he knew she wasn't there. The atmosphere wasn't the same as when she was there. It was cold and lonely. The same way he has been feeling the past days. And he walked all the way to his desk to see an empty desk where his best friend was supposed to be. He frowned.

She never skipped work, even when she was dying of flu. He remembered one time when he had to get her back home and stayed with her for the rest of the weekend so she wouldn't go to work and get enough rest.

He left the flowers on his desk and walked to the stairs all the way to Hotch's office, knocking on the wide-open door to announce his presence. Hotch looks up from files of work to him. "Where is Y/n?" he asked without wanting to make a small conversation first. He hated small conversations.

Hotch gave him a confused look because of his behaviour but decided not to ask, "She asked for two weeks to be away. She mentioned something about a family emergency," he quietly spoke and put the files he had on his hands on the desk. Spencer's heart stopped. What if something happened? What if she wasn't okay? What if- "I thought you already knew. You two talk about everything," and that was the final drop. His heart ached at the memory of her telling him everything before when he still got the chance to say she was his best friend. He used to say it with pride. Now he felt ashamed because he let someone as golden as her go.

His heart begged him to have a little hope, but he felt lost and scared.

"Hotch, can I ask for a free day? I-I want to know if she is okay."

Hotch nodded, "Yes, I was also worried about her anyway." Spencer nodded, about to get out of the office and run to her apartment. "And Spencer," he looked at Hotch again. "Please make sure she is okay, don't leave her alone."

"I will try," and with that, he stormed out.

If he only knew…

He walked downstairs and made his way to the bullpen, and he looked at Morgan, who was on Spencer's desk looking at the flowers. Derek looked at him and smiled, ready to tease Spencer about it, "Pretty boy, I see you're gonna get so chicks," he laughed and looked at Garcia, who walked where they were.

"I'm not in the right humour for jokes, Morgan." He took the flowers out of his desk. It burns to know they didn't had the chance to do the purpose he wanted to.

"What's wrong?" Garcia asked, concerned.

"Well, maybe if Morgan didn't read Y/n's journal, we wouldn't be in this position," Spencer snapped, putting his satchel on his shoulders.

"What's wrong with pretty girl?" Morgan asked, now concerned as well. He loved Y/n like a little sister and, knowing that she might not be too well, hurt him.

"Y/n knows you read her journal, or well she thinks I did. I took the blame for you so she wouldn't be mad at you too, and now she won't talk to me, and if you excuse me, I have to leave. You're welcome," he started walking to the elevator again as he heard Morgan calling for him having memories of the moment when he left to confront her or how Spencer remembers; One of the worst days of his life.

Morgan and Garcia shared a quick gaze without knowing what to do.

…

Spencer made his way to the stairs, going up and up. He could take the elevator of the building, but he found the stairs as a perfect opportunity to know what to say and think and get the words right in his head because he wasn't good with words, but he knows he can't live without his best friend so for him is better to try to formulate the words than the risk to lose her. And he hopes it is not too late.

His feet move softly and almost like he was afraid to confront her, but what he really feared is to know that she didn't want him in her life anymore. That was the real fear he felt. But then, he found himself in front of the wooden door, his heart racing with every second that passed, and he knocked three times like he always did.

He could see the lights on. He knew she was there. And a minute passed, two minutes, three minutes, and she didn't answer. And his fear increased, this time fearing she wasn't alright.

And he knocked three times again.

And again.

But the door never opened.

"Y/n please," he begged with tears in his eyes burning and hurting. "I-I know you don't want to talk to me, and believe me. I understand. I don't even want to talk to myself. I just want to know if you are alright. I bought you flowers, your favourite ones, and I thought I could give them to you at work, but then you weren't there, and I got worried, and I asked Hotch, and he said you wouldn't go to work for two weeks, and I'm scared that you might not be okay for another reason beside of me being an idiot, so please, please Y/n I'm begging you, and if you were in front of me right now I would be on my knees, please let me know if you are there. Y-You don't have to open the door if you don't want to, I obviously want you to do so, but I won't put pressure on you, just please knock the door three times if you are there, please," he stopped talking as the air got cut from his lungs and he gasped feeling the pain moving throughout his body.

Y/n heard him, with tears in her eyes as well. She didn't want to open the door because she didn't want to say things that might hurt him or maybe because she wasn't ready to face those hazel eyes. She decided that the first time she's gonna see Spencer after this is after she gets over him. Even if that's gonna take time, she knows it's gonna take time, but it is a decision that's already made.

But she knows Spencer, and she knows he won't leave until he knows she's alright, so with careful steps and with her heart beating so fast, sweaty hands, she gets close to the door and knocks on the door three times slowly as her hand trembles.

Spencer is thanking the heavens on the other side of the door because she is okay, relatively.

And then, he left the flowers on her door and turned around to go back home, at least knowing she was okay.

Feeling some relief in his heart, even if things were tense, she was okay. He looked at the door again. He was never a believer in god, always envying those who believed in this magical person who would do anything, so he asked for her to come back to him because he doesn't know if he can live without her.

…

Y/ns apartment was a mess.

Just like her mind, that wasn't because she wanted to, but sometimes it was not easy to even get out from the sofa. But she wasn't going to let all her sadness and pain take place in her apartment, where she used to feel comfort and that vanilla essence all over the place in the air. Now smelled like him.

Every corner had memories of the man she loved and wanted so badly to get out of her head. Like her kitchen when he almost burned her apartment trying to recreate a recipe he wanted to do for so long.

And then her living room, where she is now on the floor. They always used to watch Doctor Who and… What is she doing? Why is she trying to remember those painful memories when she should be forgetting about him, hating him more than anything and…

A knock on the door made her stop, again.

She stands up from the floor and gives careful steps to the door, her heart wanting to get out of her chest and never come back as he didn't want to be in such a hurtful place.

She gets close to the door, fearing him being on the other side, but now she remembered it was only one knock she heard while Spencer always gives three, so her heart is less heavier. She pressed her cheek on the cold wooden door as she looked at who was on the other side, looking at blonde wavy hair and brown eyes behind glasses and her colorful clothes. It's Penelope.

Y/n opens the door to look at Penelope with cookies in one hand and her favourite flowers in the other one. Pen looks her up and down, stopping on her red puffy eyes, and her heart breaks as tears are already forming on her eyes, she puts the things on the floor and opens her arms, ready to receive her broken friend, and Y/n needing that hug more than anything collapses on them. Both of them crying quietly in the lonely hallway.

"H-h-he," Y/n tries to say, not being able to breathe properly.

"I know pumpkin, I know," the blonde woman comforts.

Pen knows.

Of course, she knows. Even before Spencer did, even before Y/n even knew what she felt for him. Pen knew.

Y/n hoped for Spencer not to notice the way she looked at him, and he didn't, but that doesn't mean anyone else didn't.

And when Y/n was able to identify and accept her feelings towards the doctor, the first and only person who heard it was Pen.

That's why she stayed quiet when everyone found out about her feelings. And when Morgan and Prentiss asked her whom Y/n was talking about, she said she didn't know, even if she did.

After what it felt like an eternity, Y/n and Pen got up from the floor and entered the house. Penelope, knowing her apartment already, went to the kitchen to make her tea so she could relax a little, and the cookies she specially made for her, making it precisely in the way Y/n liked.

And then she took everything where she was, on the floor in her living room, again as she looked through the pages of her journal, wanting to throw it away because she felt the deception and the unknown hands all over its pages, losing its magic. Now being a reminder of what's been broken.

After putting everything on the coffee table behind Y/n, Pen walked where the flowers were and put them in front of Y/n. She looked up and gave her a small smile, unsuccessful as she felt the pain taking it out of her face with force. She didn't even have the energy to smile because she didn't only lost her secret lover, but she lost his best friend. Y/n remembers when she told Spencer she always ended up losing best friends, and he promised he wouldn't leave her.

And he broke her promise as well as he broke her heart.

"You didn't have to," Y/n said with a broken voice that Pen had to close her eyes feeling her pain.

"I wasn't the one who bought it. It was on your door, I think doctor Reid did," Pen spoke, being afraid of her reaction, but Y/n was tired of reacting. She only took the floors and put them on the other side on her left, a little far from her, feeling like it burns her. "You want to talk about it, love?" Pen asked, sitting in front of her and taking the journal out of her sight.

"I already talked about it with myself. It didn't end well," Pen chuckled, and then Y/n looked at her and chuckled as well. Both women stared at each other as they started to laugh louder and louder, and then both stopped.

The silence ruled the place for a few seconds before Y/n broke again, the sobs leaving her lips. "It hurts so much, Pen," she quietly spoke. "I-I never-I have never- I never thought it could hurt this much. I'm always preparing myself for people to leave me, but I never got prepared for this," she brought a hand to put it on her mouth as the sobs left her lips. Penelope took her hand away.

"Let it out, don't retain yourself."

…

The sun softly slipped through her blinds while it made its way to her face, asking her to wake up. She, then feeling her body too heavy even to get up, turned around and closed her eyes, ignoring the sun who wanted so desperately to wake her up, but he wasn't the only one as the door softly knocked.

She groans as she forces her body to get up from the bed and walk through the hallway. She looks at how things are less messier and in their place.

After crying for hours with Pen, they both got up and decided to get Y/n's life together, cleaning and listening to music while they cursed someone's name. To be honest, she felt much better, she felt hope, she felt her heart beating for something much more than just pain, and she knows she will not be in this state forever. She is gonna act like she acted when her best friends left her. It wasn't the first time that happened, and she wonders if it would be the last time, when she finally decides to learn the lesson.

She shakes her head, not wanting those early thoughts poisoning her mind.

And then, she's already in front of the door. As she always does, she looks at the peephole and looks at Morgan standing right there, waiting for her to open the door. She frowns.

Why did her OTP decided to visit her two days in a row? She gets the thought to get away from her and opens the door to greet Morgan, not wanting anyone's pity anymore, looking like hell, she smiles at him. "Hi Morgan, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"You're joking, right?" he says with a frown.

She frowned again and shook her head, "No, why?"

"Rossi is gonna kill you," she feels her confusion increase with every second. "Engagement party? Rossi? Today? Something resonates?" Morgan looks at her face be from confused to surprised.

"I-I totally forgot," she said, looking at the floor with embarrassment filling up in her body.

No shit Sherlock.

After everything that has happened in the last couple of days, she forgot about Rossi's engagement party and his threat to those who even thought about missing it. But she also knows someone will be there, and she is definitely sure she doesn't want to be near him, not right now. Well, she is not sure if she ever will want to be near him ever again as he hurt her so much.

Y/n feels the guilty filling her heart as the thought of her being immature gets to her head. She doesn't want to be childish, but she can't help it. Not after years of knowing him, a few ones of loving him in the shadows.

She has never judged people who couldn't stand looking at people who had hurt them. She has never judged anyone but herself. Not even Spencer has been cruel with her more than she has already been with herself. Always blaming herself when someone left her… She has been the most damaging person to herself than anyone who has been in her life and then left.

She feels ashamed as her stomach moves around and makes her dizzy. She feels sick because of the situation.

She looked up at him after, what for her was a minute, but for him seconds of thoughts and thoughts, she came up with an excuse, ignoring the screams in her head calling her weak. "I, uh, I really can't go, I have some family problems going on right now, and I just need to be there," she mentions using the excuse she used with her boss.

He looked at her. She was a great liar, and being a profiler allowed her to be even more, always making people believe every lie she gave. He almost believed her, almost.

She didn't count on the fact she was talking with Derek Morgan, after Spencer, her best friend. Someone who always looks after her like a little sister, feeling the need to protect her from the world who always has been cruel with people like her. He feels disappointed in himself because he couldn't protect her from this.

He always knew the feelings she so dearly held in her heart for Doctor Reid. The way she looked at him like he was the most precious thing on her heart was oblivious for Reid but for the rest of the team. Especially not him.

He didn't even need to hear it from her, or from anyone else who might know or have their theories. The look in her eyes, like heart-shaped with golden sparkles all over, the way she always listens to his little rambles and defending him when someone even dared to give him a nasty look.

Reid didn't stay behind either. Despite the fact of him being a jerk without even knowing what he was doing, he always protected her, for everyone but him. He couldn't stand, and he wouldn't stand those who dared to give her a bad look or wanting to have something more than she wanted with them, or always protecting her in the field, wanting him to get hurt but not her. Yet, he has been the trigger of her massive pain.

He suspected that Spencer shared the feelings for her, but apparently, he was wrong.

He sighed, "Baby angel, I know that's a lie. I saw Pen earlier, she had puffy eyes, and you have them too. Put the pieces together, and you get the answer," he said, trying to get her to look at him. "Hey, if you don't want to go, at least let me talk to you for a sec."

She nodded, letting him in, walking all the way to her couch. He sat waiting for her to do the same, and she did, not looking at him again. "Hey," he said, lifting her chin up by putting a finger in there, "I know what happened with pretty Ricky. He brought those pretty flowers you have over there to work," he said, pointing to the corner to the flowers where Y/n left them, still not taking them. She turned around and looked where he points, but then look back at him, the memory of him hurting her soul, "And he was all nervous because he didn't saw you there, we all are worried about you but him the most, and then he told me that he took the blame for me, and I couldn't stand that."

She looked at him, confused. What was he talking about?

"You see, the day you left the journal there at work, I was the one who told him to read it, but he didn't want to because he said he didn't want to step on your privacy, but I didn't listen to him, and I read it. I know it was wrong, but I was worried about you. You were acting all weird that week, and I know you are the type of person who doesn't talk about their feelings, and I wanted to help you because, baby angel, I hate seeing you all sad. It hurts my heart. You are like my little sister, and as a brother, I can be a little bit of a dumb sometimes, and I caused all of this. You being mad with Reid, and he took the blame for me so you wouldn't be mad at me, but I can't stand that. You are in every right to be mad about it."

She looked at him. She wondered if she was mad, but she didn't feel anything. Her heart didn't feel anything. Maybe because all the feelings she had, like prisoners, were out, and she felt numb, something she wasn't used to. She was used to keeping her feelings deep down, and now she let them out. She didn't know how to act.

Besides what Morgan did, he had good intentions.

But then, if she was mad at Reid by doing the same, and knowing he didn't do it… should she still be mad at him? Maybe the real reason she was mad with Reid was because he didn't love her, not because he read her journal.

Was she willing to forgive him?

No, because he demands to know how the man was, know why she didn't tell him, and use the fact she didn't share with people her feelings and thoughts against her. He was sarcastic and hurtful to her, even if he didn’t read it he sat and listen what the secrets said.

Anger rises in her heart.

But no, it wasn't going to ruin her. Not anymore.

"I-I'm not mad at you," she finally said.

Morgan felt his heart lightly as he was carrying guilt there, and guilt can be heavier than everything in the world. He couldn't stand the bare thought of her being mad at him.

"Are you gonna come with me and be at Rossi's?" he asked, hoping the answer would be a yes.

She shook her head, "Even though I shouldn't be mad at Reid for what he did, I don't want to look at him. I know it is childish, and I should do better, but my heart can't stand looking at him right now. It never really hurt the fact that he read my journal, but the reality of knowing he never loved me and he would never do. And, he was my best friend, you know? Everything is ruined. I guess my fear of not wanting to confess my feelings because I didn't want to ruin our friendship finally happened and even worse than just confessing my sins. But still, you weren’t here when he was trying to blame me for something he did," she chuckled, fearing the tears would come down once more, but they didn't.

Her body was tired of crying. She was sure there were no more tears to drop as they were already out.

Morgan's heart ached to look at her in that state and the fact she said "was my best friend," even if she wasn't talking about him.

"Do you realize you still have the chance to still be her best friend?" Morgan asked.

"And then what? Receive pity from him for not reciprocating my feelings and watching him loving another person? I have never been a selfish person, but to be honest, I prefer to be that today."

She was right. And Morgan knew it. She was damn right.

"Be a selfish person then. I support you but what I don't support is the fact that you are not gonna go to one of your friend's engagement party because this dumb boy who doesn't know better is gonna be there. You are a queen. I know my queen would never stay behind for a boy."

But he wasn't just a boy. He was Spencer Reid, the man Y/n has been in love with.

"I don't think it is a good idea," she said, shaking her head.

"Let me tell you something. If you go, and then you don't stand to be in the same place as him any longer, then I will bring you home myself, you agree?"

She thinks.

He was right. It was Rossi. He doesn't forgive easily. Besides, it was just one night. Spencer would not interfere.

She groans then, to appear annoyed, "Alright, you won. But don't drink because you are driving me home."

"You are gonna be way more wasted than me, believe me." They both laugh before Y/n goes to get ready.

…

Y/n looked at herself in the mirror attached to the wall white wall of her room while she passed her hands through her hair and the pastel-colored dress she was wearing with soft fabric to make her feel comfort. Not too tight because that night, she needed to breathe, and she tried to calm the screams and the voices inside her head, and, of course, her hands that were shaking like jelly. Then, her gaze raised to her face examining her features and what with makeup she tried to cover. Her rosy nose and cheeks, and those puffy, red full of pain eyes. Those who visited her in the past days looked into their souls and made them feel her pain. And now they remember the phrase, "eyes are windows of the soul," they didn't believe it until they witnessed it on her friend.

She sighed, already tired of the world and its weight. Of the pain and guilt, the problems and the broken hearts.

Then she turned around and took a cardigan as she looked outside to the cold ambience and walked through the obscure hallway of her apartment, all the way to Morgan, who was waiting for her in her living room. Her heels made a sound on the floor, letting Morgan know she was ready, and he turned around and stood up from her couch, and looked at her with a soft smile. Her beauty amused him but also hurt by the look on her face.

"You look fantastic," he said, trying to make her smile, and she did, but he knew it wasn't a true one.

"Thank you," her soft voice resonates in the silent house. He smiles at her and offers his arm as she passes her hands, grabbing it and walking towards the door. She was ready to leave and confront the problems she so much wanted to run from, but you cannot run forever.

…

The cold, pitiless wind knocks her as she walks with Morgan by her side, her legs trembling as jelly on a plate, and she looks for something to hold onto, this time being Morgan's arm. Her heart was beating faster than she could even be aware of, but her stomach dropped, and her sweaty hands definitely were aware of how fast her heart was going. Her hands were shaking as the fear entered her soul and ruled every inch and every corner, filling up with thoughts and thoughts.

Fear, how merciless this one was. Dispiteous as a villainor as the serial killers she chased every day, but now they were chasing her to take revenge and win those battles she once won.

Morgan looked at her to check if she was alright. Outside she only looked hurt and nervous, but inside she was terrified of the what-ifs her mind was reproducing, but mostly, she was scared of the most merciless and dispiteous villain of all; Love.

To say that love wasn't a fan of Y/n was just an understatement.

And then, they entered Rossi's mansion, as he so much liked to call, walking towards the backyard where everyone else was. Morgan, once more, looked down at her, "You're gonna be alright. I won't leave you alone," he said with a whisper.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to stop the scream of fear leaving her body, and then she looked at how beautiful everything was. White and green were the main colours, and lights were all over the garden as everything was getting darker and darker, the sun leaving the sky to give place to the beautiful and mysterious moon to make her performance of every night, Y/ns favourite.

Then she looked at her coworkers, who laughed and talked all around while soft music played. She always loved to look at them in such good humour, but now that was a reminder of how she was supposed to be, how she always pretends to be. Their laughter rang in her ears to let her know they were happy, but she wasn't.

She felt out of place. The family that once gave her comfort now was a reminder of her pain, making her feel like an outsider. She didn't belong to them, but did she ever?

Y/n looked at the face she claimed to know but now felt like strangers who just shared memories with her. And then she looked at him. Her heart stopped and jumped as it always did. He still had that effect on her even if she wanted so badly to avoid it.

He wasn't aware of her stare as he always has been, he was smiling, but the smile didn't go up to his eyes.

He was wearing a black suit, looking elegant, maybe to hide the fact he has been suffering the past couple of days or to look good for her.

And then he lifted his gaze as he then felt a familiar look on him, and he searched until he locked eyes with hers. Her eyes and his hazel ones made a connection that made him see sparks. He has missed her for so long.

She looked beautiful. She always looked even though he could see the pain behind those pretty eyes.

And both of them stared at each other eager for the feeling of comfort the other had. Their happy place, their comfort person. But now that bond was broken, and they wonder if it will ever be what it was before because even if you get hurt and the injury heals, the scar will always be there as a reminder of what it was before, of the pain and the bleeding and s story to tell those curious people who ask.

Their gaze split from each other to look at the person they were with, those who stood by their side as a replacement of the other, but not enough compared to the other.

Spencer looked at the tall figure of his best friend and coworker, Derek Morgan holding her while she looked at his partner as well.

She always envied the woman she thought was the owner of Spencer's heart; Maxine Brenner.

The brunette woman Spencer met a few months ago, and he has been obsessed with. Taking every last drop of happiness and hope she holds in her heart. The hope Spencer might love her in the way she does. In the way, she only sees him as the love of her life and owner of her heart, even if she wasn't the owner of his.

That maybe Spencer's breath might cut and be difficult to breathe every time she entered a room and because the intense feelings he had for her made it impossible for him to love someone in the way he loves her.

But, reality hit her and made her realize he never has and will never see her as something more, just his stupid best friend who writes love letters and confessed her feelings in her journal instead of facing him.

That was she was for him, nothing more but something less.

Just someone else in his life, and not the most important person. And then she looked at him. She felt sick to look at him because every time she looked at him was a reminder of what he didn't feel for her. What she did felt and she will always feel even if she runs from him, but what he would never feel because Y/n Y/L looked at Spencer Reid as the most important person for her, she looked at him as the perfect masterpiece a museum could ever have, she looked at him as the most precious creature the universe could have… She… She looked at him like she looks at the beauty of the moon. When someone lifts their heads and looks at the beauty of the precious and mysterious moon, they look amused, not believing something so precious could ever exist.

She looked at him like people look at the universe. Amused but not understanding how something can be so perfect yet admiring it.

But Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, in Y/n's eyes, only looks at her as a reminder of the crimes he has committed and has to fix because he couldn't live with the guilt poisoning his blood.

The realization hit her in the gut. Spencer Reid has never loved her.

She looks at Morgan, and he nods, understanding everything without talking with her, and she looks at him once more and his partner, who seem concerned because Spencer was silent and not looking at them.

And then, without anything more, she walks away from the house, feeling the wildfire in her heart expanding throughout her body, making her breath get cut and be difficult to breathe. She then hears the storm in the sky as the lightning bolts make their performance in the sky, and the rain drops with force, creating an echo all over the place. Y/n jumps in her place and stops for a moment but then keeps walking until she searches for a place to wait for Morgan to come to her and take her home, where she should have been in the first place.

She curses herself, and her eyes fall in a white gazebo. She thanks the universe for stopping being cruel to her, and she runs, feeling the cold rainfall into her skin.

When she steps on the wooden floor, she hugs herself, wanting to feel warm and trying to protect herself from the world, especially from Spencer Reid.

She thinks that her problems might stop now that she learned the lesson and accepted her destiny, knowing Spencer has never loved her as she loved him.

But her problems were about to get worse when Spencer stepped behind her in the gazebo. He had searched for her desperately, and he felt relief when she looked at her there.

"Y/n," he says with a quiet voice.

She jumps in her place as she turns around to look at him. Fuck the universe.

"For god's sake," she says under her breath, and Spencer felt goosebumps taking place in his skin, maybe because of the cold wind or because it was the first time he heard her voice in a long time.

"Y/n please, we need to talk," he pleaded.

"We don't have anything to talk about, Reid," she spoke, turning around again.

"Of course we have," he says, taking her arm and turning her around to look at her, but she takes her arm out of his touch, feeling like it burns. She looked at his hurt face, and she almost felt guilty about it. Almost.

He doesn't know what it hurts the most. Her calling him Reid or the fact his touch disgusts her.

But he doesn't blame her. He feels disgusted with himself too. How can someone be so cruel ever to hurt someone like her?

"No, we don't have anything to talk about. Please enjoy the party," she says. She bits her tongue, preventing her from mentioning her.

"The party is not that fun without you," he says, looking at the ground, feeling ashamed.

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "Don't be so hypocritical."

He looks up and frowns, "What are you talking about?" he asks, confused.

She bit her tongue again, with a little more force than before, but she couldn't help the words leaving her lips.

"You claimed you were feeling guilty about what you did and missing me and being worried about me, but you didn't have guilt when you were laughing with her the other day and hours after you came to my house to ask for forgiveness," she says with venom in her voice. Y/n knows she doesn't have the right to talk about that as she was his girlfriend, but he didn't have the right to be so cruel to her either.

"That's not what it is. I was with her that day because-" he starts, but Y/n shakes her head and interrupts him.

"You don't have to give me any explanation, Reid. I really don't care anymore what you do with your life. It's your problem, not mine."

He stays silent as her words remain on his head, hearing them repeatedly, and before he even knows what he's doing, he speaks again. "You don't have the right to act like that with me when you don't even had the courage enough to confess your feelings for me and say I didn't feel the same when I had loved you since the first day you stepped on the job. You don't have the right to call me a hypocrite for talking with another woman when the only woman I have ever loved is you," he looks at her face of surprise, and he knows he should stop. However, he steps closer to her and keeps talking, "You didn't have the right even to mention the way I look at Maxine because I have never looked at her the way I look at you, and when I was with her that day was to explain to her that I didn't felt the same she felt for me as my heart it has always been yours even before I even met you. You didn't dare to confess your feelings to my face, and instead, you wrote about what you thought my feelings were when you didn't even have the minimum idea of what my true feelings are."

He loves her… She is supposed to feel happy about it. He loves her, but why is anger racing in her heart as venom? Why does she want to slap him across the face and leave him there, in the middle of the rain?

Her salvation comes when she looks at Morgan, but she won't stay quiet. "You don't have the right to talk about encouragement when you didn't have it to confess your feelings as well," she remains silent as the tears run down her face, and she gasps to let the air make its path, "Fancy to know what you feel, and yes, you're right. Everything I wrote in my journal was wrong. Starting with my feelings for you. I regret the day I fell in love with you, Doctor Reid."

And with that, she walks away from him to talk where Morgan was and goes to her apartment. Without looking at Reid, and him not looking at her because her words hurt even more than he could ever think of.

When Morgan and Y/n left Spencer Reid, the guilt and the weight of her words were too much to even stay on his feet. So he collapses on his knees into the cold, wet floor of the gazebo in the middle of the rain as the tears drop off his face.

Y/n leaving him with a broken heart, again.

...

Spencer walks while the tears remain on his face, and he gasps from time to time to let the air in. The pain his heart is feeling is way more than he could ever explain. He remembers the only time he felt pain like this one, and it wasn't a good experience.

His gaze goes up at the building, her apartment. He's outside while the rain has already left, but his clothes are wet, a reminder of what happened. His heart is in pain, but he can only think about her pain.

To be honest, he deserves it because he has been quite a jerk without knowing and knowing what he was doing. He wasn't the best at describing his feelings, and he can be an idiot when he is mad, sometimes saying things he doesn't mean.

He has to ask for forgiveness again.

The decision has been made as his heart encourages him to talk with the owner of him, and Spencer happily obliged.

He walks feeling nervous with every step he gives. He moves his hands up and down as he tries unsuccessfully to stop them from trembling.

And this time, he uses the elevator as his heart can't wait anymore to tell her what he should have told her long ago.

And he walks and walks through the cold hallway, his heart jumping excitedly, and he looks at her door and stretches his hand to knock, but then he stops.

He has to knock two times because if he does three times, she will know it is him, and she won't open it. So he does. He knocks just two times feeling weird doing so.

He hears movement on the other side, and his heart stops. He takes his hands to his face, wipes the tears away, and then lifts his hands to his hair, trying to look good for her.

Y/n moves to the door wiping her tears, and thinks that Derek forgot something as he came back so quickly, or maybe he doesn't want to leave her alone. And she opens the door wide open without looking at the peephole first as she always does.

When Spencer was about to pass his hands through his clothes, the door was wide open. He looks at her, puffy eyes, messy hair, and with the same dress, he looked at her before. But still, she is the most beautiful girl in the world to him. The only one he would ever look at, and his heart ached at the thought of her thinking he would ever love someone else but her.

Y/n looks at him, and her heart stops. Even though she is mad at him, he is still the most precious thing for her, but he steps inside when she is about to close the door, making her give three steps back. "What are you doing here, Spencer?" she asks, annoyed.

He doesn't answer. The last time he did, it didn't go that well, and he learned his lesson.

He just gives her his journal.

In his walk to, well, nowhere, he went to his apartment and took the journal she gave him to read it while he walked to the dark and cold city.

She takes it confused. Y/n knows the journal well as she was the one who gave it to him. When she is about to ask, he talks first, "Read the first pages," he says.

She opens the journal feeling its hard material, and her fingers move to open it. She looks at the first page where his name is, and then she passes to the other page.

"My mind is complicated, and I have never been good with words. I read the entire dictionary once when I was bored, but all the words that are there aren't enough to explain what I'm feeling right now, what I feel since I first met you. I was too afraid to address what I feel because every time I knowledge my love for someone, they end it up leaving me, and from all the people that have left me, you would hurt the most, and I'm not expecting you to leave me, to be honest, I pray every day even if I'm not a believer of God, so I can still be there for you and you for me.

I have never met someone like you, and you're sitting in front of me right now, and you look beautiful, so perfect that it hurts and it hurts to think that you might not love me the way I do, but I wouldn't be surprised either because someone like you deserves the entire universe, all the stars, and the galaxy in one place so you can watch them every night. I would do anything for you, and if one of those things is to stay back so I can keep you, then I will because loving and the feeling of not being reciprocated is not that painful as losing you.

I suppose I speak from my heart right now. In that case, I'm so afraid of losing you, either because of work or because I was an idiot, that I hope I don’t do anything for you to stay away from me because the love I feel for you is way too intense. Sometimes that love can be hurtful, to watch you walk and just to know you're oblivious of the way my heart feels is too painful or to think you might love someone else, someone more handsome, someone funnier who can actually make funny jokes and not nerdy ones. Someone who can go out with you at every party and dance with you, someone who is truly incredible.

But sometimes, though, I feel like you and I have a connection. We have things in common. We might disagree on things (like the existence of twin flames, something you always talk to me about), but we also have things in common, and I have never met someone who could understand me so well the way you do. And today it's my birthday, and you know what you did? You bought me a replica of the journal I lost. Who couldn't someone love you? You're everything someone could ever ask for.

You're the equal of Mr. Darcy for me, so it might be Elizabeth Bennet then? Yes, you're my Elizabeth Bennet, well, only if you were mine.

Remember when we said we would never write our deepest secrets in our journals because we feared someone else could read them? I don't care if someone reads this unless it's you. If I ever show you this page or you ever find it, please don't leave me because you don't feel the same. I could never live without you.

I'm afraid of losing you."

She looks up with tears in her eyes. Her eyes meeting Spencer's hazel ones full of hot tears as well, he, then, steps closer and takes her hands, kissing them over and over again while he sobs, and she does as well.

"I didn't believe in the existence of twin flames until I met you," he sincerely said, looking deep into her eyes. "You are my twin flame."

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