#you never know when your last moments with them will be

[pucksandpower]

I’m a Feminist

Franco Colapinto x team principal!Reader

Summary: everyone knows that Franco has a thing for older women, okay … so when his team principal turns out to be a (stupidly attractive) older woman, he can’t be held responsible for his actions

Franco sprawls in the chair, arms crossed over his chest like he’s holding court instead of facing an emergency meeting. His grin is wide, cocky even, and wholly unapologetic. Across the desk, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing patience to come like some kind of divine miracle.

“Explain,” you say, voice flat, your tone giving nothing away. You refuse to let him see how utterly exhausted you already are by this conversation.

“I sneezed,” Franco says with a shrug, “and liked all your pictures. Really, it was — how do you say — an accident.”

You stare. No, you glare. "And commented damn mommy on all of them?”

Franco falters — barely. There’s a half-second where his grin wavers, his bravado cracks, but then it’s gone, replaced by another shrug. “I-I have the flu?”

Your exhale is sharp, just shy of a growl. “Franco.”

“What?” He leans forward now, feigning innocence. “Is it so bad? You look muy guapa in your photos. Should I not celebrate my team principal’s beauty? This feels sexist, no?”

“Sexist?” Your eyebrows climb so high they might leave your face.

“I’m a feminist,” he announces, as if that explains everything.

“Do feminists call their bosses ‘mommy’ in the comments?”

“Only the hot ones,” he shoots back without missing a beat, then quickly adds, “Joking! I’m joking.”

You slam your palms down on the desk, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it widens. “Do you even understand how unprofessional this is? I have sponsors asking me if I’ve been hacked! The CEO of Dorilton Capital called me himself this morning!”

Franco’s face lights up like you’ve just paid him a compliment. “Darren! He likes me. He said I was charming.”

“He said you were a walking HR violation!”

His grin falters again, but there’s something annoyingly endearing about how quickly it returns. “Well, at least he talked about me.”

You sink back into your chair and drag a hand through your hair. God, you’re tired. “Do you even know how this looks? You went through every single photo I’ve ever posted. Franco, that’s-”

“Dedicated?”

“Obsessive,” you snap. “Creepy. Insane.”

“Romantic,” he offers, leaning back again like he’s just solved a puzzle.

“You are twenty-one years old!”

“And you’re …” He trails off, letting the sentence dangle in the air like bait.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

He smirks. “I was going to say timeless.”

“Franco, enough.” Your voice is sharp enough to cut through his bravado, and for the first time, he looks a little serious. “Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in? If this gets out-”

“It won’t.”

“It already has! You didn’t think people would notice when every post I’ve made since 2016 suddenly has your username in the likes and comments?”

Franco shrugs. “I’m a fan.”

“A fan?” You throw your hands up. “What are you even a fan of? My press conferences? My sponsor meetings? My ability to yell at you when you ruin your tires on lap seventeen?”

His grin returns, this time with a little more sheepishness. “How sexy you look doing that last one, mostly.”

Your head falls into your hands, and for a moment, there’s silence. You think — foolishly — that maybe he’s finally run out of things to say.

But no.

“You never answered my DM,” he says, voice lighter, teasing.

Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

“Last week,” he says, tilting his head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I sent you a DM. Very respectful. Very sweet.”

“I don’t even check my DMs!”

“Well, now I’m offended.” He places a hand over his heart like he’s genuinely wounded.

“I’m going to lose my job,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Franco says, waving you off. “You’re too good to lose your job. Everyone knows that.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s dramatic! I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re not flattered,” he counters, leaning forward again. “I thought women liked grand gestures.”

“Grand gestures?” You bark out a laugh, humorless and sharp. “Franco, this isn’t a romantic comedy. You don’t win me over by cyberstalking me!”

“Cyberstalking?” His mouth falls open, mock-offended. “That’s harsh, no? I think of it more like … research.”

“Research?”

“Sí. I’m just a very dedicated employee.”

“Dedicated?” Your laugh this time is louder, more incredulous. “I swear to God-”

“Would it help if I apologized?” He interrupts, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering.

“Yes,” you say immediately.

He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you in that unnervingly focused way he sometimes has, the one that makes you feel like he’s cataloging every detail of your expression. “You wouldn’t believe me, though. Even if I apologized, you’d think I was lying.”

“Because you would be lying.”

“Touché.” He grins again, but this time it’s softer, less of a weapon and more of a shield. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry. But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter.

“I mean it,” he says, and for the first time, there’s something like sincerity in his voice. “I thought it was funny. I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem, Franco. You didn’t think.”

There’s a beat of silence. For a second, you think you’ve finally gotten through to him. His expression shifts, the grin fading into something that almost looks like remorse.

Then he says, “But if I had thought about it, you’d still be mad, so really, why bother?”

“Franco!”

He laughs, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more liking your pictures, no more comments, no more DMs. Contenta?”

You eye him warily. “You swear?”

“On my life.”

“Franco.”

“On my seat,” he amends, holding a hand to his chest.

You sigh, long and heavy, but you nod. “Fine. Just — keep your head down for a while, okay? Don’t give anyone else a reason to call me about this.”

He stands, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. “Anything for you … mommy.”

“And don’t call me ‘mommy,’” you snap as he heads for the door.

He pauses, hand on the handle, and glances back over his shoulder, smirk firmly in place. “Not even in private?”

“Franco!”

He’s laughing as he leaves, the sound echoing in the hallway long after the door closes behind him. You sink back into your chair, exhausted, and wonder — not for the first time —if this job is going to kill you.

And if it does, you think grimly, it’ll probably be Franco Colapinto’s fault.

[archangeldyke-all]

Consider the following cuz I think it's funny:

Sevika with a gf who's just... Kinda dumb? Just kinda ditzy and airheaded and it's kind of a miracle that she's still in one piece. Just a bit of a bimbo but goddamn does she love Sevika with everything she has.

-🌙

okay as a blonde who definitely has my fair share of Blonde Moments i love this l;askdjflskj

men and minors dni

sevika loves you so much.

so much.

she would kill for you. she would die for you. she would even wear matching pajamas with you-- that's how much she adores you.

that being said... sevika has to admit that sometimes you can be a little... clueless...

you aren't stupid! you're constantly reading and learning, watching documentaries and sharing interesting scientific facts with sevika. you're a whiz in the kitchen, always making delicious meals and treats, and you're incredible with couponing and keeping your grocery bill within budget. in sevika's eyes, you're one of the smartest people she knows...

but... sometimes...

sometimes, you can be a bit of a ditz.

you're horrible with directions. sevika's watched in horror many times while you hook a right, completely confident that you're headed left.

"babe, the bar's this way."

"you said left!"

"use your hands, babe..."

"...oh." you mumble, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment as you turn around and start headed the correct way. sevika cackles and wraps an arm around you.

"where would you be without me?"

"wandering by the docks, probably."

"the docks are south of here, babe."

"yeah, south." you say, pointing east. sevika groans.

she gifted you a compass keychain for your birthday that year.

you struggle with spelling.

you love to leave sevika little love notes-- and she adores them! but sometimes, your notes have the unintended consequence of making sevika cackle while she tries to interpret your unique spelling. 'sevika, i've never been able to be so intimidate with somebody before...'

she teases you for the rest of the night about how intimidating you are together.

sometimes, sevika really wonders how you made it through life without her there.

like when you're behind the bar at the last drop making change for a twenty, and you hand the customer six fives.

"baby, that's thirty!" sevika squawks, smacking your hand before you can hand the man the money."

"what? no, babe, six times five." you say, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

"six times five is thirty, baby." sevika says slowly.

you groan and bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. sevika giggles and wraps you up in a hug, handing the man four bills and kissing your scalp.

"i'm an idiot." you groan.

"sometimes, yeah." sevika agrees. you gasp and elbow her, glaring at her. sevika giggles. "but the rest of the time you're smart! and i'm usually here to help before you can get yourself into any dumb trouble..."

"whatever. you're dumb too!" you say, pointing at sevika. she laughs.

"i am not!"

"you thought i hated you for months before we started going out." you say. sevika cackles.

"i didn't get why you kept looking at me!"

"'cause you're hot!"

sevika grins. "okay, i'm a little dumb emotionally. good thing i got you to balance me out, huh?" she asks.

you grin and kiss her. "you bet your ass."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[lalchimiedecupid]

it's all fun and games until I start hating you and I hit you with a large ass essay that expresses my frustration and exhaustion with your neglect and the hurt you've caused me.

Exemple:

To my dearest boy who broke my heart and left it to pieces with one missing shard in hand that keeps it from healing:

Love. A vile and twisted thing you remain in my eyes. For I have never loved someone and got to keep them in my heart for all eternity. It seems like the universe, God, have odd ways of pulling their strings when it comes to love, slow, torturous and often unexpected goodbyes grace us at the end.

It's been six months since you left me. Six long and excruciating months, and I can not put into words the disdain I feel towards you. Yet, I find myself staring longingly at you, find my heart racing at your mere sighting. You've become a dependency of mine, destructive yet fulfilling like the crimson drink I drown myself in. Like the pills I abused my body, my organs and my mind with. You'd bring me a sense of Euphoria, but what did it leave me with once your presence was gone? Pain. So much pain I can not even manage to put it into words. You were my oxygen. My will. My life. My sin and my soul. You were all that I needed. You were all that I wanted and still want even more. What should I call it? Soulmates who were never meant to be? Right person wrong time? Strangers to friends, friends into lovers and what now, strangers again? How low do I have to stoop down in order to make you want me again? I know you still want me, I can see it in your lingering eyes, yet you offer me silence and silence all over again. What did you do to me? What more could you possibly want from me? How much do you want to see me beg and try to make it up to you for all the hurtful words you've heard from my friends? How many "I'm sorry" do you want to hear fall from my lips and seem to always land onto deaf ears? What more do you want from me? Why do you ignore me again when you promised to be my friend? Was I not enough for you? Is it that hard to forget the girl you wanted beforehand? I know I am delusional to hold onto a love that clearly has perished long ago, but please for the love of God, let me cry into your arms for the first and last time so I can truly let you go. Let me sob my heart and guts out to you just for a few moments at least, I do not ask for more. Let me confess my desires , my dreams, my secrets and my pain to you. Even if they shall fall onto those ears of yours that you turn deaf on me every single time I try to get your attention. Let me. Please, allow me this. Let me find solace in your embrace even if it's cold and unwanted. I'd get down on my knees for you and let you kill me with your coldness. Let you freeze my heart and devour it whole if only a piece of me gets to be held by you, my darling boy. You have reduced me to a ghost of the strong woman I once were. And I am ashamed of myself for it, yet I can not even blame you for my downfall, because despite it all, I was an accomplice as well. Destroy me for all you want , I'll always come crawling back to you, with all my broken parts and my gaping wounds, bleeding into your own hands.

Just one last embrace is all I ask of you. I know you'd refuse me more. You cruel bastard. You heartless devil.

Go on and destroy me and watch me build back my pieces only to destroy me again. Go on and ruin me. Go on and put unnecessary distance between the both of us, because you are far too much of a coward to face the truth.

The truth is that you want me but are far too afraid of commitment, of new beginnings that you'd rather stick to the past and hope for the best. Hurt me. Hurt me all you want, but you'd never rebuke me from my church. From my sanctum, from your arms, from your hold. Rebuke me for my sins of loving you but know that I still hold you in high regards, that I still pray for your well-being, for your success, and your future. Know that against all odds..

I still love you.

—C.A

oh to be loved by a poet … 🎀

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: 𝔸𝕡𝕣è𝕤 𝕊𝕜𝕚

𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜𝙱𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: swearing, drinking, angst, mutual pining, cheating, public sex, sex in a hot tub, multiple positions, fingering, unprotecyed p in v, creampie, spanking, oral (male receiving), backshots, rough oral, pet names, dirty talk

📖 Your twin sister’s boyfriend is so hot… A family trip to Breckenridge leaves plenty of tension between you and Rafe

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

You stare out the château window, watching powdery snow swirl under the deck lights. Breckenridge is serene—stunning this time of year, but it’s almost impossible to enjoy now; your twin sister Sophie is testing you nearly every free moment since you arrived.

You take a sip of spiked cider, letting the warmth rush through you, hoping it will numb the frustration. Sophie was the perfect one—the angel. Or so everyone says so. Your mom and dad dote over her, and they always have, Sophie… So sweet and studious, so thoughtful and kind-

”Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Rafe asks from the kitchen as he lifts the sink handle, drawing a glass of water, a teasing edge to his voice, bullying you and your sister in the same comment. You, for going out when your parents hoped you’d be like your sister, winding down for the night. While also knocking your sister for being such a wet blanket, already in bed at 8:30 on a Friday night…

“Mhmm… Probably,” you hum, your breath making the steam from your cup roll over the edge.

“Shouldn’t you?” You ask, making him smile and nod. He brings the glass to his lips, takes a sip, and walks toward the dark hallway.

“Touché,” he mumbles against the rim of his glass. “You goin’ somewhere?”

You look over your shoulder, seeing Rafe standing there in nothing but a pair of black sweats on his muscular body, his hair damp and cut body still dewy from his shower, making your heart flutter.

“Thinkin’ about it,” you smile.

“Who with?” He asks curiously.

“Well, not you two…” You scoff. “Thanks for ditching me.” His lips draw to the side, opening his mouth to speak but you start again. “Think I might meet up with those guys we saw at lunch. They seemed fun.”

“Guys?” He asks, failing miserably at hiding his jealousy.

“Mhmm… They’re still at the resort, so I might meet them up the hill or maybe downtown. We’ll see,” you hum as you gesture to your phone as a new notification rolls in.

He nods, looking down the hallway before looking back at you. “Well, uh… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you sing as you pull up the text thread, watching from the corner of your eyes as Rafe’s stay on yours until the last moment.

You hear another set of feet pad down the hallway, lighter than your parents. They stop, and you hear the soft, sweet peck of a kiss, making your eyes roll.

Here we go.

Your sister steps into the kitchen, opening the cupboard to grab a glass for herself. She follows in Rafe's footsteps, filling the glass with water, but her gaze is not nearly as kind.

Your eyes shift to her, then back to your phone; your sister saying so much with just a glance. Why do you go out so much? Why are you wearing that? Are you drinking again?

Admittedly, you stalked his social media account… He was fun before he met her. He's the kind of guy who might go out for a drink at 8:30 on a Friday night on vacation without feeling like the whole world will come crashing down around him the next morning.

What did she do to deserve Rafe?

There has always been tension between you… and Rafe just made it worse.

She can see it too—see how he looks at you even though she would never admit it herself…

“Goodnight,” she mumbles as she walks back toward her bedroom. You bite your lip, feeling jealous that she gets to do that, knowing she’ll probably go in there, flick off the lights, and shut her eyes… Maybe they’ll cuddle and chat, but they’re not going to do half of the shit you’d do… The kind of shit that you dream about. The things you know he thinks about, too, and each lingered stare highlights that.

It all started on the Fourth of July, the first time Sophie brought him home. He was taken aback. Of course, he knew you’d look alike, but you don’t think he ever dreamed of how you would differ; you, filling in all the spaces he wished she’d fill. Sophie is all sugar and softness, the model girlfriend and idyllic daughter. But she’s too perfect. Her edges are too smooth. He couldn’t stop stealing glances… It was intoxicating. And impossible to forget.

The downtown area is bustling, filled with people winding down after a long day of skiing. You belly up to the bar at Après Ski, hanging out with the people you told Rafe you’d meet, but your thoughts are still on him.

Even if he were here, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy yourself; you wouldn’t be able to talk to him freely with Sophie there. She would cut you down at every chance, telling stories that would surely embarrass you if she felt even the slightest tension build between you… Maybe it was for the best that he isn't...

You look at your phone, catching the time: 11:37 PM… Pulling up the UBER app, you follow the long list of options and settle on the best: reaching out to your mom to pick you up instead. Well, not her…

A quick text to your mom, a lie about no available UBERs for an hour, and a wicked surcharge. The timing was strategic, too, knowing that when you left for the night, your mom and dad had popped a bottle of red wine—the two of them having a glass or two—And, much like their daughter, a single glass of wine and driving was out of the question. Who would they have to ask? Rafe Cameron…

The rental car rolls to a stop before the bar, and your heart jumps in your chest. You hurry outside, walking down the snow-plowed sidewalk, body shivering from the winter cold.

You open the passenger's side door and slide in; your body instantly hugged in the car's heat and the warmth radiating off him.

“Hey,” you smile, keeping your tone light, not trying to give yourself away completely. “Thanks for comin’. I was-”

"Stranded?" He asks as he lifts his eyebrow, lip quirking in a smirk as he turns on his blinker, blockaded in a sea of UBERs.

“Completely,” you smile, biting back a little laugh. You're caught in your little lie in the first few seconds, but again, maybe it’s for the best.

Instead of calling you out, he just gives a short nod and eases onto the road, heading back towards your place. Silence settles over the two of you, thick with the tension of everything you aren’t saying.

Snow drifts across the dark road, headlights illuminating the space before you as you barrel through the dark Colorado night. Rafe reaches down, turning up the radio slightly. The song swelling in the car, with its sultry beat and lyrics making that pressure even more palpable.

You cross your legs in your sweater dress, letting the skirt ride up the fullness of your thighs. From the corner of your eyes, you watch Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, knuckles turning white.

He throws his gaze down for a moment, looking at you sitting pretty in your seat before returning to the road ahead. With that, a hot wave of satisfaction rolls over you.

“Uh…” Rafe’s deep utterance rumbles in his throat. “Did you, umm… Did you run into those guys from the hill?” He asks, begging the question he’s wanted to ask since he picked you up.

“Mhmm,” you smile.

You lean over to fiddle with the heater controls, purposely shifting closer. Your bare thigh grazes the center console; Rafe’s eyes linger on your bare skin yet again.

“You weren’t able to sleep?” You ask curiously as you turn slightly to the side, resting your head against the seat, giving him your sole focus. Rafe takes a deep breath and turns to you before snapping his gaze back to the road. You look down at your body, watching the way the v-neck of your dress sits even lower at this angle, your perfect tits pressed together.

“I couldn’t relax,” he responds, his voice tight and hoarse. Rafe looks at you again, double-taking, not even trying to be subtle.

"Well, maybe I can help you relax," you suggest lightly.

His breath catches. He forces his eyes back to the road, clearing his throat. "Wha-What?" He questions through a breathy laugh, wondering if those seven words just left your mouth or if he’s dreaming it.

"You must be tired, Rafe," you say softly. "Long day, and now you're chauffeuring me." You rest your hand on his big bicep, squeezing him. “Thank you, by the way...”

He laughs and shakes his head, picking up on the blatant seduction—every part of his being craving more. You bite your lip and smile.

He likes this game.

As you lay back on the seat again, the song changes, and you roll your body slightly to the music. You sing the next line. Rafe lets out a deep, sexually frustrated laugh as he drums his thumbs on the wheel.

“You are somethin’ else, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice taunt. His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, jaw clenched tight as he fights himself from looking for the nth time. "Why are you doin’ all this?"

"Doing what?" You ask dumbly as you turn your focus back to him, letting the cozy knit material of your dress tug down your shoulder a bit, highlighting yet another piece of bare skin he’s never seen before.

He gives a low, humorless laugh and scoffs. Rafe has tried to stay focused on the tree-lined drive before, but his self-control is fleeting. He exhales a sharp breath, seconds away from losing it altogether. "You know exactly what you're doing. Don’t you, princess?"

Princess? You tilt your head as he pulls into the dark driveway.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” you breathe.

“No… No, you do,” he responds teasingly.

"Maybe,” you whisper as he shuts off the car.

“You gonna go to bed or what?” He asks chastely, trying to hold on to his last shred of resolve, grasping, trying to derail his own thoughts.

“I might stay up, maybe have a drink, watch a movie maybe,” you mumble as you pull your phone out of your purse, pulling up a text chain between you and one of the guys.

“Who… Uh,” he blurts the second he sees the other guy's name across the top of your screen. “Who are you talkin’ to now?”

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, giving him a knowing glance. “Zach… He wasn’t able to come out tonight. I was just going to see if he wanted to come over and watch a movie or go out in the hot tub or something. Is that okay?” You ask teasingly.

He looks back at the house, fixing his face, and then down to the time on the clock. You watch his reaction closely; more than a flicker of jealousy… Anger too. ”Isn’t it kinda late?” He rasps.

“Alright, Sophie,” you knock.

Rafe's stare hardens on yours. "I mean, you don’t really know him-"

You turn toward him again, looking at him square in the eye. “You’ve never just hooked up with someone, Rafe? Sometimes you can just do somethin’ to have a good time… Why are you actin’ so serious? Don’t you ever just want to fuck?”

“I mean… Of course,” he murmurs, his mind a flurry of thoughts: jealousy, envy, lust.

”But you’re probably right… It’s probably too late.” You watch as his muscles soften, shoulders falling slightly. “I mean, the offer is still there for you…” You smile, letting your words drift off. Rafe’s eyebrows pinch together, wondering if that offer includes just the movie and the hot tub or the hookup, too.

You giggle and roll your eyes, keeping it vague on purpose, just to fuck with him. The two of you know full well you mean all three; Rafe, still unable to acknowledge that, playing dumb to his better judgment.

His lips part, but no words come out. A faint flush creeps across his cheeks. Neither of you speaks for a moment, letting the tension twist tighter.

Rafe lets out a sigh of relief as you slide your phone back into your purse, leaving Zach on read for the moment. He takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his emotions. "We should get inside."

The two of you walk inside the house, stripping yourselves out of your shoes and Rafe out of his puffy coat.

You walk past him, brushing up against him slightly as you move to the coat hook, catching your purse around the knob before tucking your shoes away. “Goodnight, Rafe,” you smile. “Thank you.”

”Of course,” he whispers as he turns his body toward you, making you slow slightly as he hangs up his jacket as well.

He looks down at you, following the contact, moving into it. “Rafe…” You breathe, hearing his breath hitch his name leaves your lips.

“Yeah, baby…”

Baby? Shit… "Are you sure you don't want to stay here for a minute?" You ask as you take yet another step closer.

He licks his lips, his beautiful blue eyes reflective before he hangs his head a little more. “I’m not sure about anything right now,” he mumbles weakly. Rafe turns his cheek, moving closer, the warmth of his breathing hitting your neck, making your body buzz from head to toe. “… But Sophie-”

”We don’t need to talk about her…” You silence him before he can finish his thought.

Rafe inhales as you rest your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath. You slide your hand higher, hooking it around his neck before your eyes meet again. He gives up control, leaning in the rest of the way, fighting back for a moment, and right when you think he’s about to commit, he buries himself in your neck, pressing his lips against your skin.

The kiss never truly happens, his lips brushing against the soft warmth of your neck. But the contact sends a sudden surge of adrenaline through your veins regardless. Your pulse pounds rapidly, thumping in your head as Rafe jerks back, looking down at you with a mixture of longing and regret, ebbing and flowing between the two.

“I—” he breathes, his voice thick and heavy. “I can’t... not here. Not like this. Alright?” He talks more to himself as he anxiously runs his fingers through his hair, pushing out a shaky breath.

“Okay,” you whisper, stepping around him before he can say anymore, heading toward the living room, Rafe clearly hoping you’d put up more of a fight. It’s empty; everyone’s asleep for the night. You walk to the sliding glass door and hear Rafe’s heavy footsteps along the hardwood floor.

Rafe steps into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water just like he did earlier in the night, waiting for what you’ll do next. You reach for the bottom of your sweater dress, pulling it over your head, leaving yourself in your lace bra and thong.

You hear him fumble some grumbled words past his lips, catching your attention. You turn over your shoulder, watching as his gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the thighs, your hips, your ass.

His eyes land on yours, and he clears his throat, pushing down the lump with a sip of water. You give him a little nod, no more, no less, as you grab the door handle, gliding it open.

You test the water with your toe—slipping into the hot tub, steam curling around you, leaving you sighing in relief. The jets and hot water knead and melt away your tension from the day, though your mind continues to churn.

You replay it all… All of the frustrating moments flashing through your mind: Rafe’s watchful eye on you all day, the bar-night ditching, the car ride, the near-kiss in the hallway, the way his gaze nearly devoured you in the kitchen just moments before.

Your eyes flash open, head cocking slightly as you notice Sophie’s bedroom blinds drawn open. A shadow shifts along the glass—catching Rafe’s movements. You raise your hand, waving at him teasingly, and he falls out of view just like that.

You roll your eyes and shut them again, trying to relax, but it’s useless.

Buzz.

Your phone buzzes on the hot tub’s edge, and the screen lights up with a new notification.

Rafe: hey

You: hey

You: Still can’t sleep?

Rafe: No

You: You should stop staring at your phone, then… Shut your eyes and go to sleep.

Rafe: cmon

You: What?

Rafe: I can’t get you out of my head.

Your wet fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart thumping hard.

You: What are you going to do about it?

You look at the screen, watching the typing bubbles pop up at the bottom, then disappear, only to start again.

Rafe: Nothing I should.

Rafe: But I can’t stop thinkin about you

You: Then stop pretending.

Rafe: its not that simple

You: it shouldnt be that hard

You: What if I told you I think about you too?

Rafe: I’d say I already fuckin knew.

You: Cocky much?

Rafe: Only when I’m right.

You bite your lip, look at the window, and then return to your phone.

Rafe: If shit was different, I’d already be with you.

That single line sent a shiver through you, and for a second, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You draw a deep breath, wondering what you should say next…

You: So make shit different.

You look at your phone, waiting for a message to form, but it doesn’t come. The little clock ticks away, leaving you feeling like you did in the hallway when he dodged your kiss.

Rafe: You’re going to ruin me You know that?

You: You want me to apologize Rafe?

Twenty minutes… You roll your eyes, killing the jets, letting the hot water still. The snow falls around you, melting just above the water, chilling your shoulders as it sprinkles your balmy skin.

Creak.

You look toward the sliding glass door, wide-eyed as you see him. Rafe steps a little closer. The ripples of his cut abs and V-lines cast little shadows on his tight stomach. He doesn’t have a swimsuit; this choice was probably a last-minute decision, leaving his body hugged in his black Calvin Klien briefs.

Your pulse spikes as you take in the details—eyes drawn to the gold chain glinting on his chest with each rapid, nervous breath he takes, his gaze unwavering.

"You changed your mind," you say softly.

"I couldn't.." Rafe exhales shakily. "I tried not to."

Your heart flips as he moves closer to the tub. His gaze travels over your wet skin, pausing your tits to meet the water; the rest of your body lingering just below. His big hands rest on the edge, squeezing tightly, still trying to hold himself back.

"We need to talk,” he mumbles, his voice just above a hush.

"About what?" You whisper as you turn your body toward him, chest to chest, resting your knees on the tub seat as he stands just outside. He groans as his hands fall from your eyes to your lips, down your perfect body dripping with water.

“About us… What’s goin’ on… Your fucking sist-”

”Stop,” you plead, cutting him off before he can finish. “Just don’t…”

His pupils are blown wide, lips parted, body tilting in closer and closer. His fingers thread into your wet hair as chills spread across your body, your breath catching in your chest.

When your mouths meet, everything else falls away. The kiss is hot and desperate. The warmth makes the winter cold around you disappear. Your heart pounds in your chest, keeping time with his. Rafe cups your cheeks in his big hands, pulling you closer as you lead him into the steaming water.

Your lips move in unison, tongues sliding against each other, teasing and rolling as his rough hands squeeze your body. “Fuck,” he moans as the warmth of the water surrounds you both, Rafe pulling you through the water onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. He holds you tightly, hands taking two fistfuls of ass, guiding you to grind on top of him. “You drive me crazy,” he pants between sloppy kisses.

“Mmm…” You moan in his mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” you pant, and he pulls away, leaving you gasping for breath. Your lungs fill with a blend of the heat of the tub and the winter bite. He presses his forehead against yours, hands still on you, coaching you to rock on his stiff bulge.

Rafe doesn't hesitate this time. His mouth crashes onto yours again, hands roaming your curves as the steamy water laps at your back. He looks back at you, half-lidded, lips swollen; desperate for more. “What can’t you stop thinking about?” He asks, making you gasp as he presses his big hand against your pussy. His other arm wraps around your waist, your bra clinging to your skin; it leaves you feeling like nothing’s between you until he unclips it fully. The wet bra floats to the surface and you throw it over the edge as Rafe tugs down his boxers, doing the same.

“This… Being with you, fucking you, being yours, Rafe. I think about it all...”

Rafe’s eyes meet yours—his lust-hazed gaze falling down what he can see of your body. “Me too…” His hands reach where he can’t see, traveling lower and lower until his fingers curl around the band of your thong, tugging it away from your skin.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you rise in the water, stepping closer, your tits eye-level with Rafe’s face as he tugs when down.

He nuzzles into your chest, grabbing your breasts in his big hands before pressing them together, sucking down on your nipples as your hands wrap around his neck, skimming through his hair.

"Fuck, you look beautiful, princess," he sighs.

"So do you, Rafe…”

“What are you gonna let me do to you, baby?” He pants as he pulls you to him again.

You lean into him, lips brushing against his ear, moaning as you feel the friction on his hard cock, nudging against your aching clit with each roll of your hips. “Are you gonna let me suck your cock,” you smile.

"You're gonna choke on that shit, princess. Of course I am,” he hums, quickly clearing his throat as he listens to those filthy words flow so easily from his lips.

“You sure, baby? It’s really cold,” you whisper as you wrap your fingers around his dick, making him groan, tossing his head back, only for you to suck down on his neck.

“Oh, shit-” He huffs excitedly like it’s been a long time, making you smile. “You’d do that shit out here?” He asks as he looks from side to side, darkness all around you, but the rental isn’t remote; lit châteaus poke through the trees on all three sides, on top of the fact that your entire family is asleep just feet away, to one of them his girlfriend; your sister no less.

“I would,” you smile as you lean in, tits grazing the top of the water, making chills spread across your body. “Or I can just do this?” You whisper against his lips as you continue to stroke.

“Mpfhh—No… No, baby,” he groans. “I need your lips around me. Can't fuckin’ take it.”

Rafe grabs your body fast, swirling you through the water, switching positions, leave you sitting on the bench as he stands before you. You look up at him through your wet lashes as you wrap your hands around his body, nails clawing into his ass, guiding his cock to your lips.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, Rafe’s long, thick dick resting just above the water, curving slightly up to his rock-hard stomach. Your wrap your hands around the base, pulling to the tip, watching a bead of precum pearl out of his slit. You lean in nice and slow, flicking your tongue up the seam on him, making him bite his lips to stiffen a moan.

Chills flare across his muscular body, you, so caught up in the moment and distracted with the beautiful man before you that you already forgot about the winter winds whipping around you.

“Please, princess,” he groans, the darkness in his eyes letting you know that, for the moment, he’s forgotten as well. All he wants is what you promised and what he said would happen. He wants you to choke on it.

You look up at Rafe’s, tracing his messy tip against your lips, licking them, making him moan; that sound gets swallowed up in a deeper sound as you wrap your lips around his dick fully, bringing him deep in your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Rafe smiles as you start to bob around his length, taking as much of him as you can get. “Can’t believe you’re doin’ this shit,” he smiles devilishly, looking around for anyone else before turning his focus back to you.

Rafe rests his ringed hands on your cheeks, giving you a few shallow thrusts, marveling at your trained gag reflux before pushing you further, making you choke on his cock again and again.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mumbles as he reaches his thumb up, tracing it under your eyes, catching some tears as they fall, bringing it up to his lips before sucking, checking if you were really crying from sucking him off so good. His eyes roll back in his skull, dick throbbing on your tongue as he praises you.

Rafe presses you down; his tip kisses the back of your throat, making you gag again. He releases your head, but you continue to work. "Good fucking god," he moans, chuckling sinfully.

You wrap your fingers around his dick as well, stroking as you suck, making his big muscles tremble. You fuss around his cock, the vibrations making his jaw tighten as he realizes just how much pleasure you’re getting from having his heavy dick in your mouth as well.

“You like the is shit, huh? Fuck, you’re so good—shit, you’re good at this, princess,” he hums.

Your jaw starts to ache as you deep-throat his length; Rafe’s so blissed out by the sight of you, trying his hardest to hold back his pleasure, fighting off his climax for the fear that this shit might never happen again, not wanting to lose this feeling.

“No… Fuck,” he grunts as he tosses his head back to the night sky, taking a grip on the back of your head suddenly. “Gonna… Goddamnit. I’m gonna cum, princess. You don’t have to swallow it. Alright?” Just—Just… Fuckk,” he moans as you pull him out of your mouth fast. Fisting him two times before he’s cumming with a deep groan, painting your face with ropes and ropes of warm cum.

He looks down at you mesmerized, staring at you like you’re his favorite fucking thing in existence as you lift your finger to your cheek, running it through the mess before slipping it through your lips, sucking before releasing your finger with an exaggerated pop, only to do it again.

You sink in the water, going all the way under before coming back out, pawing the hot from your hair as he looks back at you, still stunned and silent.

Rafe stands chest to chest with you, panting as he looks in your eyes. “Do I even need to say it?” He asks as he wraps his big arms around your body, bringing your lips to his. You give him a knowing glance, and he nods and bites his lip. “Best blow job of my fuckin’ life.”

“Yeah?” You ask with a slight tilt, making him nod down at you fast. You wrap your fingers around his pulsing dick, making Rafe hiss and groan as he looks down at you. Waiting for what you’ll say, wanting to go so much further with you.

You wrap your slight hand around his wrist with a smile, guiding him between your legs. “Mmm… Shit. You sure, pretty?” he mumbles.

“Stop asking, Rafe…” You whisper. “We both want the same thing.”

“Yeah?” He asks smugly as he slips his fingers through your folds, swirling over your clit, before moving a little lower. You whimper against Rafe’s lips as he pushes in one finger, then another, curling them inside you, making you throw your arms around his big shoulders.

“Fuck you make some pretty sounds, princess,” he mumbles as he thrusts his fingers into your cunt again and again, each utterance fleeing your lips more desperate than the last “They’re leaving for an early run tomorrow… I’m gonna tell her I’m not feelin’ too good,” he whispers warmly against your neck as his thumb finds your pearl, rubbing on top. “M’gonna have you screamin’. Shit… You gonna be a good girl and get loud for me?” He asks. “You’re a fuckin’ screamer… I can tell.”

“Yes, daddy-”

Sexual tension fills the space around you as he lives in that title for a moment, chuckling darkly as he replays it in his mind again. “What did you just call me?” He hums hot against your skin. “Say that shit again…” He whispers against your neck as he bites down on your skin, making you release a breathy cry for more. The thin band in your belly tightens, threatening to snap with just a little more.

“Daddy…” Your lips lock with his, Rafe swallowing moan after moan from you. Your body trembles from the pleasure coursing through your system and the cold winter chill whipping against your naked body; Rafe’s bare frame is the only thing keeping you warm.

“Let me cum on your cock,” you whisper, and before you can react, he flips you fast, pushing you to clutch the edge of the hot tub as he traces his fat tip through your folds just enough for a little extra slick before slamming inside, making your head fall forward. He doesn’t let you adjust, knowing you were close, wanting to get you off a few times if he had the chance.

You look back over your shoulder, watching Rafe’s gaze trace over your curves as it always does, following the arc of your spine, watching the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each smack of his toned hips. His brows knit tight as he sees your drenched cunt pulling him in, his cock dragging back all shiny and wet with you.

Rafe pushes on your lower back, making you arch even more, hitting that perfect spot, making your muscles quake, hand fastened over your mouth to hold back your cries of bliss. “Fuck, Rafe. I’m cumming,” you whine as you throw yourself back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Mmm… Just slow down, princess. Shit—Shittt. Not ready to cum yet,” he grumbles. “Pussy’s too good… Fuck.”

His fingers dig into your plush ass, emptying his load deep into your fluttering cunt, but he doesn’t stop. He barely acknowledges it, though the look on his beautiful face is a dead giveaway. He just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again—screaming his name as your pretty pussy bounces on top of him.

Rafe pulls you off his dick with a shuddering breath, the man barely able to form a word, just tugging you where he wants you as his cum drips from your puffy hole. He pushes his lips against yours, kissing you breathlessly, letting his tongue slip between your lips.

“Did you cum?” You ask with a smile.

“One more,” he huffs. “Wanna get you off one more time.”

“Rafe…” You giggle.

“Maybe… Maybe I fuckin’ did. Alright? Told you… Pussy’s too goddamn good. Just use it as lube, baby. C’mon,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again.

He rests his elbows on the side of the tub, his pulsing dick sticking out of the water. You turn around, poking your back out, hands dragging up your ass.

"Such a fuckin’ tease,” he laughs breathily, letting his hand come down on your ass with a rough crack.

“Yeah, Mr. Comin’ out in the living room to flirt with me… Without a shirt on?” You tease. “And that’s just today.”

“Yeah. Yeah… You got me there,” he sighs as he grips your ass, pulling you apart enough to watch his cum roll out of your slick hole.

He keeps his eyes locked on your pussy, catching his release on his swollen tip before pushing inside again. "Ugh... Fuck," he grunts as you start to bounce.

You move your hands to his knees, working Rafe’s cock a little quicker. Gliding him in and out of your tight pussy. "J-Jesus Christ," he mumbles as you roll your hips in a circle on his tip. Moving lower, you take him completely, all of Rafe, every motherfucking inch, as you grind your ass on his lap.

Rafe’s big arms started to tremble, holding himself up, his hips just out of the water, but he wanted to watch his creamy release work in and out.

He grabs your hip, pulling you even closer, slamming you down on his cock as little whimpers and cries slip your lips, sounds you couldn’t hold back if you tried.

“M’So close,” Rafe, you squeal as you you work yourself quicker, bouncing up and down on his cock, your body slapping against him as the shallow water sloshes around you.

Rafe stands up fast, wrapping his arms around your hip, fingers finding your clit, rubbing quickly, pushing you over the edge. You let out a pathetic cry; Rafe’s hand quickly covers your mouth, silencing you, holding his palm over your lips, muffling your moans as you cum around his big cock.

Rafe tucks himself in your neck, muscles clenching tightly as he empties himself into you again, twitching with the last remnants of his orgasm, breathing heavily into your ear. You look back at him breathlessly as he releases a deep, satisfied sigh, pulling you back into the water.

Rafe presses a kiss against your temple and then another, holding you close as he slumps a little deeper into the hot tub with you held close in his arms.

The two of you lose track of time-kissing, touching, letting the vapor swirl around you. You look up at the sky, watching the snowflakes dance down from the darkness, the winter chill letting you know you can’t stay out here forever.

When you look back at Rafe, his beautiful blue eyes are on yours, filled with anxiety. You cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs across the slight stubble. "We can't go back from this, baby," he rasps. “I don’t want to pretend like this didn’t happen-”

"Then don't,” you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers scratching into his wet hair. “We don’t have to talk about it right now…”

“Tomorrow?” he asks, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that he doesn’t want to push this aside. This isn’t a one-time thing. He wants this just as much as you do, and he’s willing to wade through the drama sooner rather than later.

“It’s going to be a mess…” You whisper.

“Yeah… I’ll be worth it for you,” he assures, his gentle rasp heard just over the steady whooshing of the jets.

“I agree.”

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[playnextdoor]

im sick

summary: vi helps you when your sick

cw: mentions and descriptions of throw/throwing up for my emetophobes, mentions of food that caused said sickeness lol, domestic (?) vi, she is very sweet yay, this is very short

You jolt awake, drenched in sweat, the taste of bile pooling in your mouth. For a moment, everything feels blurry until the sudden urgency hits you. You barely notice Vi sprawled out beside you as you clumsily crawl over her and bolt for the bathroom. The commotion stirs her instantly.

“Hey—wait, what’s wrong?” she calls out groggily, already moving to follow you.

By the time she reaches the bathroom, you’re hunched over the toilet, your hands gripping the porcelain as your body convulses. The sound of you retching echoes off the tiles.

“Shit,” Vi mutters, panic lacing her voice as she turns and rushes out of the room. She’s back in seconds with a towel and a glass of water, setting them on the counter before kneeling beside you. Her calloused hands are gentle as they push stray hairs away from your damp face. “Let it out, babe,” she murmurs, her other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “You’re okay. Just let it out.”

Your body heaves one last time before the sickness leaves. Gasping for air, you shakily reach for her hand. She’s already there, steady and solid, helping you stand. Without a word, she dampens the towel and gently wipes your face, her touch so careful.

“I think it was that burger we had earlier,” you croak, wincing as you rinse your mouth out at the sink.

Vi watches you closely, her brows furrowed with concern. “Yeah… probably. You’ve been off all day.” Her voice is quieter now, as though speaking too loud might overwhelm you.

You stare into the mirror, water dripping down your face. Tiny red dots bloom under your eyes, blood vessels burst from the force of throwing up, a grim reminder of how your body puts so much force in this thing you would avoid any day.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” you whisper, voice shaky.

She shakes her head, stepping closer. “Don’t apologize. Drink some water.” Her hand cups your damp face as she raises the glass to your lips, her thumb brushing over the faint red freckles on your cheek. She watches you drink slowly, watches you wince as the bitter aftertaste of bile fades under the coolness of the water.

“I know you hate throwing up,” she says softly, her eyes never leaving yours.

You nod, managing a weak smile before your stomach churns again. “Too soon,” you mutter, and before you can stop yourself, you’re back at the toilet.

Vi is there in an instant, one arm wrapping around you to keep you steady as the other supports your weight. “it’s okay,” she whispers, even as your body shakes violently. “I got you.”

When it’s finally over, you slump against her, tears and snot streaking down your face. You’re a mess, and you know it. You hate when she sees you like this.

“I should’ve warned you…” you mumble through ragged breaths.

“Hey, stop that,” she cuts in, her voice firm but kind. She helps you to your feet again, guiding you back to the sink to rinse your mouth before coaxing more water down your throat. This time, she waits, watching you carefully to make sure you’re not about to hurl again.

When you finally make it back to bed, you collapse into the sheets, still trembling. “Stay with me,” you whisper, the words soft and desperate.

She grins, trying to lighten the mood. “Like I’d go anywhere.”

Before you can reply, she’s yanking the thick blanket from beneath you and tucking it snugly around your body, cocooning you in a makeshift burrito. Your head and feet poke out from the folds, and you pout up at her as she adjusts the edges.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she teases, pulling out a warm compress and placing it gently on your forehead. “You need to rest.”

“But I want to kiss you,” you whisper, your lips curling into a weak pout.

Vi smirks, leaning in close, her breath brushing against your cheek. “You’re cute, but also gross. I don’t need whatever you have.”

You groan, turning your head away, trapped in your blanket prison as she crawls into bed beside you. Her messy pink hair spills across the pillow, and the sight of her, so effortlessly beautiful even now, makes your chest ache.

“I’m sorry…” you murmur again, your voice soft as you glance at her.

She chuckles, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose. “No more burgers,” she whispers, settling in beside you and pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“No more burgers,” you agree, letting your eyes flutter shut as her warmth seeps into you.

a/n: i wrote this to help me cope that i have no one taking care of while i threw up my insides last night. yeah.

[chancloud8]

PART 10.

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series masterlist

series summary: you catsit for lee know while he's on tour and unexpectedly develop a relationship with him through texting him about his cats

pairing: lee know x reader

chapter tags: smau written chapter, fluff, making out

Room 98. 

With your heart beating loudly in your chest you stuff your phone in your purse and lift your hand to knock on the door. Before your fist can even touch the wood, the door is pulled open and you’re standing face to face with the man you’ve been talking to every day for the last few weeks. 

Minho is just how you remember him. Tall, lean and insanely beautiful. His black hair is hanging over his forehead, the strands reaching just under his eyes on either side of his face and his gorgeous brown eyes are staring at you so intensely, you actually feel your knees grow weak. 

‘Hey,’ you whisper. 

‘Hi,’ he says back, his voice soft. ‘You’re here.’ 

‘I’m here,’ you parrot, your lips curling up in a smile. 

He seems to realize then that you’re still standing out in the hallway and he steps back, gesturing for you to come inside. You shuffle past him, getting a whiff of his cologne as you do. Your suitcase rolls behind you and you quickly set it aside and drop your purse on top of it, eager to turn towards Minho again. 

He’s there when you do, his arms already open and you waste no time stepping into them. Minho wraps his arms around your body as pulls you against his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. You fit against him like a puzzle piece and for a moment the two of you just stand there in silence. 

‘I thought you were going to jump me?’ Minho says then, breaking the silence. 

You laugh against his chest and swat against his back with the palm of your hand. 

‘All thoughts kind of left my brain there for a minute,’ you admit to him, not moving from your position in his arms. 

‘Hmm, I’ve been told I have that effect,’ Minho teases, his lips grazing your hair as he speaks. 

‘I bet,’ you let out a giggle, tightening your arms around his waist. ‘Glad to know you’re the same tease in real life.’ 

Minho chuckles, his chest vibrating against your cheek. ‘I wouldn’t want to disappoint.’ 

You slowly relax your hold of him to pull back a little, wanting to see his face again. Minho loosens his arms as well and one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing the skin just under your eye, while the other stays on your back.

‘Just as beautiful as I remember,’ he whispers and his eyes flick to your mouth. 

Fuck. Is he going to kiss you? You’d lie if you said you hadn’t thought about it ever since he sent you the plane ticket. He wanted to see you, he flirted with you all the time, hell he even told you that in his mind the two of you were already dating, even if he never took you out before. 

‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ Minho says and his other hand comes up to gently take a hold of the back of your neck. ‘If you don’t want me to–’ 

You don’t let him finish and stand on your tippy toes to press your lips against his, successfully shutting him up. His fingers twitch against your neck as he melts against you, his lips soft and gentle. 

You wrap your arms around his neck to get even closer to him and when your fingers glide through the soft strands of his hair, something seems to shift in him. His hands glide down from your face to your hips where his fingers tighten as he pulls you flat against him. Every inch of your body is touching his now and you can feel his heat through your clothes. It feels good, nice, incredible even. 

Minho's lips move over yours like they’ve never done anything but kiss you, and when he nips at your bottom lip, you gasp against his mouth which allows him to deepen the kiss. A noise escapes your throat when his tongue meets yours and your whole body starts to feel like it's on fire. You’ve been kissed before, but never like this. 

You pull back to gasp for air and Minho takes that moment to move his hands even lower, grabbing onto your ass as he lifts you up. A squeal leaves your mouth at the sudden movement, wrapping your legs around his waist while your arms tighten around his neck. 

‘Minho!’ you laugh, holding onto him for dear life. 

‘Now we’re the same height,’ he grins, his hands still on your ass. 

‘Are you sure you didn’t just want to touch my–’ 

Minho’s mouth is on yours again, kissing you like he never plans to stop and you happily let him.

a/n: hehe I hope you enjoyed this cute reunion. Let me know if you'd like to read any other written bits for this story and maybe I'll do a few extra bonus scenes ;)

next chapter will be texts again (and also probably the last chapter aaahhh)

taglist: @royal-shinigami @jeonginplsholdmyhand @blueberrydish @staybabblingbaby @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @4ln-stay8 @katsukis1wife @mushy-mushroom04 @livixcore @jazziwritesthings @realrintaro @theworldofshelby-blog @nightmarenyxx @lailac13 @sungookie @fiest4plum @whiteghostt @bandarkyajaaneadrakkaswad @leeknowinggg @rundontwalkshesaid @hyunjinswrld @miraitstan @brbwritingfanfic @thatgirlangelb @nappynapnaps @solisyeah @luvbangchan @leeknowskittenpaws @elmatadoristhebestplayer @darling-eos @babygirlskz98 @havenwithleeknow @atrioofinsomniacfoxes @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv

[writingstreetspirit]

All I Want For Solstice, (Is You)

Summary: What could possibly be better than celebrating Winter Solstice with your family?

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shit ton of fluff, sappy feelings, pregnancy

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope this pieces was alright, I’d thought it be finished a lot earlier this December since I started writing it in November. But my cat unexpectedly became sick and had to be put down so I’ve been taking time to mourn his passing as well as getting back the energy to write again. Anyways, I hope you all will have a wonderful Winter Holiday however you’re celebrating!

—

“We’re going to be late!” You hurried down the stairs as fast as you could in your, although low but still, heels. Scanning eyes searched for your handbag while simultaneously putting on the earrings that Azriel gifted you for your last birthday.

Azriel came out from the kitchen, a gift bag with the presents for your friends in hand. “Maybe a little. The others can survive our absence for a few minutes. Remember last Winter Solstice? Cassian and Nesta didn’t arrive until more than half an hour after everyone else.”

You huffed a breathless chuckle, grabbing for one of the warmer formal coats on the clothing rack in the hallway. “Yeah, and they’ll never hear the end of it. I’d rather not have a repeat of last year.”

Azriel, who was already dressed and ready to go outside, took a gentle hold of your upper arms. You halted to a stop at the sudden touch. “[Name], slow down, take a deep breath. You know that stress isn’t good for you.”

Breathing in deep through your nose and slowly releasing it through your mouth, you could feel the tightness in your shoulders loosen. Azriel smiled, gently squeezing his hands around your flesh. “Good, that’s better.”

Nodding, you slumped your head forward, resting your temple against your bondmate’s firm shoulder. “Sorry.”

Warm hands cupped your cheeks softly, tilting your head up so that he could look at you. Azriel’s hazel eyes held that warm and tender look that he only reserved for you, for the love of his life.

“Sweetheart, you never have to apologize for that. I just want you to be healthy and happy, the both of you.”

His hands instinctively left your cheeks to wander down your dress, settling over your swollen stomach, one lone shadow joining their master’s hands. You were well into the third and last trimester, and with just a few more weeks worth of time, the growing baby within you was to be born.

With it being your and Azriel’s first child, every single aspect of the pregnancy was completely new, both beautiful beyond words, and downright scary at times. While the both of you were ready and eager to welcome a little boy or girl, it is frightening thinking that someone so small and precious was to be brought into the world.

You sighed, leaning into the familiar and comforting touch. Azriel was always touching your belly ever since the news of a little life growing inside you were revealed, you're almost surprised they hadn’t left marks on your skin yet. His shadows were not much better, if Azriel couldn’t be near you for any reason, several of them would remain beside you to watch over and protect.

”We’re both okay, how could we not be when we have such a doting male taking care of us?” As if in agreement with your words, a foot kicked your stomach, right under one of Azriel’s palm. A smile grew on your lips, and Azriel downright beamed at the feel. You cooed, gazing lovingly at your round stomach, ”Yeah, isn’t that right, little one?”

Another kick, this time firmer and the small laugh that escaped from Azriel sounded a little choked. He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against where his hands had been seconds before. With his lips still pressed against you, Azriel whispered words that you had a hard time hearing. But the way he spoke them, the affection dripping from his voice, you knew they were made of love.

After a few more moments, Azriel seemed to be able to tear himself away from your belly, the shadow retreating to their master. Once back up on his feet, he leaned down to press a slow kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but melt against your bandmate, arms wrapping themself around his neck to keep him close. The need after breath was what finally made you have to pull back from those alluring lips.

”Are you ready to leave?” Azriel mumbled, aiding your limbs in to your coat and buttoned it up. He pressed a kiss against your temple, a strong forearm sneaking behind and round your waist. At your smile and nod, the two of you opened the door and stepped out into the snow.

The Townhouse was bustling with activity when Azriel and you arrived. Loud talking, laughter and the clinking of silverware in the kitchen greeted your ears immediately after the door closed behind the two of you. Shrugging off the small amount of snow that had collected on your coat and in your hair, Azriel helped you out of the coat as well as his own.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, Azriel and you stepped further into the warm house and into the kitchen. Feyre, who was leaning against the counter beside Rhysand, noticed your arrival first. She threw herself over to you, giving you a hug. “Azriel, [Name]! Welcome, the food’s almost ready!”

“We’re not late, are we?” You asked upon being released, immediately being enveloped in a hug by Rhys, then Cassian, followed by Nesta, Mor, and lastly Elain. Amren had unfortunately been busy elsewhere and unable to join your family for celebration.

“No, no, you’re fine. Cassian and Nesta just arrived minutes earlier.” Rhysand reassured you, pulling away from hugging his fellow Illyrian brother. Azriel gave you a pointed, but tender look, as if saying ‘told you so’. You rolled your eyes at him, a somewhat sheepish smile tugging on your lips.

Azriel huffed, pressing his lips against your temple. His arm creeped back around your side, his hand resting against your stomach as he so usually did the last couple months. You leaned back against his steady form with a content smile.

Cassian, having seen the whole scene, let out a snort and smirked at Azriel. “You’re so wiped, Az.”

Your mate’s eyes that had been locked on you hardened a bit in warning, directing his gaze at Cassian. Feyre and Azriel stifled a giggle when Nesta’s hand made contact with the back of her mate's head, a tsked ‘idiot’ escaping her mouth.

The smirk remained, but his eyes gave away to gentleness. ”On a serious note, we’re so happy for you two. How are you and the baby doing [Name]? Not long left till your little one is here.”

You smiled, your own hand settling on top of your husband’s on your stomach. “We’re doing great Cass. Just a couple more weeks before you get to meet your niece or nephew.”

“From what I’ve gathered, Azriel seems certain that it’s a girl.” Rhysand said, sharing a look with you. That was indeed true, whenever Azriel would speak with you about your unborn child, he would always call them a girl. Whether it was about the nursery or baby clothes or what color their eyes would have, the Shadowsinger thought you two would have a daughter.

You knew your mate would be ecstatic no matter if the baby would turn out to be a boy or girl, but it did secretly warm your heart imagining Azriel with a daughter. But you would have to wait for the birth to find out if your mate was right or not.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out.” You said wistfully. Azriel hummed, a loving smile on his face. He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss on your lips, whispering low for only you to hear. “I can’t wait to meet her, or him.”

Feyre smiled at your comment, gazing at her own mate before looking at the stove. “Yes, indeed we will. Anyways, the food should be ready. Let’s eat!”

The following hour was spent at the dining table, surrounded by your closest friends and family eating a delicious meal and delightful drinks. Cheeks almost sore from smiling and belly full and content, everybody eventually migrated to the living room to land on the couches and armchairs.

After the gifts were given, received and opened, Azriel sat on an armchair that was appropriately sized for Illyrian wings with you sitting with your back pressed against his chest. The sun had already gone down and the snow fell heavy outside, the energy from the day had been all but spent. In your wonderful mate’s arms, you couldn’t help but to be dowsing.

“Did you have fun today, sweetheart?” Azriel asked low, just for you to hear. You nodded, tipping your head back to look at him, a slow and sleepy smile spreading across your face. “This was the best Solstice I’ve ever celebrated.”

A warm and tender hand caressed your flushed cheek. His other hand rested on your belly, thumb swiping back and forth against the stretched skin. A couple of his shadows flowed across the skin that was not covered by his hand, curious and delighted by their soon to be new friend.

The baby within was peacefully sleeping after having kicked the whole time that the gifts had been opened. “I’m glad that you feel the same. I take it that we should be heading home soon?”

You hummed, leaning back further in Azriel’s warm embrace, face nuzzling deeper into his shoulder blade. “Not just yet. Stay like this for a little while longer, your comfortable.”

Azriel chuckled but tightened his arms around you, leaning his cheek against the top of your head. “Whatever my mate wants, she gets.”

[beloveds-embrace]

Until the Last Loop: Familiar Faces

(Days spent with them making new memories- a silent attempt at forging a new life before it will be ripped away once more)

Poly mercenaries 141 x princess reader

Part One

The castle breathed with life and the scent of burning tallow, but to you, it might as well have been a tomb. Its towering walls and narrow corridors, carved from cold stone and lined with faded tapestries, had grown too familiar over the cycles- prisons that wore different faces but caged you all the same, and you were the bird locked within it each life, merely with different feather each time.

You sung the same melody, regardless. A melody that would soon be snuffed out.

You moved through the halls like a shadow, your impending doom hanging over you like clock that never stopped ticking until its last moments. Servants parted for you without meeting your gaze, and although whispers followed in your wake, they no longer stung the way they once had. You had long since grown used to the weight of their words, their gazes full of pity and disdain. They had become just another layer of the endless loop, a reflection of your precarious standing with the royal lineage.

But the men- the four who trailed in your footsteps, sent by your father to report all your moves back to him with the excuse of protecting you- were different.

They were a presence you couldn’t shake, no matter how many lifetimes passed. Always close, always steady, their shadows filled the empty spaces others left behind. And unlike the others, they weren’t afraid to look at you.

In some lives, you despised them. What comfort could four men give you when all you wanted was your father’s love? Your people’s adoration? Friends your age? None whatsoever.

In other lives, you had been distant. You kept them at arms’ length, unwilling to even converse with them. They were of no use to your desperation to free yourself from this cursed cycle.

You’ve lost count of how many loops you’ve gone through. Even now, you do not know how it started; who started it. A cruel curse, that’s what it was, and you were its constant victim. It was inevitable, so why… keep away the only people willing to be near you?

And so this time, you let them close.

Soap was the first to slip past your walls, an unsurprising fact.

It was late when you found yourself sitting in the gardens, the air sharp with the chill of night. The roses were dying, their petals curling inward as frost crept along the edges, and you wondered- just for a moment- how many times you had seen them bloom and wither like this.

Too many times.

You were alone with him; no maid or lady-in-waiting was willing to accompany you, though rather than saying that, they jusy boldly lied and said they had prior arrangements to the king.

The king. Your father. It was always him. You wished he’d hate you a little less, just enough to not rob you of the care you’ll always long for like a child stumbling through the cold for a flicker of fire, of warmth.

Wistful dreams.

Soap sat down beside you without invitation, though his presence didn’t feel unwelcome. His easy smile was softer in the moonlight, and when he offered you his cloak, you didn’t refuse it.

“You look like you’re waitin’ for somethin’,” he said, voice low but steady, starting the conversation. By now, they’ve come to understand that you are… so different from whatever everyone said of you. You were quiet, your presence squeezed and molded into a tiny nook of the castle so easy to forget.

You didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. The words came slower, heavier now- weighted by too many winters and too many deaths.

“I think it’s waiting for me,” you breathed out, fingers brushing the edge of the cloak. The flowers fluttered when a breeze blew by, bending in the directionaway from you; they pitied you, too, for not even they’d be placed upon your grave once you were dead. “… My end, I mean.”

Soap didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to deny it, either. He did not have any loyalty to the king or keeping his secrets; no mercenary would bother even if they’d lifk the king’s hand for his gold and coins.

Snakes, all of them. And yet- they were the ones who got to live, so the last laugh was theirs.

“Well,” he said instead, leaning back on his palms, “if it comes knockin’, ye just let me know. I’ll handle it.”

You almost smiled. Almost.

Soap didn’t leave right after that, like you expected.

He stayed, stretched out beside you on the stone bench like he had nowhere better to be, his broad shoulders relaxed but his eyes sharp as they roamed the shadows pooling in the corners of the garden. The scent of dying roses lingered in the air, sweet and cloying, and you wondered if he noticed the way your hands trembled when you smoothed the cloak over your lap.

If he did, he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he tilted his head back and gazed at the stars, his voice softer when he spoke again.

“Ye know, my mum used to say the stars are just folk lookin’ down on us,” he said, accent curling thick around the words. “Watchin’, guidin’… makin’ sure we dinna wander too far off the path.”

You blinked at him. “And what if the path leads… nowhere?”

Soap turned his head to look at you then, eyes dark. “Then ye make yer own.”

It was such an earnest thing to say, so full of conviction that it made something in your chest twist painfully. You couldn’t tell him how many times you’d tried to do just that- tried to fight and claw your way toward a different ending, only to be dragged back to the start again.

Soap didn’t know. None of them did.

And yet, as you sat there with his warmth seeping through the cloak and his words lingering in the air like a promise, you found yourself wishing- just for a moment- that he was right.

That you could carve your way out of this nightmare and leave the endless cycle behind.

But that was foolish.

So instead, you leaned back against the bench and let your eyes drift shut, pretending not to notice the way Soap’s hand hovered near the dagger at his side, ready to draw at the first sign of danger.

Pretending you didn’t feel safer for it.

Ghost was harder to pin down. He lingered on the edges, silent as your grave, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

When the nightmares came- and they always did, another constant- you found him at your door. He never asked questions, never pried. He simply stood guard, silent, until the trembling stopped.

One night, when sleep refused to come after a day of listening to awful, false whispers of you, you found yourself seated on the rug in front of the hearth, staring into the flames. Ghost leaned against the wall, his mask a stark contrast against the flickering light.

“They won’t hurt you.” He said suddenly, rough and low.

You didn’t look at him. You watched the flickering fire, and was rewarded with whispers of the lives where you’d been burned at the stake. “They always do.”

“They won’t.”

And maybe it was foolish, but for once, you almost believed him.

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, eyes fixed on the flames as if they could burn away the memories pressing in from all sides.

Ghost didn’t move from his place against the wall. He was a silhouette in the firelight, broad shoulders and sharp angles, the hollow black of his mask turning him into something almost otherworldly.

You didn’t ask why he was there. He never explained himself, and you never pushed.

After a while, he broke the silence again.

“They’re scared of you.”

His voice was quiet, still rough like gravel, but it cut through the room as sharply as any blade.

You swallowed, your gaze still locked on the fire. You couldn’t look away. “No. They hate me.”

Ghost didn’t argue. He let the silence stretch, his eyes never leaving you.

You weren’t sure why that bothered you more than words would have.

“They’re scared,” he repeated finally, slower this time. Firmer. “And scared people do stupid things.”

You let out a short, bitter laugh. “Like cutting off my head?”

Ghost tilted his head, and something about the way he looked at you made your chest tighten.

“They won’t get the chance, princess.” He said, and there was something cold in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned to face him then, finally meeting his gaze. Or at least, what you thought was his gaze beneath the mask. It was impossible to tell, but you felt it- heavy, unflinching.

“You can’t stop it, Ghost.”

Ghost didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. “Watch me.”

The words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have mattered when you already knew how this would end- how it always ended. Those words were treacherous to whatever the king wanted and expected of him.

But as the fire crackled and the shadows danced along the walls, you let yourself believe him. Just for a little while.

Because Ghost wasn’t the kind of man who made promises.

And yet, when he spoke, it sounded like one.

… yet you knew, not all promises can be kept.

Gaz was gentler than the others. Thoughtful. Attentive in a way that made your chest ache, because it had been so long since anyone had looked at you without seeing the stain on your birthright first and you second.

He helped you practice with a dagger one afternoon, though you both knew it wouldn’t be of much use to you. The sharp clang of metal rang out against the training yard walls as he corrected your grip, his hands warm against yours.

When was the last time you’d been held like that?

Far too long ago. Far too many lives ago.

“Careful,” he said, guiding the blade down in a smooth arc. “Keep your stance steady.”

You frowned. “What does it matter?”

Gaz tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

And wasn’t that the cruelest part? That no matter how many times you died, you always woke up again?

You didn’t answer, and Gaz didn’t press. Instead, he let you lean into him when the weight of it all grew too heavy, when the weight of more than just the training pressed down on you.

Gaz stayed close after that- close enough that you started to notice the small things.

The way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than they should, watching for signs of exhaustion or the fear you tried so hard to hide. The way his touch was always secure but never overbearing, grounding you without demanding more than you were willing to give.

He made you feel… safe.

It was dangerous.

Foolish.

But you let him stay anyway. You stayed with him anyway.

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight as you practiced another strike, the blade slicing cleanly through the air. Gaz nodded approvingly, stepping back just enough to give you space, though his presence was still a solid weight at your side.

“Better,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “You’re getting the hang of it, princess. Maybe you’ll give us a run of our money, eh?”

You lowered the blade, breathing hard as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be humorous “I’m not sure it’ll matter in the end.”

Gaz frowned at that, stepping closer. “Don’t say that.”

You almost laughed. Almost. “You don’t understand.”

His hand came up then, gentle as he tilted your chin to face him. The look in his eyes knocked the breath from your lungs- steady and sure, like he was trying to hold you together with sheer force of will.

“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, voice low. “But I do know this- every time you get back up, it matters.”

You didn’t realize you were trembling until his hand dropped to your shoulder, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

“Don’t give up yet, princess,” he murmured, softer now. “Not on yourself.”

It was almost too much. Too kind. Too hopeful.

You wanted to tell him that hope had no place here- not in this endless loop of death and betrayal and grief. Not in this damned castle- but the words wouldn’t come, caught in your throat like fish in a net.

So instead, you let him take the dagger from your hands, let him press it back into its sheath before leading you toward the shade of the courtyard’s edge.

And when he sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed, you didn’t pull away.

Because for once, it didn’t feel like a burden to be seen.

Price was the hardest to read.

He was steady, commanding- his presence filled the room like the smoke of chimneys, lingering long after he was gone. He carried himself like a man who had seen too much and lost too many, and sometimes, when he looked at you, you thought you saw the ghost of something more.

He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words stayed with you.

“Do you ever wonder, princess,” he asked one evening, standing by the window with a wooden cup of mead in his hand. You didn’t know how he’d even snuck it in, but you weren’t going to snitch. “if we’re all just pieces on your father’s board?”

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden question.

“All the time.” You said.

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and there was something unreadable in it.

You wanted to ask what he meant, why the sudden question, but he turned away before you could, leaving you to sit and stew with the thought.

And stew you did.

Because Price wasn’t wrong, was he?

You already knew your father had lied- about these mercenaries, their orders, everything.

They weren’t here to protect you. Not really.

No knights would take you, no nobles wanted you, and no one in the kingdom would lay down their sword for a bastard-born princess whose only crime was existing. Yet here they were, these hardened men, mercenaries paid in coin and silence, assigned to watch your every move.

Not guard you. Watch you.

Keep you until the day you were dragged to your death once more.

You’d known it the moment Price first stepped through your door, his eyes sweeping the room like he was cataloging exits instead of protecting them. The others were subtler- Soap with his easy charm, Ghost with his patient silence, Gaz with his careful words- but Price?

Price didn’t even try to hide it.

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because he didn’t look at you the way others did. He didn’t sneer, didn’t pity, didn’t hate. He looked at you like he was waiting.

Waiting for what?

For you to run? To slip up? To hand him the excuse he needed to drag you before your father in chains, so he could take the money and leave?

The thought made your stomach twist.

Because no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter- that the loop would end and begin again, and none of this would last- it still sank its claws into you.

And the next time Price caught you watching him from across the room, you didn’t look away.

Not at first.

He held your gaze, steady and unreadable, but there was no malice in it- no sharp edges or hidden teeth. Just something quiet. Something that almost felt like understanding.

When you finally turned away, you expected the weight of it to linger, to drag down your shoulders and settle in your chest like an unwelcome puff of smoke.

But it didn’t.

Instead, you felt the faintest flicker of warmth- barely there, fleeting as a dying ember- and hated how much you wanted to hold onto it.

Days turned to nights, and the hours slipped away like sand through your fingers. The loop pressed closer with every tick of the clock, and yet…

You didn’t feel so alone this time.

They were there- in the quiet moments, in the chaos, in the shadows of your worst fears- and though you knew it wouldn’t save you, you still let them stay.

Because this time, you didn’t have the strength to keep them away.

This time, you… wanted to have fond memories before your death.

Masterlist

I hope everyone’s been enjoying this so far! Any guesses on why reader is in a time loop and who might be responsible? :3

[harrywavycurly]

Not In The Same Way: A Harry Styles Blurb✨

CW: Mentions of drinking, language, jealousy?

A/N: I have been thinking about this scenario in my head for a week and it just needs to get out, sorry in advance because it’s a bit sad-ish? Also this fts long hair Harry so if he’s not your thing that’s fine!

Summary: Sometimes Harry acts more like your boyfriend than your bestfriend, but he can’t help it especially since your actual boyfriend is an asshole✨

Harry looks at the time on his phone and lets out a sigh as he sees it’s just barely past midnight, far too early to be calling it a night seeing as he just arrived at the club that he’s currently helping celebrate the opening of not even an hour ago. But at the moment he doesn’t care as he slides his phone back into his pocket before he makes his way through the crowd towards the table his friends are at so he can tell them goodbye before he disappears for the rest of the evening. Once he spots them he puts a smile on his face but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he doesn’t need to check it to know it’s a new text and without a doubt it’s going to be from you. When he finally reaches the table his friends, or more so just social acquaintances that he sees at these types of events that he chooses to stick with instead of venturing off alone, greet him with warm smiles and sounds of cheer that he’s returned to them after going to the bar for a drink.

“Uh oh he’s got that look.” Harry turns to look at Gina who’s sitting at the end of the table closest to where he’s standing behind an empty chair. “You can’t possibly be leaving us so soon?” She accuses before she takes a sip of her drink, Harry looks around the crowded club and lifts a shoulder up in a casual shrug before he places his full drink down on the table.

“Sorry but it looks like you lot will still have a good time without me.” He explains as he takes his phone out, he feels the corners of his mouth drop a bit at the words on his screen, another text from you about your current location and how you just want to go home.

“Harry come on you just-”

“I’m sorry I really have to go.” Normally Harry wouldn’t be so quick to cut people off when they are asking him to stay out a little longer, he’s normally up for having fun well into the early morning hours when he goes to enjoy a night out but everything changes when it comes to you.

This isn’t the first time a night out has been cut short due to a frantic phone call or a string of clingy texts all from you, and Harry never hesitates to pick up no matter what he’s doing or where he’s at because you’re his bestfriend and have been for the last few years. The only issue is that sometimes the lines get blurred that should tell him where being your bestfriend ends and where he should let someone else, such as the absolute prick Kyle you decided to start dating two months ago take over. But he can’t ignore your calls or your texts just because he thinks he shouldn’t be the one to pick you up when you’re at a bar with your friends and want him to take you home, he also can’t ignore the slight tingling of pride he gets knowing he’s still your first call whenever you need someone.

The phone in his hands vibrating brings him back to reality when he looks and sees your name along with a photo of your smiling face taking over the screen, he quickly slides his thumb across the screen and brings the phone up to his ear. He gives the table of people one last smile and a wave before he turns and heads for the back exit, not even bothering to stop when he hears the shouts begging him to stay for just “one more drink”.

“Harry?” He smiles as your voice hits his ears while he does his best to maneuver through the dance floor full of people swaying to the beat of the music being blared through the speakers of the dj booth. “Harry are you there?”

“I’m here love.” He answers as he finally finds his way to the back exit where his driver is already waiting for him in the alleyway. He holds the phone up to his ear with one hand while he pushes the door open with his other. “You okay?” He asks as he scans the alley, his driver blinks the headlights letting Harry know where the car is parked.

“I just wanna go home.” You sigh making Harry frown as he walks the short distance to his car. “Can we go home?” Harry feels his heart drop when he swears he hears the sound of a sniffle come through your end of the phone. He quickens his pace to the parked car and opens the door to the backseat and gives his driver a little nod letting him know it’s okay to start driving since Harry already sent him your location he doesn’t need to be told where he’s heading.

“Of course love I just have to get to you first okay? M’not far so I’ll be there in a few.” He hears the sound of a door closing before you let out a huff making him assume you’ve found your way to the bathroom, deciding to just wait for him in there instead of with your group of friends.

“Where are you?” Harry looks at his suit and wonders for a moment if he should lie to so you don’t get upset thinking you ruined a night out for him. He must’ve paused for too long because a few seconds later he hears you let out a small whine before your voice is full of concern and a touch of panic. “Oh god did I interrupt something? You’re not in the middle of-”

“Hey hey it’s fine I promise you didn’t interrupt anything okay? I wasn’t doing anything important.” It’s not a total lie, a club opening its anything Harry would consider important and when he hears you sniffle he knows he needs to do something to get your mind off of the idea of you ruining his night. “What color dress did you go with for tonight? The black or pink?”

“Black the-the pink one has a stain on it from when you spilled coffee on it last New Year’s Eve.” He hears you let out a small chuckle and he smiles because he can imagine you sitting on the counter near the sink in the small bar bathroom laughing at the memory of last New Year’s Eve. “You had glitter all in your hair do you remember?” Your voice is softer and less frantic as it was a few moments ago.

“That’s because you ran us right under a confetti and balloon drop.” He doesn’t mention the kiss you planted on him as soon as the clock struck midnight, simply telling him it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss even if it is just one shared between friends.

Even though to him there wasn’t anything friendly about the way your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you for a second and third kiss to his lips. But then again the same could be said for his hand that he had on the side of your face and his other that gripped your hip so he could pull you closer to him while also doing his best to prolong the moment because he didn’t want you to pull away and it be the end of it, the end of a moment you’d later just brush off as if it meant nothing while to Harry it meant everything he’s just never told you.

“I had no idea that bar was going to have a balloon drop that was a shock.” You say with a laugh and Harry just nods as he runs a hand through his long hair as he looks out the window and sees the sign for the bar you’re at in the distance as they turn down the street it’s on. “That was a good night.” Harry smiles as you let out a dreamy sounding sigh and he wonders if you’re thinking of the kiss.

“It was.” He feels the car come to a stop and he notices a few random groupings of people out front, mostly just outside for a smoke or waiting for their rides. “I’m here love do you need me to come in or-”

“Can you? Or is it too much?”

“I can come in and get you that’s fine you’re in your usual spot?” He asks as his driver gets out to come around and open his door for him.

“Yes I’m in the bathroom.” Harry laughs and nods as if you can see him, anytime he’s come to rescue you from this bar in particular you always seem to be in the bathroom so you can escape whatever it is that has you calling him to come get you in first place rather it be you’re too intoxicated and don’t trust anyone around you or your fiends are being a bit mean, the bathroom is always where he finds you.

“Okay see you in a minute love.”

“Okie dokie.” You say with a smile before hanging up just as Harry’s door opens allowing him to get out and put his phone in his pocket before he heads for the entrance of the bar he is extremely over dressed for.

“Hey Carl.” Harry greets the bouncer with a smile when he approaches the door, the man looks up from his phone and gives Harry a once over before raising an eyebrow at him.

“Harry it’s good to see you but you sure you wanna come in here dressed like that? It’s two dollar tequila night.” He warns with a laugh as he reaches out and straightens out Harry’s suit jacket making Harry roll his eyes and playfully swat his hands away.

“I’m just here to take her home so hopefully I won’t be in long.” He informs the older man who just shakes his head because he knows you just as well as he knows Harry if not better since you’re here more often than he is so he knows it’s never quite that simple as just coming to get you and leaving.

“Ah well make it snappy okay? Can’t have you classin’ up the place.” He jokes as he waves Harry inside with a pat on his shoulder as he walks by making Harry chuckle as he walks through the door.

He keeps his head down a bit so he can try to avoid being spotted by the group of friends he knows you came here with, not that he’s really able to be that inconspicuous in his suit and dress shoes that make a horrible noise every time he picks them up from the sticky floor to take a step. He knows this bar like the back of his hand with how often he’s been inside either as a ride home or to join you in a night out thanks to how close it is to your apartment and how often they run specials on your favorite liquor, so he knows the small round table in the far right corner is where he’ll find a few of your friends that don’t enjoy dancing as much as the others. He also knows by the end of the night the small table will be far too crowded with drinks ranging from totally empty all the way to full to the brim as well as a few tubes of chapstick rolling around, and it’ll be surrounded by all your friends and possibly a few new additions they deemed worthy of being their dance partners for the evening that’ll either end with a new contact saved in their phone or a fake promise to see each other again.

Harry looks up and quickly scans the extremely crowded dance floor just to make sure you didn’t move from your usual spot, the bathroom at the end of the hall behind the bar. When he doesn’t see any signs of you, which he would be able to spot the tiniest hint of your hair or your smile from a mile away because to him you’re just that easy to find in a crowd, he heads towards the bar. He offers a polite smile to people as he does his best not to step on anyone’s toes and maneuver his way through the people dancing, chuckling to himself when he spots your friends swaying a little off beat near their designated table.

“Figured it was only a matter of time before you showed up.” James the head bartender shouts over the sound of customers telling him and the other bartender, Rebecca their orders. Harry just rolls his eyes as he makes his way behind the bar, giving James a friendly pat on the shoulder when he walks behind him.

“She’s lucky I love her or I’d have kicked her ass out of the employee bathroom by now. She’s been in there for half an hour.” He explains before Harry can turn and head down the hallway, hearing how long you’ve been inside the single stalled bathroom makes Harry raise an eyebrow since it’s only been about fifteen minutes since your initial text asking him to come get you.

Harry sees the very familiar door that he knows isn’t going to be locked because one time you accidentally ended up locking yourself inside with the key stuck in the doorknob and it took ten minutes for James and Carl to get the door open. He tries to prepare himself for whatever state you might be in even though over the phone you didn’t seem drunk or even very tipsy so he begins to think maybe you’re just having a rough night and want to call it quits well before your friends do resulting in them being a bit teasing, something he knows you don’t handle well in situations like this. He brings his hand up to the door and gives it three good knocks before he steps back to give you space to open the door and check who it is that’s bothering you.

“Oh thank god.” Your arms are wrapping around his middle and your cheek is pressing into the fabric of his dress shirt all before he can even say hello. “I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumble into his chest as Harry finally returns your hug and wraps his arms around your shoulders so he can pull you closer to him.

“What’s wrong love? Why’ve you been-”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Harry just lets out a small sigh as he feels you give him a tight squeeze. He places a small kiss to the top of your head while one of his hands run up and down your back.

“Ready to go home then yeah?” You pull away from him so you can look up at him and he smiles down at you as you nod but then he watches as your eyes take in his appearance making the wrinkle between your brows form as you look at him.

“You’re in a suit.”

“I am.”

“You said you weren’t doing anything important and-and here you are in a suit.”

“I wear suits to unimportant things all the time.”

“Harry…” your voice is a mixture of a groan and a whine as you rest your forehead on his chest. “You shouldn’t be here if you’re in a suit that means you were at an event and events are important because you’re Harry Styles and-”

“I’m exactly where I should be.” He says stopping your rant before you can say anything else. “Now come on let’s go get your purse so we can go.” He feels you tense up at the mention of grabbing your purse and it all begins to make sense to him while you’re hiding out back here instead of with your friends. “Having some trouble with the girls?”

“I just-they are so mean when I talk about him and it’s-I don’t like it.” Harry thanks his lucky stars you’re not looking at him as you bring up your boyfriend, Kyle because his face would’ve made you question if he was okay due to the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are no longer soft around the edges like they normally are anytime he’s near you.

“What’s he done now that’s got them all upset?” You let out a long sigh as you pull away from Harry making his arms fall to his sides as you place your hands on your hips while turning your head to look towards the back of the bar.

Harry feels his heart sink when he hears you sniffle and give your head a little shake as you hold up a hand towards him because you already know his arms are desperate to pull you back into his embrace at the sight of you getting upset over your boyfriend but you want to answer his question and you won’t be able to do that if he’s holding you because you’ll be too comfortable and won’t want to ruin the moment.

“He uhm he’s cheating on me or-or that’s what they think.” Harry licks his lips before he tucks his bottom one between his teeth as he lets your words sink in for a moment. “And I don’t know if he is or not? I don’t-I just don’t know.” You mumble as you look down at your feet.

“Why do they think that?” His voice isn’t harsh but it’s not nearly as soft as it was a moment ago. “What’s he been doing that’s got them all accusing him of cheating?”

“His Instagram is private now and he unfollowed everyone and he uh also posted some things to his uhm Snapchat that-”

“He unfollowed everyone? Even you?”

“Yes.”

“When’s the last time you talked to him?”

“I really don’t want to do this right now.” Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, that answer telling him everything he needs to know. “Please Harry. I just want to go home.” Your voice is watery as you turn to finally look at him again and all the anger Harry was feeling towards Kyle melts away when he sees your bottom lip start to tremble and your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

“Let me go get your purse and we can go.” He takes a step towards you and places both hands on your face, gently cupping your cheeks. “I love you.” Is all he says before he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Harry.” The words sting a bit as they hit his ears because of course he knows you love him, just not in the same way.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

too young / too dumb / to know things like love

katsuki bk. x f! reader

when perhaps one of the most heartbreaking and stressful relationship of your entire life comes to an end, katsuki can’t resist having you for one more night. angst/smut, breakup sex, y/a katsuki

@crushmeeren the snippet i left in ur inbox 🫧 thank you for all your love

another big kiss for u, 5sos nation 🤍 inspired by ghost of you

7:09 am.

katsuki wakes up, still pushed to one corner of the bed. he has the entire king size to himself, but remains unable to sleep on that side of the bed. your side.

he groans when he sits up, pain in his shoulders and a dull throb in his heart. red eyes flicker over to the leftover coffee mug on the beside. as time passes, your lipstick stain fades. but he doesn’t need the satin red makeup left on your favourite mug to remember how your lips felt, the way they tasted.

he wishes to go back to sleep, to dream long enough for you to tell him he’d be fine. he wants to believe that, to hold onto it. even if you know he’ll find himself drowning out his pain, dancing through his house alone, he hopes you’ll lie to him.

worst of all? so many saw it coming. but you both hoped, foolishly so, that you could defy the odds.

you didn’t.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

“so thats it?” you ask, but its more like a statement than anything. the finality in your tone isn’t lost on katsuki. the plates in the sink are left unwashed, dinner cold and neglected. the couch mourns the couple that once embraced on it, floorboards preparing to only creak for one.

years of training, of self doubt, surviving a war and becoming a hero, and the hardest thing katsuki has ever done was walk away from you.

“i have to do this.” he chokes back tears. “you’re not happy. i’m not either

and you want to lie and tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not and that what makes you so fucking angry. he’s hoping his absence will give you the peace his love couldn’t.

“i’ll give you your sweaters back.” you say, not knowing what else to add. you’re hoping he’ll say no. keep them. there yours. they’ve always been.

instead: “thanks, babe.”

“don’t fucking call me that!” you snap, tears spilling like a broken dam.

its at that moment when it sets in for him. when he realizes this’ll be the last time he sees you, or hears your voice. that from now on, he’ll have to drown it out, dancing through his apartment with nothing but the phantoms of what was.

“…sorry, [y/n].” he hesitantly steps closer. he wishes he could yell, be the asshole you know him for. but he right now, he’s wounded, returning only half his weight. he was losing his favourite part of him.

almost pathetically so, you jump into his arms, sobbing into his chest despite the anger you feel in your bones. he doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around yours, pulling you into him like its the last time. it is.

“fuck you, katsuki.” you cry, and he takes it. “yeah, fuck you too, [y/n].”

he says right before kissing you, but its different this time. there’s desperation in it, to feel you, to make this goodbye count.

as much as you try to, you know you love katsuki when you can’t hate him for breaking your heart. you tug him in by his collar, dragging the two of you to the couch. cries turn into moans, pain remains more or less the same.

he’s already shirtless, something he was always comfortable doing around you. he’s so hot it makes you mad, almost wishing you wore something nicer than his old zeppelin shirt thats too big it pools at your waist.

but he doesn’t care. katsuki will fuck you no matter what, evident by how he doesn’t even bother to take it off all the way, impatient. he grabs the hem, dragging it just above your chest. its no secret he wants to see your tits bounce and face flush when he’s buried deep in you.

your morning him, and the fact that from here on out you’ll never get a dick this good.

he rubs circles on your clothed clit, rough, hypnotizing you. he has to resist the urge to slam himself into you right away. he’s already breaking your heart, he doesn’t need to hurt your pussy in the process.

but maybe you don’t care anymore, whispering in his ear. “c’mon, kats, i want you.”

his breath hitches, red eyes looking concerned. “you sure?”

“just fucking do it.”

normally, he’d tease you, tell you to be patient. but he’s not patient either, moving your panties to the side before sliding himself into you. you both moan in relief. it doesn’t take long before he starts thrusting.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fuckin’ sorry.” he almost cries, kissing his apology into your skin, his cock deeply embedded into you. he normally likes it rough, getting you on your knees and pressing you into the pillow. but right now, he needs to see you- all of you. he knows this might be the last time.

“fuck, you feel so good, katsuki.” you whisper, cupping his face while he takes deep, intimate strokes. even on the verge of destruction, even as forever falls apart, he’s still able to make love and pleasure blossom from your heart and mind. he has that hold on you, that even if you married another man the next minute, he’d still have the key to parts of you you never knew you had.

hearing his name roll off of your tongue already breaks his heart. he swears that in another universe, this works. that right after he plants his release deep in you, kissing you through your orgasm, blurring the lines between fucking and making love, he’d hold you close and wake up to your face the next morning. and when that morning comes, he’ll head off to his agency after kissing you goodbye. he’ll think of you, of protecting you, of putting you at the centre of everything he fights for. even after this all ends, he still thinks that’ll be true. even if you lose your love for him.

“where do you want me to finish, baby?” he grits out, knowing he won’t be able to call you baby anymore. for a second you think of correcting him, but resign.

“just.. do it in me.” you cry. “i don’t want you pulling out.”

“fuck, you sure ‘bout that?” he grits, but he’s not complaining. he can’t give you forever, or even proper love, but if you want it, he can give you this.

you muster out a nod, his forehead pressed against yours. he feels that your close and so is he, his pace not faltering for even a moment. this really is the last time.

and when he releases, your mind whites out in pleasure. he makes sure to get as deep into you as humanly possible, wanting every lewd drop of him nestled deep in you. he groans into your ear, riding out your pleasure with a few more thrusts before collapsing next to you.

he pulls you in, almost on instinct. tomorrow it’ll be over, but you gave him tonight.

“you fucking idiot.” he whispers, though you’re not sure if he means you or him. either way, it’d make sense. idiot was his rude, endearing nickname name for you. idiot was also how he felt about himself, losing you.

“i love you.” you say, not knowing whats next, but knowing that whatever it is, it can wait till the sun rises.

“i love you so fucking much.”

and he’s happy that those are his last words to you, because the next day, he wakes up alone.

he pats the spot where you laid on the couch. he’s hurt, but not surprised. all his things are there, but its empty. haunted.

and he’ll find other girls, models, pro heroes, names he can’t remember. he’ll lay them down on his couch, hold their hands, kiss them or even love them. you’ll find other guys to unbutton your blouse, to lend you sweaters and promise you forever. but theres a deep understanding between both you and katsuki.

it’ll never be the same like what it was with you.

[kisshae]

ARE YOU BORED YET? ★ YU JIMIN

PREC𝒾s ｡｡ months have passed, but the memory of karina still lingers—her glance like a thorn you can't pull out. you kissed her, and now she's further away than ever, leaving you to watch from the sidelines.

parings ? ex-best friend!karina x lovesick!fem reader ft mark (nct), intak (p1h) , manon & daniela (katseye) ★ genre , wlw friends to lovers uni au fluff tiny bit of angst!!! wc 2.6k

warning(s) , kissing reader is still badly down BAD for karina.. miscommunication jealousy

read this !! I hate fruits , part 1 , sry if this is confusing I was like rushing to finish this up for my next work...

now playing ? nomad , clario

it's been months since you last saw karina—really saw her, not just passing glances in lecture halls or stolen moments across the quad. each month has left an ache in your chest, sharp and unyielding, like a wound that refuses to heal.

you'd think the ache would dull with time, that her absence might ease the weight pressing against your ribs. but it hasn't.

instead, it's only grown worse, carving out hollow spaces inside you that fill with resentment and longing in equal measure.

and then there's mark. the way you've caught them together—his easy laugh, her blond hair catching the sunlight as she leans into him like it's the most natural thing in the world.

that was supposed to be you.

you were supposed to be the one at her side, sharing inside jokes, brushing her hand with yours when no one was looking.

but you ruined it.

you kissed her.

and now, all you can do is watch from the sidelines, choking on the bitterness of your own making. the snow crunches beneath your boots as you make your way across campus, the cold seeping into your bones.

you shove your hands deeper into your coat pockets, wishing the chill in the air could match the frost biting at your heart. she's everywhere and nowhere all at once—haunting your thoughts, lingering in the periphery of your vision, but never close enough to reach.

and you can't decide what hurts more: the memory of that kiss, or the way she looks at you now, like you're a stranger.

the market is busy for a winter afternoon, the crisp air biting at your cheeks as you push through the crowd with daniela by your side. you're bundled in layers, the thick scarf around your neck almost enough to hide your face.

it's a bit of a cozy escape from the cold, all the hustle and bustle, but still, something feels off, like you're waiting for something to happen.

you and daniela split up to grab some things, and she disappears into the restroom, leaving you to wander the aisles alone. you don't think much of it until you round a corner into the fruit alley, only to stop dead in your tracks.

there she is.

karina.

but somethings different.

her blonde hair is gone—replaced by jet black strands that peek out from under her beanie. it's such a stark contrast to the karina you're used to for a second, you almost convince yourself it's someone else.

but it's her. you'd recognize the way she stands anywhere.

she's standing at the end of the aisle, inspecting a basket of oranges, her hands gloved and delicate as she picked them up one by one. for a second, you almost forget where you are, as if the world has faded away except for her.

but you snap back to reality quickly enough, your heart beating in your throat. you could just turn around, pretend you didn't see her.

you could keep walking. you could avoid this.

but your feet won't move.

karina hasn't noticed you yet. she's lost in the small world of fruit, her brow furrowed slightly as she selects the ripest orange. you could watch her for hours if you wanted, but something inside you twists at the sight. there's that familiar ache again, a tinge of jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

it's stupid, really. she doesn't even know you're here, doesn't even know much you've been struggling to get over her.

but you can't help it.

she's too perfect.

before you can think any more about it, she looks up and catches your gaze. her eyes widen slightly, her lips parting in soft surprise. then she stands up straighter, as if she's suddenly unsure of something, and she blinks—quickly, like she's trying to reset herself.

you both freeze.

the air between you feels thick, and for a moment, it's like nothing has changed.

no time. no distance, no awkward silence between you two since the kiss. it's just her and you, standing there in the midst of winter, in a fruit aisle that feels too small for all the words neither of you have said.

karina doesn't move, her hand still hovering near the oranges.

your throat tightens, and you finally manage to speak.

"hey." it sounds so casual, too flat for how you're feeling. your stomach churns as you wonder if she'll say anything at all.

"hi," karina replies, her voice almost too soft, too polite.

and just like that, you're stuck again—two people who never really knew how to talk to each other anymore.

the silence stretches, hanging between you like the cold outside. karina's eyes flicker down to the fruit in her hand, her fingers turning the orange over slowly—carefully, like it’s something delicate she might accidentally crush.

you're the same. Frozen, watching her, unable to move.

it's just an orange, but for some reason, it feels like she’s holding a part of you, inspecting it with the same quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten.

she used to do this with you. with everything. look at you like you were something worth savoring.

but now?

now she can’t even meet your eyes for more than a few seconds without looking away.

you swallow hard, fingers curling at your sides. the fruit around you—rows of apples, pomegranates, those stupid oranges—feels too sweet, too vibrant for how bitter the pit in your stomach has become.

funny. you used to love this aisle.

now, you hate it.

the memory of her lip gloss—cherry, sugary, intoxicating—lingers like a bruise. you wonder if she still wears it, if the taste of her would still remind you of something you shouldn’t want.

“didn't think I’d see you here,” she adds, fingers still turning the orange like it’s the only thing keeping her hands busy. her eyes flick up, meeting yours briefly. “you don’t usually come to this market.”

your throat feels dry. “I could say the same about you.”

karina's lips twitch, almost like she’s about to smile, but it never fully forms. “guess we’re both full of surprises.”

you shift on your feet, pretending to glance over the fruit as if this conversation isn’t the only thing grounding you right now. “yeah. I guess so.”

another stretch of silence. the kind that says everything neither of you are willing to. karina looks down at the orange again, voice softer this time. “how've you been?”

the question sinks in, slow and heavy. it feels like a trap—like she’s opening a door just enough to see if you’ll step through. “fine,” you lie. “busy, you know. classes and all that.”

she nods, but something in her expression shifts—like she doesn’t quite believe you. “right.” her eyes flicker over you, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “you look good,” she murmurs, almost like an afterthought.

your breath catches, and for a second, you forget how to respond. “thanks,” you manage, voice tighter than you’d like. “you too.”

karina hums, her gaze softening—but before you can say anything else, daniela's voice cuts through the stillness.

“you ready to go?”

suddenly, daniela's at your side, brushing water off her coat sleeve. she glances between you and Karina with an arched brow, clearly sensing the tension but not addressing it.

karina's expression hardens just enough for you to notice.

that softness—the small, unspoken part of her that seemed like it might reach out to you again—disappears.

her eyes drop to daniela, lips pressing into a thin line as if she’s biting back words she won’t let slip.

it's subtle. barely noticeable if you weren’t so tuned into her. But you are.

and it’s enough.

karina looks back at you, and for the first time since the party, you see it—the same thing that flashed across her face when she saw you with manon.

jealousy.

she doesn’t say anything else, just holds your gaze for a lingering second too long before turning back to the fruit display, her grip on the orange tightening slightly.

you could say something.

you should. but you don’t.

daniela's arm loops through yours, tugging lightly, but you hesitate—just for a second. your eyes drift back to karina, still standing there with that orange cradled in her palm. she's not looking at the fruit anymore.

she's watching you.

for a fleeting moment, her lips part, like she's about to say something. but the words don't come. and maybe they never will.

you force a small smile, even though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. "see you later," you murmur, the words slipping out quieter than intended.

karina's gaze flickers, something unreadable crossing her face. it looks almost like regret—or maybe it's just the lighting playing tricks on you.

"yeah," she replies softly. but the way she's still watching you makes it feel like she wanted to say more. like maybe if daniela wasn't there, she would've.

but it's too late.

the carnival is alive with lights and laughter, even in the biting cold. you adjust your camera strap, exhaling a puff of frosty air as the ferris wheel looms ahead. intak and daniela are somewhere back near the food stalls, probably bickering over churros, and manon is likely laughing at both of them. you needed the space, the quiet, to lose yourself in the view from above.

but as you shuffle forward in the line, you catch sight of a familiar figure.

karina.

your heart stutters. she's standing a few spots ahead, bundled in a black coat, her hair now dark as midnight and curling slightly at the ends. there's no sign of Mark, or anyone else for that matter. she's alone.

your thoughts spiral—did they break up? you shouldn’t care. you don’t care. but the thought nags at you, unwanted and unshakable.

the line moves, and suddenly, it’s your turn. the attendant waves you forward, and as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, karina is ushered into the same car.

she hesitates for a moment before sliding in, leaving just enough room for you to follow. the bar clicks into place, trapping you both in an awkward silence as the ride jolts to life.

the city begins to unfold below, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes, but you can’t focus on the view. all you can think about is her. how perfect she looks, even now. how her presence makes it impossible to breathe, impossible to think.

“i'm sorry.”

the words come out of nowhere, breaking the silence like the snap of a branch. You blink, startled, meeting her gaze.

“what?”

she exhales, her breath visible in the chilly air. “i'm sorry for what happened at the party. for... pushing you away like that.” her hands fidget in her lap. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

your chest tightens. the memory of that night feels like a fresh wound, sharp and unhealed.

“scared of what?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

karina hesitates, her eyes darting away to the lights below. “of what people would think. of what it would mean... if they saw me kissing a girl.”

the admission hits you like a punch to the gut. “so you were embarrassed?” the words tumble out before you can stop them, harsher than you meant.

her head snaps up, eyes wide. “No, I—” she bites her lip, searching for the right words. “I wasn’t embarrassed of you. I was embarrassed of myself. I wasn’t ready for people to know.”

you stare at her, the cold seeping through your gloves, but it doesn’t compare to the ache spreading through your chest. “it felt like you were.”

the ferris wheel creaks, the car swaying gently as it reaches the top. karina looks at you, her expression a mix of regret and something else you can’t quite place. “i'm sorry,” she whispers again.

and for a moment, you let yourself wonder if she means it—if she truly understands what she did to you.

the ferris wheel finally comes to a halt at the bottom, and you feel a sudden rush to get off, like if you stay in that small, enclosed space with karina any longer, you might lose control. the ride jerks to a stop, and you’re practically out of the seat before it’s even fully halted, your legs unsteady as you rush toward the exit.

the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, and you don’t stop walking—can’t stop walking. your heart is thundering, pounding against your ribs, and you need distance.

you need space. But then, you feel it. a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back, spinning you around. karina stands there, her expression wide, filled with sorrow, her eyes soft like she’s about to break.

you swallow, your throat dry, trying to force out words. “karina…”

she doesn’t let go, pulling you closer as if she can’t bear the distance between you any longer. her other hand comes up to cup your face, her fingers trembling slightly, but it doesn’t stop her.

you blink up at her, breath catching. “please… let go,” you whisper, a warning. “if you don’t, I might do something stupid.”

something stupid. like kiss her again.

karina's gaze flickers, and for a moment, you think she’ll pull away, but instead, she steps closer, her chest brushing yours, closing the distance. she lowers her voice, her words soft but sure.

“nothing you do could ever be stupid,” she says, her breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

her eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart race, as if she’s trying to find the right words, the right moment. she takes a breath, steadying herself before she says, "I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night… about how you kissed me, how you made me feel. and I hate it, because it doesn’t fit into my world, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop wanting you.”

your breath catches in your throat, your pulse thundering in your ears. the confession hangs in the air between you, raw and vulnerable, and for a moment, you think you might explode from the weight of it all.

“I—I didn’t want to hurt you,” karina continues, her voice cracking. “but I was terrified. terrified of what everyone would think, of what it meant. I thought I could just ignore it, just bury it, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

you feel your hands tremble as you reach up, cupping her face, drawing her gaze back to yours. “so you’re not embarrassed of me?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

her eyes soften, and she shakes her head. “no, never. I was just scared of myself. scared of what I was feeling for you.”

before you can say anything else, her lips find yours again, urgent and unrestrained, as if she’s trying to prove something to both of you. she kisses you like it’s the only thing that matters, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

when she pulls back, her voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s there, raw and open. “i'm sorry it took me so long to get here... but I don’t want to waste any more time pretending.”

the world around you seems to fade, and for the first time in months, you feel a rush of clarity. the ache, the longing, the confusion—it’s all gone, replaced by something even more overwhelming, something real.

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you say, your voice steady for the first time tonight. but even as the words leave your mouth, a thought lingers at the back of your mind—a quiet question that refuses to be ignored.

is this really it? is this the start of something new, or is it just another chapter of chaos in the story you’ve both been trapped in?

you don’t know. but for now, you choose to stay here, in this moment, with karina—hoping that it might be enough.

[penkura]

Holly Jolly Christmas

Summary: Your first Christmas with the Heart Pirates leads you out on deck for a few moments alone, only to be joined by your captain making sure you're okay.

Note: Just wanted to write something like this, Reader needing to step away to get their feelings in check and Law being willing to listen. :) Again, SORRY IT'S SO LATE. I went to see Sonic 3 this morning after church and it threw my whole day off. (:

“Oh come on, stay inside with us! It’s chilly out there!”

“I’ll be fine, Ikkaku, I just need some air!”

She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t fight, instead being pulled away by Shachi for a dance while you laugh and step outside to the deck of the Polar Tang, taking a breath and feeling at ease. The holiday party your crewmates were throwing was starting to overwhelm you, a small break is all you need, some fresh air and the chance to collect yourself. It’s still hard to believe this is your life sometimes, that you’re a member of this crew and have friends that care about you, including a captain that wants you to stay safe. People who like and want you around, it’s so different from before.

Your first year with the Heart Pirates was coming to an end, right at Christmas time too. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think a pirate captain would request you to join them after seeing you protect yourself from some robbers on your home island, you just wanted to be able to eat that night and keep your hard-earned money from them. Apparently it was enough that day to convince Law you would be a good addition to his crew, for some reason you felt like you couldn’t say no even though he didn’t scare you or anything. It felt like something told you that day to go, not like you had anyone to return to at home anyway. Most people on your home island tolerates you enough to pay you for small jobs, but no one cared when you left, you’re sure of that.

It didn’t matter though, once you were introduced to everyone, they all took a quick liking to you and showed you the ropes, taught you how the ship worked and everything you’d need to know for life as a Heart Pirate. You learned everything as quickly as you could, you didn’t want to be seen and burden or dead weight on the crew, and not one of your new friends thought that about you, they all gave Law good reports when they’d help you with anything.

You’re grateful for everything that’s happened the last year, watching your crewmates have fun tonight and enjoy themselves. It’s really like having a family again.

“There a reason you’re out here alone?”

Hearing Law’s voice just makes you smile at him over your shoulder, before he joins you leaning against the railing. Of course he’d find you, he’s very good at that lately. Sometimes it feels like he's actively seeking you out, though that could just be wishful thinking.

“I just needed some air, captain.”

“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us, I’ve told you that,” Law rolls his eyes while you giggle at him, “Doing okay?”

You nod with a small hum, you know he won’t press too hard to find out what’s going on, he already knows everything about you. Law never pushed but always listened when you wanted to talk about your previous life, when he noticed you weren’t doing well one day and it ended in you sobbing in his arms for hours about your lost family. He was awkward about it but didn’t make you leave until you were calm again, it made him realize there was more that you hadn’t told him at that point.

You two were more alike than Law ever expected when he brought you on.

“I need to thank you, Law,” he looks over to you with furrowed brows, but you’re not even looking at him, “If you all hadn’t shown up last year, I probably—”

“Enough, you don’t have to thank me again.”

You laugh with a nod as Law rolls his eyes once again, before you reach over and hug him. It’s taken some time but you’ve gotten Law used to these random hugs, he’s even started returning them like he does now.

“Still though, I’m grateful…getting to know all of you and feel like I belong somewhere again…thank you for saving me, captain.”

“…we’re all glad to have you here.”

You both stay like that for a while, even though it’s cold out and you know Law will want you inside shortly to get warm again.  But these moments with just the two of you are rare, some people would question your relationship if it’s just captain and subordinate or something else there, but you’re happy with where the two of you are.

“All right, you lovebirds, everyone’s waiting for you to do Secret Santa already!”

The two of you almost up away from each other, Law giving Penguin a glare while you look away, your older crewmate having a smirk on his face.

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. But really, come on! Everyone wants to open gifts!”

“Fine,” Law sighs, waving Penguin and keeping a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be there in a moment.”

“Sure thing, cap!”

Penguin runs off to get everyone ready, leaving you and Law alone against. He’s obviously annoyed but it makes you smile anyway. It might be more than either of you are ready for, but you grab his hand and starts walking back into the Polar Tang.

“Better not keep everyone waiting, right, Law?”

“Yeah…guess so…”

You’ll tease him about the light blush on his face later, but tonight, you’ll keep the smile he gives you later on to yourself, and the fact you were his Secret Santa will be your personal secret until Law questions you about it.

You’re the only one who could’ve given him those coins from your home island anyway.

[love-byers]

we all know about the parallel of mike hugging karen when he feels like he's lost will, but i've never seen anyone talk about the other parallels in the s1 and s3 heroes scenes. there are more than you think!

will's fake body being pulled out of the quarry VS will (+ the others) pulling out of the driveway for california

a close up of mike looking at both

mike leaving the scene on his bike after 'losing' will

in one, he has no hesitation. he gets his bike and doesn't look back. not at wills fake dead body, not at el (which would be odd if he knew he was in love with her then...), not at dustin and lucas, not at anyone. he keeps moving forward.

in the other, he is full of hesitation as the other bike away, not looking back. mike stays back and takes one last look at will's house, looking nervous, before hesitantly tearing his eyes away and biking off, trailing behind dustin lucas and max.

do i really need to explain the implications of that....

mike entering the wheeler house visibly upset after losing will, and karen immediately noticing

mike seeking out a hug from karen, something he rarely does

mike hugging karen

note how both clips end with mike moving/sinking deeper into the moment. i'm not sure what the best way to describe this is, but im talking about mike shoving his face into karen's shoulder in the s1 scene and his eyes flicking down in the s3 scene. i know it seems like it doesn't matter, but it does. sprinkling things like that in as a director is purposeful! it's showing how mike is processing the events. in s1 he sinks deeper into karen's comfort, further breaking down because he thinks will is dead. in s3 he doesn't do that. he is extremely still, eyes not moving as he is in shock. then his eyes do move at the last moment, showing he is further processing whatever event has occurred, transitioning from shock to really processing whatever happened.

raw emotion vs icy shock.

and oomf @reo-bylerwagon who is a film major told me that the way the camera tilts upward in the s3 clip is used to show that a realization has occurred, or that something new is being revealed. does that not PERFECTLY line up with:

1. the way mike seems extremely shocked as though he has realized something huge

2. the fact that LITERALLY over that moment is a hopper voice over where he says "to turn back the clock, to make things go back to how they were"

and 3. the way he behaves in s4 (being weird about touching will, rink o mania, etc.)

so yeah, these are definitely parallels through and through and it's really interesting. mike has lost will in both, but in different ways. his reactions say a lot about how he's processing the events and how he views them/his relationships.

also reminder that this is not delusional in the slightest because heroes has only played twice and it's in these two sequences.

and to anyone thinking "well they're just trying to show that mike deeply cares for will, just not in a romantic way!"

......

why in the fresh FUCK would they eat up SO MUCH screen time to show that mike platonically cares about will, rather than use that time to develop his relationship with el and, i don't know, show that he loves her??? why would they feed into will's unrequited love like this??? spoiler alert: THEY AREN'T.

that would be doing WAY too much for a relationship that will end in an amicable split so one can get married and one can get over his deep seeded love for the other and navigate the (extremely homophobic) world alone.

like yall are very clearly not writers or creatives in the slightest 💀💀💀 any writer (or anyone with the faintest creative/analytical bone in their body) will immediately understand why that's fucking dumb and makes no sense. yall are just heteronormative af and instead of admitting that it's greatly affecting your perception of the characters you double and TRIPLE down until you sound like a homophobic disaster

also

season 1 - heroes plays (when mike feels like he lost will)

season 2 - heroes does not play

season 3 - heroes plays (when mike feels like he lost will)

seasons 4 - heroes does not play

season 5 - heroes will play...? perhaps the original david bowie version? and byler will finally kiss as though nothing could fall and the shame will be on the other side? and they can be heroes? just for one day?

so yeah anyways byler endgame

[woodle-isbae]

Ambessa treating reader like a prized pet please please please 😫🙏 and maybe also being very condescending and lowkey mean 🫣

Flaunted like a trophy

Ambessa.M x fem!reader

Warnings: Trophy reader, suggestive(very), Drabble.

There you were, in the bedchambers of the one and only Ambessa Medarda. You stood there, draped in the finest jewelry she could get, the softest fabrics and a personal stylist to meet your demanding fashion choice.

Spoiled rotten.

That's what you were, given everything you wanted on a golden platter- never settled for anything she deemed low quality. You had one job, very easy and simple considering that she made sure you did it every day- dress like a little trophy so she can flaunt you around.

Most people would've given up by now, having to constantly show out- even in private, making sure she liked your outfits. Being put on a strict care routine- all so she can brag about your beauty.

"Stunning."

Her voice rung through the large room, the glint of heavy golds and jewelry around the place partially blinding you at angles. You were posing infront of her, showing off the new outfits she had designed for you to last a month at most.

"Everyone's going to be set on you, my dear."

She stood up, placing her glass down to strut towards you, her rough hands tracing every stitch on the thing gold material. She only stopped when she made it to your breasts, examining you for a brief moment before snapping her fingers.

"It's not pushing them up enough, I want every aspect to be shown."

"I think there should be a deeper cut, they're out enough honestly."

You huffed out, shaking your head in annoyance with how it didn't fit the standard you had set, pouting from the simple mistake.

"We'll get it tailored, don't you worry y'little head off."

"Ugh, make sure it arrives back soon."

She turned to you, a brow raised at your sparky and demanding tone, running her larger hand on your cheek.

"Don't catch an attitude with me."

To anyone else, her voice was calm and hushed, but to you -she was giving you a clear warning, just do as you were required to and it won't be a problem.

"Hm."

Your eyes darted to the door, the guards standing there staring seemingly into the distance. Ambessa had lifted her other arm, waving them off so it could be just you two in the room.

"You know...I really like the gold on your skin, it really suits you."

She had led you over to the sofa, signaling for you to lay down besides her as she sat, leaning on the back rest.

"Strip, I..want to see how it would slip off your body."

Her dull attempt at a lie made you giggle, uncliping a few knots and buttons before sliding the dress off your body, Ambessa grabbing the clump of fabrics and tossing it aside.

You leaned back onto the sofa, spreading your legs in anticipation for her next moves, your arousal seeping through the thing lace pair of panties she picked for you.

"Ah...you are really inpatient huh?"

She chuckled, pulling you in my for a kiss by the back of the neck, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pulling back for some air, she gave you a smug smirk before pulling back and standing at her full height.

"Get ready for tonight, mabye if your lucky...I could finish what we started."

She walked past you, her hand brushing past your shoulder before she left the room. Leaving you alone to cool down before getting redressed.

Oh, how you couldn't wait.!

[lost-romantique]

Stolas - Five Stages of Grief (Sinsmas)

One thing I don't hear many people talk about is the fact that Sinsmas illustrates Stolas learning and accepting his new reality that he's thrusted into, and through it he goes through the Five Stages of Grief. I think it's also important to note that Stolas' grief is due largely in part to not having Octavia around, and the fact that he's been off his antidepressants the entire month.

Denial- A temporary response to loss, where you might not fully comprehend the reality that your in.

Day by Day illustrates the very first month Stolas is spent living with Blitz, he goes about the day(s), living life with Blitz and while he's happy to be with Blitz, you can tell that he's also struggling.

Listen to the lyrics:

Keep it calm, life goes on, and on, and on Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong So why do I still feel this way?

Stolas is living life with Blitz domestically, going out on dates here and there, seeing how he lives, seeing how imps live, and he's just at a loss, confused, not really knowing what to do. But he pretends that everything is okay, everything has to be okay.

Anger- Stolas letting all his anger and grief from the current situation he's in out and about.

Stolas has what is essentially a mental breakdown in the span of a minute: breaking Blitz's phone (Stolas sweetie don't break your bfs phone, that's his job), ripping and tearing stuff apart, blaming himself for his stupidity for having ruined his life in order to fulfill his fantasies.

Note: When Stolas calls himself stupid for fulfilling a fantasy, I honestly think he's talking about the context of him and Blitz and their transactional arrangement. Remember, during the very beginning of their transactional relationship, Stolas was very much chasing a fantasy.

Bargaining- Making promises to do better or be better whether it be to a higher power or to yourself.

Stolas begging Octavia to listen to him, to what he has to say. Stolas is extremely desperate to get Octavia to listen to him, to get Octavia back in his life.

"No! No! Never Via, sweetie please, you have always been the only good thing in my life." "I love you Via so, so much. Please sweetie let me explain..."

Depression- A feeling of dread that feels like it will last forever, but is a necessary part of the healing process.

Stolas, immediately after getting home from the palace, sits down on the couch just to process everything. Stolas spends, what looks to be hours, sitting on contemplation- occasionally resting his head on Blitz's horns.

Note: I love how Blitz stays close to Stolas the entire time, never leaving his side, except to help decorate for the Sinsmas Party and to change into his Sinsmas sweater. Even when the Sinsmas party starts, and he starts looking content, he's always with Stolas the entire time.

Acceptance- You learn to live with the loss and acknowledge that both sorrow and joy can coexist.

Blitz helps Stolas learn to accept this new way of life, and for a moment he helps him forget all the pain as he leads them into a very romantic dance.

Stolas, for the first time since losing his daughter, is able to laugh freely and find joy in that moment, and it's all thanks to Blitz.

Stolas looks out into the sky as he realizes that this is his life now. From now on, he will have to live life of a commoner with his only solace being Blitz. The moment Stolas closes his eyes is the moment he accepts this new reality of his.

I love the tragic irony of Stolas spending the entirety of Season 2 pining and chasing after an emotionally constipated lizard to the point that he is unknowingly hurting his daughter in the process. But by the end of that season, he gets the unconditional love of the man he's in love with, only to lose the one thing he thought he would never lose- his daughter's love.

I do want to point out that I do feel bad for Stolas, but I also understand very well that this was his choice in the end. And from now on he has to live with that choice, to live with the consequences.