#what makes it worse is that it was someone really close to me

[ysrjune]

omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.

(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈

Into You ✦

Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.

You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.

So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.

When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.

“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?

Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.

It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”

And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.

Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.

The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.

Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.

You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.

What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.

She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.

At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.

You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.

He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.

You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.

Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.

“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.

You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.

“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?

“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?

“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.

But you'll keep in touch.. right?

—

You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?

He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.

You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.

Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.

He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.

—

He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.

Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.

You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.

Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.

“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.

Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?

After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.

You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.

By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.

You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.

Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.

Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.

Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.

You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.

“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.

“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”

“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.

“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.

No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”

“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.

“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.

—

He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.

It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”

—

errrm part 2 when 🤔

tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe smut #i love sam monroe #sam monroe fanfiction #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen star wars #anakin skywalker smut #rots anakin #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

[cinnamonest]

Thinking about terrible terrible boys who use Darling’s social anxiety against themselves

Kaveh who keeps you home because the world is just far too mean, just look at his roommate if you need any reminder. It’s putting himself out there that resulted in his debt, it’s the outside that caused you hurt don’t ever forget. It’s fine, he’ll lavish you enough to fill all you need, you really don’t need any other contact than himself!… and the forced proximity of Alhaitham grrr.

Ayato who keeps bringing you in important social events just to see you cling to him. He doesn’t teach you any etiquette, so you never know what’s socially unacceptable. You stand so close to him, trembling, your voice barely louder than a whisper. It serves as a reminder, see how bad the world is? All of them are vile people. If you run away, who’s to say you won’t end up with someone worse than him? (It’s terrible, how you keep waking these sadistic urges in him. He’s a good man with lots of self restraint but still a man.)

Wriothesley who got you locked up in his office. You complain about boredom, about his behaviour, but he only swat your worries away. He’s not worried about you ever running off, this is an underground prison. Criminals are the only residents, and god knows how many would have enough self control to keep their hands off if he’s not with you. Besides you’ve been here for so long, you have no place on the surface anymore. What would you do, go cry to Neuvillette? Pfff yeah, right. Try saying hello to Clorinde without trembling first.

Yes yes I am FOR this idea, also consider: Kaeya is the top tier candidate for it. He’s already in the top tier of Manipulative Bastardry, but it gets so much worse if he finds a weakness to exploit — and he’s great at sensing those.

He doesn’t mind that you’re introverted. However, he doesn’t just use the situations as opportunities to give you affirmation as a means of comforting you and coaxing you into bonding with him, no, he stoops so much lower than that. Outright taking advantage of it for his own benefit, ensuring he can use every tactic at his disposal to get whatever he wants... except "whatever he wants" actually just tends to be one consistent thing.

In the early stages, where he can pretend he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to feign ignorance to how much it would exhaust you, he makes sure to plan long public outings, watching as your energy quickly drains until you can’t bear another second in the public atmosphere and all but beg him to return home.

This gives him the opportunity to act disappointed (when in reality, he’s overjoyed it’s playing out exactly as planned) — aw, and here he had so many more things he wanted to show you before the night was over, but no worries, it’s fine… no no, it’s fine, really… and now that you’re all nice and feeling guilty, well, that will just make it much easier to coax you into giving him something to compensate for the disappointment you’ve caused once you’re behind closed doors. Maybe you��ll even volunteer it yourself.

But even later on, once he can no longer put on an act of not knowing how easily drained you are, he can still use it against you. Don’t worry, he knows you’re shy and easily tired out, you two can just stay at home tonight… besides, there’s plenty of fun things you can do alone at home, right…? Surely you’ll be able to think of something.

He, however, stoops even lower still, because he’s also willing to exploit your paranoias and insecurities, even if it means hurting you a bit. Part of the reason why you’re so socially withdrawn, he learns, is that you’re afraid of how others perceive you — I’m just annoying them, they all secretly hate me, you say, everyone thinks I’m weird…

And he… doesn’t rush to correct you or anything. Just shrugs.

Ah, who cares what they think? You already have someone who appreciates you as you are, you know.

Not denying it. If anything, it’s a subtle confirmation… he may even throw in a blatant —

Well, sure, they might feel that way, but I don’t. That’s good enough, isn't it? What do you need their attention for...?

— to really drive the point home, and throw in a bit of accusation and guilt for good measure. He likes hearing you immediately panic and stumble over your words as you reassure him that you don't need anyone else... it's adorable, and the ego boost is euphoric.

Honestly, you’re too gullible for your own good, so precious, so cute in how you fall for it so perfectly, effortless on his part. You don’t even hide your reaction in your expression, so transparent and vulnerable, the way your eyes widen with shock and you hang your head and your eyes water, giving him the perfectly opportunity to comfort you and hold you close and assure you it’s okay, they don’t matter, screw them anyway, and so on.

You’re so sweet, so pure. So much so that you almost, almost actually make him feel bad about it. How impressive.

#bro is physically incapable of not manipulating every single situation and interaction with darling into trying to get puss #.ky #q

[campingwiththecharmings]

Honey Trap

AN: Fifth fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! This is probably a little silly (and likely not very well-written) but it was fun to come up with and write so irdc lol 😌 Hope someone other than me enjoys this!

You stumble across Marc while he's camping in a remote part of the woods and he's (understandably) suspicious of you.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned) Prompt: Hiking Words: 2,427 Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader Warnings: references to death, attempted murder, knives, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Marc doesn’t trust you. 

Your story about wandering off trail and getting lost was plausible, sure, and you looked harmless enough, but he'd been around long enough to know that looks can be deceiving. 

Still, what was he to do? If you really were telling him the truth, you needed help. He couldn’t just let you wander around alone in the dark. What if something happened? What if you got injured, or worse, killed? No, better to assume the risk, to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it certainly made it easier to keep an eye on you. You’d been so grateful, thanking him profusely and promising not to be a bother. He’d waved this off of course, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you smiled at him. 

It’s late now, the moon full and high in the dark night sky. You’re sitting on the other side of the fire (his fire), your jacket zipped to your chin, arms wrapped around your legs as you try to get as close to the flames as you can without burning yourself. He tries not to keep looking at you, at the way the firelight makes you glow, but every time he looks away, his eyes inevitably drift back. There’s something about you, he’s not sure what but, it makes him feel…uneasy. Everything about you seems normal but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. His stomach rumbles at this thought and he briefly considers that he might just be hungry. With a sigh, Marc digs into his bag, searching for the rations he’d packed. His eyes meet yours over the fire as he pulls a packet of jerky out and shakes it.  

“Want some?” he asks, holding it out to you. 

You hesitate, eyes dipping to study the nondescript packet in his hand. He swallows thickly as you unconsciously lick your lips. 

“Thanks,” you say finally, smiling as you take the food from him. 

He nods, pulling out another and tearing it open. Marc’s eyes scan the surrounding darkness as the two of you eat, the slight crinkling of the ration packaging replacing the silence. 

“So,” you begin, studying the strip of jerky between your fingers. “You come here often?” 

His lips quirk slightly at the joke but he just shrugs. “Not really, no.” 

You hum, carefully chewing a bite of jerky. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

He meets your gaze, unease settling in his gut. “How do you mean?” 

It’s your turn to shrug now, pulling another strip from your packet “You just seem very…prepared is all.” 

He sniffs in amusement, relaxing slightly. “Yeah well, people do tend to be at least slightly prepared when they plan on camping in the woods.” 

You scoff, swallowing your mouthful of food. “I wasn’t planning on camping though.” 

“Maybe not,” he agrees, taking a sip from his water bottle. “But you clearly had no idea what you were getting yourself into by coming all the way out here. Seriously, who hikes without a map?” 

You snort, shaking your head at yourself. “Valid point. Obviously, I’m an incompetent buffoon.” 

Marc bites back a smile, pulling another piece of jerky from the packet. “Well at least you’re aware of it.” 

“I’m so aware of it,” you laugh, putting your head in your hands.  

He hums, his eyes drifting to you again across the fire, watching as you (presumably) mentally berate yourself for getting into this situation. What would’ve happened had you not run into him? If you had run into someone else? With no supplies, would you even have survived the night? A wave of sympathy washes over him, and he frowns at himself for going soft on you so quickly. 

“What brought you out here, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You look up from your hands, eyes tired but bright as you smile somewhat fondly. “My brother.” 

Marc raises an eyebrow. “Your brother?” 

You nod, reaching for your pack. You unzip it and pull out an understated urn. His stomach sinks. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his throat going suddenly dry. “I’m…sorry for your loss.” 

“Thanks,” you whisper, turning your attention to the urn in your hands. “He would’ve liked you, I think. Calling me out for being unprepared and all that. He was always looking out for me.” 

Marc grunts, uncomfortable now at the turn the conversation has taken given what had happened to his own brother. “Sounds like he was a, uh, good guy.” 

You nod, meeting his eyes over the fire again, the soft smile on your lips making his heart skip. “He was.” 

The two of you talk a little more, the topics now lighter and less serious. When you start yawning so often you can barely keep the conversation going though, he decides it’s time for bed. He insists that you take his sleeping bag, knowing your thin jacket isn’t enough to keep you warm until the sunrise. Once you agree to take it, he settles down beside the fire, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head. Your soft snores meet his ears in no time and he smiles to himself, glad that he was able to help someone without using violence just this once. 

He stares into the fire, watching as the flames dance, as they devour the kindling he’d thrown in earlier, as they burn through the sticks and branches he’d collected. His eyes droop, head bobbing gently as he tries to stay awake, knowing he has to keep an eye on things (on you). He thinks he trusts you, or he wants to at least, but he just can’t seem to shake that feeling. Could he really trust himself though? After everything he’s done, after everything he’s seen? Perhaps it’s you who should be afraid of him. 

His thoughts spiral, taking him in directions both logical and illogical. He lets himself get lost in it, in the scenarios, in the possibilities, each one more unlikely than the next. At some point, he must doze off, though, because the next thing he knows is the weight of a body on top of him with a knife to his throat. 

It’s you. Of course it’s you. 

Damn it, he should’ve known, should’ve listened to that niggling feeling inside him that told him not to trust you. 

It’s dark save for the moonlight—you must’ve doused the fire before making your move on him.  

“I’m sorry about this,” you say, grimacing down at him somewhat apologetically. “You seem nice, and I actually kind of enjoyed talking to you but, unfortunately, I have a job to do.” 

Marc swallows thickly, the action pushing the blade a fraction deeper into his skin. “To kill me, you mean?” 

Your face loses some of its softness as you shake your head at him. “That depends on how cooperative you are.” 

He grunts, saying nothing as he tries to assess just how bad things are for him.  

“See,” you continue, leaning in a little closer, the delicious scent of you invading his nostrils. “I need information.” 

He waits for you to continue, eyes scanning your face for any tells, any flickers he can use to his advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh in disappointment, frowning theatrically.  

“Please, Marc, I don’t wanna have to slice up your pretty face. Just tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.” 

He clenches his teeth at your condescending tone. “What do you wanna know?”  

You smile softly at him and he curses himself for the way his heart skips a little; what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Tell me about Operation Windstorm.” 

He needs to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t just push you off of him, can’t use his legs to flip you over, not with that knife so close to his carotid artery. One wrong move and he’s dead. 

So he stalls. 

Marc snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Of all the jobs I’ve pulled, that’s the one you wanna know about?” 

You continue to smile down at him, as if you know exactly what he’s doing. “I couldn’t care less, to be perfectly honest but, my client wants to know so, until I get paid, I guess I do too.” 

He grunts, resigned to the fact that he has no choice but to give you exactly what you want in the hopes that you don’t slit his throat afterward. So he tells you every detail of that job, answering every question you have, and just when he’s beginning to think this just might not end well for him, he feels the pressure of your blade ease ever so slightly. 

He wastes no time, taking control and flipping you over, knocking the knife from your hand and causing it to skitter off into the darkness. Marc traps you beneath him, your arms pinned above your head, his knees bracketing your thighs. You’re not giving up without a fight though and wriggling beneath him, trying somehow to use the position to your advantage. You try to lift your leg, brushing your thigh against his groin; the clench of his jaw makes you smirk. 

“Stop it,” he orders, embarrassed by how easy it was for you to rattle him. 

“C’mon, we both know you don’t want that,” you tease, looking down at the slight bulge in his jeans. “Has it been a while, honey?” 

He growls, your breathy chuckles sending shivers up his spine as you continue to move beneath him. “Shut up.” 

“Or what?” you whisper, somehow managing to extricate one of your legs and curl it over his hip.  

“Or this,” he says through gritted teeth, grinding his erection against your core in an effort to turn the tables, to work you up the way you’re working him up. 

It works, your eyes fluttering, lips parting in a sweet little whimper as he grinds into you slowly, over and over again. He groans when you meet his thrusts (as well as you can anyway given your position), the heat blossoming in his gut. He leans in close, his hands still pinning your arms to the ground as he gets lost in you, in the feel of you, in the way you look beneath him. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, panting as every press of his hips sends delightful waves of pleasure through your body. 

Marc hums in agreement, his lip between his teeth as he hovers over you. You want to kiss him, to taste him, to devour him. So you do, pushing yourself up to capture his lips, your tongue claiming his mouth and pulling another groan from him. You arch into him as well as you can, pulling his body even closer with your freed leg as you continue to move together. The friction is delicious, like heaven, and a part of you never wants it to end. You wish you could flip him over again, ride him fast and hard, his strong fingers digging into your hips as you pull him apart and put him back together over and over and— 

Your release slams into you at the thought, a choked moan slipping from between your lips as he keeps moving, prolonging your bliss. Marc watches you as you come, the look in his eyes is greedy as your body shakes, your face contorting into something ethereal, almost otherworldly. When you come back to yourself, you meet his eyes again, your chest heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, the wildness and lust in his eyes visible even in the darkness. You shiver with pleasure, chewing your lip as you let your gaze drag slowly down his body. You wish you could see more of him, his windbreaker doing nothing to compliment his undoubtedly amazing body. 

“Who sent you?” He pants, as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years. 

Your eyes flick back to his at the question, a lazy smile curling the edges of your mouth as you begin to move against him again, silently begging him to come for you. He swallows thickly, his body tensing with every brush of your hips, his fingers clenching and unclenching around your forearms. His eyelashes flutter as he watches you, his mouth slack with pleasure. Then he groans, giving into you, into this, his body curling even more over yours as he buries his face in your neck. He ruts against you, his movements somewhat uncoordinated as he chases his release.  

His body twitches above yours as he comes, his moans muffled slightly by your neck. Just as you’re mourning the fact that you didn’t get to see his face, you notice his hold on you has slackened a bit— enough to turn the tables, you hope. Still dazed from his orgasm, it takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing as you begin to wiggle beneath him, and by the time he does, it’s too late.  

Marc grunts as you push him onto his back and straddle him, your hands pinning his muscular arms to the ground. After everything, you should probably kill him—he’s the type to hold a grudge, the type that’ll try to hunt you down—but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. If nothing else, it’d be a waste of a pretty face. Instead, you kiss him, relishing the taste and feel of him one last time before pulling away to smile down at him. 

“Thanks for the tumble, honey,” you whisper, climbing off of him with a chuckle. 

By the time he comes back to himself, you’re gone and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. Marc groans in frustration, running his hands over his face as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened. He should be pissed, he thinks, for so easily falling into your trap but, somehow, he isn’t. He sniffs a laugh, shaking his head at himself as he moves to get up.  

Later, when he’s packing up his gear (including the sleeping bag he’d let you borrow), he comes across a folded, non-descript piece of paper that he knows must be from you. He unfolds it, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of your parting words, words that make his lips quirk in a smile.

See you around.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟 MK Bingo Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

#my fic #moon knight bingo #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #marc spector smut #moon knight smut

[lintubintu]

Kot Kot Review

I like Kot Kot a lot.

Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.

The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.

There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.

Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.

During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.

It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.

Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.

I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.

From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.

To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.

It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.

The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.

Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.

Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.

There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.

A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.

Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?

The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.

For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.

I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.

This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.

Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.

The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.

And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.

It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.

Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.

Let´s do that while we have the time.

#käärijä #kaarija #kot kot #700 words #no idea why I wrote this much #if you know don´t tell me #I seem to like this song #I like Kot Kot a lot lot #let me know what you think #all typos are due to it being 4:30am and my eyes being drIer than modern-day European soil #btw did you hear me make the chicken sound in the end? #I´m also a bird #lintu out

[apdreadful]

I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”

I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.

And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”

“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”

“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”

“How do you know about all of that?”

“That isn’t what matters”

“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”

Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”

Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”

“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”

Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”

Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”

“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug

And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.

“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”

Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?

Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.

“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”

Buck blinks “Huh”

“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.

“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”

“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”

Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.

Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”

Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”

“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”

Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”

“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”

Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”

Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”

In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”

“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”

#yes I called him both Evan and Buck #it makes situational sense in my head canon #yes this idea was part of my 3k word barf #but I’m breaking it up into bits #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #911 spoilers #bucktommy #kinley #this ship will be canon goddamn it #wrote this on my phone

[emeraldborealis]

Comfort

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, mention of nightmares, established relationship, soft Simon, no use of y/n.

Words: 1,593

You woke with a start, a clawing tingling sensation building under your skin, a spike in your breathing. Your heart racing like a derby horse, let loose with a jolt of adrenaline. Refusing to slow until falling or passing an imaginary finish line. There would never be an end to this. 

It was dark in the room, fear and panic growing even after the nightmare had ended, the memory of what it was about was quickly fading, the fear was not. 

It had all felt so real, so vivid, the touches and pain still felt like they were there, you could almost feel them searing under your skin. Wanting to burst out, become something real, something that could hurt you more than just in your mind.

"You alright, love?" The soft voice of Simon beside you helped calm your racing heart, taking a deep breath you sighed, realizing you'd woken him up with your nightmare, turning to face him you found him already looking at you, his face hard to make out in the dark, but his eyes were on you.

"I'm alright." Your voice was a little weak when you spoke. Reaching out to him in your nearly blacked out room, his familiar shape was visible to you only by the soft moonglow from a crack in the curtains. He was here, you were alright. You'd be alright. Simon was here. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

When your hand connected with the worn fabric of his sleep shirt he pulled you closer, holding you comfortably to him. "Another nightmare?" Gently he cradled your head in his hand, bringing it to rest under his chin, you felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

You'll be okay. You'll be alright. 

"Yeah." Closing your eyes you pressed further into him, breathing him in, drinking down his natural scent, it was soothing. Simon was a man you could trust, one who would never hurt you. He was a man who would part oceans of people for you, a man who would scare away the fear constantly bubbling inside of you without complaint. "How'd you know?"

"The shift in your breathin' woke me up." Gently his fingers started massaging into the nape of your neck, keeping you close and comfortable. He was an enigma to you, someone so hurt yet still so gentle. Not with everyone, but with you he was.

"You sleep that light?" You knew he was a light sleeper, but you didn't know it was to that extreme. A pebble of guilt began to build inside of you. He must never sleep when he sleeps with you. 

"Unfortunately." His hand traveled down your neck, trailing up and down your spine, his fingers pressing firm enough to feel the notches of each vertebra as he went. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I don't remember most of it, just the general feeling it gave me. It was a bad one." You moved more into him, you wanted to cry, wanted to scream. You were so sick and tired of these nightmares, never ending, never relenting. There was something fundamentally wrong with you, there must be, for rest to be more tiring than not sleeping at all. 

You hadn't been through what Simon's been through, haven't seen the same brand of hell he has. You didn't have the right to complain to him, not when he's objectively been through worse. You weren't loved right, you saw things, went through things, but those weren't comparable to him. 

"That's alright." He brought you ever closer, letting you move on top of him. If you could fall and sink into him you would in a heartbeat. Settle inside his bones, let them be a protective cage, keep everything else away from you. "So long as you don't want to talk about it because you think my nightmares are worse or some shite like that."

He's chastised you more times than you can count about not wanting to talk to him about your problems, told you just because things could be worse doesn't mean they're not hard.

"No, well, yes yours are probably worse. But I really don't remember this one, still wouldn't want to talk about it if I did. I just like to try and forget them." Laying your head over his heart you let his steady heartbeat stabilize you, gravity taking the few tears from your eyes and making them fall onto the fabric of his shirt. 

Your hand laid on the other side of his chest, fingers rubbing small circles, your pointer and thumb pinching his shirt. You hated this, hated when you'd wake him up with your nightmares, hated having them at all. Simon needed someone better than you, someone who wasn't damaged, someone who wasn't just as scared as he was to go to sleep at night.

"I understand." Simon laid his hand over yours on his chest, holding it gently. "Just because the water could be deeper doesn't mean you can't be drownin' where you are. Trauma isn't a competition, I know you've been made to feel it is your whole life because people want to silence you. But talk to me, I'm 'ere for you, darlin'."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard, I'm trying." Turning your head you rested your chin on him, looking up at his face, his beautiful face. The first time you saw it you couldn't even speak, it was the face of the man you love. There was nothing else you needed to say about it. There was nothing else anyone needed to say about it. If people didn't see it for the beauty you did, then that was their loss. "They just- never stop."

"I know. I know. I understand." The pad of his thumb gently swiped under your eye, a frown coming to his face when he felt it was wet with tears. 

Scooting up his body you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. "Don't frown, they're just dreams. Hurts for a while, but I'll be alright, you're here. I'm okay. I'm okay." You repeated it just as much for yourself as him. 

"I wish you could sleep peacefully through the night, I wish you didn't have bags under your eyes from exhaustion. I wish I could keep the nightmares at bay. I wish you wouldn't have to understand this pain like I do." His hands moved to rest on your back, rubbing up and down.

"Life is pain, isn't it? Everyday we can go through hell, and we just keep living, just keep going. Isn't that persistence what life is? What makes us human?" Gently you moved your fingers over his face, trailing the bridge of his nose and shape of his eyebrows. "My dreams are not something that are allowed to define me, that hell is not going to be who I am. But I'd be alright if when all was said and done I was known for loving you." 

"Known for lovin' me? It is a 'eavy task." Simon chuckled, kissing your nose.

"That's not what I was saying and you know it." Pushing on his chest you sat up, half straddling him. "And it's not a 'task', loving you comes as naturally as breathing, so don't give me that crock of shit." 

"Alright, I stand corrected." His hand moved to rest comfortably on your hip, softly squeezing it. "I'd like to be known for lovin' you, above all else. I'd like for my time spent with you to be the thing my life is associated with."

"It's a 'heavy task'." You mocked his words, mimicking his voice in an obnoxious manner. 

"Alright enough of that." Sitting up Simon wrapped his arms around you, falling backwards he pulled you back down to lay with him, ignoring your noise of surprise he kept a tight hold on you, preventing you from being able to move. "You're perfect." The playfulness was gone, replaced with a soft tenderness. 

"But I wish I was flawless, I wish I knew what it was like to live a life without this burden. I wish I could just be like everyone else. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't know what's causing these dreams. I just want them to go away." Your voice wavered as a lump formed in your throat, a burning coal. Sniffing you tried to hold back your emotions.

"We'll get you to the point you can sleep through the night without bad dreams soon, I promise. I'll find a way to turn those restless dreams into somethin' peaceful. Soon you'll feel fine, no more eyebags, no more nightmares." It wasn't something he could guarantee, but the conviction in his voice silenced all of the doubts in your mind. 

"You make things better, when I wake up to you I remember I'm alright. I don't know what I'd do without you." Taking a deep breath you relaxed yourself, settling yourself so you can start trying to go back to sleep.

"I'll always be 'ere, love. Get some rest. I'm 'ere." The feeling of him kissing your temple furthered you into calming down. Closing your eyes you nuzzled into him. 

"Let's have something good for breakfast, but you make it, and you clean it up, and I just partake." You mumbled sleepily into him.

"Fuckin' 'ell you're a twerp. We'll see." His comfort was all surrounding, holding you safely, it kept you warm and calm. He was all you needed, all you wanted. Waking up to him would always be the reason for you to fall asleep again. 

#x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cod fandom #cod #angst #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley call of duty #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader

[sugarwavelove]

Dearest older brother...?

Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.

Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)

You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it. 

“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”

You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure. 

He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them. 

The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling. 

But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother. 

Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life. 

No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point? 

“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.” 

It's the same thing every time. 

He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more. 

Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling? 

You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness. 

Things get worse though. Of course they do. 

You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die?? 

So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back. 

As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall. 

It's Sunday. 

He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force. 

You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you. 

“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall. 

Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it. 

No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on. 

Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate. 

He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time. 

You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.

You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit. 

To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.

#honkai star rail #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #found family trope gone wrong #platonic relationships

[jflemings]

— let the light in

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: for jessie’s benefit, you end your relationship

warnings: depression, bed rotting, suicidal ideation, self depreciation, isolation, toxic!reader if you squint

a/n: take the warnings seriously and look after yourselves pls <3

as much as you knew you needed jessie, there was no way you were going to allow yourself to hold onto her so tightly. it was a repeated and ongoing cycle that you had been trapped in for years now and it seemed to only be getting worse.

“we can’t be together anymore” you murmur into your half empty cup “i can’t do it”

jessie sits across from you with her mouth agape. “if i’ve done something wrong i can fix it” she says, her voice cracking slightly as she pleads “this can be fixed, let. me. fix. it.”

a heaviness settles behind your eyes as you shake your head “there’s nothing to fix. i’m sorry”

it was as easy as walking out the door and leaving her sitting in her kitchen alone. the bag of your things had weighed your shoulder down as you dragged your feet all the way to your car, not once ever looking back in fear of turning around.

it left you here, laying in bed with the curtains drawn and your phone on do not disturb as you stare blankly at the wall. you had become a shell of the person you think you once were, someone who had hobbies and dreams, someone who wanted to build a life worth living. instead you take sick leave so that you don’t have to get out of bed, you let the dishes pile up in the sink when you do decide to eat and you clear a pathway out of your shit on the floor so you can get to your ensuite bathroom.

the numbness that had overtaken you didn’t allow you to cry, no matter how much you think you wanted too. you were drained. there was nothing left for you to give yourself. it was sick, really, the way your brain could play tricks on you and make you believe you weren’t deserving of the life that you have been given. why would you be? there was absolutely nothing to show for it. all you had was a bed with dirty sheets and a brain that told you death was better than anything else you have ever experienced.

your therapist had told you once that because you hadn’t acted on it, it was merely a way for you to cope without committing. a way to wallow, to escape, from a life that you weren’t ever sure you wanted in the first place. she said that people who have depression but don’t kill themselves will fantasise about it but not pick a date or a means to an end.

only, at one point, you had picked a date. you had closed your eyes and twirled your finger in the air before landing on a wednesday two weeks away. you’d marked it with a red dot and then began clearing out things you didn’t want, giving your belongings to charity or throwing them away before neatly organising what you had left. you thought that your family could decide what to do with them. you didn’t care, you were gonna be dead after all.

it was when your coffee machine had finally broken on you that morning did jessie come swinging into your life. you decided to go to a local coffee shop you liked when she pushed the door open too hard and smacked you square in the face. she had gone bright red and apologised profusely, telling you that the door had slipped out of her grip and that she didn’t even see you. you, with a hand pressed firmly to your forehead, had told her that it was okay, that it was just an accident.

maybe it was her smile, or the way her eyes looked when you actually made eye contact, but something about the canadian had stopped you dead in your tracks. she asked if you wanted to sit with her with the promise of not hitting you in the face again, to which you agreed with a laugh. you began telling eachother about yourselves, from where and how you grew up to hobbies and small quirks you had. when the topic of careers had come around you sheepishly told her that you didn’t watch football beyond the odd match when it was already on tv, and she had beamed at you and cheekily said that she’ll make a blue out of you in no time.

you didn’t go through with it, obviously, and jessie still doesn’t know that she quite literally saved your life that day. your relationship with jessie quickly blossomed and bloomed, soon becoming the most grounding thing in your life. jessie showed you that she loved you long before she told you and never once did she make you feel like you weren’t loved, there were just times where you knew you were hard to love.

like in the beginning when you’d practically ghosted her for three days and then came back with a half assed explanation and a bouquet of flowers; or when you’d completely shut her out and pretend like nothing was wrong when she could see the bags under your eyes and the mess around your apartment. you knew that her friends had told her that it wasn’t a good relationship to be in, that maybe you weren’t who she thought you were. she had brushed them off and ran back to you time and time again.

looking back on it you think that maybe it’s because she knew how bad it was getting, like she caught onto your badly kept secret before you even knew you really had one. when you had initially told her about your depression you insisted that you were doing a lot better and that even though you would have times of relapse, it was nothing compared to how it had been in the past.

the lie had kept up until there were things you were too ashamed to explain to her. like why she couldn’t come over or why you looked like you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks. you didn’t know how to tell the footballer that your mental health had sipped out of your control, that you needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. you didn’t know how to look your own girlfriend in the eye and tell her that you needed her.

that was when you knew it had to end.

when jessie came around to collect her things you just left them in a box outside your front door. you heard her knock but didn’t move from your position as she left with the last pieces of her you had.

she wasn’t stupid, despite the fact that for most of your relationship you clearly thought she was. she noticed the change in your behaviour and how you didn’t go out with friends as much or eat enough. she noticed the late night and even later mornings, the pile of dirty laundry you’d been putting off and the pills you tried to hide.

jessie wasn’t stupid.

when she pleaded to you to fix it, she meant fix you. she wanted you to take the weight off your shoulders and put it on hers because hers are stronger than yours anyway, they can hold more. she wanted you to let her help with the laundry, and to help clean your place. she wanted you to let her wash your hair and make you a good home cooked meal. jessie wanted nothing more than for you to be vulnerable with her, to admit that you needed her just this once.

as much as you adored her, absolutely worshiped the ground she walked on, you weren’t going to do that for her. jessie has a decorated career, one to be proud of, and the last thing she needed was to worry about whether or not you were going to get out of bed in the morning. she didn’t need the extra weight from your baggage dragging her down.

she deserved better, someone who could get up early enough to go for coffee after her morning run, someone who could actually make dinner with her and eat it, someone who didn’t have to create a fucking pathway from their bed to their bathroom because they haven’t cleaned their room in god knows how long. jessie deserved someone worth loving and in your mind, that someone just wasn’t you.

#pegs writes #pegs woso #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming angst #jessie fleming blurb #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso angst #woso blurb

[romanticintheory]

Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.

AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(

also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.

johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)

-

-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.

-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.

-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.

-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).

-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.

-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.

-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.

-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"

-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.

-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.

-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.

-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"

-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"

-"come live with me."

-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.

-"what?"

-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?

-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).

-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.

-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.

-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)

-"you hurt me!"

-"oh, please."

-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.

-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.

-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.

-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.

-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.

-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.

-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).

-"you're injured. you came home late."

-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.

-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.

-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"

-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.

-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.

-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.

-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.

-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.

-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.

-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"

-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"

-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.

-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.

-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"

-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?

-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.

-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.

-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).

-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."

-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.

-"it isn't?"

-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"

-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.

-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.

-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.

-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.

-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.

-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.

-"no, just of you."

-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.

-"oh."

-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.

-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.

-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.

-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.

-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.

-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"

-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x you #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish imagine #johnny soap mactavish imagine #soap imagine #cod mw x reader #soap x y/n #johnny mactavish x y/n #rarawrites

[dariwrites03]

Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said,  sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself. 

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her. 

 Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper.  You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper.  It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship?  Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five. 

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected.  "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your  patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood.  But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil.  "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it  stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up.  Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore. 

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff  ''You can meet sophia  and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know.  But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying'' 

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue.  Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie."  His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #joel and ellie #the last of us #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie #writing #tlou fanfiction #ellie fanfic #ellie fic #ellie williams angst #elliexreader #ellie x fem reader #f reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #jesse tlou #Jesse #jesse the last of us #dina and ellie #dina tlou #joel the last of us #thelastofus #tlou part 2 #tlou game

[casualfruit]

As much as I understand the fandom’s general negative reaction to Shuro, I can’t help but feel bad for him. I’ve been both Laios and Shuro in that situation. It’s heartbreaking to suddenly find out that someone you considered a close friend actually hates you; it’s agonizing to be friends with someone you can’t stand, but don’t have the guts to tell them how you really feel. Then the repressed frustration finally reaches critical mass and explodes out all at once, making an already painful experience that much worse for both parties.

I was raised on the idea that if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all—and telling someone you don’t like them is not nice. Even the calmest, most non-judgemental declaration that I don’t want to be someone’s friend comes with a boatload of guilt. At the same time, I know that the longer I wait, the more hurtful it will be—I’ve also been on the other side of this predicament, and it was devastating—which also makes me feel extremely guilty.

When I find myself in an unwanted friendship, I often find myself acting like Shuro: dropping subtle hints and slowly trying to distance myself until the other person either takes the hint or just moves on. It’s even worse when you share mutual friends because that can cause an entire friend group schism, which means even more people get hurt by this one sour relationship. You might even get ousted from the group altogether (again, this has happened to me), or the other person might get ousted, which comes with yet more guilt. Is it even worth it at that point? Maybe it’s better to silently tolerate this one person for the sake of maintaining the peace. I know it’s selfish, I know it’s not fair, but it feels so much easier to stay quiet and nod along than to have a confrontation and risk losing a huge part of your support system.

Combine that with the fact that Shuro is/was in love with Falin… god, I really have no idea what I’d do in that situation.

TL;DR Shuro isn’t evil, he was stuck in a difficult position and badly mishandled it due to his upbringing and his desire to maintain a positive relationship with Falin (and presumably everyone else aside from Laios)

#Dungeon Meshi #Shuro #Toshiro Nakamoto #Laios Touden #@ any friends/mutuals reading this post: this does NOT apply to you #my post

[mysadblacksoul]

Backslide - 3/13 of the Clancy album

Grab a coffee and let's start this madness

MV

Tyler is wearing the same clothes that he wore in Overcompensate MV to I would assume that this MV takes place right after

Let's break down the signs first

We see the return of Ned Bayou as well as FPA, now standing for Food Petrol Etc.

You can buy 9 buns for $21, love the symbolism

There is a Jim sign omg. Baby is having his own bubblegum business

Of course the Bishops sign with 9 lines marked on it

I could've sworn that the black sign says "Dema Vapes", but looking closely I believe it's "Velma Vapes" lol

What is more, the cones (?) are yellow and I'm pretty sure that the fact that there are 5 of them is not an accident

They sold him bread that went bad lol. Nah for sure it's not the case since he gives the same bread to a child

But I believe that the scene and the lyrics are closely tied with Stressed Out

Now the next scene is interesting

I think that the bad weather is a simple metaphor for feelings of anxiety or fear

We can see that Tyler was contemplating then he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts

This is when the scene changes to normal, right? Exactly on the line It's over my head

Then we move to the scene with the kid

And I really believe that this little lad is personification of Ned

Like he has the same boba eyes lol

No but for real, this is parallel to Chlorine - kid is giving Tyler a cup just like Tyler gave to Ned. Yet he accepts it and drinks whatever is inside and Ned just shudders

Another interesting thing, that could make my point more valid is that the kid literally asks Is that a stain? You should change / Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? like he knows Tyler very well and is in a way looking out for him

It's like he's keeping Ned by him - okat I'll stop

It might be a stretch, but the N kinda looks like a mirrored band symbol, do you also see it?

If 0.75c is equivalent to the cost of one bun than Tyler is being ripped off since he paid $21 for the pack instead of $6.75 lmao

Something is really wrong with those buns lmao

Then the mood changes again, but this time is even worse. Like his mental health is declining even more and even faster

The bread is wet, the day is ruined, thanks Mr. Joseph

You killed it Josh, love your creative mind

*funny music stops*

Now let's talk about the way how the MV is looping itself

I would say that it is a demonstration of the twisted circle that is life

Maybe it's a very basic analysis but I think of all the complicated lore-oriented MVs this one is uncomplicated

What is shown here is how our psyche can play tricks on us and how we can complicate a rather simple situation ourselves

If Tyler hadn't had dark thoughts then nothing would have happened to the bread, so he would have just gone and given it to Josh

This shows how our psyche itself can abolish the situation in which we find ourselves

Looping, on the other hand, shows that as long as we don't do anything about it ourselves, we will be stuck in this fishbowl (see what I did there?)

Maybe it's one big AD to check your mental health and a sign to try to get better

Lyrics!

Rat race, place to place, adding weight / Tendencies on repeat, innit? - rat race for sure happened in Dema, and repeat is literaly the loop, innit meand that Clancy is canonicaly British

Benefit from a shoe with no lace - shoe with no lace would make you fall back on the behaviour that you are running from

Take the seat with the crease in it - seat of someone who already tried to change their life, or even who had the same dreams and hopes for better future like Clancy

This could be parallel to When I leave, don’t save my seat/ I’ll be back when it’s all complete from Chlorine

I don't care, you control me / Leading me anywhere - well, all I should say is Dema don't control me and we all know the rest of the story

I don't wanna backslide to where I've started from - he doesn't wanna go back to his back habits as well as doesn't wanna go back to his life before he tried to escape

There's no chance I will shake this again - if he falls back one more time that will be the end of him. His psyche won't take it anymore and his plans will be buried

'Cause I feel the pull, water's over my head - this is parallel to Fall Away And I, I can feel the pull begin. But it also gives me the parallel to Holding On To You MV, the scene with the rope

Strength enough for one more time - like I said, this would be the last attempt to change everything

Reach my hand above the tide - it could indicate that his physical strength is also wearing out

I'll take anything you have / If you could throw me a line - again with the line. But it also can mean that he can endure anything now, he just needs a little helping hand

I should've loved you better - this line can be directed both to himself but also to the person who extends his hand to help. He might not have appreciated both parts before and now regrets it

Do you think that now's the time / You should let go? - This line is like both a request and an apology. As if he wants to say “I'm sorry I treated you badly before but please don't leave me when I need help”

Bad place, on a hundred-dollar bass - this line is also giving me Stressed Out. You can imagine the cheap bass being transported on the bicycle right?

Kinda wishin' that I never did "Saturday" - I think that he doesn't mean the MV irl lol, but the regret of taking part in Bishops' manipulation altogether

Is that a stain? You should change - a play with mentioning Saturday and the lirycs She said that I should change my clothes

Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? - like I said before I believe that this is Ned looking out for Clancy, wishing him well

Thanks for asking, in a way, but / Accidentally uncovered a new one yesterday - safe to say that he is not doing better lol

What happened to what I brushed under the rug? - what happened to how well he used to be able to hide his problems and true feelings

I used to be the champion of a world you can't see / Now I'm drowning in logistics - if viewed as a fact that he created this world it now looks like he wants to regain all control over it. Logistics is to take care of the management of planning. And once again we see the mention of drowning

The bridge is acting as an externalization of his myhs and fears that even if he is outside the Dema, the Bishops will still have control over him

The entire song is about both regaining conrol over the world of Dema but also regaining control over himself, his psyche.

The main theme is about not going back to old habits.

The most important thing here is progress and pushing forward.

Because one wrong move can make all the work in vain and we will sink to the very bottom.

Safe to say that I liked it haha

#band #emo bands #emo #emo quartet #twenty øne piløts #twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #skeleton clique #tøp clique #twenty one pilots theories #twenty one pilots clancy #clique as frick #clancy #clikkies #backslide

[peachyjinx]

On The Edge- Chapter 3: The Hunger

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: Loki, as usual, is a big flirt and driving you crazy. You finally find out why you can't orgasm (this chapter is all plot).

Warnings: This fic kind of goes into the non-consensual realm, Loki really is a jerk. But also he's also a sexy mischievous God so I'm into it...

Day 21

Ok things are definitely desperate now. You thought you were desperate weeks ago, but this is a whole other level. You laid sweaty in your sheets, hopelessness creeping in as you stared at the ceiling. The early morning light shined in, giving your room a soft, warm glow. 

This time, you had tried mixing it up while you masturbated, and thought of Eric. That kind, handsome man who looked like he walked straight off of the cover of a bodice ripper in the 90’s. Yet still- no orgasm. 

Eric had been out of town for work, so you’d still been unable to test Wanda's theory with a real dick. And to make matters worse, Loki had been insufferable. He’d increased his flirtations with you, which you can’t help but suspect is because he knows you and Eric are talking. 

Now Loki blatantly hits on you, and you thought you might die when he caressed the small of your back the other day when the team gathered for a meeting. It’s as if he’s constantly teasing you, keeping you right on the edge without relief. 

And it doesn’t help that none of the Avengers are currently on a mission. Everything has been calm, and all of your co-workers are around, making you even more stir crazy. You’ve busied yourself with museum trips and hanging with Wanda and Vision, but it’s not enough. 

But relief was just around the corner. Today Eric gets back, and the two of you have yet to make plans. You decide there’s no way you’re giving in to Loki now, especially with his performance at the fair and the fact that he only seems to want you when you’re interested in someone else. 

You took a deep breath, trying not to let yet another missed orgasm cloud your judgment as you texted Eric. Play it cool, and not like you’re miserably horny and in aching need for a good fuck. 

Hey, do you want to meet up tonight? 

Within a minute, Eric replied.

Yea, that’d be great! Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there ;)

A stupid grin spread across your face- you loved how easy it was with Eric. Here he was, excited to see you, and not teasing or messing with you in any way. Just available. You imagined Loki and Eric as a little devil and angel on your shoulder like those old cartoons and chuckled to yourself. You’ll go with the angel- it’s probably a better decision in the long run. You shook your head as you stood out of bed, mentally shaking off Loki and embracing Eric. 

What was it your grandma always said? “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone!”. You smirked to yourself, knowing how much it would piss off Loki to see you dating Eric. Good.

BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP

Suddenly, the alarms went off, and your eyes darted to the flashing red light in the corner of your room. OF COURSE there’s a mission when you’re literally hours from finally getting thoroughly fucked. 

-----

Day 23

Your mind wandered to Loki casually walking through the staff showers the other week. The way he sauntered with just a towel around his waist as he walked past you. You thought about his chest, strong and powerful, begging to be kissed. His abdominal muscles, perfectly carved and ready for you to run your nails down. That peek of hair below his belly button, trailing towards…

You snapped out of your intrusive and horny thoughts. 

You could feel his eyes on you as you looked anywhere else but his direction. The quarters were too close, Loki sat only a few feet across from you for the last hour. The Quinjet was quiet, but your brain was humming with anxious, dirty thoughts. You tried to focus on the equipment piled against the wall of the aircraft. 

You realized you were fidgeting with your feet and stopped, and stole a glance at Loki. Those piercing eyes were watching you, studying you. You felt yourself squirm as you immediately looked away. What is his problem? Your eyes drifted to Steve and Wanda in the cockpit flying your team home, and tried to figure out how much longer until you were back in the tower. Back to Eric.

The moment the aircraft landed, you jumped out of your seat, texting Eric with an update on your availability. 

“You seemed a bit distracted,” Loki chastised you as he followed you off of the Quinjet. You rolled your eyes, trying to move as quickly as possible to the showers. It was dinner time, and you were hungry for more than a meal. And you had a date- a sure thing.

"Whatever," you muttered as you marched down the hall, opting to go back to your room to clean up instead of the staff locker room. You were not in the mood for Loki’s shit tonight, you had a more serious mission- to have an orgasm. 

You stood at the elevator, ignoring Loki as he walked up behind you. You felt his strong hands wrap around your waist as he pulled you up against him. 

“Hey- what are you?-”, you could barely blurt out in shock as you looked around, wondering if anyone saw what he was doing. 

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,” he purred in your ear, sending a chill down your body, making you shudder. You could feel his strong chest against your shoulders, his breath on the back of your neck. You had never been more turned on in your life, and your eyes closed for a moment as you felt yourself begin to melt into his body. Memories of his flirting, teasing, and dickish behaviour at the fair flashed through your mind.

You weren’t going to let him do this to you- toy with you because he was bored. The last month had been hell, and he has been making it infinitely more difficult. The flirting. The touching. And now…

All of your annoyance and pent up sexual frustration bubbled up and you exploded. 

“First of all, I was never distracted in the mission! And second of all, I can’t take this anymore, Loki!! Do you want me or not?! You’ve been fucking with my head too much, I can’t take it anymore!! Stop flirting with me, I’ve got a date tonight and I don’t need you messing with my head!!,” you screamed, stomping as you whipped your body away from his. 

Your face felt hot from anger and lust, and you glared at him, pointing a finger. His expression was even more enraging. Loki looked at you as if you were a sad puppy begging for a treat. Pity? He knowingly smirked at you as he always did, stepping to close the gap between you that you had created. 

“Family dinner downstairs, 5 minutes!”, Tony’s voice rang out over the intercoms.  

“God damnit, I have HAD IT with you people!!,” you stormed onto the elevator, holding up a hand to show Loki you didn’t want him to follow.

“What’s another few minutes before you’re off to your date with that buffoon?,” Loki asked, his playful demeanor irritating you. 

“At least Eric’s a nice man. Something you’d know nothing about!”, you spat out while glaring at him as the doors closed.

~~~~~~

Your shower was frenzied with anticipation. Your anger at Loki, not getting off, and desperation for release was all consuming. Every time your mind drifted to Loki holding you up against him, you shook your head and thought of Eric. 

Thankfully, this would all be resolved after dinner. You quickly threw on a cute outfit for drinks with Eric, and headed towards the dining hall the team shared for your “family dinners” as Tony liked to call them. 

A beautiful buffet was spread over tables featuring fresh fruits, roasted vegetables, game bird, and breads. It smelled amazing and reminded you that you were famished. 

“I could get used to these- it’s one reason to keep Loki around,” Nat elbowed you as you all sat down to the large table, with the enticing spread before you. A few weeks ago, Loki had created a similar spread for you all, and your stomach growled excitedly because you knew this one would also be delicious. 

You sat down next to Nat and immediately began filling your plate like your teammates. You saw Loki out of the corner of your eye and you ignored him. But of course he sat next to you. Could he irritate you any more?  

“My, you seem hungry this evening,” Loki noted, and you felt yourself immediately suspicious. What is this game? Why is he always messing with you?

“Well I need a full meal- I’m going out tonight and don’t want it to get too messy,” you snarkily responded, still not looking at him. 

“Ah, yes off to your date with that oaf, ” he drawled as he delicately picked at his food, not eating. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact- I am. And his name is Eric,” you snapped, acknowledging his presence with a glare. You tried not to focus on Loki, but you noticed he wore a black three piece suit with no tie, and the top buttons of his dark green shirt were unbuttoned. You reminded yourself that he’s also an asshole, and you had another hot man who wants you, and you needed to continue to focus on finishing your meal so you can get out as soon as possible.

Loki leaned closer to you, his breath hitting your ear as he lowered his voice. 

“What's the matter Darling, unable to bring yourself to completion on your own?", he asked, before leaning back with a knowing smile. 

“Huh?”, you eloquently replied, trying to assess what he meant. Did he mean…?

Loki leaned forward, his hand snaking to your leg under the table. Your cunt clenched from the electricity of his touch, and you felt your breath hitch. Loki leaned in close again, and you could swear you felt the touch of his lips on your earlobe. 

“Have you been unable to bring yourself the release you so achingly crave? Your lustful fantasies not bringing you the results that you need?”, Loki practically purred in his deep, melodic voice. 

You felt your heart sink in your chest as your cheeks heated up. How did he know? Your mind raced through a million thoughts a minute as you tried to piece together what was going on.

Loki knew you couldn’t orgasm. How did he know? Did Wanda tell him? You looked at him in shock, a devilish smile spread across his face as he popped a grape in his mouth.

“Loki…how did you know that?,” you asked as calmly as you could, trying to keep your voice down so no one could hear. You glanced around the table, and everyone was engrossed in their own conversations, not paying attention to the two of you. 

“Eric will be unable to satisfy you,” Loki spoke Eric’s name with a hint of venom as he sipped from a glass of wine and continued to ignore your question.

You sat still, confused for a moment.

How did he know that?

“What are you talking about??,” you asked with distress, looking into his icy blue eyes. He is so close, you can smell him- warm, leather undertones with a crispness like the pine trees in a forest on a cold day. You begin to feel dizzy, the heady thoughts of wanton sex and anger building in you. His hand drifted a bit, closer to your inner thigh. Your mini skirt gave easy access, and he was dangerously close to where you needed him. A small moan escaped your lips and Loki smirked. 

Loki reached forward on the table and offered you the exotic Asgardian fruit he'd conjured up, holding it up to your mouth to bite. 

“I remember you loved this fruit the last time I conjured one,” Loki showed you, the fruit was pear shaped and peach colored.

“Loki answer me,” you said with a warning in your voice, trying to replace your neediness with sternness as you set down your silverware.

He nodded to the fruit, and then his blue eyes flickered back to you.  You searched his eyes for answers, when a memory flashed through your mind. The fruit. 

Nearly a month ago. When you had all gotten back from that mission in Vancouver. Loki gave everyone a spread of Asgardian dishes when you got back to New York, since none of you could decide on where to order from. A flick of a wrist and you were all feasting like royalty.

Your mind acted quickly, finishing the puzzle. 

The moment on the bench.

 Loki flirting with you. The fair. 

“Are you quite parched, Darling?” 

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,”

"You seem hungry this evening…"

LOKI DID THIS. 

“Loki…,” your voice shaking as you looked him in the eyes. You could see a glimmer of mischief as he watched you put everything together. 

“...you’d didn’t by chance do anything to me…did you?,” you asked, removing his hand off of your thigh as you turned to face him. 

A wry smile slowly spread across his lips, “And why would I do that?”.

He’s testing you, teasing you again. Like he has been for the last few weeks. Ever since you had that fruit he gave you, you’ve been unable to achieve orgasm. 

You stared at him, a storm of emotions swirling in you- anger, violation, and desire. You could feel your heart racing, and you weren’t sure what you’re going to do next, but you knew you needed to leave the room. You suppressed all of your emotions, slowly getting up from the table. 

“Excuse me,” you forced out before quickly leaving your co-workers, trying not to raise suspicion. 

You moved as quickly to the elevators as you could, but Loki was faster. You felt his iron grip around your wrist as he twirled you towards him from behind. 

You instinctively shoved him away, " You ASSHOLE!!"

Your eyes were seeing red from the rage that’s built, your hands shook as you glared at the handsome prince standing in front of you. 

"Tsk tsk, I wouldn't advise you to touch me like that again, unless it were to lead to more romantic intentions," he casually warned you with a slight smile. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?! You POISONED me?! Why did you do this?! Why did you have to torture me?!,” you screamed, not holding back any more. 

Loki reached out and grabbed your arm again, quickly pulling you closer to his body.  He towered above you, his breath skirting your face. His expression was serious now- he was no longer playing.

"I could have easily taken you. Cornered you in any room of this godforsaken tower. Taken you like you so desperately wanted…,” he paused for a moment, and then a slight tug of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

“...but where's the fun in that? I wanted to tease you, make you come to me, begging for release,” Loki had pulled your body closer to his. 

For a moment you felt the heat in your veins shift to lust again. His strong grip on your arms and the intensity between the two of you at its peak clouding your judgment. You found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any kind of regret, or an apology. Nothing. You regained your senses and tried to ignore your lust that was overflowing for this man, despite his cruel actions. 

“Oh like hell, I'm not begging you for shit!,” you insisted, determined not to let the intimacy of the moment take you over. Loki chuckled darkly. 

“You can only find release with me. Nothing- and no one else - will sate you,” he replied matter of fact. His blue eyes were bright as he was clearly enjoying the chaos he had unleashed in your life. 

A wave of hopelessness spread across you, at the mercy of Loki. You thought briefly of how much you lusted after this god, cared about him, only for him to choose this path. He was right, he could’ve easily fucked you any time, any place. But he chose to curse you instead. 

A huge smile spread across his perfect lips revealing his perfect teeth and your anger flared up again. 

“I’m going to smack that grin off of your face, why are you smiling like that??!”, you demanded, desperate for all of this to be over. 

“The spell will only work when the subject- you- has lustful intentions for the creator- me. And I love being right”, his hands dropped down to your hips, pulling your body flush with his. 

“Beg me,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing the hard bulge in his pants against your stomach. You felt your hips instinctively buck against his and you heard yourself whine. Again you suppressed your desire, using all the restraint you had. 

You summoned all of the courage you could, defiantly looking back in his eyes, “No.” 

His eyebrow raised but his knowing smile didn’t change. You wriggled from his grasp, turning from him and quickly walking towards the elevators, not looking back as you stepped in and selected the floor for Wanda’s room.

------

“A curse? Wow, that’s a bit much,” Wanda looked at you confused after you gave her a summary of the last hour of events in her bedroom. 

“I’m just so mad, and annoyed. And to be totally honest, I haven’t come in like a month so I’m trying not to get distracted by my pent up horniness. Can you please remove his spell?,” you implored with a wearied tone. 

You couldn’t tell her that under all of that anger, you were ignited with lust. Loki wanted you, yet had kept you edging for nearly a month. On the precipice. He teased you and taunted you. And all you wanted was release, and now you knew you could only get it from him. Exactly what you had wanted since the day the two of you met. You felt so conflicted, saying no to him in the hallway, while the fire inside you raged for him. You felt yourself starting to panic, pacing in Wanda’s bedroom. 

“Breathe,” Wanda gently held your arms so you were facing her, prompting you to slowly breathe with her. You felt yourself calm a bit after a few moments. 

“Of course I will do anything I can,” she gestured for you to sit on a pillow on the floor while she gathered candles and herbs.  

You sat down and slowly breathed, centering yourself. Wanda created a circle with candles, and sat down across from you on a large fluffy pillow. She set down a small cauldron between the two of you, lighting the herbs sitting inside.

“Okay, I need you to remain calm while I try this, try to clear your thoughts as much as you can”

You groaned and complied, trying to just focus on the moment and the earthy smell wafting through the air, pushing out any thoughts of Loki.

Wanda closed her eyes, concentrating hard as a red aura wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried to remain calm. Wanda began chanting in a language you didn’t know, and you continued to clear your mind of any thought just like Dr. Strange had taught you in your meditation lessons. 

“I can’t lift it, I’m sorry,” her sad voice prompted you to open your eyes. Her face was covered with disappointment as she slowly shook her head.

“What? Aren’t you a witch?!”, you heard your voice raised more than you had meant to and immediately felt guilty.  

“He’s way more advanced than I am, he’s got centuries ahead of me. Plus, he's a God. I’m sorry, I can’t,” Wanda reached out and grabbed your hand to soothe you as she could see your mood shift again. 

You huffed in frustration for the millionth time in nearly a month. The reality of everything suddenly came crashing down and you lost it. 

“FUCK!!” you screamed, prompting Vision to appear in the room suddenly, phasing through the wall. You pulled your hand from Wanda, grabbing your head in frustration as your eyes focused on the cauldron on the floor. 

“It’s okay Vis, she’s just frustrated,” Wanda assured Vision, gesturing for him to leave the room.

“What am I gonna do?,” you looked at Wanda, you could feel the tears of aggravation building in your eyes. This all felt so overwhelming. And exciting. It was so confusing, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. 

“Well I think you have to fuck Loki,” Wanda remarked with a smirk, coaxing a small smile from you. 

She’s right, and it’s everything you’ve wanted for months. Reality hits you when you realize Loki is into you. Loki wants you. Desperately. The memory of a few moments ago, when he had his straining cock pushed up against you, passed through your mind again and you felt a wave of heat all over, and your cunt clenched with need. 

“Give me your phone,” Wanda put out her hand, nodding thoughtfully at you. You sighed, unlocked your phone and obliged. Wanda opened your messenger app and began to type. 

“Wait- what are you doing??”

“I’m canceling your plans with Eric,” she looked at you and raised her eyebrows like a big sister who knows best. 

“What! No, why?”, you were trying your best not to get mad at Wanda, she didn’t put you in this position. 

“Loki said Eric can’t make you come, and Loki’s the one you want, anyways! You obviously need to get laid, not to mention this massive crush you have on Loki, too. Now go and get fucked already!,” Wanda enunciated her point as she finished her text to Eric.

You sat, bewildered for a moment about the events that had unfolded. You didn’t even bother to open the texts to see what Wanda had sent Eric. You knew it didn’t matter.

“Thanks Wanda, I think I need to be alone for a few minutes before I do anything. This is all a little much,” you felt the roller coaster of emotions slowing down, and you just needed to recoup and make your plan.

“Of course, but I think we both know where you should go when you leave this room,” she chuckled, escorting you to her door. 

You mustered out a small smirk as your nerves began to set in. You slowly left her room, your mind swirling with the way everything had unfolded. Mindlessly, you entered the elevator and looked at the floor number buttons, not sure which to choose. 

You were mad, but unbelievably turned on. He could’ve just fucked you. Instead, he chose to tease you mercilessly, edging you for nearly a month. You were sopping wet now, unable to ignore the wetness pooling in your panties. You knew that the moment you surrendered yourself to him, it would be erotic bliss like you’ve never experienced. 

What do you do?

Should you go directly to his room and finally succumb to your desires?

Or make him suffer for what he’s put you through?

Give in?

Or torture him like he did to you?

-----

Author's Note:

Pick the chapter based on which decision you want to make :)

Chapter 4- Submission

Chapter 5- Tease

On the Edge Chapter List

#loki smut #loki #loki x reader #loki series #dom!loki smut #dom!loki x sub!reader #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction

[theonotti]

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Years have past since the Battle of Hogwarts, and through his grief and desperation, Theo fights to get back every second lost since then.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo), it's just angst lads

Notes: Been a while! But I'm back with some writing! This fic will be 3 parts in total. Shoutout to @classyartisanpizza for letting me write this idea! <3

Masterlist

~

The nightmares are the worst part.

It's always the nightmares.

Theo wakes with a start, his chest heaving as he abruptly sits up. It takes a moment of his eyes darting around in fear for him to realise he's simply in bed. No battle. No green bursts of light flying inches from his head. No bodies dropping around him.

He closes his eyes, running his hand down his face to rid the beads of sweat rolling down his skin. Though he forces himself to take deep breaths, his heart continues to race. The room feels so warm. Why does the room feel so warm? His chestnut curls fall over his eyes, slightly matted to his forehead, and for the briefest of moments, he considers shaving his head.

The vivid technicolor of the nightmares always gets him. Blaring realism and exaggerated memories have him waking in a panic without fail.

A hand runs up Theo's lower back, followed by a soft voice speaking in tongues and distortion. A chill runs up his spine as his fight or flight kicks into high gear, causing him to jump off the bed and point his wand directly at the perpetrator.

Daphne Greengrass stares back at him, looking mainly annoyed yet mildly confused as she wraps the sheet around her naked form. There's a long, tense silence as the two of them stare at each other, and despite knowing there's no threat, Theo doesn't bother to lower his wand.

"I thought I said no sleeping over."

His voice is clipped, a stark contrast from the sultry tone he had taken with her the night before. Then again, he doesn't ever have to work in order for Daphne to become putty in his hands. Not really. Him putting on the show just makes him feel better about using her.

She sits up slightly, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Even in the dark, the blush that fills her cheeks is unmissable.

"You fell asleep and I-"

"That's not an invitation."

You're such an asshole, He tells himself. But he can't help it. The point of the rule was so that he'd never have to wake up to Daphne. She's not ugly, or entirely terrible to be around. But his care for her only extends to the point of what she does for him. A means to an end. And the end is to distract him from the never ending abyss of his mind and the standing void in his chest.

Besides, that spot in the bed belongs to someone else.

Belonged-

No. Belongs.

Another beat passes before Theo realises that his wand is still raised, and he finally lowers it to his side. Although he should feel worse about his overreaction, he's only a slight tinged embarrassed. It's being overshadowed by his annoyance.

Daphne takes a moment to stare at him, her eyes searching his face for the humour that never comes. A quiet sigh of relief escapes his mouth when she finally climbs out of his bed and starts to get dressed.

"What are you doing later?" She asks while pulling her shirt over her head.

The clock on the wall reads quarter till three in the morning.

Theo tries to hide his smug irritation at the fact that she's already trying to plan when she sees him again, despite his complete disregard for her only moments ago.

When he doesn't respond right away, Daphne looks over at him, throwing a sock off his floor right at his face. In another life, with another person, Theo would've found this gesture amusing, but right now, he just stares at her in exasperation.

"I'm busy."

Merlin, you're a fucking asshole.

But Daphne remains unfazed as she pulls her jeans up her legs and fastens them.

"Maybe next week then? I'm working all weekend."

And despite his self awareness, Theo just can't fucking help himself.

"I'll call you."

Now he's done it. The sting ripples through her face as she pauses all movement, her eyes falling back on him. Under her confused gaze, the temperature in the room falls, but Theo keeps his expression neutral. For a long moment, they just stare at each other in tense silence, before finally Daphne breaks the prolonged eye contact to finish putting her trainers on.

"I don't understand why we keep doing this, Theo," She says in a low voice as she ties her right shoe. It's clear she's trying to be more confident in her words than hurt, but she's failing. "You clearly don't want to commit to me or even care about me. Why do you keep phoning if you can't be bothered?"

Theo leans his back against the wall, his shoulder brushing the door frame of his bedroom. The words leave his mouth before he's able to process them, or to consider not saying them.

"Because you always come running."

Twenty years on this planet and you still don't know when to shut your bloody mouth.

Daphne looks appalled as the words hang in the air. Despite the fact that Theo's guilt is radiating off of him and filling the room at a suffocating rate, he continues to say nothing else. An eternity later, she snatches her coat off the floor and storms out of the room, slamming Theo's bedroom door so loudly that he flinches, followed by the slamming of the front door of his flat.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Theo pushes off the wall, walking over to his bed and collapsing on top of the covers.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

As he buries his face in the pillow, desperate to go back to sleep, his mind starts to drift back to the nightmare that started the domino effect events of the evening. A chill runs up his spine for a second time as he dives head first into the dreams that haunt his subconscious damn near every time he closes his eyes.

The falling bodies.

The walls crumbling down.

The flashes of bright green flying passed his head.

The set of eyes. His favourites. Watching as the life drains out of them.

Theo abruptly jumps out of his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he walks briskly to the door and throws it open. His flat is dead silent, save the sound of his footsteps across the hardwood floor. Through the darkness, he can make out the faint outline of his black cat moving quickly across the floor towards him.

"Piss off, Shadow," He mutters to the cat. She doesn't seem to notice his hostility as she continues to move between his legs. But he's quite rehearsed in this dance at this point, and manages to cross the pitch black living room without tripping over her and falling on his face. He makes his way to the spare bedroom, the room that used to be where he worked on his potions.

That is, until more important projects grabbed Theo in a chokehold.

Unlocking the door with his wand, he quickly goes inside quickly, making sure the cat didn't follow him through before shutting the door behind him.

~

"Mattheo, I'm fine."

"Is the kidnapper in the room with you and forcing you to say that?"

Theo rolls his eyes, rubbing his right eyelid with his free hand as his other one stirs the brewing potion in the cauldron in front of him. His phone rests on the desk next to him with his best friend's display name taking over the screen, the call on speaker.

"You think a kidnapper would willingly keep me?" He asks as he lets his free hand drop back to his wooden desk, accidentally into a puddle of spilled potion that had toppled from the cauldron. Making a face, Theo instinctively wipes his fingers off on his jeans. "They'd return me before you'd even realised I'm gone."

Mattheo lets out a quiet laugh before saying, "You're right. I'd say we could use the break, but no one's seen you in weeks."

Theo lets his other hand drop to the desk, sighing exasperatedly.

"Mate. We've just hung out. At the Leaky Cauldron, yeah? When Malfoy got so piss drunk, he fell in the toilets and smacked his face on a sink."

The memory causes a ghost of a smile to form on Theo's face, but the silence on the other end of the phone causes it to fade just as quickly.

"Hello? Did I lose you, Riddle?"

When Mattheo speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

"That was two months ago."

Every single muscle in Theo's face slackens.

"What? No. That can't be right. It was just two weeks ago, yeah?"

"No, Theo. It was two months ago."

Shaking his head, Theo grabs his phone, switching to check the date as he stammers whispered denials, more to himself than anything. But Mattheo is right. Two months have passed since that last hangout, and besides the occasional mess around with Daphne, which he assumes are now over since the debacle a few nights prior, Theo hasn't seen anyone else since.

Where did the time go?

You know where the time went.

"We're really worried, mate," Mattheo says in a soft voice. "I know it's been hard, but-"

"Don't," Theo barks, almost instinctively as he sets his phone back on the desk. He knows where this conversation is going, because this is where the conversation always goes.

"It's been almost three years, Theo."

Theo shakes his head, his eyes closing as the air slowly starts to syphon from the room.

"It's not- Surely I can't be expected to just forget."

A quiet sigh rings out from the other side of the phone, as Theo fights to keep his rising emotions in check.

"Of course you wouldn't forget. We just-"

Theo quickly shakes his head, not wanting to hear the same things he always here's when one of his friends decides to play therapist for him.

"Oh shit, I've just remembered I have better things to do than have this conversation."

Theo lifts his hand towards his phone, with the intent to hang up, when he heard Mattheo's desperate voice quickly calling to him.

"Meet in the Three Broomsticks tonight!"

Theo pauses, staring at his phone as his brain starts its usual war on itself whenever someone wants him to do anything that isn't rotting at home. On one hand, going out with his friends would placate them for long enough that they won't have yet another conversation like this one. But on the other hand…

He's close. He's so close to figuring it out. And any time that isn't dedicated to figuring it out is, in his eyes, a complete waste.

But as he stares down at his best friend's name on his phone, he lets out a heavy sigh.

"Piss off."

He can practically hear Mattheo's smug grin in his voice.

"See you there," He says, before promptly hanging up the phone.

A heavy sigh forcing its way out of his mouth, Theo turns back to the cauldron in front of him.

You need a break.

Maybe stepping back for a night and coming back will trigger an epiphany.

Theo lets out a resigned sigh. The last thing he wants to do is step away. When he's away from the work room, he feels like he can't breathe. When he's not working or researching or planning or even contemplating, he feels like he's drowning.

In his head, he's running out of time. But with every centimetre closer he gets to the finish line, he gets another centimetre closer to getting every lost moment back.

~

The remaining butterbeer swishes circles at the bottom of the glass as Theo twists it with his wrist. A quiet yet fake laugh comes out of his mouth, if only to mix in with the loud, howl-like laughter surrounding him from whatever funny thing Blaise just said.

Merlin, I should've gotten a firewhiskey.

Though, he knows it would've been a bad idea. His tolerance for alcohol has grown concerningly high over the last few years, and he doesn't want to explain why he would've been fully functional after seven hard drinks while his friends would be well beyond wasted.

So he sips his butterbeer under the guise that he has an early morning the next day. If he had more observant friends, they would see through this excuse, but fortunately for him, they tend to miss a lot when it comes down to the quiet, chestnut haired lad whose mind is rarely on planet Earth.

"Oi. Space Cadet. Can you join us for a moment?"

Theo takes a casual drink from his glass as his eyes land on Malfoy.

"Give me something worth joining in on," He quips as he gently sets the glass back down on the table. The blond rolls his eyes as Mattheo and Blaise both let out a chuckle.

"We were just talking about the Harpies. Whether they'll make the cup," Mattheo explains just as the barmaid approaches with their refills. The fresh butterbeer is set down in front of Theo at the same time as he lets out his own laugh. A genuine one, this time.

"The Harpies will make the Cup the same day Malfoy stops bleaching his hair."

Now it's howling laughter from the two other lads as Malfoy slams his mug down on the table, pointing at Theo maliciously.

"Don't start your bullshit, Nott."

"I saw the bottle in your trunk, Malfoy. Third year. One never forgets."

"I don't bleach my fucking hair, and if you say it again, I'll make sure you can't see it ever again."

Theo doesn't miss a beat.

"Is that a promise?"

As Riddle and Zabini keep giggling, the alcohol already to their heads, Theo keeps his wits about him as he stares at the tip of Draco's finger that's still only inches from his face.

"Stand down, Malfoy," Blaise finally interjects. "You've become entirely too serious since getting hitched."

The silver band on that left fourth finger glints in the dim lighting as Draco pulls his arm back down towards his lap. Despite his recoil at the scolding, his eyes don't quite stop glaring their daggers towards Theo, who takes another unbothered sip of his drink.

"Maybe it helped me grow up. Someone should take a page out of that book."

Theo feels his fingers tense around the glass, the heat rushing to his cheeks.

Prick.

Prick.

Absolute wanker.

Dead man walking.

If my life hadn't fallen apart, I would've been married by now. Maybe I'd even have kids.

A wave of nausea hits him at the thought. Instinctively, his eyes shift to look at the door, as his mind searches for his excuse to leave. If his shift in demeanour isn't obvious to every person at the table, it definitely is to Mattheo, who quickly clears his throat.

"Anyone hear about the hunt for whoever's trying to replicate the time turners?"

Theo's entire body ceases, his throat trapping any sound or breath from escaping, meanwhile his brain starts to race at speeds he has never experienced before. The conversation shifts to this topic as Theo desperately tries to remember how to breathe.

"What's the hold up?" Blaise questions before he empties his glass. Mattheo does the same while lifting his shoulders into a shrug.

"Whoever is doing it, they've covered their tracks quite well. But the Ministry has their best people trying to find them before they're able to muck up anything."

A quiet murmur fills the silence of the table. Sweat beads Theo's forehead as he accidentally chugs his entire glass. No one appears to notice, to his relief.

"How are they able to track that?" Malfoy asks curiously as he drums his fingers against the wood top table.

"A time turner has an Hour Reversal charm encased in the centre," Mattheo explains. "The Ministry is alerted every time one is cast, but whoever is doing it has protected themselves so much that their location is damn near impossible to track." Mattheo pauses to take a drink before he continues. "If it wasn't so infuriating, I'd be impressed."

A slight smirk crosses Malfoy's face before he says, "I take it the 'Ministry's best people' includes your team?"

Mattheo rolls his eyes, though the slight pink hue that covers his cheeks is unmissable. Despite him being nothing like his father, Mattheo has always been slightly embarrassed by his position in the Ministry. While Zabini, Malfoy and Theo all view it as a growth and a middle finger to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Mattheo sometimes views it as a betrayal, though he only mentions it after he's hit a certain point of inebriation.

"It is a job for the Misuse of Magic department, in my opinion. So yeah, the best people include my team."

Silence fills the table as everyone takes a sip of their drinks. Theo swallows the lump in his throat.

And then he speaks.

"Any evidence that they've been successful?"

The table turns to look at him, and he does his best to appear casual when he shrugs.

"Just curious."

Mattheo shakes his head.

"We'll be alerted if they actually go back," He explains. "Which will lead to their arrest, if they continue to use the Hour Reversal charm."

"Doesn't that only go back five hours?" Blaise asks, receiving a nod from the curly haired man to his right. Theo can feel the impending panic rising in his chest, but he swallows it down.

In theory, it's only five hours.

But with a little tampering, it's longer.

Not that I would know.

No sir.

"Not unless they do something to strengthen the spell," Mattheo says casually. "Like some sort of potion. Or enchanting the sand in the Hourglass."

Theo's face goes slack, and it feels like his entire body grows hot.

There it is.

That epiphany.

His eyes fall back onto Mattheo, the room glowing in a new light as a chill slowly trails down through his extremities and his fingers and toes.

Instinctively, Theo tries to stand before he realises he's in the corner seat of the booth. The rest of the table looks at him in surprise.

"Nott?" Malfoy asks as Theo uses the table and the ledge behind the seat to launch himself over Mattheo and the booth, out into the aisle, only making their shock grow further.

"Fuck, sorry I forgot. I need to- I have-" He stammers, knowing full well nothing he says will be able to explain his sudden change in demeanour. The looks on their faces are the same sort of looks they'd have if he had stripped down in front of them and started screaming like a banshee. He closes his eyes, putting his hands out in front of him as he takes a second to calm down. When he speaks again, it's with less urgency. "I need to go."

And with that, Theo turns and sprints out of the Three Broomsticks.

Before the door swings shut behind him, he can make out Mattheo's distant voice shouting his name. But if any of the lads make any attempt to follow, Theo moves too fast for them to have any sort of success. Once out of the village, Theo apparates back home.

Where he stays for almost ninety six straight hours.

He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He barely leaves his office to use the bathroom. And he definitely doesn't shower.

Theo's marathon is filled with work. The spell strengthening potion alone takes sixteen hours to brew, needing close management. And that was after all of the work he needed to put in in order to put the potion together. Meanwhile, he does an appalling amount of research, scouring text upon text about how one would enchant the sand. When he comes up with next to nothing after twelve hours worth of reading, he moves on to Plan B.

He starts to create his own spells.

It's not the first time Theo's dabbled in spell creation, but it is the first time it's something that's more serious than trying to make Malfoy's farts come out as actual bubbles. (A failed experiment, much to his thirteen year old self's detriment.) But this time is different. Hanging over the desk where he works is the picture of his motivation. And every time he starts to feel like he's failing, he looks up at the picture and a new resolve fills him.

Because he can't fail.

Failing isn't and never will be an option.

Every botched attempt leads to more research. Every new piece of information brings him that much closer.

Until, after almost ninety six hours of what he thought was going to lead to nothing, the moment is here.

He pulls the time turner out of the cauldron, and he can feel it. Despite having used the tongs to pull it out from the potion, Theo can feel the silver metals vibrating with magic, and that's how he knew.

It worked.

His hands tremble in the same manner as he reaches to touch it, almost hesitant from the anxiety that is running rampant in his head. But when his fingertips graze the warmth of the metal, nothing happens. Nothing changes. He looks around the room for a brief moment before looking back down at the makeshift Time Turner in his hands.

Spinning his chair around and leaning back, he examines the creation. His mind is quick to resume his doubts that it didn't work, despite the pure confidence he had just a moment before. Couldn't have worked. Because nothing he's done in the last few years has.

And yet.

There's only one way to find out.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he props it up on his knee before he turns the screen on.

And then, he gives the spindle in his hand a turn to the right.

Theo can feel his heart stop as he watches the minutes on his phone go down with every tick of the Time Turner.

It worked.

It actually fucking worked.

A tsunami of emotions runs through Theo, overwhelming him so strongly that he has to turn back around to lean on his desk. For a moment, he lays his head on the desk, in the cradle that is his arms, basking in the darkness as he takes three long, deep breaths.

And then he looks up to the picture on the wall.

To his motivation. To the one he's been working for.

To the picture of you.

"Did you see that, pretty girl?" He asks in a gentle voice.

The spell hits your chest.

And the life leaves your eyes.

His voice is a little choked as he raises the Time Turner to the picture on the wall, wishing once again it was actually you and not just a moving idea behind a piece of paper.

"I'm coming for you."

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction

[anti-endo-haven]

⚠️ sorry rant fueled by that anon you don't have to post this if you want that just really kind of ticked me off. tw fusing and dormancy mentions and lots of angry and frustration about this topic and mentions and descriptions of our personal experiences with fusion and dormancy that was not at all positive, even if as a result of healing

⚠️ VERY TIRED of the "don't tw/cw dormancy or fusion!! its HEALING!!" crowd. because while yes this is OFTEN the case you have to also realize that THIS. IS NOT THE EXACT SAME THING FOR EVERYONE. and both of these, HEALING OR NOT, can be incredibly distressing. both of these things can also happen as a result of extremely negative things. NOT just healing. two introject alters we had who were previously in a subsystem fused as a result of extreme stress and as a result of the other who was formerly a persecutor (janus) reforming and no longer needing the other (cesar) to stabilize and to reenact harm upon. they became incredibly close after the janus recovered and it was an incredibly stressful, painful process for janus full of grieving. tiny's mother in system was in and out of dormancy repeatedly for months as a result of extreme stress and trauma done to her, which horribly destabilized our system and resulted in tiny grieving and grieving and grieving!! fusion and dormancy can be A SCARY THING just because it can happen due to healing and often does DOES NOT MEAN it is always surrounded by and full of happy positive emotions. it can be TRAUMATIC. PLEASE stop invalidating people and what they need trigger/content warned christ

^^^^^^^^^

You can only spew your experiences but others have severe trouble and stress with dormancy and fusion, not everyone wants final fusion either. (/nay ⚠️)

Functional multiplicity is just as an okay a healing path as final fusion.

If people have trauma related to something that might be healing for others, let them take it at a pace right for them. Healing cannot be forced. And you cannot be the one to force it.

If someone is also healing and forcing themselves to get past it, it only makes matters worse. We still struggle with this and it has only made us worse for wear and hardly able to function.

#anti endo #endos dni #did system #system #actually did #osddid #traumagenic system #endos not for you #did plural #actually traumagenic #did plurality #osdd plural #tw dormancy mention #tw fusion mention #☎️

[oceansssblue]

Pairing: Platonic Therapist Echo and Omega.

Theme: Hurt/Comfort

I don't have an exact sentence, but this happens after Season 3 Episode 8. Omega expresses that she endured worse on Kamino than on Tantiss. Much worse.

During a subsequent talk between Omega and Echo, Omega alludes to how dark, and horrific, her past on Kamino is.

I understand if you're unsure about doing this, but I would absolutely love it if you did.

Non romantic oneshots aren't really my thing, but this request did lit up interesting ideas in my head, so why not?

One angsty heartfelt conversation with these two sweethearts coming right up, & some comfort too!

Hope it is what you imagined!

Xx,

Sky.

"QUIET NIGHTS"

TBB REQUESTS –NON ROMANTIC ECHO&OMEGA 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: REFERENCES TO DARKNESS, LONELINESS, KAMINO&TANTISS&ECHO'S TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. TECH LIVES BECAUSE I SAY SO.

It was one of those quiet nights. Crosshair was out on a date. Tech had dissapeared with Phee hours ago; Hunter had quickly retired to his bunk after experiencing a strong migraine, and Wrecker was sound asleep too. However, Omega couldn't find her own sleep; and quickly taking a glance at his brother's room, he saw that Echo couldn't either.

Her naked toes quietly advanced in the direction of the cockpit. There he was; Echo sitting in the copilot's seat and staring distractedly through the window, out to the stars on Pabu's peacefull night. By the expression on his face, Omega knew his mind felt anything but that; Echo's frown transforming his features into something painfull. She wondered if he was having nightmares too.

"Bad memories?" She quietly asked, jumping onto the pilot seat besides him.

Echo sighed, still staring at the stars.

"Yeah" was his only quiet answer, and Omega gave him time.

She thought on her own nightmares for several minutes; trying to reorganize her thoughts.

"Are you having trouble sleeping after Tantiss?" Echo then asks, finally turning in his chair to pay her undivided attention.

Omega shrugs.

"Kinda".

Echo's features fill with sympathy.

"Must have been horrible, being trapped in there" Echo shudders, remembering his own experiences with closed spaces.

To his surprise, Omega shrugs again.

"Not really" she answers, strangely unbothered. "I mean, it's not like I wanted to be there... But I've had it much worse".

Echo stares at her, and Omega feels like she needs to explain herself. Her feet come up to rest on the edge of the seat, chin resting on top of her knees. She's unconsciously making herself small.

"Kamino. That was worse than everything".

Silence fills the room.

Echo frowns. He had had his own fair of bad experiences with the long-necks and the way he and his brothers were treated; but that being worse than being on Imperial control?

"How so?" He carefully asks.

Omega's answer breaks his heart.

"Loneliness. My days in Kamino were dark and challenging; same in Tantiss. But at least while staying in Tantiss I knew I had you, even if you weren't there. In Kamino, before I met you all..." she pauses and flinches with the memories of her past. "I didn't have that. Didn't have the knowledge that you'd be waiting for me, looking for me. That I had someone on my side. That someone cared. That I wasn't alone. In Tantiss I remembered all the happy memories I had with you all. It gave me hope. In Kamino... It was terryfying being so alone".

Omega hadn't meant to say as much; but once she had started talking, the words had flied out of her mouth. Echo's patient and listens carefully; eyes filling with understanding and left hand slowly extending towards her. When it lands on her shoulder and squeezes gently, Omega relaxes and sighs. Her big eyes turn back towards him.

"Did you..." she hesitates. "Did you feel alone when you were with the Techno Union, Echo? Or you... didn't feel anything at all?"

Echo's experience has always been a banned theme of conversation in the Marauder; but Omega asks with no malice, almost begging for someone to understand her, and Echo feels like she's revealed so much of her own feelings and thoughts he kinda owes it to her. He loves her sister so much... If sharing trauma will make her feel better and help her process her memories best, he'd tell her anything she asked for.

"I did, yeah" the tremble that breaks througj his body at remembering is inevitable. "I wasn't conscious all the time, but in the middle of the dizzyness and confussion, i remember being scared and terrified. I didn't understand what was happening most of the time. Sometimes I did. I just wanted to go back to my brothers, out of that... Thing, to be freed. To be me. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings in the world, yes."

It somehow soothes some internal part of him, speaking it out loud. Maybe this conversation will serve them both good.

Omega reaches out and mimicks his previous gesture; squeezing his shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Echo. I'm so happy I have all of you now..." her voice is soft and reverent.

Sadness dissappears from Echo's eyes. He looks at her; at how her features have morphed from a kid's to a teenager and then continued changing to a young woman. They're lucky to have her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that too, Meg" he answers, quietly, gently.

He gives her a small smile, and stands up offering his hand to her.

"How about we both try to nap together, troublemaker?"

Omega smiles. It feels him with warmth.

"Alright" she agrees, slipping her hand onto his and walking with him in the direction of the bunk room. "A pair of hours is better than none. Cross won't be happy we invade his bed for the night, though".

Echo snorts.

"The motherfucker still complains about his perfectly comfortable bed when he's well aware I still sleep in a hammock" he mutters, then grins at her. "He'll be alright".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Pretty short but I didn't feel the need to expand it longer. Feelings everyonee. Hope you liked it!

Xx,

Sky.

PS. cryptic pregnancy w Hunter coming up next!

Back to my main masterlist here:

#star wars #clones #fanfic #tbb #clone wars #echo tbb #fics #omega tbb #tbb omega #hunter tbb #tech tbb #wrecker tbb #non romantic #light angst #comfort #request #tbb echo #bad batch echo #arc trooper echo #echo and omega