#i am so sorry about how angry and bitter this sounds

[big-idiot-wolf-boys]

Hi! I saw your tags on the poll and I was wondering if you could talk a little bit more about why you dislike living in the PNW? I've been trying to move there so want to get a local's opinion. Ty :)

Oh shit i don't want to do anything to shatter your dreams but be warned this is the one topic i am very bitter and jaded about. Please ask someone else too because while I hate living here other people DO love it and you should make an informed decision!

Being said.... here we go. I've lived in the Seattle adjacent area my whole life. In fact my family has been in the area for six generations and all of us hate it here more than the previous generation as we've watches the area develop. Maybe I just come from a bitter and jaded family. Maybe my specific town or county is the problem. I don't know. I'm not going to break this into bullet points or organize my thoughts or anything I'm just going to ramble.

But as the years go by, everything has gotten more expensive. But despite the raise in sales and property taxes, the area is less and less maintained. The roads are abysmal. The Public works projects such as maintaining shrubbery to ensure sidewalks follow ADA clearance and pedestrians can be seen, have been thrown to the wayside. The schools and other public buildings arent maintained and often just get replaced after they start falling apart. Every year there is less of a welcoming feeling to the area. Every year beloved businesses and entertainment venues are closing down and being replaced with churches and bars. Conservatives are creeping into the area and shutting down YMCAS, qanon maniacs are being voted into mayoral office. I have personally ripped down pro nazi flyers at the ELEMENTARY SCHOOL here. The drug problem is seemingly unstoppable. Regularly there are reports of millions of dollars of coke and fentynal being seized by the feds. People are dying every day in large quantities from the drugs. Ive watched a lot of people i love lose themselves to drug induced psychosis. Thefts and burglaries and violent crime related to drugs are rapidly on the rise. 1/3 of my hometown is unhoused and thats only people who have reported/admitted to it. Not counting couch hoppers and people trading work for housing at hotels. The schools are getting worse by the year. The elder of my two younger brothers graduated because they were giving out answers to end of year exams to boost their graduate stats, probably because of previous drop out rates. 23% of MY graduating class, including myself, dropped out because the quality of the education was so awful they just got GEDs instead. Violent crime is on the rise, especially around notable twilight locations such as Forks and Port Angeles. The numbers vary but in my specific town you need to make a minimum of 27/hour to afford a single bedroom apartment. If you can find a job that pays that much or an apartment. Good luck because it's not very likely. Last summer a woman asked a community page the same thing and specifically asked for info on what the area is like for teens. She ignored a lot of comments about the negatives from teens themselves and moved here anyway. This summer she posted her son has gotten into drugs and run away from home. I hate to say it, I know it's tasteless, but she should have listened. Cause and effect maybe. I hope her kid comes home safe. I also hope she learned a lesson about not ignoring advice when she asks for it.

I stay here because my family is here. My partner's family is here. Our jobs pay decent. But if I were single and impulsive, I'd bail the fuck out of this state as soon as I could.

Yes, it's beautiful here. Yes, there's cool festivals and parks and museums. But the PNW is not the land of dreams or opportunities unless you have a lot of money and resilience to facilitate it.

Make the choice that's best for you, anon. But please don't forget the negatives because you can easily get sucked into a life of drugs and poverty.

#not twilight #thanks for asking! #anonymous #v talks #i am so sorry about how angry and bitter this sounds #i am really trying to not spew negatives and trying to reframe my mindset about this place #i want to love it i really do #but i am also sick to death of seeing people act like the pnw is only good

[gaypirate420]

Little sound // Jasper W. Hale

Jasper Whitlock Hale x male!reader.

Summary: You question vampiric sleep while Jasper makes a little sound.

A/N: Breaking Dawn Jasper deserves more love, me thinks.

Angst/Fluff.

"Which pillow do you want?" You asked him while you made space for him on your bed, Jasper pointed to your thighs.

"These ones, please." He spoke with a smirk, you chuckled and take off the blanket that lay over your legs.

The blonde vampire smiled and he went down, placing kisses on your thighs before he opened them gently and lie down his head on your stomach.

Jasper seemed tired, mentally at least. You're not sure if vampires get sore muscles or something like that but he needed to lie down and relax, it was evident from a mile away.

The vampire sighed heavily, his cold breath hitting you, his hands quickly got to caress your warm skin.

"I missed you." You spoke softly as your hand got to his recently cut hair.

"I know, I'm sorry, been busy with— Bella." Jasper scoffed.

Tired, he was so incredibly tired, done even, done with everything and it made you sad because it was something out of your human control and comprehension.

"What's with her?" You asked curious about his reaction, it was very out of character from his part.

"She got turned, darlin'— she just— has this crazy control over her newborn instincts. It's impressive— but-" He said bitter, almost angry, not angry no, jealous.

"But— Am I not trying hard enough? Or I'm just unfixable?" Jasper asked softly, very softly almost like he didn't meant to say that, his tongue betrayed him completely and revealed his thoughts.

"I think you're trying hard— the hardest you can— you have come a long way, Jasper. I'm proud of you." You spoke serious. The vampire stayed silent while his finger stroke your skin.

You stroke his hair, you felt how his body got weak in an instant and a sigh left his lips.

"I missed you so much, my darlin'." He whispered and his cold lips kissed your thigh, you giggled at the sensation but he continued.

Despite the fact that he's been talking to you everyday and bringing you flowers every weekend, it didn't felt like that because he hasn't had the opportunity to stay.

To be with his darling, his most special boy.

You looked down at him, his golden eyes looked up, you bopped his nose and he chuckled.

"Pretty." You whispered and bopped his cheek, Jasper smirked, his cold hand went up.

"Handsome." He whispered back and bopped your cheek, you mimicked his smirk and lean down to kiss his forehead.

Your fingers returned to stroke his hair, he took deep breaths, useless for his body but at least the illusion seem to help.

Jasper closed his eyes, letting his mind relax, melting comfortably under your touch and resting on your soft thighs.

You stayed silent, playing with his hair and caressing his pale face from time to time.

Vampires can't sleep, at least that's what Jasper told you but you have a theory that maybe they enter a deep meditating state.

Because there's no explanation for the level of calmness Jasper seems to be in when you cuddle with him. He's sleeping in your mind, resting along side with you.

The vampire sometimes even moves like one would do when asleep, losing or tightening his grip on you, mumbling things and everything. It was fascinating and comforting knowing he felt so much peace with you.

——————————————————————

One of your hands was busy stroking his hair while the other scrolled through your phone.

It's been probably an hour or two, you looked down at Jasper, you smiled softly at the image that lied infront of you.

He's asleep, call yourself stubborn because nothing could convince you otherwise, probably when you become a vampire yourself you'll understand, but right now, he's sleeping, completely asleep.

There's just no way that the man laying between your thighs is wide awake.

You stopped everything you were doing when you noticed a sound. A small and soft sound.

It's coming from Jasper.

You smiled and put attention to the small noise. He's snoring? It was a soft rumbling and it stopped the moment your hand didn't stroke his hair.

So you moved your fingers again, and he made that sound, your fingers moved down to his neck and it became louder. You got closer.

He's purring.

He's done this before, but you thought you were making it up.

You stayed silent, shooked, enjoying this moment, and discreetly recording it with your phone, the purr was very soft, you don't think Jasper is even aware his body is having this reaction.

You could feel the soft vibrations of his chest as he did this soft purring sound.

You kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings before you grabbed a blanket and throw it over him, Jasper just snuggled further on your thighs.

He then spoke, and his words were drowsy, sleepy mumbling.

"I love you." The vampire spoke softly, you kept stroking his hair and he kept making that soft purring.

"I love you too, cowboy." You whispered back with a smile on your face.

"I- have things to do, darlin'." He whispered when he noticed the blanket, he opened his eyes but close them again almost immediately.

You suppressed your comment about him not allowing himself to rest and have a nice moment.

"Shhhh, you have centuries left to do whatever you want. Just rest now. Sleep, it's okay." You spoke softly, Jasper shaked his head but didn't move an inch.

"Vampires can't sleep, doll." He protested with a slight slurry voice, you chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully.

"Sure thing, Jazz." You said, he placed a kiss on your thigh before he returned to continue his 'no sleep'.

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

A/N: heyyyyy how y'all doing? Hope you liked this!

#jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper hale x male reader #twilight x male reader #twilight x reader #the twilight saga #effervescent #x male reader

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #angst #comfort #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk rin #✩ vie writes

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello, love your work so much!! Could you do one where the antagonist has betrayed the protagonist (their lover) and their friends but instead of handing protag off to whoever like the friends, they’ve been allowed to keep them to do whatever because they’re very very off the rails obsessed with them and very possessive of them too? Sorry if it’s specific and thank you!! Have a lovely day :)

"You can't be angry with me forever, love," the antagonist said, from the doorway. "Would you rather have been taken away with them?"

The protagonist said nothing. They seethed with everything they wanted to scream, with the accusations ready to be hurled like missiles to end the world. Too much.

"I told you I'd protect you," the antagonist continued. "That I'd always protect you."

"This is protection?" It spat out before the protagonist could stop it. They gave the chain around their ankle a rough shake.

"From yourself."

The protagonist barked a bitter laugh. They clamped their jaw shut again.

"From the world," the antagonist continued. They moved further into the room. "There are many people out there who would hurt you, take you away from me."

"Seems like a blessing to be taken away from you!"

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, I do. Come closer and I'll show you just how sincere I am."

The antagonist stopped just out of arm's reach.

It reminded the protagonist of the handover. Their friends bundled bound and thrashing into the backs of vans, still reeling from the anti-magic pulse and the betrayal of it all, until the protagonist was the only one left.

The governor had turned towards them, had started to move forward with all of his goons, before he'd seen the look on the antagonist's face and the way their body wrapped around the protagonist. Gravital orbit. A warped black hole of a love.

"Try," the antagonist had said, almost pleasantly. Almost.

The governor had not tried.

The governor had flinched.

"I understand that you feel betrayed now, you loved your friends," the antagonist pressed. "You're good like that. But you'll come to see that separation from them was for the best."

The protagonist squeezed their eyes shut and wished they could block the poisonous words so easily.

How could they have been so wrong about their lover?

"They were a bad influence," the antagonist said.

"You mean they weren't you."

The antagonist paused.

When the protagonist looked at them again, the antagonist's head had tilted, curiously. They didn't seem offended.

Bile burned in the protagonist's throat at the truth of it. "They're not a bad influence, they never were, you just don't want me to have anyone who isn't you. I was getting too into the resistance. Too into something that wasn't you. You, you, you!"

A mask had fallen away from the antagonist's face. They'd always been attentive, but the betrayal had stripped the lies of normality away. There was only obsession left in their eyes. Raw and burning. A supernova of love, taking out everything in its path.

The protagonist swallowed and faltered. For the first time, fear crept past the fury, cold and slithering.

"And now," the antagonist closed the gap between them, "I'm all you have." They captured the protagonist's face in their hands, anticipating the protagonist's attempt to lunge in one devastating move. They leaned down, looming, to press a claiming kiss to the protagonist's mouth. "I win."

It was like being winded. Like being stabbed. Like being run through entirely. The protagonist made a soft, pained sound.

The antagonist smiled, thumb caressing their cheek. "Love hurts."

"I don't love you. I will never love you after what you did."

"You will."

"If you truly loved me, you wouldn't do this. If you truly loved me-"

"-I said you can't be angry," the antagonist said, after a beat, "but honestly I don't really mind. It just felt like something I should say." Their whole posture relaxed, alarmingly away from whatever front of concern and regret they had been putting up. "Your anger is mine too. So is your hate. So is everything you are. It's interesting seeing this side of you."

The protagonist stared up at them.

"That is true love," the antagonist said. "I love everything about you. I will take it all for my own. To have, to hold and cherish, until death do us part."

"You're crazy," the protagonist whispered.

"Crazy in love."

The antagonist leaned down and kissed them again soundly.

They really wished they'd been handed over with their friends.

#hero x villain #antagonist x protagonist #writing #toxic relationships #story #ficlet #antagonist #protagonist #villainous characters #villain #obsessive love

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 10)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies

WORD COUNT: 982 words

series masterlist

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”

“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”

“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”

“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

“There is only one way to make a child.”

Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”

“You asked for my hand.”

“Her Grace offered me your hand.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.

“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”

“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.

“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”

“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.

“At least he won’t be alone.”

You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

“Enter.”

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.

“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.

“No.”

“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”

“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”

Gods he really is decent.

“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.

“Old Valyria.”

“You would die.”

“I would.”

“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”

He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”

“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”

“Hmm… almost any it seems.”

Comment to be added to taglist

#lord husband #cregan stark fic #cregan fic #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark #hotd

[nishik1]

bittersweet \\ Nishimura Riki

synopsis: being in a relationship with Nishimura Riki was never easy, but you still made it work.

pairing: idol niki x non idol fem!reader

genre: light angst to fluff

warnings: reader is a bit mean, slight arguing, cursing,?

a/n: a short fic to make up for the lack of updates in “you jealous, nishimura” 😭 this kinda sucks so please don’t be disappointed

wc: roughly 1.4k (NOT PROOF READ)

you awoke to the sounds of knocking on your bedroom window. what the hell..? furrowing your brows as you make your way over to the window. lazily you throw open the curtains and your eyes widen for a second as you process who is waiting outside of your window.

“Riki..? what are you doing here?” you said in disbelief as you stare at the boy who stands beneath your bedroom window with his hands on his knees, hunched over as he tries to catch his breath.

“please just— let me in first—” he says breathlessly. you stare at him for a second before letting out a sigh. hesitantly, you open your window further and lean out just enough for him to grab onto your arms and pull himself up. his eyes light up when you reach to him, he immediately grabs onto your arms and comes tumbling into your room.

theres a moment of silence as you watch him sit on the floor of your bedroom, still trying to catch his breath.

“so… are you gonna tell me why you’re here or are you just gonna sit there?” you cross your arms over your chest, slight annoyance present im your tone. Riki feels his heart clench at your tone, you only ever talked to him like that when you’re angry with him.

“I came to explain myself” you let out a bitter chuckle as you narrow your eyes at him.

for context, you and Riki had a date today. In fact it was supposed to be your first date in a while since Riki’s been quite busy being an idol and all. you both had decided to go to this new restaurant which opened recently, your date was scheduled for 7:30. you had arrived on time but Riki? Riki never came at all. you had messaged him multiple times only to get no reply, hence why you were mad at him. you waited for 2 hours straight and he never showed and now he’s here in your bedroom?

“seriously, Riki? that’s all you came here to do?” he frowns at this, he could tell in your eyes that you’re annoyed and angry with him. I mean who wouldn’t be? he showed up in the middle of the night unannounced.

“I know I should’ve told you—“

“you should have just told me the moment you found out you were going to be busy!” your voice cracked slightly as you inhaled sharply before continuing

“Riki you and I barely get to spend any time together anymore and the one day we actually had plans to see each other, you flaked on me!” you said feeling more hurt than angry, the two barely got to see each other with how busy he was but today he was supposed to be free.

“I know and I’m sorry… I never wanted to flake on you but we had to do some filming today and—“

“Riki I don’t want to hear it, It’s been like this for months. we never get to see each other anymore and whenever we think we might have time you always get busy with something!”

“I know that and I’m sorry for that too but I can’t help it if my schedule changes. I’m an idol, Y/N. It’s my job and sometimes this is what idols have to do. I know I don’t have as much free time as I used to but I have to do these things, they’re important to my career!”

“what about me? am I not important?” both of your eyes widen at this and you saw hurt flash through his eyes. you didn’t mean to say it, you didn’t want to say it, it just slipped out.

“I never said that.” he grits his teeth in annoyance. though he was annoyed he was also hurt. he was hurt that you thought you didn’t matter to him, of course you matter to him, you’re his girlfriend!

“no but you implied it. Riki you never make time for me anymore!” you run your fingers through your hair, feeling frustrated with everything going on.

“god why are you like this? my whole life can’t revolve around you, this is my job Y/N!” he raises his voice slightly. you inhale sharply and you pull your gaze off of him and to the wall behind him.

“I never said it had to revolve around me. all I’m asking for is for you to just make an effort to see me.” you lower your head as you feel your tears betray you and begin well up in your eyes.

please not now. you can’t cry. not now. you think to yourself, digging your nails into your palm.

you had been feeling like this for so long, feeling as if you didn’t matter to him. at the beginning of your relationship, everything was good. you were both happy and saw each other almost everyday. well that was until the group Riki was in began to grow more and more popular. the dates which you used to have daily started to happen less and less. it went from daily, to every other day, to weekly and eventually to none at all.

it started to feel as if you were no longer relevant in his life, like you no longer mattered to him. you were angry and his words only fueled your anger more. you’ve been bottling up these feelings, trying to ignore and hide them as best as you can but its starting to become too much to bare.

“you think I don’t try? I’ve—“ thats it. this was your breaking point. his harsh words finally pushed you to your limit.

“well it doesn’t seem like you fucking try! Riki I can’t take it anymore, can’t you see how draining this is for me?” one by one hot tears began to trickle down your cheeks as you finally let out the feelings you had been keeping in for so long. his eyes immediately soften as all the anger he had towards you dissolved into guilt.

“oh Y/N… I’m so sorry.” he cups your face with his hand, gently wiping your tears as you lean into his touch. how long has he been hurting you for? how long have you felt like this? how can he make it up to you? would you even forgive him? a million questions raced through Riki’s mind as he pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin atop your head as a few tears escaped his eyes.

“I’m sorry too… its just— i miss seeing you in person. i miss your hugs, I just miss you... i’m tired of seeing you through a screen.” his heart clenches at your words as you mumble into his chest, your breathing uneven from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to make more time for you i swear. my schedules just been so packed lately, i was supposed to be free today but they needed us to—“

“its okay, you don’t have to explain— just… just stay with me.” you bury your face in his chest, hugging him as if this was the last time you’d ever be able to. your tears betrayed you as they began to drip onto his shirt.

he badly wanted to tell explain what happened and why he was unable to attend your date today but he knew that all you needed right now, was for him to stay. to stay and make up for all of the lost time you two could’ve had together, to stay and comfort you the way he should’ve before and most of all, to stay and show you that he loves you.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.” you felt your heart sting at his words, but not in a bad way. in more of a “i love you so much but i’m still mad at you” way.

you shut your eyes tightly trying to prevent any more tears from falling. you’re not even fully sure if your tears are happy or sad ones perhaps both?

“I love you..” your voice is quiet but still loud enough to hear as you raise your head from his chest. teary eyes locking with his, Riki’s gaze softens at you as he brings his hand to your cheek caressing it gently.

“I love you too”

its the moments like these which remind you of why you fell in love with Nishimura Riki. with Riki, disagreements dissolve into peaceful silence and all you can feel is the comfort of resting in his embrace, where worries melt away and all that is left is love. it’s moments like these which make you fall in love with him all over again.

you think you’ll forever adore the moments like these, even if they’re bittersweet.

taglist: @rksbae @lizzyyaaaaaa @berry-and-kkami @chaewon-slays @solstramaii @infi0 @beomgyusonlywife @misoxhappy @ramenoil

#nishik1 #niki enha #riki enhypen #enhypen riki #enha niki #niki enhypen #niki fluff #enhypen nishimura riki #niki angst #kpop angst #niki x reader #ni ki x reader #ni ki enhypen #angst to comfort #enhypen angst #nishimura riki angst #riki nishimura x reader #nishimura riki #riki nishimura #niki nishimura #nishimura niki #ni ki angst #ni ki #enhypen #enhypen x reader #riki x reader #enha x reader #enha riki #enha x y/n #enha angst

[writingoddess1125]

I am obsessed with how you write for one piece characters (especially angst-fluff XD) I was wondering if I could request a Sanji x male!reader where they both barely got together yet sanji still fawns over nami and robin which causes reader to start feeling insecure, then later in private reader asks sanji if he’d love him more if he was a girl instead. Angst to fluff/comfort pls:))

Btw idk if you have any rules so sorry if this goes against them! Feel free to ignore/delete this!<3

Please and thank you :)

So love this idea! I'm splitting it into two however! So don't worry this will have a happy ending I promise!

Curiosity pt. 1

Sadness

Sanji x MaleReader

Support me on Ko-Fi! Enjoy!!

P.s the sanji quote I used was actually in the Japanese sub so don't @ me

You sat there as silent as stone eating your meal as the chaos and laughter of the ship sounded around you. Nami angrily yelling, Zoro drinking, Luffy yelling for more food while eating, Usopp spinning another story and your boyfriend fawning over Nami's tits openly- In most cases you would have been embarrassed but at this point... the disappointment was expected.

You'd only been together for a few months, starting out as flirting with each other- Him approaching you since he had felt conflicted in his attractions and you guided him through the maze of identity and attractions. Finding him in your arms and in your heart-

Sanji later admitting you were the first guy he has ever liked and the first person he dated. You thought it was sweet- a romance unfolding that you two would one day tell the world... but that didn't seem like the case anymore.

"Nami~ Can I see your panties! Wait let me get a camera!" Sanji laughed loidly as you could see the love in his eyes as Nami looked red in the face and angry.

"You're vile" Zoro hissed at the laughing Sanji, his nose bleeding as Nami gave him another hard punch to his head knocking him to the floor.

Zoro had been getting more aggressive against Sanji- mainly due to the fact he find his acts disrespectful towards you.

Lowering your gaze at this you took another sip of the mixed rum drink your boyfriend had served. However the sweet cocktail tasting bitter on your tongue now- not bothering to announce you were dismissing yourself from the joyous dinner.

Zoro gave you a sympathetic nod, watching you silently stand as you gave him a tight lipped small smile in return and left.

Stepping out you take a heavy sigh- Trying to keep the tears from falling and Biting your lip to swallow the pain once more.

That ache in your heart had faded letting a numbness settle instead. Taking a seat on the main deck you stare up at the sky, watching the stars above you as the fading sounds of laughter echoed behind you.

Sitting out looking over the open ocean you thought- Thinking about the pain and embarrassment that Sanji had brought you. He had been the one to approach you, asking you out on a night like this. Thinking of how he held you close and whispered that you were his one and only. Yet you felt like those moments were now just empty words- Maybe they had always been that way even after such a short amount of time....

"(Y/N)! What are you doing out here?" You heard a all too familiar voice call out, seeing a cherry checked Sanji smile brightly at you. His smile did freeze slightly at seeing the rather stoic look on your faze, his brow raising.

"Is something wrong?" He questioned, stepping closer in worry.

"No" You say calmly, looking back out on the water. Knowing you would kill the mood of you brought up how you felt- however it seemed you couldn't have your way... He sat next to you nudging his shoulder against yours.

"Come on- I know my boyfriend well enough to see you're sad" He said sincerely. You didn't meet his gaze however, sighing in defeat instead.

"Would you have preferred it if I was a girl?"

Sanji's eyes widened at this, confusion and shock going over his features.

"What kind of question is that?- Of course I"

"You still fawn over Nami and the others.. stare at their chest and droll over their figure.." You say softly, touching the thin fabric that covered your lack of breast.

The blondes face falling as he realized what he had been doing to you-

"(Y/N) dont be ma-" He started but cut him off again.

"I'm not mad at you... I'm not going to scream at you or yell if that's what you're expecting.. I'm just telling you my reasonings" You explain and you could practically feel the dread rolling off him.

"Reasonings?"

You nod softly at this, not having the heart to elaborate further on that. You see the flash of panic.

"I don't want to ruin the night Sanji so I didn't want to have this conversation now"

"We are having it now- I don't want you to go.. I care for you" You heard the careful side stepping of his words, avoiding love or like with 'care' it made your chest ache all over again.

"Like how you care about my feelings?... It's okay to say you were just.. experimenting-" You say and he grabs your shoulders suddently so you were facing him, a flash of anger in his eyes as he stared at you, the sharp rum from his breath burning your nose.

"You aren't a experiment to me okay? It's not like that? I just- It's hard to explain okay?" He tried to reason as he released your shoulders and reached forward grabbing your hand to try to reassure you. But you pulled away calmly.

"Do you still like Nami?.." You finally ask and watch his face twisted up as he tried to answer.. but couldnt-

You close your eyes, almost greatful he didn't answer. Not knowing if his excuse would hurt you more then his actions, standing up from your seat you smooth out the invisible Imperfections in your trousers.

"It's okay Sanji... I can understand if I was a curiosity for you. Thank you for the meal, I'm going to bed. Goodnight" You say calmly and head below to get some sleep- you still heard the laughter from the kitchens as you faded into the belly of the ship to hopefully hide your tears.

Sanji sat there, dazed over what just happened. Pulling out a cigarette from his pockets however he just silently started at the stick of tobacco, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders as guilt tore through his chest. Closing his eyes tightly like he was force away the shame he felt.

"Shit.."

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #op sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n

[spacebarbarianweird]

When Old Scars Hurt

Synopsis: It's been two years and relationships between Astarion and Tiriel are being rocky.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: fluff, conversation about relationships.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

His back hurts and burns. Astarion is so sure his scars are open, he lets out a muffled cry.

No, it can't be. It's not real.

Scars can't bleed.

But why does it hurt so much?

Astarion sits on the floor and presses his knees against his chest trying to calm himself down. But no mental exercises help him.

The pain is only getting worse.

There is a disgusting autumn outside. The winds howl promising misery and despair and, to the less fortunate, death in the cold winter. It’s dark, but he doesn’t want to go out. 

Astarion needs to feel warm hands on his back.

He gets up and enters the room they’ve rented with Tiriel. She is fast asleep in her bed, face pressed against the pillow. Astarion can see the upper half of her back and he can count all her freckles in the pitch-black room.

His beloved.

His partner.

His love.

His friend.

His Tiriel.

He shouldn't wake her up. Half-elves don't inherit the sleepless nature of their elven ancestors and have to spend a third of their lives in slumber.

So Astarion just sits there listening to her heartbeat and breathing. For two years, it has been his favorite sound. Just a quiet thump-thump-thump which has become the synonym of comfort and safety to him.

She offers him warmth. She offers him blood. She offers him herself.

Astarion shivers.

And he hurts her in return.

A quarrel. Those nasty words Astarion wishes he never said. Pain in Tiriel's eyes as if he had punched her. Silence. She left for the room they'd rented and fell asleep, tired and exhausted. And he stayed outside with his own thoughts and anger.

Idiot, she will abandon you. She will leave you all alone because she has her mortality and you don't.

Some parts of him wanted to apologize, to crawl back, to beg for forgiveness. Old habits refused to die out.

So he didn't. He let her go away to sleep while he stayed with his bitterness. 

What if Tiriel doesn't want him anymore? What if she wakes up, looks straight into his eyes, and says "It's over, I can't keep up with your meltdowns anymore. I don't have your immortality and can't spend my years on you. Goodbye."

He can picture her stern face. The coldness in her eyes. 

Astarion shakes his head. The rational part of him is sure Tiriel won't break up with him over his occasional rudeness. She knows him. She knows that sometimes it's stronger than him.

Suddenly, he realizes she isn't asleep anymore.

Tiriel moves a bit, inviting him to join her. His undead heart would skip a bit if he were alive.

He gets under the blanket and the warmth preserved by the thick layer of fabric makes him feel like a kitten cradled in its mother's arms.

"Tiriel, can I ask you something?" he whispers.

Tiriel sighs.

"Yes, I still love you. No, I don’t want to break up with you. Yes, you made the right choice not to ascend. No, I am not angry with you. It was rude but you weren’t in the mood for touching – I should have realized it."

The grip of darkness lets him go. He is still sorry for yelling at her – she just touched his bite mark at the wrong moment – but the guilt is slowly fading away.

"Thank you."

She smiles and places her hands over his scars and the pain lets his body go.

"Was it a nightmare?" Tiriel asks.

"No... Just a hallucination."

"It's all right, it's in the past." Her fingertips draw invisible pictures on his shoulders.

"Two hundred years," he mutters. "Two fucking hundred years. No one has any idea how long it truly is."

Tiriel doesn't say anything. At first, when they just got together, Asatrion tried to busy himself in these moments, he always tried to talk to make sure the silence didn't deafen him, but the more years passed, the more he learned to enjoy the silence.

Silence isn't dangerous.

Silence isn't scary.

It doesn't automatically bring horrors.

“Tiriel?”

“Hm?”

“You really aren't angry, are you? Tell me the truth.”

Tiriel elbows up a bit and forces him to lie on her right side.

“Astarion. Love. You hurt me. It was a mean to say. I know why you act like that sometimes. That’s all. I didn’t expect you to be that angry when I touched your neck, that’s true.” 

“I am sorry.” 

She caresses his jawline forcing him to close his eyes like a content cat. 

“Do you think you will want to stay with me, Tiriel? Year later, ten years later. Let's be honest, you aren’t immortal like me. What if I am a waste of time?”

“You aren't.”

“You don't know that. Tiriel, I am much older than you and, although my life has been all fear and misery, it doesn't mean I didn't live it. You are thirty-eight. You have a century and a half of life ahead. You were raised by humans, and you think that you have all eternity. You don't.”

Tiriel sits up. “So what? Do you want me to leave you?”

“Tiriel, I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

“And I am! Astarion I was on my own my whole life and no one cared for me! No one loved me! You were the first one! You don't believe in gods and destiny but I do believe we were made for each other. Stop. I am happy with you. And I can tolerate the downsides that come along. 

“I will make you miserable. My hands are cold, I can’t warm you unless I drink a profane amount of blood. I draw your blood, making you weak and dizzy.”

She lies back and tugs him as close as she can, intertwining her body with his. Astarion suddenly realizes that she is almost as strong as him and, should he want to break the embrace, he will have to make an effort.

“What if you want a child? A family? I can’t give you that.”

Tiriel looks up at him. “Honestly, Astarion, you claim to know mortals so well but fail to understand that being pregnant with an unwanted child from an unloved man is the ultimate nightmare for a woman. If I ever want to get pregnant, I want it to be yours.”

Astarion grabs her arms if she is about to disappear. 

“That's it. We aren't going anywhere from each other. I don't want anyone else. You probably don’t either. You are my Astarion. My friend, my heart, and my husband. I don’t need and want anyone else. No matter how warm their hands are.”

Astarion looks into her eyes. She means it, he realizes. She truly, honestly means it. Even now, two years later, when their relationship is rocky.

And she considers him her husband. 

He kisses her forehead. 

“I love you, my wife.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fics #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #spacebarbarian fics #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #astarion smut #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion my beloved #astarion imagine #astarion x oc #tav x astarion #astarion fluff

[lifeiskentastic]

Ken is jealous of gn!Reader (but for absolutely no reason)

Gif by @chriswevans

A/N: Dear anons, I am ofc a lazy asshole, but sooner or later I will answer every request, I promise (if I don't, you can burn me in hell);

Summary: gn!Reader interacts with the Other Ken, unaware of the destructive effect it has on Ken. So destructive that he even tore his bandana (but almost immediately sewed it back on)!

Word count: 711 words;

Enjoy!

Ken was very angry. Ken was very, very angry, irritated, furious and hurt. The whole world had suddenly become one big pile of injustice, betrayal and dishonour. Except for the horses, of course.

Every few minutes he sighed sorrowfully, and every few seconds he remembered you and held back angry tears. How could you talk to Another Ken when you already had one? Ken irratable kicked the sand with his foot, but missed and nearly fell backwards. This made him even angrier.

Ken fell rather than sit down on the sun-warmed sand, his head down on his folded arms in despair. It was too heavy because of... Well, because of the heavy thoughts. Ken couldn't stop replaying in his head that unbearably awful moment when he caught you talking to Another Ken.

His heart, soul, and the bandana he was clutching in his hands with all his fury were bursting at the seams (especially the bandana) as he remembered your laughter. No, your laughter itself was just a wonderful, sonorous sound, the best sound for Ken's ears! The problem was that this charming giggle was caused by a Ken. The Other Ken.

"Hello!”

 “Ha-ha... Oh, Ken, hi!"

And then the Other Ken dared to speak to you again, without giving poor Ken a chance to get a word in. So he ran away leave with his head held high, went to the beach, sat down on the shore and began to sob with bitter nostalgia, remembering the pleasure of his time with you.

Ken would have sulked until dawn if you hadn't come to his hunched figure.

“Ken?”

He didn't answer. In fact, he showed no signs of life at all. Except for resentment, of course.

You sat down next to him, trying to look into his eyes. But Ken's head was turned a perfect 180 degrees away from you.

“If this is about Ken, there's something you need to know.”

Ken's heart dropped to his heels when he heard what he clearly least wanted to hear.

“Actually, he and I have been discussing...”

Ken squeezed his eyes shut as if he was about to be hit. The most insane versions of your words were swarming through his head, but none of them came close to reality. To the raw, harsh reality...

“We were talking about a film night for you.”

“What?”

Ken's eyelids fluttered shut, and he didn't even notice how he jerked his head in your direction. And when he did... Well, judging by his wry grimace as he looked at your adored treacherous face with pain, his resentment was quite deep. However, after the words "movie night", another terrible monster awoke inside Ken: curiosity.

"Yes, silly, me and the other Kens were planning to have a film party dedicated to horses. In your honour. And it was supposed to be a surprise!”

Try as he might, Ken was too happy to hide his big smile. A film? In his honour? Horses?!

Ken stared at you with the most devoted look possible as his smile grew bigger and bigger. In his pleasantly surprised eyes, you could clearly read "I'm sorry I thought bad things about you (but it was your fault too)".  And perhaps somewhere in the secret corners of Ken's unexplored soul, the thought crept in that the Other Ken might not be such a scoundrel after all. But, of course, those were just the secret corners of his unexplored soul and nothing more.

However, even after bringing Ken back to a more positive mental state, you still needed to hear something very important from him:

“Ken, do you... Do you forgive me? I should have told you about my intentions earlier...”

Ken was looking at you with a bit of disbelief, although you could tell from his convulsively trembling lips that he was using all the possible and impossible powers of his plastic facial expressions to keep from smiling.

“Well, if you tell me when the party is, I might forgive you.”

Ken was far from an actor, and you could tell by the way he pouted when he barely found the control not to turn his head towards you again.

“Of course! Tonight.”

In the end, Ken not only forgave you, but also hugged you uncontrollably.

#ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfiction #ryan gosling x reader #ken fic #ken #ken x gn reader #ken x reader #jealous ken #ken barbie #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling fanfic #ryan gosling ken x reader #barbie fanfic #barbie 2023 fanfiction #barbie 2023 #barbie movie #barbie ken #gn reader #fluff fic #fanfiction #ken fluff

[blissfulip]

—Legion

On AO3

Priest!Viktor x F!demon!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Priest Kink, Blasphemy, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Flagellation, Demon Sex, Demon Summoning, Demon/Human Relationships, demon reader, AU - Canon Divergence, Post medieval era, Dubious Science, Church Sex, Roman Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Shameless Smut, Masturbation, No use of Y/N, third person.

Cw: mentions of Child SA, allusions to the witch trials

Words: 3.1k

[A/N: Sorry for making the bishop so annoying I made myself angry proof-reading this lmao (let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby @zaunitearchives

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II.

Noon had started to crack, and Viktor sat still at the edge of his bed, his left leg throbbing with a persistent ache and guilt consuming him as he grappled with the weight of his recent actions. His mind swirled in a tumult of self-condemnation and regret as the looming certainty of facing Father Isidore when he would eventually be called up to the kitchen for lunch weighed over him.

How could he, entrusted with the guidance of others, find himself so lost in the labyrinth of his own sin? It was so easy, too, to feel like the absolutions he offered were hollow, his own inability to forgive himself casting a shadow over the sanctity of his role. And amidst this turmoil, the relentless ache in his left leg—probably due to kneeling for a prolonged stretch of time, but that in the wake of what he had just done felt more akin to divine punishment—served as a reminder of his frailty, both physical and spiritual. 

But pain is purification, suffering gives way to redemption, and penitence is salvation, so isn’t pleasure the correct response after all? If martyrdom is the ultimate act of love, then why shouldn’t agony be met with enjoyment? That was the lie Viktor soothed himself with before deciding to be a step ahead of the altar boys and make his way to the kitchen. 

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

His leg protested with each step, but it seemed insignificant compared to the stinging feeling on his back now that he had the rough fabric rubbing against it. What lingered wasn’t nearly as pleasant as before; however, he felt undeserving of making a fuss about it, it being a punishment—ironically—for a self-inflicted punishment that he shouldn’t have delighted in. 

As he entered, the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted him, mingling with the faint aroma of incense that clung to his robes and clashing with the uninviting presence of Father Isidore, who sat at the table, steaming cup in hand. 

“Viktor, my son,” he exclaimed in a voice that sounded sweet and as sticky and treacherous as molasses, “I trust you have...repented.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, a wave of trepidation washing over him as he felt his judgmental gaze on him. Viktor severely disliked the special way Father Isidore enunciated; emphasis on certain words never seemed like enough for him; he always made it a point to hiss and spit; his lips thinned out and tense like he was holding in a growl. It didn’t match his childlike guise, and this made Viktor weary of him ever since he was a kid. 

“I have,” he replied tersely, taking a seat opposite his superior’s robust presence. 

"It seems, however, that some of us struggle more than others with the concept of self-control," he remarked, his words dripping with a subtle veil of aggression.

Viktor's stomach churned with resentment. "I am aware of my shortcomings, Father," he retorted, his voice tinged with bitterness. 

“Don’t misunderstand me, son. It is never my intention to prohibit your studies or peg your enthusiasm for learning; you know our monastery has always valued knowledge of the great arts.”

“Until it challenges one of your universal truths, that is.”

“Precisely, are you trying to imply we should challenge the dogma?” 

Viktor stayed silent. 

“Tell me, do you think you are above us all?” 

“Of course I don’t, father.” but he did, and this whole lecture was starting to get old. 

“Then you must clearly think you are above sin. So holy and pure that you are able to read such heretic words and not be tempted by them?” He said this as he got closer to Viktor, his face slowly turning beet red: “unde et corda filiorum hominum implentur malitia et contemptu in vita sua et post haec ad inferos deducentur.”

And then he did the same eyebrow raise he used to do when Viktor was a child, and he was testing his knowledge of the scripture. Viktor sighed, partly in defeat but mostly in annoyance. 

“‘Hence the hearts of the sons of men are filled with malice and contempt in their lives, and after this they are brought down to hell’,” he answered as he instinctively leaned back on the chair, the scorching sensation reminding him why it was a terrible idea. 

“I can tell you are in pain; why must you still be so stubborn, even when you are enduring your penitence on the flesh?” 

“I see no malice in curiosity.”

“Even when you intentionally seek the words of miscreants, knowing full well the danger it presents?”

“I don’t seek dangerous ideals; the universe is, and I simply try to understand it.”

“You are lost, Viktor.” Father Isidore’s lips curled up into a grin of contempt, a show of mockery that made it clear his concern for Viktor’s soul came from a place of scorn. 

“Temptatio vos non adprehendat nisi humana, something something, and God will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear and, eh, I forgot what comes after,” Viktor recited, quiet but defiant. 

“To me, you are nothing but a test of resilience, Viktor. If I have to tear you down myself to build you back up as a God-honoring servant, I will.” He said this as he visibly struggled to disguise his frustration. “Come, I would like you to meet someone.”

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

As they made their way through the narrow streets of the small town, the bustling activity of the market greeted them. Vibrant stalls lined the cobblestone paths, their displays of fresh produce and handmade goods drawing Viktor’s attention. All the while, he wondered who this mysterious person and possible weapon of torture would be. 

Father Isidore walked with an air of authority, his presence commanding respect as he exchanged warm greetings with anyone who crossed their path. Soon they came upon an elderly woman sitting by a small table, adorned with a meager assortment of goods. Her weathered face bore the deep lines of a life well-lived, yet her eyes sparkled with a warmth that belied her frailty. She smiled weakly as they approached, her gnarled hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Good morning, Father!" called out an elderly woman, her face lighting up with a smile as she approached. "Blessings be upon you." 

He gave back a smile that could've fooled anyone, but Viktor couldn't shake the feeling that there was something calculated in his demeanor. "And to you as well, my dear," Father Isidore replied, his tone tinged with a hint of forced sincerity. "How are you faring today?"

"Oh, just getting by as best I can, Father," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Times have been hard, but the Lord provides."

"Indeed, He does, and speaking of such, have you been able to fulfill your tithe to the church this month?”

The elderly woman's smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with the worn fabric of her apron. "I... I'm afraid not, Father," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "Things have been tight lately, with the harvest being poor and all."

His expression hardened imperceptibly, though his tone remained gentle as he pressed the issue. "I understand, my dear," he continued. "But you must remember the importance of supporting the church, especially in these trying times. Perhaps there is something else you could sacrifice to ensure your tithe is met."

Viktor watched in silent anger as the elderly woman's shoulders slumped in resignation, her eyes downcast as she nodded in reluctant agreement. Despite his own discomfort, he couldn't help but feel a surge of rage at the ease with which Father Isidore exploited the vulnerability of this woman for the sake of the church's coffers.

“If I may, Lucida,” Viktor interjected. Different from his superior, he knew the members of their community; he had taken time to know them and had offered his friendship along with his guidance. “You must be forgetting; your daughter has already come to offer lithe on behalf of your family.”

This was a lie, but be it because Lucida’s age was betraying her memory or because she had taken the hint of what Viktor was doing, it didn’t matter. Her mouth shaped into a round O as she nodded at both of them. Father Isidor looked at Viktor with suspicion but did not press the issue any further either, simply dragging Viktor by his free arm to continue on their way. 

A modest house was nestled along the path. Father Isidore announced himself with a drawn-out knock on the solid wood of the door, and the figure of a weary woman appeared as the door peered open. When she saw the men, her feeble demeanor swiftly morphed into visible uneasiness. 

Viktor knew her; she had been at the cathedral at least once, and multiple times she had made herself present at Viktor’s masses in the small town parish. She had never reacted this way to him before, so Viktor knew it was the man beside him who was causing this woman concern. 

“Father Isidore, I’m sorry; I did not expect to see you here,” she cried out, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. 

“Fret not, dear; I haven’t come to collect her yet; I simply wanted Viktor to meet her.” He scrutinized the inside of the house from where he stood before gently pushing the woman aside to enter the house, uninvited. Viktor gave her quiet apologies and small awkward smiles, following close behind him when she gave him a sign to invite him in. 

The woman took them to the other side of the small house; there, the threshold of what seemed to have been a door in the past separated this expanse from the rest of the house. In the dimly lit chamber, a young teenage girl sat on the edge of her bed, her long black twin braids cascading down her shoulders like a dark veil, so dark that if you looked at it under the right light, it might even look blue.

Her posture was slumped, and her slender frame seemed to wilt under an invisible weight. The room around her felt heavy with silence, broken only by the faint sound of her shallow breaths. She looked up to look at them as the three entered, but her once vibrant eyes, now dulled and distant, gazed blankly ahead, unfocused and unseeing. 

“Darling, Father Isidore has come to see you; will you say hi to him and his friend?” Her mother asked delicately as she sat down on the bed next to her. Viktor was stumped; he didn’t remember seeing this girl at any of the functions before or around the town as he ran errands. The girl’s hands lay limply in her lap, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the faded bedspread as she looked at Father Isidore. 

And very subtly, her once empty gaze welled up with noticeable rage. 

“What do you want, sheep?” Her voice sounded so sweet, yet her words were so filled with venom.

“Careful now; I’m not here to take you yet, but I might change my mind if you decide to get nervy with me.” 

She squinted slightly before giving Father Isidore an empty smirk and snapping her head quickly to look directly at Viktor. “Are you in trouble too? I’m only ever used as an example.” 

“I-eh, I’m not sure.” Viktor pondered her words for a short second: “An example?”

“For what not to do.” She scoffed; she now seemed unaffected by their presence, giggling at Viktor’s confused expression, like he had told her a joke. “What did you do? Illegal medicine?” she asked, and she continued when she received no response. “You’re a priest; did you lay with a woman? Oh, oh, oh, a man, perhaps?”

The amusement in her tone was not enough to cut the tension in the air. Viktor wondered why no one seemed to care about what she was saying, but he figured Father Isidore was attempting to make a point out of this, and her mother was too afraid to do anything that might upset the bishop. 

“I would ask you if you touched a child, but they care considerably less about that than they do about banned...That’s it, isn’t it? You—” She said, now wiggling her feet like she had reverted to an earlier stage of her life. “—are a man of science; I can see in your eyes that you know what heliocentrism is.” She giggled her way through those words and looked at Viktor with wide eyes, awaiting a response. 

A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft shuffle of feet on the worn floorboards as the mother stood by the door, her expression wrought with fear, while Father Isidore's features were etched with thinly veiled frustration.

Suddenly, the girl spoke, her voice soft but tinged with defiance. "You can't stop me, fawner," she said, her words cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. "I won't let you."

Father Isidore's eyes narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, as he shot the girl a warning glare. "Enough," he admonished. "You know the consequences of disobedience, and you know what awaits you; don’t make an effort to rush your departure."

With a sense of urgency, the mother hurriedly ushered them toward the door, pleading and apologizing on her daughter’s behalf, and in the onslaught of their departure, Viktor felt a small object slip into his hand. Startled, he glanced down only to see the girl’s swift fingers pressing something into his palm and a pair of brazen eyes that quickly snuck back onto the bed, unnoticed. 

He didn’t dare to look, not as long as he had eyes on him, so he clenched his fist around it, as if something told him he ought not to lose it. Viktor's mind raced with questions, his confusion mounting with each hurried step as they silently walked the path back to the parish. As they climbed the small steps to go inside the building, the bishop spoke. 

“She is being taken to undergo a trial for witchcraft, but I’m sure what you saw made that evident.”

“She doesn’t look like a witch.”

“What do witches look like, son?”

“Wretched, evil, hateful...”

“And is it not evil to go against the dogma of our faith? Is it not wretched to seek deranged ideals like ‘heliocentrism’ and ‘geokinesis’, mad, truly mad things for someone who is fearful of God to believe, and especially wicked for a woman to believe?”

Viktor did not answer. 

“God has great plans for you, Viktor. Do not stray from your path, and you’ll be able to avoid an end like hers” He said, punctuating the last word with a hefty—and ignobly intentional—pat on his back. 

The wounds, still fresh and tender, protested vehemently against the sudden contact, each movement a reminder of the agony that plagued him. He visibly winced and took a sharp breath through gritted teeth, doing his best to suppress the urge to cry out in pain. But it wasn't just the physical discomfort that gnawed at him. Beneath the surface, a simmering anger had been bubbling. 

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

Alone again in the confines of his quarters, Viktor sank to his knees in front of the small wooden crucifix that adorned the wall. His hands trembled as he clasped them together in prayer, his lips moving silently in fervent entreaty. 

“Pater Noster qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum…” He began automatically, but he didn’t know what he had prayed for. 

When the prayer ended, there was silence.

“Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus…” He started once again, perhaps a mother would pity him.

Silence. 

Anger burned within him like a smoldering ember. The rotund face of Father Isidore plagued his inner thoughts. How could a man of God, a shepherd of the faithful, wield his power with such callous disregard?

But beneath the anger lay a deeper, more insidious emotion: guilt. Guilt for his own weakness, for his depravity, for his inability to rise above the turmoil and find solace in his faith. With a frustrated sigh, Viktor bowed his head lower, his hands clenching into fists as he fought to contain the tempest raging within him. 

"Why?" he whispered, his voice barely audible in the silence of the room. "Why do I pray, day after day, only to be met with silence? Have I been forsaken, abandoned by the very God I serve?"

But as the echoes of his words faded into the darkness, there came no answer, and in that moment of profound solitude, Viktor felt more alone than ever before, until he remembered the small object he had managed to slip into his robes. 

A brass coin, small and thin enough that he could break it with his bare hands if he was not careful. It appeared to have worn off with time, the original color having faded into a dark green, corroded shade. As he held it up to the dim candlelight, the symbol etched into its surface seemed to shimmer—a circle with small letters around its circumference that he couldn’t read. In it there was a smaller circle, and inside of it, even smaller, a strange swirly shape with five triangles on its flat top and a cross in the very center. 

He knew, deep inside, that he recognized what he knew to be the symbol of a creature of darkness and forbidden knowledge. His instincts screamed at him to cast it aside, to rid himself of its tainted influence, but a curious fascination held him captive. In a surge of frustration and desperation, Viktor closed his eyes and clasped the coin tightly in his hands, his lips moving in silent prayer.

“God has failed me; let this be the time I am acknowledged.” For a long moment, nothing happened. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft whisper of his own breath. But then, just as Viktor's hope began to wane, he felt a strange warmth emanating from the coin, spreading through his fingertips. 

Like a heavy shroud enveloping the room, suffusing the air with palpable tension, the atmosphere shifted, thickening with an otherworldly energy that seemed to hum with ancient power. A chill ran down Viktor's spine when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. As he summoned the courage to gaze upon the figure behind him, he found himself confronted by a sight that defied all comprehension.

The figure of a woman, alluring and terrible but terrifyingly familiar, stood before him. A surge of primal terror mixed with a morbid fascination compelled him to stand his ground, and then he heard her voice. 

“Curious, very curious.” She whispered. 

#viktor #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane #arcane au #legion

[immortalmsmoon]

Hello 👋🏽 Nice blog you got here!

May I please request headcanons for Joker, Akechi, and Ann reacting to their female S/O asking them to change her aunt’s heart after she shows anger and bitterness towards the family, snapping during a party which terrifies the S/O?

Phantom Thieving

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! i am so sorry this took so long, i've had a lot of school work to do and i have been INSANLY busy. i'll try to get these next requests out as fast as i can.

Warnings: mentions of Killing In akechi's (very brief), talk of an Aunt that yells at Y/n

Word Count: 679

Akira Kurusu~

Angry to say the least

not the type to verbally or physically show that anger in anyway though, you you probably won't figure out he's angry at your Aunt

VERY eager to change the heart of your aunt.

you mean the world to him, so the fact that someone treated you with such disrespect has him seething.

when he's not Phantom Thieving, he's making sure to give you attention and affection, and is always pretty carful not to yell around you regardless of what the situation might be

sometimes even goes as far as to make sure his friends don't yell around you

Akira did not have a short temper, and it took a lot to truly make him angry.

Somehow your aunt had turned the usually cool headed teenager into one filled with one filled with anger to say the least.

He had been hesitant at first. Changing a person's heart was a permanent thing, and he didn't want you to make the decision just because you were angry. But as soon as you told him the story as to why you felt your dear Aunts heart should be changed, he was eager and ready to do it.

he put it at the top of his priority list. he ignored most of his other memento requests, instead deciding that the specific request you had given him was the most important thing in the world.

He made sure check up on you as the change of heart was in progress, taking you out around town, and making you coffee so you could have a break from your family. he new the best thing for you would be to take your mind off the situation until it was resolved.

Goro Akechi~

Not typically one to change hearts, but he's willing to do it for you

his anger is a lot more visible, especially when he sees how much it scared you

as soon as you tell him the story, he is making comments.

"How could your Aunt do that to you?" "Your aunt is obviously the problem here." "She sounds like a real pain"

it takes a lot to hold back when confronting your aunt, especially because killing people is basically muscle memory for him, but thinking of you keeps him in line

It wasn't often you came to Goro in tears. And every time you did he dreaded it.

In his eyes you were so perfect. the Personification of joy and happiness and love, and it made no sense to him that anyone could ever yell at you.

when he found out what your Aunt had done he could feel anger coursing through him like blood.

He was delicate with you as he held you, making sure not to scare you anymore than you already were.

Of course he wanted to help you. but helping others wasn't something he was particularly good at. He would try his hardest anyway, if it meant he could hear you laugh, see you smile.

He would do anything to make you happy.

Ann Takamaki~

She understands exactly how your feeling.

she had been yelled at the same way as you, and it made her angry that someone as kind and loving as you had to experience that.

quick to tell Akira of your situation, and really presses on the Phantom Thieves about fulfilling your request.

She takes you out on crepe dates and invites you to come to her modelling sessions so you can take your mind off of the situation until its fixed.

As soon as Ann heard your story, her once present smile faded.

First Shiho, and now you? it broke her heart.

She held you close for a second, her eyes welling up. She quickly wiped them away, before letting you go. this time she would be strong enough to protect you. and that was a promise.

it seemed like all the people around her lately were sad. she new she needed to fix the situation. She sent Akira a quick text, explaining your situation, before asking to take you out for crepes.

#Ann #ann takamaki #ann takamaki x reader #akechi #goro akechi #Goro akechi x reader #Akira #Akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #ren #ren amamiya #ren amamiya x reader #persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #p5

[icebear4president]

Short angst fic I wrote in an hour!

Characters: Canada and America

Word count: 903

"He never loved me."

Matthew eyed the empty bottles thrown haphazardly across the room, and back again to his brother slumped against the wall. It was an unusual sight to say the least. Alfred didn't get drunk. Or least to the point where he was barely functioning. He had always been the more paranoid of the two, the one who talked about the dangers of letting his guard down.

It was sad in a way, really.

“He likes me, sure," Alfred continued, talking more to himself than anyone else. Matthew wasn't even sure he knew he was there. "Likes who I am, likes the man I turned out to be. Likes the idea of me as a son."

Matthew's eyebrows shot up in surprise at that. He thought his brother was talking about a friend, a lover maybe. Not...this.

"I think he liked raising me. I think he liked-" Alfred sighed, banging his head against the wall. "Liked the earlier days, being my big brother, liked how it felt not having to be alone anymore. Having someone to take care of, you know? I think he liked the thought of saving me from the same loneliness he felt or some other bullshit excuse like that."

Alfred nudged a piece of glass on the floor, idly swishing the liquid in his bottle back and forth. "I think he needs me, but I don't think he loves me."

What was the right response to that? 'Sorry you feel like that' or 'Grow up and stop whining about the past'? Both sounded right and horribly wrong at the same time. This was something deeper, deeper than Matthew could possibly understand He wasn't really sure how he felt about that.

Another thing Alfred and Arthur shared that he would never get to be a part of.

As for now, the only thing Matthew could really think was 'holy shit'. He'd always known Arthur hadn't really cared about him, or at least loved him deep enough, in a way that never had to have excuses for it to be known. But he'd thought...he'd thought if Arthur could find it in his heart to ever love anyone, that, well, it would be Alfred.

"But I can't hate him," Alfred said. "I mean, I love him. He's my dad. But he doesn't, doesn't, love me back."

Alfred finally looked up at Matthew, eyes glazed over, but still analyzing Matthew in a way that made him squirm. "Don't think he ever loved me back, but you. I think he loved you at some point. Maybe still does. You're Matthew after all. Sweet, wonderful, perfect Matthew, the golden child," Alfred spat. "Everyone loves you, and they hate me."

And suddenly Matthew's throat was so painfully constricted, he briefly wondered if he swallowed glass. It was unsettling seeing his brother look at him with so much anger, borderline hate. Except that wasn't right, it was Matthew who should be angry, not the other way around. Alfred didn't have that right. Alfred who had everything.

Right?

Ignoring his brother's internal turmoil, Alfred continued his rant no longer paying attention to him. "He loved that damned pedal stool, the one he put me on, show me off to the world as his best creation." Bitter smile hard with empty amusement, he raised a half-empty bottle. "Alfred Kirkland, best damn soldier there ever was."

Matthew wanted to sock him in the jaw, or flat out run away. He did neither.

Alfred tried to take another swig, but his hands didn't seem to want to cooperate with each other, and he fumbled with both hands until he dropped the bottle altogether. It was sad, really, to see him reduced to this.

And Matthew watched, helplessly, as his little brother started to cry.

"I just don't get it, Mattie." Alfred rubbed a hand against his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. “Why doesn't he love me? What did I do wrong?"

Alfred was much, much too out of it to care about platitudes, which was a small mercy since Matthew had none to give. So instead, he sat on the floor besides his brother. And before he could even attempt the hesitantly reach out with an awkward one-armed hug, Alfred tipped over and slumped against him, clumsily grabbing at his jacket.

"I love you, Mattie," Alfred muttered into the fabric. "Love you so, so much, and I'm sorry Arthur doesn't love us."

Matthew wrapped his arms around him in what had to be the weakest, shittiest hug ever. He couldn't even remember a time when they'd properly hugged each other. They were more the type to insult each other, hit each other, or maybe awkwardly say they loved each other before conveniently having to leave at the same time.

"Hey," Alfred said, face brightening. "At least you got other people who love you. Got the whole world. Lucky, lucky you." He chuckled. "You're not the only one who wants to switch places."

Matthew choked on a laugh-sob. "Sure, Al, if you say so."

Alfred looked troubled for all of three seconds before he forgot his train of thought completely. "This jacket makes you comfy. Like a comfy leather couch. I'm gonna take a nap and you can't stop me."

"Okay," Matthew said, for lack of a better response.

It was only after he heard his brother's soft breathing that he let himself begin to cry.

#hetalia #hws america #hws canada #na bros #na brothers

[kaylikestodrawlittlenightmares]

@tea-the-not-understanding

DRABBLE TIME… EVIL LAUGHTER

Tw:Gore,Murder,reanimation mentions,Talk of corpses, Tosuni is not ethical in the work place /j

“Like I said I’m not interested. I’m just going to bring him back on my own. And I won’t share.” Tosuni said her gaze now cold “has time turned you bitter bunny? How funny…” she said circling Tosuni, Tosuni held the cursers close. “Lower your guard scorpion.” Pomegranate said plainly “master wants her unharmed.” “I don’t give a flying FUCK what your Goddam master wants.” Tosuni yelled holding the cursers close. “What if we rip those cursers apart? Scorpions nails… are quite good at taking fabrics.” Pomegranate said the jingle of the bells on her mirror jingling. Tosuni stared at pomegranate “how about a hug? Maybe then I’d get along with you more.” She said to pomegranate with what looked like a genuine smile “I suppose…” said Pomegranate stepping forward and hugging Tosuni with a stone cold face. “Are you that naive…?” Tosuni said with a hiss as she shoved the artificial claws she had made deep into the other cookies chest. “Your heart will suffice I suppose. “ she said before ripping it out in front of pomegranate and plopping it into a jar she hid in her dress “that will do!~ I’m not the same bunny as before. “ she tossed pomegranates shocked and still on the last living seconds corpse to the ground. “You tell your Goddam glorified mother to get the fuck out of my face. Or I’ll take red velvets arms and your sisters eyes.” She spat at pomegranate before looking back at Scorpion “I am so sorry! It just makes me so angry when cookies interfere with my projects! Come on I’ll make you a cake as a sorry. And if you try to poison me I’ll harvest your organs one by one and keep you alive obviously!” She said with a grin- scorpion had… seen worse, but this cookie had changed “what are you?” She said repulsed by the others actions “My names Tosuni silly! And I’m a scientist! Get that in your very pretty head! Now come along I have to feed the cursers their strawberries! Wolves will eat your sisters corpse and if they don’t I’ll just burry her. Maybe ill join if you I’ll help you tell your mother to help me bring back my only true friend and I’ll join the cookies of darkness. How does that sound?” Scorpion was repulsed but intrigued “lets talk about this more… I’m curious as to your views of reanimating…. Him would be.” She said as she followed Tosuni “and why you haven’t killed anyone else.” Tosuni turned around with a confused look “Do you know what a corpse is? How many there are… and how little time it takes to dig them up? My father did it to eat it as tradition but I don’t eat them!~ He was scum I harvested his cat pelt and it’s a nice blanket for my cursers now- oh my babies… my sweet little babies… I’d kill for my cursers you know? They’re my children after all!” As the two were walking off, in a far land someone knew something happened. “Another star has broken. At this rate how many will we have left for the prophecy.. red and pink. Two in one day.” murmured starfruit who was dressed in a blind fold and darker clothes “you knew well she was to go insane.” Red velvet said as he laid on a former alter eating some grapes “considering she killed your wife-“ “she isn’t dead just yet. I’ll bake her another heart.” Said starfruit cutting off red velvet strictly “You were the first broken Star remember Starfruit cookie?”

Charlie sat in the far end of the temple- knowing on a dead mouse- before peeking up their little ears. They shrugged, it was probably just rum Licorice after all… she did get hungry often for other cookies considering she was still cursed. “I’m shocked we have four broken still..” said starfruit “Rum licorice, pomegranate,Me,Now Tosuni….how many remain? “ red velvet looked up at the sky light pointing his hand “ten. We only need four.” “We must not shatter any more for the time being… or she will be displeased…” “Yet why is that dam rabbit taking her time to become one of us?! She’ll get her own land.” “Because we can’t forcefully reanimate her friend. I refuse to do such things.”

#broken stars Tosuni #hehehehehe

[around1302]

XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two. 

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine. 

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back. 

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy. 

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine. 

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room. 

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body. 

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with. 

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail. 

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to. 

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly. 

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since. 

The shirt which now rests just below her bra. 

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out. 

“Be ready by seven.” 

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek. 

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air. 

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop. 

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.” 

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers. 

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally. 

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask. 

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.” 

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper. 

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.” 

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit. 

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#spare parts series #harry styles series #one direction series #harry styles x oc #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #1d series #1d ot5 #1d smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #one direction smut #one direction #one direction ot5 #ot5

[chans-room]

Craving Connection — 1

Warnings: reader has nickname Sugar Plum, familial drama, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of anxiety, allusions to abandonment/abandonment issues, discussions of toxic former relationships, discussions of cheating in said former relationship, Chan calls her ex a cunt (derogatory) multiple times lol, a little bit of spice but it’s very mild bc they’re in public but there’s a somewhat staged ~fake dating~ PDA moment I’m earning that tag on this one babes. Tbh that’s pretty much all there is before we swan dive into it 👀

Length: 4k + text conversation

A/n: so I am a backstory heavy bitch and I can’t seem to start my SMAUs without a few written chapters soooo sorry about that? Also I’m sorry this has taken 8000 years, I’m already working on the next part and have a fair amount of future chapters done so hopefully I’ll be able to update this pretty frequently. Thank you @bibbykins and @j-a-nuary for making this legible. also everyone can thank @gimmethatagustd for how the last scene turned out 🖤

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October 1, 2021 — 5:20am

She bounced on her toes, eyes scanning the small crowd of people pulling suitcases behind them for the familiar freckles of her favorite cousin. She knew he — and the friend he had brought with him — had landed, but the minutes seemed to drag as she watched families and friends reuniting all around her, in the dead of the night.

But the crowd thinning made her palms sweat. The fear that her parents had found out, and gone against their self-imposed rule to never speak about her again, and that Felix had changed his mind about her. 

“Felix! You can’t just drop your shit here, mate!” A voice called out, making her stop in the midst of her aimless pacing and her head snap toward the direction of the sound. She only saw a flash of black before someone slammed into her chest, knocking the wind out of her as they crashed into the floor. 

“Sugar Plum, I’ve missed you so much!” Felix’s deep voice nearly reverberated in her chest from where he laid on top of her, deceptively strong arms constricting around her. 

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she giggled, tightening her grip on him, “You have no idea how much I missed you, Lix.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” he sighed, loosening his grip to hover over her, a pleased smile on his face. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on.”

She rolled her eyes, letting him pull her off the ground before wrapping her in another tight hug. It sent a deep pain through her chest, the moment mirroring the last time she’d seen him — standing in that very airport 2 years before, saying goodbye to him before he left for Seoul. They had cried and promised to see each other at Christmas, Easter, and on every overlapping holiday they could find. It was a promise she regretted breaking — but it was one she had no control over. That had been the first of many days she felt truly alone; and if she’d known what would follow, she might have gone with him then. Maybe if she had, she would still have a family. 

“Felix!” The same voice from earlier called out, making them both look over their shoulders to find the source.

He was gorgeous, even if he was angry. His strong brows were furrowed over narrowed, sparkling brown eyes. “Oh! Good, you’re here,” Felix smiled proudly, before gesturing toward him and clearing his throat, “This is my friend, and roommate, he owed me a favor, which is why he’s here. Besides, his birthday is in like 2 days and I’m such a good friend, so I brought him home to see his family. Aren’t I the best, Chris?”

Dread shot through her at the name; she couldn’t seem to escape memories of him. She pushed down the bitter taste in her mouth — she couldn’t be unfairly judging her cousin's friend just because he shared the unfortunate fate of having the same name as her ex. 

Fortunately, her momentary battle with her brain wasn’t noticed by either boy, seeing as Felix was ignoring the way his friend’s plump lips were pulled tight into a grimace, his strong jaw clenching in anger as he dragged three suitcases behind him, his thick arms piled high with various sweaters and a bouquet of flowers. She bit her lip to suppress a laugh as he glared daggers at her cousin, his gaze softening slightly as he took her in, before hardening again as he refocused on the boy next to her.

“Felix, if you abandon me again with all of your shit, I will leave it behind,” he seethed, dropping the pile of sweaters on the ground with a muffled thump, earning an indignant scream from Felix.

“That’s Hyunjin’s cashmere!” He yelped, diving at the pile. 

The glare faded into an endeared smile as he watched Felix dust off the sweater, shaking his head fondly before turning his attention to her. He held out the bouquet, the soft smile on his plush lips pushing his cheeks up to make his eyes nearly disappear into tiny crescents. “He got these for you back in Seoul. He made the flight attendant put them in water for nearly the whole thing so they wouldn’t wilt. I’m Chan by the way.”

She could feel the tears well up in her eyes again as she took the flowers from him, trying to still her shaking hands. “Thank you,” she forced out, internally cringing at the quiver in her voice as she did. She cleared her throat before tearing her eyes off her cousin, willing away her tears, “So… Chris? Chan? Do you have a preference?”

“No, not really,” he laughed with a shrug, “Felix is really the only one to call me Chris, except my family. All our other friends call me Chan.”

The admission put her mind at ease as she nodded absently, staring at the tulips in her hands, as she mumbled her name to him, followed by a shy, “Everyone calls me Sugar Plum though.” she shrugged, making him smile.

“Honestly, you can call me whatever  you like,” he said, feigning indifference before leaning in and whispering in her ear, “and Sugar Plum is cute, but I think I’d rather call you mine.”

She choked on a gasp and a giggle as he backed away, throwing her a wink.

—

—

October 1, 2021 — 1:45 pm

“You really don’t have to spend the day with me, Chan,” she sighed, slipping the sunglasses down her nose to stare at him over the edge of the frame, “I know you want to see your family and spend time with them. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself for one day.”

Chan felt the bittersweet edge to her words, and he hated how they made his chest tingle with unease. The tone of her voice stirred an ugly anger in his gut as he considered why she would be so quick to dismiss herself. It made him want to prove her wrong — to show her that she was someone who anyone would want to spend time with; someone who he wanted to spend time with.

With a big smile, he threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side, not missing the way she bit her lip and tried to hide the grin growing on her face. “Nah, it’s kinda nice to get to see Sydney like this, you know? I’ve never stayed in a fancy hotel like the one you’re staying in. But also I’m glad I have the chance to get to know you better,” he smiled, watching her sink behind her hands. “Besides, Felix will be back tomorrow, and seeing my parents for two days is better than the zero I thought I would.”

“I’m just saying if you don’t wanna be with me today you don’t need to. I’m used to doing things alone,” she mumbled, making Chan frown.

“Yeah, well, I don’t wanna be alone, so you’re stuck with me today,” he grinned, scrunching his nose at her hesitant expression. “Come on, we’re almost up and you haven’t decided what you want!” He could feel her heartbeat under his hand resting in the middle of her back, and part of him hoped that it was because of him.

“Are you always this serious about ice cream?” She asked, staring up at him with raised eyebrows.

“Are you not serious about ice cream? I mean, come on, it’s one of life’s most simple pleasures!” He exclaimed, drawing attention from the people surrounding them. The laugh that tore out of her made his heart race; he’d never heard anything so perfect.

“You just have to cause a scene, don’t you,” she giggled, pressing her face into his shoulder to hide from the disapproving stare of the old woman in front of them who was shaking her head and mumbling to herself.

“Only when it makes you laugh like that,” he sighed, pleased that he’d been able to pull her out of the tense, almost sour mood she’d been in since Felix told her he would be gone for the day. He didn’t need to know everything that happened with their family to know that she’d been hurt, and something about that sat heavily in his gut. What he did know was that it was too nice of a day for her to spend it alone in the hotel.

“So tell me about school. You’re on the soccer team with Lix, right? What’s everyone else like? What do you all study?” She asked, pushing her sunglasses back onto the top of her head, “I want to know all the details before I start next week.” 

The attention turning on him made heat flood his cheeks, cursing the pink tinge he knew was creeping up his neck as she stared up at him expectantly. The look in her eyes made his mouth run dry — he couldn’t feel like that about her. There was no way Felix would let him live if he tried, and as his roommate, he needed to keep the peace. 

But the feeling of her fingers curling around his bicep made his head swim and his heart race. He knew already there was no way he could deny the effect she had on him. He could only hope she felt the same.

October 1, 2021 — 4:10pm

“Do you wanna hang out here or walk around a bit more?” Chan asked, shoving his wallet back into his pocket as they wandered away from the counter.

She felt her heart flutter for the millionth time that day as he looked at her expectantly. She didn’t know if she could ever get used to someone caring about her opinion so much — it was equal parts exciting and unsettling. 

“It’s supposed to rain, so maybe we should start heading back to the hotel?” She shrugged, trying to push the unease out of her mind; trying to convince herself that Chan wasn’t Christian. Felix would never have trusted him if he was.

At that moment she realized she’d almost gone the whole day without thinking of him. But the moment the thought of him passed through her mind, it was as if she’d conjured him. Because behind Chan’s shoulder, she watched him walk through the door, arm around the shoulders of a girl she had only seen once — the night she packed her things and left him.

“Fuck,” she whispered. He shouldn’t have been there, he should have been in Singapore, planning his wedding. Not in Australia, not in Sydney, but definitely not in her favourite coffee shop. It made her blood boil and her hands shake — Christian had refused to set foot inside it again after she had dragged him there the first time. He’d even told her that she was embarrassing for wanting to go back there. But now; here he was with Hanako. With the fiancée he’d conveniently forgotten to mention. 

Jealousy and rage clouded her senses, but the crushing sense of inadequacy that filled her made her stomach turn. He never looked at her the way he was looking at Hanako — so full of love and adoration. She couldn’t even blame him; she was gorgeous. Her silky black hair cascaded down her back effortlessly, and a sweet smile seemed to be set permanently on her heart shaped lips. The more she stared at her the more self conscious she became — Hanako seemed to be everything she was not.

She realized at that moment it was never about the coffee shop; he was embarrassed to be with her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asked, crowding her sight as he pulled her toward the wall of books. His hands cradling her face tenderly made the fresh wave of tears sting in her eyes. She hated it — she hated that he could see the cracks in her, hated how Christian could find new ways to hurt her, and hated that there was still part of her that was affected by him.

“Not really,” she laughed sarcastically, pushing the bone crushing hurt back down. “That guy over there, the asshole with the tattoos and the all black, the one with the girl in the dress? He’s my ex. And I don’t want him to see me.”

Chan’s head whipped around to look over his shoulder, finding them with ease before turning back to face her, “That guy?”

She nodded, “Yeah. And that’s his fiancée.”

“What a cunt,” Chan mumbled, shaking his head. 

She grabbed his shoulders, positioning her in front of him to effectively block herself from Christian’s view, using Chan’s broad frame as a shield, “I can’t stand him.“

“Hey, don’t worry about him, just focus on me,” Chan said softly, shuffling forward to cage her against the bookshelf. “What do you wanna do?”

“I just-I don’t want him to see me. He wasn’t supposed to be here,” she mumbled with a pout.

He nodded before he took a step forward, pressing her back fully against the wall, “I’m gonna touch you, is that okay?” He asked, his hands hovering over her waist. The earnestness in his eyes gave her goosebumps; she couldn’t remember a time anyone looked at her like he was right then. 

“Yeah, you can touch me,” she nodded breathlessly, “Can I..?”

“Of course,” he smiled, shivering as her hands skimmed across his shoulders, one hand gently tracing shapes into the muscle of his chest while the other occupied itself with the curly black hairs at the nape of his neck. “God it’s so stupid but I’m just-like-I have so many questions.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes, tugging his hair lightly, “Don’t say it’s stupid, you’re curious. That’s normal. I’ll answer whatever you wanna know.”

“I’m not sure I wanna know honestly,” he laughed bitterly, “Whatever you tell me will probably just make me want to punch him in the face.”

A soft warmth spread through her at his honesty; it was incredibly refreshing after spending 2 years constantly guessing what Christian was thinking or feeling. For a second she imagined how nice it would be to be with someone like him. But she quickly shook herself out of the fantasy — she barely knew Chan, how could she possibly think she knew him well enough to imagine a relationship with him.

“I doubt it, Channie,” she sighed, looking away from his eyes, focusing on the thin gold chain that sat on his collarbones. It caught the light every time she twirled a curl around her finger, making an image of him hovering over her with his chain smacking his chin as he pounded into her flash through her head. Tendrils of lust curled in her belly — she didn’t know how thoroughly and quickly Chan managed to take root in her head but she knew it couldn’t be good. 

“Well, he’s your ex and he has a fiancée, so I think anything I find out about him is going to make me hate him more than I do right now,” he scoffed before adding, “You’re lucky it’s me with you today and not Felix. He wouldn’t even ask, he’d just start swinging.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that — he was right. Her cousin was prone to reacting first and asking questions later. “I mean, that’s fair I guess. But honestly it was barely a relationship. I mean, you and I are being more scandalous now than he and I ever were.”

“You’re telling me he had you and he wasn’t showing you off to everyone with eyes?” Chan asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

She shook her head before answering, “We didn’t really do… anything. We didn’t go out, I never met his friends or family and he never met mine. I realize now it’s because I was his side piece and he couldn’t have anyone asking about me,” she shrugged, wishing she didn’t sound so defeated. 

Chan’s body went rigid under her hands, his jaw clenched and his hands tightening on her hips. “What a fucking cunt,” he ground out through his teeth, “If you were mine, fuck, I’d never be able to keep my hands off you. My friends would be sick of how much I talk about you, Sugar Plum — especially Felix.”

The flames of desire surged in her veins again; it was almost overwhelming. She knew Chan was dangerous for her for any number of reasons, but the main one being that he made her want for the first time in a long time. She didn’t realize how much she craved what he was offering until he put it into words. But she didn’t know if he meant it as seriously or as desperately as she wanted it. 

Chan’s voice in her ear made her shiver, pulling her out of the thought spiral that was beginning to consume her. “I really can’t stand this,” he mumbled before a wicked smile spread across his face, “Alright, so, I’m gonna get real close to you, and you’re gonna slip your hand under the back of my shirt, okay? If you’re uncomfortable or want me to back off, I will, but he needs to know what he lost. So he can see you’re not bothered by him.”

Her mouth went dry as she put his plan together in her head, watching the smirk grow as she dropped one hand from where it was resting on the back of his neck, her fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “You’re evil, just like me,” she breathed, splaying her hand across his warm, muscular expanse of skin as both of his grabbed her hips, adjusting his stance so he could tower over her slightly. “I like that about you,” she admitted, making him chuckle.

He surged forward, his nose bumping against hers, “I like that about you too, Sugar Plum,” he smiled, “Now if you wanna really sell it, I’m gonna dip my head down and you’re gonna pull my hair and kiss my neck.”

“Okay,” she whispered back, feeling Chan’s breath on her neck, his hand sliding into her hair to steer her where he wanted her. Her fingers tightened in his hair on instinct as her lips brushed the junction of his neck — making goosebumps spread across his tanned arms. She felt him shudder, giggling an apology into his skin.

“Don’t be sorry,” he argued, resting his forehead against her collarbone, “It was nice, I just can’t control what my body does when someone like you kisses my neck like that. I mean, it’s really not fair.” 

She was about to apologize again when she felt his plush lips make contact with her skin, but where her touch was fleeting and almost accidental, his lips attached themselves to her neck with force. 

The gentle suction ripped a startled gasp from her. He pulled away with a wet pop, smiling innocently, “Now we’re even,” he shrugged. “I’m sure he’s fucking boiling now. I know I would be if I saw that.” 

It took her a second to remember how their little charade had begun, feeling dizzy because of Chan’s presence and proximity. She had nearly forgotten about Christian entirely, something she couldn’t deny made her stomach flip with both anxiety and excitement. She had to fight through the haze in her mind to even think of a coherent response. “Chan I don’t think he’s looking—“

“Why wouldn’t he be looking? You’re the most interesting thing here. Everyone should be looking.”

The absolute certainty in his voice was staggering to her — she knew he meant it. But she couldn’t understand why. He barely knew her, but he was committing near public indecency just to spite her ex on her behalf. Maybe it was because he was so close with Felix, one of the only people she trusted wholeheartedly and implicitly, but she didn’t question Chan’s intentions or authenticity in the slightest.

It made her want him even more.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” she whispered back, the words coming out of their own volition. She knew he meant it — but she needed to hear him confirm it.

He surged forward, his nose bumping against hers — a habit of his that she enjoyed a little too much. “Hey, I fucking mean it, yeah? You’re incredible. And just because that asshole couldn’t see it doesn’t make it any less true,” Chan said seriously, pushing a piece of hair out of her face, “You’re so—“

“Babe, what the fuck is all this? Who the fuck are you letting grope you in our place.” 

The too familiar voice that cut him off felt like a bucket of ice water being thrown on her.

She peeked over Chan’s shoulder to see Christian — sans Hanako — glaring daggers at the back of Chan’s head. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Chan’s voice, “Excuse you, mate, but who the right fuck are you? And what business of yours who gropes her where?”

A shocked scoff came out of Christian, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Chan, “I’m her boyfriend, mate, which is why I wanna know why you’re all over her.”

Chan threw his head back, a full laugh tearing out of his throat before shaking his head, “Nah, you’re her ex aren’t you? I’ve heard all about you,” Chan rolled his eyes, turning back to face her, his expression softening as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone and down to her lips, gently pulling her bottom lip from between her teeth. She hadn’t realized she’d begun to chew on it nervously as she looked between them, but Chan’s soft smile and gentle hands made the tension drop from her frame. “Why don’t you leave us alone? Don’t you have a fiancée to look after, champ?”

She saw the rage ignite in Christian’s eyes at his obvious insult, his mouth opening to say something that she knew would slice through her straight to the bone — a skill he wielded like a professional through their relationship. He always knew what to say to inflict the most damage the fastest, leaving her shattered in his wake.

But before he could make a sound, her name was being called out — signaling their order was ready — and Chan was steering her away from him. 

She took a single step forward before a hand closed around her wrist, dragging her out from Chan’s arm. “Don’t fucking walk away from me again, baby. You don’t understand—“

“No, Christian. I don’t need to understand anything. You had a fucking fiancée the whole time we were together. Do you know how much that hurt me? After all that I gave up for you?” She couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out — but if she was honest with herself, she needed to say them. “And before you say anything, to try and manipulate yourself out of the mess you made — I heard you say that I meant nothing to you; that I was just a piece of ass you were fucking around with before settling down. So get your hands off me,” she seethed, glaring at him. Pain sparkled in his eyes as he opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off, “Just stop, Chris; I don’t want to hear it. Now let me go.” He staggered back as if he’d been slapped, releasing her. 

Chan took her hand, making her turn to look at him over her shoulder, “You ready to leave?”

She couldn’t trust her voice anymore, only managing a nod before his arm was around her shoulders, pulling her toward the exit, grabbing their coffees and passing her drink off to her seamlessly. 

With that, they walked out of the doors, not bothering to look behind them. And for the first time in years she felt in control. She didn’t feel like a pawn being used or a prop in someone else’s life. The rush of it was addicting; the electricity of it seemed to thrum under her skin. Chan made her feel powerful, and she never wanted it to stop. 

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[cosmal]

Stop the Car | James Potter

Summary :: James is your best friend and disapproves of your current lifestyle. Which he doesn’t know, your weekend hookups are only a means to get over your seemingly unrequited love for him.

Warnings/Tags :: best friends arguing, james being an absolute tool, slut shaming!, angst with only a slight happy ending, remus and sirius being the bestest friends ever

there will not be a part two to this! i’ve explained a few times why so please don’t expect anything else, i’m sorry.

“James, you can’t be serious right now?” You scoffed, digging your heels into the footwell of his car, arms crossed over your chest.

“I am,” He laughed dryly, “We’re leaving.” He looked furious and you had no idea why. His chest was heaving, his hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly as he pulled away from the curb, leaving the party behind. The thrumming music became nothing but a whisper as he turned the corner.

“I don’t understand.” You questioned, turning to face him, “What is your problem?”

“Seatbelt.”

“What?”

“Put your bloody seatbelt on.”

You look down at his lap and roll your eyes at the fact that he himself hadn’t put his seatbelt on. You almost want to laugh at his reckless irony, but you don’t and decide to just put your own seatbelt on instead of arguing about it.

“Why did you have to embarrass me like that?” You huff, reaching down to unclasp your heels to take them off, hopefully easing the pain around your dented ankles.

“Embarrass you?” He laughs, “You did all the embarrassing yourself,”

You try not to be offended by whatever it was he was implying. But you knew where this conversation was going. You’d been anticipating it for weeks. “I was having a good time.”

“A good time? Eating that muggles' face off?” He questions, upping the speed of his car, a great show of his unnecessary anger, “Look, I don’t care how you spend your nights out, but you-”

“Seems like you care a great deal, Potter.”

He looks at you, a little disappointed for a half second, and if you weren’t sobering up you wouldn’t have noticed it. It was gone quicker than it was there. “So what if I do, huh? I care that you got drunk at some trashy house party with people you don’t even know. Could you name a single person you were with tonight?”

“James, I think you’re forgetting that I’m an adult now.” You want to laugh but you don’t, you are beyond angry with him, “If you wanted to go out partying and fuck random girls, I don’t think I would stop you. I trust you, which is something I can’t say the same for you, about me.”

“What are you talk- of course I trust you!” He sighs angrily, trying to somewhat calm himself down, but he knows a breathing exercise is going to help, “You’re just being reckless.”

“James I don’t understand!” Now you’ve started to raise your voice, biting your tongue to keep your frustrated tears at bay, “You’re not my bloody boyfriend, why do you care so much?”

It’s then that he eases up on the pedal, the roaring sound of his engine dies down slightly, and the small silence is almost deafening. His heaving breaths mixed with your stuttered ones were the only things to be heard for what felt like forever. In reality, the silence only lasted seconds.

“Y/N,” He laughs, actually laughs. Which only makes you angrier, “Trust me, I know I’m not your boyfriend. How would I even find the time to ask you on a date between each random fuck you have.” He sounds bitter, his words spewing from his mouth with nothing but pity.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your eyelids flitter in some sort of sorry means of keeping back the burning tears that wanted to escape. Though you eventually let them, too tired of arguing and swallowing back the lump in your throat to keep them in, “What’s…” You hiccup, and instead of sounding as pathetic as you feel, you laugh wetly, “What’s that supposed to mean, James?”

“I think you know what it means,” He doesn’t even look at you, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, irate features lit up by every street lamp you pass. You watch as his jaw clenches and his eyebrows don’t relax in the slightest. You’re partly glad he hasn’t looked at you, you don’t want him to see you crying. Though you feel he can probably sense it. James had never, ever treated you this way and you were so confused. Angry, but more confused.

You wished the party had been closer to your flat because this trip felt like it had been the longest you’d ever been on. When really, it was only going to be 20 minutes at the most. You realise for the first time ever, you didn’t want to surround yourself with James, and it hurt.

You look out the window to somewhat distract yourself and it’s only then, when you’re not pointlessly arguing with James, that you realise you’re not on the way to your own neighbourhood.

“Where are we going?” You mumble, wiping your nose. Cringing at the line of wetness on your sleeve.

“My house,” He mumbles back.

“Like fuck we are.” You scoff.

“What?”

“Take me home, please.”

“We’re almost at mine. I’ll take the lounge,”

“I want to go to mine, James.” You wring your hands in your lap, biting at your lip to stay calm.

“I’m tired, Y/N. You’re on the other side of town, just come back to mine and I’ll take you home in the morning.” He flicks his indicator a little too hard as he rounds the corner a few blocks from his house.

“You were the one who picked me up. Take me home.”

James looks a little sad for a moment but showed no signs of actually saying something redeeming or meaningful, “Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted me-”

“Stop the car.”

“Huh?” For the first time since you hopped in his car, he actually turns to look at you. Confused and less angry than before.

“Stop the car, James.” You sit up in your seat and pick up your shoes at your feet and place them on your lap.

“Why?”

“Because you’re being a fucking dick and I don’t want to be near you right now.” You want to cry even harder than before, but you don’t. You just want to get out of his car. Which was suddenly feeling like it was growing hotter, your breaths quickening and hands growing clammy around your shoes. You felt like if you gripped them any harder, the faux leather would’ve snapped in your hands.

“Okay, I’ll take you home. Just calm down.” He indicates out to turn around and it’s when he stops to reverse, you take it as your opportunity to open your door and clamber out of the car.

You slam your door behind you and pay James no mind even when you hear his muffled yells through the closed car. You’re only a few metres up the grassy path when he manages to complete his turn and slowly pull up next to you with the passenger window down.

“Y/N, get back in the car.” He leans down to eye you from the window, opposite hand draped across the wheel. Only taking small glances back at the road, attention more focused on you.

You don’t reply, continuing your strides up the beaten path, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of sharp gravel stones digging into your bare feet. Couldn’t be worse than the heels you were wearing. You let the worst of your tears stream down your already damp cheeks, staggered intake of breaths, which were more like hiccups, causing your chest to heave.

“I won’t let you walk home in the dark.” He steers back out into the middle of the road to avoid a parked car, driving back across to the curb to where you were walking. He winces as you trip over an uneven paver, subconsciously moving his hand out even though it was impossible for him to steady you in any way.

“You won’t? What are you gonna do James?” It was impossible to see through the tears blurring your vision but you’d be damned if you got back in the car with him. Your feet were battered and your head hurt, but you could walk home in the dim light, you’d done it before after one of your nights out. You weren’t going to tell him that though, he’d probably only judge you more.

“Just get back in the car, Y/N.”

“Nope.”

You were probably being overdramatic, but you didn’t care at all. You were beyond angry with him, actually probably more shocked than anything. You didn’t pick him to be the sort to judge you over how you spent your nights out, but here he was proving you wrong.

Which was what hurt more, the fact that you’d never thought he would ever treat you like this. He was your best friend, and sometimes maybe you thought there might’ve been more than that. Maybe all you could do was blame it on your own self-sabotaging ways of your partying and one-night stands. But the only real reason you did things like that was because you knew you could never have James. Well, that’s what you thought.

Were you more angry at James, or with yourself?

You stop and watch as he parks the car, unbuckling his belt to get out, “Please, don’t get out of the car.”

He actually stops, finally listening to you. Either due to you actually now pleading, or how you’d stopped in your own tracks yourself.

“Just let me take you home. Please.”

“I’m so angry with you right now. Please leave me alone.” You urged. You found it hard to ignore how hurt he looked at what you were saying, but before you felt any sympathy for your best friend, you were replaying his earlier words in your head.

“And if I just drive off, and something happens to you? I will never forgive myself. Ever.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you were dragging me out of that party. This is only your fault, James.”

“I was trying to look out for you.” His voice goes quiet, his stare flickering to the ground.

“You don’t need to…I never asked you to.” You roughly palm at your eyes to wipe away the tears you had no control over anymore, “You’re not my boyfriend and by the sounds of it, that sounds like something that you would never want. Like you’re ashamed of me or something.”

You didn’t mean to let those last words slip. Didn’t want to insinuate that you thought he would ever want to be anything more than just best friends. Even though before you had ever started sleeping with other people, it was the only thing you ever wanted. And unfortunately, deep down you still did.

But the look on his face as he puts his seatbelt back on has your heart shattering, falling into your stomach which only tangled into a mess of hurt and a small amount of guilt.

He wipes his face, hand landing over his eyes for a moment to squeeze at his head, sniffling away the tears you hadn’t noticed he had been crying,

“Okay, Y/N. If that’s what you think.” He puts his car into drive, both hands back to the wheel, “But, I don’t care how angry you are with me right now, you’re going to message me when you get home.”

You only nod, more tears shaking off to land on your shirt. Biting into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as you watch him drive off.

You clutch your strappy heels in your hand, sniffling and hiccuping as you make your way back to your flat. It wasn’t that far, and you considered calling a taxi, but you thought the walk would’ve been more punishing for how your night had gone.

You hadn’t turned many corners, slowly on your way back to your flat before there was a car pulling up next to you. You tense for a moment but you relax as soon as you realise it’s one you knew all too well to be Remus’s. You squint into the front seats and see him behind the wheel, Sirius sat in the passenger seat looking sad but a little sorry.

“Need a ride?” He asks, dialling down the low music to a stop.

You sniffle, hugging your shoes closer to your chest, “Did James call you?”

“What do you think?” He laughs kindly, getting out and ushering you into his seat, “You didn’t think he’d actually let you walk home alone?” You hesitate momentarily before deciding it would probably be easier to just get into Remus’s car.

You hop into the front, sinking into the leather seat, warmed by Sirius thankfully. You throw your shoes to the footwell and put your seatbelt on, hugging your knees to your chest, feet digging in the bottom of the seat.

“Hey lovely,” Remus smiles warmly, though you can tell he’s upset. For you or James you weren’t sure, but it pained you.

Sirius hops in the back and before you know it, Remus is headed for your flat.

“I’m sorry to disturb your night. I’m sure you guys were busy doing other things,” You murmur into your lap, sniffling some more.

“You saved little ol’ Remus actually,” Sirius chuckles, leaning across to pat him on the shoulder, “He’s terrible at that muggle game you showed me. Blackjack is it? I think I was on the way to winning, had him down to jocks,”

You giggle wetly at the thought of them playing strip blackjack, “Looks like I’m a bit of a cockblock,”

“Ah that’s alright, Moons is a very sore loser anyways,” He leans back into his seat, hands behind his head and feet on the middle console.

“Pads,” Remus chides, whacking his feet off the leather. “Do I have to scold you every time you’re in the back?”

“I’m never back here so don’t act like you’re always telling me to put my feet down.” He sighs, pulling his feet to the carpeted floor.

“I had you in the back just yesterday, if I remember correctly.” Remus laughs, turning a corner.

Sirius snorts and so do you, “That you did, Moons. That you did.”

You giggle some more which has Sirius jumping forward, “Y/N don’t get me wrong, I love hearing that little giggle of yours,” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, unsticking it from your cheek. “But I know James has upset you and he won’t tell us why.”

His thoughtfulness has your temporary happiness simmering down, thankful that the two of them had distracted you so easily for only a small amount of time.

“I’d love to know what he had to say,” You were sure he wouldn’t have admitted any wrong. He was arrogant sometimes and never usually would.

“He didn’t say much. Was just crying saying something about how he fucked up and we should go pick you up,” Remus replies.

You breath catches, heart skipping at James being so upset over your argument. But all your judgment is clouded by how he had treated you not only thirty minutes ago. You were conflicted.

“Well, you can drop me home and then you can go see him if you want. He probably needs you both more than I do,”

“Jeez Y/N, you are so blinded by him, aren’t you?” Sirius laughs.

“What?”

“He’s the one being a total prat and you think he deserves to be comforted more than you?”

“You don’t even know what he did. For all you know I could be the one who’s being the asshole,” You wriggle in your seat, wanting nothing more than this night to be over.

“It takes a lot for James to admit he’s fucked up, so I know whatever he did was wrong.” He squeezes your shoulder soothingly, and you shudder under his comforting touch, “And I know that if he’s upset you, then he’s the one definitely in the wrong.”

You smile reassuringly at him as Remus slowly pulls up out the front of your building, only a few windows lit up this late of the night. You gather your things and turn to both boys as you unbuckle yourself, “Thank you.” You smile sadly, gripping Remus’s hand that’s sat in his lap, “Both of you. You didn’t need to pick me up, really. But it definitely made my night easier.”

“You want us to come up? Scare away any ghosts under your bed?” Sirius smiles.

“No it’s okay, I’ll see you guys later on.” You place a wet kiss to both boys' cheeks, going to get out but not before they both grab onto your shoulders, placing their own kisses on each of your own cheeks warmly. Making you giggle as you turn to step out.

“Thanks boys. Love you both. Go win Blackjack for me, Moons.” You laugh as you shut the door behind you.

You sigh as you peer up at your apartment building. Happy that your two friends were so good at distracting you from the actual problem at hand, upset that now you’re alone and it will be all you can think about until you sort it out with James. But for now, you were going up to your flat to overthink for a few hours, probably not without crying until it exhausts you enough to fall asleep.

James Potter was an unfortunate problem you’d have to deal with when you felt so. And ironic enough he’s the exact person you would go to with a problem like this.

When you were feeling up to it and you find it in yourself to forgive him, maybe you’d sort it out with him then.

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