#I came for a good fun time why am I crying and mourning something I cannot get myself to enjoy

[sqwdkllr]

fuck radiosilence/radiostatic fans fucking ruin me with the extremely relatable aroace perspective in their creative works. I don’t think I would have ever predicted genuinely getting emotional over some guy with a screen face and a guy with a fucked haircut. This is so awful why are you guys some of the most talented writers I have ever seen

How am I supposed to sleep and move on with my life after reading an aroace character realize they are different and it’s not common and find themselves mourning for that connection while detesting it outright? Fucks sake just gut me instead it would hurt less than this

[dearanakin]

Taste this Moment - Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: You wake up next to Steve after having too much booze, without any memory of the night before. You have a secret behind your excuse of telling people you were a virgin.

Warnings: Slight mention of sexual abuse, smut, flufiness, cursing. 18+ DNI

Word count: 3.9k

You woke up with a crushing headache, the pain was pounding all over your head as you tried to adjust your sight to the light coming from the window.

You had just realized you were laying on a bed that wasn't yours, along with someone who seemed to be deep into their sleep on your side.

There was a party the other night you went to with your friends, everyone included besides the kids, obviously. You knew you had a lot of alcohol, but now you weren't sure how you ended up there.

Only then you noticed you were wearing your lingerie and nothing else, the body next to you moved and you realized it was Steve Harrington.

Oh shit, what have you done? You let a groan out of your mouth as Steve uncovers himself, leaving his bare hairy chest on sight.

He was only wearing his boxers and it came to you the only possible answer to that was something you were definitely not expecting to be.

If it happened, how would you feel knowing your first time was with Steve and, on top of that, you couldn't remember shit?

You looked at each other trying to collect memories from the night before but it was just all blank. Fuck. You let out an ironic chuckle and he raised his eyebrow to you.

"Did we have sex? Because I don't remember a thing. And shit, this is beyond fucked up", you say as you start looking for any piece of clothing only to find a t-shirt that wasn't yours.

"I'm not sure", he said as he gets up and starts looking for his own clothes.

"Okay Harrington, but what could've made us do that besides the alcohol?".

"Uh, ouch?", he looked at you and mourned. "Am I not good enough for that?"

"I didn't mean it that way. I want to know what lead us to Nancy's bedroom", you couldn't find any pants in there so you went to the wardrobe, but you didn't want to steal them.

"This isn't her room", his tone could barely be heard and you scoffed.

"So we fucked. In a bedroom that isn't hers. What else?", you try to stay focused on not snapping.

"I don't think this not being her bedroom is the issue here, (Y/N). Now, how are you so sure we had sex?", he fixed his hair in front of the mirror and stared at you through it.

You were almost naked, sure. But you and Steve didn't even have a thing, you never kissed. You never even had a date. You were just friends, not that close, even.

Why, on earth, would you have sex in someone's bedroom either way?

"Our clothes are missing, for starters. We had a lot of alcohol, most people become vulnerable when they drink a lot", you explained.

"I'm pretty sure I would remember having sex. I always wear protection", Harrington sounded like he was somewhat hurt.

He started looking for his wallet but his jeans weren't even there. Maybe he was actually making a good point.

"So tell me. Why would it be so terrible to have sex with me?", he asked as he sat on the bed.

"It's because I've never actually had sex before", you couldn't even look at him. You thought he would laugh at you, make fun of you.

"Ohhh", he responded. "Well, if it's any comfort, sometimes first times aren't even that good".

"That doesn't help shit, Steve!". You worshiped your body too much to fuck someone else, or do that anywhere at any time.

"Shit. I'm sorry, really. I don't think we really did it", he made sure he was comforting you.

You were about to cry. You were too sentimental, you didn't want your first time to be like that. He isn't the problem, the situation is.

"Promise you'd wear protection?", you ask shyly. He gives you an honest chuckle.

"I always do. That's not an issue for me", he reassured you.

Somehow you found yourself feeling softness for him, for the way he usually treats other girls and the way he was being gentle to you.

"I'm sorry I overreacted", you bit your lower lip and he gave you a side smile.

"That's fine. I understand how people care for their first time", Steve rested his hand on your shoulder.

After a while you found your clothes drying in the backyard, which made you both confused, actually. Nancy explained you both and other people jumped in the pool at some point.

You slept with your lingerie because that was the only piece of clothing that dried faster. She also told you Steve slept with you because you were feeling sick.

But still, you couldn't remember a thing from the other night. Neither did him, he just wasn't feeling sick because he was used to having a lot of alcohol.

He made a mental note to not ever drink that much anymore.

"You keep my shirt on. It looks good on you anyway", he said before you changed the fabric.

You couldn't hold a smile at him and he mirrored you.

"I'll give it back soon".

♥️♥️♥️♥️

You arrived at the Family Video holding his folded shirt and a few VHS you had rented. It was a Monday morning and the place always had a few people in.

Steve and Robin were working hard already and they barely saw you coming. But as soon as he crossed eyes with you, he made a gesture meaning he would be with you in a moment.

Harrington stood against the counter as you placed the tapes above it along with his clothing.

"Thank you. How were the movies? Did you like the teddy bears?", he asked playfully. He knew he was making an old joke.

"They're Ewoks. And Star Wars is amazing. You should watch it sometime", you laughed.

"Maybe we could make a movie night with the others and watch it", he offered.

"That sounds like a good idea", you smile.

"I was wondering if we could meet for lunch. I've got a few things I remember from the other night". Steve looked a bit shy, especially knowing how weird it was when you woke up next to each other after too much alcohol.

"Uh, I thought Nancy explained you took care of me because I was sick?", you were beyond confused.

"Yeah, you were. But there were some other things. Don't worry though, they're not about you being.. you know".

"If you say so. I'll meet you at the diner then", you smiled before waving him goodbye.

It was 20 past midday when you entered the diner and spotted him sitting on a table close to the door. He was sipping on a cup of soda as you approached him and took a seat.

Steve was actually practicing how he would start this conversation without being too invasive. His memories were a bit foggy but he remembered something really important you told him. And it was actually about your sex life.

He didn't realize he spent about a minute dozing off, only to see you snapping your fingers in front of him.

"Vecna caught you there?", you try to make a dry joke and he rolls his eyes. "I'm sorry, I got carried away".

"Those bats almost ate me alive, alright?", he sounded offended but he let that go. "Look, the reason we actually woke up together was because I took you there so you could rest".

"You were really drunk, almost passing out on the toilet after you threw up, so I took you there. We were already wet from the pool so I just didn't care about the underwear, really".

You were paying attention to the details, you could barely remember anything from that night, not even vomiting your guts out from the booze.

"But when I put you in the bed, you started rambling about some guy you met in high school. I figured, since we were there alone, maybe you thought we were going to get some right there. You said he was nice to you but he.. corrupted you", Harrington were careful with the words as he tried to gather every little thing.

But for you, inside, it was like all the flashbacks from that day in middle school rushed back into your head. There was a reason you said you were a virgin to any guy you were about to get laid with.

There was a reason you were so defensive about your body when you realized you were in a bedroom with him.

And worse, you didn't remember anything. It was enough already to have been defenseless in a position you didn't want to anymore. The way that guy used to touch you made your skin crawl.

"Hey, are you okay with me telling you that? I mean, I can stop. I figure you already know what I'm talking about", Steve grabbed your hand carefully.

He was gazing at you with an intense look of compassion and it made your heart flinch. Not romantically, but because that was something you cherished about a guy.

"I, uh, I think it's fine. Did I talk about it too much?", you felt your eyes burning over the tears that wanted to fall but you held them back.

"You said he didn't take care of you. Said he made it feel like it was some kind of porno or something". Steve was an adult and that, for him, sounded pretty much like some disgusting weird kink.

Something he was never actually interested in, never actually found of. It hit you like a train wreck that you would say too much about something so personal to him, but you couldn't control the alcohol in your blood back then.

But the way he was reacting to it, and how he was talking about it made you realize he was too mature. It would actually make you feel less heavy from how you used to.

"Yeah. Gosh, that was like almost 8 years ago. I didn't tell many people about it. I went to therapy for a long time, but I guess that's something we don't get over with", you gave him a sick smile.

He was still rubbing your fingers with his thumb, just listening to you.

"You didn't seem like it. But I wasn't going to mention it to anyone either way. I just thought it would be decent if I let you know", Harrington was being such a gentleman to you and it melted you.

"Where have you been all my life, Steve?", you ask jokingly, but it catches him off guard as he smiles, shy.

"If you knew me back then, you'd see how much of a dick I was. Never to the point of being disgusting like that. But in more of a douchebag way", he responded and you both laughed.

He gave you a ride to work and it felt like the entire drive was filled with some embarrassment. It was too much of intimacy in such a short period of time there.

"Call me if you need a hero", he said before you left the car, giving you a smirk.

♥️♥️♥️♥️

You spent the entire week thinking about what in the holy hell made you remember that terrible, disgraceful day. It had distracted you most of the time, because you surely weren't intimate like that with Steve.

Maybe it was a sign of some sort of kind, maybe it was just because you can't keep your mouth shut when you drink too much. Either way, not remembering what you said gave you comfort. Because you didn't want to remember that.

You didn't want to replay it in your head again, how that day the guy you used to like made you feel like you were a playdoll. Worse than that, you didn't have a voice to stand out, so you let that happen.

It struck you how many guys you've met after that and, although they were really charming, polite and caring like Steve is, they couldn't get through you. They couldn't make themselves cross the other line, you never let them.

Maybe you shouldn't be thinking about how much you wanted to be taken care of by Harrington at that moment, but you were. You didn't give a shit if he wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, but you liked the idea.

You liked to think that, unlike you were thinking, he would definitely accept it and give you some comfort. Hell, even Eddie would, but you weren't thinking about him.

If you were to honestly give yourself to someone, maybe he was the better choice after all.

He made sure to check on you the past days, which made you feel soft for him. You laughed at your own thoughts. You never even looked at Steve that way.

When Friday came, you invited him over to have dinner and watch a movie. You were trying to introduce him to different genres and you were about to watch Lord of the Rings.

You lost track of time because you weren't actually paying any attention to the TV anymore, but you were also trying not to be too obvious.

"So that's Mordor Eddie was talking about. I had no idea he was-", Harrington cut himself as he caught you looking at him, you didn't have time to deviate. "What?", he chuckled.

"What, what?", you retorted, trying to look naive.

"Do I have something on my face?", Steve tried not to blush, because he noticed you WERE staring at him, like, deadly.

"Not that I can see". You were obviously not responding well to this. He moved his torso to face you and you started to burn.

"What happened?".

"What, can I not look?", you tried to be defensive and he smiled.

"Yeah, no, you're just looking too much", he was not cooperating. He didn't have any intention to either way. "Do you like the view at least?".

That caught you off guard and your face went as red as it could. You flushed so hard, you didn't have time to digest when he grabbed your chin.

"There's something that really gets me. It's how you always easily blush at things", he pointed out and your face started to burn. "Not that I look intensely like you do, but I notice it".

"Where are you getting at?", you question as you miscalculate his route and stares at him facing you only a few inches.

"Can I?", he whispered as he got closer to your mouth. Your entire body was now on fire and you felt your hands sweating. Holy mother of God, what is that?

Your buzzing ears didn't let you hear yourself when you agreed, but the way he tasted like beer left you lightheaded for the first few seconds. His cold tongue from the liquid explored yours and you shivered under his touch.

The hand that was once on your chin now rested against your cheek, as his other one grabbed your neck. He was definitely going to feel your skin shiver, but what the hell could you do?

Your mouths were in sync as you deepened the kiss and you couldn't express how you were feeling inside. It was obviously something you needed, mostly because you haven't kissed in a while. You just couldn't open yourself with ease for anyone.

Steve was soft, he would grasp your tongue between his teeth and roll his tongue around yours with tenderness. His cologne was beyond strong and it got stuck in your nostrils, making you crave for his taste even more.

He didn't want to rush you into anything, considering he knew your past, he didn't feel like he wanted to make you do anything unless you wanted to. But you really wanted to. You were craving for it and your core made sure you wanted it.

You started crawling above his body and sat with your legs across his, still moving your lips now feverishly. Harrington only stopped it halfway because he was surprised with your attitude.

"Are you sure?", he asked, his hands now both holding your waist. His soft brown eyes facing you with both desire and kindness. You nodded and he deepened the kiss once again.

You were the first to make him take his shirt off, still impressing you how his hairy chest was some piece of heaven. Not only did he notice you were eating him with your eyes, but he made sure to get rid of your own shirt.

The good thing about you sitting on his lap is that it was harder for him to get a boner, because you were pressing against his member.

He didn't have time to think of anything else before you snapped your lips against his again.

Steve was panting, his husky voice mumbling shy groans as you craved for each other. This time he rolled you around the floor, where your blankets were, and used his hands to travel against your warm body.

The heat between you grew alarming when you stared at his hard crotch, pressed against his jeans, begging to be loosen asap.

You grabbed it without warning and you heard him gasp against your mouth, your core flinching at his sounds.

Your soft but out of rhythm rubbing made him thrust against your hand, he was starting to lose his mind, and you noticed you didn't want this to wait any longer. You just needed to feel him, you needed to feel his warmth.

He gently stripped your sweatpants off and gave you sweet kisses on your inner thighs, across your stomach, your chest, until he reached your mouth.

You were out of breath just by the feel of his lips on you. He took his jeans off and gave you a dirty smile when he caught you looking, your cheeks were red by the sight of his cock.

You gave him a handjob before he could take his boxer off, he gasped for air as he just enjoyed your touch against his throbbing arousal, rubbing his hands against his hair.

The way he reacted to you made you feel like you were deserving, it made you feel like you were actually meaning something in this moment.

Steve wasn't a sex addict, he really enjoyed fucking, but this time with you was overwhelming, it was heart warming.

He leaned over to take your bra off and kissed you all over, nibbling on your skin as he threw the fabric away, which made you laugh. Steve was trying to make you feel comfortable, he needed to make sure you felt like you could trust him and not be afraid of him.

He didn't know your limits, he wasn't sure if he could eat your nipples like he wanted to, so he just kindly sucked on each and heard you deflate your lungs with all the air.

You arched your back when his cock rubbed against your core, both of you trying not to make obscene sounds.

"God, Steve", once again you melted down at his touch and he hummed. His tongue lingering on your nipples as he squeezed your tight harshly, his short nails digging on your skin.

When you couldn't take it anymore, you took your lingerie off while watching him do the same with his underwear after getting his wallet. Your heart fluttered at his action, it was adorable to see him show it off for you.

"Just to make sure", he stated as he started to wrap himself up. Harrington leaned on you again, placing his hard cock over your cunt, slightly spreading your slit.

"Are you okay with this?", he asked. You weren't really processing everything clearly and, again, you just nodded. "I'm not going hard on you", he warned you.

His tip gently entered your walls as you hissed against his ear. Steve didn't even want to hold back his moan as he dug into you fully. He just wasn't one to actually surpress his emotions and his vocals made sure of it.

The entire room was filled with soft noises and moans as he thrusted you kindly. Steve wanted to enjoy every inch of your core, but the pleasure of doing it so slowly actually made you flinch against him.

He let out a lout groan and it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't remember the last time it was so delish, because you didn't want to remember the last time you actually had proper sex. It was probably just some banging out of your own frustration.

It was different with him, though. Because now that he knew about your trauma, he wouldn't want to do it roughly, he wanted you to remember his touch.

You felt like you were losing your mind with the sharp breath and the panting, your sweat mixing with his, the sound of skin on skin loudly echoing in the room.

Harrington started pounding on you faster but still wanted you to feel every inch of his cock, your walls clenching every time he would hit a spot with his tip.

He wrapped one of his hands arond yours as he kissed you, muffling his hums.

Your sloppy kisses became feral as his thrusting started to deepen and race even more. You felt your body was ready for the impact, because his skin was deliciously rubbing against your clit, your hips involuntarily thrusting against his.

"Yes, Steve", you whispered close to his ear and he hissed against your warm and sweaty skin. He held one of your thigs around his arm as he pounded on you harder.

His face was flushed, his hair was messy and sweat was dripping from his chest.

The way you looked at him was triggering enough for you to reach your release. It was ten times better than you expected, it was a out of breath climax you've never experienced before.

You buried your nails against his arm and he flinched with your touch.

"God, I'm coming", he groaned as he started to gush against himself inside you. You were both panting as Harrignton kept his cock inside of you, leaning against you just to give you a comfort kiss.

Your kiss was now passionate, slow and gentle. He rested his hands on your waist while exploring your mouth. You could still feel your cunt throbbing and you were feeling too tired from the way you were breathing.

You noticed how good his shampoo smelled and decided you could live like this forever. If you could picture a moment like that before it even happened, you wouldn't believe it would be so great like it was.

He pecked your lips before leaving your body and got rid of the protection. Before leaving, he made sure he covered your body with one of the blankets, making you smile with the action.

He only dressed his underwear and sat next to you after you put on his shirt. It's become your thing now, just wear his clothes whenever they're thrown around. He stared at you for a moment and you chuckled.

"You said it looked good on me", he nodded. Steve wrapped your neck around his arm, resting your head on his shoulder before rewinding the movie so you could actually watch it.

When you invited him over, you weren't sure he would want the same thing as you. But it turns out that, even if he didn't, now he would want more of that. And not because he feels sorry for you, but because he has a soft spot for you.

[storiesforallfandoms]

bad idea, right? ~ joseph quinn

word count: 2789

request?: no

description: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?

pairings: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

semi based on this song

We didn't intend on reconnecting. It was a complete accident. A coincidence, even. We were both out with our friends at the same bar. It had been months since we broke up, and it was one of my first outings post-break up. Despite the fact that the relationship hadn't ended poorly, it was still hard to process. I spent a lot of nights crying to rom-coms with my friends afterwards.

I didn't expect to see him there. Actually, for once, I had fully forgotten that Joseph even existed. I was just excited to be out for the night, to have a good time with my friends.

It wasn't even me who saw him first. One of my friends, Fiona, who is incredibly sweet but also incredibly lightweight, gasped and leaned towards me to ask, "Isn't that Joseph?!"

Lynn, my best friend, elbowed Fiona as I whipped around to see where she had been looking. As she said, there he was - the beautiful, chocolate button eyed man I had been in love with for so long. He hadn't seen me yet. He was at the bar with a few of his friends, sat around and chatting. My heart started to pound as I turned back to my friends.

"Do you want to leave?" Lynn asked.

"No," I said. "I let him keep me from having fun for long enough. I'll just...avoid him as much as I can. Maybe he'll do the same if he sees me."

Lynn gave me a skeptical look, but decided to respect my wishes.

For the most part, the plan was a success. The girls and I moved to the dance floor once we all had enough drinks in us, and Joseph became a distant after thought.

That was, until I stumbled off the dance floor to get myself some water. I could tell that the alcohol was starting to get to me in a way that I would regret in the morning if I didn't try to sober up a little bit. I pushed through the crowd at the bar and asked the bartender for an ice water. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings as I waited, until I heard a familiar voice say, "(Y/N)?"

That voice sobered me up better than any water could.

I turned to see Joseph stood basically right next to me. He looked as shocked as I felt. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Luckily, the bartender gave me my water, so I used that as an excuse to try and get away.

"Wait!" Joseph said, reaching out to grab hold of my arm. He quickly let go just as soon as he grabbed me. "Sorry. I just...I didn't expect to see you."

"I didn't expect to see you, either," I said.

"Are you...here with anyone?"

I knew what his question meant, and I was a little surprised to hear him ask. "Just my friends. Lynn and the girls."

Is that relief I see on his face?"

"I'm here with the guys," he said, gesturing over his shoulder towards his friends. "I just got home from filming, they wanted to celebrate me being back."

"Aren't you tired from being away filming for so long?"

Joseph sighed, as if me asking him that lifted a weight off of his chest. "I'm so tired. I had such a long flight, too, but the lads wanted to go out right away because they're all busy the next few days."

"How long are you in town for?"

"Indefinitely. I have nothing else lined up right now until I have to do promo for A Quiet Place: Day One."

Why did I ask that? He's going to think I want to see him while he's home. I can't see him. We're broken up, I've mourned this relationship and let it go.

But have I? If I had, why did I ask him how long he's in town for? Why am I still here talking to him when I'm sure he would let me walk away if I tried to.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"It's good to see you, too," I said. I was surprised to find that I meant it, too.

We both stood in silence for a moment. I knew I should walk away, just end this whole interaction and go out separate ways. But my feet just wouldn't move. I just stood there, looking at him, every good memory I had from our year long relationship running through my mind. Despite my attempts to try to move on from our relationship the last few months, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to pull him in and kiss him.

"Can we meet up while I'm home?" he asked. "Just...talk about things?"

Bad idea! Do not say yes!

"Yeah, okay," I responded.

Stupid!

His eyes lit up. "Okay. Um, do you have the same phone number?"

I nodded, unable to form the one word response. He still had my phone number? I thought he would've deleted it, considering he was the one who ended our relationship. I still had his, but only due to the fact that I had memorized it. Lynn deleted his number from my phone, but I never told her I had added it back in about a week later after a particularly hard night.

"I'll text you tomorrow, yeah?"

I nodded again. He smiled and reached out as if he were going to hug me. He hesitated, so I closed gap instead, grateful for the contact.

I thought he wouldn't remember, so I didn't bring it up to my friends. I didn't even tell them that I had been talking to him. I figured it was just one time, one night of momentary happiness, before I fell back into the sea of despair over my ended relationship.

So, imagine my surprise when I got a text message the next morning that read, "hey, i understand if you changed your mind, but that offer to meet up is still open."

As you can probably imagine, Lynn wasn't happy when I told her.

"You what?!"

I winced. "I didn't think he'd remember! It was late enough into the night that I figured he was a few drinks deep, and by the morning he wouldn't remember even seeing me."

"So you're not actually going to see him, right?"

I looked down at my lap, unable to look her in the eye.

Lynn groaned, "(Y/N)..."

"I know, I know. It's a bad idea to go."

"It's a terrible idea! You're still trying to get over your breakup. Going to meet up with him is just going to open old wounds."

She was right, and I hated that she was right. I had this sliver of hope that maybe meeting up with Joseph would result in us rekindling our relationship, but I knew that was unlikely. Joseph had broken up with me months ago because of how quickly his career had suddenly taken off after Stranger Things. It was like he went from a low profile actor to one of the most sought after actors. First it was Hoard, which was filmed right after Stranger Things. Then he was cast in A Quiet Place: Day One, which was an insanely big deal. And then right after that was Gladiator 2, an even bigger deal.

Between filming and press tours, I knew I wasn't going to see Joseph very often. That revelation hurt, but I knew he was happy, and if he was happy then I was happy. I would push through the long nights of missing him, the mornings waking up and wishing he was in bed next to me, the lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach. All of it was worth it to see him thrive.

But, Joseph didn't see things the same way, apparently. Because, just before he left to film A Quiet Place: Day One, he sat me down and told me he thought it would be best for me if we broke up.

"I don't want you to always be waiting for me," he had said. "You deserve to be happy with someone who will always be around and can give you everything you want. And, with the way my career is going right now, I don't think I can be that person for you."

As much as I wanted this meeting to end with us getting back together, I knew it was highly unlikely that Joseph would've changed his mind. It had only been months, and he still had so much on his plate. Just because he was home now until he had to leave and do more promo didn't mean he suddenly was no longer busy.

Lynn was right, I shouldn't go to the meeting. It was a bad idea. But, at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to cancel it.

So, that's how I found myself in the coffee shop where Joseph and I had our first date, waiting for him to show up. I wondered if he had intentionally picked this place for us to meet, or if it had been a coincidence.

I wasn't sure which option would hurt less.

I looked up as the bell over the front door chimed, and the familiar face of the love of my life looked around the room. When his eyes landed on me, he smiled and made his way over to where I was sitting.

"Hey," he said as he slid into the booth across from me. "You're early."

"I wanted to make sure I got us a spot to sit. I expected it to be busier here today."

It was a Sunday afternoon, which I figured would be prime time for a coffee shop to be busy. Besides Joseph and I, there was only one other person in the place - someone who was typing away at a laptop a few tables over.

"I got you a coffee," I told him as I slid the cup towards him. "Your usual."

He beamed at me. "You remembered."

"It hasn't been that long since I was making you your usual," I reminded him.

He nodded and looked down at the cup in front of him. An awkward tension filled the air. I wondered if what I said was wrong. Should I have brought up our relationship? Were we going to pretend we hadn't dated for a year? That we hadn't talked about marriage and planning our futures together in that year?

"There's so much I wish I could take back," Joseph said, finally. "I wish I hadn't...I wish I hadn't been so stupid all those months ago."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He sighed, the air from his mouth disrupting the steady flow of steam coming from his coffee. "I thought I was doing right by you by ending our relationship before my career got so hectic. I thought...I thought it would've been better for you if you could be with somebody who didn't have to be away for long periods of time and leave you by yourself."

"That wasn't really something for you to decide, though," I pointed out. "Not without talking to me first."

"I know."

"You just ended our relationship out of nowhere. I thought everything had been fine, and then suddenly..." I trailed off, feeling a lump form in my throat as I remembered that day months ago. I shook my head, trying to hold back any tears. "It was like the whole issue wasn't even up for discussion. You had decided we were over, that was it. The end."

"I know," he repeated. "And, God, do I ever feel like such a fucking idiot because of it."

"Good. You should, because you were an idiot."

I didn't say it maliciously, and luckily Joseph picked up on that. He chuckled. "Yeah, I was a massive idiot."

There was another moment of silence. I raised my coffee cup to my lips, blowing on it a little before taking a sip.

"I don't suppose there's any chance at trying to start over?"

The coffee slipped down my throat the wrong way as I reacted to his question. I quickly put the cup down and coughed up the hot liquid. The person a few tables over looked at us, interested but uncaring, before turning back to her laptop.

"Are you okay?" Joseph asked, a light chuckle in his voice.

"You couldn't have waited until after I swallowed to ask that?" I retorted.

"Okay, maybe that was bad on my part, you're right."

Once I had finally finished my coughing fit, I cleared my throat and sat up straighter to look at him.

"Are you serious?" I asked him.

"About starting over?" I nodded. "I am serious. (Y/N), you have to believe me when I say these last few months have been hell for me, too. I missed hearing your voice every day, or seeing your texts come in. When I got word that I was coming home for an indefinite period of time, I almost called you to tell you on instinct. I made the biggest mistake by breaking up with you. I know that will never go away and it will likely always be something that hangs over us, but I would do anything to prove to you how much I do still love you."

I was so sure I was dreaming. There was no way this was real. This was exactly what I had wanted to happen, so surely it must've been a dream, right?

But the burning in my chest from swallowing hot coffee the wrong way told me I wasn't dreaming. Joseph was actually here, sat across from me and looking at me with those big brown eyes that I loved so much, asking me if we could try to start over in our relationship. Obviously, I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him and tell him that of course I wanted to get back together with him. This was all I had wanted for months since we broke up. But, the more rational part of me (the part that sounded like Lynn, actually) told me not to go there just yet.

"You really hurt me, Joseph," I reminded him.

"I know I did. I know I'm sorry isn't enough, but I am so sorry for doing what I did to you."

"If we are giving this relationship another shot, then you have to promise me that you will talk to me about this stuff before you make big decisions like that. I understand that you were trying to think of me in that moment, but if you had talked to me before deciding to just break up with me, I would've told you that I wanted to be with you even if I don't get to see you for long periods of time. I was so happy for you to be getting those roles, Joe. I was excited to hear the stories from sets and to get to watch you grow. The feeling of loneliness was a very small price to pay if it meant getting to see you be happy."

He looked away from me again. "I guess...I didn't really think of it that way."

"Because you were being an idiot."

He smiled. "Yeah, I was."

"A colossal idiot."

"A mega idiot."

"A mega, colossal idiot."

We both laughed then. Joseph's hand started to reach out towards me, but then he hesitated. I reached out the rest of the way and intertwined my fingers with his.

"Will you give me another shot, (Y/N)?" he asked again. "I promise I will never be such a mega, colossal idiot again."

I nodded. "Of course I'll give you another shot."

His entire face lit up with happiness. He squeezed my hand before tugging on it, pulling me a little closer as he leaned over the table to kiss me. It was only a quick peck, like he was testing the waters, but it was all I needed. It was what I had been wanting for so long now, just to feel his lips against mine again.

When he sat back, his hand still in mind, I gave it another squeeze and asked, "Are you allowed to tell me any stories from A Quiet Place? Or is it all top secret, hush hush?"

He smiled. "You know I'd tell you anything, even if it was top secret."

And just like that, we fell back into a usual routine. It was as if the last few months apart had never happened. And I was more than happy to forget it had.

[moonwaterart]

______________________________________________________________

Here's another short ficlet, this time for Leshy since there isn't much Leshy love out there. He's a good little worm

______________________________________________________________

The One Who Mourns

“Leader, you seem like you’re stressed. Is something the matter?”

The leafed worm heard a familiar voice ask. Most of his followers would wait to be talked to since his loss of eyesight, but not them. This follower was always making sure he was okay. Making sure things were still being taken care of.

They’ve always been like that since they joined his sect of The Old Faith years ago. They were never afraid to ask him things or to chat. Their smile was always a welcome sight to Leshy until he lost his vision. Since then they made time to help him with menial tasks and keep things in line at the temple of his sect.

“The red crown defeated another of my high priests.” He commented. “I fear I must step in soon in order to stop them from advancing further.”

“But… what if… what if the red crown defeats you too? What will happen to us here?” He couldn’t see them anymore, but he could hear them fidget slightly as their words laced with worry.

He knew that that was a possibility. He would be using the power he had left in order to stop that lamb in their tracks, but what if he didn’t succeed? What would happen to his other followers?

“That’s… something I’ve thought about… yes…” he turned his head downward towards the approximate place he could feel their presence, crouching in order to at least try to be smaller in order to comfort his loyal follower. “If that were to happen, I would want you to take care of this place. Don’t allow my name to die with my body and soul. You are my most loyal follower… and what I’m going to do… I would never want you to suffer. So please… my most loyal… promise me that if it comes down to it, you will continue to be loyal even after I am gone.”

There was a pause, soon followed by a choked back sob. “You sound… so absolute in your words.”

Leshy let out a soundless sigh and extended a hand carefully towards them. He let it hover before a smaller pair of hands took it in their own and brought it closer to themselves, pressing their forehead to his palm “but if that’s what you request… I’ll follow your request faithfully.”

A pang of sadness struck the bishop. The possibility of never talking again felt worse than anything he had faced up to that point. They never realized it up to that point, but their most loyal follower being upset by his words yet still promising to follow them hurt him as badly as when he lost his eyesight. He could feel the sting of ichor around what used to be his eyes. He hadn't been able to cry for years yet here he was, upset that they were upset.

His siblings always said he was weaker than themselves when it came to emotional connection, yet that’s why people followed him. He was willing to be vulnerable around his followers before they lost their brother to greed and power. He was always the bishop getting into trickery and prankster trouble. Always fun loving and full of joy. Yet as he felt their sobs against his palm, it dawned on him how much he had changed.

“My most loyal follower… Please don’t cry. There’s no need for such sadness while I’m still around.” He carefully moved his hand to wipe a tear with his thumb. “How about we take some time to enjoy the time we have? You can show me around the new additions to the temple or maybe you would like to go gather flowers from the woods beyond? They’re in full bloom this time of year, are they not?”

He took to bringing them close before starting to walk again. “Those who mourn early miss out on remembering the good of the past and present as they fear for the future and probable outcomes. When the time comes for you to pass on you would rather be celebrated for your accomplishments, yes?”

“W-well yes.. but-“

“Then, my most loyal follower, let’s celebrate what time is left. Mourning has its place, but that is neither here nor there and definitely not the time for that. Until it is time for me to depart, let us take the time to celebrate, the stress will disappear, I promise.”

Their follower was silent, but nodded, wiping more tears away. “I… I suppose so. How about I tell you about those new temple additions?”

“I would want nothing more at the moment.”

—

“The Red Crown comes for the chain I guard.” Leshy declared to the followers that gathered. “In order to stop them I must use every fragment of power I have left. In order to access that power, a great sacrifice must take place. A life in exchange for power. A life in the name of justice and our faith.”

The followers that gathered started to offer themselves to him as help with his showdown against the lamb who represented The Chained One. Tents were being emptied and giving their belongings to followers staying behind. As they did that, a hand tugged at Leshy’s robe which made him turn his attention to whomever did that. “What do you need? Now isn’t the time to-”

“Great Leader… I have a departing gift for you.” At their words his demeanor softened.

“Of course… I apologize for my tone. What is it, my most loyal follower?”

“Let me see your hand, just real quick.”

Leshy complied, extending a hand to receive what he thought would be a trinket or maybe something they wanted him to feel; instead something was wrapped around his wrist and secured. “It’s not much, but I hope you keep it with you to know I’ll be here praying for your safe return.”

Their words stung him, but he knew they meant well. They’ve talked before about this. They know what to do if he did not return. The most inevitable possibility and one he wished it didn’t come down to. He felt the bracelet with his other hand, the flowers and grass chained together perfectly. “Then I will try not to keep you waiting.”

[winderlylandchime]

(1/2)The man came inside after a cigarette break, jumped right into 2x14, saw Justin dancing on the bar, paused the episode and went outside for another smoke. So i think he is handling it well. He is now back and his immediate reaction is ‘THIS IS BULLSHIT! Why are they making him do this, i know its his own doing BUT COME ON.. OH SO THEY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED? My dudes, my bros, my mens..why aren’t we throwing punches yet?..oh Brian is pissed off! Why doesnt he say something? what is that freak of a fuck giving him? JUSTIN DONT TAKE ANY DRUGS FROM HIM’ *pauses the tv on Brian* ‘see the problem is that he looks very pretty when he is in a bad mood’ *throws his hands up in the air* ‘PICKLE GUY!!!!!!!! Oh pickle guy and Emy are going on a world trip!! I can’t wait! Theyre gonna have so much fun…oh she’s still being a bitch to Ben? Man fuck her, i thought she was better with him?’…’oh Brian knows about his classes! I swear i am totally normal about this! But like, i didnt even know my own classes but Brian knows Justins? Oh Brian is angry.. good for him! I like this! I mean I don’t like the Justin part but i do like Brian being all for his education and shit. That’s nice! I want more of that but less of that other shit.’ ‘I thought we wrapped up with cop bullshit? Why the hell is he here? Yeah, what are you doing her- SAY WHAT NOW? HE ASKED WHAT NOW? exactly debbie! Tell him! WE *points to her and himself* do not date or fuck cops!’ He high fived debbie on tv bc he’s happy she turned doen the cop..’brian actually showed up for Emmetts going away at work? I LOVE EMY AND BRI BRI!!! Oh for fucks sake justin! Just take the fucking money! You arent doing a very good job at looking out for yourself right now, that man is an evil evil little freak! And Brian clearly knows it!’ And the scene with Vic and Debbie is up. ‘exactly Debbie, he is a homophobe!! VIC MY BOY WHAT? HE DIDNT MAKE A TINY JOKE HE MADE A BAD JOKE! He doesnt need enlightening, what he needs is my foot so far up his ass his own mom can feel it! Why is vic being dumb? At least debbie knows he’s a homophobe. VIC STOP THIS MADNESS!’ ‘Oh look Justin remembered he has a school! Its Brian! I like this, i would like more of them hanging out. Justin doing his homework and Brian being with him. AFTER HOURS PARTY?! Absolutely not! Oh Brian knows this is bad news. Brian please stop this madness! *pauses tv on Justin* dude, me and Brian are trying so hard to get to you and you won’t listen to either one of us and honestly, it’s not cute!’ And now he is groaning loudly because Debbie is going on a date. ‘The problem i have is, this would be a cute moment if he wasn’t a…you know *said in a very disapproving way* a cop. OH THE FUCKING IRONY OF MIKE AND OH MY FUCKING GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SHE IS A HYPOCRITE OF A WHOLE NEW LEVEL. Oh fuck her times 70.’ And now the plane scene is up and i am not ready ‘AHHH PICKLE GUY AND EMY ARE ON A TRIP!! I need them to give me a cute little montage of them having cute moments all over the world! Like some italian music that’s upbeat and just random snapshots of them! YES I WANT THAT! Ohhhh they are gonna get down and dirty in the bathroom!! Gross but have fun babies, you deserve it!’ He is currently scoffing at everything Carl says ‘Debbie.. come on. You cant even look at Ben and say hi to him and you see nothing wrong with Car- oh thats why she said into him, theyre the same. Assholes!’ I am not ready for whats about to happen, i always get sad but i am not ready for this. ‘Oh look at them going at it! Hell yeah Pickle Guy and Emy live your best lif-*he is genuinely on the verge of tears* pickle guy?..pickle..? Is he. noooooooooooo PICKLE GUY! *he is actually crying at this point* PICKLE GUY NO! What about the world trip! And italy! And cute montage! Pickle’ He is genuinely sad and honestly same.

OH POOR BROTHER ANON, mourning the loss of Pickle Man (do not let him eat a pickle in his memory).

Your brother is right - We Do Not Fuck Cops in this house. ACAB. He’s going to be very disappointed in Debbie (again)

I love that he and Brian are now a team trying to get Justin to listen to reason.

Okay… let’s get to the next one because a couple of us have been wondering how Brother Anon was going to respond to Justin topping…

[raw-eggy]

Just a personal depressing ramble, nothing fun here, will ruin your mood if you finish reading so don't do it lol

It's weird to me once I've realised, since I know 1. I'm a hopeless romantic 2. I tend/try to give almost all of me whenever I'm in a relationship 3. I've always been clingy+attached+needy in most, if not all of my past relationships but:

I've been in first/puppy love, infatuation mixed with hormones and some other shi, love out of longterm companionship and familiarity, mind fogging infatuation again + horniness after peacefully parting with the longterm relationship, then now where it's just two people who are interested/who like each other but are still trying things out with a special open agreement on my side due to lack on his side that leads to me having another special precious someone but it's complicated too-

What I'm trying to say is, I don't think I've ever gotten the chance yet to fall in love, like really in love with someone and that makes me sad. It's no one's fault tbh, it's either because I never had the chance to get to know them better before it came to an end or reality problems like they're in school/have work so we can't spend enough time together or we were both just mentally unwell or just because my self aware mind was holding me back just because she knew I wouldn't receive the amount of feelings I needed to feel wholely loved and it would have just brought me pain rather than the decently happy memories and experiences I have now-

Ah,,,,, so it's because I've never had or felt like someone actually was in love with me? That's why she didn't let me? Well that realization while typing whatever came to mind just made me cry a bit. And the fact that 60% (remaining 40% is my optimistic side taking control and just hoping for a chance) of me believe I probably won't find someone who will be in love with me like I need because I'm just so average and not fucking enough just makes me cry more and I hate it.

I know I'm good, I'm great, I'm not bad, I'll be an above average gf to any lucky guy with a good eye; I appreciate/am grateful for any feelings towards me lots and will love you back the same amount or more but why? Why can't anyone be interested in me enough to want to learn all of me? Even if it takes a lifetime. And then be in love with everything of me that you've found out? Why can't anyone only want me and be sure that no one else can compare and never ever want to let go of me? Try your best with me even when reality is being an ass? Why can't someone just be unconditionally in love with me all because it's me? Why? why? why why why

I want to be fully trusting hopelessly in love with someone, but I can't as long as I feel like there's any risks or possibilities of me getting hurt or it not working, does that mean I'll never get to experience being mindlessly in love? It's a good thing ig that I have a defense mechanism in place,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I'll still be insecure and have bad feels and get hurt sometimes cause I'm a crybaby but at least I won't feel anything lasting haha~ tho then that makes me worried if there's something wrong with me cause after every relationship I just cried and mourned a lil then was totally fine-

(Okay that was a big spiral LMAO imma just leave this here so I can clear it out of my head and not revisit those feelings again) (also in no way does this post means I'm not happy with what I have right now, everything's reasonably balanced and it's perfectly fulfilling for what I need right now, I like both my darling and sweetheart a lot and wouldn't trade them for anyone else.)

[tom-whore-dleston]

My Immortal

Pairing: Xu Wenwu x immortal!fem!reader

Genre: angst with very minimal fluff

Warnings: Shang-Chi spoilers!!!, major character death, a lot of sadness, yearning, heartbreak, betrayal?, unrequited love?, mentions of the blip (bc that shit was traumatizing idk bout you), you’ll probs cry

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. If any of these warnings trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please do not read!*

Summary: You lived so many lifetimes and gained so much power and knowledge. How was it possible that another man with power and immortality could make you crumble the way you did?

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: Well, here it is...I have finished my first angst after a million years 😅 I know what y'all thinking...yes this is inspired by My Immortal by Evanescence 🥲 song is sad as hell but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t good ass inspo 🤘🏽 if I make y’all cry I am sorry, but also not sorry bc this was a fun one to write and my intent was to make y’all cry 🤭 Thank you my love @wint3r-h3art for beta reading it and for your words of encouragement while writing it 🥰🥰🥰 as you can see, the graphic has a Spotify playlist that y’all can listen and cry to while reading along 😉

It hurt like hell. Maybe a little more than hell. Your immortality has given you the privilege of never knowing hell or even heaven, but you figured that this is what it would feel like. You knew you were torturing yourself by watching Wenwu get married and have a family from afar. Yet, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave. As angry as you were with him, you still wondered how he was doing after all these years.

You discovered that before marrying Ying Li, he gave up the ten rings and the power that came with it. It should have been you that he sacrificed the rings for. It should have been you that he married and started a family with. You had everything that Ying Li had: beauty, grace, power, and immortality. What was different? Why did he choose her? It made your brain spin pondering all these thoughts.

You felt stupid for envying Ying Li. After all, you were the one that left Wenwu when his power became too great. It was the hardest thing you did, but you didn’t want a lover that would kill just for you. The night you left, you ran away to a secluded part of the mountains and created a comfortable, yet isolated space for you to live. Using your magic, you made sure that it would be difficult for anyone, especially Wenwu, to see with the naked eye. For a while, you thought that leaving him and distancing yourself would make him give up the rings for you.

How naive of you.

In fact, Wenwu grew stronger and more powerful after you left him. Villages and countries were conquered, and blood was spilt at his hands. Your stomach twisted in horror, knowing how many innocent lives were lost because of him. For years, you blamed yourself for the kind of man he has become. You spent many nights sobbing for the man he once was before letting the ten rings consume him. You yearned for the man who wiped away your tears, fought off your fears and held your hand throughout the years.

You lived so many lifetimes and gained so much power and knowledge. How was it possible that another man with power and immortality could make you crumble the way you did? Perhaps Wenwu was your vice as the ten rings were his.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Another twenty something years have passed since you last watched Wenwu from afar. Since then, Ying Li died at the expense of Wenwu’s past actions. As much as you envied her, you still mourned for her. Your heart ached the way Wenwu did, something that he barely did when you left him.

As a result of her loss, he turned towards the rings again. You weren’t disappointed in him, but you weren’t surprised either. Instead of allowing himself to grieve, Wenwu coped with power and violence.

You even noticed that his children weren’t present. At the time, you had assumed they fell victim to the blip of Thanos. Because of the blip, Wenwu really didn’t have much to do anyway. He spent most of that time in his chambers reminiscing on the past, including the one that involved you.

The midnight moon glistened in the sky, the moonlight cascading over his form as he stepped out of his chambers. Your heart beat faster as he exited the premises and started inching towards you. Even with an invisibility spell casted over you, you still found yourself hiding behind a cherry blossom tree. It was awfully cowardly of you to hide from a man you have been in love with for years. Then again, you didn’t know how much has changed over the years, so your safest bet was to keep your guard up.

Literally.

Wenwu paused under the newly bloomed blossoms. One fell from the tree and coincidentally in his hand. He peered down at the pink petals before smirking to himself.

“You can stop hiding, dear,” Wenwu called out cooly, facing the tree. “I know it’s you.” A soft smile painted his face. “In fact, I’ve always known it was you behind this tree.”

You huffed a defeated breath before undoing your invisibility spell and walking out from behind the tree. As much as you tried resisting, your body reeled you closer towards him like a fish on a hook. You stopped once you were able to look up at his tall stature.

“Hello there, dearest,” Wenwu greeted you warmly. You attempted to detect any signs of danger, but you were only met with the same loving face you had left behind years ago. His hard hand gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before putting the cherry blossom in its place. His sweet touches, along with calling you by the pet name you used to love caused your knees to liquify. Your lips curve into a grin. Even Wenwu forgot how long it has been since he last touched someone with such affection.

After all the tenderness, you could only bring yourself to timidly stammer, “H-hi, uhh, Wenwu.” You glanced down at the grass beneath your feet and your cheeks burned despite the chill of the night. While looking down, you noticed the moonlight shining against the rings that rested on his strong forearms.

“Walk with me, dear,” Wenwu requested before turning on his heels. You followed in his footsteps as he took you around the Ten Rings complex. Even though you have secretly visited the complex numerous times, walking around this time around was a different kind of experience. No Ten Rings fighters, no training, no blood or sweat spilled. Just you and Wenwu basking in the silence.

You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on the rings. Suddenly, Wenwu halted in his steps, turning to face you. He was awfully close to you, leaving just enough room for you to breathe.

“You’re staring, dear. Tell me what’s on your mind.” His silky voice brought your attention back to reality. His hand hesitated in reaching up to touch your cheek. Part of you wished he had conjured up the courage to touch your face

“I see why you gave up the rings for her,” you finally spoke up. “She stayed with you when I didn’t.” You didn’t need to say Ying Li’s name. Wenwu knew you were referring to his late wife. It stung since he hasn’t talked about her in so long.

“You have it all wrong, dear,” Wenwu responded, shaking his head. “I let you get away. I should’ve fought for you. I loved you even when I was with her. I saw you in her and I thought that I could redeem myself after messing up with you.”

You started up at him in disbelief, a lump growing in your throat. His hand finally grazed along your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. Still processing his words, your dainty fingers reciprocated.

“Want to know something, dear?” Wenwu added. “I knew you were watching me because I would see your small footprints in the snow. Your sweet smell would linger in the air. It made me feel better knowing you were always here. I really am sorry for hurting you, but I swear on my life that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Now it was your turn to speak, “You know how much pain I felt all those years. It still haunts me to this day.” Even though it was everything you had been wanting to hear him say to you for years, you refused to give into him that easily.

“Let me start over!” His voice shook in desperation. “Let me make it up to you!” In all your years that you were with Wenwu, he never begged. You briefly wondered if he begged this way with Ying Li.

“You know I can’t do that, Wenwu.” You shook your head, tears piercing your vision. “God, I still fucking love you, but these wounds won't seem to heal. There’s too much that time can’t erase.” You yanked your hand out of his grasp, turning your back to Wenwu as the tears uncontrollably flooded from your eyes. Suddenly, Wenwu firmly but gently pushed your hands away so he could gaze into your eyes.

The rest of the world seemed hazy from your tears, yet Wenwu was the only thing that was crystal clear to you. You started experiencing deja vu from the day that you walked out on him. It was a night like this. The stars and moon painted the midnight sky and the whistling wind caused cherry blossoms to fall from the same tree you hid behind. You recalled how Wenwu simply watched you disappear into the hours of darkness, not even flinching a muscle.

Wenwu shook his head in regret. He was ashamed of himself for letting you get away and not doing anything about it. That shame formed into a single tear that fell from his eye. He wanted to spend the next ten lifetimes making up for lost time and loving you the way he should have loved you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t bring himself to say that to you. He figured he should show you instead of trying to tell you.

After what felt like an eternity, Wenwu caressed your cheek and stooped down to kiss your lips. The moment his lips connected to yours, you froze as if he had casted a spell on you. His lips were soft and sweet, just like you remembered long ago. Your arms naturally snaked around his neck to close whatever space was left between you two. Your brain and the rest of your body screamed at you to stop and pull away from him. Yet your heart betrayed your whole being by deepening the kiss, as if all those long years of heartbreak and yearning for him would vanish.

A few beats later, you and Wenwu pulled away to catch your breaths. He rested his forehead on yours in a loving manner. You closed your eyes before Wenwu reeled you back in for another longing kiss. You sensed his neediness towards you, yet he still remained gentle with you, making sure you were comfortable.

Pulling away once more, your gaze naturally fell down to his large hands. They held yours to brush his thumbs against the tops of your hands. Then, the dark purple rings came into your peripheral view. In a split second, you were snapped out of the state you were in with Wenwu.

Guilt, confusion, sadness, and pain all hit you like a lightning bolt and you found yourself beginning to cry again. You backed away fearfully, unable to control your shaking sobs. Wenwu attempted to inch closer to you but failed as you continued to repel from him. You finally stopped in your tracks and so did Wenwu. Only this time, Wenwu kept his distance from you.

“I love you Wenwu…” you sniffled, removing the cherry blossom from behind your ear. It felt like a dagger had impaled your heart as you placed the little pink flower in his palm. “But I don’t know if I can have you anymore.” Wenwu tried to interject, but you stopped him. Even though your vision was blurry, you still noticed the way his bottom lip trembled.

“Don’t follow me. Please. Just let me go.” You shed one more tear before using your powers to disappear from his sight. As you left the Ten Rings complex, you could have sworn you heard Wenwu walking the opposite direction of you, muffling his cries with his palm.

It hurt you how things came full circle. The first time you walked out on him, you secretly prayed he would run after you, but he didn’t. Second time around, you convinced yourself that you didn’t want him to come running after you, despite how badly he wanted to. Deep down, you really wanted him to follow you, but you’ll never admit it. Not that it would have mattered anyway. It was too little too late.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

About five or something years passed. The mighty Avengers reversed Thanos’ doing with the snap of one of their heroes' own fingers. The missing half of the population returned and everyone around the world continued to live their lives. In the time since you last saw Wenwu, you were traveling the world, or what was left at the time. Something you haven’t allowed yourself to do in years.

You would think that all this time for self care and time away from Wenwu would bring you peace and serenity. Yet, deep in your heart, you sensed something felt extremely off. You couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but the feeling lingered for days.

This was how you found yourself back at the Ten Rings complex. Things felt even more off the moment you arrived. The vibe didn’t feel as dark or intense as it normally feels. The more you walked around the more you realized that you didn’t recognize anyone. It finally came to your senses that the Ten Rings army was all women. Not that there was anything wrong with that. In fact, it was empowering to see so many women training and learning combat skills. But it didn’t feel like this was Wenwu’s doing.

“Excuse me, but is there anything I can help you with?” The voice sounded masculine, but it wasn’t Wenwu. You turned to find a tall, muscular man with a sharp blade for an arm. You figured it was one of Wenwu’s henchmen, sighing in relief.

“I’m...uhhh...looking for Wen-” you paused, realizing more questions would arise from the man if you addressed Wenwu by his name. Not very many people called him that, and you did not want to out yourself. The last thing you wanted was Wenwu to appear out of the shadows and you would be left alone with him. “I am looking for the leader of the Ten Rings army.”

“Ah, you must be here to talk business, I see,” the man with a razor fist replied. You couldn’t process his words fast enough before he gestured you to follow him down the hall, his giant steps vibrating against the marble floor. You weren’t sure what he meant by business, but you went along with it. It wasn’t like this man would need to know the true purpose of your visit. In your head, you decided to call this man RazorFist since you never learned his name. You figured it would be an appropriate alias considering who he worked for.

The thought of seeing Wenwu again after pushing him away five years ago made your stomach do backflips. You honestly weren’t sure what to expect when you would come face to face with him again. You could’ve easily used your invisibility to disappear and leave the premise, but you didn’t want to make RazorFist look like a fool who was talking to a ghost or a figment of his imagination. Also, you wanted to get to the root of what you sensed was so wrong.

Once you arrived at the end of the hall, RazorFist extended his arm out for you to enter the room. You thanked him with a nervous smile and slowly and timidly stepped into the room. Nothing in all your years of living would have prepared you for what you had seen.

A beautiful young woman with bobbed hair and red lips sat on Wenwu's throne in the middle of the room. She was talking affirmatively with a group of women dressed in business casual. The room grew quiet as all eyes darted towards you. Beads of sweat rolled down your face as you became the center of attention.

“Hi, can I help you?” the woman asked. Her eyes were hard but her smile was sweet. You weren’t sure if you could put your guard down with this woman.

“I’m looking for the leader of the Ten Rings,” you recited, repeating the same words you said to RazorFist.

“You’re speaking to her,” she stated in offense, standing from the throne. The other glares from the women burned into your soul, showing equal offense to your words.

You stammered, “Oh- I- Uhhh- my apologies, ma’am.” You continued to stammer, fumbling with your hands in front of you. The stares only grew stronger, causing you to crack. “I’m looking for Wenwu.” You sighed, dropping your hands to your sides. The women sitting turned their gaze towards the woman standing. To your surprise, the woman’s face softened, a mix of curiosity and somberness plastered on her beautiful features.

“Leave us!” she commanded. Like the snap of a finger, the other women scrambled to leave the room. The woman sunk back into the throne and invited you to sit in the seat next to her. You introduced yourself, awkwardly extending your hand out for her to shake.

“Xu Xialing.” She grinned, taking your hand in hers. “So how do you know my father?” You relaxed at her question, relieved that she wasn’t another lover that Wenwu had replaced you with. You pondered on the right way to phrase your response, in hopes of not exposing your history to his daughter.

“Let’s just say I am an old friend of his.” This caused Xialing to chuckle faintly.

“Interesting you say that because my father didn’t have many friends. If anything, he had more enemies.” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, noticing how she was referring to Wenwu in the past tense.

“Why are you speaking about Wenwu in the past tense?” you inquired. Xialing looked down at her feet in sadness. She cleared her throat before speaking.

“This isn’t easy for me to say,” she began, melancholy taking over her face. “There was a battle in Ta Lo, my mother’s home village. My brother and I were fighting against my father and his army.” She stopped midway to take a deep breath. “Long story short, my father fell victim to these horrible creatures called the Dwellers.”

You were silent, processing the story Xialing had just told you. Finally you spoke, “He’s dead?”

Xialing nodded, “Yes, he is. He sacrificed himself so my brother can end what my father did and destroy the Dweller. In a way, he saved my brother and I. He saved us all.” She finally shed a tear and immediately wiped it away.

Meanwhile, your heart was shattering into a million pieces, all the pieces sinking to your stomach. The tears were falling faster than you can register them coming out of your eyes. Your head spun on its axis and you felt as if you were suffocating. Xialing rushed over to you to comfort you, but it was no use. You were uncontrollably sobbing and choking on the lump on your throat. Your body went numb as Xialing held you in your arms and patted your head. This only caused you to cry and scream harder, as Xialing’s embrace only reminded you of how Wenwu once held you.

It hurt like hell. This time, you were sure it hurt more than hell.

*Thanks for reading :) Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Your responses are what keep me motivated to write. However, please do not repost or translate my work anywhere.*

[juniorgman187]

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[softholand]

pot valiant - t.h

pairing: bartender!tom x reader

summary: pot-valiant, definition; bold or courageous under the influence of alcoholic drink

warnings: drinking, swearing, smut, dom!tom

words: 4.3k

a/n: i did it!!! bartender!tom was always present in my mind and after that picture (thanks paddy!!) i couldn’t help myself ;))) i hope you guys like this and please let me know what you think <3 enjoy!!

Two weeks, three days, 5 hours, and 22 seconds. That was the time your best friend Briana gave you to mourn your last failed relationship. Once that time had passed, she broke into your house, made you take a much necessary shower, forcing you to shave and wash your hair, while she took care of the mess that was your house. Plastic food containers and cans of beer and Coca-Cola littered both the kitchen and the living room floor, making the house smell like a garbage can.

“Glad to see you’re still alive!” Briana cheered after you got out of the shower, wearing your fluffy robe. “I am but barely. Wow, what did you do to my house?” You asked, being met with a completely different scenario from the one you left.

“I just put out the trash, y/n! Something you should have done before.” Briana scolded you, making you roll your eyes. “Should have waited and put me out too, since I feel like trash!” You groaned, flopping down on your sofa.

“Hey, no, no, no! Get up, y/n! We’re going out!” Your best friend announced, before trying to make you stand. “Noooo, please, Bri! I’ll do anything you want, but that!” You pleaded, but it was of no use. “I don’t wanna hear it, y/n! I didn’t come here to clean your house, I came to take you out of here and that’s what I’m gonna do.” Briana stated, taking your hands.

“Bri, I love you, but please let me stay just a little longer, I’m not ready for the outside world yet.” You groaned, trying your best to convince your best friend. “y/n, I love you too, that’s why I’m here! I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore! Yeah, what Tyler did to you was fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life because of it.” Briana exclaimed.

“I know, Bri! I know! It’s just… hard for me to wrap my head around the fact he ditched me after all this time and that I’m single now.” You sighed, starting to feel emotional. At that, Briana pulled you closer and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in one of her best hugs. “I’m sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” Bri apologized, making you chuckle through your tears. “It’s okay, Bri! It’s not your fault, really. I’m just… a mess!” You laughed, drying your face with the robe sleeves.

“One drink. We get one drink and if you still don’t wanna stay after that, we leave. I promise!” Your friend offered, with hopeful eyes. “Fine! One drink!” You sighed, to which she squealed. “Yes! Thank you, y/n! You’re not gonna regret it! I’ve found this new club, it opened just a couple of weeks ago. You’re gonna love it!” She grinned. “Now, go put on your best outfit, we’re going out!” Briana squealed, making you laugh at her excitement.

About an hour later and after a whole lot of makeup and trying on clothes, Briana finally decided you were done with what she called: a Cinderella transformation. Of course, you laughed at her choice of words, and to irritate your friend, even more, you asked if you also should be back at midnight. She gave you the middle finger, before giving up and joining you in laughter.

After a quick cab ride, that could be done by feet, not with the heels you two were wearing though, you and Briana were at the new club she talked about. Once inside, you had to admit your best friend was right. The place looked like a mix of everything you enjoyed, the walls were coated in a beautiful shade of red, while the lounge area was filled with dark green sofas. Different from the other places you had been to, the bar on this one was positioned right in the middle, with bar stools in that same dark green velvet texture, rounding the space. The dim light that filled the space gave a mysterious/sensual vibe, something you were also a fan of.

Briana immediately dragged you to the bar, waiting patiently for one of the many bartenders. While she made her request, you took the time to scan the place, noting some artsy bits that complemented the space. “What can I get you?” A smooth masculine voice took you out of your daze, making you avert your attention to him. Right in front of you, a gorgeous boy with hazel eyes and chocolatey brown curls grinned at you, waiting for your answer. What was even the question?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You apologized, making his smile grow even more. “I asked what can I get you tonight, darling?” He asked, making you smile with the nickname. “Oh, uh… a daiquiri, please!” You finally said, not being able to avert his gaze. “Good choice! I’ll be right back, girls!” He smirked, before going to the enormous wall of beverages behind him.

Once he was out of earshot, Briana lightly kicked your bare leg, getting your attention. “Isn’t he hot?” She mouthed, making you roll your eyes. “Really, Bri? Already?” Shaking your head, you went back to looking at your surroundings. “Oh, c’mon y/n! A woman has to eat!” Briana joked, making you both burst out laughing.

Seconds later, hot guy was back, this time with two cocktail shakers in his hands. Like every bartender in the world, he made his presentation while pouring the ingredients into the containers, making sure to really flex his arms while shaking it. Not that you noticed.

With two glasses in front of you, he poured the drinks in, doing the finishing touches before serving them to you. “Two pretty drinks for two pretty ladies, enjoy!” He smirked, before going back to his business. “Oh God, he only gets better!” Briana jokingly fanned herself, making you laugh. “He’s just doing his job, Bri! How many times do you think he used that one?” You asked your friend, who rolled her eyes at you. “You’re no fun!” She groaned, putting her tongue out.

Briana was only halfway through her Cosmopolitan when one of her favorite songs started to play. She made everything in her power to make you go with her but you denied her offer, stating you were fine watching her from the bar. With her drink in her hands, she made her way into the dance floor, purposely shaking her booty at you, which made you laugh and almost choke on your barely touched drink.

“Not into dancing?” The same voice from minutes ago asked, startling you. “Oh, no! Not today, at least!” You shrugged, offering him a smile. “So, what brought you and your friend here? I’m Tom, by the way!” He asked, cleaning the surface in front of him, making the watch he wore catch the fluorescent lights of the club. “y/n! And to be honest, she dragged me here.” You told him, giving into their usual small talks. “Wanna talk about it? I’m a pretty damn good listener!” He offered you with a smile.

You took a deep breath, asking yourself if it was really a good idea to share a part of your life with a stranger, and since you weren’t going to step foot on the dance floor, you thought this was the next most reasonable thing to do. Right? “Well, I was into a two-year relationship that ended a couple of weeks ago, and apparently staying inside your house, eating takeout food, and crying over stupid romantic movies is not a very healthy thing to do, so today she went to my house and here I am.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

Once you looked at Tom, he gave you a pitiful look, to which you shrugged. “That’s not even the worst part though.” You said, the alcohol in your system already making the choices for you. “Instead of calling me or sending me a text asking to talk, you know, like a normal person, he invited me to his parents’ tenth-anniversary party and broke up with me in front of his whole family, claiming I wasn’t what he wanted in a relationship anymore.” With a raise of your glass, you finished your sad story, downing the rest of your daiquiri.

“Damn, what a dick!” Tom breathed after a couple of seconds, making you chuckle. “Oh, well! Cheers to single life, I guess…” You said, raising your now empty glass. “Need a refill?” He asked, pointing to the glass on your hands. “Please!” You huffed, before thanking him. “What will it be now?” Tom smirked, seeing your thinky face. “I don’t know, something strong.” He nodded, giving you two thumbs-ups, before going back to the wall to collect the ingredients.

Once the song ended, Briana came back to you and you two chatted until Tom came back with your drink, waiting for your approval. “It’s good! I like it! Thanks, Tom!” You smiled, locking eyes with him. “Do you want a refill too, darling?” He asked Briana, to which she said a beer would be fine. Once he was off, you felt your best friend's eyes burning a hole in your skull. “What?” You asked, impatiently. “We’re already on a name basis then?” Briana smirked, making you roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I mean, he introduced himself, what did you want me to do?” You snapped and that was enough to her smirk double in size. “Okay, girl! You sure you don’t want to go home then?” She asked you for what felt like the fifth time. “Yes, Bri! I’m good! I promise!” You assured your best friend before she once again was off to the dance floor.

You quietly took sips of your new strawberry drink, watching from afar as your friend seemed to get her eyes on a specific guy for the night. She gave you a wink, making you roll your eyes at her antics. “She seems to be enjoying herself.” You heard Tom’s voice, turning the barstool to find him looking at you. “Yeah, she always does!” You agreed, taking another sip of your drink. “So, you’re from here?” He asked, sounding interested. “Yeah, I’m a local! You?” You said, raising your brows. “Same!” He smiled, going right to the next question.

The conversation kept going for most of the night, Tom attended some clients, while you took sips of your drinks, and once he was free, he was right back at you with another round of questions. Seeing as Briana wasn’t by your side anymore, you welcomed his company, glad at least this way you wouldn’t be left alone. “Museologist? I’ve never heard that before!” He grinned, making you chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not very common. Basically what I do is investigate and preserve material cultural stuff, like paintings, sculptures or constructions and immaterial, such as traditions and folklore.” You answered and Tom couldn’t help but find adorable the way your eyes lit up while you talked.

Briana came back after a couple more songs, sitting by your side and asking Tom another beer. “So, found your prey?” You joked, making her laugh. “Actually, I did! See that blonde? With the samurai bun?” She pointed and you nodded once your eyes landed on him. “Nice, Bri!” You complemented, giving her a playful high five. “Right? And he’s so sweet and smart and funny! He even asked me if I wanted to go to his house.” She blurted, seemingly disappointed. “And?” You asked, not getting why she reacted that way. “Oh, no! I’m not leaving you. I dragged you here so I’m taking you home.” Briana exclaimed, to which you rolled your eyes. “Bri, I’m totally able to call a cab and go home by myself. I’m fine, I promise! You can go with Mr. Samurai bun if you want.” You assured her, seeing her eyes widen. “No, y/n/n! I promised you!” She protested, making you groan. “I’m fine, Bri! Go with him!” Once again, you insisted. “Are you sure?” She asked and you had to laugh at her. “I’m not a child, Bri! Now go, he’s not going to wait all night!” You teased, getting a hug and a kiss on the cheek from your friend before she was off.

“Lost your friend?” Tom asked once he was back from his bartender duties. “Yeah, it's just me now and I think I’ll actually call it a night and go home.” You told him, making him frown. “Hey, not to sound creepy or anything but are you going by yourself? Because that’s not very safe and my shift ends in like ten minutes. If you want, I can accompany you.” With hopeful eyes, the boy in front of you smiled, making your heart flutter just a tiny bit. You thought about leaving a stranger accompanied you home, you really did, but something in your gut told you it was fine, Tom was a good guy and would never do anything to harm you. So, you went with it. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You smiled and ten minutes later, you were both leaving the club, at 3:30 in the morning.

Tom offered to call a cab but seeing as your house was only a few minutes away, you asked if it was okay for him that you guys walked. He agreed and with the moon illuminating your steps, the pair of you made your way into the almost silent streets. You guys kept talking and occasionally your hands would brush on one another, which caused little butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Once in front of your apartment building, you stopped, having no idea what to do next, since you were in a relationship for the last two years.

“It was nice meeting and talking to you, Tom!” You said, opting for the easiest way out. “Yeah, the feeling is mutual, y/n!” He answered, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets. “Thank you for… listening.” You mumbled, making him chuckle. “Of course! Whenever you need!” He smiled, not moving a muscle. “I’ll see you around, then. Bye!” With a little wave of your hand, you made your way to the door, while Tom watched you from his place. “Sure! Bye, y/n!” He exclaimed, making you smile, finally entering the building.

That’s how you found yourself going back to that same club every Friday, getting a couple of drinks while talking to Tom, then being escorted home by him. You had been doing this for almost a month now and Briana was starting to get suspicious. It was Friday again and she had just called you while you finished getting ready. “So, any plans for tonight?” She asked, already predicting your answer. “Not really, just gonna get some drinks and head home.” You said while clasping your black sandals. “Tom’s gonna bring you home again?” You sighed, already knowing where this conversation was heading. “I don’t know, Bri! If he wants to.” You looked in the mirror for the last time, before taking your bag and heading out. Once Briana finally hung up, you threw your phone into your purse, getting into the cab.

The routine was the same, you got in, spotted Tom, sat in one of the many barstools, and waited for him to approach you. “What can I get this beautiful lady today?” He joked, a smile wide on his face. Today he was wearing a simple black shirt, tight around his muscles, the watch still sat proudly on his wrist, and his curls were a little bit messier than most days. “You know you don’t have to waste your pickup lines with me, Tom.” You smiled, watching his reaction. “Okay then, what can I get this grumpy old lady today?” He smirked, making you chuckle. “A Sex On The Beach, please?!” You grinned and after a quick wink, he was off.

The rest of the night passed like magic, you didn’t even see the time pass and once you took a look at your phone, you saw that it was almost time for Tom’s shift to end, which meant it was time to head home. The chilly London air hit as soon as you stepped out of the club, making you shiver, seeing as you were only in a dress. Like the gentleman he was, Tom took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, and although you protested, saying he was going to catch a cold, he assured you he was fine with his shirt.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when the words “Do you wanna come inside?” came out of your mouth but now was definitely too late to take them back. “Oh, yeah! Sure!” Tom agreed, making you smile. The short lift ride was awkward and once you walked into your apartment, the feeling only grew. Tom stayed pretty close to the door, with both of his hands in his pockets, while you put your purse away and turned on the lights. “Welcome and sorry for the mess.” You said, going back to the living room. Tom just smiled, before saying, “You call this messy? You should see my house!” You both laughed and the tension was back in the air. “Do you want anything? Water, wine, beer?” You offered, taking off your shoes and his jacket, putting the both away. “Water would be good.” He said and you quickly made your way to the kitchen, shaking your head to try and get rid of some very intrusive thoughts.

“Thanks!” He smiled, taking the glass from your hands, while your eyes kept focused on his arm and the prominent veins and the way his shirt was almost being ripped by his bicep. “y/n? You here?” Tom’s voice brought you back, making your face grow hot with the knowledge you got caught. “Yes, sorry!” You apologized, watching as his smirk grew in size. He placed the cup on the small table by your door, before taking a couple of steps closer. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he put his hands on your hips, leaning the smallest bit in, not taking that stupid smirk off of his face.

His smell was intoxicating, the mixture of alcohol and mint was definitely making your mind clouded. “Tom…” You whispered once he was only centimeters away from you. “What is it, y/n?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your lips. “Kiss me!” You almost pleaded, his smirk the last thing you saw before his lips were crashing into yours. The feeling was new, you hadn’t kissed anyone since your ex-boyfriend and you couldn’t help but compare them. Tom’s was so much better though, his lips could be thin but they held so much power on them, his mouth worked like magic against yours, and before you knew he was pulling away, completely breathless. The pause didn’t last long though, he looked so good with his lips plumped, the tiniest of the smirks still proudly on them, you just couldn’t help yourself and launched yourself at him.

You backed him against the wall, moaning when you felt his tongue entering your mouth. Tom placed both of his hands on your ass, squeezing it before asking, “Bedroom?” Without breaking the kiss, you pointed in the direction of your room and before you knew it, he was carrying you in his arms. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his torso, before going back to his lips. He placed you on the bed, making a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way to your stomach. Once he positioned himself between your tights, he looked at you with his bright brown eyes, asking if he could take your dress off. You nodded and after a little bit of a struggle, he took the thin material out of your body, leaving you in just a pair of white underwear. “You’re so beautiful!” He whispered, going back to your lips and attacking them with kisses. “Tom, please…” You moaned, growing even more eager to feel him. “What do you want, darling?” He smirked, loving seeing you like that. “You, I want you!” With a shake on your voice, you pleaded and he finally took the clue and went to work.

After another confirmation from you, he discarded your panties, tracing his fingers through your now soaked folds. “You look amazing, y/n!” Tom breathed before going straight to your core. You let out a moan as soon as his lips touched you, making your whole body shake with pleasure. “And tastes amazing too!” He purred, focusing on his task. Your moans only grew louder when he pushed two of his slender fingers on your heat. “Fuck, Tom! Feels so good!” You blurted, not being able to control yourself. “That’s it, baby! I can feel your walls clenching around my fingers. Tell me how much do you wanna cum.” Tom whispered, making you clench even more, only by his words. “Wanna cum, Tom! Please…” You were never this talkative in bed and not once has a guy been this dominant with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it. “Cum for me, baby! Wanna hear you scream my name!” He mumbled and finally lost control. Your whole body shook with pleasure and you had to contain yourself from closing your thighs around Tom’s head.

Once you came back from your high, you opened your eyes to find Tom already looking at you, with some of your wetness still glistening on his chin. “You alright?” He asked, concern coating his words. “Yeah!” You smiled, before going back to his lips. With a quick move, you straddled him, helping him take off his shirt, letting his chest perfectly exposed for you. You lowered yourself, leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, neck, collarbones, chest, each one of his abs, and finally, his perfectly sculpted v line. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’ll be perfectly fine by just giving...” You interrupted his mumbling by attaching your lips to his, hoping it would be his answer.

With the rest of his clothes discarded, you couldn’t help but admire his body. He was perfect. Sculpted by the gods, even. After wetting your hands, you took his cock, pumping a few times before attaching your lips to it. You twirled your tongue, tasting his precum, feeling him grow harder and harder on your hands. “Holy shit, you feel so good, y/n!” His words of encouragement were enough for you to start moving your head up and down, taking his member into your mouth inch by inch, until he was bucking his hips. “Fuck! You’re bloody amazing, darling!” He praised, while making direct eye contact with you, “But if you want more, you better stop before I coat your throat with my cum.” You had to admit, his dirty talk was doing something to you.

Releasing his cock with a loud pop, you climbed on top of him, kissing his lips. “Do you have a condom?” He asked between kisses. “Bedside table, first draw.” You answered and after a loud smack on your ass, you got off of him, both of you wearing playful smiles on your faces. Tom opened the foil package and rolled the material into his member, positioning himself at your entrance. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, making sure you wanted this as much as he did. “Yes, Tom! I want you to fuck me!” You said, kissing his lips.

With both of his hands on your hips and a huge smirk on his face, he pushed himself into you, making you moan. It took you a few seconds to get used to him and once you nodded, Tom started to move, bringing another level of pleasure to your body. “Fuck! You’re so tight around me, y/n!” He whispered, biting your earlobe. “Tom, fuck me harder!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be railed by him. That seemed to take Tom by surprise but he was quick to obey your wish, thrusting harder and harder into your soaking wet core. “You look so beautiful like that, all sweaty, begging me for more!” He kept praising you, feeling how much you liked when he did.

With both of his arms by your head, he caged you, tattooing your face with kisses. “Feel so good, Tom! Please, make me cum!” You mumbled, by now barely able to form sentences. Tom was quick to obey and once his fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in it, you were gone. Toes curling, you arched your back, getting a handful of the mattress in one hand while the other scratched Tom’s back. “Fuck, y/n!” With a final thrust of his hips, Tom reached his high, moaning your name like it was the most beautiful prayer.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving a long kiss on your lips, before getting up and tossing the condom on the trash. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up, seeing as you were too tired to take a shower, and asked him if he wanted that too. He agreed and once you were decent enough, you put on clean panties and his discarded shirt, asking him to join you on the bed. Of course, he accepted, he wasn’t planning to go anywhere either so, after putting his boxers back on, he climbed on the bed with you.

You quickly doze off but right before you did, you admitted to yourself that, like most of the time, Briana was right, and going to that new club wasn’t a bad idea after all.

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @tomhollandthing @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @spideyspeaches-deactivated20221 @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @rebekkah4766 @hopelessromm @pensivepeter @geminiparkers @mrs-hollandstan @hollandcreep @uglypastels

[revirushifaa]

OK, but imagine MC dying of old age while their daughter is still super young and Lucifer doing his best as a single dad for centuries as their daughter grows from the terrible twos into the teenage rebellious streak that definitely didn't come from him (it did).

Haaah, more papa Sushifer is in order! This is already fun, so I'll give up a scenario!

Enjoy!

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

Daughter of Pride:

MC is gone. His partner is gone, and now the only thing that was left of them, was their one-year-old daughter, Lucille. While Lucifer was still a little mournful over his mate's loss, he promised to them that he would be the one raising their firstborn, it was a promise that he won't break, he did his best with the raising alone, after all he had experience with raising children.

Lucille was a demon like her father so she aged differently from her human parent so it was only natural that MC died without seeing their daughter grow up, something that torment them even to the last moment of their life. Lucifer didn't wish to remember that sad day. It had to be one of the most saddest days of his long life.

Please, MC, my dearest... stay with me

Lucifer... take good care of my little girl. Tell her that I love her... I love you too, both of you...

With that last sentence and warm smile, MC stopped living. He was so devastated that he turned himself colder around everyone... but his daughter. Lucille was the only living being left from his mate, the one who he had to protect and raise. It wasn't an easy task, normally, MC was who took care of her the major part while he was absent in business with Diavolo.

But he had promised with his heart to MC, that Lucille would be cared for and raised well. Just looking his daughter, it remembered him of MC. While she had his body form and face features, her hair and her eyes were MC's, it was like seeing his beloved in their daughter, which he took as comfort. He would nuzzle Lucille at nights and snuggled her in bed, the baby half demoness had MC's calid smile and laugh, but she had also inherited that hard attitude from Lucifer. It was a mix, of hard and soft.

"You are my pride and joy, Lucille. Never forget that, daughter mine."

What he would always murmur in her small ears as he snuggled her and cradled her. With his daughter with him, he didn't become full isolated to his room, if he had lost both MC and Lucille, then Lucifer wouldn't be sane at all. At least Lucille was safe and sound with him.

"No, Lucille. You cannot have sugar all three meals."

As the little demoness grew up, she was more hard to raise or to try to discipline. She was spoiled, that was true, and sometimes she turned out bratty.

"But I wanna sugar. SUGAR NOW!!"

"Lucille—"

"SUGAR!!!"

Sometimes her temper tantrums, gave Lucifer huge migraines and constant stress. It was when he used his major authorital tone, that he made her to stop acting up. And if that didn't work, then it was taking her privileges and sometime in the corner. He never hit her as a punishment. No. He just couldn't bring himself to do that, the demoness was only three and if he did that, he would be breaking an important promise that he had made to MC. Be fair with my little girl, Lu.

So physical discipline was a no-go with him. There were other ways that worked his way. Like when he grounded her from playing with her toys for three days. She would only study and practice her writing. No dessert as well. He had glared sternly at Beel, warning him to not be lenient when his daughter was grounded.

"That's it, young demoness. No toys or dessert for THREE days."

"But, Daddy-"

"No buts, or else I'll add another day to your grounding."

That was all to shut her savage mouth in protesting. Of course seeing her sob and cry because he was too harsh in speaking to her, always made his heart hurt. He would always tone down his voice and speak more gentler to her, explaining why he did that, and then fix the situation with offering to do a compromise, if she was well-behaved and willing to it.

As she reached into adolescense, that was a huge stress to the poor prideful father. Lucille at 16 was such a pain in the butt. Demanding and rebellious, a huge picky eater and a true brat.

"I will be clear with you, young demoness. If you give me an ounce of attitude, then your D.D.D will be confiscated for a month, you won't go out during that time and will be put on chores duty for until I see an improvement in your behavior. And you will write three thousand times I will not disrespect or disobey my father. Clear?

Lucille would huff at how strict her father had turned himself into. But she hadn't known that it was all her part to have put him that way. Lucifer was fair if she was fair, it was a cycle of giving and giving back. Lucille behaved, Lucifer rewarded her. Lucille misbehaved, then Lucifer punished her.

"Father, when did you turn like an old boring grandpa? I only want to have fun! You can't keep me as your prisoner in this boring house!"

"Lucille, I demand more respect from you. This is your father, speaking to you. And I never said that I would keep you here all the time. But first things first. Do your school work and then you can go out. Do we have a compromise?"

"Fine. We have a compromise, Dad."

Lucifer would smile a bit softly, when the young demoness was reasonable.

"That's my good, little demoness." He would end it with a kiss to the top of her hair, before departing from her and going to do his own work and the demoness would go to do her own thing as promised.

Sometimes the lying habit came to Lucille and because of her, Mammon got in many trouble when it was all her buying the latest of fashion clothes.

"How do you explain this, Mammon?"

"Hey, what have you gotten into you?! I don't buy girly stuff! Maybe you should ask Lucille!"

....

"LUCILLE!!!!"

"What?"

She would come to him with a nonchalant look, as she's wearing highly expensive clothes and from that, is when Lucifer realized that it's all his daughter and not his greedy brother.

"So it was you who spent all of our money to please your nonsense..."

"Nonsense, Dad? I am a demoness in need of good clothes and looks! What if I find some good looking human in the future? They wouldn't like a normie, like how Uncle Levi dubs it!"

Lucifer's poor head throbs with absolute pain and stress. Ugh his daughter, is again causing him to go grey at just the age that he was at currently.

"Apologize to your uncle and then go to your room and write three thousand times I will not lie and blame my uncle into buying items that I don't need. Right now. March."

"But, Dad!"

"No 'but Dad'. Now, Young demoness. Or else, I will make you write it fifteen thousand times. How is it going to be?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Mammon..."

And after her uncle acknowledged her apology, she went up to her room to do that, with a sad face, she didn't want at all to make her father disappointed today. Lucifer took notice of it, but decided to wait until she was done with the writings to talk about it.

It was several hours but she was done, and her handwriting had gotten better, it was because of the writing punishments that it got better, seeing as this was a very common punishment that her father doled out to her when she was being disobedient or a brat.

"I...I'm done..." she said in a quiet voice.

Lucifer had looked up from the papers that he was signing. He frowned softly, the demoness hadn't realized it but she had a few tears rushing down her cheeks. His firm tone from before had softened to that gentle tone, as he approached her and pulled her into his hold.

"I hope this will be enough to end your lying habit. I do not like seeing you sad, but you know I cannot let you get away with something that you have done wrong. It is okay now. You have learned and there is not reason for me to keep mad."

He had soft-spoken to her, the way that she knew that he wasn't mad or disappointed anymore. But Lucille couldn't help feeling bad either way. She in fact, never liked putting her dad mad or disappointed in her, she let the silent tears trickle down. Lucifer said nothing, his comfort was always silent and he showed it with actions rather than words. He held her in his arms, all the time that she needed.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad..."

"There's no need to apologize now, this case has been solved. Don't beat yourself too much over it, your uncle had forgiven you, I have forgotten about it. It's all okay, Lulu."

And by calling her by her special nickname that he had for her, she knew all was well. She hugged more but to show him that she actually loved him so deeply. Lucifer already knew that, he loved his daughter with all his life, it didn't matter how much trouble she was, that wouldn't change anything.

He might be cold, stern and everything else that others said of him behind his back, but the love of a father was above everything else. He loved his demoness quite so much, so that was what was important.

"I love you, Dad. And I mean it."

"I love you too, daughter mine, with all my heart."

[rvspberry]

Idk if I’m gonna end up posting this on AO3 because it’s very different from what I usually write.

But below the cut is some Johnny Lawrence sexuality crisis angst with a happy ending if you feel like it. (Heavy Christian themes and Lawrusso ending ahead.)

He was righteous, on high, the Almighty personified. Forgiving, and gracious in victory, and good through and through. Set his mind to something and he could make the whole world come alive.

That’s how Johnny felt at the Tournament, at least, when the entire crowd swarmed the floor and lifted LaRusso onto their shoulders, and Johnny snagged the first place trophy. Handed it up like an offering, a sacrificial lamb — all that Johnny had at stake, all that he’d lost, given freely and openly to this holy being.

The crowd grew louder. Johnny called out, “You’re alright, LaRusso. Good match.”

Got a pained, “Thanks,” in return.

He’d touched someone holy and lived to tell the tale.

~

Once Johnny is at Bobby’s house that night, since Sid and Laura flew to Miami for the week before Christmas, he asks Bobby to pray with him.

“You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny glances up to find worried blue eyes looking over at him, sizing him up — no, not quite. Measuring him, trying to gauge Johnny for what no one could see. Bobby’s eyes are such a different blue than Johnny's, clear and crisp but never cold. Johnny wonders if Bobby sees anything, if Johnny shows anything.

“I just…” Johnny rasps, gripping the glass of water in hand again and taking a hesitant sip. They told him at the hospital that he’d have to rest. Asked if he wanted to press charges, but Johnny just shook his head. “I need some guidance.”

“No better place to look to than to Jesus,” Bobby agrees, reaching out to take Johnny’s hands. He closes his eyes, and Johnny pauses for a brief moment, body going stiff, before he follows suit. Takes a deep breath as Bobby begins. “Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.”

Daniel.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” Bobby continues.

Johnny squeezes his eyes tighter and tries not to let his grip tighten, too.

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Please forgive me. Please. Daniel. I’m sorry.

“And lead us not into temptation—”

Daniel’s eyes. His grin, his mouth, his lips. Daniel’s body. The confident smirk when he gets up into Johnny’s face.

“—but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” Bobby finishes, squeezing Johnny’s hands. Johnny blinks his eyes open, jaw clenched, to see Bobby giving him a small smile. “Forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Johnny repeats weakly, clenching his teeth against the urge to cry. To sob.

To throw himself onto the floor and mourn the loss of a life he’d had for years now, the life he’d fought so hard for. The life of a champion, of a winner, the life of a kid from Encino Hills. The life of someone normal, a leader, head dog even though he came into this life late, no rules established, flying blind and feeling his way into his place.

“You’re sure you’re okay, man?”

“I’m not,” Johnny chokes out. Hangs his head.

There are too many thoughts in his head, too much guilt and shame, and he can’t focus on one without the other flaring up to take his attention. Back and forth, back and forth, between Kreese almost killing him and Daniel’s sensei saving him and Daniel winning the match, to needlessly tormenting Daniel all semester and making a bigger ass of himself each and every time. Over and over, like it was on a loop.

“Do you want to pray again?” Bobby asks, voice dropping lower. “Sometimes it helps. The… repetition. Try to focus on the words this time. Focus on God. Let the spirit take you.”

Take me where? Johnny thinks, but he just tightens his hands around Bobby’s and nods.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

~

When Bobby leaves at the end of the summer to go to college in Oregon, a special school for religious studies, he leaves Johnny with his new number and a prayer book.

“If things get hard, turn to God,” he reminds Johnny. Pats Johnny’s back while they hug tightly. Johnny hasn’t been apart from Bobby since they became best friends at thirteen, both newly enrolled in Cobra Kai. “God has a plan for all of us, and you can find all your answers in the Lord, man. You just have to be open to hearing them even when they’re not the answers you want.”

Johnny keeps the prayer book. Says a prayer every night. Calls Bobby once a week, like clockwork, and stops drinking. He gets kicked out of Sid’s house when he turns 18 in July, gets a job as a handyman, then starts apprenticing for a carpenter, then starts working construction. It’s hard work but it’s honest work.

~

Every time his eyes turn to one of his coworkers, when they catch on the sweat and grime smeared over their muscles, or the curve of their ass, or the line of their jaw, Johnny recites one of those prayers in his head.

Dear Lord, please give me strength when I am weak, courage when I am afraid, love when I feel forsaken, wisdom when I feel foolish, comfort when I am alone, hope when I feel rejected, and peace when I am in turmoil. Amen.

Every time he gets asked out for drinks by his well-meaning colleagues, he politely declines and spends ten minutes praying in his car after his shift is over, hands blistered, muscles aching.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among sinners and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Every night, Johnny lays in bed and freestyles his prayers. God needs to know, he probably already knows, but he needs to know that Johnny doesn’t want to be like this. He wants to change. He wants answers. He wants to be open to them, just like Bobby told him.

~

“Go out tonight,” Bobby laughs when Johnny calls him on a Saturday at his usual time. “Just get out and have some fun. Go to a movie. Buy yourself dinner, whatever. Go meet someone. You’re just working and sleeping. You need to live a little, Johnny.”

Is that what God wants me to do? Johnny thought to himself. To go out and find a woman to settle down with? Is that God’s plan?

It’s what Johnny’s supposed to do, right?

“Okay, okay,” Johnny groans into the phone, ready to slam it back onto the receiver when Bobby whoops in elated triumph. “Some good, clean fun. Fitting for the best friend of a pastor’s son.”

~

Johnny goes to the movies. The new sequel to Alien, aptly titled ‘Aliens,’ looks halfway decent. Definitely not a good clean movie, but Johnny can live a little. It’s on its last leg, only playing the earlier showings, so Johnny snags the ticket since he figures he can be mostly alone that way. He loiters in the lobby trying to decide between popcorn or an overpriced box of candy to go with his soda. The bored teen behind the counter pops her gum and rolls her eyes as she waits for him to make up his mind.

He doesn’t fidget as he looks in the glass case, even as much as he wants to. It’s been conditioned out of him.

“Back straight, shoulders down, chin up, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Hey, can I get a large popcorn please?” comes a voice from beside him.

Johnny glances over, shaggy hair whipping around his face, and spots the one person he thought he’d never see again. Daniel LaRusso looks the same as he did before — a little taller, maybe, his long limbs filled out a little more, but still the shrimpy kid who kicked his ass.

Same eyes, same voice, same body.

Same mouth.

Dear Lord, please give me strength—

“Johnny? Johnny Lawrence?!” Daniel’s words cut through his prayer.

Johnny inhales sharply. He has to control himself. Give me the strength when I am weak, courage when I—

“Holy shit, man, look at you,” Daniel laughs, tapping Johnny’s bicep tellingly. A year-plus in construction had done wonders for his body, and his arms in particular. “Like a brick shithouse. Are you on steroids?”

“No, I work construction.” Johnny doesn’t know why his voice sounds so rough. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi, LaRusso. Small world meeting you here, I guess.”

“Yeah, man! You here with anyone?” Daniel glances around, as if trying to pin someone else in the lobby to Johnny, but there was no one to match him up with. No one to match up Daniel with, either.

“No. You?”

“Flying solo today,” Daniel croons, running his hands down his chest. Johnny blushes and looks up at the ceiling.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee—

“What movie are you seeing?” Daniel asks, taking the tub of popcorn from the teen and passing a bill over the counter. He snagged a handful and popped a few butter-soaked pieces into his mouth.

“Uh…” Johnny glances down at his ticket. “Aliens.”

“No way! Me too!” Daniel says around chewing the popcorn. He pauses and looks at Johnny with his head cocked curiously. “You wanna watch it together?”

~

O, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You. I detest all my sins because of your just punishments, but most of all because they offend you, My God, who are all good and worthy of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.

~

The movie theater is empty. There’s butter on Daniel’s bottom lip, shining in the dimly lit room. Johnny licks it off in the black silence of the end credits.

Kissing Daniel feels like coming home. It feels like touching something divine, and Johnny’s stained gold in all the places they touch.

Is this God’s plan? Johnny asks himself. Daniel’s fingers tug at his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp. Johnny pulls Daniel across the seat and into his lap as he swallows Daniel’s moan.

Below Johnny’s hands, Daniel feels like an answer.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer IV

Part 07: Crashing Down

series masterlist | previous part

summary: A jarring family emergency forces you to consider the future of your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

a/n: I'm a little bit emotional about this series ending because I've had so much fun writing it! Enjoy the last part and, as always, please come share your reactions with me in my inbox. Okay, that's all from me!

word count: 2.1k words

Rafe Cameron knew how to text. He was somehow witty, charming, and hilarious all in less characters than a single tweet. Texting with most boys was like talking to a brick wall: single-syllable answers, unironic uses of punctuation, asking “What are you wearing?” before even listening to how your day went. Though, to be fair, Rafe had asked that same question a few times, which always earned him a sarcastic answer in return. Well, except for that one time.

You’d been forced to spill the beans about your dreamy summer romance to Alice and Kensie after one of Rafe’s funnier texts almost made you pee yourself laughing at the lunch table.

“Oh, so he’s a stud muffin,” Alice announced, peering over Kenzie’s shoulder at the photo on your phone.

“Please god don’t call anyone a stud muffin ever again Al,” Kenzie replied.

“What? The 80s are like making a comeback.”

“Yeah, not that,” you countered and Alice huffed.

“He’s totally hot though,” Kenzie said, handing the phone back to you. “And I kinda hate you for not telling us about him.”

You looked down at the picture. Rafe was kissing your check while you grinned up at the camera, the golden hour lighting made the whole thing look rather enchanting. It was your favorite picture of you and him.

“Oh shit,” Kenzie said causing you to look up from the phone. “You’re like in love in love with him.”

“What? No,” you protested. Yes, your brain corrected.

Kenzie glanced over at Alice for backup.

“Besides, I wasn’t hiding him. I just didn’t know if there was anything there to...tell,” you finished.

“I wish I had a handsome summer fling with spectacular cheekbones,” Alice sighed.

“Don’t let your boyfriend hear you saying that.” Kenzie chucked a fry off her tray at Alice who dodged it expertly.

“Oh, please. Matty knows I would dump his ass for someone who looks like a young Chuck Bass any day of the week. Gimme your phone. I wanna see the photos again y/n.”

“I seriously don’t know how you and Matthew have been together for two years,” Kenzie replied.

“Are you kidding? They’re practically made for each other,” you added.

“The phone, please,” Alice interjected. “I wanna thirst over your mans while my boyfriend is sucking up to his English teacher so she doesn’t fail him. Of course, I told him he needed to actually read Wuthering Heights and not just sparknotes it. But did he listen? No. I picked a real winner y’all,” she finished, taking the phone from your outstretched hands. “You sure Rafe doesn’t have any brothers? Not even like a half-step brother?”

So yeah, going great. Against the odds of three thousand miles, the whole thing was somehow working. Long-distance friends with benefits? Check. Well, except for those moments when that nagging feeling in your stomach came back and you’d start overthinking everything. His texts would sit, unread in your phone for days or even a whole week, slowly sinking to the bottom of your messages.

Then came the call from the Kildare Country Hospital in the early hours of a foggy April morning. You should have gone to sleep hours ago but were still up, desperately trying to cram Maria’s lines into your brain while also texting Rafe. The Sound of Music opened in three weeks and your director had already chewed you out twice for not being off-book, something about being an upperclassman and the lead, and what kind of an example were you setting for the rest of the program. Big speeches were kind of your director's thing, you learned to just ride them out.

Around 1 a.m. your phone ran with an incoming FaceTime call from Rafe. You pressed the green acccept button, a smile spread across your face as Rafe’s own filled the screen.

“Hey Broadway Star.”

“Hi Rafe.” The dim lighting of his bedroom made his feature especially striking. “What are you still doing up?”

“Can’t sleep. Plus you’re up too so. How’s the memorizing going?”

“Shitty,” you replied, closing your binder with a sigh. “I’m too tired to do anymore of it tonight anyway.”

“You know, I was thinking I could come to Oregon for your opening night?”

“Really?” The possibility of Rafe sitting in the audience made your heart race.

“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Ward if I can borrow the plane that weekend and I bet Sarah’ll want to come too. I wanna see my girl kill it. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Rafe. You know my friends think you’re hot.”

“Oh, do they?” Rafe replied, rolling over onto his back in his bed.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Cameron.”

The home phone ran but you ignored it, much more invested in your conversation with Rafe. The second time the hospital left a message. Your Nonna’s heart had given out. The prognosis wasn’t good. She had barely any time left.

Your heart dropped as the words echoed over the speaker of the answering machine.

“Rafe,” you said, cutting him off momentarily. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later. I gotta-” you ended the call before Rafe even had the chance to respond. You dropped your phone on the kitchen table, dashing up the stairs to your parents’ bedroom. Your father was booking a flight for your mother back to the Outer Banks minutes later.

The end had come so quickly, so unexpectedly. It was almost like that made it harder. There'd been just enough time for your mom and uncle to get to the Outer Banks, sitting on each side of your Nonna as her final breaths passed through her lungs. Now, everyone was there to say goodbye one last time. Uncle Austin and his fiancé. Your mom and dad. Both your siblings. The entire population of Figure Eight.

☼☼☼

Rain drizzled down from the dark, gray clouds looming overhead. It was as if Mother Nature was mourning your Nonna too, hiding the sunshine away.

Three baby ducks followed their mama into the man-made pond at the edge of the cemetery. You watched their tiny feet kick up small waves disturbing the peaceful water and the tears silently slipped down your face.

The cars were waiting to take you back to your Nonna's house for the wake. The same house with the for-sale sign now stuck in the front yard. The for-sale sign with Rose's patronizing grin that you were starting to really hate. Your dad had handled that. Listing the house. He'd handled most of the funeral arrangement's actually because your mother had been too sunken into her grief to make any decision. Sending out the invitations, picking out your Nonna's casket, choosing the flowers. Your mother clung to him during the entire funeral, weeping into his shoulder.

“Y/n?” Rafe's voice called out from behind you and you turned to see him walked toward you. He’d stood at the back of the church with his family during the funeral. You had longed for him to be sitting in the first pew next to you, to have had his hand to hold onto to ground you, but it hardly would have been appropriate. Your Nonna would have sooner risen from the dead than have had a Cameron front row at her funeral.

As soon as he was close enough, Rafe reached for you, pulling your body tight into him. Your head landed on his chest and the sobs came moments later. God, he always smelled the same. He just let you cry, holding you close, smoothing his hand over your hair.

“I know you’re selling your grandma’s house but I was thinking you could stay with me for the summer," he said as your tears began to slow. It was hard to imagine that you wouldn't return to the Outer Banks once school let out. It was the first week of May already and you could feel the tourist-attracting town waking up. But selling the house just made more sense. Your older sister was already living her life in New York, a real adult life. Next summer, you'd be moving out too, headed to college. The house would sit empty for eight months out of the year, your family couldn't keep it and your uncle certainly didn’t want it. Selling it just had to happen.

You stepped back, slipping out of his embrace. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”

“Why not?”

“Cause we’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I copied Cleo’s notes for that unit," he joked, trying to lighten to damp mood. “Plus I was never a fan of Leo DiCaprio so I didn’t finish the movie either.”

“It means we’re not supposed to be together, you and me. And whenever we try, the universe rips us apart. We hurt each other.”

Rafe shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly wanting to reach for you again but stopping himself from doing it. “But I can't lose you.”

You reached your hand out, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Oh Rafe, don’t you get it? You never really had me.” You stood up onto your tiptoes to kiss him just like you had the first time three years ago. Rafe barely parted his lips, kissing you back gently. Your hand cupped his face, your thump stroking over his cheek. It was a goodbye. Both of you knew it. It was an ending and this was your closure. You pulled away, your hand falling away from his face.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words. Your eyes fell to the ground. You needed to walk away now. You side-stepped Rafe but he grabbed your waist, turning you back around to face him.

“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna try to fight for us?”

“What even is there to fight for, Rafe? I’ve been fighting for us for the past four years. If we were supposed to be together that car wouldn’t have crashed into ours, I wouldn’t have fallen for Evan when I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at my Nonna’s funeral. What? Are we supposed to do long distance for all of college? I hardly know who I am right now. I have no idea who I’ll be in the next four years. Our future selves might not even like each other. I’m not gonna wait around for you Rafe and I would never ask you to do that for me.” You twirled the small, star charm between your fingers, a nervous habit you'd developed over the past year. His eyes dropped down to your neck momentarily and his adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed his next weeks.

“You were it for me, you know. I tried to give a fuck about anyone else but I couldn’t get your gorgeous, stupid face out of my mind. I only wanted you.” Rafe paused gauging your reaction “I was falling in love with you.”

Your eyes wandered over his stoic expression. “The feeling was mutual, Rafe Cameron.”

He dropped your wrist but you both stood, not moving or saying anything. “Do you wanna walk me back to the car?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your other hand held onto his bicep so you walked together through the graveyard back to the parking lot.

The moment felt precious and delicate, like the fragile china your Nonna used to collect. You wondered what would happen to all that china.

Rafe placed a chaste kiss on your lips before opening the door of the car.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, the words hanging in the air meaning so much.

“Me too,” Rafe agreed.

You wanted one more kiss, one more passionate declaration of how much this all had meant but that would make leaving Rafe so much more impossible.

You climbed into the car, dropping Rafe’s hand in the process.

“See you around Cameron.” You knew it wouldn’t happen but it felt better than a goodbye.

He smiled back. “Maybe so.”

Perhaps Rafe was right and you’d both end up at a small liberal arts college in California taking the same second-year Econ class with a professor who always smelled like weed. Perhaps the stars would align and two of you would realize the universe wasn’t trying to keep you apart. It was just waiting for the right moment to show you that the love you had for each other was the soulmates, forever and ever kind of love. Perhaps you would get married and Sarah would be your maid of honor, of course. You’d buy back your Nonna’s house to raise your troubling-making kids in. Perhaps, you would find your way back and wake up each day and choose each other again and again.

Or perhaps, he'd always be your right-person-wrong-time. And, in the end, the passing days will steal away your memories of the blue-eyed boy from the Outer Banks.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13

[peakywitch]

Too much, too less - Michael Gray

A/N: eeeh angsty of course lmao sorry... THIS GIF 🤰🤰🤰

Words: 1k maybe idk i didn't count

masterlist

Christmas was one of Y/N favourite times of the year. Her family always celebrated it with joy, love and a lot of laughter. The whole year they worked day and night, just to be able to spend cozy and warm festivities.

It was, of course, all she could remember. Then, war wiped her dad away from his family fingers, and her mom disappeared into the horizon inside a gipsy caravan with a Lee after the letter from his death came in, as a desperate way of escaping grief. And so, the only Christmas she would never forget was Christmas 1918. It was a cold, grey and lonely Christmas.

When the town heard from her misery, they all handed out their hand to help the lost girl.

They tried to find a job that would suit an eighteen year old, and she found her place by Polly Gray’s side. With her nephew’s in France, she needed an extra helping hand in the betting den. And you could tell her skill was treating customers, you could see it in the way she smiled, she acted and she laughed at the silly jokes men did. She helped them by sometimes giving hints on which horse would win, and that’s how she won everyone’s heart.

When the boys came back, they took a quick liking at her. The Shelby brothers found her warm teas almost bewitching, they tasted like a little bit of peace. Christmas 1919 wasn't so horrible, after all, she found herself in a new family, with good older brothers and a motherly figure who would always be there for her, no matter what.

And in 1921 he appeared: Michael fucking Gray. A man with such a superiority complex yet to show, but someone could sense it in the way he began to make his way into the company.

And so he did, he got a job as accountant in the company, leading Y/N to a horrible destiny: being his assistant.

She felt the need to stay quiet, she could not end up in the streets. So, Y/N would always help Michael when he demanded her help. And now, he felt like he owned her. Y/N do this, do that, take note, erase, write, speak, eat, stop speaking. And being bossed around by someone who is your own age and more stupid than you, it’s a pain in the ass.

“Don’t you think you are a little too loud?” he asked once, coming out from his office to find her laughing with Johnny Doggs.

Maybe she was too loud.

“Sorry, Michael, it’s my fault…” said Johnny, trying to stop his laughter.

“It’s ok Johnny, but she needs to stop being so loud.”

It felt like cold water splashing over her.

Then, one happy night in the Garrison, he did another remark.

"Do you really think that joke was funny? You're trying way too hard."

Men who wanted to hear her jokes and laugh, could now only see her smile. And it happened too when she went out with Isaiah, Finn and now Michael. She was always laughing, drinking beer and making jokes. But her jokes became small smiles, and hours of fun abd endless beers became twenty minutes of being uncomfortably seating by his side.

But it was Christmas 1925, when the family found out how she had been feeling the past year since she started being Michael’s assistant.

It was the 24th of December, and the whole family was gathered in the master dining room, while the house employees were serving the food. She was sitting between Lizzie and Esme, drinking champagne and laughing at stories they told.

She couldn't keep her laugh inside, and she kept on laughing with every word the women spoke. Everyone loved to hear her laugh, she always made everyone happy.

And when she calmed down, after a few seconds she heard Michael whispering to Isaiah underneath his breath:

“Don’t you think she is too loud?” he asked, with a chuckle, but Is kept a straight face, Y/N was staring at both of them.

When Michael moved away from Isaiah, he had a weird smile, as if he had won something. They both connected their eyes, she would be throwing champagne in his face in any minute.

And then she felt it, the courage building inside her, and erupting from her body.

“Stop it.” she demanded, with a straight face. Her stomach tangled.

“Stop what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, playing dumb

“Stop telling me I’m too much. Too chatty, too happy, too excited."

"And don't forget about too nosy and too loud."

She laughes in disbelief. Michael was always a dick, he thought of himself as king of the world.

"I am a woman, and maybe I am too much of a woman. Maybe I'm just too much of a fucking woman for you, and you only know how to cry about how much of a man you wish you could be." She screamed as her hands tried to stay away from the knife.

That!" He laughed, and drunk some wine "That's exactly why you keep on scaring man away. You think I didn't know you liked me? You think you are cute and pretty when you laugh? You are impossible to stand, didn't you know?"

"Michael, that's enough." Demanded Polly.

"Twenty-something and no lover, uh? Poor little girl. Must be horrible to cry yourself to sleep asking God why no man wanta you! Well there you fuckin' go! Now you know!"

She looked around, trying to run into Arthur's arms like she always did. But he was worried with his own kid now. While Ada and Polly were exchanging silent plans on what to do, Esme had her hand on John's shoulder, telling him to sit.

She was alone.

“Stop focusing on me and my happiness, and start focusing on the lack of joy and laughter your life has, Michael. My dad died and my mom left me to mourn alone, so I’m sorry if I’m enjoying life once and for all, i’m sorry your life is so dark, that you have to focus on someone else’s happiness to have something to say.”

“Y/N, I think you are being…” he began, with a defying gaze.

“Too loud? Too angry? I damn am. You will be too much of an idiot not to realize I am two times the man you are. And damn you fool, you would be a lucky guy to date a woman like me, who tries to keep a smile on her face every fuckin’ day!”

“Calm down, you don’t need to yell.” he stated, with a smile that make him look like a snake. That same smile he had every time he talked about a girl he spent the night with.

“You never had the need to be a bastard with me for the past year, yet you were. And every day i tried to bond with you, you would just brush me off with nasty comments about my smile, my clothes, my hair, my laugh. I was happy, and you took it away. So congrats Michael, now I am everything you always wanted: too quiet, too grey, too sad and too fucking boring, just like you are.”

"You're simply pathetic. As lost as a kid, I don't even know how you got this position. You can't-"

"Now I know why Charlotte wanted to abort your kid. You don't even have what it takes to be a kid yourself."

Polly stared in disbelief.

Michael was...?

Michael did.... what?

Esme and Ada stared at Finn, who was trying to hide a smile.

She cleaned her mouth with the white napkin, and excused herself.

"If by monday Michael doesn't quit, I will. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Tom. The food was amazing."

She walked out of the dining room, her heels accompanied her, letting everyone know she was heading upstairs to end her night.

"You went too far, Michael." Said Lizzie, still in shock at the news Y/N had just revealed "She didn't deserve it. And you fucking know it."

The table was one big argument. Everyone in her favor, trying to get Michael into his senses.

"Michael…" Tommy stated, and the table started to calm down "Michael, you heard her."

"Are you mental? Do you want my son to quit?" Polly fought.

"He's a adult, Pol. He has a good twenty years, ain't that right? If he doesn't want to be fired, he will sort it out. Like we all do in life."

Tommy stood with her, she knew it. And to say she was oblivious to it would be a lie. She knew. But she had supported to much.

@deepdonutkid @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @stydia-4-ever @natural-hearts @lovemissyhoneybee @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @peakyrogers @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @pinkeijin @lukeymybabe @eternallyvenus @anchy-bananchy @peakyswritings

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 2: falling

Chapter Summary: The morning after the reveal of Emily’s death and a conversation with Spencer.

Contains: mentions of cat-calling and panic attacks, light kissing, grief and mourning.

Word Count: 2.4k 

Comments: this fic is my new baby and i will nurture it to its end. this is gonna end up being a long story and emily won't reappear for at least another 25k so there's that! also look i gave a little flashback to their relationship! in case i didn't elaborate enough, spencer and reader are quite close and have known each other since elle left which ill get into in another chapter! so that's why she has some of his clothes and why he's so close to her and latching onto her. reader is going through it rn but she's shoving it aside which isn't healthy and not good in the long run so she'll have to adress it eventually but that's not now! she's kinda numb rn and trying to keep it together for spencer which is going... as well as one would expect.

i think my favorite line in this was "The song ends but the moment doesn’t." and "But all moments have to come to an end."next chapter, we'll be getting the rest of the bau team (yay!) and emily's funeral (💔)! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love hearing feedback even if it’s something small!

also i’m gonna do a taglist for this fic so if you’d like to be added, send me an ask with the username you’d like to be tagged with!

masterlist | read on ao3

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

- Harry Styles, "Falling"

When the morning comes, you wake up first on your couch and feel a crick in your neck. The night’s memories rush back to your mind and you immediately feel nauseous. You manage to very carefully separate yourself from Spencer and manage to make it to the restroom in time to vomit.

It’s awful.

You don’t even know why it’s still hitting you so hard when Spencer is the one that should be feeling like this. He’s the one that’s known her for years and you were nothing but a fling for her.

You don’t glance at yourself when you exit your bathroom, already knowing the state you’re in. When you enter your living room, Spencer is still out so you decide to do the next best thing you can for him.

You’re thankful that you already have some leftover ground coffee beans from the day before because you really don’t want to wake him up before you can put a cup of coffee in his hands.  Going through the motions of making coffee and then a simple breakfast is calming.

You’re unsure if Spencer will be able to stomach anything if he’s anything like you are now so you make the lightest meal you can. When the coffee machine beeps, you grab two mugs and begin making the coffee the way he likes.

It’s as you’re making your own coffee that you’re interrupted by Spencer calling out your name. You turn around and find him rubbing his eyes and looking a bit better than when he first came in.

“Hey, Spence. I have some coffee if you want some,” you grab his mug at his nod and place it in his trembling hands, “it’s just how you like. Ninety percent sugar and cream and ten percent actual coffee.” A small smile crept onto his face at your joke and you’re glad you’ve managed to make him smile even if it’s just a little bit.

He sips on his coffee and you decide to plate the food that’s still warm onto your dining table. He follows and takes the seat across from you, mumbling his thanks. You both eat in silence for there are no words or fun quips to share with Emily gone.

Spencer is the first to break the silence. “Thank you… Thank you for last night. I couldn’t stay with my team after that. It was just too personal. I know I’ve mentioned it before but I’m the youngest of the team and though they mean well, they tend to baby me. I… I couldn’t handle it so I left them.” He pauses, fingertips tapping in a familiar tune on the ceramic mug, “I didn’t want to be alone and you’re the first person I thought of. I know you know… knew Emily and that you would just be there for me so thank you.”

He looks directly into your eyes as he says this and you know how serious this must mean for him so you reach out for his hand, which he extends for you, and squeeze it in your own. You have to articulate your response properly because you don’t want to scare him off by saying the wrong thing.

Maintaining eye contact, you speak, “I’m glad I was able to be there for you, Spencer. To be the first person you came to means a lot to me. I hope you know I’ll always be there for you, for the small and the big things. While I may not be as close… While I may not have been as close to Emily as you were, I will still grieve for her. Just knowing how much she meant to you is enough for me to know how much a beautiful person she was. From the little glimpses I’ve seen of her and the tidbits you’ve told me over the years, I know this is going to be one of the hardest things for you… and if you let me, I’d like to be there for you.”

He’s like an open book after you’ve told him your resolve, like the book you’ve reread more times you can count and the original copy has been worn down due with some of the passages long gone but memorized in your heart. His eyes are watering again and he’s out of his seat faster than you can comprehend and he lifts you up and his arms wrap around you tightly, as if you’re his lifeline.

He whispers words of gratitude into the crown of your head and you hold him back just as tightly, tears springing to your eyes. You’d do anything to take his pain away and if this is all you can do then you’ll do it willingly.

“I want you here,” his voice is low and wrecked, “I.. I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please don’t leave me. Everyone leaves, Please…”

You look up to him and grab his face gently in your hands, wiping the tears from his cheek as you say, “I’m not leaving, Spencer. I’m right here. I’m here for you always. I promise not to leave you. I’m with you. I’m here.” At this, he looks even more broken and only nods his head, breath hitching and his sobs ceasing for the moment. You know it’s not enough for him so you guide one of  his hands to the pulse on your wrist.

“Count.” And he does, his mind focuses on the beat and it calms him; it reassures him you’re still alive.

When the minute is over, he looks significantly more calm and less likely to cry again. He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re really there and you pull him in again. Physical contact is meant to ground people and you only hope this helps him.

A shrill ring interrupts your thoughts and you know it’s Spencer’s because you’ve heard it many times before from him and Emily both.

He lets go of you to answer it and he tenses immediately as he hears whoever it is on the other line. He says a few things in response and his eyes become glassy again. He hangs up only a few moments later and turns to you.

“My team wants me to help inform Emily’s mother of her death so we can start planning her funeral…” He closes his eyes shut and his fingers clench into his palms. Slowly, you walk up to him and unfold his palms and find red, crescent indents on his palms.

“I can drive you…? I know you took the metro here. Let me help, Spencer.” He just nods and you lead him to the bathroom to help tidy him up. You turn the faucet on and hand him his toothbrush, your fingers lingering on Emily’s red one before grabbing your own. It’s a familiar routine and as you finish, you leave to let him use the restroom and wash up while you rack through your closet to find something he's left over to wear for the day.

You manage to find a striped brown button up and matching brown pants while you put on a simple outfit, a grey long sleeve with jeans and a pair of black vans. You knock on the door and he opens it after a moment and takes his clothes from you. You go back to your room to fix up your hair and after a while you deem it acceptable.

As you’re doing your makeup routine, you hear a knock then, “Are you decent?”

“Come in, I’m almost done.” The door opens and you catch his reflection in your mirror. He looks better but the despair that clings to him is obvious to you.

He lets a small smile fill his face and though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you still match it. “I’m surprised you still had this. I had wondered where this outfit had gone but I remember that when I stayed over that night I had to leave immediately and left it here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t just throw it away and I kept forgetting to give it back to you. It’s a good thing otherwise you’d be left in some sweatpants and a Star Trek t-shirt.” He lets out a small laugh at that and you’re grateful you’re able to get him to genuinely laugh.

“Okay, I’m done. We can head out now.” He follows you out of your apartment and into the passenger seat of your car. The ride is silent to Quantico, unlike the usual rides you give him where you play a new genre for him and for him to compare it to his classical music and talk about some facts of the music.

When you finally arrive, you both sit there. He doesn’t want to leave and face reality and you don’t want to be left alone with only the truth to haunt you.

Spencer breaks the silence once again, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would’ve gone last night… If you can, can you pick me up later? I… I can’t be with the team right now. It’s just too fresh.”

“Of course, Spencer. Just send me a text a bit before and I’ll be there.” He nods and gives you a quick hug before leaving and your eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a pinprick in your vision.

Like a switch flipped, you can only think of Emily. It’s not fair that she… that Emily is gone, that’s she’s dead. You never thought this was a probability. She was always such an impervious figure in your mind, a larger than life kind of person. You knew it was a possibility in her line of work but it never crossed your mind that it could actually happen to her. She was a strong woman, never letting anything affect her and you can’t believe she’s gone.

You shouldn’t even feel this strongly for her, you’re not meant to be more than a friend to her but you can’t help but think of her as your lover. Every little moment you’ve shared with her flashes in your mind. One in particular stands out, one that had happened only a month or two ago.

“Ugh, Emily. We’ve gotta go or else tomorrow morning is gonna be hell for the both of us.” You drag her away from the bar and shoot a smile at the bartender who only shakes her head and mouths “have a nice night”.

“ No ,” she whines, “I don’t want to, babe. We were having so much fun. Let’s stay here and dance some more.” She grins at you, taking your hand and pulling you back into the crowd. You let her because you can never say no to her, not when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile.

Her mood is infectious and you let her have this one last dance. It’s not even a song you know but you think it might be your new favorite with the way she twirls you around and looks at you with affection and fondness.

Being with Emily is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, even if this is a temporary thing. You would do anything for her, even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.

The song ends but the moment doesn’t.

“Okay, okay, Em. We really need to go now.” She pouts at you but relents and follows you out of the club.

Before you reach your car, she pulls you in, her hands cradling your face, and she’s looking at you in wonder, “Y’know I can’t believe you’re actually here. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You mean so much to me. I hope you know that.” She leans in and kisses you. You savor every moment of it, feeling her smile against your lips. Like an imp, she grins widely and leaves multiple pecks around your lips, never quite touching.

It’s just you and her in that moment and she’s never seemed more lovely than in that exact moment.

Deciding that her actions are enough, you grab her by the chin and your free arm wraps around her waist so that she’s flush against you and slam your lips onto her own. Every emotion you’ve felt for her is poured into the kiss and you hope she can feel it. It’s passionate and messy and it leaves you wanting more.

She lets out a small moan when you move your mouth to pepper kisses onto her jaw and to suck on her sweet spot, sighing praises into her skin as if they’ll imprint on her, an irrefutable claim.

You’re not sure how much time passes between that moment but you only stop when you hear multiple wolf whistles and she groans before pulling away from you and yells at the offenders, “Shows’ over, you fucks!” Then she turns to you and leers, “We’ll finish this back at my place.”

You’re only able to nod and look at her in awe,  “Emily Prentiss… what a woman you are. I’ll never be able to forget you know?”

She smiles even wider at your admission, and beckons you forward and of course you come closer and she admits quietly, “You won’t ever have the chance to. I plan on never letting you go.”

But all moments have to come to an end.

If only that was the truth because she never brought up the conversation the morning after. Whether she actually remembered it and shoved it aside or she genuinely couldn’t remember, you can’t decide what’s worse. You never mention it because you don’t want to ruin something that already works and now… Now you would never have the chance to find out because Emily was dead.

Tears well up in your eyes and you recognize the signs of an oncoming panic attack. It’s with a wet laugh that you realize that you were right, your dramatic thoughts from the night she texted you had come true.

Emily Prentiss would haunt you forever and you’ll let her if it means you’ll never forget what she sounded like or what each gleam in her eye or each smile meant.

[gwendeeagain]

How I wrote the Demon fic

Don't draw devil's traps in janitors' closets is one of my longest fic series I’ve ever written, the most notable of which would be my Demon Gakushuu fic, if you’ve seen it. 

In partial response to an ask post (link here), I’ve decided to revisit my writing of this fic series! It was quite a long journey for me and I think it might be fun (?) sharing it with everyone. It’s rather long, so I’ll tag it under “keep reading”. 

FYI this thread contains major spoilers for the fic (and would honestly make no sense if you do not have prior knowledge of it).

I'll just refer to the first fic in the series as Books because it has an insanely long title. Subsequent fics are in order Burgundy, Potential, Illuminate, Illuminate rewrite, and Addendum. The main series is linked here.

Addendum is not linked in the main series for reasons I'll explain below. (link here)

Books

I think one of my biggest mistakes writing Books is my lack of plot planning, and subsequently how thematically inconsistent it became. I start off most my fics with a rough idea of how I want the story to end, and a few good themes to carry me through the plot as I write, but for Books I started off with the first chapter and nothing else. If you followed the notes of my fic you'd probably have witnessed my gradual descent into uncertainty and despair as the fic spiralled out of my control due to how wrong I felt it was becoming.

The fic took a surprisingly hard toll on me. I absolutely hated it. I refused to mark it as complete because I was dissatisfied with how it ended. I thought that everyone was out of character, that I lost the original ending and goal in my head, that it was thematically messy such that I couldn't justify any ending I tried to come up with, and I was just grasping at straws trying to make it work. 

The three things that bothered me were Gakushuu’s wings, Koro-Sensei and the introduction of Aina. When I started this fic I had plans to kill off Koro-Sensei at the end, however as the fic went on it became a celebration of life and learning how to live, and I knew I couldn’t bring myself to have any death in this fic... but at the same time I had Gakushuu find a lot of meaning in Koro-Sensei’s (to-be) death and I didn’t want to undo that. The wings were on a similar note, because Gakushuu spend 50k words finding out who he is and accepting that he was different. Turning that message around and making him go back to being “the same” ate me up inside, but at the same time I set-up the Demon Society in such a way that they would kill Gakushuu if he didn’t have his wings, and it’s supposed to be a happy ending, dammit! Aina was a particularly egregious case because I threw her (and Ikeda) in without any prior warning at the very last minute. I already had a whole world and setting planned for them which I never got to expand on in the previous chapters because I was so anxious about the other two points, and when it came down to the last chapter I realized I had no set-up for these two, who were supposed to be major players in the finale. Basically I was bad at writing.

Even now I cannot fully articulate why it was terrible for me, but compounded with my real-life stressors, I suppose it just became a bit too much to deal with. (This is a piece of fiction that I am creating from scratch. If I can't even get this under control, what hope do I have for everything else?)

((For come disclosure I was never formally diagnosed with any mental illness, but my parents are the sort of people who don’t believe mental illness exists anyways. I would say that I’ve had depressive episodes when I was younger and sometimes even now, but I’ve learnt my ways of dealing with them!))

Burgundy

Four days later I published Burgundy, a short sequel to Books, very shortly after only because I had already finished writing by that time. I actually do still have several half-finished follow ups at that point, but I couldn't bring myself to complete any sequels because I couldn't even come to terms with the ending of the main story. (Those wips are lost to me now.) I think I was hoping that forcing myself to publish the sequel would show me that it was "no big deal" that the main fic didn't end the way I hoped it would, but it succeeded in making me feel worse.

Potential

About one month after that I wrote Potential. It was a three parter, somehow a fifth of the length of the main fic, that followed Gakuhou's perspective prior to the events of Books. It was a prequel which imo made it easier to write, because I still couldn't move on from Books yet. I think writing Potential was me trying to remind myself why I wrote Books in the first place, to perhaps reignite my original passion for the series. It's kind of funny to think about in hindsight, and a little meta, because Potential was a lead up to the events in Books. It worked... a little bit, I think. I still couldn't reconcile my feelings for the whole thing, but through it I got to revisit the original premise that I fell in love with and expand more on worldbuilding it. I could reprise Aina and Ikeda and finally write about the world I planned to introduce them in in the first fic and give more context and insights to how the demon society was supposed to work.

Illuminate

Six months after Potential, I ran into a comment that said, "what would Gakuhou have done if Gakushuu had died?" And for some reason it struck an epiphany in me. After that I wrote Illuminate in one night, cried myself to sleep, waited one more night to proofread it, and then published it. Illuminate was an AU to the first three fics in the series, and it was a fic about grief and mourning. Spoiler alert: I straight up killed Gakushuu in that fic. And somehow that was what I needed.

I quite literally killed my first fic - I upended the terrible ending I hated from Books - everything I had been uncertain about at first? I killed it. Plot points didn't fit my original plans? Killed it. (When I reread the death scene, I... honestly think I was unnecessarily cruel. I must have really been out of my mind when I wrote it, hah!)

And then I wrote myself a love story about missing it, grieving it, and finally letting go of it. It was heart wrenching for me - I made Gakuhou cry about what he lost, what could have been, what he realized he loved, and at the end of it all he could say "I love you and I can move on from you." And I did!

Illuminate (Rewrite)

Illuminate Rewrite, one year later, was me revisiting Illuminate to reflect on myself where I've come with this series. I actually just swapped the places of two paragraphs to change the mood at the end for something more contemplative. I elaborated a bit more on this in my notes for Rewrite, so I won't repeat them here.

Honestly, I still have a hard time coming back to reread Illuminate even after the whole debacle has happened. I attached a lot of emotions through my journey with this, and revisiting it each time takes quite a bit out of me.

Addendum

Addendum was just me having fun! After Illuminate, I managed to reconcile my feelings with the fic series. I was finally able to mark Books as complete and move on from it, and afterwards I wrote a fun little au sequel to Illuminate so that Gakushuu can live again. I could creatively expand on ideas and just do... whatever! It's more of a loose connection of plot points than a real fic, honestly.

Addendum follows Gakushuu in a future hundreds of years later, after every human who he's once known in Books has died. And... he moves on! Gets a job, makes friends, lives his life, and most importantly move on.

I chose to publish in a separate collection, however, because it was an incomplete story and I didn’t want to have a half-complete fic tacked on to what I have settled in my heart as a complete fic collection.

And that’s about it! <3

[constellationsatnight]

rainy days

       One Shot.

      oliver wood x female reader

                                      @marauder-exe​ prompt list

     56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”           89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

  Summary: you spend the day with your boyfriend Oliver.

  Warnings: just fluff i guess?? mentions of sex kinda?? swearing maybe?

         You loved rainy days. Even before Hogwarts, it always made you happy, the light sound of the water tapping on the window. It was the perfect time to read a book, or watch a movie, with a fuming cup of tea, and nothing would make you happier. And now that you had started going out with your boyfriend, you loved them even more, it was the only days that he couldn't possibly go out on the Quidditch pitch. Oliver, your boyfriend, was the captain of the Gryffindor's team, and took his role with an exemplary seriousness and devotion, some would say obsession (you might agree on that), wich made you proud, but also reduced your time together by much. So when you woke up to the first weekend of November, the wind was making the windows shake, and if it wasn't for your watch you wouldn't have believed it was day already, the sky was gray and a rainstorm was starting.

 You stretched in your bed, looking at the ceiling, and smiled softly, you had caught up with all your homework yesterday, so today was all about relaxing, and this time, with your boyfriend. The first match of the season was next week, and you had barely seen him in two weeks, his attention completely on the strategic plays he was working on. You weren't so bothered, you enjoyed some alone time, and as much as he would insist that you stayed with him while he did some strategy work, your interest in Quidditch was very limited, and you knew he'd work better on his own.

You stepped up, the cold air wrapping around your legs, and shivered, quickly taking some loose jeans, and changing in a big sweater. The dorm was empty, wich seemed normal since it was already 10 a.m., and your dormmates were probably already in the library, working, as you had done until the wee hours of the morning. You only put some socks on, it was a habit, you just walked around in socks all the time, in summer as in winter, wich resulted to ice cold feet, all the time.

    You quickly got down the stairs and stepped out of the common room, jogging a little down to get to the Great hall. You barged through the doors, the tables weren't very full, most people had finished eating and were discussing or working on the tables. You quickly scanned the faces before spotting Oliver, sitting next to Percy and the Weasley twins, he seemed annoyed. You started to make your way over them, and couldn't help but grin as Oliver's face lit up, seeing you.  

      'Hey guys' you dropped on the bench, next to Oliver. 'What's up with the mourning?' you looked at Oliver, who was visibly gloomy.

       'We should have been practising today.' Fred grinned, obviously not so sad about not having to fly for two hours in the cold.

       'Your boyfriend is crushed.' George added, the same grin on his face.

 You shook your head chuckling as Oliver snicked his arm around you, hiding his face in your neck. You ran your hand in his hair, stroking it slowly.

       'Well, it's a great time to catch on your homework' Percy stared all of them down.

       'I'm all caught up personally, I have the entire day free.' you smiled as Oliver pulled away, his hand catching yours, and resting on his thigh.

 You grinned, finally seeing your boyfriend's face, he smiled back, leaning closer.

       'Hi you.' he whispered almost on your lips.

       'Hi.” you replied even closer, and you fell into a soft kiss.

 You pulled away, still smiling.

       'We can have the day all to ourselves' you got back on the subject.

       'Hmmm. Sounds pretty good.” he put his head back on your shoulder, closing his eyes.

       'You didn't sleep last night?' it wasn't that much of a question, more of a scowl. He smirked, not answering as you rolled your eyes.

 You continued to talk with the Weasley's, eating your breakfast, until Oliver stood up, forcing himself to get out of your embrace.

        'I'm going to shower, I'll see you in my room?' he pecked your cheek and you nodded, gazing at him as he went out of the hall.

   You finished eating, and leaving the twins, who were trying to elaborate some new prank, you made your way to the Gryffindor common room. The fire was roaring, providing warmness to the room, and contrasted with the cold and rainy wind outside. You quickly went up to Oliver's room, wich was still empty. You smiled a little, taking your jeans off and slipping inside the covers. They were still cold, but the soft cushions made you sleepy again, since you hadn't gotten that much rest either. You could smell Oliver's scent, making you feel comfy and relaxed. The door barged open five minutes later, and your boyfriend came in, his hair still humid, and the hot water seemed to have exhausted him even more.

 He smiled at the sight of you curled in his covers, and gave you a small peck on the lips before stripping out of his pants.

       'Hey cutie pie.' he whispered as he got into bed, pulling you close to him, cuddling.

       'You smell good' you mumbled, your eyes closed and your face against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you. 'For once.” you added, smirking and pulling yourself closer to him.

  He made an obfuscated noise, suddenly pulling out his embrace and rolling over, his back facing you as you laughed at his pettiness. But as he rolled he took the cover with him, the cold air hitting you.

       'Oliver!' you scowled, 'Give me back the covers!' you tried pulling it off him, unsuccessfully.

       'No' he smirked, making a human burrito of himself.

       'If you steal the blankets I'm going to put my cold feet on you.' you said seriously.

   His only response was to laugh, but little did he know; his legs were not rolled in the covers, giving you easy access to them. You sneaked your feet under it and brushed them around his warm body, making him cry out and roll himself in a ball, ensuring the warmness around him. He ended up laughing with you and rolled back to face you, pulling the blankets over both of you. You smiled at each other as he pulled you back in his torso, pecking the top of your head.

      'I love you' he whispered in your hair, making you smile against his chest.

      'I love you too' you mumbled back.

 The rain continued to pour over the castle, as you spent the entire morning cuddling in Oliver's bed, talking a bit about what was going on, and making out heavily. The windows were covered in a light mist, a trace of the warmness of your bodies, now innocently tangled together. You felt amazing, happy to have Oliver all for yourself for so long.  It was around one in the afternoon when you finally got out of bed, to go have lunch in the Great Hall. As you couldn't find your sweater, it had been  thrown across the room at some point, you sneaked into Oliver's Quidditch jumper, wich was so big you had to roll it up your wrists, and it got to your mid thighs. Your boyfriend smiled at the sight, as you put back your knee high socks, after all it was really cold, and you went to check your reflection, curious about Oliver's fond reaction. You smiled, you did look cute, and Oliver sneaked behind you, his arms wrapping you.

      'I don't remember having ever this many hickeys.' he chuckled, watching the two of you in his mirror. 'But I don't mind' and he kissed your neck, right on the purplest mark, as you chuckled. He scooped your hand and pulled you with him, getting out of the room.

    'Oliver! I need to put my jeans on!' you whined, trying to loosen his grip on your hand.

He pouted as you hurridly went back to the room and sliped in your pants.

   As you got to the table, still holding hands, you sat down at you usual seat, the twins already there discussing with their younger brother, Ron, and his friends, Hermione and Harry, the later being in the Quidditch team too. You sat down, a small grin still on your face.

     'Well well, having fun Wood?' George teased.

     'Cancelling practice to snog your girlfriend Captain? You should be ashamed.' Fred added as they high fived under the table.      

  Oliver glared at them as he put food in his plate, and you chuckled.

      'We might have something for your neck y/n.' Fred smirked, winking.

      'Shut it Weasley. I'm not touching anything one of you has had your hands on.' you pointed at them as Oliver pulled you closer, glaring at Fred. He got jealous so easily it made you laugh.

       'Oh I see it wasn't only one sided!' George exclaimed as he saw Oliver's neck too.

       'Why do we sit with them?' Oliver asked you, not so sarcastically.

 You burst into laughter, feeling relieved and calm. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

        -

i officially suck at this