#and then it is silent for THAT split second

[hellodropbear]

17520 hours.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter (ish)

angst. part of the 'it's time.' series

mapi struggles on the two year anniversary of her best friend's death. Ingrid is right there to help her but she doesn't know how to let her in.

this is a lot more angst than i'm used to posting but i hope you like it.

it was hard to write and partially based on personal experiences so i apologise if it's not very good.

also decided to put it all in one part because i couldn't find a good place to split it!

i hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~

Two years is a long time. 

Two years is 104 weeks, two years is 730 days. Two birthdays, two christmases, two easters. Two summers and two winters, two new years and two anniversaries. 

Two years is a long time to miss someone. It should be enough time to have moved on. 

But when their daughter is in your care, that seems almost impossible. 

It was everyday that Mapi thought about her best friend, sometimes looking at her daughter and only seeing his eyes staring right back at her. 

The day was one that the Spaniard dreaded, the days becoming quicker and quicker in the lead up, the night before slowing right down as she crawled into bed, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep. 

Isabel was almost two. Still too young to understand that there was anything out of the ordinary in her life, anything that raised any questions. Even if Mapi tried explaining, she was sure that her daughter wouldn’t have the first idea what anything meant. 

She wouldn’t understand that Mapi wasn’t supposed to have her even though she gave birth. She wouldn’t understand that her parents had died because her Mami was right there in front of her. 

It was just a part of parenthood that Mapi had no idea how to conquer. She knew everything else, having spent hours and hours with her head buried in countless baby books, countless books that discussed grief and sadness in children. 

But Isabel wasn’t sad, she wasn’t grieving because she never knew Luis or Isabel. 

There were no books about how to tell a kid about her dead parents. It was a taboo topic, of sorts, one that many stand-in parents were reluctant to discuss with their child, hoping that they would just believe that they were their real parents. It was a bridge most people decided to cross when they had to, not at any point earlier than completely necessary. 

Mapi didn’t want that, she wanted her daughter to know who Luis was, who Isabel was. 

She just didn’t know when or how she should introduce the idea of them. 

But the second anniversary of their death left Mapi in a numb state, entirely torn up on the inside as she tried to decide whether she would take her daughter with her on her annual graveyard visit. It was Mapi’s time to chat to Luis alone, no interruptions, no distractions. 

Because while Isabel lost her parents, Mapi lost her lifelong best friend. 

She lost Luis, who meant everything and more to her. Luis who had moved to Barcelona a few months after her, Luis who watched every single one of her games, the first person to text her after a hard loss or an impressive win. 

She still hadn’t got out of the habit of checking her phone after a match, pain settling deep in her chest as her screen remained bare, his notification forever absent. 

It wasn’t a question of where she would be on the second anniversary. She knew exactly where she would be sat and exactly how she would feel as she stared at that obnoxiously large gravestone, big bold carvings of his name, his date of birth and date of death. 

‘Loving husband, son and friend.’ it read. Not father. ‘A man who lit up the lives of everyone he met.’ It was an understatement, Mapi had thought.

She had spent hours there when Isabel was a newborn, cradling her tiny body in her arms as she sat and silently stared at those few words. Loneliness ate her up, wishing for nothing other than her best friend. 

But her daughter had lit up her world as everything else was crumbling down, single handedly keeping the two of them afloat as Mapi grew tired, the sheer weight of her emotions almost drowning them. 

Isabel was an infant, too young to know anything was different. She was completely enraptured by her mother, smiling and laughing everyday they spent together in their small and stuffy apartment, completely unaware of the anguish that her mother was going through. 

It seemed fitting on the second anniversary of their death, only a couple months before her second birthday that Isabel would finally visit their gravestones. 

Even the thought of the graveyard made her feel uncomfortable, Mapi’s skin crawling at the thought of her best friend beneath her, cold and still. Someone she loved, such a warm and constant presence in her life, lying right there in the ground. 

It made her feel sick. Sick with anger because he was gone too soon. With grief because she never got to say goodbye. With guilt because she got to have the one thing he had always wanted. But mostly sick with the heartbreaking realisation that he was down there, in the flesh. 

Luis was dead. 

~~~~~~

It wasn’t a cold day, but she shivered as she stepped out of the car, the cool breeze prickling her skin as she unclipped a groggy Isabel from the back seat. 

“Where are we, Mami?” 

She looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, probably expecting to have woken up in her bed. 

Mapi just hugged her, not trusting her voice to not break if she tried to respond. 

Despite only visiting twice before, the graveyard was familiar, she knew exactly how to get to Luis’ plot. She walked with purpose, not looking at the grave as she laid down the rug, only facing her best friend’s name once she was sat down. 

“This is your Papi, Is.”

Saying it out loud, her daughter in her arms. His daughter in her arms. It felt unusual, it felt uncomfortable. She could feel Isabel looking up at her, the confusion that radiated from the toddler’s body. 

She loosened her arms as Isabel wriggled herself free, waddling towards the stone and placing her hand on it. 

“Papi?”

She looked back at Mapi, a question in her eyes. She was met with tears slipping down her Mami’s face. 

“Mami.”

In an instant, she was back in Mapi’s arms, reaching up and wiping away the tears. 

“No sad, Mami. Brave like lion.”

Mapi nodded, a watery chuckle falling from her mouth. 

“I’m going to talk to your Papi, Is. Is that ok?”

Isabel nodded, settling herself on the rug with her lion toy as Mapi stood up, walking closer to the stone and placing her hand on his name, crouching down so it was at eye level. 

“Meet your daughter, Lu. She has your eyes, you know. She’s funny and smart and entirely the light of my life. I love her so much. More than I ever loved you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, really. I promise. I promise I’ve tried my best and I hope you’re proud of her. I hope you’re proud of me.”

She bit her lip, unsuccessfully biting back her own tears. 

“It’s been two years, Lu. I don’t know how I have made it through two whole years without you, really. It’s been so… hard. I still expect to see you, to hear from you. Sometimes I think I do, only to realise that it’s not possible. Because you’re dead. You weren’t supposed to die, not so soon. You were supposed to watch your daughter grow, I was supposed to be her really cool aunt that she would go to when you argued, to give her that tattoo when you said no. ”

She let out a strangled chuckle, trying to alleviate some of the pain she felt. They had discussed Mapi’s relationship with the child at length, knowing that the centre back would love the child as her own because she was always with Luis, she would always be around the couple as they raised their child. That wouldn’t have changed if she wasn’t biologically Mapi’s. 

Back then, Mapi had thought she would have been fine with the situation. She knew the baby wasn’t really hers, she knew that she would still be able to watch the baby grow up, that she would still be able to love her. 

It wasn’t a problem that had actually materialised, but they hadn’t expected both Isabel and Luis to die right before she was born. 

“Now I have to discipline her, Luis, which is the one thing I didn’t want to have to do. But she’s such a good girl, she is so intelligent. Like you, really. She knows how I feel all the time, she definitely inherited your emotional intelligence. She loves everyone too, just like you. I was never supposed to be a mother, was I? You were always the paternal one out of the two of us, you were the one who deserved a child. But I am the one that got her.”

She swallows roughly, biting her lip. 

“Oh Luis, you would have loved her so much.”

Very quickly, she is overcome by her tears, collapsing down into herself in sobs. 

It’s all too much, it’s all too hard. 

It’s unfair that her best friend left her, that she was left alone to grow up. Growing up was something they had discussed at length when they were younger. Obviously they were never going to be married, they’d never live together. 

They had dreamt of adjoining houses, doors that connected their backyards. They were going to grow up together, the two of them. Luis would have his wife and a gaggle of kids, Mapi would have her wife and a pack of cats. They’d have their own families but their lives would be so closely connected because they loved each other in the purest way possible. 

A childhood connection, one that grew and grew into adulthood. 

One that was supposed to last a lifetime. 

It did last a lifetime, it lasted Luis’ lifetime. Just not Mapi’s. 

She calmed herself down after a couple minutes, Isabel unsurprisingly noticing her mother’s sadness and crawling into her arms as a source of comfort. 

They sat there for hours, an easy silence settling upon the pair. Mapi was deep in thought, Isabel knew it wasn’t the time for play, it wasn’t the time for her mindless babbling. 

It had been a couple hours when she heard the footsteps, people approaching silently. 

She hadn’t expected to see anyone there, but upon reflection she realised she had been naive - it was the anniversary after all. 

“Maria?”

She hadn’t heard Ane’s voice in two years. The last conversation they had was full of empty promises, of visits to Zaragoza that Mapi knew she would not go on. Promises that they would get to know the child that was growing in Mapi’s stomach, promises that they wouldn’t lose touch. 

They had lost touch, Mapi unable to visit Luis’ home whenever she returned to her parents. Ane and Mikel were in too much pain to see the child, not sure how they could face it. 

“Ane.” She stood up, facing the older woman and allowing herself to be enveloped in her arms. 

“It’s so good to see you, Maria.”

Mapi could only nod, her eyes still watery and her face still red. It had been a long morning. 

She turned to face Mikel, who was staring straight forward, his eyes only softening as Mapi grabbed his hand and kissed it. 

“I have missed you both.” She smiled softly. It was a sad smile, but a real one. 

They were Luis’ parents, of course, but they were her pseudo parents whenever she needed them. They were so close, especially when Mapi and Luis were in their teenage years. 

“Is this… is that her?”

Ane looked down at the curly headed girl, her eyes softening as she watched her play with her toys. 

“Isabel Luisa.” Mapi nodded. “I thought today would be a good day for her to come visit.”

The older woman looked down at the child adoringly, smiling as she looked up at the unfamiliar adults. 

It was a bit awkward for a few moments, as Mapi, Mikel and Ane sat in an uncomfortable silence. 

Mapi excused herself, moving away to the bathrooms but leaving her belongings by the grave. She knew she wanted to talk to them, that they wanted to talk to her. 

She also knew they needed some time alone before they would be able to. 

But she did return, sitting down on her rug right beside the older couple. 

And Ane spoke, her voice soft, her voice sad. 

She told Mapi how grateful she is, how glad she is that she took Isabel in, that she didn’t even question it. How grateful she is that Mapi did everything to make her son happy all throughout his life, from buying him an extra chocolate bar when they were children to carrying his baby for him when he and his wife were unable to do it. 

Ane told her that she had given him his one dream, fatherhood. It was just unlucky that he wasn’t alive to live it. 

There were tears in her eyes as she told her how grateful Luis would be. How much he loved her. How happy he would be that his daughter ended up with the Spaniard, the person he probably trusted the most in the world. 

Mapi nodded her appreciation, sitting with the two adults for a while longer before Isabel grew tired, the sun falling down, the afternoon turning into evening. 

She said a tearful goodbye, collecting her things and standing, Mikel standing up as well and walking her to her car. 

“She looks just like him.” His words were soft, softer than Mapi had ever heard him. “I have thought about you every day, Maria. You and her. I am so relieved to see you here because I worried so much about you. I worried that you wouldn’t be ok, that you’d not be able to raise her. Not because I doubted you, but because I know how hard it is to lose people.”

Mapi nodded softly, looking up at the man. 

“I don’t doubt that you have had a hard time, but I also don’t doubt that you’re a good Mami. A great Mami to this little girl.”

“Thanks, Mikel.”

He nodded, that was all he needed to say. 

It was all he needed to say for Mapi to tear up again, picking Isabel up and holding her in his space. He looked at the Spaniard, who nodded, before placing a soft kiss on her head. 

“Come visit, Maria. When you come home. Bring the little one too.”

Mapi nodded, a smile on her face. 

This time, it wasn’t an empty promise. 

~~~~~~

She got home to an empty apartment. Quiet, dark. She could have texted Ingrid, the Norwegian likely would have come over in an instant, her warm arms right there for endless comfort. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to open her phone, couldn’t bring herself to stand up and walk over to the kitchen table where it was sitting. Instead, she stayed seated, relaxed back on the sofa with tears tracking down her face as she stared blankly at the wall. 

It wasn’t often that she was left alone with her thoughts. Not when she had a chatty toddler to look after, a loving girlfriend who spent every day trying to make Mapi happy. It worked, because Ingrid did make her happy, happier than she’d ever been. 

And Isabel also made her happy, she was the best thing in the Spaniard’s life. 

So why did she feel so sad? Why was Luis’ death still so hard for her to process?

Two years felt like too long to still be so upset about it all. She wondered when it would go away. If it would ever go away. 

His death was something that Mapi didn’t think she would ever be able to comprehend. She was able to live her life as normal again, plastering a smile to cover up the mess that she was on the inside. But it had taken such a long time to even get to that point, despite her daughter’s positive presence.  

Everyone knew how long it had taken. Mapi didn’t think anyone really knew how broken up she still felt about it. A part of her was embarrassed, embarrassed that she still hadn’t gotten over it. Was still yet to move on. 

Even as she thought it over, progress seemed so impossible. The thought of moving on like so many people had told her to do made her feel sick, because how was she supposed to move on when he was everything to her?

She didn’t sleep that night, barely able to smile as she fed Isabel and put her to bed. The toddler knew something was wrong, of course, a frown on her face as Mapi put her down for the evening. 

Isabel had seen Mapi sad before. Lots of times, really, but her mother usually tried her best to hide it from her. She would push the emotions down and far away as she interacted with her kid but Isabel was so perceptive, so in tune with Mapi’s emotions. 

She knew whenever Mapi was sad. It made her feel sad too. 

But Isabel never would have known that her mother was sitting in the same spot on the sofa all night, her mind a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions, resisting any rest that tried to fall upon her. 

She wasn’t sure if she regretted telling Ingrid that she wanted to be alone for the day, that her girlfriend shouldn’t come over like she usually did. The Spaniard just didn’t know if it would make it better or worse. She didn’t know how to alleviate herself from some of the pain she felt. 

She realised she didn’t know much at all. 

Mapi watched as the sun rose outside, the night becoming morning. The new day arriving along with the sounds of birds chirping, the city happily waking up as the clouds had gone away and the sun had finally come out. 

Two years and one day. 

Her daughter’s whining was audible from her spot in the main room as she woke up. Her daughter’s whining was probably the only thing that would have successfully moved her from her seat. 

“Mami!” Isabel frowned at the sight of her mother as her door opened, dark bags beneath her red and puffy eyes. 

“Good morning, my girl.”

She smiled weakly, kneeling beside her toddler and raking her hand through her hair as Isabel became more aware of her surroundings. 

It was a slow morning; a slow rise from bed and a slow breakfast. The toddler was still in her pyjamas by 10, her hair and teeth remained unbrushed. 

It was no surprise that Ingrid was on the other side of the door at 11, Isabel opening the door when she heard the knocks. The Norwegian had a bright smile on her face as she scooped Isabel up into her arms and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“Mami, Ingrid.” She pointed over at where Mapi was standing, and it was one glance at the Spaniard that told Ingrid that despite her promise that she’d be alright, her girlfriend was definitely not ok. Her smile faded and she frowned slightly, concern etched deep into her features, 

Her steps towards Mapi were tentative, unsure how to approach the situation. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t know Mapi, of course she knew her. She just didn’t know about Mapi’s grief. She had heard from teammates that she hadn’t dealt with the death well, that she had locked herself up in her house for months, over a year. But it was one topic that the Spaniard avoided at all costs, a master of changing the subject whenever it would come up. 

Ingrid never felt like it was her place to pry. 

But now, seeing her girlfriend so… broken, so depleted, it made her regret not being more insistent in those times. Because maybe if they spoke about it then, she would know how to help. 

But in that moment, she had no idea what to do. 

“Maria…” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve missed you.”

Mapi didn’t reply, but she could feel Ingrid’s free arm wrapping around her and she immediately clung onto her girlfriend. She was desperate and Ingrid was a lifeline. 

“Alright. Isabel, do you want to go play with Bagheera for a minute?”

The child nodded as she was placed back on the floor, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge where the cat was likely waking up from her nap. 

Mapi, still clinging onto the Norwegian’s arm, frowned slightly, still not willing herself to make eye contact with Ingrid. 

“You’re not ok, Mapi, are you?”

She didn’t nod, she didn’t shake her head. Her mouth remained completely sealed. 

But Ingrid knew her well enough to recognise the tears that filled up her eyes, the way her hand trembled against the Norwegian’s skin. 

The brunette softened, her worries confirmed; leaving Mapi alone for the entire previous day was probably one of the worst promises she had ever made. She shouldn’t have agreed to it, not when she knew that Mapi would need her. 

“Ok. It’s ok. You’ll be ok, Maria. I just want you to sit down for me.”

She led her around to the other side of the kitchen bench, sitting down in a seat right beside her and wrapping her arm around the Spaniard’s shoulders. 

The Norwegian could feel herself becoming more and more anxious at Mapi’s almost catatonic state, entirely unequipped and unsure how to deal with it. 

It took half an hour of speaking to Mapi with no response for Ingrid to realise that she couldn’t do anything. A heartbreaking realisation of sorts, but one that she needed to have in order to help her.  

She knew she should be able to do this herself, she wished that it didn’t have to be so hard. But Alexia had been there before Ingrid, Alexia had been there for Mapi during Isabel’s infancy, right after she lost Luis. 

So she sent the Spanish midfielder a quick text, alerting her of the centre back’s state.

She felt guilty as the relief surged through her, Alexia assuring her that she would be there soon. 

However, neither the Spaniard nor the Norwegian could see the toddler’s tears, her quiet whimpers of anxiety and upset. 

Isabel didn’t like seeing Mapi upset, not at all. She was a happy person, usually, a permanent smile on her face, energetic as she played with the toddler. 

But she sat and stroked Bagheera, silent tears streaming down her little face with one thought on her mind. Why was Mami so sad all of a sudden? And why did it make her feel so miserable too?

Alexia arrived in a flurry, her heart dropping at the sight of her friend as she rushed towards her, immediately pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“Maria, Maria. Come on, please. Say something.” Her voice sounded urgent and Ingrid could only watch, worry and confusion clear on her face. 

With no response, Alexia leaned back, staring straight into Mapi’s eyes. She could read the centre back like a book and her eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“Ale.”

She frowned, tilting her head at the blonde in front of her. 

“Mapi, breathe. Take a deep breath in.”

Ingrid slipped out of the room as Mapi followed Alexia, breathing in and out slowly until she collapsed into Alexia’s arms, the tears spilling from her eyes easily as she reconnected with reality. 

It was her reaction to sadness, Mapi had realised a few months ago. Disconnecting from the world around her, unable to move, speak. She could barely hear anything, see anything until it was right in front of her face. 

She couldn’t feel anything either, but that was a more common response, something that she couldn’t be pulled out of so easily. 

She hated it, more than anything. Because when she was pulled from her state of disconnect, she felt nothing but terror, an overwhelming sadness that came rushing back as soon as that trap door opened. 

It was like her body was trying to protect her from feeling, the emotions just too much. It would just shut down until she was numb, not really registering that at some point she just had to feel it because there was no way of getting away from those emotions. 

Alexia had seen it all before and she was usually the one to grab Mapi, to shake her out of her headspace and bring her back to reality. 

It was terrifying for her too, especially the first time she witnessed it. 

“Ale.”

Mapi’s sobs had been reduced to quiet whimpers into Alexia’s shoulder after a while, her mind throwing itself through all her thoughts, all her emotions. Luis was gone, Luis had been gone for two years. She has his daughter, her Isabel who she loves so much. Ingrid was here but now she is not, where has Ingrid gone? Alexia, right in front of her, fear visible in the midfielder’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

Luis was gone, Isabel was hers. Ingrid was gone, Alexia was here.

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia.

Her four people. 

She felt her breath hitch, Alexia’s arms tightening around her. 

She felt the tears dripping down from her eyes, saturating the fabric of Alexia’s shirt, the wet fabric now uncomfortable to rest her face on. 

She could hear Alexia’s breathing, the sound of her heart racing. 

Feel Alexia’s arms around her, the floor beneath her feet and the chair that she was sitting on. 

Taste the salty tears. Tears of grief, fear, confusion. 

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia. 

“Ale, where is Isabel?”

~~~~~~

Ingrid slipped out of the room easily, not needed as Alexia dealt with Mapi’s overwhelming emotions. 

Mapi’s cries were audible from the main room she found herself in, wincing as she walked towards Isabel who was still stroking Bagheera, her movements fluid and repetitive, a consistent cycle that easily could have rubbed a groove into the cat’s black fur. 

The Norwegian couldn’t see the tears that had stained the little girl's face, still spilling from her eyes no matter how hard she tried to blink them away. 

But her shoulders shook unnaturally, a shuddering inhale that had Ingrid picking up her pace and sitting down right beside Isabel and pulling her into her arms as soon as she noticed how upset she was. 

Silently, she placed a thoughtful kiss on the crown of her head, her heart breaking at the silent tears, at Isabel's defeated demeanour. 

No toddler should know how to cry silently. 

"What's wrong, Is?"

At her words, Isabel promptly spun around in Ingrid's arms, collapsing into her and crying audibly, her entire body weight relying on the Norwegian to be held.

"Mami sad, Ingrid. I'm sad too!"

Her voice was broken and Ingrid’s heart dropped at the sound of it. 

It wasn’t hard to leave, understanding that Isabel needed to get out of the apartment, that she needed to be away from the inconsolable Mapi who could still be heard crying in the kitchen. 

So she left, slipping out the front door and carrying Isabel down to the street, holding her tight as she cried, walking over to the park. 

By the time they reached their familiar bench, her cries had weakened, only releasing quiet puffs of air every few moments as she relished in the comfort of Ingrid’s arms. 

The Norwegian sat down, loosening her grip on the toddler and manoeuvring her so that they were looking right at each other. Ingrid’s frown was light and her hands were soft as she reached out and wiped the tears away from Isabel’s wet cheeks, cupping her face when she was done. 

Words failed the defender as she looked at the toddler, her uncanny resemblance to Mapi heightened in her upset state. 

She matched her mother perfectly, Ingrid thought, trying to avoid that voice in the back of her head that she would never be enough. Their smiles were identical and their laughs sounded the same. They both carried the same exasperated sigh, the confused frown and those doe eyes that were impossible to say no to. But they carried the same tears, the same cries. 

Mapi’s emotions were often reflected in her daughter, whether it was happiness, excitement, fear, sadness. Isabel was smart - emotionally intelligent. It was like she always knew exactly how her Mami was feeling, even if she wasn’t old enough to understand why, to understand what those feelings were. 

This was one of those times when she had no idea what this sadness meant. She could clearly feel the sadness, feel her mother was sad. But she wasn’t even two yet, how could she possibly be expected to process those emotions like someone years older?

Ingrid wasn’t bad with kids either. There were heaps of children in her family; cousins, nieces, nephews. She’d been there throughout all of their childhoods, able to comfort them and soothe them enough until their parents came back. 

But Isabel’s sadness was completely new territory, there was no waiting for Mapi to arrive because Ingrid knew she wouldn’t. It was up to her to calm down the child but for the first time, she was completely stumped. 

She didn’t know what she could say to calm her down. She didn’t know how Isabel felt, she was too young to be able to express her emotions, to talk through what she was feeling. 

But this wasn’t a tantrum or a small cry over a minor convenience. This was a meltdown, caused by her overwhelming emotions that she couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“Ingrid…” 

She spoke quietly, leaning into the comfort of the Norwegian’s hands on her face. 

Ingrid nodded, encouraging the child to continue. 

“Why my Papi a rock?” 

The Norwegian’s face softened, her heart sinking as she tried to subtly release an exhale that she had been holding in. 

Unsure what she was going to say, she opened her mouth. But Isabel was too quick, raising her voice another time. 

“Why Mami sad at rock?”

“Is…” 

The child looked up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears, pure innocence reflected in her eyes, her features. 

“Isabel. Your Papi, he’s not a rock. Your Papi was a person, a very good person.”

The child frowned, confusion etched deep into her features. Ingrid thought she seemed entirely too concerned for a not quite two year old. 

“He died before you were born though, Is. Mami is sad today because she misses him. She misses your Papi.”

She doubted Isabel would even understand what she was trying to say. She didn’t know when children were supposed to understand the concept of death, the concept of life. 

Definitely not before the age of two. 

So Ingrid decided to try to move away from the topic, her new goal just to bring a smile back onto Isabel’s face. It was the least she could do, really. 

“But it’s ok, Is, because you have Mami and you have me and you have Alexia and you have Leila and Patri and Pina! You love all of those people don’t you?”

Isabel nodded easily, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“I love them so much. Especially Mami. And you, Ingrid!” 

Ingrid chuckled, her laughs a superficial cover of the anxieties and concern she felt. Because Isabel was right here calming down in her arms, but she had no idea of the state of Mapi, she had no idea how long this happiness would last. 

“And everyone I just mentioned loves you too. And your Papi, he loves you as well but he loves you from somewhere else. You have people everywhere loving you!” 

Ingrid beamed, trying to make the conversation feel more lighthearted. It was a successful attempt, apparently, because Isabel replicated her smile and turned herself around, sitting back down in Ingrid’s lap and leaning into her chest. 

“I love you Ingrid.”

The Norwegian could only smile sadly, planting a thoughtful kiss on Isabel’s head. 

~~~~~~

Mapi’s head was a mess, Alexia had realised. Her emotions all over the place, her priorities set in a weird and confusing line. 

The tears had eventually ran out and she was clearly exhausted, her head in Alexia’s lap as the blonde spoke softly. The familiar Spanish was a comfort to Mapi’s ears, the words meaningful, flooded with emotion.

“You need to worry about what is important right now,” Alexia had murmured, her hands combing through Mapi’s hair. It was reminiscent of how the centre back calmed her own daughter, soft hands and quiet words. 

It was reminiscent of how Mapi’s own mother used to soothe her, nostalgic and comforting. 

“Luis is important, of course he is. But he’s gone, Maria. If you’re going to worry about anything it has to be yourself, it has to be Isabel. You have to think about Ingrid, how to prioritise your relationship on top of everything else.”

Alexia shook her head at that, sighing almost silently. 

“Ingrid will try not to let you focus on her, but you have to try. You have to show her how much you love her like I know you do. That she’s your person.”

Mapi looked up at Alexia, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned. 

“She… she doesn’t know that?”

“She does know that, of course she does. But sometimes you need to put her first. Sometimes she needs you the most. Sometimes, she needs you more than Isabel does. She wants to know all of you, Mapi, even this part. She wants to understand your grief, to know what to do when you are having a hard time. She wants me to look after Isabel while she comforts you because she loves you. You are her person, just like she is yours.”

Mapi frowned again, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fill up her eyes. Because Ingrid was everything to her, of course she was. She was the person that Mapi loved more than anyone, the first person she had ever really and truly fallen in love with. But Alexia was right. More often than not, her attention was pulled away from Ingrid, Isabel making an appearance. Maybe she was hungry, thirsty, tired. She could have been bored or overexcited or maybe she just couldn’t sleep. 

Because Isabel was her baby girl, her last connection to Luis; her last connection to her person before Ingrid. 

It was somewhat painful for Mapi to consider how these small things would have hurt the Norwegian, how they would have all built up over time, building Ingrid’s thick skin, the impenetrable strength and sometimes superficial happiness that the Spaniard wished to break down.

“What do I do, Ale?”

Her voice broke and Alexia pulled her upwards, straight into a hug. 

“You talk to her.”

Mapi nodded, falling back down to her lying position on the sofa, the exhaustion of the day overcoming her despite it only being 12pm. 

Alexia could tell the exact moment she fell asleep, her breathing evening out and her body finally relaxing. 

The midfielder had expected something like this to happen today. She knew that Luis’ death was a date engraved in her friend’s mind, one that could never pass without any upset, any thought. 

It was only the second anniversary so of course it would bring up all of the emotions that were left and ignored two years ago, Mapi’s grief pushed away by the little baby Isabel. The same thing had happened a year ago and the midfielder knew it would happen again in another year. 

Only she hoped she wouldn’t be needed in a years time, similar to how she had hoped that she wasn’t required this year. 

She had been somewhat surprised and just a little bit disappointed when she received Ingrid’s text, having hoped that Mapi finally would have spoken to her girlfriend about it, that Ingrid would have expected it and known exactly what she needed to do. It was abundantly clear, however, that it was not the case. 

Ingrid’s terrified and bewildered facial expression was one piece of evidence, but so was Mapi’s silence, her heavy breathing and her complete refusal to speak while the Norwegian was in the room. 

She was disappointed, really. She felt guilt overcome her as she watched Ingrid slip out of the room, a look of pure defeat written all over her face as she accepted that there was nothing she could do to help Mapi. 

Mapi who was an emotional wreck, who needed support and who just needed to let everything out for once. 

Mapi, who needed her girlfriend’s comfort but didn’t know how to ask for it, couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. 

Alexia knew that the Norwegian would have given it to her without a second thought. 

It was all she could think about as Ingrid walked back through the door, Isabel’s hand tight in hers as her eyes scanned the room and landed on the sleeping Mapi in Alexia’s lap. 

Isabel inspected her quietly, satisfied with her sleeping body on the sofa. She was with Alexia and Alexia made people happy. She was sure Mapi would be happy now, so she scampered out of the lounge and into the laundry where she knew Bagheera would be waiting. 

Ingrid was less convinced, sitting beside Alexia with concern written all over her face. 

“She’ll be alright.” Alexia whispered her words softly, an attempt to make the Norwegian feel better. She didn’t expect Ingrid’s eyes to fill up with tears, her head falling into her hands. 

“Why doesn’t she talk to me about any of this?”

Her voice sounded defeated, frustrated. Her watery eyes looked back up towards Alexia and the midfielder could easily see the anguish in her eyes. 

“She’s bad at talking about it, embarrassed by it. She doesn’t like to feel all these emotions so she just pushes them away. But they come back every now and again and she has no idea how to deal with it. I try telling her that it’s normal, she shouldn’t feel embarrassed but she doesn’t listen. It makes her feel weak, she said. You saw her earlier too, she just shuts down. I think it’s because she just doesn’t know what else she can do so she turns into a robot of sorts, on autopilot to get things done. And then someone will come and see straight through her and it’s like she breaks.”

Alexia’s eyes were watering, her hand coming to rest on Mapi’s head. 

“But she loves you so much, Ingrid. More than I’ve ever seen her love anyone before. I know she wants to talk to you about all this, she wishes she could just let it all out. We’ve discussed it before, what she could say, how she could say it. She’ll call me the next day and say she chickened out, she couldn’t bring herself to go through it all. It’s mentally exhausting, I think.  She used to be so confident in herself, she didn’t care about anything but her happiness and the happiness of the people around her. She was the person who would cheer everyone else up, make us smile and laugh. She’s still that person, that’s the one that we see everyday. But she never learnt how to grieve or how to let other people cheer her up and this is what happened because of it.”

Ingrid was quiet for a few moments, her eyes focussed on Mapi’s sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful, her golden brown hair falling over her face, completely covering her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. 

“Why didn’t you help her?���

She knew it wasn’t Alexia’s fault; she knew that the midfielder beside her would have done whatever she thought was right. But part of the Norwegian thought that if she had learned what to do with her emotions two years ago when Luis died, everything would be easier now. Everything would be easier for everyone. 

“She just wouldn’t let us. I regret it every day, Ingrid. ”

~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before Alexia left, leaving Ingrid with a sleeping Mapi and taking the almost two year old back to her house with her. 

They didn’t want Isabel to be able to understand what was going on, they didn’t want her to feel those sad emotions when she was entirely incapable of understanding why she suddenly felt so sad. 

So it was Ingrid’s face that Mapi woke up to, the familiar green piercing straight through her, a sad expression all over her face. 

“Ingrid.”

Her voice was hoarse, her words scratchy and her eyes swollen. It had been a difficult few hours and she felt entirely incapable of having the conversation that she knew Ingrid wanted to have. 

“I don’t know how… how do I even start?”

But it seemed she was wrong as Ingrid shook her head, her arms wrapping the Spaniard up in a tight hug as she sat up from her horizontal position. 

“No, you don’t need to. Not right now. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally and I don’t want to talk now. I want you to be ok, I want to make you feel ok.”

Mapi didn’t know it, but the Norwegian’s words were exactly what she needed. Ingrid was exactly what she needed. 

Her emotional perception, the unique ability she had to be so aware of how everyone felt at any given time. It was one of her qualities that Mapi loved the most, one of the things that was so intriguing, so alluring about the defender. 

“What can I do to make you feel ok?”

Mapi smiled weakly, trying to bite back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. It wasn’t just sadness this time, but gratitude, love. Because Ingrid was perfect even when the centre back knew she had been the opposite of that. And despite all of Mapi’s own personal flaws, Ingrid still loved her. 

And if everything else fell apart, Mapi knew that her love would be more than enough. 

“You being here makes me feel ok.”

Ingrid smiled into the embrace, only releasing the hug when Mapi’s grip on her loosened. 

“Isabel is at Alexia’s and she will be there all night. She shouldn’t be in this environment when you are so upset, not when she’s so young. So it’s just you and me, whatever you want to do.”

Mapi nodded easily, somewhat relieved that her daughter was away from all this. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

The evening was a slow one, relaxed and quiet in the calm apartment. They weaved around each other in the kitchen as they cooked with a practised ease, dinner cooked and plated up seamlessly. 

Conversation as they ate was minimal, the Spaniard clearly distracted and the Norwegian happy to focus on her own food. 

“I… I need to talk to you, Ingrid. Not right now, but soon. Maybe tomorrow. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say in a way that makes sense. It’s… hard for me, hard to talk about… it.”

The Norwegian’s attention was captured at the sound of Mapi’s voice, instantly nodding with a comforting smile on her face. 

“I know it’s hard. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to tell me anything.”

But the Spaniard disagreed, shaking her head quickly. 

“It’s not pressure, I want you to know everything.”

Ingrid’s forehead creased, her eyebrows drawing together as she frowned. 

“But why? Why do you want to go through it all again with yet another person if you don’t have to?”

It was Mapi’s turn to frown, her head shaking as she let out a quiet exhale. 

“I haven’t ever gone through everything with anyone. Alexia knows a lot, sure. I know she’s told you what she knows. I want you to know everything. Because I love you more than anything and for you to love me like that you have to know everything, you have to see all my faults, everything that I’m ashamed of.”

Ingrid stopped the tears from forming before they had a chance to materialise in her eyes, but Mapi could tell she was stopping herself from crying by the way her eyes blinked away the invisible tears. 

“What’s wrong?”

Her voice was incredibly soft, her Spanish lilt calming, comforting.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would change the way I love you. I couldn’t love you any more than I do and there’s nothing that will ever make me love you any less. I wish you would understand that sadness and grief isn’t a weakness or a fault, it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s natural yet it takes a completely different path in every single person. You’re not different, Maria. You’re not weak. The opposite of weak, really. I love you for who you are, because you are funny, you’re kind, you’re caring. You look after people and you’re an incredible mother. I love you because you are strong, one of the strongest people I have ever met. The love I have for you is not… despite anything, there’s nothing that I would change because you’re perfect. So sure, tell me everything because I will listen but it will not change a single thing. Don’t tell me that I can’t love you before I know because I do, so much.”

“Thank you.” Mapi sniffled, her voice thready as she nodded at Ingrid, her eyes dropping back down to her plate in front of her. 

It was exactly what she needed to hear. 

~~~~~~

“Mami!” 

Despite Ingrid’s protests in the kitchen, Isabel bounded into their bedroom, bouncing up onto the bed right beside a sleeping Mapi. 

“Isabel! I said not to wake her up!” 

Ingrid frowned from her spot at the bedroom door, her forehead creasing further at Isabel’s defiant expression. The toddler turned back towards Mapi, shaking her shoulder rapidly. 

“Mami! Mami!” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, releasing a loud sigh and shaking her head as the Spaniard rolled over, groaning as she opened her eyes. 

The past few days had been rough and Ingrid was sure Mapi hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep each day. The Norwegian was awoken constantly by the sound of her cries or her restless movements in the bed, but had stopped asking if she was ok after seeing the guilt on Mapi’s face at waking her up. 

It was an obvious question anyway, Mapi clearly was not ok.

She had been distant, often unfocused. The Norwegian had to take over the parenting ropes and she hadn’t left the Spaniard’s apartment, helping with cooking and cleaning and the other mundane housework that Mapi just didn’t have the energy to do. 

She would say a few words over meals, and quiet murmurs of gratitude throughout the day. Ingrid didn’t know how rapidly her notes app was filling up, full of dot points about how and what she would say to Ingrid. When she could bring up that conversation that she was so desperate yet so hesitant to have. 

“Morning Is.” The Spaniard rolled over, opening her arms up for the toddler as she fell into them, snuggling easily into her mother. 

“Mornin’ Mami!” 

Mapi smiled, looking over at Ingrid in the doorway and motioning for her to come and join them on the bed. Naturally, the Norwegian moved towards them, sitting up beside Mapi and resting her head on the centre back’s shoulder. 

“We were awake very early this morning, weren’t we Is?’

She rolled her eyes as the child nodded and Mapi bit back a laugh, squeezing Isabel softly. 

“You should have woken me.” Mapi smiled, planting a kiss on the side of Ingrid’s head, ignoring her scoff. 

“Ingrid said don’t wake you up, Mami!” Isabel interjected again, looking up at her mother. “But I missed you!” 

Mapi could only chuckle, planting a kiss on her child’s head. “I missed you too, my Is!”

It was a slow day, but one full of quiet laughter and happiness. The small family of three spent the late morning hours in bed, before getting up and heading down to the park and tiring the toddler out. She was exhausted by the time they got back, passing out on the sofa as Ingrid took off her shoes and Mapi scrubbed the mud out of her jacket. 

The girl had been put to bed by the time Mapi had returned from the laundry, Ingrid sat on the sofa with the remote in her hand. 

“What do you want to watch?”

She had heard Mapi walking towards the lounge room, apparently. The Spaniard didn’t enter immediately, instead steadying herself on the doorframe and taking a deep breath. 

The time had come, she realised. She couldn’t justify pushing this conversation away any longer, pretending that she wasn’t thinking about it when truthfully it was at the top of her mind at all times. 

She knew it wasn’t an easy conversation to have and she knew that it was going to be hard to bring it up. But that difficulty won’t ever go away, no matter how long she leaves it. If anything it will get harder over time because time gives her fears and anxieties an opportunity to grow, an opportunity to overcome her. 

And she was completely adamant that that would not happen. She would not be overcome by those terrors ever again. 

She realised she had paused in the doorway for too long when Ingrid turned around, a small frown settling on her face. 

“Are you ok?”

Mapi nodded, forcing a stressed smile onto her face and finally taking those steps inside, sitting herself on the sofa beside Ingrid and taking the remote from her hands. 

“Yes. No, but.. Yeah.” 

“Talk to me.”

And she did. She started at the beginning, all the way back when she was a small child and meeting Luis for the first time. She told Ingrid how they had been glued to each other’s sides forever, how they grew up and nothing ever changed. How grateful she was when Luis followed her to Barcelona, moving into his own apartment just a five minute walk away. 

The Spaniard reminisced on times where they would eat dinner on the floor of his unfinished apartment, takeaway boxes empty but the room still full of happiness and laughter. She showed Ingrid her tattoo, the little girl and boy on the playground that she had gotten to match with Luis. 

It was his first and only tattoo and he had only trusted Mapi to give it to him. She knew she had to get one the same and it was something they had treasured. A secret of sorts, a little thing that almost nobody knew about. 

The centre back explained how he had always been a paternal person, all the way back when they were those little kids on the playground. He would look out for everyone, act all big and strong to protect his friends even when he felt equally as terrified. He was the person that everyone went to as they got a bit older, his emotional nature and calm demeanour always popular among their peers. 

She told Ingrid that she always felt so lucky that even though he was so popular, she was still his best friend. She was always his number one and that only ever changed when Isabel came along. 

Isabel who was just as lovely as her boyfriend, another person that Mapi learned to love. 

Another person who proved time and time again that she was a mother. 

So she lamented on the heartbreak that the young couple experienced when they realised they couldn’t have a child, that parenthood seemed almost impossible. 

She explained her entire thought process to the Norwegian, how she debated with herself whether it was worth it to miss so much football during what could have been her peak years. Whether she would ever feel comfortable around a child that was half of her DNA, a child that she carried for nine months but technically didn’t belong to her. 

But Luis’ happiness was always the most important thing and when he rang her up for the 10th night in a row in tears, her decision was made for her. 

She told Ingrid how long it took to convince the couple to let her carry their child, having to go through the same arguments that she had with herself only weeks earlier, having to come up with rebuttals to their incredibly valid points. 

But it had only taken an emotional monologue from the Spaniard to convince them, all three of them sat in tears as they finally agreed to it. 

She talked her through the IVF process, every high and every low that she experienced. How easy the pregnancy was at the beginning, the only symptom her small bump and minor cravings. 

But she had Luis and she had Isabel at that point, both of them so incredibly grateful that they practically waited on the centre back’s hand and foot. It annoyed her, really, so she had kicked them out of her apartment, told them to only come over if she called them. 

For the most part, they respected that, only visiting once a week unless Mapi called them for the company. 

She admitted how much she regretted that deal, how she wished that she made them sit with her all day every day. 

Maybe then they wouldn’t have been in the car that day, maybe they would have been safe and sound in Mapi’s apartment. 

She couldn’t have known that their trip to Madrid would be fatal, there was no way of being able to foresee that and to stop them from going. 

Tears started to slip down her cheeks as she recalled what they told her over the phone, how both Isabel and Luis had been killed on impact. A drunk driver, it was, a drunk driver who was miraculously left unscathed. 

She talked Ingrid through her thoughts that followed the phone call, after she had sobbed and screamed. Once the tears had finally ceased and an unsettling silence fell upon her apartment. 

She felt lost, she felt alone. She wanted to call Luis because he was the person that made her feel better in these times, he was her company when it felt like her entire world was falling apart. 

But of course she couldn’t call Luis. She should have called someone else, her mother, her brother. Alexia, even. But that would be replacing her best friend, something she couldn’t bring herself to do. Not so soon after he had died. Not when the wound was so fresh, not before she even got the chance to process it. 

She admitted to her girlfriend that she still hadn’t really processed it, that it was still a work in progress. His death was one she would never understand, she didn’t think she ever would fully process the idea that he was gone. 

Ingrid let tears spill from her eyes as Mapi remembered how lonely she was for the next few weeks, how she realised that now she had this child that she was just supposed to be able to raise. How she felt entirely unprepared, unfit to be a mother, unequipped to be able to raise a child to a standard that Luis would be happy with. 

How she doubted herself even before Isabel was born.

When she gave birth it got so much harder, everything seemed so impossible and she couldn’t think about anything else other than that little life in her arms. 

She had fallen in love with the baby immediately, guilt overcoming her at her selfish gratitude that Isabel was a living reminder of Luis, she was someone that Mapi would always have. A living being that literally carried her father around with her. 

She told Ingrid how she saw his eyes as soon as they opened, the tape over her shattered heart doing little to protect it when it was forcefully thrown back on the ground at the reminder of everything she had lost. 

But as she spent more and more time with Isabel, as she watched the little girl grow up she could feel her heart building itself back together, little pieces at a time supergluing themselves together, creating an indestructible structure. 

Isabel had been the reason her heart was being fixed, the reason that she felt like she could finally breathe again, finally reunited with the organ that pumped the blood around her body, the organ that made her feel alive. 

She smiled through the tears as she recalled how alive she felt when Isabel took her first steps, when her first words tumbled right out of her mouth. As the child laughed, as she played with the cat. As she grew up into a child, something for Mapi to love, to be so incredibly proud of. 

Because Luis was gone and that was something that Mapi would never be ok with. 

But he left her the greatest gift of all time, like he knew that his best friend wouldn’t be ok without him. 

And similar to everything else he had done for Mapi through their lives, this gift, his daughter, had made sure that the blood never stopped pumping, that every single fragment of her shattered heart was still there, ready and waiting for its turn to be glued back into place. 

Isabel had done a good job of orchestrating the reconstruction, even if she had no idea what she was doing. 

“But then you came along, Ingrid, and you fixed my heart too.”

~~~~~~

alright this was very long

i've proofread a couple times and kinda hate this but it's as good as it will get :)

please let me know what you think! send me anything else you would like to see as well.

and i apologise for this taking so long, i have been very busy with uni (as usual) but on top of that i had surgery on my knee almost a week ago so am very tired and in a fair amount of pain at the minute

have a good day

[i-starcreamed]

Hi I heard you make transformers one oneshot umm I hope you won't mind, this actually a D-16 oneshot " what if his s/o get shoted instead of Orion" or " D - 16 meeting s/o for the first time"

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

I combined both requests :3

cybertronian!reader SPOILERS FOR TF ONE Puree angst, character death, sadness :(

You were also a miner, like Orion and D-16. You met in a similar way they did.

You grunted, your limbs aching from pushing around the minecart around all day. It was filled with raw energon rock at this point, so it was a lot heavier. Last night, you hadn’t recharged well, and now you felt like you were running on your last drop of consciousness... Your optics widened when you unexpectedly bumped into something in front of you, sending your minecart toppling over and spilling its contents.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—“ You hissed, watching all the progress of the day come crashing down onto the floor. You pursed your mouth in frustration; this really sucked.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me help you out, here.” A calm voice came from in front of you, prompting you to avert your optics toward the bot you had bumped into. You paused--hmmm, he was a handsome bot. You eyed his armor for a moment before realizing you were staring.

“Sorry! Uh, I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, kneeling down to pick up your rocks, him beside you. He let out a small spurt of a gruff chuckle.

“No worries. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here. I’m D-16.” He introduced himself, you still remember the way he smiled at you. You nervously smiled back

“I’m Y/N. I was actually uh...promoted just recently. I’ve never mined energon before. It’s harder than I thought.”

“Oh, well, it gets easier. You get better at it too.” He said, tossing the last bit of rock back into your cart and helping you turn it upright.

“So where were you headed off to?” He asked, walking beside you now.

You took a deep breath. “To the trains? I was told to report to Elita-1 afterward.”

“Psh, really? That’s a coincidence, so am I.” He said lightly, grinning at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

It started as a friendship—you, Orion and D-16. You were a little trio. Despite this, Orion always noticed the particular… attention you paid specifically to D. When the three of you joked around, you would always look toward him to watch his reaction—or rather, his smile. You became bashful when he helped you with something, he, in turn, softened up around you. It didn’t take long for Orion to see right through you—meanwhile, D remained completely oblivious!! History says you were just friends

Eventually, you two started dating! You made a sweet couple, with Orion constantly third-wheeling. You can imagine everything you went through after kind of illegally participating in the race, getting thrown to Level 50 as a punishment, and uncovering the location of the Primes.

You watched as your lover changed, and it pained you. You saw his anger slowly shift and shift, first towards his best friend, then at everyone else. You watched as he became feverishly focused on killing Sentinel.

“D, don’t!”

Your yell went silent as you ran in front of sentinel, the blast from D’s cannon hitting you instead of him. The impact blasted through your chest, ripping through armor, your casing, and your wiring—until it struck your spark. This was the turning point when D-16 became.. Megatron. His optics widened, he stopped seeing red for a split second.

He watch as your body fell, the whole world seemed to come to a halt.

“Y/N!” He yelled and dived after your body, momentarily forgetting about his anger. Before you could fall into the depths of Iacon, he caught your arm. He didn’t waste a second as he desperately tried to pull you up. You had no strength left to help yourself--your body hung limp.

“Why! Why did you do that!?” He yelled at you, his voice shaking. As you slipped between consciousness, you realized you’d never heard your lover so emotional. Not like this.

“You can’t go, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—“

“D…”

Your arm started slipping from his digits. “I’m so sorry…you have to.. stop this. Please,” you whispered out, the light in your optics flickering.

Megatron stared at you, partly in disbelief at you and himself. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, I-I promise,” He hissed, his servo desperately holding on. You knew you didn’t have much time left.

“D, please don’t this. I love you. I always will. No matter what I’ll always remember you as my D-16.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, roaring in anguish as your body slipped from his grip. He watched as you descended into the depths of your planet. You were going to become a part of Cybertron again, just as they all started out as. He’s so sorry.

He’s sorry he’s not the D-16 you knew.

Despite this loss, he still became Megatron. Afterall, he had nothing to lose now.

[jprbrlsb]

38-year-old Severus Snape opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was the familiar, royal-green canopy of his old Slytherin bed, hanging above him. For a brief moment, there was confusion—a fleeting sensation, like waking up inside a dream only to realize you had been dreaming of a dream. It was as if multiple realities overlapped, blending into a bouquet of thoughts he couldn’t quite place. For a split second, there were no worries, no fear, nor loathing.

An intense haze clouded his mind as his thoughts slowly began to piece together. After a few more moments, he finally sat up, letting the covers fall softly and silently into his lap. He glanced around while his three old classmates got ready for class.

He was dead. The boys were making so much noise.

Someone was talking to him. What was he doing? He was going to be late. No one was waiting for him. They called him “the little princess.” They told him he was going to miss breakfast.

He was dead moments ago. He was going to miss breakfast.

The boys they were also dead, all of them, all dead, Avery, Rosier and Mulciber, they were dead dead dead left the room. He was alone. Dead, mute, confused.

Was he dead late?

His feet finaly moved out of bed. The floor was cold he was bleeding out. He hadn’t put his shoes on. He stood up.

Somehow, he found himself in the bathroom, staring.

At himself.

A lean face, thin as a twig, so young.

He was a child. He was late for Charms. He was a dead man. He had just died woke up. He was at Hogwarts, as a student, as a teacher student. His face was smooth, no wrinkles. There were no furrowed lines between his eyebrows.

He needed to get out of there.

I made a fanfic out of this! Thinking about how its going to continue...

Anyway if someone wants the link, here

[porcelainseashore]

The Faceless One - Palla Grande "King Slayers" ft. Gael Romilly

Author's Note: I’m so excited that this is my first time writing for VtM and participating in an event! Here’s my entry for the Palla Grande "King Slayers" hosted by @tzimizce, which tells the story of how Gael, the daredevil, couldn’t resist getting into one of her own.

She wasn’t from around these parts. Her brothers and sisters had told tall tales about the infamous event the Sabbat held each year, captivated her with descriptions of their festivities—maybe rumors—rumors were common among her kind.

“Bullshit,” she had said, waving her hand dismissively, drunk on warm blood sloshing around in a squashed plastic cup. A dash of it spilled to the ground, watering the cracked soil and scarring it red. 

“You don’t believe us? Then see it for yourself,” they had chanted, eyes gleaming, sharpened teeth luminescent under the glow of the moonlit sky.

The compulsion in her ached, clawing through her ribcage, shredding it apart. Streams of ribbons scarlet on her bare hands. And she knew that she would tear out her undead eyes just for a glimpse into such revelry.

“I will,” she gritted out, tossing the empty cup into the dirt, another blemish upon the landscape they called theirs, at least for the night.

All Hallows Eve descended upon the city in all its wicked glory, reeking of cheap liquor on tacky costumes, and barbed wire in candy. Gael drove into the heart of it, finding a place where the misfits and wannabes hung out in droves. A perfect hunting ground for those who dared call themselves vampires.

In there, whispers upon whispers circulated among friends of friends of acquaintances of strangers, and she heard it all. She could be charming if she wanted to, especially when she wasn’t shivering like an addict looking for their next fix.

“It’s an exclusive party,” one of the group told her snottily. “They asked specifically for five of us.”

Us. Gael didn’t belong—not yet.

That was okay. She revealed her first card, just like the way her lips pulled taut against the flesh of her gums to reveal her teeth. For a split second, her pupils flashed diabolically.

“But I am part of your five,” she grinned.

They stammered, hemmed and hawed, unable to shy away from her gaze. It didn’t take long for them to oust the weakest of the group, offering Gael their spot instead. As they set off, there were cackles and chatter about being honored at a Blood Feast.

Poor new age witches, they never stood a chance. So naive, so easy to manipulate, she thought. And what of her now? She would let them be blood bags for some ostentatious display of power.

A silent witness.

“Mistress Lydia’s guests?” the bouncer at the door asked.

Gael’s heart pounded in her chest. Oh, how she had forgotten what it felt like to be alive! Even through mimicry—what she would continue to rely on for the rest of the evening.

“Here, put this on.”

She was handed a poppy flower to pin on her jacket. Touché. The flower of spilled blood and sacrifice. How blatant could the Sabbat be?

As she was ushered in, she took in the marvelous sights of wild excess and debauchery. The costumes, each more extravagant than the other. She would soon don her own, but for now, she played the role of a moronic tourist, piggybacking off someone else’s invitation.

Her keen eyes darted around, surveying the venue. The passageways and exits were triple checked. So were the doors leading to the pantries and cellars.

The bathrooms. Check.

Behind the bars. Check.

Backstage. Check. 

The gears began to turn in Gael’s head as she ticked each area of interest off like an item on her inventory list. Years of being a runner and drug mule for a particularly notorious coterie in the Northwest had left its mark and taken its toll. But maybe we’ll get to that later—or not.

As usual, she slipped away into the crowd, losing the flower as she blended in like a chameleon, shifting skins—smoothly, expertly, shedding her self in the layers, to appear as one nondescript form to another. She had to be careful to avoid any misstep. One wrong move, and she was done for. Although she had a thousand masks to wear, there were a thousand pairs of eyes, always watching, from the shadows, from the blind corners of her vision.

Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as a byproduct of the way in which she conducted her affairs—meticulous and calculating. Falling into pace, fear and trepidation gave way to thrill and excitement. She swore she could see the searing white adrenaline course through her veins, turning them milky and sticky. And her Beast was pleased.

Across the night, she was a human guest, a ghoul server, a band’s roadie all-in-one. She flitted between guises like switching dance partners—never bored, nor boring. Picking up on secret codes and gestures, weaving in and out of head counts, sometimes one more, sometimes one less, like that creepypasta she had read on 4chan… Anansi’s Goatman?

Doppelgänger, shapeshifter, but she was pretty damn sure that they were Ravnos—like her. 

Just before suspicion arose, she would change out again. Luck was on her side, for the time being. 

She watched wide-eyed as the grandiose performance of a sacrificial rite played out on stage, interspersed with images of Gehenna. The first of the mortals were slaughtered unknowingly among the sheep.

Power. Was this what Cainites felt at the height of their bloodlust?

Gael felt it too, similarly but different. She’d done it. None of her brothers and sisters saw, but she’d done it, and that was enough. 

Here she was, standing in a tank circled by sharks, unnoticed. Just another one of the many. Faceless, nameless, a nobody.

To be faceless was to retake power from having an identity—something to label, to judge, to align you with a sect or cause, under a banner. And for what?

To be unshackled of the ego—that was true power. 

She’d made it this far, but the hardest part yet was getting out. As far as she observed, the doors had been sealed shut long ago. Everything would be accounted for, dealt with, and cleaned up.

What would they do if they found her? Would they destroy her on the spot, or convert her to their church? Had they lulled her into a false sense of security, waiting for the right moment to strike?

Regardless, she would always remain fiercely independent, even in her final—

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[pepi1989]

Can you please type a story of reader smothering Ben in kisses to try get him to talk after a fake argument/mock fight? Like fighting after reader teasing him?

Too Many Kisses to Stay Mad - Ben Shelton

It started out as just harmless teasing, like it always does. We were sitting on the couch after dinner, the TV on in the background, when Ben launched into another story about his practice session. I couldn’t help myself, he was always talking about tennis, and I’d spent the whole meal listening to stats, strategies, and match recaps.

“So let me get this straight,” I interrupted, trying to keep a straight face. “You spent the entire afternoon talking to your coach about… the angle of your serve?”

Ben paused, mid-sentence, giving me a confused look. “Yeah? It’s important. The right angle can—”

“Oh, I know, it’s crucial,” I said, exaggerating my voice like some sort of sports commentator. “Because clearly, that’s the most fascinating thing in the world to talk about when you’re home, relaxing, with your girlfriend.”

His brow furrowed as he picked up on the teasing tone. “Are you making fun of me?”

I grinned, biting my lip. “Never,” I said with faux innocence, leaning in like I was about to be serious. “I’m just saying… maybe we could talk about something else for a change? Like how cute my new outfit is, or how amazing I am at Mario Kart.”

Ben’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I talk about other stuff.”

I gasped, dramatically clutching my chest. “Other stuff? Besides tennis? I’m shocked. Shocked, I tell you.”

His eyes narrowed, but the smirk was already forming. “Alright, alright. You’re asking for it.”

“Oh no,” I laughed, sliding away as he reached for me, “what are you gonna do? Lecture me about the importance of racket tension?”

Ben lunged, pinning me to the couch as I squirmed beneath him, laughing. “You better apologize before I go full tennis nerd on you.”

“Never!” I gasped between giggles, trying to wriggle free. “You’ll never make me!”

“Okay, fine,” he said, sitting up with a mock frown. “You’re on your own now. I’m not talking to you. Ever again.”

I sat up too, catching my breath and raising an eyebrow. “Really? Not talking to me, huh? You think you can keep that up?”

Ben crossed his arms and turned his face away dramatically. “I’m dead serious. You’re cut off.”

I tried to suppress a laugh, but the fake sulking was too much. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. It was just a little teasing.”

He remained silent, his face stoic, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. He was holding back a smile.

“Alright,” I said, standing up and brushing off my clothes. “I see how it is. Guess I’ll just have to… make you talk.”

His eyes darted towards me for a split second, his curiosity piqued, but he quickly looked away again. I took that as my cue.

Without warning, I jumped back onto the couch, tackling him into the cushions and smothering his face with kisses. “Kiss attack!” I declared, planting kisses all over his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, anywhere I could reach.

Ben squirmed beneath me, trying to fend me off, but he was laughing now, the mock argument completely forgotten. “Stop! You’re—this is cheating!”

“Not until you talk to me!” I said between kisses, refusing to let up. “Come on, just say something.”

He let out a muffled laugh, grabbing my wrists to try and stop me, but I was too quick. “Okay, okay!” he finally gasped, barely able to breathe from laughing. “You win!”

I sat back, grinning down at him, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”

Ben shook his head, his chest still heaving from laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” I said, leaning in close, my lips brushing against his, “you’re still with me.”

He sighed dramatically, but the affection in his eyes was undeniable. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

I moved to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, and he responded instantly, his hands slipping around my waist to pull me closer. For a moment, the teasing faded into something warmer, something more real. I could feel his heart racing beneath my palm as he deepened the kiss, and when we finally pulled away, he was smiling.

“You know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “you didn’t have to kiss me a hundred times to get me to talk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “I know. But where’s the fun in that?”

He chuckled, his hands still resting on my waist. “Fair point. But next time, I’m not letting you win so easily.”

“Oh, please,” I teased, leaning back with a playful smirk. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”

Ben tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna bet?”

Before I could respond, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him this time, his grin widening as I let out a surprised yelp. “Payback time,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low.

But instead of kissing me, he hovered just inches away, his breath warm against my skin. I waited, my heart racing, but he stayed right there, not moving.

“Ben,” I whispered, biting my lip. “You’re killing me here.”

“Am I?” he asked, his voice full of amusement. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

I rolled my eyes, my hands sliding up his chest. “Fine, let’s talk.”

He chuckled, finally closing the distance and kissing me again, this time with a little more intensity. His hands roamed over my sides, pulling me closer, and all thoughts of teasing and mock fights melted away.

When we eventually broke apart, both of us breathless, Ben rested his forehead against mine. “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I can’t resist you.”

“Told you,” I murmured, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But you can keep trying. I don’t mind.”

[fhrlclln]

afterlife buddy | jason mendoza

SUMMARY -> your lonely life doesn't end on earth, but it reaches the afterlife. luckily, you have jason, right? even though he has his soulmate in the good place.

jason mendoza x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, gentle sex, emotional hurt, confessions of feelings, mentions of drugs & smoking

WC -> 3.8k

a/n: writing his character is literally the hardest thing i’ve done lmaoooo. he’s so unique that i actually fear i didn’t embodied him accurately so warning he’s a little ooc!! (in my view) and i feel like jason is a great smoke buddy lmao. hope y'all like this!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

being dead sucked.

that’s what you are thinking right now as you lie on your bed alone in your room. smoking a vape pen that janet had miraculously given you in a split second the moment you curiously asked if you could have one discreetly. well, maybe that’s one good thing about being in the afterlife… you won’t pay for your vape juices anymore. you had been in “the good place” or the afterlife for about a week. at first, you knew you weren’t supposed to be here. there was nothing that you could think of. you did something perfect to earn your place in this “heaven,” as michael had broadly said when your eyes opened and you were in that waiting room.

maybe being dead didn't really sucked. maybe you were just kind of disappointed, really. as you were welcomed into the good place, the only thing michael had said that had maybe upseted you was in fact, you apparently don't have a soulmate.

which... made you ponder for a moment how in the world did it come to that? back in your life on earth, you were always alone, in a sense. you always thought that everything ended in every relationship you had, that maybe it was just destiny leading you to your soulmate. that maybe your special someone was coming to you at any point in your dreadful life back on earth. yet, being dead now, you had thought that maybe your soulmate was here as well.

which, unfortunately, not as well.

michael had put it in a light and gentle explanation that rarely people wouldn't have a soulmate. sporadic it is, as he puts it to you in a nauseating but sympathetic tone that you somehow loathed. all you could now do was put on a smile and nod in understanding and eventually move on because you're dead, after all. and maybe the worst part of being dead was after michael had explained to you that you're all alone in a good place. after the opening orientation, he introduced you to the many people in the neighborhood and their soulmates. you were introduced to eleanor and chidi, then to tahani and her soulmate, the silent monk jianyu.

or rather... jason mendoza.

a lot of things happened after your first day in the good place. you obviously were self-aware that you weren't supposed to be here. things did start to get weird after tahani's welcoming party for the whole neighborhood and the incident in the heart of the town. you thought for a moment that it might be you who was causing the unexplained glitches happening, and that's when you met another soul who also thinks they aren't supposed to be here either, eleanor shellstrop. after that, that's when you met jason; he as well wasn't supposed to be in a good place either.

your mouth feels dry, and even in the afterlife, you still get cottonmouth from overusing your puffs. this is torture. you think to yourself as you sit up, wondering if you should have agreed to be in chidi's ethics class. you don't really care if you are going to be sent to the bad place. where did you even belong, really?

you close your eyes, dropping your vape pen on your chest as you let out a tired sigh. you reel into the silence of your home, the dimness of the room shielding away the light, making it feel like you are back in your own lonely home on earth. the overwhelming feeling is still there, it never goes away. but your moment of loneliness is interrupted when you hear the front door open loudly.

"i'm not interested, eleanor. please." you immediately say before the visitor can say something.

"hey! cool, you have a vape!" your eyes shot open to see jason come in, dressed in his cream monk clothes. there's a grin spread across his face as he points to your vape pen. "can i take a hit?"

"oh, it's you." you chuckled, and he seemed puzzled at your acknowledgment towards him.

"why? is there another jason here!?" he says, looking around quickly, which makes you laugh out loud.

"here." you sit up, handing him your vape, and he immediately takes it from your hands, sitting next to you. "there's no other you, jason. it's only you." you reassure him, no matter how dumb it sounds.

"good!” he takes a puff, then sighing out the vapor in complete relaxation. “but having another me would be so dope, dude. imagine, if they find out i’m not supposed to be here, then i’ll turn the other jason in so i won’t go to the bad place.”

“that sounds like a plan. but you’ll turn him in?” you raise your brow as he takes another hit.

“yeah, homie! if i turn him in, it means i did something good… so, technically i did something good!” he smiled widely, you chuckled, shaking your head. witnessing him be himself was actually a refreshing thing you are feeling now.

“but that would mean michael will have to send you to the bad place too… because technically you’re also jason?” you hummed and his brows furrow at that, processing it. he looks cute thinking deeply. you thought as he hands your vape back.

“oh…” he frowns. “that sucks.”

“it does.” you nod, taking a hit.

“man, why does everything have to be so hard! you know, whenever i had a problem, i always throw a molotov to get rid of it. but chidi and eleanor said that was stupid.” you almost cough out the vapor you’re inhaling, surprised at that.

“a molotov?” you giggled, finding it funny. it seemed arson was his solution to all his problems… and concerning.

“yeah! you should try throwing one, homie. i swear, it’s a game changer because your previous problem turns into a new one! so, you don’t have to worry about your old problem anymore.” he explained.

“that’s… oddly effective, actually.” you think about it. jason’s eyes sparkled at that as he turns to you.

“i could show you how to do it, dude! we can start throwing it at michael’s office! the powerhouse of our problems!” he says excitedly. “this will be so dope. maybe janet has something i can light up, this will be so lit.”

he stands up, ready to call on janet. your eyes widened and you pulled him back to the bed. arson was not at your top list for the moment of trying to avoid being sent to the bad place.

“woah!” you say, and he looks at you confused.

“okay, calm down, jason. we’ll do that if everything else fails.” you reassured him, but lying that you’re actually not really planning on doing that with him. even though he’s so sweet to offer you to teach you how to do it, in a way even if it was borderline crazy.

“this sucks. i thought being in the good place won’t suck.” he pouts, sitting next to you.

"what brings you here, jason?" you finally ask him, his frown still plastered across his face as he looks at you. he fiddles with his fingers as you hand him your vape.

"eleanor said that i should go to you so you can finally join us."

you sigh, lying on your bed. "tell her i'm good. thanks."

"you're not good... you're you." he emphasized with puppy eyes, and you laughed. "so you're not gonna come with us?"

"no." you shake your head. "what's the point of learning to be good when i'm supposed to be in the bad place?"

"you get to be in the good place." he responds, taking a hit.

"i don't know, jason." you shrugged, looking at the ceiling blankly. "that doesn't mean i belong here."

"you do belong here!" he suddenly argues, looking over to your laid figure. "you're kind and nice to me. eleanor says i'm an idiot... but you don't think i'm an idiot, right?"

your hearts skips a beat at that. "no, jason. i don't think you're an idiot." you smiled.

"you sure you don't want to come with me?" he pouts.

"i'm okay right here."

"then i'll stay here with you." he decides, lying beside you. you feel the bed dip on your side as you turn your head to look at him, your own heart fluttering at his kindness. "I'll be your afterlife buddy or homie."

"afterlife buddy, huh?" you smiled at that. "i like that."

you two just lay there on your bed without thinking about the main problem. casually passing the vape pen back and forth while talking about random things, very random things from jason. you learned he was a dj from jacksonville, florida. he loves buffalo wings, he sold drugs to college students, loves the jacksonville jaguars, and did pretty stupid things, but you listened nonetheless. you actually opened up a bit about what happened in your life. he listened, and everything felt like at that moment, you weren't thinking about your situation right now.

"what's it like having a soulmate?" you ask him now as you blow a ring out of your mouth afterward with the vapor. jason hums as you pass him back the vape.

"i don't know. tahani doesn't know i'm not supposed to be here... but i guess living in her mansion was the dopest part." he says.

"do you think tahani's really your soulmate?" you shyly asked, ignoring the lingering jealousy you have for them.

"i always thought ariana grande was going to be my soulmate." he genuinely said, trying to mimic how you puff out rings but failed. you giggled at that and fell silent. you ignore that bitter feeling that's nagging you. you grab the vape from him, opting to teach him how to do the trick rather than to be affected by the notion that you don't have a soulmate.

"here. you put your mouth into an 'o' shape." you say, adjusting your position to lay on your stomach as he watches you take a puff. "then like, slowly exhale while your tongue and jaw push the vapor out."

"cool." he stares at you as you puff several rings out. you hand it back to him, and he tries it, but he is too fast to exhale, and his mouth is a little bit wider than what you showed him, making the rings not stick out.

"almost!" you laugh at him as you scoot over to teach him how. "put your mouth like this."

your a bit closer to him, making your arm brush against his while your hand goes to his lips. your face an inch above his, so close. he watches you guide him, your finger brushing lightly against his lower lip as you softly guide him to make his 'o' shaped mouth into what you showed him. you stare at his lips, wondering how lucky tahani must be with him.

"and there." you say, dropping your hand to his chest. jason's eyes shyly avert away for a moment from you, something in him bothering him, but he utters it out nonetheless.

"what if i was your soulmate?"

you're stunned for a moment, realizing how close you are to him. you stutter for a moment while his eyes go wide and expecting, as if he's looking at a pikachu balloon he desperately wants. what if? that question of his rings through your head? there's hope in your heart for a moment. but... you shake your head sadly. that would be unlikely.

"jason..." you're about to argue, but he cuts you off.

"i think so." he says, staring into your eyes. you don't know what to say, looking at his puppy face, feeling like a fool. you don't know... do you deserve jason to be your soulmate? you blink back to reality.

"you don't have to cheer me up because i don't have one." you willed yourself to detach from him, missing his warmth. you sat up, averting his gaze. jason frowns, confused as to why you seemed so sad at that.

"but-"

"you should go now. i think eleanor and chidi are looking for you." you almost want to strangle yourself for dismissing him like that. there you are again, always avoiding what's right before you. jason sits up, this time he doesn't know what to say. he stands up, confused and sad, but he respects your wish to be alone now. your back is turned to him, and you wince when you hear him leave. your heart ached, and the loneliness creeped back into your room. hugging you in the darkness.

if only. you think hopelessly, lying back down. if fucking only.

・゜゜・．

fuck.

your fingers dig into the flesh of your lap, now that eleanor has officially told the entire neighborhood including michael, about her not belonging here has you on edge lately. while you did escape from being interrogated in michael's office that day, that hasn't been the only thing that has been bugging you.

jason isn't talking to you.

you feel like a loser, a fool, and an idiot. should you have just agreed with him that day? the only person you actually talk to has decided to ignore your presence, which was very unlikely of jason since you had met his real self than jianyu. you want to ask chidi for help... but he has his dilemma now with tahani and eleanor. who would you call to?

"janet!" you immediately blurt out of desperation. you hoped her rebooting was in the middle since you really need her right now.

"hi, there!" janet pops up in front of you. you jump in your place, still unused to her sudden appearance every time. "what can i do for you?"

"uhm..." you feel slightly embarrassed to ask of this. "h-how is jason doing?"

"jason is currently watching t.v in his room, but he says he's upset because he's in big trouble and that he upsetted you." she says with a smile. you gulp harshly, running your hand across your face as you sigh loudly.

"fork." you muttered, annoyed that you can't even correctly swear right now.

"it appears to me that you are also upset now." janet looks at you, and you look at her with tired eyes. you sit on your couch, while janet observes you with her usual cheery face. you think for a moment how to fix all of this, your stay in the good place is nearing its end, and you feel like at any minute now, you'll be boarding the train to the bad place. if jason managed to stay... at least you can leave him with a positive impression as a goodbye.

"janet?"

"yes?"

"can you make some buffalo wings?"

"sure!"

anticipation lingers through the air when janet leaves in an instant. you hoped he would find your apology gift to end his thoughts about how he upset you. but you upset him. because you pushed him away, still thinking that you don't deserve anyone as pure and kind as jason is. why were you holding back? why were you still trying to push away your feelings for him? when it was evident he thought the same of you. as you lay on the couch, you pondered if you should have given him the gift instead of janet. you close your eyes, wanting to bury yourself in the ground.

a sudden frantic knocking makes you jolt up.

you quickly stand up, fearing that michael has asked you to return to his office. you rush to your front door, readying yourself as you hesitantly open it. but… you were then met with the sight of a nervous-looking jason.

your eyes softened. "hey..."

"i love you." he deadpans, face serious as ever. your eyes widened, your heart stopped for a moment, and so did the apology in your head for him. you're about to say something but he takes a deep breath before coming closer to you.

"i just want you to know that you're like whippets to me... addicting that i can't live without it. you're pretty like those lights in a skrillex concert and make my heartbeat drop like when i overdose on hard drugs. and you're the only person here who's nice to me and you're my afterlife buddy. and you remembered that i like those buffalo wings from my favorite restaurant even though janet said they closed, and you managed to make a replica to cheer me up." he stops, fidgeting with his hands as he shyly averts your gaze. "so... i love you, homie. and wanna be there for you."

you're stunned, not knowing what to say. the tingling feeling crawls back into your heart. but you don't say anything else as you pull him to you for a kiss. he kisses you back, softly cupping your cheeks. you finally let yourself out of your shell. it was so sweet, warm, and comforting to be wanted. you wrap your arms around his neck, guiding him inside your house as your hand pushes to close the front door. you pull away for a moment, wanting to see his reaction.

"woah..." he merely says, starstruck as he blinks dumbly. "also, i love your ass. does this mean you'll have sex with me?"

you rest your hands on his chest as his breath hits your nose. how wide and doe-eyed they were, but evident that there's lust behind it. you giggled, how forward he is as you think about it. anytime you both would be coming with eleanor to the bad place if michael finds out, and maybe you two won't see each other again. and that breaks your heart for a moment how little time you two have.

fuck it. why not?

"okay." you say with a smile as you grab his arm to drag him to your room. jason smiles wildly, jumping a bit in excitement as he lets you drag him to your room.

the entire room feels heavy. your eyes blink hazily as you toss your head back when you feel his lips trace the hollow of your neck down to your breasts. clothes were thrown carelessly on the floor, the sheets were now ruffled, both of you were naked, and everything felt hot. you let out a breathy sigh when he takes one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking.

fuck. was this jason? you're slightly baffled at how this goofball of a man turned into something else. your hand comes up to caress his black hair down to the back of his neck, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he grinds his hips slowly. your lips feel so swollen from his kisses and your heart is beating loudly at the sight of him above you.

his head suddenly rose up, letting your nipple go as he rested his cheek on your chest, looking at you with a small grin on his face. "they're like clouds... so soft."

"you're adorable." you whisper, your hand on his hand, caressing his scalp, making him hum in satisfaction at your touch. he continues to subtly grind his crotch against yours, the friction of his prick rubbing against your core making you whine.

"jason..." you whined, and he propped himself up to tower over you, adjusting himself as he sat on his knees. "i love you too."

his heart skips a beat completely as he makes a noise of that. "can i?"

his eyes drift down to that spot on the apex of your thighs. he looks so out of it, so serious, as you nod. you place your hands on his biceps, gripping his muscles as he takes himself in his hand to gently guide himself in you. you steady yourself, pushing your hips slightly forward as you are rewarded with the sensation of his tip prodding your wet entrance. you let out a tiny moan while jason surges forward to lock lips with yours again.

"o-oh!" you look down to see how he's entering you slowly. his chest rises as his face hovers against your warm cheek. "you know... i almost thought that being in the afterlife would make my vagina go away." you randomly said, wondering why you said that. but you were too drunk in the pleasure of him filling you up inch by inch, his cock now nestled deep inside you to even think of your own words.

"then where will i go inside you?" he genuinely asks, and that makes you grin devilishly.

"in my mouth." you kiss the tip of his nose. he seems to want to ask you about that further, but you shut him up by grinding your hips up. he groans, his entire focus is now thrusting in and out of you slowly. not hurrying up and it seems you two both like this slow pace.

soft kisses are shared as he languidly thrusts into you. gentle caresses and bites are plastered across both of your skins. the sheen sweat is glistening on both of your foreheads as you both are so lost in the sensation of each other. you stare into his eyes, your warm walls clenching around him as his thumb rubs your clit. you wondered how skilled he is with all of this, knowing where your sweet spots are, and how calculated his thrusts are. he's so different in bed that it makes you want to explore more of this side of him.

"i'm close." you breathily say, your hands moving to grasp his neck, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. jason's thrusts are starting to falter. he's also near his high as he thrusts into you with more vigor. a stream of moans of his name rings through his ears, he makes it his goal for you to cum first as he continues to rub your bead.

you let out a mewl, head tossing back and eyes shutting tight as you bit your lip when the tip of his cock hits that spongy spot in you. your whole body seizes with pleasure, back arching as his other hand holds your hips down for him to continue his hard thrusts. your walls clench around him, riding your orgasm now as he says your name breathily. he then pushes his hips completely to yours, his own orgasm coming at him as he finally cums in you.

"bortles." he sighed before he dropped his whole weight onto you. your brows furrowed, wondering why he said his favorite football player's name at the end of his orgasm. instead of being annoyed, you giggled, making him smile widely as he looked up at you as you lovingly caressed his back.

"do you think we're soulmates?" he suddenly asks, and you don't hesitate for an answer now, even though you two weren't or maybe were. who cares?

"yes."

[empty-dream]

This turns into a horror psychological thriller for a split second. What a marvelous direction.

[yashley]

imogen & fearne in 3x50

[lichilly]

I’m forever haunted by the scene after Joseph is shot. His body collapses heavily, hitting the stage with a heart-wrenching thud that reverberates through the still audience. Children’s screams pierce the air, their cries mingling with the frantic shouts of adults rushing to shield and comfort them, as everyone becomes hauntingly aware of the lurking danger. Fellow actors rush out only to be greeted by the horrifying sight of Joseph’s lifeless, blood-soaked form. Time stops, each moment stretching into an eternity while simultaneously racing forward, making it feel as though he was there one moment and gone the next…

[realian]

quotes that make me wanna start biting people.

[goldentigerfestival]

this is like half a joke bc im just having fun but also half not bc im totally fckn serious abt it, ya know??

[satoruxx]

normally toji prides himself on being the perfect guard dog—not that he would ever tell you that. but you never have to worry about guys coming up to you when your hulking monster of a boyfriend remains at your side, continuously glaring down his nose at everyone he sees.

this usually works pretty well.

on adults.

but now, as you and him wait in line at the counter of the grocery store, he can only let out a huff of irritation as he watches the little brat in front of you both stare over his mother’s shoulder—big wide eyes locked on you.

at first you don’t really notice, too busy blabbering about something silly as you look around the store. but when you finally lock eyes with the child, you notice the way he seems to go shy, pressing his cheek deeper into his mom’s shoulder. his eyes flick away from your face for just a second, before timidly looking back. as soon as he does, you break into the sweetest, most giddy smile.

(toji would move mountains for a glimpse of that smile—and yet here this kid is just getting it without a shred of work.)

you tilt your head, raising a hand to gently wave at the boy, who flushes further under your attention, but lifts his cheek a little more. chubby fingers come up to meekly wave back, and you hold back a silent coo of affection, eyes filled with honey-like sweetness. with every little giggle and silly face you make at the boy, he seems to get more and more comfortable—toji watches you melt.

the unlucky little brat then quickly peeks at the giant man looming beside you, and toji can’t resist. his face pulls into a evil smile, teeth on full display as he wiggles his fingers sinisterly. the expression has its desired effect—the kid recoils, eyes going wide before burying his face into his mother’s neck. in a few minutes, the boy and his mom are heading out the store and you and toji start loading the groceries onto the belt.

“i saw that, you know?”

toji glances up, seeing your semi disapproving frown, and he cocks his head in faux innocence. “saw what?”

“you’re mean,” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “scaring little kids like that. quite literally the object of their nightmares.”

“ah, he’ll be alright,” toji grunts, taking the bags from the cashier in one hand and reaching for your palm with the other. “it’ll build his character.”

you snort. “he’ll have trauma.”

“like i said,” he grins, a canine display. “character.”

you roll your eyes as he tugs you out of the store—your grip on him unwilling to falter.

toji lives just like this, successful in scaring off any other person who considers giving you attention, whether that’s an adult or a little kid. and despite your exasperated complaints to at least lay off the children (they’re harmless), toji has known for a long time that he can be nothing but selfish when it comes to you.

so forgive him, if he quickly turns to this evil little tactic to scare away kids—it’s all he can really do. besides, it always works.

until now.

you’re sitting under a tree at a small park, working on some dumb assignment for one of your lectures. toji lays on his back next to you, arm draped over his eyes in a momentary respite from the normal danger of his life—eerily content.

the peace is broken by the rustling of tiny footsteps in the grass.

“here you go.”

toji pulls his arm away to peer at the owner of the voice. a boy stands there, hair tousled as he waits in front of you with his arm outstretched—in between his chubby fingers is a singular dandelion.

your eyes widen, cheeks splitting into a wide smile as you coo out your affection. “aw for me?”

the boy nods mutely, cheeks flushed as he thrusts the flower further into your view. you delicately pluck it from his hands, inhaling the fragrance with a grateful smile. “well thank you. it’s beautiful.”

he shyly kicks at a spot of grass, lips pulling up into a giddy smile under your sweet praise. “just like you,” he mumbles under his breath and you squeal softly, giggling at how adorable this kid truly is.

toji sits up before you can say anything else, lips pulled into a displeased frown as he crosses his bulky arms across his chest. “hey.” his voice comes out low and tense, even as he stares down his nose at the boy. “what are you doing?”

you turn to look at your boyfriend, at the exaggerated sneer that normally works wonders in scaring kids away, and you hold back an exasperated sigh. “toji—“

“who are you?” the boy frowns, sass appearing out of thin air as he looks toji up and down like he’s nothing but dirt under his colorful sneakers. you gape at him, eyes darting back and forth between the two as a smile threatens to make its way into your face. toji’s lips part in surprise, a tingle of heat crawling up his neck as he hears your hushed gasp of held back laughter.

“her boyfriend,” he grunts back, eyes narrowed in a way that’s oddly similar to the expression on the kid’s face.

“no way!” the boy huffs, pouting indignantly. his cheeks flush as he glares at toji—unfazed.

“uh, yes way.” toji realizes how petty he sounds, but he’s adamant—unwilling to stand down in anything that involves you.

the boy crosses his arms, mirroring toji’s pose. he rolls his eyes emphatically, lip curling as he sneers down his nose.

“isn’t she too pretty for you?” he asks bluntly. you smother another disbelieving gasp, and toji suddenly feels an unfamiliar thrill rush through his veins—this kid had guts.

“what do you know, brat?” there’s a smirk evident in toji’s voice now, and he uncrosses his arms to lean back on his palms, eyes shining with feral mirth.

“i have eyes,” the boy snaps back, putting both hands on his hips to appear more intimidating—it doesn’t work, he just looks cuter. “i can see her.”

“well quit it,” toji huffs in return. “not yours to look at.”

the kid narrows his eyes. “you’re mean!”

“and you’re nosy!”

“how am i nosy?”

“you’re comin’ over here and givin’ my girl flowers!”

“she deserves flowers!”

“of course she does! from me, you little brat!”

“you suck, old man!”

“what did you just call me?!”

a shout from across the park disrupts the heated bickering, and you all turn to see an older woman waving the boy over. he looks down at you, a sweet smile washing over his face as he tilts his head innocently. “that’s my mom. i have to go home now.”

“heh, sure thing. get home safe, okay?” you shoot toji an amused glance as you speak, and he sends a displeased glare back as he stubbornly crosses his arms again.

the boy nods, beaming at you. “okay! see you later!” he chirps. but just as he’s about to leave he turns back, eyes fixated on toji. “i hope your boyfriend learns how to be nice!”

and then he runs off.

you snort out another laugh, which only gets louder when you catch a glimpse of the way toji is practically sulking in the corner—scowling at the kid’s back with narrowed eyes.

the whole thing is so unbelievably endearing, and you can’t stop grinning as you pack up your things and stand up.

“let’s go home, toji.” you hold your palm out for him, and you’re rewarded with a pointed glance—he takes your hand anyway. even as you both exit the park, toji has an unamused pout on his face, glaring ahead.

you can’t resist.

“don’t tell me you actually feel threatened now,” you giggle, grabbing his bicep and pressing close. toji glances at you from the corner of his eyes, unamused—which only seems to make you laugh harder. “oh come on! he was so cute!”

“little brat,” he grumbles in return. “couldn’t take a hint.”

“you’re mad because the eight year old kid at the park didn’t want to believe you were my boyfriend?”

“the fuck do you think? of course i am. what do i look like if not your fucking boyfriend?”

you chortle, practically falling on him with the weight of your amusement. he sighs, disgruntled.

“it’s not funny, kid.” toji rolls his eyes at you—internally, he’s trying not to grin.

“it’s so funny, toji.” you straighten up, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. “you’re ridiculous and it’s so cute.”

he scoffs, giving you a sidelong glance before reaching up to tug at your cheek. “i’m definitely not the cute one.” he murmurs offhandedly before internally smirking at the way you seem to be caught off guard by his statement.

“whatever,” you mumble, holding his arm as you both continue walking home in relative silence. from the corner of your eye you can see toji’s expression as he mutely stares ahead, deep in thought. you decide not to disturb him, content on just feeling his warmth bleeding into your palm—always at your side.

toji replays the incident in his head multiple times as you head home. the bickering, the sass, and the unfiltered adoration that little brat seemed to have for you.

something clicks.

as you’re pushing open the door of your apartment, you hear toji quietly chuckle from behind you, and you turn to look at him over you shoulder. “what?”

he shakes his head slowly, eyes shut even as an uncharacteristically soft smile tugs at his lips. “just thinking…”

“about what?” you ask curiously.

toji grins at you, cocking his head fondly. “when we have a kid, i want the little brat to be just like that.”

[cripplecryptid]

How do ppl share a bedroom. Like with a sibling or a partner it doesn't even matter. How are you supposed to have your daily/weekly hysterical cry sesh to keep you normal???

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

cinnamon girl // theodore nott x fem reader

"violet blue green red to keep me at arms length dont work"

playlist : cinnamon girl - lana del rey

summary : everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.

sunshine reader , y/n used , hufflepuff reader

masterlist

"theo!" you called out happily , running to the boys side and catching his wrist to stop his strides down the corridor, "hi, ive been meaning to talk to you!".

he looked at you , seeming displeased and just grunted in response , turning away and not even looking at your smiling face that admired him so softly.

"so you have a match on saturday and i was just wondering wether i should support you or hufflepuff? i always try and do my best in encouraging you but when youre against my house it becomes difficult-"

"i dont care do whatever." he said simply , finally turning to look back at you with an annoyed face.

your expression dropped for a split second , a moment so small it was hardly detectable but for that single second your smile dropped completely. and theo noticed. he thought that was probably the first time in your whole life youve stopped smiling. and the first time youve dropped your delicate hold on his wrist.

but you quickly regained composure , smiling up at him although not as sweetly as before , it almost seemed strained this time , "right , thats fine. ill just see what i can do closer to the time. bye theodore"

theodore. ouch. theo watched as you walked away silently , not turning back at all. he tried not to read too much into you , he didnt want to think he cared enough to, but hearing you call him by his full name and not theo? he hated to admit it stung a little more than he thought it would.

----

"hey!" you said enthusiatically as you sat down besides your close friend hannah , she looked up from the desk and greeted you back.

usually in charms you found yourself sat besides her , talking all lesson or admiring theodore , but you could help but avoid his side of the room like its the plague.

the plague being the pretty ravenclaw girl that for some reason was sat next to him as they discussed something civilly. usually theo sat with mattheo or alone since mattheo wasnt regularly spotted in charms , so to see him sat next to a girl youve never seen him with? you felt your heart shatter right onto the ground around you.

"y/n? are you listening?" hannah tried to ask you until she followed where you stared and saw theodore with the ravenclaw , "oh".

you nodded besides her , forcing a tight smile onto your lips and finally dragging your eyes from them , "its fine , everyone knows he doesnt like me back, i guess i was just in denial about it."

hannah saddened at the forced laugh that you let out , pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back , "he was never good enough for you anyways. youre a whole galaxy and theodore nott is the moon , nothing compared to you."

"i love the moon," you said softly as your eyes began to well up with tears.

hannah pulled back and scanned the room before grabbing your hand , "professor flitwick isnt here yet , leave now and if he asks ill say you were sick. go to our dorms and ill get snacks from the kitchen and we can stay in tonight , sound good?"

you smiled happily at her , "thank you hannah"

she returned the smile with a light nod before handing you your bag and shooing you away , watching as you left the classroom hastily.

failing to feel theos eyes that burned into your fleeting figure.

---

the next few days were odd for theodore nott. something felt missing but he couldnt quite place his finger on it...

that was until he made eye contact with you in the hall and watched in suprise as you looked away and practically sprinted down the corridor , rather than coming up to him with a bright small and a new topic to rant about.

and he didnt like it. not one bit.

for the rest of the week he picked up on the things that you did - or didnt do.

how your smile would drop when you made eye contact with theodore. how youd talk happily to lorenzo and then make an excuse to leave as soon as theo tried to join the coversation. how you stopped sitting next to him in potions and instead sat with hermione , chatting away to her and not noticing the glare theodore sent towards the both of you.

but the one thing that pushed him over the edge was when he flew out onto the quidditch pitch and immediately searched for you in the stands , only to spot you waving at diggory , wearing his jersey?!

theodore had never felt jealous before -lies- but in that moment he held onto his broom a lot harder than before , his whole body felt hotter and his eyes glared holes into cedric diggorys back.

lets just say that throughout the match he made sure to shove diggory with every chance he got , eventhough none of it was necessary as they had completely different roles in the game.

"nott get off diggorys fucking broom and do your job!" adrian shouted at him from across the pitch , making theodore roll his eyes before giving cedric a last shove and flying away.

from the stands you watched theodore in confusion ,along with the rest of the audience , staring as he yet again flew in the path of cedric and shoved him to the side before contiuing to chase the hufflepuff chaser.

"it seems like nott is more concered in giving the golden boy diggory a good push rather than actually fulfilling his job , typical slytherins playing dirty in my opinion-" lees comentating was cut off by professor mcgonagall clearing her throat , "sorry professor."

----

the match had ended and purely because of the rest of the slytherin team , they won , however the poor performance of theodore threw the whole teams goal points off.

"what the fuck is wrong with you theodore!?" draco shouted as the team entered the changing tents , "if i hadnt gotten that golden snitch we wouldve lost AND been the comedic relief of all the other houses!"

theodore let out a heavy sigh before sitting down on one of the benches with his head in his hands , pulling his hair aggresively, "shove off malfoy im not in the mood".

"all this because of some hufflepuff mudblood wearing diggorys jersey-" draco started again , before being pushing harshly by a now infuriated theodore.

"the FUCK did you say malfoy?!" theo screamed in his face , being pulled away by lorenzo who tried to calm the situation.

"guys we won and thats all that matters!" enzo tried to reason with the furious boys.

"barley , berkshire! theo over here nearly fucked everything up because of childish jealousy!" draco shouted back , venom dripping off his words.

"who said i was fucking jealous?" theo shouted back as majority of the team turned to him with disbelief.

"you nearly dropped the quaffle twice because you were too busy figuring out how you could shove cedric on the way to the goalhoops-" mattheo started before being cut off by the curtain of the tent being pulled back.

revealing a girl covered in bright yellow , covering her eyes and trying to walk into the tent without falling, "c-can i look?".

the whole tent gaped in shock before lorenzo finally spoke up , "yeah..yeah you can look y/n dont worry."

you quickly uncovered your eyes and blinked as they adjusted to the light , looking at the scene before you which showed theodore being held back from draco by lorenzo and a disapproving mattheo stood in front of the lockers.

"theodore what are you-" you started before being cut off by the boy shaking his head rapidly.

"stop - stop calling me theodore i cant stand when you call me that."

you stared in suprise as theodore shrugged off lorenzos hands and walked over to you, this was possibly the most emotion the boy had shown to you.

"oh uh right sorry , i just wanted to say well done for the match. i was rooting for hufflepuff but there isnt any other team that deserve it more than you guys!" you smiled awkwardly as the team thanked you a short silence following , "anyways , theres a certain hufflepuff thats a bit gutted about his loss so im gonna-"

"diggory?" theo asked with a sour tone as he stepped closer to you , not breaking eye contact.

"yeah , hes upset but i said if he lost id make him a crochet blanket to make him feel better so-"

"but you only make me crochet things." theodore said coldly as you stuttered again , unfamiliar with this behaviour from theo.

"ha , yeah i do but um , i didnt think you liked them so i thought id just put my efforts elsewhere!" you laughed awkwardly.

"the blanket you made him's on his bed , he takes it home aswell because he cant sleep without it-" mattheos teasing was cut off by a sharp glare from theo.

"shut up riddle!" theo seethed before turning back to you.

"no dont be embarassed theo - its nice to know you love it!" you said , finally regaining a comfort in theos presence at this news.

"i love you." he stated simply as the whole room fell into a dead silence.

your mouth hung wide open , as did his teamates before they were ushered out of the room by enzo , your moment with theo requiring the upmost privacy.

"you- you what?!" you asked in pure shock as the final player exited the tent.

"i love you," theo stated again as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"but- but you like hate me , you dont even reply when i talk or smile at me-" you ranted.

"youre right, i hate you. i hate how you love me more than anyone else has before you... i hate your hair and your perfect smile.... and i despise how you make me feel," he stepped so close that your bodies touched and his hand rested on your cheek firmly , "but theres a very thin line between love and hate."

you gaped up at him in suprise , "theo-"

he quickly took a step back and walked to his locker , pulling out a top, more specifically his jersey that he now handed to you.

"take that god awful jersey off i dont think i can handle looking at it for one more second" he said bitterly , staring down at the yellow top you wore with distaste.

"i love you too." you said , still frozen in place and staring up at him.

"i think everyone knows that princess." he said with a laugh , the first laugh youd heard from him in a long time.

a blush spread to your cheeks , both at his words and the addictive sound of his soft chuckle.

"why have you always ignored me if you love me?" you asked still being slightly unpleased with his random confession.

his smile dropped as he frowned and looked at you sympathetically , "i just thought you were doing it all for fun , maybe to mock me or something. i tried to shut out the fact i like you and it clearly didnt work , i was just ...scared." he confessed in a moment of complete vunerability.

you admired him with care and empathy as he spoke from his heart so purely , before your face cracked into a teasing smile , "you know i wasnt actually rooting for hufflepuff?"

he smirked wrapping arms around your waist and pulling you in closer ,"oh really?"

you nodded and pulled the braid in your hair over your shoulder , to reveal the dark green bow that wrapped around the end of it.

theodore grinned upon seeing this as you both giggled , a sweet first kiss following the heart to heart.

[windser]

imagining all the excuses sylus uses to get you to stay over. the easiest always it's way too late, kitten. because even when you're at your best, even outside of the n109 zone or linkon city, you shouldn't be traversing outside alone. but when there is still enough light outside to light your way and your belly is full, he starts pulling at the lowest hanging strings.

it's rather cold outside, sweetie. i did promise to send you back as i got you.

you had me buy all these ingredients and won't help me eat them. at least stay for breakfast.

it's storming kitten, be smart.

at it's core, it was for your safety but sometimes you wished he would just admit the desires latching on to them.

“you’re just saying that to keep me here for the night, aren’t you?” 

sylus hums a quiet no and skimmed his fingers across the fabric covering your stomach before dipping down into the waistband of the pants you were wearing. 

“sylus, you do realize that there is nothing dangerous about driving through a trickle of rainfall, right?” 

sylus shook his head from where it rested above your heart, his hair tickling the underside of your chin as his mouth formed words into your skin, “the storm is supposed to get worse by the hour. besides, the darkness doesn't help. if you stay i can make chocolate.” 

while the promise of rich, warm chocolate coating your tongue has it's own intrigue, you can't help but push more.

“are you going to actually make this or are you going to convince me to stay in bed?” 

as his eyelashes fanned across his strong cheekbones, you curled your fingers into the short roots of his hair and let his breath wash over the fastening of your pants. 

“if I’m being perfectly honest,” he murmured with a twitch of his lips, “i was going to kiss you until you forgot about the chocolate,” - he caressed the band with his thumb - “and then take you to bed myself.”

a hum filtered itself past your lips and settled onto sylus tongue when he leaned to capture your mouth with a breath of fresh air. strands of his hair twisted and pulled as your hands grappled with bringing him closer to you; window panes shuddered in response to the way your heart hammered like thunder beneath your chest; droplets of rain splattered from the night sky and enveloped you in a sheath of erratic heartbeats and broken-off whispers. 

with a small shuddering breath, sylus pulled back and searched for the conformation in your eyes. “tell me you’ll stay.” 

the sky erupted in crackle of light. for a split second, a flash of gold skittered along sylus' skin in result of lightning striking the ground. the hue settled more prominently into his eyes as you silently peered into them.

“i’ll stay.”