#kind of a songfic but not really?

[so-long-soldier-writes]

It's a Cruel Summer, With You

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai's never had anyone tell him they love him. he panics when he hears it for the first time.

tags: based on cruel summer by taylor swift, mild enemies to lovers, drinking / alcohol, secret relationship, summer love, love confessions, fear / panic, past trauma affecting relationships, emotional hurt, unrequited love (but not really), break-up, heartbreak, unhappy ending, one teensy edgar allen poe reference

word count: 5k

a/n: anon, i apologize once more for the amount of time this took! i hope you like it, and i hope i did taylor swift justice. 🩷 i also hope it makes sense bc sometimes i feel like my thoughts are just all over the place 😅

You were staring daggers into the back of his head, three days after a drastic turning point in their lives. And he, feeling your eyes upon him, turned to face you and smiled. That enraged you like nothing else; no man had ever had such an audacity with you, to raise the hell that he had and still offer a smile. You looked back down at your drink, still fuming, and still aware of him watching you, and texted your friends about it. One replied with an equal disgust, another sent a funny-to-her joke, and there was no response from the third. 

“Maybe he’s got a sweet spot for you,” she had said.

“Ha.”

A sweet spot that’d make him kill you last, maybe.

You rolled your eyes exhaustedly, but by the time you looked back down, someone had slunk into the booth across from you. You jumped, then rolled your eyes a second time at the realization of who it was.

“Hey cutie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kai shrugged, unbothered. He kept eye contact with you in a way that made it hard to look away; his blue eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. They weren’t bright, like Damon’s, but instead had a touch of darkness in them. Like storm clouds rolling in on a bright, sunny day. They threaten rain, but you’re not sure if the downpour will come today or tomorrow.

Kinda like how he came into Mystic Falls. 

“What do you want?” You bit, after about thirty seconds of staring.

“Are you scared of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of me?” He repeated, eerily softly. 

“Why would you think that?” Forced bravery is better than none, especially when faced with Kai Parker. 

“There’s a slight tremor in your voice. Only one finger touches the table, as if you’re unable to settle. You struggle to meet my eyes.”

“What are you, a psychologist?”

“I’m a sociopath.”

Shocker. 

“So?”

“I notice things.” He took a sip of your coffee. Reached out across the table, met your eyes, and sipped your drink. Again, the audacity. “I spent a lot of my childhood isolated. I had a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they were all taught to be afraid of me. I know how to read the signs.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s what they’d say, too.”

“Well I’m not your siblings, and I’m not putting up an act. I don’t trust you, and I think you’re an ass, but I’m not afraid of you.” Your statement’s bold, but he had struck something fierce in you. A nerve, maybe on purpose, that wasn’t going to let him win this time. 

Kai smiled at that. His gaze dropped to the table, surveying your hands once more. His own pointer finger dragged along the wood. “I like you, Y/N. You’re plucky.”

The words took a moment to register - Kai saying he liked you. Kai didn’t like anyone. 

He got up to leave, causing you to turn towards him, prepared to jump out of the booth if you had to. “Well don’t.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I don’t want you to like me. I want nothing to do with you; you said it yourself, you’re a sociopath, and I don’t need that kind of bad energy in my life.”

That seemed to be funny to him, judging by the way he chuckled. “Okay, Y/N.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I won’t like you then.”

And with that, he was gone. 

Of course, he wasn’t gone - gone. Kai was never gone - gone from anything, even when people yelled at him to leave. He would disappear for a couple days, but he always came back. 

And somehow, after your interaction, you’d see him more frequently at the grill, too. He’d never talk to you, but you could feel his gaze. His stone cold blues would linger on you, almost like an animal stalking prey. 

It made you anxious, jittery. But somewhere, secretly, also a bit excited. 

He was dangerous in a way that drew you in. He had this aura about him that intrigued you as much as it scared you. You knew what he had done, and what he was capable of, and yet he still occupied the curious corners of your mind. 

And somehow, he seemed to know that. 

♫

How it happened from there is something you still question. Death glares became stolen glances, became blushing smiles, and by the next time he joined you at your booth, you didn’t try to fight him off. Kai ordered an uncharacteristically pink cocktail to match your own tropical choice. Neither said much as you both drank the rum mixtures down to the ice. You communicated in eye contact, mostly, as if daring the other to speak. Your stubborn personalities that should’ve clashed seemed to meld together instead. An intense staring contest was born. You found yourself entertained in the game, and quickly, enjoying it, too.

The booze soaked your brain as you continued to drink; your thoughts were fuzzy, and whenever you tried to catch them, they’d dissipate like cotton candy dropped in water. When Liv closed the restaurant around midnight, she unknowingly crashed the floodgates that weakly stood between you two. Ten feet out onto the street, you fell into him and he held you up. You laughed in his arms, partly due to your own drunken state, but partly that it’s Kai keeping you on your toes. He held you tight until you found your footing, just for you to crash your lips onto his unsuspecting own. The witch, taken aback but not opposed to it, let you taste him for a moment before kissing back. He pushed you up to the nearest wall, feeling and exploring, before hailing a ride back to your place. 

It had been forever for both of you. The uber driver with a ‘no touching’ rule sobered you up a little, but not enough to make you think twice about it. By the time he laid you down on your sheets, any doubt in your mind had fizzled out. He was a gentle lover, much to your surprise, likely because it was such an unfamiliar feeling to be so intimate with another. The little control you tried to take was met with a laugh, and you understood the signal. You didn’t mind being underneath him, though, nor did you mind him staying the night.

Guilt struck you when you first woke up in his arms, but not enough to barr yourselves from meeting again. The first few times you had to be drinking to convince yourself it was okay, but the more morning-afters you spent together, the less ashamed you started to feel. With time, nights started to feel less like hookups and more like something else. He became something you adored when you had, and craved when you did not. The feelings were mutual, though harder to pull out from the siphon, until you asked him directly, putting both your hearts out for the other to grab.

“What are we?” You asked, head leaning on the vending machine as he fetched himself a post-high gatorade. A bag of cookies were held in your own hand from the exchange you made one minute prior. 

“Having fun,” Kai replied.

“Kai…”

“Or so I think,” he followed his words, questioning the look on your face. 

“Are we anything more? Will we ever be?”

A loud voice down the hall that vaguely resembled his sister made a sharp remark to another person. His response sounded closer, as if they were heading in your direction. Kai grabbed your arm and muttered a simple cloaking spell until they both passed. Liv and Tyler both disappeared into her room, then Kai removed his hand. His touch lingered on your skin for a moment. You’ve grown to quite like the feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’m not exactly the person for relationships, if you aren’t aware. I’m a sociopath that was locked in complete isolation for eighteen years.”

“I don’t care.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I like you. I don’t want this to stop. I want it to be more.”

“I’m not built for this.”

“But do you want it?”

His mouth went dry as he already knew the truth. He did. He wanted you so much, but fear held him back like a dog on a leash. He didn’t have much slack. “I want you,” he finally said. “I want this to work.”

“I’m not good at relationships, either. We’re figuring this out together.”

Kai seemed to accept that better, and two minutes later, he climbed back under the sheets with you, turning on a movie and sharing snacks until you fell asleep. 

♫

As your relationship progressed, it was tested, like all relationships ever are. You grew closer, more comfortable, as summer went on. Much of your time spent together was at night; you hadn’t told your friends, not ready for their questions nor their judgment, nor did you want the word out to his coven yet, afraid of whatever wrath his father could bring if he were to disapprove. You were still figuring things out, still learning about each other, and testing yourselves through time, and that was okay. Life isn’t something to be learned in a day, it’s something in which to be present to see where it takes you.

So, you let yourselves live, to do just that. On top of rooftops and beside small creeks, you snuck out to enjoy each other’s company. Mystic Falls has a lot of places to hide if you know where to look. 

A couple times, you’ve almost ran into others. More than anyone being Liv and Tyler, also avoiding her father. Once, you’ve ducked under bushes to hide from Bonnie. Kai kissed your neck while his hand was clamped over your mouth, daring you to give away your position, while playfully inhibiting your chance to do so.

Sometimes, you were drunk when you found yourselves venturing the town together. The bar in which neither Matt nor Liv worked became a hotspot for you. But instead of ending the night short, you opted to explore the late hours in each other’s company. The alcohol wore off quickly, but the drunkenness brought on by your unconfessed love never did. 

Kai, as it turns out, was easy to fall in love with. He was charming when you first met, but you were tickled to learn that underneath his manipulation tactics, he could be just as endearing authentically. He was a jokester and a flirt, whether across a room when you’d spot each other in public, or when you were hanging out together alone. You were never afraid to be alone with him. If your friends knew you were out with him, alone, at night, they would’ve freaked, but he always made you feel safe. And, once he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you, he revealed a side that could be sweet, too. 

Even after arguments, you were able to patch things up as if they hadn’t happened. Sometimes, he’d be bristling and volatile, but you knew that a lot of his anger came from a place of fear. You learned what to say that would calm him down; you told him what he needed to hear to feel safe again. You’d provide him with the comfort he’d always desired, and when he settled, he’d melt into your touch and softly request forgiveness.

You complimented each other perfectly. And while it took you a moment to name the emotion, the feeling had been there all along. It was love. 

♫

You were only slightly drunk the first time you realized the truth. Kai was painted in perfect, purple lighting, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when they met yours. You stumbled towards him and put your arms around his neck. He caught you, hands finding your waist. The music seemed to fade out as you swayed with him to the beat. It was as if a bubble captured you both, drowning out the rest of the world, making him your world, and in that moment, nothing else existed. You kissed him quickly, desperately, like an addict gone too long without a hit. He met you halfway, equally addicted. 

And then, because you were young, and stupid, and courageously in love, you blurted out the words swimming restlessly in your mind,

“I love you.”

You looked up at him, not expecting an answer just yet, but to offer an encouraging smile. Before your gaze even reached his, his body tensed. His hands felt like ice upon your nervously warmed skin, and his once-strong grip on your waist loosened. Kai wore an expression of confusion, different from the emotion that you tasted on his lips. You opened your mouth to retract the words, but nothing came out. The bubble that consumed you seemed to crack; the music previously blocked filled your eardrums once again. 

A fraction of a second later, you were guided to a hallway by your fingertips. The narrow path reduced some of the music, but most of the traffic. The man of your affection took to one wall, leaving you in the middle. You tried for his hand after he let it go, but dropped it at the discomfort he seemed to feel in having you hold it. 

You racked your brain for the right words, but nothing seemed perfect. You stared at the ground beneath your feet for a half second longer until he spoke, 

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t. What did I do wrong?” He only shook his head, prompting you further. “Was it what I said or when I said it? Because I don’t think it’s wrong of me to confess what I feel for you when I know that it’s true.”

“It can’t be true. You can’t feel that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Provide me with a reason,” you interrupted, “or let me do as I please. I want to love you. I do, and I won’t apologize for it.” 

“Y/N-”

“We’ve had some tough times together, I know we have, but we’ve gotten through them. We - us, together - have worked through so much to get here. Of course I love you, there’s so much effort and, and, love, that connects us.” You paused, letting your thoughts catch up to your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to acknowledge it, if you’re not ready. I know it’s a big step.”

“You can’t go there, Y/N.”

“I know, okay, maybe it was too much, too soon. I’m sor-”

“No, you can’t ever go there. You can’t love me and you shouldn’t. I’m not designed for relationships, they’re not meant for me. Do you not remember the things I’ve done?”

“We’ve talked about this, Kai. You confided in me about your fears, but we handled them, I thought. Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do, but-”

“‘Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.”

“By Poe,” Kai finished.

“And it’s true. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I want to love you, and I do.”

“But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t excuse the things I’ve done just because you want to see me for someone who I am not. You shouldn’t be so desperate to see a difference in me that you convince yourself you love me.”

“What?! Kai, I’m not excusing nor am I desperate. I know you’re different from the you that wrought pain upon the town. That guy’s gone, buried, with this you in his place. And I quite like this you, and I’ve learned to love him, because his progress is worth loving. He is worth loving. You are.”

“The old Y/N would never say such things about her sworn enemy. You’d never dare hold his hand, nor kiss his lips, nor say such things, because you’d know better, and if you did, it’d be because of some horrible nightmare, or some instance where I spelled you to get what I needed, because Y/N, we’re living in a fantasy, and none of this is real.”

“I don’t understand! This is real! We’re here, together, and we were dancing, and we were happy, and now we’re in this hallway. Still together, but now questioning if the summer we’ve spent together has all been a hoax, or if that’s the booze talking.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You have to be, to think what you’re saying is true.” You paused, heartbroken, and afraid to show it, but pretty sure the choke in your words already had. “So are you saying you’ve never meant it? All the times you’ve kissed me were just folly? Or the nights we stayed up until the sun rose again were only dreams I made up?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I know what we’ve done, and I know we’ve shared moments, but a fantasy is all this is for us. Something we want, but cannot have. We have to wake up some day.”

“I disagree, I think we can make it work.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This was never supposed to be a long-term thing.”

“But we said it could be! We said it could make it work!”

“And that’s what makes it a fantasy! We both know that’s a lie.”

“Kai, I don’t understand. Ten minutes ago, we were fine. Yesterday, you gave me a kiss that swept me off my feet; that replaced all my organs with butterflies; that made me feel like full-bloomed roses on the nicest day of the year. You made me feel cherished, and happy, and beautiful, but now, I feel like I’m on the end of a well-thought out joke, and everyone’s finally allowed to laugh.”

“I’m not saying this to break your heart. I’m just trying to be realistic.” He reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek, but you smacked his thumb away. 

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but you still tried to talk through them. “I thought we were being realistic when we stayed up talking, all those nights, about how we knew each other’s flaws but were willing to work through them anyway. I would think, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t have spent a whole week together and considered getting an apartment to share, because we work just that well.”

“That only proves my point further. We haven’t been together long enough to make big decisions like that.”

“Then we’ll put it on pause and address it later.”

“Y/N-”

“Why are you doing this? Why does it seem like you’re giving up on us? Why are your words sounding like a preface to a break up?”

“Because they are,” he confessed, “because they have to be.”

“What do you mean, ‘they have to be?’”

“We can’t work. You can’t love me.”

“But I do, and I want to, and we do! We’ve managed to make it work, despite our-”

“But how long do you think we can keep this up? When will our differences outweigh our desires to stay together? When will we tell your friends about us? My family? We are too different for us to work, and I’m too damaged to be loved by you. We have to stop living in this fantasy.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“So what, have you been planning this? Have you been waiting for the perfect time? Funny, that the perfect time seems to be when I tell you I l-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t say it again.”

“What?”

“The less you say it, the less you’ll believe it.”

“That’s bullshit. I believe it in the deepest corners of my heart. You’re etched into my bones. You’re the shimmer of light in the darkest parts of my mind. I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it, and I won’t believe that I’ve made this all up in my mind. It’s okay that you don’t love me, but don’t you dare try to say you feel nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Tell me all the terrible things you’ve done, and let me love you anyway’.”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t. I can’t control my heart nor its desires. It wants you; you have it. Tell me you don’t crave it. I know you crave love, Kai. I know it in the way you kiss me, and in the way you hold me. I know it from the time you confessed, at two in the morning when you were too tired to hold back, and I know it from when you told me, clear as day, on that Wednesday afternoon. I love you, and I’m not afraid to love you. Why don’t you give in to what I know you want?!”

Because your love isn’t mine to take. 

Because I don’t deserve it.

Because you’re a gemstone, perfect and pure, and I’m the dirt from which it was pulled.

“Because I don’t feel the same for you,” he said instead, “I’m not capable of love. I’m a sociopath, and anything I’ve ever said was for my own fleeting pleasure. It’s over now. I’m done. I’m bored with us.”

“What? No. Something’s wrong. This is not the same Kai I spent the summer falling in love with. Are you Damon in disguise? Pulling some sick prank?”

“I’m not, Y/N. It’s me, being realistic, and telling you I don’t love you, and I never will. It’s time to go home, Y/N, and to your own bed, in your own sheets.”

The tears streaming down your face run your make-up, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “But my sheets smell like you.”

“Then wash them.”

The harshness in his tone was unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. When you finally brought yourself to meet his eyes, there was no light inside them, no humanity. His jaw was tensely set, and for the first time in months, you saw the Kai that everyone feared when he had broken himself free of his eighteen-year punishment. Scared and sorrowful, you backed away from him. He didn’t follow. You backed further and further away until you were stumbling out of the bar. The wicked August heat kissed your neck like he used to -  passionately. You grabbed your hair, fumbling it up into a bun to get it off your skin, then searched for your phone to call a ride. 

As the white sedan approached your meeting spot, you trained your blurry vision on the door, but Kai never came out. He never shouted your name, hurried down the steps, nor caught you in an apologetic embrace, blaming his temporary ignorance on too much to drink. He never peered through a fingerprint-stained window, watching you from the glass, wondering if it's too late to take back what was said. It was just silent, as car engines roared and drunk couples chattered around you. 

When your ride finally came, you cried harder than you ever had in your life. Your driver glanced to the backseat, but didn't know a good time to interrupt, so he didn't. He offered a polite smile as you got out, thanked you for the five-star rating, and made sure you got in your apartment safely before pulling back onto the road. 

You barely made it through the door before crashing on the couch. Exhaustion settled in your bones halfway through the drive, and you couldn’t even think about climbing the stairs. The worst headache of your life pounded in your skull. Water was too far of a walk, so you let it throb. 

You tried your best not to think about Kai. His words rang in your head on repeat like an old antique bell - loud, heavy, constant. It almost felt like the whole night was a fluke. A nightmare. A spell, perhaps done by his father, or one of your disappointed friends. When you wake up, he’d be there, kissing your fingertips as the smell of coffee fills the air. You let this thought comfort you, and let it soften your heart. Although, deep down, you knew the truth. 

He wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want you. 

You’ve never known pain like this before.

♫

You can only ignore your friends for so long. Blaming a long to-do list can only give you so many excuses, and when Caroline messages you mid-afternoon on a Friday if you’d meet them at the Scull Bar, you realize you don’t have any more excuses left. So, cautiously, you pull yourself from your bed and drag your feet to your closet. You still haven’t washed your sheets, despite wanting to be rid of his once-comforting smell. It’s more stubbornness than anything, refusing to do the chore. If he thinks throwing a piece of fabric in the wash will rid you of him, he’s a damn fool.

You hadn’t been lying. He owns a part of your heart, and that can’t be simply washed away with some eco-friendly detergent.

Truthfully, you think, ignoring the heaviness in your bones as you enter the Scull Bar, the only way to remove him would be to carve out your heart entirely; to separate it from its lifeline and from all that’s familiar. But, you can’t, so you choose to let it bleed instead, and hope it doesn’t seep through your clothes. 

A vague sadness hangs above your heads, but none of your friends know the cause. You told them you were tired before joining them. You must not have gotten a good night’s sleep.

After all, it’s the first time in Mystic Falls where something tragic isn’t happening. Damon and Elena are planning out their lives, Stefan and Caroline are newly together, and Bonnie and Enzo, a quite unexpected pair, seem to be happy. Jo is five months pregnant, and Kai has left her alone. The girls wonder if that’s of his own volition, or if someone or something is distracting him, but you don’t offer any suggestions. When they then ask you about your own dating life, you only shrug. They tease playfully, having no idea about the wreckage your heart is still trying to piece back together. The cause seems hopeless. You don’t even have the energy to confide in them. 

The topic finally changes, but only because the one who dropped your glass heart enters. You turn when you catch a bit of his familiar cologne, but remind yourself he’s no longer yours and turn again just as fast. The girls let their gazes linger on him as if daring him to bother them, and for a moment, Kai wonders if you told them. But then, as they shrug and go back to their conversation, he knows you didn’t. Otherwise, they’d be hurling bitter words and sharp tools at him for breaking their best friend’s heart. 

And honestly, he wishes they were. 

It’s what he deserves, after all. 

♫

“I love you,” you had said, only a couple weeks ago. 

His heart stopped. His throat went dry. 

The words seemed to have been shouted at him, despite the booming bass around them. You weren’t yelling, though, you were simply telling the truth. 

A truth he wasn’t ready to hear. A confession he didn’t know how to process. 

How could you, a perfect person, love him, someone so tainted and dark? 

How could he ever love you the way you deserved? 

He did love you, of course. He knew it long before you ever confessed, but it was never something he felt okay to share. 

You always made him feel safe. Comfortable. Dare he say it, loved. 

But love was something he had never felt before, and to have something means that it can be lost. And to not lose it tragically, he must be the one to take it away. 

Hearing the words fall from your lips was both the best and the worst thing he could ever hear. He craves love, he knows he’s admitted it. He craves it more than anything else in the world. But wanting it and having it are two very different things, and now that he has it, he regrets asking for it. 

He had to hurt you then, before your soul could be completely shattered later. He had to stop it. Right then. Before he let you in too much and you got too attached.

So, he lied. 

He broke his own heart with every word, but it was nothing compared to the damage he knew it was doing to your own. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, hold you tightly, and say it was all just a spell - an outside force trying to drive you apart - but he couldn’t. His fear of hurting you triumphed over his love for you. His mouth spoke before his mind could process the words he professed. He became unrecognizable to himself by the time he delivered his final blow. Your tears stained your perfect face and your posture was defeated, but he was no longer the one that could offer any solace. He was now the one that ruined you, and there was no coming back from what he had done. 

How terrifying it is, that three little words can make or break you. 

How terrifying it was, to wake up the next morning and realize the damage caused. To have to come to terms with the fact that he had broken the only good thing in his life. To imagine the love of his life sitting on the couch, stirring coffee, with a head full of questions neither will ever be able to answer. 

“I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it…”

“I love you,” ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

[highladyluck]

List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them (tagged by @sixth-light)

Midnight Cabaret (WoT/WoT show, Rand/Ishy/Lanfear and/or LTT/Mierin/Elan) - This was for the 2023 WoT Secret Santa. The premise is kinda 'wouldn't it be fucked up if LTT was already haunting Rand just a little, especially in the World of Dreams?' Also: 'you could totally use the World of Dreams to do a musical episode, and I can prove it.'

Concerning the open Secretarial position in the Andoran Ter'angreal R&D Department (WoT, epistolary, Setalle Anan) - Ah, the first installment of the ATRDD universe! This started out as a joke about how I like writing cover letters, and how working with Elayne and the entire Andoran defense budget to make ter'angreal is my dream job. After I posted it I decided I could totally write at least two multi-chapter stories about Elayne and moral hazard. Spoiler alert: it has been 3 years and I have not done this, but I do have elaborate outlines.

Al'Thor by Asha'mouth (WoT, filk about Rand) - 2022 Wot Secret Santa gift, it's literally just filk of Smash Mouth's All Star but I refined the scansion to within a millimeter of its life. This thing is POLISHED. I had the title in my ideas file for years, and when I got a giftee who I knew liked my filk I had the perfect excuse to actually work on it.

Polar Research (WoT, Aviendha/Elayne) - This was a vignette prompt on tumblr around the end of 2022 from @primeideal: Aviendha at the polar research station. I loved having an excuse to write more in the ATRDD universe and show Aviendha using her Talent of identifying ter'angreal. Also I will never ever miss the opportunity to point out that Shai'tan's workshop is at the North Pole.

A Clothes Encounter (WoT/Les Mis musicalverse, Enjolras and Beslan) - Just checked the original publication date for this crossover on FF.net and it was October 2005! It was in response to an offhand livejournal comment about Enjolras/Beslan. It ended up more E/R but it does provide an origin story for musical!Enjolras's distinctive vest.

Tagging whoever wants to do it! Show us your back catalogue!

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[shardsofmarxx]

Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff

Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)

Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)

As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.

“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something. 

You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”

“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.” 

You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.

“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.

“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”

You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”

"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.

“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.

Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.

“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”

You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself? 

You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.

"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.

That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives. 

“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”

You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did. 

He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”

You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation. 

Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”

“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did. 

“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.

You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important. 

You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.

“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.

You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.

Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.

You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.

“Y/N!!! Hel-!”

You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.

“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.

“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.

“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.

“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine. 

“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.

“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”

Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt. 

After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.

“And now, the grand finale!”

You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.

“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed. 

Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating. 

You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.

Suddenly, it stopped.

“Hey Y/N.”

As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze. 

“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.

You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.

You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs. 

Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.

“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”

You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. 

Basically, you looked like crap.

Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.

He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault. 

"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”

He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.

“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”

“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.

Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.

“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."

Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.

“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.

Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”

You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest. 

“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.

“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”

You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.

Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke. 

“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.

“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."

Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.

“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, we sure do.”

Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.

“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response. 

“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.

You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.

“What did you say, Spencer?”

“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms. 

“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thanks so much for reading!

[samkerrworshipper]

exile | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song exile by taylor swift

warnings: pure angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating (sort of), divorce

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin’, but the jokes not funny at all

Tonight isn’t much different from your normal Sunday night.

Barca had beaten Atletico convincingly early in the day, unsurprisingly.

Locker room celebrations had very quickly been moved to a popular Barcelona club, a place that a lot of your teammates were thriving in.

There was dancing, drinking, partying.

It was the Barca way, Sunday nights were a good time.

You were seated in a corner of the club, surrounded by the likes of Keira and Aitana, your more introverted group watching your friends on the dance floor.

Your eyes didn’t budge from your girlfriend, who was on the dance floor.

It wasn’t abnormal, Alexia was one of the first people to hit the floor after a good win, you were happy with that.

The part you were less happy with was who Alexia was choosing to dance with, and how she was choosing to dance with said person.

Alexia was tipsy, which was clear in her mannerisms and the constant laughter falling from her plump and beautifully red lips which were softly singing along to the song that was thrumming against the floor of the club.

She was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by other teammates, grinding up against Jenni to the beat of the music.

Their bodies were practically intertwined, Jenni’s arms tangled around Alexia’s waist whereas Alexia’s arms were reached behind her back, resting on the small of Jenni’s back.

It was almost pornographic the way they moved up and down against each other, more like an organised rhythm that was well practised in contrast to an alcohol influenced jig.

You don’t want to feel jealous, but you can’t help it when Alexia is grinding up and down on her ex girlfriend in ways that you wished she would to you.

No, the grinding, the public displays of attention, any evidence of love between the two of you, that had faded long ago.

I think I’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

You’re not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You’d love to be able to say that this isn’t a common occurrence, but it would just be a lie. Alexia is shamelessly attractive and dances like a stripper in all of the best ways.

You have appreciation for that, but a part of you always feels betrayed when Alexia so openly flaunts herself on somebody else, especially her ex, but it’s also something you’ve become accustomed to, whether you want to admit it or not, Alexia was never yours to keep, maybe for a short amount of time, but never long enough for her to take a permanent place in your life.

You don’t try and make excuses for her inattention to you anymore, not like when at the end of your honeymoon phase when Alexia started to drift.

It just hurt more, making up excuses when they were all untrue, you couldn’t defend Alexia’s actions, not to yourself, not to anybody on the team, not to the general public.

You were my town,

Now I’m in exile seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

For whatever reason it doesn’t bother you as much anymore.

You’ve watched Alexia walk out the door hundreds of times, and every single time she’s come back.

It’s some kind of weird toxic attachment where neither of you really love each other anymore but for whatever reason Alexia has chosen you to become attached to and you can’t do anything but sit by and watch as she detaches herself everyday only for her to reattach herself when she falls into your arms every night.

Once upon a time, Alexia was your everything, the reason your heart kept pumping, the solution to every single one of your problems.

I can see you starin’, honey

Like he’s just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

The worst of it all, Alexia looks, Alexia dances, Alexia smiles that same way she used to with you. You wonder if she’d smiled at Jenni the same way when they’d been together, if she’d loved her so viciously before becoming bored with her.

Alexia dances with Jenni like they’re the only two people in the room, and you’re frightfully aware that if anybody were to even attempt to get between them Alexia would put up a fight.

Second third and hundredth chances

Battling on breakin’ branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It’s not like the whole situation is new to you either.

There has been plenty of women before Jenni, and there will be plenty afterwards.

You’ve stopped trying to count the amount of women that Alexia has toyed around with whilst being in a relationship with you.

She doesn’t cheat, she doesn’t break that barrier, she dances, she smiles, she laughs, she gives away every part of herself that matters the very most to you.

Sex and libido be damned, you’d spend every single day of your life in pain if it meant you got to experience Alexia smiling at you once again, laughing or craking jokes in front of you.

Those moments, those chances, are long gone.

Her eyes, the beautiful greenish hazel orbs no longer bother themselves with you, it’s almost insulting how she so easily can smile at Jenni when she can never manage to even give you a little quirk of her lips here and there.

I think i’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

I’m not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You don’t even flinch when the dancing turns into an extremely intimately looking hug, the two women continuing to grind up and down on each other as they stare at each other with a kind of earnestness and conviction that would make any girls’ heart flutter.

Alexia long ago learnt that you would never dare to object to her rather unprofessional moments with her teammates, you didn’t have the heart to.

She didn’t care if she hrut you, didn’t care if it killed every single organ and burst every single blood vessel in your body if it meant she was having a good time.

You were my crown

Now i’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

Ever since your Alexia, your heart, your soul, your home, became La Reina, she hasn’t been the same.

She had her crown, she had her throne, she had the world beneath her feet.

You would never be good enough for her, how could anyone be?

It’s fine, you're used to it, you're used to the sideways glances at other women, your okay with Alexia partying with other women. What you aren’t used to, or okay with is Alexia making out with her ex girlfriend, right in front of you, in the middle of a club, with all of your teammates surrounding.

Suddenly, before you can think or breathe or do anything your standing up, before Keira can try to stop you and bolt from the club, finding the nearest door and pushing it open.

The cold rush of the Barcelona air in the empty alleyway is the only thing that forces you to take a breath, the brittle cold air forcing it’s way into your lungs and burning against your wet and tearful eyes.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying i can do for you

All this time

We always walked a very thin line

You don’t want to cry, not when subconsciously you are crying over a woman that hasn’t been remotely yours in a long time.

You are though, big fat tears are rolling down your face unceremoniously as you try to regain your composure.

You don’t ask much of Alexia, you don’t expect much when it comes to receiving affection from her or receiving anything much from her.

You do expect one thing, if she’s going to be in a relationship with you, then she is going to stay loyal, there is no room for infidelity in your life.

You can’t handle that, you can’t handle spending every minute of every day that you are apart from Alexia wondering what she’s getting up to behind closed doors. You trusted Alexia with one thing, and she managed to betray that one piece of trust you harboured for her.

You know that Alexia has always teetered on the line of things, often blurring the lines of infidelity, but she’s never crossed it, she’s never kissed another girl, she’s never stepped out on you.

So this, it feels like a train has hit you straight in the chest.

You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)

You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

You're not left out in the cold by yourself for long, the sound of the club side door opening, pulling you from your own mind.

Alexia is standing in front of you, hands fidgeting in front of her stomach as she looks at you, her front teeth biting down on her front lip as she tries to assess the damage.

“Bebita-I.”

You cut her off with your teary eyes and croaky voice.

“Ale I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know.”

The Alexia you’ve grown used to would walk away, leave you in the dust and go back to whatever fun she’s having, but she doesn’t.

“You won’t even hear me out?”

You look up at her, the tears instantly drying and your look of pure agony transitioning into something of anger.

“I won’t hear you out? Alexia you just fucking cheated on me, no warning, no signs, just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of me, I don’t want to know why, I don’t care, clearly you didn’t care when you were making out with another woman in front of me.”

Alexia bites down further on her lip, teetering on the edge of drawing blood as she observes you.

“It’s not like that.”

All this time

I never learned to read your mind (you never learned to read my mind)

I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)

‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

So many signs, so many signs

You didn’t even see the signs

You’ve known Alexia for ten years, you’ve been dating her for seven, married for four.

Those years don’t matter to her, they hardly matter to you anymore, but they mean something, you’ve devoted ten years of your life to a woman and sure, she’s not perfect, she’s everything but, it’s ten years of history though.

“It’s not like what? Alexia I can’t read your fucking mind, I can’t decipher everything you are thinking, so please, enlighten me, how the fuck is this not like that?”

Alexia, in all her years, has never seen you like this, you’ve never once raised your voice at her out of anger, she figures it’s a long time coming but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Can we just forget about it?”

That hurts you even more, unless Alexia has a magical brain wiping machine, you know that neither of you will ever be able to forget this, your teammates won’t forget it, it’s not something forgettable.

“Of course, let’s just forget about it, god forbid La Reina ever had to put in the work to turn her shit around and get her life together and admit she fucked up, no we just have to forget about all of this. Let’s just go home, sí? We can go hop into bed together and I’ll just pretend that the woman sleeping next to me doesn’t have her ex girlfriends scent and kisses all over her.”

Your tone is cut throat, as harsh as a sharp knife.

“Nena, please.”

Alexia looks genuinely upset, and your kind of glad, she deserves to feel a fraction of what you are feeling, a slither of the turmoil and insurmountable pain that you’ve experienced in the last five minutes.

“Did I miss the signs? Was I so blind to realise that you love Jenni more than me? You sure kiss her like you love her more than me. God I don’t even remember the last time you kissed me like that. Our honeymoon? The first Ballon D’or? It’s been years Alexia, years of me sitting around waiting patiently for you to turn this all around, to realise that I love you more than anything else in the world. It’s fine, you want out, you can have out, I’ll get my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, I’ll move out, I’ll move clubs.”

Alexia’s face drops, that;s the last thing she wants, the very bottom of her list.

“Bebé, no, we can work this out, I’ll go to couples therapy, we can make this better, we can turn this around.”

You shook your head, a new wave of tears dripping down your face and onto your favourite night out top as you struggle to keep your composure.

“Alexia, I won’t be married to somebody who’s cheated on me, you broke our vows, sacred vows that we made in front of god. Marriage to me is a commitment, it’s a promise, you swore to me, for better or for worse, until parted by death. One of us might not have died, but a part of our relationship did when you kissed Jenni, I’m done, all the sleepless nights, the lack of love, the borderline cheating, you’ve toed the line but this time you’ve obliterated the line, so I’m done.”

You push past her, back into the club so you can collect your things.

You don’t even make it to the table before Keira has you in her arms, shielding you from the music and people.

“Need to leave, I need to go.”

Keira nods at you, Lucy has now joined the huddle around you, the two of them working together to keep you away from the eyes of any of your teammates or general bystanders in the club.

“We’ll get you home, let’s get you out of here, hmm? You can come back home with us, you're always welcome in our spare room.”

From back out in the alley, Alexia feels sick to her stomach, and there is not much more she can do than pick her phone out of her pocket and dial the only number she can think of.

“Mamí, I’ve ruined it all.”

[snowsinterlude]

😵‍💫 - measuring fantasies.

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: at every gala, at every party, you could see a cerulean pair of eyes watching you from afar- measuring you, from head to toe. you could say you did the same.

c.w: experienced reader, flirting, creampie, unproctected sex, dom reader, coriolanus crushing on you, songfic, drunk sex, virginity loss (male)

eyes on his, hand on a cup of posca, you could see coriolanus snow from the other side of the hall, trying his best not to look back at you, which seemed to be kind of impossible since you were in such a tight black dress.

you have imagined his hands on your body before- well, c'mon, he's quite big isn't he? of course you're gonna look. of course you're gonna fantasize about his hands on your body, going up and down on your waist. it isn't even difficult to imagine it.

with such a pretty face, seeing him across the room seemed like a joke to the way you wanted to dominate him. make him beg and plead to be inside of your cunt. just the thought of it made you smile, wine lipstick being an invitation for his lips.

"coriolanus," you called. "festus is calling you on the other room"

he arched his brow, but the sight of you in front of him was great- perfect, even.

"where is he?" he asked, finishing the cup of posca- fuck the alcohol, it was his third cup. he needed it. he knew you would be with someone else, he didn’t want to see it. he wanted you to be with him.

"i'll show you, just follow me." you said, and he obeyed you promptly, enchanted by the sight of you, by your smell. mesmerized, truly.

then, you bought him to an empty room, whatever- the gala is being held by your parents. the room was yours to use.

"well, where is he?" he asked again, brow arched. cute, he really thought you have bought him there to talk with his colleague, how innocent.

you turned abruptly to him, finished off your glass of posca the quickest you could, threw it away and thanked heavens for the fur rug on the entire floor of your room. he looked at you, a bit scared, maybe surprised, and you walked to him, closing the door behind him and letting a lipstick stain on his white button-up shirt. you could buy another one for him, fuck it. for now, you needed to show him who was in charge.

"you really thought i would bring you here all alone just for you to talk to festus? you're so cute, love." you said. the alcohol on that glass was starting to hit on your brain, you didn't want to mess things up by calling him for the wrong name.

"i- well, uh-"

"shhh," you started "you know i see you looking at me, you know i look at you. just enjoy it, ok?" you said. then again, you were quite literally pinning him against the wall, closing any chance he could have to pull away from you.

your lipstick was smeared by his lips slamming on yours, his hands on your waist, your hands on his shoulders, then his hands travelled down your body just like you imagined, and again, you smiled against his lips when you felt his hands on your thighs, grabbing them for you to wrap them around his waist.

"you're terrible," he said, kaying you on the bed, getting on top. of course you wouldn't allow it. no man is supposed to be on top of you.

"and why is it?"

"you don't know how much i've been waiting for it. for you." he said, you smiled, kissing the smeared marks of your lipstick on his lips.

"go on. keep talking." you demanded it. it wasn't a question. you needed the answer.

"i dreamed of you. do you know what it is to wake up breathless?" he asked, burying his face on the curvature of your neck, going down to your cleavage.

"uhum. what did i do to you in your dreams?"

"so many things." he said "i questionated my sanity on all of them." he kissed the skin of your boob, pulling the dress down to see your boobs completely.

so desperate. almost starving, maybe.

"yeah, i can imagine." you joked. "guess dreams come true hm?" you kissed the bridge of his nose. "let's see... you don't have a condom now, do you?"

"no."

"you're a virgin aren't you?" he frowned, and kept himself quiet. you didn't need much more than that. you smiled at his sudden quietness, the small pout on his lips was cute. "it's fine, i don't mind."

his heart seemed to beat happily at those words, he almost smiled at it if he didn’t feel so embarassed. then he saw how you were sitting so nicely on top of him- your dress and his pants were the only things keeping you both separated. and god, look at him! he's so cute. looking at you with the hope that you would let him inside. look at him, already getting hard only from the thought of your cunt on him.

and you did let him inside, too anxious to see the faces he would make.

you pulled his dick out of it's confines, and honestly, the question to why he was still a virgin was something that sounded different now. he was big. truly big. and the way his tip teased your clit because of how you grabbed him made you wet, your eyes half closed as you heard the sounds you both were making, the wet sounds of your pussy gushing at the tip of his dick were like music to you, the prettiest orchestra you could listen to was the natural sounds of you teasing his throbbing dick.

he closed his eyes, mouth agape as he let small sounds out of his lips, your scent filling his nostrils and then, when he engulfed your boob into his mouth you were too surprised, so much so that you ended up putting him inside you entirely.

you moaned a bit louder than expected, the way his dick was stretching you up so good felt terribly good- what's the name of this? balls deep? yeah, he was pretty much deep inside you.

he bit your nipple quietly, gently, sucking on it so good you thought of your nipple as a candy for him to be so eager.

so hungry, and for you! god, he was perfect. the most perfect boy you fucked until now.

you didn't care about the sounds you were making, the music outside was too loud, the talks too, and your room is soundproof. fuck it. make it a gift to him.

you ride him graciously, like you were used to it- to his size. "fuck- i didn't thought you would be so big!" you said. ah, you knew just what to say to those boys. but to him? it was different. it was true, everything you told him while riding him was true.

he was the only one you allowed to fuck you rightfully, his hands on your waist, guiding your moves up and down, back and forth all while his teeth was nibbling on your nipples and your neck.

your moans became louder, you melted and mewled at every thrust he gave upwards you, his hands grabbing you so tightly, his fingers still buried on your meat, on your ass, manhandling you. you felt like going crazy.

"you're so tight- fuck, 'should've fucked you before." he moaned, trying his very best not to cum too quick. you could notice how he was controlong himself not to. he was a virgin, after all. until twenty minutes ago he haven't had his first kiss-

and then there was you. beautiful, experienced, perfect you. collecting boys as a way to cope with the boredom. and him, right under you, who was awkward enough to think you called him to talk with someone else in a empty room. truly, how cute.

with this thought in mind, he came. feeling humiliated, he hid his face in the curvature of your neck. "sorry." he said, and you smiled.

"it's fine, baby. just keep going. i'm sure you can do it." you said, and he nodded obediently, thrusting slowly into your core. sensitive, but eager. he kept going inside you even if you knew he was still trying ti hold back from cumming again.

you smiled at him, the view was just too lovely, closed shut eyes, your mouth opened up to let out a moan. there was something truly erotic in the way he kissed your shoulder, closing his eyes while thrusting inside you.

when you came, you felt like you were in heaven, your legs crossed on his waist, your nails scratching the back of his broad shoulders, your eyes closed shut- and him, throbbing inside you, his eyes couldn't seem to leave you, and he loved how you were tightening around him, so warm and gummy.

he took his dick out of you, watching how your cum and his leaked down your legs. it was the prettiest sight he have ever seen. "sorry- i shouldn't have cummed inside."

" don't worry. i liked it." you said, kissing his temple.

you watched as he closed his eyes. he adjusted his shirt and pants, helped you in doing so again.

then again, after all of this, every party, gala, whatever occasion you both would meet up he was there, measuring you, looking you up and down and minutes later he was learning a new thing with you. still, his favorites were always in his dreams, when you would do all the shameful things he was afraid to tell you.

like when you would slap him in his dreams and call him a slut. he would always wake up too embarassed to how hard his dick would be.

but that's for another time. right now, he was too occupied eating you out.

[ilguna]

Piano Sessions: "White Leather" by Wolf Alice + Finnick Odair x reader, their relationship had just started when Quarter Quell happened and both sent to arena, when the rebels pull victors out she gets left behind but her tracker was taken out and the gamemakers can't find her in arena. so everyone assumes she's dead but she escapes. while she's on the run she thinks about the life she wants with Finnick (maybe she sees the propo he does and he says something about her death). as "star squad" makes their way through the capitol they are reunited.

☼ white leather (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, reader has an injury.

wc; 5.7k

prompt; Piano Sessions: songfic, white leather by wolf alice. not noticable.

--

The seasons are changing, the warmth is fleeting, and the loneliness is burrowing in your heart. While you were being roasted alive a few weeks ago due to the unrelenting heat, mother nature has since decided to be kind rather than cruel. With summer ending, it allows her to relax, iron fist loosening.

It’s perfect timing, too.

If you had to endure it for any longer, you think you would’ve stopped traveling, ultimately setting you back. It was different when you were in the arena, because you weren’t actively moving for the entire day, just in increments. Out here you have no choice, especially if you want to make it back.

The Capitol can’t be that much further. After walking in the trees of Panem for hours at a time for weeks, it has got to be around here somewhere. You know for certain that you’re heading in the right direction because you stumbled into District Nine by accident. 

You didn’t even realize you had, even though you crossed through a fence to get inside. In your defense, there’s a lot of sectioned off areas inside of the wilderness, with no apparent reason why. What should’ve given you a clue was the burnt wheat field, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

In the distance, you could make out buildings, something that also wasn’t too unusual, considering that when the districts were formed after the Dark Days, a lot of structures were abandoned. You’ve been hopping between them, actually. It’s dangerous, they’re falling apart, and there’s critters absolutely everywhere, but you don’t have much of an option. 

You’ve tried sleeping under the stars, it’s not at all comfortable. You get increasingly paranoid as the hours drag on, afraid of the wild animals coming across you. You’d be able to defend yourself, with the knife that you have from the Quarter Quell arena. In the case of a pack, you’d be screwed.

They’d tear you apart, and then you’d have to add on their damage to injuries you already have. The last thing you need right now is another infected wound. The one on your forearm is bad enough. It’s your own fault, you dug out the tracker prematurely, assuming that you’d be rescued out of the arena, because that was the plan. 

When Katniss short circuited the dome using the lightning, she unintentionally messed up the plan, putting the rebels on a time crunch. They were able to get her, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena, you believe. Which left you, Johanna and Peeta behind. And Enobaria, but she doesn’t really count.

You ran across your allies, tried to tell them that if they didn’t want to fall into Capitol hands, then they had to escape that minute. Johanna, who usually trusts your judgement, was resistant to the idea of escaping the dome. She didn��t like the idea of having to survive outside of it, not knowing where to go. She wanted to play it safe, and if that meant enduring whatever the Capitol had in store, then that’s what had to be done. 

You would’ve argued with her, possibly even convinced her, if the hovercraft hadn’t appeared above the three of you. They knew exactly where they were because of the trackers they still had. With you being set on not being captured, you ran, leaving them behind, while you got out of the dome.

They should’ve caught you. It was an open field for at least a mile, they easily could’ve seen you, shot you and scooped you up. You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life. Johanna and Peeta must’ve put up a fight, if it took them that long to grab them out.

You didn’t hear news for a long time, not until that farmer caught up with you in that wheat field. She was out of breath, face a bright red from running for so long, sweat running down from her temples. You paused, watching in slight amusement as she tried to catch her breath, clearly wanting a conversation.

“You… what are you… doing out here?” She gasped, a hand on her chest. “If the Peacekeepers catch you…”

At the mention of Peacekeepers, you were no longer smiling. “Where am I?”

Her face twisted. “Well, District Nine, of course.”

The burnt field clicked then, and you turned to look at it with new eyes. It also explained why the fence you climbed over was harder than the last few. Which then got your mind working, wondering if you’d been in District Nine the week before, because it was heavily barbed.

“My name is (Y/n).” You said, head shaking. “I don’t live here, I’m a victor from District Four.”

She squinted at you, unbelieving. She eyed your body, the clothes you were wearing, which is nothing but an undershirt, a pair of shorts and water boots. Not the typical clothing for a farmer out in the fields, you guessed. You came to the right conclusion, because her mouth opened.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She told you. “How did you get out of the arena?”

“It fell apart. I simply climbed out.” 

She made a noise, as if the answer was too easy. “Where are you heading? District Four?”

“No, the Capitol. How far away am I?”

“Close, but you’re going in the wrong direction. You need to get to District Two, they cracked the Nut.” She pointed over your shoulder. “If you get to the rebel base, they’ll help you there.”

You nodded slowly. “They still have Peacekeepers here?”

“We’re too close, that’s why they haven’t retreated. They’ve up and abandoned the further districts. They wiped out District Twelve completely.”

You tilted your head. “Everyone’s dead?”

“They bombed it, seen it in the propos with Katniss Everdeen. Some of her people made it out, they’re in District Thirteen now. Not much left of ‘em.”

“Right.” You murmured. “Thank you for the help.”

“Wait, don’t you want me to look at that for you?” She motioned to where you’d cut out the tracker. “It looks nasty.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Well, good luck.” She said, “You better hurry and get out of here.”

“I will.”

She nodded, watching as you turned away, heading for District Two. From what you’ve gathered, you’re confident enough to say that the Quarter Quell arena was placed in the space between Districts Eight, Nine and Two. When you picture the map of Panem in your mind, it’s the area that makes the most sense.

A part of you wishes that you’d taken up her offer on cleaning out the cut. You have some herbal knowledge, which is what’s keeping it from killing you, but that has nothing on real medicine. This could’ve been healed days ago, and it likely wouldn’t have left a scar.

There’s also so many questions that come to mind since talking to her. Parts of the conversation that didn’t make sense to you. The biggest one being her telling you that you should be dead. Why? At the very least, the Capitol should know that you made it out alive. Especially if they did a sweep of the arena and didn’t come out with your body.

Unless they figured that you escaped and you’ve died out here somewhere, starving and alone. Which is the dumbest conclusion that they could possibly come to. With your track history, the bare minimum that you’ve lived off of your entire life, including your Games, they should know you’re a parasite that you can’t get rid of so easily.

If there’s one good thing that’s come out of fighting in the Hunger Games, it’s that you know how to survive. It would’ve been harder to do if you were rusty, but your time in the arena was a refresher, setting you up to live out here, which is not nearly as difficult. You don’t actively have other tributes hunting you down every waking second. 

If the Capitol really thinks that you’ve died, they have a surprise coming.

Your feet stutter a step when you realize what that means. It’s not just the Capitol, District Nine believes it too. There’s a good chance that they’re advertising it to the rest of the districts, then. You wouldn’t put it past them, they rub factors in your faces all the time, like District Thirteen. They led you to think that it’d been destroyed decades ago, when in reality, they came to an agreement that allowed Thirteen to slip out without the others noticing.

Oh, you hope that Finnick isn’t believing the same thing that girl did. You really hope that he wouldn’t take their word for it. But why wouldn’t he? District Thirteen didn’t have enough resources to rescue you all, and the Capitol was right there. Who’s to say that you didn’t die before they could get you out? Or that they didn’t kill you in captivity? Or that they’re secretly hiding you.

They could say anything they wanted about you, and he’d have no choice but to believe it because there’s no evidence proving otherwise.

You’ve been thinking about Finnick a lot lately out here while you walk, mostly your future. It was discussed briefly before the Quarter Quell, because the two of you had come to the agreement of volunteering for the Games. The conversation didn’t get very far after you started talking about the hypothetical rebellion if the arena did work out.

If you had it your way, you think you would’ve talked to him about what he wants to do after the rebellion, because you have so many ideas. Primarily, you’ll be able to travel, you won’t be held down by District Four. You and Finnick could spend months bouncing between districts, and come back home when you get tired of it.

For the first time in your lives, you’ll have freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want with little to no limit. There will be no more Hunger Games, no more months of preparation with teenagers that have no choice. There won’t be any interruptions, something that held the two of you back for so long.

And you’re not talking about the Games being a burden, you mean the relationship you’ve been denying. You and Finnick have had unavoidable chemistry for years, but between district life and the Capitol, there was no room to explore until recently. And even that seems to have been a mistake, something that should’ve waited.

Except, neither of you could suppress the urges any longer. You were already sharing longing looks and gentle touches, there was no point in withholding the pleasures when you were already dipping into it. That’s why you made it official in April, four months after the announcement, three months before the reaping. 

There had been countless nights where you stayed up, dreaming of the day where you’d be able to be yourselves. Where the stars would align perfectly to allow you to become more than just friends. When it finally happened, you almost didn’t believe the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth.

It’s been difficult to take it slow with him, because you feel like you’ve been dating him this entire time, under the table. You might not have been physical with him, but the emotional aspect was there. In your mind, he was already yours. And he admitted to you that he felt the same, that you belonged to him years ago.

You remember shivering when he told you that, because you had a feeling that it was true. These were words that you thought you’d have to wait to hear come out of his mouth. He was eager to tell you these truths, like a weight being lifted off of his chest. Like he’d been planning the exact moment they’d slip out of his lips in a whisper.

When this is over—when the rebellion is done—you want Finnick to yourself. It’s what you deserve at the very least, after all that you’ve been through. If it’s up to you, you’d want him to propose once Panem has begun to relax. You don’t want the teasing, or more years of build up. You just want to make him officially yours, forever.

Whatever comes after doesn’t matter. As long as you can say that he’s your husband, and you’ve agreed to love each other eternally. You’ll take what’s thrown your way with grace. You won’t ask for anything ever again. You’ll be especially good, if you could get what you wanted for once.

You step through the treeline into a meadow, letting you get a clear view of what’s ahead. You take a few steps before you come to a stop, staring at the colorful buildings in the distance. While you had tried your best to stay on track for District Two, you eventually came to the conclusion that you’d rather go to the Capitol, like you’d originally planned.

It’s not that far now. If you keep going, you think you’ll make it there sometime tomorrow.

—

Four hours. That’s all the time it took for you to realize that the situation has majorly changed here. The further you travel into the Capitol, the more it grows increasingly obvious. Especially if they’ve turned to violence to keep people out.

It’s a ghost town, which is not what you expected. The streets are usually crowded, with no space on the pastel sidewalk, crawling with people dressed in bright color. You were sure that you’d get spotted in the first minute of stepping foot into the city. It turns out that you had nothing to worry about.

Well, that’s not necessarily true. While you were temporarily relieved to find out that the outer half of the Capitol had been evacuated, you were put back on alert when you figured out why. There are traps placed on almost every street, with exponential damage to the buildings around.

You’ve yet to figure out if it’s the Capitol trying to defend themselves, or the rebels ensuring that if citizens return, they’ll be met with resistance. If you had to guess, you’re leaning more toward the Capitol. The way the traps are placed are methodological—it’s a pattern you’ve seen before. It reminds you a lot of the Gamemakers.

The traps are nearly perfectly hidden, the triggers in plain sight. You fell victim to the first few, but once you started to really notice where they were and what they’d contain, it was so much easier to avoid them. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself trapped, where you have no choice but to set them off. In those cases, you duck and cover, hoping for the best.

With the sun setting, you think it’s about time you call it a night. The last thing you’d want is to miss a sign and get yourself seriously injured. Everything is easier in the daylight. Besides, you covered a lot of ground today, more than you thought you would. 

You stop in front of a lime green apartment building with front doors that are made out of frosted glass. You grab the handle, pulling it open to slip inside. The lobby is cool, reflecting the temperature on the outside. It’s very carefully decorated here, with tall green plants in white pots and a small loveseat with a side table. On top of it is a magazine, with Katniss and Peeta on the front cover.

You wander forward, looking at the directory to find a paper taped to the front of it, the words successfully evacuated printed across the middle in bold writing. You lift it up to see beneath it, curious to how many floors there are. There’s five of them, you’ll probably stay on the third floor to keep from going too high.

As you start up the steps, you keep a sharp ear and eye out for noises or cameras that might capture your appearance. Just because this part of the Capitol has been evacuated, doesn’t mean that they’ve surrendered control entirely. For all you know, there’s Peacekeeper bases around here, ready for the signal to round a rebel up.

When you reach the third floor, you choose the unit that’s located next to the fire escape that you step out of. The door is locked, of course. You hold out your knife, staring down at it. It’s dulled considerably because you’ve been using it for everything while you’ve been traveling. This will be its last job.

You stuff the blade into the keyhole, wiggling it from side to side. For a second, nothing happens, and then there’s a click. You twist the knob, pushing in, opening the door to reveal the expensive living room. You pull the knife out but leave the door open as you inspect the apartment from top to bottom. When you’re convinced there’s no one, you pick up a dining room chair, going back to the front door. You shut it, lock it as best as you can, and then shove the chair as stiffly as you can beneath the knob.

The first thing you do is raid the bedroom, tearing it apart for clothes that you’ll be able to wear without looking ridiculous. Once you have an outfit that makes sense, you shower, watching as all the built-up dirt and dried blood mixes in the water, creating a grainy substance at the bottom of the white shower.

You feel so much better when you step out, drying yourself off. You change, letting the bathroom air out while you go through every cabinet you can, searching for the medical supplies. They’re hidden when you do find them, but they’re top-grade, the type of medicine that you’d send to tributes in the arena to get them healed within days.

You read over the ointment’s directions, and then you slather it over the open wound in your arm. Your teeth are grit hard enough that you think you’ll break them, toes curling at the pain it’s causing. It burns as it works its magic, you toss the tube on the counter, leaving to go back to the living room.

The sun has fully set now, there’s barely any light coming through the windows. Still, you shut the curtains, blocking out the rest of it. You head to the kitchen next, digging through the pantry to find countless cans and boxed goods. You pull out a few familiar soups because you’re starving. After you’ve finally located a spoon, you go to sit on the living room floor in the dark to eat.

You could heat it up, you’re sure that it’d be better that way, but you don’t want to risk more than you have to. You open the can, dipping your spoon inside, and raising the creamy substance to your lips. As expected, it’s not very good when it’s cold. Yet, it could be worse.

You manage to get down half the can before an alarm cuts through the stillness, making you jump in surprise. Your hand wraps around the knife before the television set lights up on its own, and you’re immediately greeted with the face of Beetee Latier.

“This is a repeated broadcast from District Thirteen, a reminder of the faces we’ve lost to get here.” He says. “We Remember, do you?”

It cuts to Haymitch Abernathy, sitting in a dark room, wearing a grey jumpsuit. The background is an empty area. To an extent, he looks better than the last time you saw him. 

A feminine voice speaks from off-camera. “What do you remember about Cashmere and Gloss Ritchson, the brother and sister duo from District One?”

“They were a bright pair of mentors, even when they were teenagers.” Haymitch says, staring at the camera. “There was nothing the two of them couldn’t do, and it showed time and time again when they performed miracles outside of the arena. Cashmere had an undeniable dedication that was admired by everyone, and Gloss was very hardworking to ensure his tributes got the best possible. It’s a great loss we’ve suffered losing them to the Quarter Quell.”

You squint, eyebrows twitching. Is this a memorial piece? If so, it’s a little funny for someone like Haymitch to speak about Cashmere and Gloss, considering that they were never invited into the alliance. Or thought about twice, beyond the idea of them possibly killing Katniss or Peeta.

The screen fades to black slowly, before Haymitch comes up again. “Brutus, he won a couple years after I did. He was friendly to me after my Games, and had briefly tried to help me after the tragic loss of my family.” He pauses to sigh. “Even though we could never see eye to eye, that did not keep him from drinking with me on occasion.”

Beetee shows up in the next clip, in the same spot that Haymitch was on a stool, only he’s in a wheelchair. Something must’ve happened between the arena and now. You wonder if it has anything to do with the lightning tree.

“Wiress was very intuitive, incredibly intelligent.” He adjusts his glasses, shaking his head. “It may appear that we have lost no one at all, but with her absence, Panem will not function the same. She worked alongside me to create some of the more important Capitol devices, a factor they neglected to think about. We will miss her dearly.”

You finish the can of soup, and you’re pulling on the tab to open the next when his face shows up on screen. Finnick sits on the stool, eyes puffy and a little bloodshot, bags underneath from the lack of sleep. There’s a slouch in his posture, a small length of rope in his fingers that he fiddles with.

“Tell us about (Y/n) (L/n).” The female voice says.

Finnick swallows, voice quiet. “What isn’t there to say?” He asks, looking into the camera. “She was my best friend, and more than that, my girlfriend. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known, always so considerate and patient with everyone around her. How President Snow can take such a gentle life and then brag about it is a mystery.”

Your blood runs cold, suspicions confirmed. So, they have been broadcasting you as dead. They saw an opportunity and took it, wanting to make themselves look more ruthless. When in reality, they haven’t so much as touched you since you escaped.

“I love her and I miss her.” He says, tired eyes filling with tears. An overwhelming urge to reach through the screen to hold him seizes you. “If I had known my time with her would be cut short, I would’ve done everything to protect her.” He breathes shakily. “This is why we must stop the Hunger Games. For loved ones like (Y/n).”

Finnick is gone, once again replaced by Haymitch, who begins to speak about Mags, your mentor. For the first few seconds you stare at the screen, face slowly twisting before it hits you.

Mags is dead.

“What?” You murmur, sitting up.

“Mags was the first mentor to approach me after I won my Games.” Haymitch says. “She was a sweet woman that could see the pain and understood what I was going through. I was the first victor of District Twelve, she was the first face of the Hunger Games. And for as long as I let her, she helped me mentor.”

Of course she did. That’s who Mags is—was. If she saw someone that needed help, she was there. She even approached Johanna after her Games to give her some tips because Johanna was slowly sinking. 

“Mags did not deserve to die the way she did.” Haymitch says.

It moves on to the next victor, the woman from Five who was killed in the arena. You try to listen, but it’s difficult. You can feel yourself slowly getting sucked out of your body and into the open air. You’re here, but are you really?

The entirety of Panem thinks you’re dead, and as serious as the situation is—it’s a little funny. If this is the rerun, that means that they’ve been Finnick speak on your death dozens of times. There is not one person left in this country that believes otherwise.

But you’re not dead. You’re here, in one of the many luxurious Capitol apartments, eating someone else’s vegetable soup that they’ve saved. If you had gone to District Two like the girl from Nine told you to, this wouldn’t be the rumor.

For the remaining eight districts, the statements are brought from the victors that now reside in District Thirteen or some faces of previous Capitol citizens. Which you can tell by the way their skin is tinted or the tattoos that line their bodies. There’s even a part where a former Avox sits on the stool, signing while his brother translates.

It wraps up with Finnick talking about Rue and the future that was stolen from her. She was just an innocent child, and the Capitol thought it was right to force her to fight for her life with other older kids, who were much bigger and more skilled. When she should’ve been at home, with her family.

Beetee shows up at the end, hands in his lap. “We Remember.” 

The screen dies, but not completely. It glows faintly, illuminating the small area that you’re sitting in. You need to get out of here—out of the Capitol, at least. You should be with Finnick. He needs to know that you’re alive, because the idea of you being dead is killing him. After the two of you fought to be together, you’ve been ripped from his fingertips.

You don’t sleep tonight. 

You want to, with the couch being the comfiest thing you’ve laid down on in months. You know that the apartment is secured, you triple-checked everything. No one is coming to get you. This isn’t what keeps you up.

So, you relax in front of the television in the living room, eyelids feeling heavy the moment your head touches the pillow. When they shut, that’s when the problem rises. You’re not tired anymore, even after counting sheep for what feels like hours, your mind is still running.

By the time the sun is peeking through the curtains, you’re ready to leave the apartment with a packed bag. It has the essentials inside like food and water, and the ointment you’ll be using to heal your arm. You’ve grown too attached to the knife you had in the arena, so you find a way to sharpen it, giving you a reason to keep it.

The streets look the same way as they did yesterday, nothing has magically shifted. You head for the train tracks that’ll bring you to a tunnel that runs to District Two. It’s what the girl in Nine called the Nut. It serves several purposes, including training the new Peacekeepers underground, but it’s also the easiest path to get in and out of the Capitol.

While you should’ve gone to District Two straight away, you’re glad you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have known the whole story. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it could’ve been if you came across the rebels and they bombarded you about how you’re alive. 

You travel blindly through the streets, dodging and setting off traps, watching the chaos that follows. A few of them are made up of weapons that shoot out once triggered. You manage to react quickly most of the time, but you still come out with a few nicks from blades that are impossibly sharp.

Other traps are made up of insects that are abnormally colored and move in ways that they shouldn’t be capable of. When you see this, you decide that you’re right to say that they’re designed by the Capitol’s Gamemakers, because it makes no logical sense the other way around.

When it appears to be around lunch, you stop to eat in a shop with broken windows, stomach growling. There’s a nice aqua blue couch a few feet away from the door, void of the glass shards that litter the tile floor. You open a can of soup, and dig out a small pack of crackers to have with it. 

It’s still disgustingly cold, and yet it could be worse. After what you ate in the woods these last few weeks, anything is a good meal compared to that. Even the crackers seem like a treat.

You set the empty can on the floor when you finish, sitting back against the cushions, staring through the open window. A pair of black birds circle over a nearby alley for a minute. They’re the first sign of life that you’ve seen in this city since you got here, besides the mutts that come out of the traps.

They settle on the roof of a building, side by side, much like the birds at home when they land on power lines. You’re about to look away, when you watch as they both simultaneously tilt their heads, attention set on whatever is in the alley. Your face twists, confused.

As soon as they open their beaks, beginning to screech, you realize that they’re not birds, either. They look to be like jabberjays—a Capitol weapon. You get to your feet, swinging the bag strap over your shoulder. You don’t know how they can see you, because they are definitely not facing your direction. You shouldn’t be in their view.

You take a single step, before you freeze where you are, watching as a group of people dart out from the alleyway. They’re dressed in black, wearing combat gear and carrying weapons. You’re terrified, wondering how the Peacekeepers have found you, until you realize that they are not Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers wear white.

There’s almost a dozen of them, and their leader is pointing his finger down the street to your right, an area you haven’t explored yet. He barks out an order, one of the girls in the middle turns with a gun, shooting at the jabberjay. They flap their wings, rising from where they’re perched, flying around.

Rebels.

Your lips part, wanting to speak, but the words die in your throat. You’re not dressed like they are, you look like you belong in the Capitol because of the clothes you’re wearing. You’re even sitting in an abandoned boutique as if you’re not completely surrounded by danger.

It doesn’t matter, they’re gone before you can work up the courage to speak. You watch as one of the boys toward the end grabs another boy with blonde hair, pulling him along. Neither of them stick out in your mind, and then the first boy turns, looking over his shoulder, right at you.

It’s Finnick. It’s Finnick, and he’s pulling along Peeta. 

You move now, trying to follow him. You’re sure he’s seen you, but as you step out of the shop and in front of it, looking at where you’d been standing, you see that it’s too dark to make out much of anything. The awning above the street blocks any sunlight that might be able to get inside.

“Hey,” You call, walking after them. They’re moving too fast, trying to escape the birds, running around the corner. You begin to jog, not wanting to lose them in the maze of Capitol streets. 

Even as a team, they move remarkably fast. You’re barely catching Finnick’s bronze hair in glimpses each time they take a turn. They’re losing the birds, though. And even worse, you.

“Hey!” You shout, sprinting down the street. “Wait!”

It grows more narrow, crowded with decorations that citizens couldn’t pull inside before leaving. There’s many places to hide, too many buildings to duck into. You can’t see Finnick anymore, much less hear the stomping of their boots against the asphalt. 

When you’re breathing so hard that you’re sure you’re going to throw up your lunch, you slow down, coming to a stop in the middle of the walkway. Your face contorts, hands on your hand.

“Fuck.” You breathe, walking at a slow pace. “Finnick!”

You peer into the local stores, checking behind every bush. You know that eight people would never be able to hide around this area without splitting up. They could’ve gone anywhere.

“Finnick, please!” You stop in the middle of a crossroads, taking your time to look down what each road offers. “It’s me, it’s (Y/n)! I’m alive!” You struggle to breathe normally, whispering, “Please, I’m alive.”

When there’s no appearance, you sigh. The one chance you had, and now he’s gone.

“(Y/n)?” A faraway voice asks.

You turn instantly to face the person, finding Finnick standing at the end of a walkway. He’s not alone. In fact, he’s with the leader of the group, who’s clutching a large gun in his hands, wary. This doesn’t bother you.

“Finnick.” You say, starting toward him. “Oh my god.”

There’s a deep crease between his eyebrows, watching you come closer. “You’re—how are you here?”

You walk straight into his arms, letting him crush you against his body. You grip on tightly to his shoulder, face pressed into the space above the vest. He presses a kiss into your hair once, then twice, and again and again. When he’s had enough, he pulls away, grabbing your face to kiss your lips.

It’s gentle, loving, but quickly turns greedy as he refuses to let you go. And when he does, it’s not because he needs to breathe, it’s because his shoulders are shaking. His face is wet, eyes filled with tears. You bring his forehead to yours, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“It’s okay, Finnick.” You murmur.

“The Capitol said you were dead. They showed your body. How are you—?”

“I escaped out of the arena.” You tell him, stroking his hair. “I’ve been in the trees between the districts the whole time. I got here yesterday.”

He backs away, lips pressed together, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Of course you did.

You pout, shaking your head. “I cut the tracker out.” You show him your arm, which is looking better this afternoon, but still far from healed. “I’m not sure who’s body you saw, but it wasn’t mine.” You reach for his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

He pulls you back into his body, hugging you. “You’re alive, (Y/n). That’s all that matters to me.” He frowns. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

-

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[lycheeloving]

I'm not a songfic person at all, but Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo is so Bruce Wayne coded... not everything fits ofc, but listening to it always makes me think of a lil scenario. i don't know how much it actually has to do with the song tbh

I imagine you're a meta, have some kind of power that Batman just can't figure out, but he needs to know exactly how your powers work and what your weaknesses are! To make a contingency plan for you, in case you turn evil at some point!

So he tries everything, sneakily taking your blood (either you don't let him get close enough or he can't pierce your skin due to your powers), watching you closely during missions, even subtly asking you about it, but nothing works, you don't let him know anything, he can't figure you out.

So he only has one option left. Getting closer to you, making you trust him. You're already suspicious of Batman, so he gets closer to you in his civilian identity, Bruce Wayne. He fabricates "random" (meticulously planned) encounters between you both for months, where he slowly endears himself to you, until you agree to date him. Then he knows exactly what to say to get you to care about him, to trust him.

Over the course of many months you get really close to him, come to love him. You reveal your identity to him (that he already knew, but he acts surprised), open up about your powers after he gently asks you to explain more to him, since he's "so confused, and didn't expect any of this, please help him understand?". You even mention one of your weaknesses to him, hoping that will make him less scared of you. He calms down after that, and you think your relationship is now stronger than ever.

Unbeknownst to you, after you fall asleep in his bed that night, he takes your blood and scans you in a way he's figured out won't wake you up. He has all the information he needs now.

You destroy a lot of his stuff in anger before calming down enough to see past your anger and leave, intending to never come back. You stop working with Batman, maybe even with the entire Justice League, unable to trust him and anyone that works with him.

After that, he ever so slowly starts distancing himself from you, intending to get you to stop caring about him as much, to break up with him. However, before that happens, you're able to connect the dots and figure out he's Batman. Either he says something as Batman that only Bruce should know or you stumble upon the batcave. Why didn't he reveal this to you when you told him about your powers? Didn't he trust you? ...Maybe he just wasn't ready yet? But why did he act so confused, Batman wouldn't be confused!

You then decide to look through his things, hoping not to find a file on you, hoping he truly cared about you and didn't just get close to you for more information, but you find a list of your weaknesses, and plans detailing how to take you down, if he ever has to. You also find the plans he had for this whole thing. Getting close to you and then just leaving you, as if whatever was between you never meant anything.

Did he ever really care about you? He might have started out not caring, but did he never start liking you at all?

And did breaking your heart create the monster he feared you could become? Or did he just make it so you'll never trust anyone again? Only time will tell...

[woneuntonzz]

for the first time ˎˊ˗

📞 ; “It's not the piano we share the love for. It's the music, isn't it?”

𖹭 : childhood lover!anton x afab!reader

💭 It's just like seeing her for the first time again...

⤷ contains: fluff, pining, childhood lovers trope 🙈, humor (if

you squint ig??)

⤷ wc: 8k :3 (not proofread :0)

⤷ a songfic, inspired by:

-ˋˏ under the cut .ᐟ ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Not many wonder about what the world was like when the sky’s silent and pure black. It’s all at the top of our heads —the world’s asleep, at least, the part that’s bathing in darkness and the moonlight. But Anton wondered, he wondered what kind of dreams people slept with, what his tired uncle snores about at night. 

He remembered being sat on the garage floor with his uncle who wore wounds and dark purple bruises all over his arms. A mechanic at work, and a magician at home. Anton was fascinated with how he could fix everything, everything but his aching heart. 

Anton saw the way his uncle looked at the woman that lived across from their house. His uncle became a frequent visitor when their family moved to that neighborhood, and he thought it was because his uncle was just so fond of him. And while that’s a definite truth, he figured it must be because of that woman. 

“Do you have a crush on her?” the innocent question fell off of Anton’s lips as he watched his uncle rummage through a box of equipment to give his dad’s car a fix. 

“No.” his uncle laughed, and the poor boy wouldn’t be able to sense the hints of frailty in his tone. “How about you? I see you. You’re all eyes for their youngest.”

The youngest child of the family that lived across. Anton had always wanted to approach, but he would get startled the moment that pair of glittery eyes got to him. It made him quake in his heart, and every passing second he’d be feeling for his hair, to feel if it had jumped around making him look so foolish —no, not in front of you.

“She’s really pretty.” uttered through a grin, he starts fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I bet she’s really nice too, like you. You should ask her to be your friend.” his uncle would keep his head under the hood of the car, still meddling with its insides. “Her mom is nice.”

Anton raised his brows as curiosity washed his face. “Is the woman her mom?” and to that his uncle could only nod, and along with his ashed face and wounds and dark purple bruises he wore a bittersweet smile. Anton had seen that smile so often that he thought it was just how he is. 

It was at your eighth birthday party when Anton noticed how different his uncle smiled around your mother. And Anton would smile the same way when he would so shyly blurt out, “Happy birthday Y/n.” he felt his heart taking leaps that there were no stops in between his words, just flat but still all over the place. You served him a slice of your coral pink cake. But he could already taste the sugar from your smile alone. 

He was forced in there. He would say forced because he had hinted frustration with the way he had dropped his back against the chair at dinner, but truly he was only anxious of meeting you, greeting you, seeing the silk ropes of your hair catching the harsh rays of the sun up close rather than from the window of his living room. He’d tell his uncle, but he was assured that it would all be fine, even if he himself was anxious to be accompanying his nephew to the birthday party being hosted by his greatest love. 

Anton watched the adults from a distance, overlooking the inkling pining from his uncle’s actions. His uncle who had refused to see women because of work, not caring if people suspected him of not being into women at all. He valued his heart, yet had never taken care of it. It was not clear to Anton the words said that had left his uncle to lose the whim in him that night. Though, he was sure of one thing. He had got himself a friend. 

He found out his friend played the piano, that’s why she had such pretty hands, and had as much passion as he did. He played the piano too. After he arrived from school in the afternoon, he got himself in more comfortable clothes, then he’d be shoving chicken, rice and some seasoned veggies in his mouth. He considered himself careful for not being scolded despite being in a rush. After that he started to walk to the door. It would take him twenty-seven steps. One. To open his door the same time you would. Two. He started to think about what to say. Six. And what not to say. Fourteen. He felt like his pulse was at the same rhythm as his steps. Twenty-seven. He finally opens the door. 

He must’ve had godly intuition, or maybe it was fate doing its work. You both surprised each other, doors swiping open being met with the distant sight of each other. The distance was vast, but he could see such amazing and beautiful pictures in your eyes. Now he was about to take fifteen steps to you. He took notice of the way your hair waved back even if it wasn’t a windy day. And it was because you ran to him, your avidness showing through the grin you carried to him. 

“Hi Anton!” he had never heard a voice so lively. Somehow it made him feel like he could do anything at that moment, free. 

“Hello, Y/n.” his lips were pressed together as his voice started to falter. 

He wanted to beat himself up for sounding so enfeebled and it was so not cool. But you giggled at his dainty utterance, and it was like having another slice of that coral pink cake, so sweet.

“How was school?” you had just gone from school too. You were attending a different school, but yours and his still held the same schedule it seems. 

“It was okay.” he couldn’t admit that he felt like crying when he was taunted for being too quiet. 

“Are you sure?” you followed the steps of your mother, to ask if they were sure if you weren’t so sure yourself. 

He shrugs, and you could hear the bottom of his shoes grinding against the stray leaves on the ground from the old oak tree by your house. “I think the kids at school don’t like me.” for a second he thought he had said something wrong with the way your brows knitted from what he said, and so he’d speak again, “But maybe it’s just me. They were joking I think.”

“Well it’s a ridiculous joke. You’re literally so nice. You’re the nicest boy I know.” it was the facts speaking, considering every other boy in your life seemed to fall dumb with throwing balls around and sipping unpalatable liquid while watching other people throwing balls around. 

Being the nicest boy in your life would be the bourne of Anton’s living moments for as long as he could remember. He owes you for all the times you’ve given him a smile as bright as day, and when you’d let him run his fingers through the silk of your hair, and when you’d talk to him about whatever came to mind, no matter how arbitrary or unusual. He felt like he was in debt because of how much he’s heard your dear voice. And how he missed it when dusk caught up to your ventures. He wanted to give you the world just for existing. 

What do you want to be when you grow up?

You laughed when you heard Anton huff about how typical this essay topic was. You were now thirteen. Also in the same middle school. You stuck by each other like an ant with a pint of sugar. It’s been five years, and he was still the nicest boy you know. You two were the best of friends. Inseparable most times. People believed it would be impossible to keep the two of you out of each other’s wonders and giggles. Every means of socializing would be your world colliding with his. There was no other pair of eyes, or lips, or an angelic voice he looked for within the trifling crowds of students in your class or anywhere else. In his world there was only yours. 

“I’ve heard this question so many times. Now I’m not even sure what to answer.” his hands rested on the paper he had laid out, but his eyes were attached to your eyes like he was looking for something in them —which if he were, he would’ve been looking all day.

“How about a swimmer? don’t you want to be that? or a pianist?” his eyes followed the movements of your eyelids that opened a bit more for his reply.

“Well, I guess I could get an athletic scholarship.” the truth was he was too caught up with how comfortably your eyes kept a lock on his. He wasn’t able to actually ponder what he truly wanted. “You?”

He was eager to hear from you. He knew in that beautiful soul of yours you bear such amazing dreams. “Maybe a musician. I love music.”

“I do too.” it was a spur of the moment thing —he mulled his lips, his eyes fluttering down to your coral pink lips. He thought it must be as sweet as that coral pink icing. “I love you too.”

Your eyes would be as wide as the gap that separated the two of you, not exactly broad, but not close enough. “Oh, then, I love you too, Ton.” you had made it out to be as him declaring how much he appreciates you for being his best friend. Because what else could it be?

You’d find out soon enough, you were already fifteen. Fifteen and still oblivious of each other’s affection. Your friends could tell with just a single glance. Even when silence was overbearing, the two of you would dwell deep in each other’s eyes. Now that you’re older —and a lot closer— he’s been a lot more expressive. And you were too, however it would only be for him. His arms were always around you. Wrapped around your shoulders, and if lost in the moment, around your waist. He thought you never noticed how careful and gentle his touch was. You did, all of it. It would kind of sting too. He’d leave an imprint of his zeal on your skin, even if sometimes not bear, it would burn, but in a good way. It would sting the moment it’s taken away from you. The longing, it was something you weren’t so sure how you’d act on. 

At sixteen, he was fully focused on his cello. He had given up the piano for it. You supported him throughout everything, but his dubiety would not allow for him to get a good night’s sleep. He thought of what you could’ve felt when he said he wanted to play the cello and not the piano. It was because the piano was something you both loved but you’d affirm to him, “It’s not the piano we share the love for. It’s the music, isn’t it?” he felt foolish about the whole ordeal. Still, you thought it was sweet of him for being so broody. 

He took a lot of classes for the cello while you were out practicing for your solos. And soon he’d be practicing for recitals too. It kept you apart, but you knew you’d both be doing something you love. A breath of fresh air if you will. That air would become too hard to inhale eventually. You waited for Anton, just right outside where he and his band practiced. There was a small crack where you could see that he had made a new friend. You knew that friend, she was popular amongst boys. Though, you heard that she was not in for fooling around, it wouldn’t stop you from driving your sanity close to the fear of losing Anton. She’s a dream. Anton loved to talk about dreams, dreams for the future, dreams when you're asleep, even ones when you’re awake. You wondered, was his dream now standing in front of you carrying such luscious locks and sanguine eyes with the stature of a runway model? she held a bow too, which could only mean one thing. She too played the cello. Anton talked about how she taught him this and that, probably about playing the cello in more efficient ways. Either way, you couldn’t remember. Your mind trailed off to the thought that he might start to enjoy practice more than spending time with you. 

Your thoughts had led you back to the music room, angry notes flying off the piano as you let your heart lead your fingers. You meant to play a little softer, as to not draw anyone into the room. You failed in doing so. The piano’s song echoed throughout the room, but you had no time to care if it was going through the walls. Lost in song, you weren’t able to catch the sound of the door’s hinges moving along at the pace of your head that tilted with the rhythm of which you played. After laying out the last note, another would follow, and it sounds, “Are you okay, sweet?” 

Anton heard the aggressive play even being fifteen steps away from the music room. After those fifteen steps, there you were, sitting on the bench as your fingers worked the music. He had to pinch himself to assure he wasn’t dreaming. You looked like you had just gone down from the heavens. But he saw your nerves seemingly wanting to pop out and the way your brows were knitted too. Before he approached, he was already thinking of reasons. It could’ve been your music teacher putting you through rough practice. Or maybe it was him. He was thinking of everything he had said and done for the past week, the past month even. Then he decides he’d walk up to you towards the end of the song you played. 

“I’m fine.” but you ended up closing the piano a little too hard, causing the keys to play by themselves from under. You immediately looked up at Anton, and like what you’d expect, his face reflected his doubt. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot in my mind.”

Your body almost fell limp when you felt the warmth you’ve been longing for the three painfully slow days of continuous practice without seeing him. His arms snaked around you, just above your chest. He rests his chin on your head. “What is it, sweet? Tell me.” 

He felt your head move as you sighed. His body responded by getting himself seated next to you, keeping one arm around you. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You eyed his gentle hand on you and kept it there when you uttered, “Do you think those kids back in your elementary school still don't like you?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, really.” your question was too random, but he’d let his hand slowly fall on your elbow, and the sensation clouded your mind. 

“Anton, I wish I could’ve just told you then.” you felt his grasp grow tighter. He pulled himself closer to you. His breath staggered seeing the thin layer of sea on your eyes. 

“Told me what?” he could almost feel your exhaustion, even if your hands were cold when he held them. 

You chuckled, but it was so broken that it would only lead to his grasp closing even more. “So what if they didn’t like you? screw those kids. I like you. I have for the longest time, Anton.” you sniffled to fight the waters. “And not as a friend, but more.”

The warmth he had given you all those times you’d feel him were all coming back to him. It was so great. The feeling wasn’t overwhelming. It was utter relief. But it told him two things. One, you’ve both been in love ever since his family moved into that neighborhood. And two, you were both oblivious of your flourishing love. He had thought of the second, that time he told you he loves you —seemingly out of nowhere. Once realizing what he had just said, he thought he had dug his own grave, but you would innocently tell him you loved him too. That moment was a slap to his face. He thought all he’ll ever be to you is a best friend. 

The winds of change blew stronger in that room. “Y/n, when I said I love you, I meant it. Then, I was only hoping you saw me the same way.” his fingers drew circles on your skin. You were both red and hot by then, still he was able to take jest of the situation. “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

You laughed, pushing yourself into his neck. It was the heat of your air that had pushed him to hold your chin up, and for the first time your lips would meet. It lasted for three seconds —not that you could count— and he’d hover over your lips for a while. And he’d smile, pressing his forehead against yours. He had to swiftly lick on his lips to confirm a theory. He was stunned to taste your strawberry chapstick. Sweet, you truly were.

“Anton?” only he could hear it with how miniscule your voice was, and it was just right for he was yet to move from where he halted. He chuckles. You laughed. Soon you had your face buried within the crook of his neck. 

You two left the music room as you would when you’re together. Significantly close in distance. The only difference would be your entwined hands. You both walked past your friends’ coos in the hallway wearing sheepish grins. It felt as if you were both children again, running towards the exit whilst you held onto each other tightly —just to be sure the other won’t get lost as you sped out into the outside world. Your conjoined ecstasy was heard by the array of students that passed by. If laughter was medicine, you’d both be dead from overdosing. He was careful to lead you out of the public space. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pants since it was practice afternoon for his swimming team. You were aware of their schedule, but he’d keep your mind off of it, ultimately lulling you with a kiss. 

It had only taken a giggle for you to be laying on the grass of your backyard. The constellations drew the love emanating from your huddled bodies. He traced it with his eyes. When he looked down, he was tracing your features like he did with the stars. Even with the bed of stars in the sky, and the moon, you still held a shine brighter than all of them combined. He gazed on the bead of light on the tip of your nose. And then everywhere else it scattered. With his eyes he followed the outline of your lips, and the curve of your chin. Then he needed to feel. His palm, soft and gentle, would find its rest on your cheek. You’ve been watching his eyes with your own the whole time, watching for where they trailed. 

“Wouldn’t you be in trouble for skipping training?” your voice was mellow. It was the softest and prettiest melody he’s ever heard. His fingers glide down from your cheek to your jaw. 

“I don’t think I want to be a swimmer.” he says, caressing your skin whilst he roams your visage with his eyes once more.

“Then what do you want to be, Ton?” his other hand went on top of your head. He moves the stray strands, being delicate with your kind locks. 

“I want to be with you.” the tone is low, a lot deeper than when you were thirteen. Baritone and painstaking. Yet it was pure velvet in your ears. 

You tittered at his reply. It was a means of covering your flushed face. You moved a little closer and nuzzled your face against his clothed chest. “I do too.” you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt. He heard it, and he grew nervous from you feeling the pounding in his chest because of the proximity. “Seriously now, what do you dream of for the future?” you moved from his chest to look up at him. 

“I was being serious.” he propped his head up as he chuckled. Now he hovered slightly above you, elbow resting near the side of your head. He inhales the September breeze as he takes in all of you. “Though I am considering just being a musician. I might have an opportunity in line to be able to do that. To make music.”

You lie with lax on the grass bedding. You noticed that only one side of his face was shone on by twilight. You might have been staring for too long, because then he’d let his lips fall on your forehead, and then down to your lips. Your eyes glittered with the reflection of the stars in them. But he figured, it might be just the image they held. There was no need for stars, or moons, or the sun for you to light up his world. Later that night, his uncle had to come in and retrieve him. His uncle with wounds and dark purple bruises, all of which were now faded. Change had played after your birthday party. Even if it didn’t seem like it, the change was all for the better —even for Anton’s uncle. That night after your birthday party, he admits to his feelings. And your mom granted him closure. It was better than nothing anyways. 

The night Anton was fetched from the backyard of your home —the same place where you held your eighth birthday— his uncle finally told him the tragic tale of his greatest love. Once upon a time, his uncle and your mother were like you and him, but sadly fate had worked against them. He had gone away for work. The distance, the time, overwhelmed their love. It plummets quickly after a long time of losing contact. Then your mother had you. Anton’s uncle would assure him that there was beauty in it all, and it was you. It was insinuated that both you and Anton were brought down to earth from the heavens to be with each other. Still, fear proved to be man’s greatest enemy. 

With only a very few inches left to seventeen, he took strides. It was hard to keep up even with your hands enclosed with his. You took steps that were just right. But right beside you was him leaping forward to the inevitable. He had you in his arms when he contemplated. It was nothing to contemplate about, he had to tell you. But he feared that his farewell would be the last. What if history repeats itself? what if he leaves today and tomorrow you would no longer love him? he was already grieving over what he could only foresee in his nightmares. Even if his body was as warm as spring, he was cold. You could feel it. 

“What’s wrong Ton?” he felt guilt dawning down on him for causing that much worry to you. 

“I just have a lot in my mind.” like deja vu, he’d jump slightly from where he sat. He came back to that day in the music room. You played valse sentimentale, he remembered being so lovestruck with how perfect you played, even after finding out it was of great emotion from your fear of losing him. He couldn’t even remember that girl’s name. “I’m moving back to Korea.”

“You passed the audition?” you were genuinely happy for him. But then again, you had expected it. You never doubted his abilities. He is still his harshest critic. “That’s great! you’d have a chance at making music, like you always dreamed of.”

But at night when he dreamed, he saw paradise. He saw you. He had brought those dreams under the light of day. He thought about it whilst he meddled with his cello. He thought about it while he studied. He had even smiled so foolishly in the shower imagining it occurring in real life. That dream he had was under the moonlight. Maybe it was because of that night in your backyard, but in his dream you weren’t on grass. You were at some place small. It wasn’t exactly cramped per say, but it wasn’t of great space either. It was nothing important at first. He was more focused with the light that bounced off the skin on your face. When he dreamed of it again, it fed his fears. You were all tears in this dream. He wondered if he was seeing the future. There were no words spoken. It made it hard for him to decipher what that dream meant. It kept him awake for more hours than he should've. He could only hope it wasn’t a foreshadowing of a fallout. 

At the departure area of the airport is where you held him with all the vigor you had left in you. You were both seventeen already. Now he was to be flown to his dreams, though it would not be the dreams he had of you. The tears had already been drained from both of you days prior, now he could only savor the remainder of his thirty-minute wait with you. 

“Take care, Ton.” you utter against his temple so softly as your fingers brushed his hair. “I know they’ll take good care of you there too.”

“I wish I could be with you.” he had his eyes closed, head lying on your shoulder. He had his whole weight on you, but it was very much the opposite of a heavy burden. “You could take care of me better than anyone.”

You lightly pushed his shoulder that hung in the open whilst giggling. And he smiled against the scent of your cologne. The smell was sweet. It could’ve been because he was so convinced sweet is just what you are. But even so, he drowned in it. The thirty minutes was up, and he was headed for the sky. With exchanged I love yous and a lengthy farewell, he was off. He was in no mood for the plane movies. He had the memories he’s made with you that he kept on rewind in his head as he flew. He had dozed off, soon he was dreaming again. He woke up from it. He saw you in a dress, like the one you liked to wear when you were kids. Blue with the bows. Missing you was dreadful, but maybe, just maybe, landing would be a little nicer. Then it would be a little easier for his longing to subside. 

He was training all over again. It was none like swimming, but there were even more restrictions. Have a consistent diet. Never miss practice. Monthly evaluations are held every month’s end, and do not miss it. No sneaking out, and most importantly, no dating. But there was no rule stating he couldn’t miss you, there was no rule that stated he should break up with you. All he had to do was bear a secret. It was easier said than done, but he made it work. He had too. Only seeing and hearing you through his screen was incomparable to having you in real life. If he had a superpower, it would be being able to teleport. He wanted to so badly when he had called you as you studied for your midterms. You listened to his tales of training, how his fellow trainees were and all. You were being so good to him, he just wanted to have his arms around you again. To console you from the thousand words you read through while still having ears open for him. You were now eighteen. It’s been a year. Growing tired of this setting was not inside both of you. You would both treat it like the new normal now, but it was anything to keep your boat stable. 

“I miss you so much. I want to go home. But they say I can’t. Not yet.” he hugged himself like how he saw you with yourself. You had your own arms around your body, trying to make it up as his. But it wasn’t the same. Painful is all it was, but he was there right in front of you. Not quite for being on the screen of your laptop, but he was there. 

“I miss you too.” was all you could say. You hoped he could sense your yearning through what he could see from his own screen. 

It’s his smile that told you he yearns for you just as much, if not more. “I’ll visit you as soon as I can.” he wanted to see your face taking in the light of your surroundings again. He wanted to feel your gentle skin and your silk hair again. Its ghost lingered on his fingers that held onto his sides. “I love you, sweet.”

“I love you too, Ton.” you wondered if he could see it. Your eyes brimmed with water, but you were yet to let it fall. And you wouldn’t be able to when his smile grew wider. Your lips curved, an imitation of his. 

You were off to college when he told you he was up for debut. Not exactly where his dreams lie, but it was the closest he could get. An idol. He fits the job well you thought. You knew people would love him, though not as much as you did. You’d be his number one fan, always. It was when you had fixed your dorm room when he called you, gushing about the guys he was going to debut with, all while he tried to scan around where you were. It’s where he could’ve been too. Now it’s quite an impossibility. 

“I bet you’re even more handsome than all six of them combined.” you furrowed your brows in jest, determined to have him keep him show you his underlying confidence. 

“You’re reaching.” you’d both laugh as his obviously quoted response. “But thank you. You must be telling the truth. You always stare at me.”

You guffawed even if he was stating facts. “Yeah, but you must’ve known by then that I was only imitating you. You’ve had your eyes on me, since like, what? since we were children right?” 

He hummed an approval to your question. Art imitates life. You were the most beautiful painting, the only worthwhile movie, and the most pleasant song. You were all of those that depicted the love he had for life. His own and yours. “You’re so beautiful and sweet. I want to see you so bad.”

You’ve always wondered why he called you sweet, my sweet, he’d often say referring to you, or to call for you. But his words and the way his eyes worked around you, the way the ends of his lips rose for you, it was telling. It told you everything there is to know. You thought maybe it was his influence that had driven you to study psychology. He also couldn’t believe what he was hearing when you told him about your major. It was again, something he wasn’t able to foresee before. If him being an idol seemed like a stretch, you studying psychology would’ve been a reckless swing that went thirty miles off your expectations. You thought psychology was intriguing. Though you really didn’t need the books to understand Anton, you wanted to study the nature of man. Would it be possible that there’s anyone in this world as precious as he could be?

Other than that, you wanted to understand dreams. Dreams vary for everyone, and there are dreams people share, dreams that carry definitions that are listed in websites and reiterated in YouTube videos or in mini series of shorter videos on TikTok. You wanted to have a deeper understanding of how it worked. Where sometimes it’s sheer symbolism, and other times it’s a vision of the future. The people that you studied with were so different yet held much of the same curiosity as you. You were all aware that it was nothing fantastical. It was a bearing of life. And it was what made it beautiful. You found friends in them. You would always mention a lover that had ventured off to pursue his dreams. But you weren’t allowed to say his name, or what he did. All to avoid any mishaps in the future. It was something Anton would thank you for, even though he wished both you and him could show off each other like you did with the superficial belongings you wore. But it wouldn’t be superficial for him, it would be a yell to the world that you were for him just as he was for you. 

Your dreams were always so specific. One night you had dreamed of the skylight at the airport. A year later you saw the same view. Another pivotal moment was from your childhood. You had dreamt of a boy, the one that lived from across your house. He ate cake with you on the patio. Days later you sat next to him as dusk approached, munching on what was left of your birthday cake. Last night you had a dream. It was somewhere you couldn’t recognize. It was long after the day had fallen and the sky drew black. Anton was there, and he cried. He held your hand so closely to his chest too. He said something, but it came out blurry. When you tried to speak for yourself, you woke up. Taking another breath, dewdrops escaped your eyes. It was one that led you to exert more effort on your studies. To understand what that dream meant. Because if it were the future talking to you, it could be something very dear or it could be the end of something beautiful. 

Your doubts would get the better of you. Your calls would mostly be just staring into the light of your screens, and the talk couldn’t be anymore typical. He grew more and more insecure by the day, what if his fears were being answered? but it should not be be that way, he could still talk to you every night and whenever he could. Things shouldn’t end like how it did for his uncle. A phonecall and a cold evening was all it took for you to realize how much your thoughts ate both of you up. 

“I think I can go home for my birthday.” it was an unsure statement, but he sounded firm. He was turning nineteen, and close to debuting too. And before giving his life away to stardom, he wished to spend all time possible with you. 

The look in your eyes made his heart shrink, and it almost came crashing down when you told him, “You should spend your birthday with your dad, your family. I’m gonna be very busy, Ton.” you voice was as gloomy as the view outside his window. “It’s study season, but I’ll keep contact with you.” your gloom washed over him, but still he was thankful that you didn’t say you would just try, but you will.

He wouldn’t reply but, but instead you’d see him just staring. He did it the way he always would with you. Back when you were still close enough to see even the smallest cracks of your faces. 

“I have something for you too. To which adress Ton?” when you lift your head up from your paper, you were met with the reflection of his screen in his glossed eyes. “Ton?”

“Dorms.” it was one word, and you still heard the crack in his voice. 

“Anton, I really wish I could see you too. But It would just be this time. After this you can see me whenever you’re available.” he felt your hands holding his cold ones. He felt warmth that wasn’t there. “I love you, so, so much.”

“I love you more.” he did truly. And he was dying to prove it to you, and to the world. 

It was a busy week, for you and for him. He was subjected to hours of practice, and he used it to distract himself from the dread. He was deprived greatly of your loving. But he knew you struggled too. He knew college didn’t treat you fairly. That’s why you were always on late-night calls. Even if you fell asleep he’d stay. For a while he’s looking over you. And after a few blinks he’s off to dreamland. His last dream kept repeating, over and over again. He tried his best to not let it show through his speech and his face. His face that everyone paid him great attention for. It was hard, painful even. His eyes, instead of tracing the lines of your lips, were tracing the lines of the practice room mirrors.

At nineteen, he woke up. He got up from the left side of his bed, where there was less space. His foot hit one end of his bedside table. He winced, but it was not one for grumbles. He walked to the bathroom, then he brushed his teeth. He had to look again because he thought his toothbrush changed colors. It did, and it was Sungchan’s. He brushed his teeth again, this time minding the colors whilst he thought of how he would explain the whole incident —or if he should even explain at all. He got behind the shower curtains just for a quick wash. After that he’d go back to his room to slip in some practice clothes. Once his loose hoodie had gone over his head, his eyes stumbled upon the calendar. It was his birthday. Almost forgot. He was off to practice, not minding the date. It was just like any other day, or birthday for that matter. Even then it seemed like nobody even knew it was his birthday. So he figured there was no point to dither. 

He was nineteen when he was given heavy scolding for not being precise with his dancing. It wasn’t the first time, but this has been the worst he’s ever gotten. Everyone was not aware of the heavy load he’s been carrying in his heart. Their dance teacher’s yell would make it even heavier. The six others were supposed to come out with a cake with three candles, and balloons that read ‘19’. After a few times of brushing back his hair with his fingers and fighting back the tears. And when the first drop seeped out, he stood up from the floor and with staggered steps, he got out of that place. He was off somewhere, where he had dreamt of. 

He thought that place in his dreams was utter imagination. But it was real. Maybe he did see the future. But you weren’t there, on the balcony of his room. The balcony faced another building that shunned all others. All he could really do was look up. He ignored the countless notifications that came pouring out of his lockscreen. It got too much that he’d silent his phone, turning on the do-not-disturb function. Before he could lock his phone though, he’d stare at his wallpaper. It was a photo of you, a very discreet one at that. It showed only a small portion of your face. Your wispy lashes and the curvature of your nose. And your eyes. His reflection when he took the photo was caught in it. And he was smiling, the way he should’ve been for his birthday. But now all he could think about was his uncle’s story. Despite the assurances that pointed to all directions that led him to you, he felt as if one day he’d be forcing himself to forget. But he could never forget you. Not even by great force. A ringing would dawn in his head. It took another drop of salt before he realized that the ringing was from the doorbell of their complex. 

It was not his first time answering the door. And he counted, from his room to there, it took sixteen steps. It always made him reminisce about that day in the music room. How you thought he’d be interested in anyone else that was not you. He had no space in his heart for any more interests because it’s filled with you and the music you both grew up loving —but never as much as you grew to love each other. He’d count his first step out of his room as one. He wondered if it would be his angered manager or his worried groupmates that would come through the door. Two. He was already wary of the consequences. Six. His birthday is long gone now, all he could think about was how he was going to explain himself. Twelve. Or maybe if he should call you late at night. Fourteen. He hoped once he’s dialed you, it won’t go straight to your inbox. Fifteen. He remembered you said you would send him a gift. Maybe, just maybe, it’s your gift waiting for him behind that muted door. Sixteen. The door opens slowly. He expects a box, small, big, anything. Or maybe he’d a screeching yell, or stressed apologies. 

When he’d the door was barely a peek and wide open, he saw blue. Blue, but somehow bright and lively. A pair of glittery eyes. And lips of his favorite color —coral pink. A hug is what he’d receive, and his eyes would continue to dispense his sorrows. He held you, like it was the first time all over again. And he led you to his room’s balcony, while still holding a box. He’d looked at you, like it was the first time. It felt like back when your houses faced each other. When he followed the same routine religiously, every single day, just so he could open that door the same time you would yours. He was happy that he’s able to let his eyes draw along your features. At the same time he was terrified. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

Tears swelled from his eyes. You tried your best to keep your jubilance, but your grin falters when you catch a glimpse of his dreaded countenance. “It’s not, Ton.”

You placed a hand on his cheek, and it was warm. He touched it with his own, and you’d flinch with how cold he was. He brought your hand from his cheek to his lips, leaving his fervor on your skin with a kiss. Suddenly you were brought to tears. The scene was all too familiar. An instance of deja vu. 

“I’m not dreaming?” almost in a sob, he’d ask you. His eyes pierced through your psyche, not harshly, but like he begged. You pulled him close to you, and there after a wistful eternity, he felt your silken lips against his. 

Forever is only possible in fiction, but he believed there was forever in you, and he sought for it in your essence. He felt like he was going crazy, and from chilling, you felt his body grow hotter as he lost himself in you. 

With a gentle push, he pulled away. But almost in a whine, he utters, “Why?” he wanted to cry again when he heard that sugared giggle of yours.

“Calm down, Ton.” you reply, still tittering at him. 

His hands cupped your face as he peppered it with kisses from your forehead to your chin. And he ends it with a kiss to your lips. “This is the best gift ever.” his breath crashed with yours, sending heatwaves to your rosy faces.

“Actually, your dad helped get here.” you kept your voice low, laying your head on his chest. “He was worried. Your group mates were messaging him too. They asked if you were home.” his eyes would dilate just enough as he hears for you. His fingers found their way through your hair. He’s never seen or felt anything like it before. “I don’t know if I should be saying this, but they meant to prank you. It’s a part of the surprise.” he heard him breathe a little louder. 

“They yelled at me for a prank —to surprise me?” he stammered with his words. His mellow voice made you nuzzle closer to him. “The prank didn’t work.”

“Yeah. I know.” you pulled away from his embrace. You faced him once you were sat up. “You’re debuting soon.”

“If soon is September, then yeah.” his eyes grew larger, and he could see an image of the stars in your backyard. “It’s our anniversary.” you gave him a weak nod, the next second your eyes released a river. He hurriedly swiped his thumb over them, “I’ll try my best to be around. It’s a busy month.” 

He was perplexed with how you laugh at yourself, replacing his hands with your own and wiping the tears away. “I thought we’re breaking up.” he made you yelp with how quick he got you enclosed in his arms again. 

“No, no. I can keep a secret. You can too.” you felt the movement in his throat as he gulped. He was choking back tears. “No one’s breaking up. Not in this universe.”

He allowed for your tears to continue falling on his forearms, it was hot, but forgiving. “I dreamt about this very moment. I thought it meant something bad. Because in there you were crying like earlier, and I felt so bad…” he ends your sobs with another kiss. 

“I did too.” he felt his fears creeping up behind him, but they would all go away when he met eyes with the girl he fell in love with through his living room window. “I dreamed about it every night, thought about it everyday. And I dreamed of a future where we’d share a cake on our own patio.”

His presence was like a meadow, so peaceful and warm, and comforting. His dream of eating cake with you like you had back then made you laugh louder than before, and he took it all in, making sure no other sounds drowned out his favorite song. 

He still wondered about what lies beyond the darkness of night, how dreams choose their explorers and nightmares crawled for their victims. But now he understood where dreams lie with him. Sometimes what seemed like a nightmare waiting to happen might just be a glimpse of his sweetest dreams. That dream he had where he thought you’d be there to end it all with him, it had only driven him to finally grasp on what it meant to dream. It was what his heart truly wanted. 

Maybe that dream was bound to come true. Because at nineteen, he received the biggest surprise of his life. And he ate a coral-pink cake with the girl that used to live from across his house. He believed it was foreshadowing, but still, he had it in him to make it come true. 

≈

Dreams could be a symbol of some psychological conflict we’re having within ourselves, but on the night of March 21st, year 2023, I found out that it could be a vision of the future. Though it would be discreet, just enough for you to have it mistaken as a future barricade. I may be wrong, I could’ve been just lucky to have someone as passionate about dreams as I am —I got this passion from him anyways— but the best way to deal with the weight it forces upon us is to just let it play out. It could be the catalyst for the dreams you’re set to build. I dream of owning a home, with a wealthy meadow, with blue and pink butterflies. I want a patio where it would be a comfort to lie and stargaze, where it will be comfortable to eat too. Because my fiancé loves cake, but he loves me even more. (Y/s/n. To Live A Dream. 2039)

≈

End.

what if this is a true story tho very late bday post for anton my loveydoves <3

[mwalani]

For the songfic event

Song: the red means I love you

Character: ∆lice

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖...

☆song - The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

☆warnings - blood, alice is kind of a yandere

☆notes - I hated how this turned out but I had no other ideas and I'm tired and yeah

[♡] Alice

You and Alice were really close. She was your best friend, believe it or not! But lately she's been having some extra feelings for you...

And that's how you got yourself here, nervously looking around as you wait for Alice to show up. She wanted to talk about something, but you have no idea on what.

That's when you felt her hand on your shoulder, making you look at her. Alice was staring at you, with a smile that made you feel a bit scared.

"Unfortunate, they say such a shame I turned out this way."

"A maniac?"

"Well, yeah, I get manic, when I cause a panic. And of course I'm excited when I see your around.."

As you listen to her words, you slowly walk away from her, taking Alice's hand off your shoulder which makes her mad.

" 'Cause my insides are red. And yours are too!"

You looked at her scared, feeling more and more nervous as she got closer to you.

"And the red on my face, is matching you. And goodness your bleeding,"

That's when you notice the red liquid on your face, making you panic to why you were bleeding in the first place.

"What a wonderful feeling, you're down and you're pleading... My head is just reeling."

You didn't know what to feel as soon as Alice pushed you to the ground, her smile psychotic, staring right through your soul.

"The red means I love you. Tasting your blood means I love you..."

[schoenpepper]

Chivalry Should Die!

Intro: Or, how to kill chivalry in five steps, featuring Idia Shroud!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread I got lazyyyy, mentions of hentai lmao, reader is not yuu, idia highkey being a loser

A/N: This is a request from an anon. Not sure if this is actually what they wanted, but if you're reading this I hope you like it. Kinda short idk I was really busy with that Jade songfic.

Masterlist

Opening the door

As the heir of a kingdom, you've long since been trained to be respectful, etiquette and decorum seared into your flesh and carved into your bones. Perhaps with such an upbringing, Royal Sword Academy would have been for you.

But the invitation is black.

Your first day in Night Raven College is nothing too interesting. You're sorted into Ignihyde (ha!), your housewarden is a floating tablet, and some magicless folk with a rabid cat crashed orientation, starting off the year with a literal bang! You're unphased, a polite smile on your lips as you gather your things and your wits and line up to head to the dorm. You go through the mirror and up the stone stairs that led to the building in its weird mishmash of ancient architecture and blue triangles and holograms.

You, being the very kind person you are, open the door for the tablet.

It stops in mid-air.

"What...? Did you just open the door for a tablet? Lolz! Wtf you're such a weird freshie lmao. Imagine being that person, idk couldn't be me ig."

You keep on smiling.

(But the urge to punt the tablet all the way back to the hall of mirrors is strong.)

Carrying items

"Oh, let me help you, senpai."

"Huh? No, I'm okay..."

You glance at the large box, clearly heavy and stuffed to the brim by whatever was inside it and your senior slash housewarden who was doing his best to lug it up the stairs as he panted. "Are you sure? You look like you're having trouble." You watch him carry it to the second step.

"Totally fine, yep, nothing weird here, nope, nuh uh, I don't need help."

Idia avoids your eyes. The tips of his hair are turning a faint pink, and the fact that Ortho wasn't the one doing the heavy lifting was really the very first giveaway that something was wrong.

You narrow your eyes and step back.

"If you say so, Idia senpai. But why don't you just use—" he accidentally drops the box back onto the ground, watching, horrified, as its contents spilled out, "—magic to...carry it..."

"No, Y/N, don't look!"

You pick up a thick book from the pile on the ground to help him gather it all. Manga, was it? Upon accidentally reading the title, you give him the most disgusted look you could ever muster.

Idia screams until Ortho comes by to help him put his hentai manga back into the box.

Always be on time

You and Idia had agreed; 4 p.m. Not too early, not too late to work on that essay you needed to pass by tomorrow. He's a good friend and upperclassman if nothing else, so he offered to help you with the topic, which was included in his wide range of expertise. The catch is that you had to do it in his room.

You knock on the door at exactly 4.

No answer.

You take out your phone and send him a quick message. When he doesn't immediately answer, you call Ortho instead.

"Hello, Y/N!"

"Hey Ortho, do you know where Idia is? He promised to help me with an essay and he's not in his room."

"Older brother and I are in the Shaftlands!"

You smile (instead of cracking your phone into pieces). "Really? And when did you leave?"

"We left this morning because there's a comic convention that brother wanted to go to."

"I see. Thank you, Ortho."

Help getting down from a carriage

You hop down the carriage and hold out a hand to Idia. He looks at your hand weirdly, hair pink as he murmurs something you couldn't quite understand (you just know it's something annoying though). He gingerly puts his hand on yours and carefully descends from the carriage.

And by carefully, you mean, of course, that he lets go of your hand halfway and trips on the stairs before faceplanting into the dirt.

You sigh and carry him in your arms.

"Eek! Is this a limited edition SSR CG?!"

"What?"

"I mean, where are you taking me?"

You look at him dead in the eye and press on his left ankle.

"Ouch! Oh...okay..."

Paying for a date

First date! You don't know how, but you managed to convince Idia to eat out in a fancy restaurant with you (if only because you know that he will never agree to anything like this ever again). The food is nice and the ambience is tolerable even though the two of you are in a public space (you chose a private room but to Idia it's still a public space apparently). At the end of the night, the waiter puts the bill on the table and leaves.

"I'll take the—" When your hand reaches for the check, Idia grasps onto your wrist.

"No."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"I'll pay for it because...you asked me out so...it's only fair..."

"No, it's unbecoming of a royal to not even pay for their partner's food."

He is weirdly competitive about this.

Anyway, at the end of the night, the check accidentally rips in half (the waiter wonders why) and you successfully pay for the full meal.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Let You Break My Heart Again’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst songfic)

I WAS LISTENING TO LAUFEY ON REPEAT AND REMINDED OF MY HIGH SCHOOL LOVE TRIANGLE SO WHY NOT WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT!!! HERE YOU GO!

part two

prompt: your heart belonged to javi, but his belonged to kate.

TW: unrequited love, angst, crying, swearing, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts (happens thrice), loss of appetite more than once, breakdowns, mention of throwing up.

Feeling kind of sick tonight

All I've had is coffee and leftover pie..

Today was just the worst. Shitty day at work, your in-charge was being a sweetheart to everyone except you, it’s like the whole world was playing a cruel joke on you today.

With no will to eat, you mindlessly looked in your fridge, the cool air and cool glow hitting your skin. Your eyes skimmed through something to hopefully make your feel better, and your eyes landed on a small glass Tupperware.

Peach cobbler pie.

You sighed, taking it out of the fridge and setting it on the counter, brewing some black coffee. The paperwork you had been procrastinating on started to pile up, and you had some weather reports due tomorrow. You needed the bitter drug, the pie there to balance the taste with its tender sweetness.

You were tender once; you were sweet once…

It’s no wonder why…

Life became hard and bitter once you moved away.

Well, did you have a reason to stay?

After that EF5, after holding onto Kate in that underpass for dear life, making sure she didn’t get sucked into that twister, Javi found you two and called the cops to help you both out.

Thing is, you always knew Javi had a thing for Kate. Even when she was dating Jeb, you saw the way he looked at her, the same way you’d look at him. And Kate didn’t ignore those looks of his, nor did she not notice them…

Ooh, still you take up all my mind…

You almost confided in Addy or Praveen about your feelings. You loved Javier. Ever since you both got super close in college. Ever since he’d always treat you like a good friend would. You ran on this high, you chased to be in his line of sight, craved his attention… You were soft, you were tender, you were sweet. You wanted to be it all, for him.

I don't even think that you care like I do

You were known as the ‘ray of sunshine’ or the ‘sweetheart’ in your friend group because you were just so nice. Mostly in the hopes of wooing Javier whenever you could. Make him think what it would be like to date you. Part of you loved to see his smile, loved the ‘thank you’s he’d give you, collecting them like shiny rocks. You usually found them on your morning walks, giving one to Javi whenever you thought he’d like them. But he just put them in his bag and forgot about them a few days later.

I should stop, heaven knows I've tried…

Days in college were spent fantasizing about him; about the way his arms would feel around you. He rarely hugged you. 3 times, to be exact - on his birthday, the day you both passed your finals, and when he found you were okay after the EF5. You couldn’t help but want to call him, text him, but what would you say?

And if he really wanted to talk to you, why didn’t he already? It’s been 5 years since you both have exchanged a word. 5 years since you two have seen each other’s faces. you had changed since college, no doubt. your hair was different; layered. Your style changed a little bit too, you wore makeup to work, in the hopes of being treated differently. You looked prettier with makeup on, anyways. Just a little highlighter, mascara, blush… nothing too overboard. Part of you dolled yourself up in the hopes of running into Javi in the streets somehow.

‘I should stop’ you thought to yourself as you got ready one day for work. You stared at your reflection, not knowing what you were looking for. Sighing, you finished up your makeup, surrendering to beautification, heading off to work.

“Someone’s here for you in the conference room” a co-worker told you. You gave them a confused look, walking to the conference room, to meet a familiar mop of curly hair - a lot shorter now, and the man you loved in a suit. Javier Rivera.

Of course he convinced you to come back to chasing storms. Of course he said it’ll be almost like the old times. Of course Kate was coming too.

You wanted to say no, you wanted to say you couldn’t, but he came all the way to look for you; once tender and sweet. The prospect of someone looking for you was something you dreamed of since you were an angsty teen. The prospect of someone caring about you enough to come back…

At least you tried to decline.

One day, I will stop falling in love with you

Some day, someone will like me like I like you…

The drive to Oklahoma was meant to be awkward. It meant to be tense. It meant to be hard on Javi. To make him feel bad. For you to act all pouty and mean just because you could. Just so you could if not tell, show him how hurt you were when he just disappeared.

But when he started to smile, crack jokes, retell stories, you couldn’t help but be nice in return. The rushing feelings came back, and for a moment, you forgot about Kate. You forgot about life being bitter and hard. All you remembered was being sweet and tender, because with Javi, it was familiar. It was natural. It felt like home.

Every soft look from Javi made you fall harder for him. To be treated like he once did to you. Friends. Best friends.

You both drove to Oklahoma, which wasn’t too far exactly, and he offered if you wanted to go out for dinner with him and Kate.

You wanted to be hard and bitter again.

As you and Javi went into a local diner near a motel, you both saw Kate sitting in a booth, waving to you. Or so you thought - she was looking Javi in the eye, who had a grin on his face. He sat in the booth with Kate, opposite to you. They both smiled at each other, and you wanted to be swallowed by the same EF5 your friends left in, because maybe, just maybe, Javi would have cared more about you if you were dead.

Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie

Pretend that we are more than friends…

“… just some coffee and peach cobbler pie, please” you flashed the waiter a warm, tired smile. You didn’t look at Javi or Kate, rather traced the wooden table, stared out the window, faked a yawn, bounced your leg.. of course they didn’t say anything to you. They had their little side conversation.

As your face was turned a 90 degree angle from the two, from the corner of your eye, you saw Kate squeeze Javi’s bicep. You downed a mouthful of coffee, coughing after. Javi handed you a tissue, not sparing you a glance as he laughed at something Kate said.

Suddenly you have no appetite.

Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again

You put your head down on the table, Kate glanced at the mop of hair on the table

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” she asked softly, Javi looked at you for the first time during dinner.

“Do you feel sick?” He asked brows knitting in concern.

You shot up, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, this coffee made me feel sick.” Javi looked at your basically untouched pie, but empty cup of coffee, and back into your rosy eyes.

“Get some rest, yeah?” Kate suggested. Javi nodded. You sighed.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, you two” you rubbed your face, giving them a small wave. They both smiled softly, waving back.

As you reached the exit, you looked over your shoulder as much as you didn’t want to, and saw the two smiling and laughing again.

With a heavy heart, you checked into your motel, took a sip of water to calm your body down, and with one glance in the mirror, you broke down; crying yourself to sleep, with tears staining your face and your pillows, the land of rest took you in for the night.

I'm just tryna understand what I am to you

More than songs, we've exchanged

Midnight calls, sunset views

Over the next few days, you spent them chasing with Storm Par. Of couse Javi went with Kate. She had more genius than you did, apparently, even though you two were both equally smart.

Javi talked to you that morning, his charming grin greeting you along with the early morning sun.

“Dandy weather, yeah?” he nudged you, trying to get you to cheer up. You rewarded his efforts with a small, half hearted smile.

You both had a pretty genuine chat, just like in college, until Kate joined you two. Then again, you were invisible. And the tension between the two was as strong as a supercell. You were obviously hurt, because your time in college was so much… richer. Late at night after curfew, you two would sneak out because you two were the only ones up for that kinda stuff. You’d go to the roof, stay up there talking all night then watch the sunrise together. Now, the only one he orbited was Kate, Kate, Kate.

Then, it was time to chase.

You paired up with Scott instead, being a little emotionless that day, and gave him a respectful nod of acknowledgement. The chase was silent apart from the orders coming from the radio. No conversation was initiated - you didn’t wanna have another breakdown.

For the first chase, which failed because Kate had a PTSD attack, you saw Javi comfort her after they got back to the motel; The sky was now dark, every storm chaser had a bonfire up, the atmosphere was enough to heal Kate alone, but of course, Javi was there for her too.

Your heart clenched. You remembered how hard you cried last night, almost suffocating against the sheets many times. The room was dull, taunting, and the only thing who could have helped you in that moment was Javi. But why would he see your pain and not Kate’s first?

You all gathered around the bonfire - the Storm Par crew, some other group called the Tornado Wranglers, some local chasers and what not. You saw the tall, orange fire. It looked inviting. Your breathing stilled, your body relaxed, your mind wandered.

You were disassociating, looking at everything from the 3rd person POV, the chasers in a circle around the fire, Kate and Javi next to each other a few seats away from you, talking like normal. You kept saying Javi’s name, yelling it, screaming it, but no matter what you did, he didn’t even spare you a glance. So you looked behind, turning around, and saw the fire. Without a second glance at him, without thinking, you walked into the warm, welcoming flames, feeling it consume you, swallow you whole-

At the sound of everyone toasting to more twisters, you snapped out of your little morbid daydream. Looking over at Javi and Kate, you saw her leaning against his side, his arm around her waist, smiles on their faces. Kate whispered something into Javi’s ear, and he looked down at her with a grin. She cupped his cheek, your eyes stung, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, romantic, kiss.

Promise I don't mean to cry

But I get overwhelmed and confused

If only you knew what I felt like

Your eyes stung, your bile rose in your throat, your lungs felt like they were collapsing and you wanted nothing more than to be disoriented, sedated, dead.

Breathing hard, you fled for the fields. Knocking over one of Javi’s beer bottles by accident, you speed walked, then ran to the backside of the motel, where there was a patch of grass. The surroundings were dark, the crickets seemed to taunt you, and your head was spinning. You needed more air than you could take in, your head had a dull, throbbing pain in it, you wanted to throw up, purge those feelings onto the soft grass.

You cried, covering your face and cried. Hard. Your whole body was stiff.

He kissed her

He kissed her. Oh he kissed her, he kissed her, he kissed her.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you. You didn’t even register Javi running after you to check in on you.

“God damnit, are you okay? What’s wrong?!” He panicked, not touching you, though he knew you loved physical touch.

Why would he, anyway? He had a girlfriend-

Kate Carter.

“Leave… me a-alone” you wheezed, hiding your face, curling into a ball onto the dirt.

“Please” you begged, “I-I can’t be down here, I need to go ho-home” you cried “it- it’s a family emergency.” you lied through your teeth. Of course he wouldn’t question it. He didn’t care enough to even look at you. Why would he question a pretty good reason?

Javi looked at you, his face concerned. He nodded.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)” he said softly. Genuinely.

It took all your willpower not to launch yourself into his arms. But the thought that Kate had been in them more often than you did sickened you.

One day, I will stop falling in love with you

Some day, someone will like me like I like you

So you ran through the fields, ran until your lungs burned, until you were going to faint, running on nothing but peach cobbler pie and coffee since almost 24 hours ago.

Your legs gave out, and your hands embraced the ground below, seeking comfort from Mother Nature which nobody could give you. Your body was folded and like a wounded animal, you let out guttural, gut wrenching sobs. You wanted to unsee it, to pour Javi’s beer over your eyes, to gouge them out for their sockets.

“Make it stop” you sobbed, choking on your saliva. “Please, make it stop” you prayed to the heavens above and the spirits below. You needed this to stop. The pain, the jealousy, the love to stop.

You fell asleep there in the field, Your breathing ragged, yet eventually even. You mumbled, whimpered, cried in your sleep. Seeing Javi kiss Kate. Seeing Javi hug Kate. Seeing Javi move in with Kate. Seeing Javi say ‘I love you’ to Kate, and Kate saying ‘I love you’ back. It was all Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate…

It wasn’t until one of the Wranglers found you that you woke up.

“Hey, it’s the girl from Storm Par!” The blonde man said to himself. You stirred, groaning.

“Tyler Owens?” you blinked your eyes open, he offered you a hand, which you ignored and got up.

“What’re you doin’ out here in the fields?” He asked, chewing some wheat between his teeth.

You hesitated. “Long story, but if you can drive me to the train station, I think we have enough time to go over it.” you asked with a pleading look. “Please, Tyler, one favour”

Tyler sighed, giving up “Sure. That’s what friends are for”. You smiled, thanking him.

Then you both disappeared off to the train station at 6:35 in the morning, where Tyler was so kind to lend you a ride. You went over the whole story, since college to now. 5 years worth of internalized drama, not sparing a single detail; He nodded along, gave his animated reactions, gave his input and advice where necessary. And soon enough, you were at the train station.

“Thanks for the ride, Tyler.” you thanked again, genuinely “and dont tell anyone about this” you said seriously, referring to the situation you described.

“Scout’s honour” He gave you his flashy smile “Take care out there, cowgirl” he chuckled. You nodded and smiled, grabbing your bag.

“You too”

Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie

Pretend that we are more than friends

Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again

Back at home, you delved back into work, relieved to be away from the new couple. Life was bitter and hard, accompanied by your peach cobbler pie; you never really got over Javi and Kate, you just tried forgetting about them. Whenever you read a romance book or watched some rom-com, you imagined the couples to be you and Javi. Sometimes, you’d dream of you and Javi together, as a couple.

But as you dreamed of this, a few states away, Kate was living your wished reality.

—

taglist!!:

@urbexbat

[avalynlestrange]

Foolish One

Theodore Nott x reader, Draco Malfoy x reader (Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson in the background)

Reader: she/her pronouns, half-blood or muggleborn, no house mentioned, really loves sweets, desserts and kittens

Warnings: Toxic situationship, cheating, mentions of death, mentions of drinking

Category: Angst, unrequited love, best friends to lovers?, no use of y/n, short story, one-shot, songfic

Summary: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.

“Listen.” Theodore puts the book he was reading down to look at you and say, “Your cards are on the table, his are in his hands. Maybe you need to distance yourself. You’re just going to get hurt.” You ignore Theo and continue to think aloud, “Chances are, tonight, he’s already got plans.”

Author’s Note: This is my first ever fiction for a long time. Please be kind. English is not my first language and I’ve tried to proofread as best as I can.

Word Count: 6k

To The Library (Main Masterlist) To The Kitchen (WIPs) To Speak Now TV Anthology To more Theodore Nott fics To more Draco Malfoy fics

It was nearly the weekend. You had left Draco a note earlier this week in your usual secret spot to send each other messages but alas you had received no reply. Here you are on a Friday night, on the floor of an empty corridor, staring at a blank stone wall.

“Maybe he just hasn’t checked it yet.”

“Or he’s ignored it.” Your best friend, Theodore, replies.

“Maybe he hasn’t had time to read it alone.”

Theodore sighs, “This isn’t the first time he hasn’t responded to one of your little love notes.”

You toss a pebble your finger found across the hallway, and say, “It’s not his fault that his parents wouldn’t approve of me. He has to keep us a secret even to his circle.”

“Listen.” Theodore puts the book he was reading down to look at you and say, “Your cards are on the table, his are in his hands. Maybe you need to distance yourself. You’re just going to get hurt.”

You ignore Theo and continue to think aloud, “Chances are, tonight, he’s already got plans.”

You shuffle and lie down on his lap while he carries on trying to read his book. You turn your head to look along the corridor. No sign of Draco coming to find you.

“He’s probably at a party. Wasn’t there a friendly game of quidditch with Ravenclaw earlier Teddy?”

“I don’t know.”

“He must be at an after-party or some sort. Do you know if the Slytherins are throwing a party this evening?” You ask, gently moving Theo’s book away from his face.

“I don’t know.”

“You must do. You’re friends, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” His tone now has a hint of annoyance, lifting his book up once more.

“Okay then.” You huff. You decide to pick up your book. It wasn’t a rare activity, you and Theo reading together. Not always in the corridor. Often times in your dorm rooms. Often times in the common room. You were fond of each other’s company. It was something you’ve always done since you were children. Mr. Nott used to leave Theo at yours ever since Theo’s mother passed away. Your mother was a governess, and your family had a history of serving the Nott family.

It continued during your acceptance to Hogwarts. You both liked being one of the earliest students for breakfast to have a chance to read and eat and finding a spot in the library devoid of the sound of scribbling quills. The two of you sometimes even stay during the winter holidays as it was a lot more peaceful and merry than being at home.

You read in silence for a chapter and began talking again where you left off.

“Chances are he is at a party, and you know he hates it when I show up. Says it distracts him.”

Theodore groans.

And chances are you will talk yourself to sleep again.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

It was the next morning and there you were in the great hall. Preparing tea for Theo and yourself. Theo instinctively passes you the sugar bowl. 

“What are your plans for today then?” He asks as he pours a splash of milk into your cup.

“I’m not sure yet. We do have that essay due for History of Magic on Tuesday.” You say as you hear a group of people joining your table.

“Morning Nott.” Draco says as he sits down opposite you. He greets you a good morning by nodding your way.

“Good morning, Draco.” Your eyes quickly flicker up and down from him to your breakfast trying not to look Draco in the eyes. You could never look at the silver pair for too long and not blush, so you best kept your glancing to a minimum when you’re in a group setting. You find it difficult as you are sat directly opposite him.

Draco gestures to the sugar bowl next to your teacup and asks you, “Pass me the sugar.”

You feel your cheeks getting hot as his hands brushes against yours as you hand him his requested item. It’s little moments like this that make you forget when he fails to seek you out that week. You are reminded of his little nickname of ‘sweet thing’ for you during secret rendezvous in vacant classrooms.

Throughout breakfast, Draco chats normally to his crowd. Occasionally you see him with his eyes on you and you lock gazes for no longer than two seconds before looking away. His leg touches yours now and then.

He gives you just enough attention like this in public to keep your hopes too high. What’s more, is that you get these wishful thoughts that these moments could be longer and known by everyone. But wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right and you will block out these voices of reason in your head.

And the voices say, ‘You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson.’

You shake your head, physically shaking these voices out of your head.

“You okay?” Theodore asks.

You assure him and yourself that you are, with a weak smile.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Later that day you briskly walk towards the loose stone that is your ‘Draco mailbox’ and pry it off, but like the day before: still nothing.

You hear a voice in your head telling you, ‘Foolish one. Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come. This will not end well. You will take the long way down.’

He knows how to keep you waiting. He did mention something about a group hang earlier during breakfast. Nevertheless, you know better than to show up when you weren’t directly invited. That happened one time during Summer last year when his group decided to celebrate finishing their O.W.L.s, and later that day Draco raised his voice at you in a broom closet for showing up uninvited claiming that the group might see it as suspicious. He, of course, apologised for shouting when he saw tears in your eyes, but you never got a single letter from him during the two-month break.

Yes, it’s best if you just waited for him to answer with a time and date. You sigh and walk to the library. You politely ask Madam Pince for a quill, ink, and parchment. She clicked her tongue at your lack of equipment but let you off this time since you are a prefect, and this was the first time you came to the library unprepared. With your head down you walk over to find the textbook you needed and sit at the nearest empty table.

You hear the stool next to you move and see a smiling Theodore.

“This seat taken?”

You shake your head, and he sits down. You continue to flip the book to a relevant page but don’t see that Theo was scanning your demeanour. His eyebrows furrowed. ‘This could only mean one thing’, he thought to himself. 

As if you could sense Theodore’s next question, you turn to him with a smile pasted on your face, “I am fine Teddy! Stop looking at me like that!”

You feign a giggle. You know how to act like you’re fine. You change the conversation and the afternoon felt lighter. Whispered jokes and snickers were exchanged for hours between you and the boy with the chestnut hair. It was always like that with Theo. He always knew how to brighten up your day. 

“Well thank you, Teddy. Now it’s nearly curfew and I’ve only written less than half a parchment.”

“Hey! You’re the one distracting yourself. I’ve written at least one piece.” You roll your eyes, grinning at Theodore tickling your nose with his quill. That’s when you see the scene. Draco walked past hand in hand with a red-faced Pansy Parkinson. Your eyes meet with Draco, and he quickens his pace out of your vision.

“That worthless pile of erumpent dung!” Theo curses. He knew this whole thing between you and Draco was wrong in the first place, but he never voiced his opinion so as to not come across as jealous. Merlin knows how Theo was, and is, very green and is slowly rotting on the inside.

But he loves seeing you beam when you talk about your dates, that he tunes out the details of your escapades and absorbs the beautiful shade of pink flush on your cheeks and glimmer in your eyes. At this moment in time, however, his heart aches at the sight of the scarlet pout of your lips and your eyes welling up. “I thought you two were on the same page of exclusively dating!”

“We… never actually agreed on anything like that. I… I don’t know what to call this situation.” You quickly roll your homework and inhale deeply to keep the tears at bay. There must be an explanation for the sight you had just witnessed.

‘But I know I can’t call you mine. So, I will grit my teeth and I will do my best to seem bulletproof.’ At the thought, another inhale, you suggest, “How about a butterbeer break?”

And Theodore can’t say no to that.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

That evening you couldn’t help but walk along the hallway you know like the back of your hand.  By instinct, you stop at the stone and spot that it was a little ajar.

‘Meet me at the boathouse at Midnight. - D’

There it was. You feel an emotion somewhere between merry and misery. You settle for nauseous and blame it on the six butterbeers you consumed earlier at the Three Broomsticks with Theo. You decide to start walking there now. A few hours of fresh air could be good. Yes. A breath of crisp autumn air is what you need to expel this uneasiness in your chest.

“You’re early.” You hear when you reached the doorway of the boathouse. Draco sat at the edge of the ledge, his bare feet in the water.

“I could say the same thing to you.” A little bitterness in your pitch.

He pats the space adjacent to him and you sit cross-legged. The air is cold and the rippling waters in front of you hypnotise your heartbeat to calm down.

You both start to say something, then cut each other off to ask the other to continue.

“It’s not what you think.” Draco pauses. “What you saw earlier in the library. Pansy threatened to tell my father about the secret girl I was seeing and that I was to take her to Hogsmeade and buy her all the sweets she wants from Zonko’s.”

He reaches for his robes.

“Here. I got this for you.” He passes you a bag wrapped with a ribbon. “Sweet things for my sweet thing.”

You thank him as you accept his gift. You start munching on the sweets and offer him some.

“Does she know it’s me?” Your voice is a little too wishful than you hoped it would come out.

“No! Thank Merlin! My father will have my head if he hears I’m not seeing a pureblood.”

It hurts a little when you hear him explain time and again why you have to be a secret. But it doesn't bother you as much 'cause when your head is on his shoulder, it starts thinkin' he'll come around. And maybe, someday, when you’re older, this is something you'll laugh about, over coffee every mornin' while he’s reading the news.

You and Draco stay in the boathouse, telling each other what you were up to during the holidays, aiming candy at each other’s mouths, holding hands, and giving the other soft kisses in the light of the moon until it’s a little too cold and too late to continue.

“When can I see you next?” You ask.

He lets go of your hand as you reach the entryway.

“I’ll let you know.”

You nod and walk to your dorm. You were sure that you were going to see Draco again in hushed hours like this one.

But then the voices say, ‘You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson'

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Throughout the week, you were too preoccupied with checking for a note from Draco and stealing glances here and there that you fail to notice that your duo had become a trio. Daphne Greengrass had been hanging around you and Theo recently and you only are aware of her presence at this moment when your usual quiet bookworm is talking during breakfast, but not to you.

“It’s the first match of the season later. Would you like to watch the Quidditch in the afternoon with me?” Daphne suggests, her hand reaching for Theo’s arm.

“Sure.” The boy replies.

“Who are you and what have you done to my Teddy?” You laugh, “We have never watched a single game!”

It was true. Even if Draco was on the Slytherin team and invited you to watch once, since most of the school attends it anyways, you refused given that you and Theo had a tradition of having a picnic and playing Scrabble by the Black Lake. You two were never interested in sports.

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” Daphne proposed. You realise her hand was still on Theo’s arm and this somewhat makes you frown.

“Theo and I already have plans.” You stated, now reaching for his other arm, “Don’t we Teddy?”

“We can do that tomorrow instead. I am quite curious as to what all the fuss is about, aren’t you?”

“But we have never cancelled our… plans before. Even that one time you had a cold, you insisted we hang out. It’s our tradition.”

“I don’t mean to impose. If you’re busy Theo, we can hang out at Hogsmeade in the evening instead.” She says, her hand still lingering on Theo’s arm, so you have an urge not to move yours either.

“We can do both.” He accepts and his head turns to you, “Are you coming with us?”

You don’t know what to say. A swirl of emotions runs through your veins.

“No.” And with that, you stomp off to your dorm.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

You saw Theo less and less that week and you start to spend more time with your dorm mates. You start to miss him. He wasn’t as early to breakfast every day and when he was, Daphne and other Slytherins came in with him. Your study meetings turned into group hangs but you didn’t mind it as much you said to yourself since Draco was part of that group.

However, your eyes were not gazing upon the blond boy but at the chestnut hair boy with his newfound friend.

Why didn’t you like Daphne with Theodore?

You made an effort to look away when you see him smiling at her. You felt your teeth clench whenever Daphne playfully slapped Theo’s arm when she was laughing at something he said. Your hands were in fists when she linked her arm with his when you all walked from class to class.

You don’t understand what you are feeling. You can’t be jealous about your best friend being interested in other girls. You decide you were just feeling a little replaced. That was it, and nothing more. Right?

But what really blew your top was what you were hearing now.

“Yeah, we can go watch the quidditch game tomorrow.”

“Again?” You exclaim but then remembered you were in the library and carry on with a whisper, “You’ve cancelled on me the last game!”

“Oh yeah” Theo replies as if he didn’t remember. When in all honesty, he never did forget. He was trying to distance himself away from you to lessen the aching of his heart.

“Teddy you can’t do this to me.”

“How about I make it up to you by taking you to the last Hogsmeade trip and buying you all the sweets you want so you can stock up for the winter break.” He smiles and when you smile back, he forgets about his vow to himself to spend less time with you.

You hesitate to say yes. You really want to be with him by the lake.

“And I’ll even let you drag me around to window shop to all the places you want me to.”

And you can’t say no to that.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Amidst all the happenings, you had forgotten to check your mailbox. You see a scrap of paper telling you to meet at the boathouse once again at midnight and this time you choose to be punctual. You dress up a little to make up for the fact that you might have already missed the actual date the note was meant for.

You are already on the steps going down to your meeting place when the clock chimes 12 o’clock. A chill runs through your body as you were not wearing your winter jacket but a cute, albeit thin, jumper. You were walking with a skip in your step when you hear her.

“Draco, what about your secret girl?”

“She means nothing to me. It’s not like we were going to get serious.”

You halt just before the entryway.

“But weren’t you dating her since last year?”

“Dating is a strong word. Now shut up so I can kiss those lips.”

So you run. As fast as your feet can take you and go into the nearest empty room.

Now you’re slidin' down the wall with your head in your hands sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

He hadn't written you or called all summer and the voices in your head are tellin' you why,

‘He’s got her on his arm and you in the wings. You’ll get his longing glances, but she'll get his ring. And he will say he had the best of intentions.’

And maybe now you will finally learn your lesson.

The air feels thick that you can’t breathe and your vision blurs with the waterworks flowing out of your tear ducts.

Draco was right. You were never going to get serious. You knew this deep down and felt it in your heart every time you were with him, but the truth hurts when the reality of it all is said aloud.

When you finally get to your room at 3am. You don’t bother to change and sleep your troubles away.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

You skipped lessons that day. You hadn’t meant to, but you woke up past noon and there were only two lessons left that you resolved to miss those too and went back to sleep. You weren’t ready to face people yet.

A pounding in your head awakens you and makes you sit up and reach for your water bottle by your bedside table but see a plate of pastries covered in cling film and a note stuck on top.

‘I didn’t see you at breakfast. I asked your dorm mate to send this to you. – Teddy’

That was sweet of him. Theo never fails to be there when it counted. You notice more items on your bedside table. You see a thermos flask, a book, a wrapped-up sandwich, a couple of more notes, and a red concoction in a small vial that was labelled ‘pepperup potion’.

‘I didn’t see you in class, so I asked Alison to drop this off to you. She said you didn’t look too well. I’ll see you at lunch? – Teddy’

‘I didn’t see you at lunch. Alison said your eyes looked puffy. Do you have a cold? If so I asked her to bring you some supplies. Make sure to take it. I’ll see you after class? – Teddy’

‘I don’t know why I thought I’d see you in any of the afternoon lessons today. How silly of me. I need to sort out a few things and I’ll see you before dinner. – Teddy’

You giggle at how much effort your best friend had gone towards to ensure you are okay. The clock above the doorway says 5 o’clock. Only an hour after classes and Teddy will probably expect you around 5:45pm so you can lounge about the courtyard before dinner time.

However, you felt famished, so you open the selection of breakfast pastries. Theo had picked out all your favourites. He’s always thoughtful like that. One time, you had mentioned your favourite book series with him and within the week he read all of them and bought you both the newly released novel by the same author so you can read it together.

Another time when you used to have recurring nightmares when you were little, you’d go to Theo and he’d read you passages from fairytales until you fell asleep. When you broke your foot during the second year, he insisted that he carried all your books to and from classes even though a simple levitation charm would do, and walk in front of you so no one barges you causing you to trip.

You really don’t know what you’d do without Theodore in your life.

You hear a knock on the door.

“Alison you can come in. You don’t need to knock.”

The door creaks open.

“I’m not Alison.” Theodore peeps in, his eyes on the ceiling. “Can I come in?”

“Of course. Thank you for your care package.” You move to make room for him on your bed.

“Of course. Couldn’t have you starve yourself.” He looks to your bedside table and states, “You didn’t drink the potion I made for you. It’s supposed to clear up your cold.”

He stood there by the end of your bed, his hands behind his frame. He looks cautiously at you.

“I’m not ill.” You assure him.

“Good, because…”  He raises a basket and a tote bag. “I’ve brought us Scrabble and a picnic.”

“But aren’t you going to see the match with Daphne?”

“Not when my favourite girl isn’t feeling well.”

You smile up at him. “But I told you I’m not unwell.”

“Physically maybe but I think you need some fresh air. Now go get ready. I’ll wait outside the door.”

“I really am okay.”

You assure him and yourself that you are, and you truly do feel it.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Your normal routine before Draco came into your life fell back into place, although Theodore was hanging out with Daphne more and more, which still annoyed you. Theo did make some time for you but not as much as you’re used to. You sigh. Breakfasts no longer consisted of silently reading, occasionally speaking to discuss plot points and characters, but with Daphne and the rest of the Slytherin crowd rowdily talking.

You hadn’t spoken to Draco at all ever since that night at the boathouse. He never even addressed it. Not that you checked the mailbox. If he really cared he would have said something by this point, but judging by his actions and the words you heard that night, you had accepted weeks ago that whatever was between you was over.

“So, what are we all doing for the last trip to Hogsmeade today then?” Draco asks, but his eyes lock with yours.

“I’m having tea and shopping with the girlies.” Daphne wriggles her shoulders excitedly. She looks to you and extends an invitation.

To which you thank her but decline politely, “Teddy promised me a full weekend of sweets and shopping. Isn’t that right Teddy?”

You aren’t sure if it is your imagination, but you see a twinkle in Theo’s eyes as he beams at you confirming your plans. You put your arm through his and squeeze it in excitement.

Theo chuckled. “I already regret adding the window-shopping part.”

You head to your dorm to pick up your cardigan as Theo insisted you needed more layers for the winter weather. A figure stops you in your tracks.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for Nott.” Draco sneered.

“Not really your business to know who or who I don’t have a thing for Malfoy.”

He grabs your hand and pulls you to the side.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try to shrug off his hand, but he wasn’t letting go.

“What happened to us? I thought we were dating, and you left me hanging for weeks.”

“Dating is a strong word.” You spit his words back to him like venom.

That’s when he releases your hand.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Your day with Theo went by so fast. You started off at Zonko’s so you can graze snacks while you peruse through each shop. Theo swears you haven’t skipped any stores but doesn’t complain at all. The conversations flowed easily. You stayed the longest time at the pets and familiars shop to pet all the kittens. He literally had to drag you away with a bribe of pumpkin pie for lunch.

Many days have gone by where you spent time away from each other. Reasons varied as Theo tells you he was busy with whatever excuse he had that day. You noticed that he’d been avoiding you recently. You’re glad that you get to make up for all those hours now.

You share a slice of pumpkin pie and beg Theo to take you back to the pets and familiars shop. He rolls his eyes, but you know he can’t refuse the thought of the adorable kittens. Little do you know that it’s your cuteness he can’t resist.

The two of you start to walk onward to your mission when you see a glimpse of Draco hand in hand with a red-faced Pansy. You knew it. But strangely, you find yourself not upset by it.

“Theo! They still have our favourite!” You jump up and down like a child outside a toy store.

He watches you smiling as you all but ran into the store. You remain surrounded by kittens until a shop assistant ushered you out at the behest of their manager. Reluctantly you say goodbye to the animals and staff and are shocked to see that the sky was magenta-coloured, signalling that the evening is arriving.

 “I’m hungry, are you?” You inspect all the choices of venue you had for dinner.

“Starving. Let’s go in there.” He gestures toward Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. “I heard they have a great selection of drinks and desserts.”

You follow Theo even though you seem to recall that other students have previously mentioned that they take their dates there. Having never visited since Draco was the first boy you have “gone out with”, and your meetings never involved crowded places and three would have been a crowd, you were excited to finally step into the dainty looking café.

He opens the door for you and a bell rings. You were seated straight away, and it didn’t take long for a staff member to take your order. Examining the people around, you notice a trend of couples holding hands and gazing into one another’s eyes. Did Theo really mean to take you in here?

Detecting your initial discomfort, Theo apologises, “I didn’t know it would be like this here. We can leave if you want?”

“Nonsense! It’s a nice place. Plus, I’m excited for my drink to arrive.” Grinning at him, you take in the view of bows and lace everywhere.

Even though the atmosphere was romantic, you felt at ease being there with Theo. You push back questions you had whenever you sense that his eyes were trying to read your thoughts or when his hand stayed on yours longer than friends should.

He orders a funfetti cake for dessert and you both split each other’s sweet course. Before you know it, it was nearly time to head back to the castle. Another ring of the bell and you were standing in front of the entrance.

You shiver slightly and Theo quickly unwraps his scarf.

“Teddy I’m fine!”

“No, you’re cold. Don’t argue.” He wraps his green scarf around your neck. You inhale the scent of smoke and sandalwood. You bury your cheeks into the scarf to hide the pink colour threatening to expose how much you like the fact you are enveloped by a piece of his clothing.

“I guess it’s time to head back.” You say but see Theo looking distracted.

You look up to see a mistletoe wrapped with a ribbon on the pole of the tea shop’s sign.

He looks at you and tilts his head. Was that him asking for permission?

You shrug then nod at him. “It’s a known tradition after all.”

“Of course.”

Theo leans in close enough so that the clouds you exhale from your lungs mingle in the air. He moves a strand of loose hair and tucks them behind your ear. His hand stays on your face and his eyes flicker down to your lips. You close the gap between you.

You are kissing Theo under the mistletoe.

At first, the kiss is gentle as if he is being wary of the line you were crossing, but when you reach to run his hair with your hands, he pulls you in deeper. You gasp for air, and he takes it as an opportunity to explore you with his tongue.

Thoughts pull you back to reality.

You are kissing Theo under the mistletoe.

Stepping back, you stare at him wide-eyed.

“I have to go.” You say breaking the silence.

And you didn’t see how Theodore’s eyes follow you.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

You didn’t actually have to go anywhere; you just needed some space to cool down. Your cheeks were burning red, and you didn’t want Theo to see you like that. Especially since he only kissed you because of the mistletoe. Especially since you enjoyed kissing him. Especially when the voices in your head are back saying, ‘Foolish one you will take the long way down.’

This time you don’t want to learn the hard way. You can’t be falling for him like this. You didn’t want to lose him if it goes sour.

“You’ve been walking in circles.” Theo calls out to you, “Where are you trying to go?”

You stop your feet but don’t turn back to face him.

“I was just heading to…” Your voice fades out to a mumble, and you begin to walk once more.

Theo lightly grasps your arm, and you jump at how fast he caught up to you. You face him.

“You never said anything.” He states.

“It was just a kiss. We were just under a mistletoe.” You look down, kicking the pebbles near your feet.

“You never said anything.” You echo.

“Yeah, we were just under a mistletoe.”

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

The last week of term dragged on. Theo and you never mention that night to anybody. And if it was even possible, you saw him less than the week before. You are determined to fix your situation. The past two days were unbearable. So, you corner him on his way to the library.

“Why are you ignoring me, Teddy?” You simply question.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You keep avoiding me in the halls and speaking monosyllabically to me in class. Why?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. We’re friends, aren’t we? Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?” You ask, gently moving his arm and motioning him to face you.

“Maybe I want more.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so blind, you can’t even see that I’ve been right here! In love with you since I could remember.”

“Your father would never approve of me.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t care about your blood status! I accept you for who you are! But waiting all these years for you to see me like I see you have been crushing my heart slowly.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“I have to go.” He says.

And it’s your turn to follow Theo with your eyes.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

You couldn’t sleep at all that night replaying Theo’s confession. You think about all the ways you could have responded and use that moment as a chance for you to voice out your growing feelings. Now he probably despises you.

You recite how you were going to confront Theo for the next day, word for word since you want to accurately tell him that you reciprocate his sentiment. But toss and turn again at the thought of what-ifs.

You get up early and ready yourself for the day mentally. You don’t grab any breakfast because you already felt so queasy. The voices in your head say to you, ‘Foolish one The day is gonna come for your confessions of love.’

This time you were in harmony. You were going to tell Theo everything. How foolish you had been. How you can’t imagine life without him. You head to his dorm room as you know it’s typically empty at this time of the morning and Theo habitually returns to his dorm just after breakfast to put down his books.

You had 2 free periods back-to-back on a Thursday morning, so you have ample time to gush about your feelings. You spot that his door was slightly ajar and knock anyways. The force swings the door slowly open. The room was empty. You sit on Theo’s bed and look around. You notice a few crumpled-up pieces of paper in the bin next to his nightstand.

Curiosity got the better of you as you unwrinkle one piece and gasp when you notice it was addressed to you. You pick up more pieces and all of them are confessions to you, describing how he felt during the day he wrote them. All this time you were waiting for confessions of love and thought they were never going to come, and there they were sitting in a pile of rubbish.

All signed off as:

Yours,

Teddy

Could he be? Yours?

You run to the Slytherin common room and don’t see Theo anywhere. You spot Blaise playing chess with Tracey.

“Have you seen Theo?” You interrupt them.

“He’s gone on a date with Daphne.” Tracey replies, focused on her match as Blaise’s bishop takes her knight.

He can’t. Be yours.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

It was the last day of the first term, and you sit at your usual far corner of the great hall for breakfast. No Theodore in sight. You set up extra early since you left him a note by his bedside table the day before to meet him at 6:30 when the meal starts.

There he was. Your note is in his hands and you watch him as he walks to you and knits his brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, a little worried.

He sits opposite you instead of his usual spot next to you. You bring your hands above the table and show his letters in your hand.

“This. This is what’s wrong.”

“Look I…”

You cut him off. “Why didn’t you send them?”

He stares at you blankly and scratches his head. “What do you mean send them?”

“You fool. I would’ve walked out sooner and run to you.”

“I didn’t think you felt the same way. That’s why I threw them out. You didn’t come to me to talk after what happened in the hallway and you never brought up the kiss again.”

You blush at the memory.

“How did you get those anyways?” His eyes narrow.

“Never mind about that. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Hear what?”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

After hours of rehearsal, you could only utter 5 words. “I feel the same way.”

He beams for a second and then frowns to ask,

“What about Draco?”

“When all is said and done, he just wasn’t the one.”

His smile returns and you swear it’s brighter than the morning sun. He reaches over and holds your hand and tells you, “I don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say those words.”

He pulls you over the table knocking over the goblet and food that had appeared and pecks you on the lips.

“What about Daphne? Aren’t you with her?”

“No, she just wasn’t the one.”

You've reached this far! Here's a bonus:

It was Christmas day and you were in the great hall ready for the feast, dressed in a sweater Theo bought you so that you can match on this occasion. In one hand you have Theo and in the other a carefully wrapped present and you sat next in your self-assigned corner of the room.

"Let's pull a cracker!" You say eagerly.

And soon both of you adorn paper crowns on your head.

"Dinner doesn't start for another 15 minutes" He informs you.

You pout replying, "So why did you rush me out of my dorm so quickly?"

"So I can give you this." He places a fairly large box in front of you.

"Thank you, Teddy!" You tilt your head when you notice holes all around the box. "What's up with the holes?"

"Just open it." He excitedly insists.

"Okay okay. Thank you." You undo the ribbon and take off the lid. You squeal as you spot the kitten you had been eyeing at the store that evening of what you both have agreed to be your first date.

"I can't thank you enough! I love her so much." You carefully lift the kitten out of the box to cuddle her.

"Anything for you darling. What are you going to name her?"

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 I didn't plan to write it this long. I hope you didn't mind.

I welcome any feedback or criticism.

[fancyfeathers]

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Yandere Neuvillette x reader, songfic

part two to this post

There are two sides to this story and the next part will be written from Wriothesley’s darling’s perspective

“Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You listened your friend sing in the apartment above the shop you’ve been working at. You two were allowed to stay here as long as you two earned your share in the shop owner’s store, the shop owner was a kind old lady who was sympathetic to your situation. You were now run aways from you homeland, Fontaine who had made your way to the nation of Mondstadt in search of safety. Everyone was very kind, and you had already have made quick friends with many of the knights of the city and a strange bard who there was something off about but you couldn’t quite place it. 

“Can't take my charm

Can't take my humor

Can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumor”

When you left Fontaine you had to leave much behind, only a few articles of clothing, a keepsake or two, and of course your friend was able to grab her guitar. She now played it after a long day’s work, a harsh and proud song, not that she had much pride left, neither of you did not after what happened. She tried for crimes she didn’t commit, a set up, and you jumping in after her, breaking her out before she was to be sent away. You did what you had to in order to survive and if that means leaving your entire lives behind, so be it.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You stood up from your chair at the dining table and walked over to your friend you sat in the windowsill, singing and playing her guitar. The windowsill was wide enough for you both to sit down in it, you didn’t say anything and neither did she, only sang while you watched the streets of Mondstadt from the window as the sun set.

“Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me

Think again, if that's your goal”

You were in trouble with the law in Fontaine and here in Mondstadt perhaps illegally, neither of you really knew but you did know if that was the case surely Neuvillette and or Wriothesley would have tried something by now but everything was uncomfortably quiet, not even a peep from Fontaine. The silence was becoming unbearable but it was moments like this, sitting in the window with your friend that kept you sane. It felt like old times, just in a new home.

“Can't take my sass

Can't take my talking

You can kiss my ass

Then keep on walking”

Then there was a knock at your door, the guitar stopped. You stood up and walked over to open the door, and it was the shop owner, looking a bit shook up. “There is someone here to see you.” When you heard this your heart sank, the way she spoke, it couldn’t be one of the.knights. When Kaeya or Lisa stopped by she was always so cheerful about it, but now she looked terrified. 

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You looked over at your friend and it looked like she was about to throw up, it seems you both knew who wished to see you two. Looking out the window you didn’t see any knights about the streets, keeping watch, so if you were to scream or something were to happen no one would hear you two. You stepped out of the room, leaving your friend in your guy’s apartment. You stepped down the stairs that lead into the shop on the first floor that was closed for the night. Sitting at one of the shop’s tables where you would serve coffee, tea, or some sort of sweet was a man. His gaze was fixed on the window that looked over the landscape of Mondstadt along with the setting sun. You slowly walked up to him, you were glad you couldn’t make eye contact because if you did you thought you may be sick. 

“Nothing you can take me from me is worth dirt

Take it, 'cause I'd give it free

It won't hurt”

You stood in silence for a long moment before you finally spoke up, venom in your words. “Little strange that you came all the way here, Supreme Justice.”

He hummed in response, his eyes still stuck to the window. “I would have come sooner but I simply did not have the available time in my schedule.” His eyes drifted from the window to you, a thin smile forming on his face. “You pulled a very bold move coming here. It took almost a month to pinpoint exactly where you were.”

“Let me guess, you’re here to arrest us?” You questioned but Neuvillette only shook his head. 

“No, not yet anyway. I have an offer, sit please.” He gestured to the seat across from him which you begrudgingly sat down in before he continued on. “If you come with me quietly, all charges of destruction of government property that you committed when breaking your friend out will be forgiven. You will be able to live a normal life as long as you don’t run off again. If you reject, I will have to file your crimes with the knights and you will eventually be returned to Fontaine and be placed under my custody as a criminal.”

“What of my friend? What will happen to her.” You asked, eyebrows knitted as you questioned him.

“There is nothing I can do about her, she has already been tried for her crimes, she will be taken to the Fortress of Meropide and placed under the custody of Wriothesley-“

“So either way she’s screwed over.” You huffed, your gaze going to look out the windows he was once looking at, refusing to make eye contact with the judge.

“The fortress is not absolutely horrible, besides I doubt that Wriothesley will treat her like the other criminals.”He spoke calmly like he has this entire conversation, meanwhile you could feel a fire brewing inside you.

You stood up from the table suddenly and gazed down at the Iudex of Fontaine with a look of pure anger. Before he could speak up to calm you down, reaching out to touch your hand, you swiftly stepped back, turning your back to him. “You may leave now, because my firm and final answer is no.” You made your way to the staircase and spoke without looking at him. “Have a safe trip back to Fontaine, alone.”

You left him sitting alone in the silence. Neuvillette sat for a long moment before reaching for his cane and his bag he brought with him. He reached into his bag and took out two files, seemed like he had a place he needed to stop by before leaving the city.  Meanwhile you and your friend had to hit the road again and fast before you were wanted here as well, so much for the city of freedom.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

[nrdmssgs]

Spiraling

Masterlist Part 2 (in case you need a happy ending)

Very mild angst Pairing: Ghost x you TW: no Summary: Ghost understanding, something very important just slipped through his fingers. AN: this is kinda sorta songfic. Here is the inspiration.

The worst part is that Ghost can't even get mad at you. He was never there to show you true love, you were never there to break his heart. There were no promises, no occasional touches or stolen glances. There were these two evenings: each beautiful in its own way.

On the first one, the squad was resting after a successful operation, waiting for a transport to pick them up. A large group of soldiers gathered around you and Ghost came closer to find out what was going on. The southern sky was strewn with large, bright stars. Not a single cloud hovered over the desert, so it was a perfect opportunity for stargazing. Time to time you raised you hand up, searched for a next constellation and did this strange, unpractical move: you pointed on the constellation, drawing an invisible line between stars and then pretended to grab it. Ghosts mind blurted out some jibe about you obviously being too short to grab a star. So he sat on the ground behind others, to say it out loud, when you pause. Only to find himself alone on the ground, staring up at the sky. "Lieutenant? Ghost?" Your voice brought him back to reality. "Our heli is here. Are you alright?" He nodded and was ready to stand up, when you offered him a hand. He reached out automatically and you grabbed his hand. It was almost pointless since you were much smaller, but still you helped him. Grabbing his hand like one of those stars, you'd never reach.

The other evening happened much later. Ghost could say, he got used to seeing you around. There were still no chats outside work topics, no interactions at all as soon as any of you was off to home. It was the way it was supposed to be: clean and professional. Ghost was in his office tending to paper work, when you knocked and entered. "Lieutenant, I wanted to let you know, I'll be spending the next few months away from this base. Volunteered to train international corps." Ghost nodded, not even raising eyes from his papers. "There is one more thing. I like working with you and plan to keep it on. But lately I've felt distracted, when you are around." His hand froze, not even finishing signing the last form. That sounded not good. So he finally looked up on you, only to find your absolutely peaceful smiling face. "Don't worry, I won't let it grow. We are all adults here, and I am planing to work here, not search for any kind of informal bonds. That's why I decided to take this job. Just wanted to be honest, ok?" Ghost nodded again, much slower this time. "Ok. Now go show them, how it's done." You left his office, and he tried to remember, where was he. But after a few attempts he understood, it was utterly pointless: his mind was racing somewhere. And that rush felt easy, even joyful. It was a good thing, you two were colleagues and there always was this formal barrier between you. But it was also a good thing, you were so mature and honest. It made him feel safe. His borders were secure. Somewhere deep inside, he was smiling.

Two evenings, they weren't even filled with anything special. So why the hell he felt as if a white-hot sting was deepening into his stomach, when in a few months he got a short message from you.

"The problem is dealt with. I'll be staying here for a little longer. Staying frosty."

You come back in almost half a year. Calm, polite, effective and professional - Ghost couldn't wish for a better squadmate. He finds himself observing you from afar. In theory, he must like, what he not even sees, but rather feels: you are at peace, you are over this. But a traitorous voice somewhere deep inside chuckles, "That easy, really? A few months to erase me, a few more - to consolidate success - and that's it?"

"It's good to be back, Lieutenant." You give his hand a firm, short shake.

"You aren't back," hisses something from the back of his mind, but Ghost only scoffs at it.

Too little too late, Riley.

That day, he finishes paperwork earlier and locks in his room. He sinks on his bed and watches evening lights slowly crawling across the ceiling. Simons' mind begins to spiral as he lays there, heartbroken over a love that never even happened.

[waayfo]

bluelock boys describe their feelings for you through songs !!

## 💬💬. . . characters list : nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, michael kaiser x reader

Tw : contain spoiler(s) for the manga, ooc, angst (for some character), fluff, songfic, lots of "i love you"

## 🎏 . . . kaizen 's notes : hii I ended up making something longer, but I felt cringe reading it. I'm so afraid of your response on this (⁠ ⁠T⁠_⁠T⁠)

You know I'll do anything you ask me to

But oh my God, I think I'm in love with you

— (Sofia - clairo) Mikage Reo

You always loved his bright purple eyes always looking at you gently. You can see how much he loves you just by looking into his eyes when your eyes meet. His bright purple eyes always stare at you with awe, love, and happiness.

Because of his love for you that turned him into a fool, he always does and gets whatever you want– if he can do it. He just doesn't want you to leave him, so he always hugs you tightly, and kiss your forehead when you hug. Sometimes sinking his head into your neck and enjoying every moment spent together.

Every day, nagi have to hear reo talk about you; how beautiful you are today and every day, especially when you smile, and the various compliments that reo gave about you that made him fall in love with you again and again. Reo will not get tired of looking at you even though he has done it many times. Because for him, your happiness is everything.

You know you make my world light up

When I was down, when I was hurt

You came to lift me up

— (Hymn for the Weekend - Coldplay) Itoshi Sae

"Thank you for always being with me," is the sentence he wants to say to you many times every time you encourage him and spend time with him. But his ego and prestige are too high to say it, so he never said it. But he always held your hand tightly and looked at you gently when you did that, as if he was saying thank you to you.

Even though he was cold to you sometimes, you always patient with him and asked, "are you okay? is there anything I can help you with?". He is always haunted by guilt, doesn't know how to repay your kindness when all he does is hurt and burden you. But you always say it's okay. He couldn't help but hug you tightly when you answered like that. In his deepest heart, he feels happy and relieved to be with you.

Oh, Ophelia You've been on my mind girl like a drug Oh, Ophelia Heaven help a fool who falls in love

— (Ophelia - The Lumineers ) Nagi Seishiro

No one thinks, not even his teammates, that nagi is always thinking about someone. Every time he daydreams or just stare down, he always thinks about you; what are you doing today, did you miss him, did you have a good day, did you like your menu today, did you meet new people. All those things keep running through his mind, making him always think of you.

Somehow sometimes every time he sleeps, he dreams about you. Either when you spend time cuddling and playing games, or when you both feel the sweet memories of school. Making him think he has turned into a fool who is crazy about love and the one person who made him that way. But it doesn't matter to him, because you always manage to keep him motivated to keep going to school.

Just a second we're not broken just bent, and we can learn to love again

— (Just Give Me a Reason - P!NK) Michael Kaiser

Countless times he has broken your heart, but you can still accept and forgive him–at least just this last time. He also said the same reason to you many times, never remembering your tears every time he hurt you. Never tried to understand you even once. Never remember your struggle to make him really love you. Although in the end all of it was destroyed by himself. He betrayed you again and again. While you can only survive with the sweet memories that have passed.

But this time, he realized all his mistakes. This time– for the first time, he is begging you to stay. For the first time too, he tries to understand you, and promise you that he will fix this relationship from the start, so you don't have to be hurt and tired anymore. For the first time, he always hugs you tightly and whispers, "I'm sorry. I love you."

Maybe this will be the last time you give him a chance, before you leave him, leaving all the memories that have passed. Let him be able to realize his mistake, so that when he is in a relationship with someone again, that person will not end up the same as you.

And you know, you know I love you so

And you know, for you, I'd bleed myself dry For you, I'd bleed myself dry

— (Yellow - Coldplay) Isagi Yoichi

Everyone knows that he is an ambitious person, trying his hardest to achieve his dreams. The same goes for his love for you. He's trying to do whatever it takes to keep you together with him. He will not hesitate to repeatedly say, "I love you". He always loved when you held hands, he felt warm, his stomach was filled with butterflies. Even though his ears are a little red. He has always liked touching you without sexual intent. Don't be surprised if he suddenly hugs you or holds your hand. He did it because he missed you.

I just can't take my eyes off you Tell me anything you wanna do

— (Eyes Off You - PRETTYMUCH) Bachira Meguru

In his heart, he always screams loudly every time your eyes meet. His heart was beating fast and it felt like a warm summer. His hands always move on their own to hug you subconsciously. His always shining eyes shine even more when he sees your presence. Not a few times he tells his friends about you until they get tired of hearing it, but from there they can conclude that he really loves you.

Tell me pretty lies Look me in the face Tell me that you love me Even if it's fake

— (idfc - blackbear) Itoshi Rin

He always feels he can't be the best for you. He didn't want to lose the person he loved again. It's okay for him if you don't really love him, as long as you are by his side, he can forget all that bitter reality. You can immediately erase all the bad thoughts running through his mind just by saying, "I love you." Even if it was a lie, at least he could forget all the bad thougts for a while.

You can tell hundreds or even thousands of lies to him, he didn't mind. Even if you don't actually love him, even if you always hug him and whisper that all that is not a lie, even though you always other people about him and always exclaim, "that cool person is my boyfriend!". Even though you have been with him patiently until now. Those bad thoughts still haunt him, but he still wants the phrase "I love you" to always come out of your mouth. Maybe he still can't trust you completely.

And I will love you, baby, always And I'll be there forever and a day, always I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine 'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme

— (Always - Bon Jovi) Chigiri Hyoma

He loves it when he hugs you by the waist, letting everyone know that you are his. He loves kissing your face; his favorite parts are lips and cheeks. No matter how many times he did it, his stomach filled with thousands of butterflies, his body felt warm, his face would be a little red with embarrassment. Not only that, he likes every time you stand on tiptoe to reach his face, then give a short kiss in the face area, then say, "I love you." Oh you could have killed him by doing that many times.

He always smiled subconsciously when recalling those memories. His hand is raised to hold the part that you often kiss. While his heart wants to stay and spend time with you for a very long time– if possible and allowed, forever.