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aphroditeinthesea · 21 days

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“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so�� faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace #jason grace one shot #jason grace headcanon #jason grace fanfic #jason grace x y/n #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #based on a taylor swift song #the tortured poets department

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avis-writeshq · 3 months

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your friendly reminder that spencer reid will listen to any music you want. if he’s in your car and you want to play taylor swift, he’ll listen to it with no complaints. if you want to listen to olivia rodrigo and blast it all over the house, he’ll turn it up even louder. if you want to listen to kpop music, he’ll translate them for you and tell you what they mean after.

he’s not going to hate on your music if you don’t hate on his.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #saw a post that basically said that spencer reid would hate taylor swift and never listen to it #i think that’s soul crushing when a lot of swifties love reid #i even wrote two full stories about him listening to taylor swift for reader #and another fic based on taylor swift songs #he’s a fictional character #rambles !!

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film-bro-hotch · 10 months

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I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)

I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.

Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible

WC: 2k

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.

It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?

Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case.

“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?” “Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it.

An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.

Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.

No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.

The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting?

That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin.

When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.

“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.

After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie.

That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.

It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?” “I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.

Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you.

“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”

“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought.

“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”

“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits.

“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back.

“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.

The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.

On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.

“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.

You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you.

He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.

“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.

Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response.

You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life.

“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.

Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”

You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.

Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”

He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.”

You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #song fic #based on a taylor swift song #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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starsval · 10 months

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i can see you

barty crouch jr x reader

summary: academic rivals to lovers with barty

word count: 2,5k

warnings: kissing, and idk, barty being barty ig, reader is pureblood

a/n: idk if i like this and i know that i don't like the ending but yeah

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watching you for ages And I spend my time trying not to feel it

you sense his gaze on you even before you can see him. you can feel how he watches you from the other side of the hallway. you can feel things that you shouldn't feel, especially when the cause of those feelings is barty crouch jr.

you know he's watching you. even with a girl under his shoulder. even when his friends are talking to him.

he's looking at you.

and you can feel as he practically pushes you when he brushes past you. giving you not more than a glare.

but the truth is, that he can feel you too. and maybe it's because he's been watching you for ages, but he's convinced himself that it's because you feel the same.

he can see as you watch him from your table in the library. even when there's a good looking guy talking to you, he knows that you're watching him. and that's the reason for much of his smirks.

But what would you do if I went to touch ya now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a So-o-ound?

neither of you know how this happened. how a discussion about a grade turned into this.

"can you just shut up?" barty says, passing one of his hands through his hair.

"oh, so when you do better you get to laugh at me, but when i do i can't?" you question with a chuckle.

"no you can't"

"you don't tell me what to do barty" you roll your eyes and you're about to turn around, but the way you said his name changed something in him.

"what would you do if i went to touch you now?" you freeze at his words.

"you really can't stand getting a lower grade than me, do you?" you back up as he gets closer, until you have nowhere to go.

"i don't, i really don't" he caresses your cheek. "but isn't this exciting? i know you can feel it" his hand goes down and now he's stroking your neck. "they'll never find us out"

"wha-" you immediately shut up when you hear voices behind you, and that's when you realise that you ended up in some abandoned classroom. "we can't make a sound"

you tell him and then you're kissing him.

'Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew That I can see you?

you're practically sure he's waiting for you down the hallway. with a new girl under his arms but it's still you he's looking for.

he brushes past you again, except this time his hand finds yours, but his gaze doesn't.

you're also practically sure that he's getting closer to you at lunch. because a few days ago you couldn't even see him, but now? you can't eat without listening to his voice or feeling his eyes on you.

And we kept everything professional But something’s changed, it's something I, I like They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best if we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait till ya see half the things that haven't happened yet

yet nothing really changed. you still glare at each other when the teachers are passing the grades. he still tells you that you have a shoulder to cry if you need one, darling when you get a lower grade. you still put your middle finger up at him when he flirts with you.

but something actually changed, something you like. because when class is over, you don't go to your room or to the library to study. instead, you go to a certain abandoned classroom. you go find a certain boy who claims he hates you.

"you still mad that i did better than you?" barty's already there, sitting on a table as you get closer to him.

"shut up" you know he won't shut up just with your words, so you do it with your lips. his hands go to your hair, and yours to the back of his neck.

"we have to find somewhere else, my friends are getting suspicious" he tells you, and the look on your face immediately tells him you're up to no good.

"we can go to my room" you suggest, shrugging.

"what?" he asks, knowing how risky it is.

"we can do it, no one really walks though this halls, we just have to move fast and keep quiet"

and that's what you do. until you find yourselves in the calm of your room.

But what would you do if I went to touch ya now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a So-o-ound?

he knows it’s risky, he knows that people will see this and won’t think of the playful flirting he always does, he knows that he’s too close to you. but he also knows that that guy was flirting with you, and that it bothered him more than it should.

“what would you do if i went to touch you now?” he feels your hand on his chest, pushing him off, but he grabs one of your wrists and gets closer to you to whisper something in your ear. “what would you do if they never found us out?”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you get away from him and walk out of the party you just were in, away from the guy who was flirting with you, away from everyone. but not from barty, because you know that he’s going to wait at least five minutes and go find you.

“i’m sorry” he doesn’t even say hello when he finds you in the astronomy tower.

“you’re sorry? perfect, 'cause that fixes everything” you scoff, looking at the stars above you.

“he was flirting with you” he excuses himself.

“so that’s why you threw yourself at me like a toxic boyfriend?”

“i’m not toxic?” he actually looks offended when he talks.

“and you’re not my boyfriend either” he looks away from you.

"i know" he stays quiet for a moment, but there's this feeling in him that he can't let go of. "but he was flirting with you. and i know that everyone thinks we hate each other. we might even actually hate each other. but he was looking at you like you were nothing but a toy"

"what if i was flirting back?" you questions, looking at him.

"you weren't" he assures, meeting your gaze.

"how would you know" you chuckle.

"because i know how you look like when you flirt, i know how you lick your lips before saying something that will make the other person want to kiss you. i know how you tilt your head. how you stare at their eyes, then lips and then eyes again"

"congratulations, you know how i flirt, that still doesn't give you any right to do that"

"i know, i'm sorry" you sigh, knowing there's no use.

"it's okay. it's just that, people are gonna notice, you know? it's suspicious"

"and would that be such a bad thing?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"yes it would, our families would kill us"

he doesn't say anything, because he knows it's true.

"so, everything's fine between us?" he asks.

"yes"

"are you sure?" you know that he won't believe your words, so you just grab his face and kiss him. and maybe you kiss him because of the family thing. because you want to tell him that you'll be fine even when you don't believe it.

'Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me What would you do, baby, if you only knew

you know he's waiting for you outside the great hall, and you know he's pissed. you know he was staring as that girl flirted with you. you know he was staring as you touched her arm.

and you know that it's going to be fun when you find him at the end of an abandoned hall.

"hi bar-" you don't get to finish, because as soon as you get close to him, your back is against the wall.

he's kissing you. and you can barely breathe. and he's not stopping. he's kissing your lips, your neck, and he's going lower when he suddenly pulls away.

"what would you do, baby, if you only knew?" his hands are on the wall, on both sides of your head.

"if i only knew what?" you frown, not ignoring the pet name.

"i know what you're doing" he chuckles, because he really knows.

"what am i doing?"

"touching her arm like that? knowing that i was watching" he strokes your cheek, and you immediately go back to how this started. weeks ago after a stupid test.

"maybe i like her?" you tell him, even though both of you know it's not true.

"yeah sure" he grabs your jaw, and then he's kissing you again.

That I can see you? Throw your jacket on the floor I could see you, make me want you even more And what would you do, baby, if you only knew That I can see you?

you know you shouldn't be doing this. you shouldn't be dragging him to your room. not when any of your friends could see you. not when anyone could be in the common room and see you as you lead him to your room.

but you saw him at the party, his jacket, his hair, his face. and you knew that what people think is fake flirting wouldn't be enough.

you just wish that people don't get suspicious when you both disappeared.

"what's happening?" he says in between kisses. because you practically threw yourself at him as soon as you entered your room.

"nothing" you assure him, pulling away to breathe.

"this looks like something" you stare at him as he takes his jacket off. and suddenly it's in the floor. and suddenly his hand is in the back of your neck, and the other is in your waist.

"you're making me want you even more" you whisper, and he smiles.

"good"

I can see you in your suit and your necktie Pass me a note saying: Meet me tonight Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission Hide away and I will start behaving myself

you knew he was going to the party. you just didn't expect him to be in a suit and necktie. although it makes sense. it's a pureblood party after all.

and you know you can't talk to him like you'd do in a hogwarts party, so you have to settle for just brushing past him.

and it’s like the fifth time you’ve done that when you feel him passing you a note, when you open it, you smile when you see what it says meet my at midnight - the hottest person here(at the furthest balcony btw).

once it's midnight and your family is drunk enough, you slip away and slowly walk to the balcony, where barty is already waiting.

"i thought it was supposed to be the hottest person? why are you here?" you joke as you walk to stand in front of him.

"you're here, so i guess i'm still right" you laugh, and he puts his hands on your waist. "hi"

"hi" you smile at each other.

"do you ever think about, not hiding?" he asks.

"barty" you tell him, glaring at him.

"i know, i know, our families, yeah. but, at this point you're an addiction and i don't want to see you like you're a fucking secret mission" he puts his forehead on yours, closing his eyes.

"i'm sorry… but, you know what will happen. we can't risk that. besides, isn't it funny acting like we hate each other?" you pull away and smile at each other before you kiss him.

"yeah, especially when i get to flirt with you in front of everyone" he smirks, his hand on the back of your neck.

"they think that i get red from anger when i'm actually just blushing" you admit, before kissing him again.

I can see you waiting down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew

you know he's at the party, of course he is. you also know that you look good, and that the guy who's in front of you is flirting with you right know. but you're more focused on barty walking towards you.

he steps in front of you, completely blocking your view from the other guy, who gets long forgotten when barty puts one of his hands on your cheek.

"what are you doing?" you whisper, because you notice the people staring at you. and you notice how he looks at you. how he looks at your lips.

"please don't get mad at me" he whispers, and you don't have a chance to answer because he's kissing you. in front of everyone.

but you don't care. you just kiss him back, your hands on the back of his neck and your body leaning into him.

you know people are talking about you. they started when barty put his hand on your cheek. they definitely do when you two kiss. and they keep doing it when you grab his hand and lead him out of the party.

once you're at your room, you're against the wall.

"that was crazy, what were you thinking?" you try to argue, but he's kissing you again.

"we'll talk about that tomorrow"

That I could see you? Throw your jacket on the floor I could see you, make me want you even more And what would you do, baby, if you only knew That I can see you? Oh, I can see you

"it's not fair, how the fuck did you get that grade? we did the same" barty groans as he enters your room, throwing his jacket on the floor just to lie on your bed.

"i did better than you" you reply, lying next to him.

"yeah sure, whatever makes you sleep at night" you laugh as he moves to face you.

"i still got the better grade so… " you tease, smiling.

"i know it shouldn't, but that makes me want you even more" he confess, stroking your cheek.

"i know" you smile, looking at his eyes.

#the marauders era #the marauders #based on a taylor swift song #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch junior #barty x reader #barty crouch jr

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avalynlestrange · 10 months

Text

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

youtube

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.”

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.

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cowboybarzy · 1 year

Text

you’re losing me — mat barzal

ok so I definitely impulse wrote this after listening to the song one too many times! (still listening to it, still sobbing about it) definitely check it out although it may be a bit hard to find haha taylor pls just release it

spoiler: this is a HEA bc I am incapable of writing/reading sad endings. my life sucks enough, my fictional world doesn’t need to either lol so not all aspects of the song are used/it’s not exactly the same as the song, it’s just inspired by it

word count: 3.9k warning: angsty, with hea

"I need a break."

"From what?"

"Us."

—————————

When you started dating your boyfriend Mat seven years ago you thought you were going to get married. Even with his busy schedule he was the most attentive, caring, and loving boyfriend you could have ever dreamed of. When he moved to New York, of course you were extremely happy for him. Playing in the NHL had been his dream since he was a kid, so you were very supportive, but you couldn't help but feel heartbroken over him moving across the country and leaving you. But ever since the day he landed in the city, he begged you to come live with him and eventually he convinced you. You transferred university to one in New York, lived in the dorms for a couple of years until Mat and you got an apartment together. You finished your undergraduate degree, then started and finished your masters. Mat had always been just as supportive of you as you of him. He made living away from your family easy. He made living easy. Date nights in all shapes and forms, luxurious vacations, and just him making you happy with all of his little quirks. Your relationship was something straight out of a movie. It was perfect. Until it wasn't.

You don't know when things began to change in your relationship, nothing really caused it, but one day you started feeling unhappy. Mat changed. Or maybe you did. But you weren't the same two people you once were. When you came home from work, you got a 'hello' and a kiss but the passion behind his eyes were gone. He barely asked you about your day anymore or told you about his. Just enough before you fell back into silence. You didn't used to mind the silence. Sitting comfortably in silence was a sign you truly felt at peace with a person, but when the silence got uncomfortable for you, you knew something was wrong. The amount of times you two went out alone decreased to the point where you could count on one hand the amount of dates you had been on in the past two months.

He just stopped making an effort and any effort you put into the relationship was rejected or gone unnoticed. Like making him dinner or doing his laundry and him not at least thanking you for it.

His love language was most definitely touch, but even that had slipped away day after day. He kissed you in the mornings, at night, and when either of you got home, but the spontaneous make out sessions or random quickies throughout the day were basically nonexistent anymore. You had sex after his games or when he got home from a roadie, but somehow that had started to feel like an effort.

You missed the old Mat that always had some part of his body touching yours. At dinner, sitting next to each other, he usually intertwined his pinky with yours, only breaking to use his knife. Or he always held your hand or had an arms wrapped around you when you were out of the house, like he was afraid to lose you. That stopped and now you were the one afraid that you had lost him.

You had just gotten too comfortable with each other. You knew each other so well you could anticipate what the other would say or feel that you didn't need to tell each other anymore. You still wanted to that, you were still interested in what he had to say, in hearing his voice, but after countless efforts being rejected, it was easier to say nothing.

The worst part was that you couldn't even blame his schedule and just wait for the season to end. It hadn't changed. You had made it work that past few years before, even with you being busy with school, so why now? You were starting to question your self worth, because what else could it be?

The last few months had been hell for you, silently and lonely suffering. Because every time you brought up the subject of your relationship, he said everything was fine and that we'd just hit a little rut that would resolve itself.

You wanted to believe him so badly. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay. You didn't want to throw the last seven years away. You had worked so hard to be here. You had experienced so much together, made so many memories. Was it really worth throwing it all away?

But you were sick of waiting for it to stop. Sick of your efforts being lost. Sick of Mat not seeming to care. You hit your breaking point.

And that's how you found yourself on the verge of tears standing in front of Mat in your kitchen in which you had made so many beautiful memories. "I just can't sit around waiting for you do something anymore. I gave you so many chances for you to do something, say something, risk something for me, but you did nothing. You're losing me, Mat, you don't even seem to care."

He blinked. A blank expression on his face. Just like the last few months. Some part of you wasn't surprised, the other ripped your heart into shreds.

"I just– I need a break."

"From what?," he finally asked, already knowing the answer.

"From us." A tiny, very tiny, weight lifted off you when you said it out loud. You had been wanted to say it for months and although you weren't happy about the situation, you were proud of yourself that you did. "I'm going back to Seattle for a few months. I just need space from you right now."

"When? For how long?" That's probably the most he'd asked about you in a while.

"I haven't booked a flight yet, but probably tomorrow." He nodded, pressing his lips together. "At least until the end of your season. Until you have some free time to figure out if you still love me or not." You lips were shaking, tears threatening to flow freely. You didn't want to say it, but a part of you felt bitter.

"(Y/n)–"

"No!," you stopped him. You couldn't hear it. "If you tell me you love me right now I'll stay. And this wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. I'm weak for you, Mat. I'd do anything for you, but I don't feel that from you. So, please, just stop. I made up my mind. This has to happen. Maybe in a few months we can work it out, but right now I need space."

He gave you another nod then turned around and left. You heard him rustling around in your bedroom and a few minutes later your front door slammed shut. He was gone. A part of you was angry at him for not putting up a fight, but then again you had asked him not to. But just once, you wanted him not to listen to you and tell and show you how he felt. You guessed you had your answer.

The next few months were rough for you. A different kind than the few months before, but still difficult. You missed Mat terribly. Countless of times you came close to booking a flight back home to New York and burying your face in his chest. But it wasn't your turn this time. He had to fight for you.

But you missed him nonetheless. You had almost called him when Anthony got traded just a couple weeks after you left, but you didn't. Then again when not shortly after he got hurt in a game against Boston. You wanted, but you didn't. Not until he did. But he never did.

It took a while, but you started to be able to breath again. You got a small job at a café, since you took a leave of absence from your big girl job in New York and still needed some money. You made some new friends, most of your old ones having moved away or gotten too out of touch with, and developed a new daily routine. You started feeling better, but the whole inside you was reserved for only Mat to fix and would probably take years to mend if he didn't make a move soon.

Weeks, then months went by and not a single word from Mat. You couldn't even see him on TV for his games (which you still watched) since he was injured and his social media was a bust too. Your friends and his teammates (also your friends) checked in every once in a while, asking how you were and telling you how miserable Mat was. But unless you saw that for yourself, you couldn't really believe it.

Then, by some miracle the Islanders made it to the playoffs and Mat was scheduled to be back to playing. You tuned in, but almost had to turn it back off when you saw his face. His beautiful face that you loved to kiss and touch and simply just look at. Now though, it was riddled with frown marks, dark under eye circles and his unshaven scruff that took you years to like. He fought more on the ice, too. He rarely took penalties for righting but during these next few games he collected them like trophies. He was short and snippy in his post game interviews, again, something usually unlike him. He was miserable, you could tell. But then why had he not made an effort to get you back? Had you pushed him too far away when you left him? Was that the wrong thing to do?

You fought with yourself day and night. You wanted to go back to him and fight for him, but then you remembered that you did. You did fight for him countless of times. In your head you used to screamed at him to do something, say something, risk something, but he never did. So stayed put, waiting for his season to end and see what he would do.

A couple weeks later, your parents were out for dinner, you were home watching a movie with a big glass of wine when the doorbell rang. You didn't feel like answering, but who rang the doorbell after six pm? Your ex boyfriend who just showed up without a warning from across the country did. Or current boyfriend?

He stood there, outside your door with his grown out hair, unshaven beard, and sad look on his face. You started at him, processing. He was here.

"Mat? What–"

"No! It's my turn to talk now! (Y/n), you left. You just fucking left me without a warning." When you opened your mouth to protest, he held up his hand silencing you. "I know, I probably should have seen it coming, but you left! That hurt like hell."

He rubbed his face with his hands, also combing through his hairs before he went on. "I don't know what happened. I swear. I felt something change, yeah, but I just got comfortable. I didn't fall out of love with you. Never. And I'm sorry. I just assumed you felt the same and I shouldn't have. I should have checked in more. I'm sorry for taking for granted what I had. You. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I totally understand if you're done with me, because no one should take you for granted. (Y/n), I love you and the way you care for people, for me. You light up any room you walk in, you make everyone smile, you're– god, you're so so beautiful."

He took a deep breath, fighting his tears. You had given up holding them back pretty much the second you opened the door. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. I've been such a jerk and I realize that and take full responsibility. These past few months have been hell for me without you there. Our apartment feels so cold without you. But it gave me some time to think about everything I fucked up and everything I will do better if you're willing to take me back. Please take me back, (y/n), I don't know how to live without you." He shook his head and tears away, collecting himself. "No, wait. I came here to apologize and give you time to decide whether you'll forgive me. The 'I want you back' speech will come later. If you'll hear it."

You were speechless. All these months, even before you left, that's what you had been hoping and begging for to hear. Why couldn't you speak? Or move?

Moments passed with the two of you just staring at each other. Mat hesitated to say more, but he couldn't read your face. Did you want to hear more or slap him in the face and tell him to leave? "Alright, uhm, I'm gonna go. Don't really know where, but I'm sure there's a hotel open around here." He got ahold of the suitcase next to him. "Uhm. I guess, text me? Or call? Whenever you're ready."

He waited a few more seconds for you to move, but when you didn't he slowly turned around and walked out of your driveway. Seeing his back turned, him walking away from you again when he had just come back made you snap out of it. "Maty!"

You sobbed running up to him and into his arms that had opened for you the second you yelled his name. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent while you clung to him. He held onto you just as desperately. His hand I'm your hair at the back of your head, the other around your waist holding you tight to his body. You felt like home again after months and months of searching for it. You heart expanded and pounded swiftly for him and him alone.

"Fuck, baby, I missed you so much." He had let you down, but now both of his hands held your cheeks as he looked at you. He dropped his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry."

You weren't ready to forgive him just yet, but you were so ready for him to kiss you. "Kiss me." And boy, did he. His mouth attacked yours with that intoxicating passion you had missed so much. Your tongues danced their dance without a hitch as he claimed you as his again.

You must have stood out there for minutes before breaking apart and coming up for air. You pulled him into the house, you had given your neighbors enough of a show. You settled on the couch, but put a pillow in between the two of you so you could talk things out before you did something you'd regret. That didn't stop him though from reaching his hand out to you. First, he took your hand then let it wander up to your face. "Come back home with me," he whispered. His sad green eyes were begging, too, a look that was very hard to resist.

"I want to," you whispered back, your voice starting to shake with emotion again. "But I can't just go back like nothing happened. Mat, those few months were extremely painful for me, I can't just ignore that. I'm so happy you realized it now, but I need to see some action. Your words, as happy as I am to hear them, aren't going to fix it alone."

He nodded, then dropped his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I'll fix this. I promise."

"We'll fix this. I don't want to throw us away, I want to work on this, but we need to do it slowly."

He nodded again and brushed his lips against your nose. "I have to go back to New York tomorrow. I have a few meetings and exit interviews and stuff, but after that I can come back here or you come back and I'll live with Wally or something for a while so we can work on this."

You nodded and threw the pillow separating you to the floor. You'll hash out the details later, but right now you just needed his big, warm hug. You sat like this for hours, not saying much, just enjoying each others company after you had been away from each other for so long.

The next day, he really did leave to go back to New York but he came back just a few days later. He stayed at a hotel, which did feel weird, but it was for the best. You needed to trust him again and doing it slowly would result in the best outcome. You spent a few hours together every day, catching up and talking about your plans to rebuild your relationship. At the end of the day, he'd bring you home and kiss you for a few minutes, then leave. Every time you wanted to run after him and go with him, but you could already feel the hole in your heart fixing itself, so you didn't and just trusted the process.

The day you told him you were ready to come back to New York was one you'd never forget. He spun you around in the middle of the park you had decided to have lunch at and kissed you like nobody was watching. It felt good, like the beginning again.

You celebrated his birthday a few days later and the day after he left to go visit his family in Vancouver for a few days while you tied up some loose ends here in Seattle. You'd meet back in New York in your apartment.

After an exhausting cross country flight, you were surprised Mat had sent an Uber to pick you from the airport instead of picking you up himself. But when you finally walked through your apartment door and the lights were off except for a few lamps and candles that you had carefully collected over the last few years, you knew why.

Mat, dressed nicely, stood in the middle of your living room surrounded by flowers and lit candles. Little Polaroids and pictures of the two of you were laying across the floor and furniture as well. You approached him slowly, taking his outstretched hand until you stood directly in front of him. His other hand slid into his pants pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box.

"I promise I'm not doing this out of desperation to get you back. I've had this ring since last year. I've been thinking about doing this for a long time. I've just been waiting for the right moment. I didn't want to propose during the season because I wanted to celebrate and do it right. And I had planned on taking you to Africa or the Maldives or somewhere more fun than our apartment but, you know... And I can't wait any longer." He smiled, then chuckled. "But, I'll still take you wherever you want to go."

"Maldives sound good." Why that was the only thing you were answering to you weren't sure, but with a chuckle he kept going.

"Good. And that probably also means you're not going to say no to my next question, but I'll ask anyway." He lowered down in front you onto one knee with his hand still holding onto your left. "(Y/n), for the past seven years, there is not one second that I haven't loved you. I know I haven't always shown that, but I promise you that won't happen again. You are the most important thing in the world to me and I promise there won't be another day where you will question that ever again. There's no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's you, babe, it's always been you. Will you marry me?"

You dropped down to your knees and grabbed his face to kiss him. "Yes," you repeated over and over again between kisses that tasted salty due to the tears running down your face. He got emotional, too, when he finally slid the ring on your finger. It was exactly the one you wanted and had dreamed of getting your entire life. It was perfect and so was he.

And he did keep his promise. Now and every single day there after.

*******

a few years later

"... the end."

"Again!"

"No, it's bed time now, honey."

"No! No sleep! One more book." Your three year old son jumped from your lap and dove towards the bookshelf to pick out another book to read. You checked your phone to see if your husband would be home any minute and in fact he would be, so you agreed to one more book.

"There you guys are." The door opened and Mat walked in with a big smile on his face.

"Daddy!" Your son, again, jumped from your lap into his fathers arms.

"Hi, buddy. I missed you." They hugged dramatically while your son told him all about his morning. Mat eventually put him down and took the couple steps need to get to you.

"Hi, princess. I missed you, too." He picked up your almost one year old daughter, who was also sitting in your lap, and hugged and kissed just as dramatically as he did with your son. Her sleepy eyes lit up with excitement and she filled the room with adorable baby giggles.

"What about me?," you pouted as you stood up.

"You have no idea." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and his lips gently touched yours, but with two children demanding your attention, the kiss was kept short.

You all hung out in the room for a bit, catching up on what Mat had missed while he was away for the last few days on his hockey road trip. Then you put your kids to bed, although putting an exited toddler to bed was no easy task, but eventually he did fall asleep.

"Hi," Mat whispered after you finally closed your sons bedroom door. You turned to face him and his messy hair made you smile. He aged like fine wine and you were thankful every day that he was yours.

"Hey." His hands took ahold of you and slowly pushed you against the hallway wall.

"I missed you," he whispered against your lips before claiming them. His hands roamed your body to find all the places to squeeze and touch while shoving his tongue in your mouth for an amazing kiss. How he went from fun goofy dad to horny teenage in a matter of seconds, you didn't understand, but you also didn't mind.

"Mat, not now. It's the middle of the afternoon," you said between kisses when you could tell this was going to be more than just a make out session.

"So?" He sucked on and kissed your neck. Yeah, what was the problem?

"So? They're both asleep. Hurry up and take me to bed." He didn't need to be told twice and a second later you were up in his arms and enjoying some much needed adult time.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #nhl fics #nhl imagine #mathew barzal #new york islanders #hockey fics #taylor swift #fics based on songs

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thatonebrazilian · 1 year

Text

Tolerate it

Summary: Everyone assumed you were fine, but what would they do if you just... broke free?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; undertones of Carol Danvers x Reader; Platonic Clint Barton x Reader; mentions of platonic Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Word count: Around 6K

TW: Deep angst, assassination attempt, betrayal of trust, suicidal thoughts, dealing with grief, self sacrifices.

A/N: I've been in the mood for angst, apparently. And I actually wasn't planning on writing anything (I shouldn't have, I was short for time as it was), but I was listening to Taytay and the fic just came to me. This will probably hurt a lot. Just hurt, not much comfort. Let there be pain.

You didn't know what you did wrong. You didn't know how you could fix this. You didn't know if it even could be fixed.

All you did, all you could do, was just sit there and watch her. She was reading, her head low, almost as if she was trying to keep a barrier between you two.

You sat in the corner of the room, watching her as she immersed herself in reports. The soft glow of the lamp cast a delicate halo around her, illuminating her beautiful, beautiful features. And yet, on that night, as on many before, the light seemed unable to reach her eyes.

You knew she was struggling, you were too. Everyone was. The Blip had taken many from their families, and the toll it took on those who stayed made many more lose their loved ones. The remaining Avengers lost Clint to his own darkness, and you lost the love of your life to what you could only describe as self-isolation.

Natasha had always had an unhealthy work-life balance, yet you always managed to counter that… But not anymore.

You had been together for what felt like an eternity, intertwined in a love that once knew no bounds. Now, though, there was a growing chasm separating the two of you. Natasha would only engage in conversations that revolved around missions and saving the world, and none of those came from you.

You used to be an Avenger too, with powers so astronomical that you never learned to control them. Bruce and Tony had to create some sort of inhibitor for you, lest you destroy the world by mistake.

You were probably one of the most powerful beings out there, but having no control whatsoever of your powers would only bring destruction, so you learned to live without them, the bracelet Tony made never leaving your wrist.

Being a somewhat powerless avenger was hard, but it was worth it. You saved people, you helped your friends.

But since the Blip things have changed.

After watching Wanda, one of your best friends, disappear right in front of your eyes; after seeing Clint's descent into darkness, you didn't feel like fighting anymore. So you decided to stop, you stopped so you could take care of yourself, take care of Natasha.

They were small, the things you did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. You'd wait by the door every day to greet her like a god-damned war hero, to show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work; you'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with your best cutlery; you even took upon painting as it seemed to ease your mind, and you'd use your best colors for her portraits (and there were many)... And yet, all Natasha gave back were lukewarm smiles; hums, and nods in acknowledgment of your attempts at conversation, and a lackluster "thanks".

She seemed to simply… Tolerate it.

You woke up in the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the moonlight shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your gaze fell upon Natasha, who lay beside you sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring you comfort.

But then, as you watched her, you noticed a subtle alteration in her breathing patterns, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. The steady rhythm became irregular, interrupted by moments of slightly shallower breaths and the briefest of pauses. There was a tension in her muscles that hadn't been there a second ago, almost as if a silent battle was being waged beneath her immaculate skin.

Natasha's eyes remained closed, her face serene as if she was lost in the most peaceful of dreams. But you knew the truth. She was pretending to be asleep. It felt like she didn't want to wake up beside you, like she simply tolerated your presence, but now even that tolerance seemed to be waning.

You wanted to reach out, to offer her solace, to take all the pain away, but the invisible barrier between you seemed impossible to break through. The distance that had grown between you now felt like a vast expanse, impossible to bridge. Her closed eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for space, for time, for avoidance.

Your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, your eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. You missed Clint, he'd know how to deal with this, he'd help her, but he'd help you, too. He'd hug you and tell you that everything was gonna be ok, he'd make sure it'd turn out that way. You missed Wanda, she'd take you out to eat ice cream, watch silly sitcoms with you, tell you the stupidest jokes just to see you crack a smile, she'd even threaten Natasha if she imagined the other redhead was hurting you in any way, shape or form.

You missed your life, your old life, before the Blip.

You turned away from her, not wanting her to see the tears in your eyes in case she opened hers.

As it turns out, the first time Natasha had a semblance of a real conversation with you in… You don't even know how many weeks… Was to ask you to join a team to take down whatever new evil had shown up.

You didn't even think twice about it, you took the job, you'd do anything to get closer to her again.

The team consisted of you, Steve, and Carol, who was visiting Earth. You didn't even know where you were headed or who you were facing, you just wanted to come back with an excuse to actually talk to your fianceé.

As you prepared to get into the jet, you saw her there, giving off directions before everyone boarded. You wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between respecting Natasha's need for distance and the overwhelming desire to break through the walls she had erected.

You felt a hand on your shoulder then, too warm to be Nat's, and you immediately felt the comfort she radiated.

Carol wasn't the most sentimental person, she wouldn't tell you that everything would be fine, she wouldn't offer comforting words, but she'd be there, a warm unwavering presence amidst the chaos (even if you rarely saw each other in person). She was the one good thing that the Blip brought you.

"Don't think too much about it," the blonde said, already knowing what was on your mind. "Keep your head in the game, I don't want you getting hurt out there, ok?"

You nodded while managing to keep to yourself the strong urge to hug her, to seek comfort in that friendly and familiar warmth of hers.

She nodded back, turned and boarded the jet, having already reviewed with Natasha her role in the mission.

You looked at your fianceé only to find her eyes already on you. You didn't think too much into it, though, she was probably just reviewing in her head the role you'd have for this mission.

Once again you found yourself wanting to go to her, but the fear of rejection loomed over you, a haunting presence that whispered of the potential pain that awaited if you ventured too close.

You turned away and stepped in the jet.

You stumbled into the Avengers' compound, a dull ache radiating from your wounded shoulder, the bloodstained clothes doing nothing to give you comfort.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and both you and Steve got shot. Multiple times.

As soon as you stepped through the quinjet's door Natasha was there, the worry in her eyes making you question if you were hallucinating. She walked to you, her eyes never leaving yours, it was almost as if you could feel her again, the old Natasha, your Natasha.

"What the fuck happened? You weren't supposed to get hurt!" she exclaimed in a mix of anger, desperation and concern. She ran her hands through her unkempt hair. It was an uncommon sight, indeed, to see her so disheveled.

You knew she had been worried, the moment Steve reported back you could hear her pacing back and forth through the comms, you just didn't know it would affect her this much. You didn't think she cared anymore.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Natasha took a hesitant step closer and reached for your hands. "You got me really worried." She said, her eyes looking deep into yours, her hands soothingly cold to the touch.

You could see she wanted to say something else, but almost as if she was waging a silent war against herself, she shook her head, released your hands and sighed. "Go to the med bay. I'll meet you there."

You nodded weakly, too tired from blood loss to argue. Too tired in general.

As you made your way to the medical facilities, the pain in your shoulder intensifying with each step, you couldn't help but think of all the times Clint saved your ass from stupid bullet wounds like these, or how Wanda would literally create a shield around you whenever you faced danger.

You missed them, you missed Wanda so much, and you couldn't help but wish it was you and not her. And Clint, god, you hated what he became, you hated the Ronin, you hated that he wasn't there to heal by your side, to heal with Natasha, but you still missed him so much.

As you entered the med bay, you were greeted by a warmth that made you question how she could have gotten there first.

"Bold move, jumping in front of a sea of bullets like that" Carol said, there was no warmth in her voice though. You closed your eyes.

"I couldn't let them shoot that child," you said, sitting on a cot and looking apologetically at her.

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning your wounded shoulder, the part of you that got the most hits, with a mix of worry and anger written across her face.

"So you just deemed your life less valuable than hers and decided to throw it away?" She clenched her fists.

"That's not it and you know it," you said in a small voice. It was worse, but no, she didn't know it. She didn't need to. You didn't want to burden her too.

Carol's eyes softened, she took a couple steps towards you and touched your uninjured shoulder. "I just worry about you, sweet girl." She said and sighed, "Look, I know you don't have much to live for right now, but you're one of my best friends, I wouldn't be able to deal with it if something ever happened to you. And by the looks of it neither would Natasha, despite all the shit she's been pulling."

It was amazing how Carol, just like Wanda before her, was able to fill you with lightness. With them, as well as with Clint, you felt cherished, cared for. You could never be more thankful for the blonde in front of you. Without Clint and Wanda here to support your near Natasha-less life, Carol was the one thing keeping you sane.

You just wished being sane was enough.

You managed a weak smile, though, and even if felt forced, it still seemed to have convinced Carol that you were ok. "I'll be fine, Carebear. Just a flesh wound. I know I haven't been in the field for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Carol fought off a smirk. "Promise me you won't pull shit like that again, at least".

You saluted her, a mocking smile on your face, despite the ache you felt inside. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

She chuckled and shook her head, "You're the worst".

"But you love it!" Your answering smile was more genuine this time.

Her smile grew bigger, and you wished you could see it in person more often.

"I actually do." She said, shaking her head once more and turning away to leave the med bay.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come to tend to you. There were many bullet wounds around your body, although most were superficial. The worst was indeed your shoulder, having been hit four times.

You bitterly wondered how you could still be alive with all of these bullet holes around your body.

The minutes passed by, and yet there was no sign of Natasha, so after all your wounds have been treated and dressed you decided to go look for the redhead.

It was a bad idea. As you located her, your heart sank. There she was, tending to Steve's wounds, her focus solely on him. Even though there was nothing romantic about the situation, the sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, longing, confusion. Betrayal. You wondered if there was something more between Natasha and Steve, a connection that surpassed friendship. You wondered why she would deem him deserving of having his wounds treated personally by her while you were sent to a nameless nurse.

Your mind raced, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you. Doubts crept in, and you questioned the very nature of your relationship with Natasha. Did she even love you still? Has she ever? Where was that woman who threw blankets over your barbed wire, leaving you just soft enough for all your other friends to approach? Why has she left you behind in her pursuit to build this new world instead of taking you along with her? The uncertainty gnawed at you, intensifying the ache in your shoulder. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, but now you were left begging for footnotes in the story of her life.

As you stood there, watching her tend to his injuries, a deep sense of loneliness washed over you. The weight of the lack of acknowledgment you've been getting from her grew heavier, casting a shadow over the bond you once shared. The pain in your shoulder felt insignificant compared to the ache in your soul.

At that moment, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You loved Natasha, you would probably love her till the end of your days, but you knew your love should be celebrated, and yet all she did was tolerate it.

You never thought about what she would do if you broke free, leaving the two of you in ruins. But that's what you did, you took the chains that bound you to Natasha and broke them.

You still longed for her, though, the neverending love you held for the woman felt like a dagger piercing your heart, a constant reminder of what you craved for, of what you once had. You wanted to remove it, to see it clatter to the ground as you bled out.

It was weird to gain the weight of her then lose it, but you needed to do it, you had to.

You were doing it for her as much as for yourself. Natasha had lost so, so much, but there was one person who could still come back, so you went to look for him, more in hopes of helping her than fulfilling your own desire of seeing him again.

Even if she didn't love you (which was the impression you got when you told her you'd be gone, looking for Clint, only to get a blank stare in response), you still loved her, you still wanted her to be as happy as she could, and you knew Clint was the person to make that happen, he was her best friend as much as he was yours.

You needed to help her heal somehow.

"She's been a mess since you left," Carol had said once during a video call, the vast expansion of the universe now looming right behind her, "don't ever tell her I said that, though." The grimace on her face told you she wasn't kidding.

"Steve's been trying to help more, even I am; I've been to earth since you left more times than I've been throughout my whole life. I'm afraid that if I stay gone too long, she won't be there when I come back… Since you left she barely takes care of herself. The place's a mess, she hasn't been eating much, and, again, don't ever tell her I said this, but I thought I'd never see her cry, and yet…"

You wondered if it had been all in your head, the way she seemed to avoid you, the way she seemed to take you for granted, the way she seemed to merely tolerate you.

In the midst of a turbulent storm of emotions, a newfound sense of urgency propelled your every step. You needed to find Clint, you needed to find him so you could go back to her, to see if she was really deteriorating that much, to ask her if it was all in your head, if you got it wrong somehow, if she actually loved you.

Time seemed to both crawl and fly, leaving you with moments of self-reflection in the solitude of your journey. Doubts and insecurities waged war within you, tearing at the fabric of your clarity. What if you discovered that Natasha's love had been genuine, but she had struggled to express it? What if she was simply too freshly traumatized to express it, and you had abandoned her at her worst moment?

You needed to go back to her, even if it was just to figure it out. But you wouldn't go back without Clint, you couldn't.

So you searched, and searched, and searched. And as you finally stood before Clint, his weathered face bearing the marks of his own battles, you found yourself engulfed in a deep ache. Two of the people you loved the most were immersed in pain, and you could do nothing to help.

"I can't believe you traveled so far, came all the way here for this," Clint spat, his voice filled with anger, his eyes filled with tears. "To ask me to come back so I can help her. Do you even worry about me? Did you ever stop to think that I lost my family? My wife's gone, Y/N! I lost my kids! Do you really think that I'm not dealing with my own shit right now?"

You shook your head, tears welled up in your eyes too, matching the anguish in your voice. "Fuck you, Clint! I'm not here just for her and you know that! You're my best friend, goddamnit, and you've been gone for years! I know you're hurting, but you gotta know that what you're doing is wrong, and it's not gonna bring Laura and the kids back." You shook your head, remembering the way the kids would all call you auntie Y/N/N. You sighed and shook your head in disappointment. "They would actually be ashamed of what you became."

You knew it was a low blow, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it

The moment he seemed to register those words, Clint's eyes became full of this sort of anger that you've never seen your friend display. But again, this wasn't Hawkeye, this was Ronin.

Clint advanced upon you with rage in his eyes, his hand went to your throat, a dagger suddenly pressing against your ribs.

"Take that back." He said through gritted teeth, and you felt your eyes filling with tears once again.

Of course he wasn't above hurting you like this. He, too, didn't care about your own pain.

You were tired, you were so fucking tired.

"Do it." You said, your voice devoid of emotions, the hollowness you now felt was all it conveyed. "It's not gonna make any difference if I'm gone, anyway."

You'd be just another death on his account, just a wisp of a memory in Natasha's mind.

Clint's brows furrowed, but his grip was unrelenting. You took your hands to his, the one holding the dagger, and pulled it up, so it wasn't resting above your ribs anymore, but right at your heart.

"Please," you said with a wavering voice, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to appeal no more to your friend, but to Ronin, "do it. Please."

The dagger clattered to the ground, Clint took a step away, looking at his hand as if it had personally offended him. He then looked at you, but you didn't meet his eyes, you were too absorbed looking at the dagger on the ground, feeling the brisk sense of freedom evading you as it finally stopped moving.

You then felt his arms around you, your head suddenly tucked into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding desperate "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating.

You shook your head, your own desperation making you cling to him "Why didn't you do it? Why couldn't you just kill me?!"

His arms tightened around you as you both fell to your knees.

"I'm sorry," he just repeated, "I'm sorry I took this path, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend."

You wished that he being sorry was enough.

When you came back, there was a talk about fucking time travel. The Ant-guy was back, and so was Tony, Thor, and even Bruce. Everything seemed to be falling into place, so why did you still feel so…. broken?

But, somehow, as you and Clint stepped foot inside the Avengers compound, the familiar surroundings embraced you like a long-lost home. The tension that has seemed to permeate your very bones during the journey began to ease, replaced by a cautious hope for what awaited you.

You knew things wouldn’t instantly fix themselves up; Natasha wouldn’t just come to you and apologize for all she’s done (no, that wasn’t like her at all); your heart wouldn’t suddenly be mended, even if she did; your mind wouldn't let you forget the pain, the deep ache the past five years inflicted upon you.

And yet, there was hope.

There was the possibility of bringing Wanda back, of having Carol around more often, of doing something good for humanity. Of making Natasha happy again.

The moment the doors opened you saw her. She was talking to the Ant-guy and to Bruce, her brows furrowed as she nodded along.

And then she turned her head and caught sight of you, and of who was by your side. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Clint standing there, and a glimmer of something flickered within them, something akin to hope, but also akin to sorrow. Without a second thought, she started walking in your direction, coming faster and faster until she was running.

When Natasha reached Clint, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long-awaited embrace. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks as she closed them.

There was a little lightness in your heart as you saw them hug, some sort of knowing that she'd be ok even if you weren't around anymore. She wouldn't starve herself, she wouldn't push everyone away, she wouldn't shut down. She'd survive, and then she'd move on.

In that moment, as Natasha clung to Clint, her teary eyes slowly opened. There, through the blur of her emotions, she looked right at you. And the gratitude that radiated from her gaze was palpable, as if a thousand unspoken words were contained within that single look.

Her hold on Clint loosened slightly as her eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a brief, intense moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time as the weight of her gaze met yours. It felt as if the universe held its very breath, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

You wished you could say you could feel her love through that gaze, but you didn't know if you could use that word to describe what Natasha felt for you. Maybe she regretted what she did; maybe you became her anchor, even if unbeknownst to you, and she felt like she needed you to function; maybe she felt like she owed you something for bringing Clint back. You didn't know what it was, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the word love would be the wrong one to describe her feelings for you. Gratitude, thankfulness, maybe, but not love.

You smiled a sad smile, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to the gratitude in her eyes.

Natasha furrowed her brows and pulled away from Clint as she saw you walking away from her, but before she could come after you, Clint caught her hand and walked towards the opposite direction. He wanted a conversation in private.

You just knew he was going to tear her a new one for what she did to you. During your journey back he had apologized more times than you could count, his words still engraved in your mind.

"I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust," he had vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll prove to you day after day that I care, that I value our friendship above all else. What happened the other day… it'll never happen again, I promise you that. I was too absorbed in my own pain, so much so that I hurt you, but I would never do that intentionally, Y/N. You're like a sister to me, I'd never willingly hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Maybe his love was real, but you didn't have it in yourself to just forgive and forget.

Maybe one day the gods would deem you worthy of love. True love, not the kind that hurts you.

"A soul for a soul" the Redskull said, turning the vast expense of cosmic beauty before you into something bleak, final. "You must sacrifice that which you love."

Your eyes wandered, drinking in the breathtaking scenery, the towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls; it seemed like a paradise carved from dreams.

But the words hanging in the air casted a somber shadow over the planet's beauty, and as you stood near its vibrant precipice, the weight of what had to be done pressed upon the three of you.

Destiny had brought you here, demanding a sacrifice.

It was a curse and a blessing all at once.

"If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead," Natasha stated, her voice tinged with determination, almost as if she was trying to keep herself strong.

Of course she'd want to be sacrificed, the selfless fool that she was.

Clint's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of conflict and resignation. "Then I guess we both know who it's got to be," he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. They didn't spare a single glance your way, it was almost as if they had mutually decided that you were to live.

A subtle sadness washed over Natasha's features as she nodded in agreement. "I guess we do."

You closed your eyes. You had been wanting this for so long, you had craved the peace I'd bring, you had fantasized about it, about closing your eyes and never opening them again.

And yet… you found yourself wanting to cling to life with an unwavering grip.

As Clint and Natasha looked at each other, you found yourself wanting to greet Laura, Lila, Coop and Nate when they came back, you found yourself wanting to have a nice day out with Yelena. You found yourself wanting to embrace Wanda and never let her go.

It hurt to know you wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha." Clint said then, his voice wavering slightly.

For a moment, Natasha's gaze lingered on Clint, her eyes reflecting the depth of her conviction. "For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing: get to right here," she confessed. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

She looked at you then, her eyes brimming with tears "I was so focused on it that I drove away the one person I had promised myself never to hurt.",

You couldn't look her in the eye, you couldn't let her see your decision through your gaze.

Clint's shoulders seemed to sag, you could see the self-blame he felt right through his eyes, even if they were focused on Nat. "And that's why it gotta be me. You spent all this time trying to help what was left of the world. Me… you know what I've done. You know what I've become." He shook his head, his eyes turning to you as well "If you haven't gotten to me, I'd still be killing an untold number of people without a care for who it'd hurt."

"Well," you said, shrugging, trying to lighten the mood a little "I don't judge people on their worst mistakes." There was no point in holding grudges anymore.

"Neither do I." Natasha said, looking at him. Her eyes turned to you then, full of sadness, longing , and regret. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You walked towards her and pulled her in by the hand, your forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, Nat. You've been forgiven since day one." You said.

Natasha's tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You saw from the corner of your eye Clint taking a step back, as if to go to the cliff. You extended your hand to him as well. He stopped in his tracks and took a couple steps in your direction, taking your hand in his.

He smiled a sad smile, his eyes red. "Tell my family I love them" he said, and tried to pull his hand away, but you gripped it with all the strength you had.

"Tell them yourself," Natasha said, pulling away from you as well.

You sighed, your eyes burning with unshed tears. You didn't want to die anymore. You wanted to live.

But you couldn't let them sacrifice themselves.

You ripped the bracelet Tony made from your wrist. It clattered on the ground. Natasha and Clint's eyes widened, almost as if they hadn't even thought of the possibility of you being the one to jump.

You felt an unbearable heat rising up from inside out, your lungs burned, your chest, your torso, your whole body.

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?!?" Natasha yelled out, trying to get to the bracelet on the floor, but the burning winds that seemed to suddenly emanate from you wouldn't let her get closer.

"Take care of each other. And of Wanda and Carol. That 's all I ask." You said, your voice no longer solely yours.

You saw a rising shadow on the ground, signaling the presence of wings on your back. Blood red wings engulfed in flames. The Phoenix's wings.

Clint was rooted to the ground, your power vicious enough to paralyze those of weaker minds.

Natasha, though? She was fighting to get to you, the winds clearly burning her skin, yet she didn't give up. You turned away from her, not wanting to see her struggle.

It was a short walk to the edge of the cliff, you didn't want to look back. If you said goodbye it'd make it feel more real. So you just jumped.

And then you felt her hand on your wrist, the searing heat making her skin burn, and yet, she didn't let go.

"No, please. Not you." She cried, and even with tear stained cheeks she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen "I can't lose you like this. The world can't lose you. You're the only one of us that really deserves to live life to its full potential."

And then, as if her touch made your power purr in her presence, Clint broke free, running to where you were dangling and taking your other wrist in his hands.

This was hurting them, both physically and mentally, you saw the skin on their hands blistering, you saw the redness in their arms, the tears in their eyes not just from the pain.

"Let me go," you said with a sad smile. They had their families, they had their jobs, their missions; their homes.

You had nothing, all you did was take up too much space or time. They deserved to live, even if you left them in ruins.

"It's not gonna work!" Natasha shouted in desperation, her expression one of pure anguish "I don't love you! It's not gonna work!"

You smiled sadly at her. She really didn't love you, did she? She just tolerated you.

"It 's ok, Natty. It'll work. You may not love me, but Clint does " you said, smiling at her through your own tears.

"Y/N, please, don't do this," Clint begged too, sobbing as he held onto you with all his strength.

"It's ok," you repeated, and if it was to calm them or yourself , you didn't know, "it's gonna be ok".

You used whatever little control you had over your powers to push them away. As your body tumbled to the ground the last thing you remembered was the way Natasha used to laugh at your jokes, enjoy your food, take you out on dates. The last thing you remembered was how she used to love your presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

When Natasha and Clint woke up not much later in a galaxy colored lake, she clutched the stone that had appeared in her hands, wishing with all her might that it turned out different, that the last words she said to you weren't "I don't love you."

She loved you. Always did. Always would.

Wanda sat in front of your gravestone, her hair disheveled, her eyes red shot, her cheeks tear stained. She hugged her knees as she sobbed, longing for the presence of who could no longer be by her side. She had lost her parents, then Pietro, Vision, and now you.

She sobbed more and more, the pitiful sound getting louder.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and she looked up to see red shot brown eyes.

Carol sat beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little.

She understood what Wanda was going through, she was grieving you as well, and even though Wanda and Vision were planning on starting a life together, the witch suspected the Captain wouldn't have said no if you'd asked the same thing from her. So she, too, lost her love, even if she never got the courage to confess it.

It was a hot day, the sunlight shone perpendicular through the clearing where your grave has been put, creating a magical scenery all around the place.

And yes, the day was hot, but was it supposed to be this hot?

Wanda shook her head, her brows starting to sweat.

And then the sunlight vanished, as if something gigantic was blocking its path. She and Carol looked up, but all they could see were the trees blocking the sky from view.

The animalistic cry they heard didn't come from the trees, though.

Neither did the blood red feather falling through the leaves, its tip engulfed in fire.

Wanda and Carol looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they smiled.

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous

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iheartmoons · 1 year

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the jegulus one shot is almost done!! yay!!!

#the marauders #jegulus #fic: you're losing me #based on the taylor swift song #taylor swift #james potter #regulus black #the slytherin skittles #or #the emeralds

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lilacfiresoul · 26 days

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rush, may 3 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 630 words

based off "so high school" by taylor swift from the tortured poets department! genuinely haven't been able to listen to anything else since it came out, and i HAD to write jegulus to it so <3

content warning for brief (but funny) mentions of the noble house of black's ... marriage system lmao

and !! some brief hot kissing at the end (nothing nsfw)

----

“Regulus. Kiss, marry, kill …” Dorcas glances around at the group, her eyes scanning over Lily, who’s curled up next to Pandora, Peter and Remus sitting together on the sofa, and coming to rest on Sirius on the floor at James’ side.

“Sirius.”

Immediately, Sirius starts laughing. James can't help but laugh too, watching as opposite him, on the other sofa with Evan and Barty, Regulus’ mouth drops open. “My brother?” he blurts out in disbelief.

Dorcas holds up a finger. “No, hold on, I’m not finished.”

Batting his eyelashes, Sirius makes kissy noises at Regulus, whose face twists into a disgusted expression that could curdle milk. “Come on, Reg. What’s a little bit of marriage between family? Not like it hasn’t happened before.”

Peter and Remus start giggling at this, and Sirius lolls his head back to grin at them. “What? I mean, I don’t think anyone’s married their brother before, but there’s always a first for everything. Toujours pur, right?"

“I will shove my wand down your throat,” Regulus threatens, pointing said wand at his brother. “I’ll kill you.”

“That’s not a very nice way to treat your brother and your husband.”

“I refuse to—”

“Oi!” Dorcas raises her voice to be heard, and the two of them reluctantly stop bickering. Regulus, with a scowl, leans back. “Kiss, marry, kill Sirius …” She swivels her finger around to point at Barty “Barty …” who smirks, and then, torn between picking either Lily or Pandora, who both freeze and look at her in anticipation, she flicks that finger at— “James.”

James blinks. He forces himself not to look in Regulus’ direction, trying hide his smile as a rush of embarrassment creeps in. Of course, Dorcas has no idea about them, but just the fact that she picked him for the game makes his stomach flutter a little bit.

Regulus is still scowling as he jabs his wand at Sirius. “Kill Sirius.”

“Oh, what?” Sirius protests, but he’s still laughing. “Reg, really? So you don’t want to kiss or marry me? I’m distraught.”

Ignoring him, Regulus continues, “Kiss Barty. And I guess …” He screws his nose up as if it’s hard for him to make the decision, but James knows it’s all for show. “Marry Potter?”

Looking up in surprise, James plays along. “Marry me? Thought you found me annoying?”

“I do.” He reaches for the firewhiskey bottle down by the side of the sofa. “But I’m not kissing or marrying my brother, and Barty and I have kissed before, so it won’t be much different. Plus, I can divorce you after.”

“Wow, I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be. Your ego is already big enough. I’m not trying to stroke it any further.”

Later that night, when James pulls away from Regulus’ lips, he asks as he catches his breath, “Marrying me and then divorcing me, are you, love?”

“What?” Regulus rolls his eyes. His hair is messy from where James has had his fingers in it. “Oh, stop it. It was a game and you know it. I would’ve picked you for all three if I could, but then that would’ve been too suspicious.”

“All three?” James hooks his fingers through the belt loops in Regulus’ trousers, pulling him closer and pressing lips to the underside of his jaw. “So you’d murder me, Reggie? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Mm, perhaps,” Regulus muses, tilting his head back so James’ mouth can move down his neck, his arms around James’ shoulders. “If it means no one else could have you, and I got to keep you forever, then yes.”

“You already kill me everyday just by existing,” James murmurs.

#frost's microfics #frost writing fluff again this is so not on brand for me #but i like writing fluff as much as i like writing angst actually #based on a taylor swift song #james potter and regulus black are so “so high school” by taylor swift i don't make the rules #kiss marry kill #the tortured poets department #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #james potter x regulus black #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #dorcas meadowes #starchaser #jegulus

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anonymityisfunwriter · 3 months

Text

Midnight Rain

“I broke his heart because he was nice. He was Sunshine, I was Midnight Rain…”

Request from ao3- "ok but imagine a grumpy/sunshine fic with sam but the reader is the grumpy one 🤷" For one of my fave readers, @/badasswithafatass I hope you enjoy! 💛

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader Sam Wilson Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

“You know, for a smart guy, you’re pretty fucking dense," Bucky mutters, taking another swig of his beer.

“Aw… you think I’m smart?” Sam sarcastically awes from the bar stool beside Bucky.

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “Do you honestly think she had any real interest in me?”

Bucky doesn't miss the tick in Sam's jaw at the mention of you. Months had passed since the last time Sam saw you, and he wasn’t too keen on remembering that dreaded last night. Just the memory of you leaning over the bar counter, hand resting on Bucky’s chest, whispering something in Bucky's ear, was enough to make Sam's stomach twist into a knot.

Even before that night, he could tell that you were pulling away from him, but there it was, that night, the final nail in the coffin. That was the last time he’d seen or heard from you. You walked out of his life without so much as a goodbye.

Sam rolls his shoulders back, his mouth twisting in distaste, “Sure seemed like it to me.”

“See? Dense,” Bucky declares, tipping his beer in Sam's direction.

“Alright, I’ll bite. How does any of that make me dense?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Are you going to keep insulting me or are you going to actually explain?”

“Sam, she’s a spy, an assassin," Bucky explains like it should be obvious. "She knew you were standing there. She knew you were watching.”

"So maybe she wanted to make a point. It’s not like she was one for talking or communicating, maybe that was her way of letting me know how she actually felt. Trust me, I got the message loud and clear. That doesn’t make me dense."

"Sam..." Bucky takes a long breath. "We're a lot alike, me and her. And people like us, we cut and run, it's what we do. We don't wait for things to go bad, we live with the expectation that things will always go bad."

Sam tosses the rest of his whiskey back, flagging down the bartender for another one. "That's a depressing way to live."

“It keeps us alive.”

“We weren’t on a battlefield!" Sam spits through gritted teeth. "We were done with the fight, remember? We won, for Christ’s sake!”

“And where did that leave her, Sam? With a conditional pardon? People watching us 24/7?”

“With me!” Sam snaps, slamming his glass down on the bar. “It left her with me. We were good, Bucky! We were happy together. At least, I thought we were happy together. I even- I told her that after everything, that I would take her back home, meet my family, maybe settle down a little.”

"And while you're thinking about taking her home to meet your family, she's probably thinking how a family like yours is going to react to you bringing an actual assassin home."

"I... didn't think about it like that,” Sam confesses, faltering for a moment. He shakes his head. No. He refuses to accept that. It didn't excuse that he'd found you flirting with his best friend. It didn't change that you told him he meant nothing to you. “Because I don't think about her like that. And you know what? She could've talked to me, she could've told me she felt like that, Bucky, but she didn't."

"Sam, can I be honest?"

"Shoot."

"I don't think you two will ever work."

"That's a shitty thing to say to me," Sam spits.

"I don't," Bucky admits with a languid shrug. "Honest truth, I don't see it."

"You don't have to see it, I do,” Sam firmly states. “I see it working out."

Bucky claps a hand on Sam's shoulder with a tight lipped smile, "That's my point, Sam. That's the difference between you and us. You, you live for the hope of it all. She doesn't know how to do that. I don't know how to do that. We're broken, haunted people, Sam. We hurt people that get too close."

"You're wrong."

"Why else-"

"Because she was bored!" Sam angrily shouts, not caring at the stares his outburst brings. "She only wanted me because I was there."

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Yes. I do believe that,” Sam hisses. “Unlike you guys, I believe the words that come out of people’s mouth. She was bored... She was bored and I was there.”

Bucky takes a long pull from his beer, rising from his seat with a defeated sigh. He turns to Sam to offer one last piece of insight, “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t go on the run with someone for two years because I was bored. Not unless I really gave a shit about them. Not unless I loved them, like really loved them.”

"Do you mean that?" Sam asks over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I mean that."

3 Years Earlier - Somewhere in Scotland

“Just let me do the talking, okay?”

Sam raises up his hands, “No arguments from me.”

The doorknob rattles for a moment, opening just enough for you to stand before them. You look at them and immediately try to snap the door shut, “No.”

Nat extends out her hand to stop the door from swinging shut. “Just hear us-“

“No.”

"You don't even know why we're here," Nat argues. “It’s important. Please.”

You relent, allowing the door to fling open. Standing tall in the doorway, your eyes rake over each of them, “Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov or whatever name you’re going by now, and Sam Wilson, all in the flesh, all the most wanted fugitives on Earth. So I don’t care how important it is, my answer is no.”

Sam’s eyes comically widen, his voice taking a slightly bewildered, high pitched tone, “How did - Do you happen to know the names of all strangers that show up at your door?”

Your eyes dart over to Sam with a grimace, “Strangers that show up at my door end up dead. Consider yourself lucky.”

“I want you to know I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” Sam quips, placing his hand over his heart.

“Don’t worry, Sam," Natasha smirks over her shoulder. "She’s more bark than bite. And this is me calling in a favor.”

Your eyes narrow at Natasha, "Which favor?"

"Budapest."

Your mouth narrows into a thin line as you glare at her. You hated that favor.

You look back at the three of them. Even dressed in street clothes they all stuck out like sore thumbs. They’re all disheveled, clearly exhausted, and you did owe Natasha. You convince yourself that there is no good in this deed, it’s just a repayment. Even as your eyes linger back to Sam for a second too long. You tell yourself you don't care what happens to any of them. It's just paying a debt. “Fine. Just keep me out of it.”

Natasha nods, offering a small grateful smile, “Thank you.”

You turn on your heels without another word, striding down to your room. You slam your bedroom door shut, leaving the others on their own.

“It was nice meeting you,” Sam calls after you.

You don’t bother to reply.

After a few hours, the sun sets and your safe house returns back to its normal quiet state except for the soft snores of Steve Rogers in your spare bedroom. You’re certain that they’ve all gone off to get some rest. That is, everyone, except Sam Wilson.

“Have a good nap?” Sam greets you, sitting on the small couch in the middle of your living room.

Your eyes snap over to Sam, lightly scoffing, “Actually, I was avoiding you.”

Your brutal honestly doesn’t phase Sam. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he playfully tugs on the collar of his t-shirt, “I tend to have that effect on the ladies… That sounded better in my head.”

“For you and me both,” you quip.

“You know, you’re kind of a jackass.”

“I know. Thanks.” That's the only conversation you plan on having with Sam Wilson. You continue walking to the kitchen without saying anything else.

"So how long have you and Nat been friends?" Sam asks, trailing you as you walk to your kitchen, clearly not taking the hint that you don't want to talk to him.

You scoff over your shoulder, "Who said we were friends?"

"So you're not friends? Because the whole letting us hide out here, housing us, letting us eat your food, not turning us in, sorta gave me a different idea."

"We're not friends."

In truth, your relationship to Natasha was much more complex than that. At one point, you were like sisters. In the Red Room, she was all you had. Your only friend. Your confidante. And still, you could never quite live up to her, always second to her. You knew all her secrets, all the blood spilt, all the skeletons in her closet, and she knew all of yours.

The night before your graduation, you ran. As far away and as quickly as your legs could carry you.

You were never quite sure if it was irony or simply Dreykov’s own cruelty, but she was the one tasked to find you and collect you. You never stood much of a chance against the person that spent almost two decades besting you. She found you in Budapest. It would’ve taken a single shot. And still, it never came.

But you weren’t going to tell that to Sam.

"You're not friends?”

"No."

After that, your paths crossed only once in a blue moon. Once Natasha left Dreykov, she never sought you out. And you didn’t bother to either. You weren’t friends. You weren’t enemies. She was the sister that became little more than a stranger.

"Do you help all your not friends run from the law?"

"Natalia and I have an agreement of ... mutually assured destruction."

"Mutually assured destruction?" he dubiously repeats, quirking an eyebrow. "...So best friends."

In spite of your best efforts, your outwardly stoic expression gives way as a chuckle bubbles out of your mouth.

"Did anyone see that?” Sam proudly announces to the empty house. “I want it on the record that I made a Black Widow laugh!"

"Don't push it," you warn, though the hint of a smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth dampens the threatening undertone of your words.

"You've got a nice smile," Sam compliments.

You wipe the smile off your face, but there's nothing you can do to tame the slight blush creeping up your face, so you say the first thing that comes to mind, "Fuck off."

That's how it went between you and him. Push and pull.

Their time at your safe house in Scotland was short lived. No more than a few weeks. And even in those few short weeks, he saw it, saw the good that you desperately tried to keep hidden. Even then he knew, he knew you cared so much more than you would ever let on. Cooped up in your little cottage, he found that behind your barbed words and tough exterior, was a person that he really liked. You didn't let him see very much of it. Most of the time, it was in little slip ups, little cracks in your armor, but he saw it. He swore he did.

Sam ambles alone through the streets of New York, the pavement is still damp from the midnight rain, the noisy cityscape is the only thing keeping Sam from fixating on the endless loop of memories playing in his head.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you anymore. He did. All the time.

He thinks about how good it used to be. How even on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, it was good. He'd like to think you were as happy as he was.

In truth, he wasn't sure how or when it happened. You weren't very nice to him - to any of them really. You kept them at arm's length. He had to earn every glimpse of the person behind the armor. He had to earn every smile, every laugh, but he found each one was worth it. To him, you were worth it. You were worth all of it.

And when that time came, when that safe house wasn't safe anymore, you stayed by his side, you became his home.

You simply walked up to the breakfast table and announced that it wasn't safe to stay much longer. "You have to leave."

"What?"

"We've been here too long. People in town are beginning to talk."

Natasha didn't miss a beat. "How long?"

"Tonight."

Sam watches the interaction closely. You refuse to look at him. For a moment, Natasha's eyes look at you, imploring. She utters a quiet question in Russian.

You don't respond, only shaking your head once.

"I understand." She softly inhales, her shoulders slumping slightly, "Thank you."

You nod, turning on your heels and heading to your room. You didn't expect Sam to follow after you.

There's some part of you that's unsettled by how easily Sam fits into your life. You don't like how he speaks to you like you're friends. You don't like that there's a part of you that would love to know what being in Sam's life would feel like. And you most certainly don't like that Sam has no problem questioning you. Prying into your life. He won't like what he finds. He'll run the moment he sees the number of skeletons in your closet. No, you don't like that at all.

And you definitely don't like that he feels comfortable enough to follow you back to your bedroom. He wedges himself into your doorway, leaning against the wall, "So what about you?"

You don't turn to look at him as you pack your duffle bag, "What about me?"

"Where you gonna go?"

"I have other places."

"By yourself?"

"Typically."

"Why don't you stay with us?"

You pretend like you're surprised by the offer. As though Natasha didn't offer the same thing two minutes ago. You just didn't expect Sam's kindness to extend past his need for your safe house. "What?"

He takes a step off the wall. Even turned away from him, you can practically hear the grin he wears in his words. "We could always use the help. You seem like kind of a pro at being a fugitive."

"I don't think your team would appreciate my presence."

"I would. I want you to come." Sam turns back at the doorframe. He pauses for a moment, looking back at you. "You should come with us."

You never told him why you ended up joining them. It was the one question he couldn't ever get a straight answer for.

He couldn't really remember how or when you ended up in his bed - or more accurately, when he ended up in your bed.

All he knew was that for two years, you were his sanctuary. Each and every night. He held you. Kissed away your fears. You allowed him to see parts of you that you buried long ago.

It made the moment you walked away hurt even more.

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing here. He's pacing through the streets of New York in the middle of the night. It won't bring you back. It won't change what happened. You still left him.

It was easier believing that you left him because you didn't love him.

The other option hurts. It hurts too much. His heart almost shatters at the though of you leaving him because you didn't see it working out, because you thought you would hurt him.

That's the worst part - he believes Bucky. He believes that no one, not even someone as prone to finding trouble as you are, would ever go on the run with someone for the hell of it. Not unless you cared. Not unless you loved him.

He should've seen it. The panic in your eyes when he suggested going back to Louisiana. The pain when you lost Natasha, the last person you considered family.

It eats at him. He didn't even try. Not really. Yeah, you walked away, but he could've gone after you. He could've believed in the love he knew you shared.

He reaches for his phone, tucking into the crook of his neck as he hails a cab, and calls the one person that could possibly help him, "I need your help. Can you find someone for me?"

1 Year Earlier - Somewhere in Eastern Europe

“Stop watching me sleep.”

Sam kisses your bare shoulder, resting his chin on your arm, “It’s the only time you’re not frowning. Except when you’re with me, of course.”

You sleepily sigh, trying to suppress the smile that Sam so effortlessly puts on your face. You halfheartedly push him away, rolling further away from him, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Sam’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, “No, come back.”

“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, we should get the rest while we can.”

“I miss you,” Sam whines.

“I’m right here.”

“But we’re always talking about work, about the world ending, I just - I just want a minute, just me and you.”

You finally turn around to face him with a cheeky grin, “You had me to yourself all night, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

You settle against him, resting your head on his chest, “So why couldn’t you sleep?”

He smiles down at you, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I was thinking.”

“About?” you urge.

“What comes next. After the fight, after everything, about going home, finally seeing my family again. My sister would love you. I can't wait to introduce you."

Your smile slips from your face. "What?"

"I mean, I know we're on the run and everything, but I'm still holding onto hope," Sam confesses. "You'd love Louisiana."

A sinking feeling overtakes you. Those survival instincts you've spent your entire life cultivating bubble up. You could see Sam's family picture where he left it on the dresser. His picture perfect, shiny family.

That wasn't you. Not even in your wildest dreams could that be you. The closest thing you had to a family was the Black Widow sitting in the other room cleaning her knives. You weren't meant for domesticity. You weren't built for the happy ending that Sam deserved. The happy ending he wanted.

Sure, he loved you now, but would he love you when his family looks at you with disdain? Would he love you when Sarah refuses to let you anywhere near his nephews?

Or even worse, what if he did? What if he loved you through it all and you broke him in return? What if he loved you and he lost everything else because of it?

You could tell Sam. Right here and now. Tell him that you weren't built for that life. He would listen. He would hear you. Like all of your other scars and imperfections, Sam would take it in stride. You knew he would.

But could you really do that to him? Doom him to a life tethered to someone so tainted.

He was perfect. In every conceivable way. He was Sunshine. And though you'd done unspeakable things, there would be nothing quite as vile as dragging him down to the dim, murky depths of the wasteland you called home.

He deserved more. More than you would ever be.

6 Months Ago - A Bar in New York City

"You don't have to do this."

You bitterly chuckle. It was too late. You'd made up your mind. You gave yourself until the war against Thanos was won. You gave yourself that time to say your silent goodbyes, to memorize the one and only love you would ever allow yourself to have. You were selfish in that way.

Now was the time to save Sam while you still could, to finally set him free. Even if you had to break his heart to do it. You rest your hand on Bucky's chest, the furthest you could allow yourself to go without making your stomach turn. "Do what?"

Bucky's jaw ticks, "He's a good man."

"I know." It's the only time your voice reveals even an ounce of your pain. Your eyes flicker to over Bucky's shoulder. It's too late. Sam stands a few feet from you, watching you with anguish in his eyes. For good measure, you lean in closer, whispering in Bucky's ear, "But I never did well with sunshine."

"Can I talk to you outside?" Sam demands.

You roll your eyes and snort, "If we have to."

"We do."

Sam doesn't waste a single moment. The second you step outside, he points back to the bar, "What the hell was that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding me? I saw you. You were all over him. He's my friend!"

"I was just having a little fun, Sam."

"A little fun?" Sam scoffs. "Are you kidding me?"

You don't allow a single ounce of remorse to show. You don't allow him to see the regret. Your face is purposely blank, cold and uncaring. You were good at this part. You were good at hurting people. It's exactly why you have to let him go. "I don't see what the big deal is, Sam."

"You don't see what the big deal is?" Sam's voice wavers. "You were just coming onto my friend! What about us?"

"What about us?" you scoff. "I was bored, Sam, we had our fun but it's done now. We're not on the run anymore. It's not a big deal."

"Just like that, we're just done?"

"You were there, Sam," you lie through your teeth. Acid churns in your stomach, rising up through your esophagus and coating your every word. "There's nothing more to it, nothing more to us."

You'd done a lot of bad things in your life, but nothing made you feel quite as wretched as watching Sam's heart shatter before you. It was better this way. He didn't know it, but it was for the best. You couldn't ruin his life anymore. You couldn't hurt him if you walked away right now. Those were the last words you ever said to him.

He did it. He couldn't believe it. He'd found you. There you were, standing out on a rooftop, out in the pouring midnight rain. He almost laughs because of course you wouldn't even realize how theatrical this whole scene was. "Do you realize how dramatic it is to be standing out in the pouring rain all by yourself? And without an umbrella?"

"I'm working, Sam."

"Shooting your next romantic comedy? Is this the breakup scene?"

You don't even turn to look at him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sam.”

Sam scoffs, “That’s all you have to say? That I shouldn’t be here?”

“Go home, Sam," you demand. "I don’t want you here.”

“You’re such a jackass, you know that?”

It pisses him off that you still refuse to even look at him. If you were going to break his heart all over again, the least you could do was look him in the eye. You speak through clenched teeth, "I know."

He storms around, planting himself in front of you, forcing you to look at him. "No, I mean that, I really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I mean that. You're such an asshole. You're one of the most difficult, abrasive, cold, and selfish people I've ever met."

You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. You look just past him, mustering every ounce of your training to stay stone faced, "I know."

"Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"I didn't ask you to come here," you spit at him. "I didn't want you to come looking for me. You knew that."

"And you're a liar!" Sam exclaims, a bitter laugh bubbling up from his chest. "A damned good one, too."

"I never lied to you about who or what I was."

"But you did lie, didn't you? You've lied to me before."

“Yes, I have," you softly admit. You catch yourself, reminding yourself of why you're being so harsh with Sam. You force yourself to speak with that venomous tone you know all too well, "Many times, so if you’re done insulting me, I have to go.”

"God, you're so selfish, and- and you're mean! You brood way too much. You're so fucking angsty all the time. You act like the tortured character in every shitty teen movie every made. You're inconsiderate. You don't listen. I swear, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. And sometimes - sometimes, I want to hate you so much."

It takes everything in you to sound as unaffected as you do. You quirk an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Is that why you came here? Because you're upset?"

"Upset?" Sam incredulously repeats, taking a step toward you. He's still several feet away from you, still far out of your reach, "No, I'm not upset. I was upset six months ago. Now, I'm angry. I'm pissed off - with you. I have never been so mad at another human being in my entire life."

"I didn't do anything to you. You knew who I was - who I am."

"You think that's why I'm pissed? I'm pissed because you made me like you. I'm pissed that you made me fall so hopelessly in love with you."

For the first time in six months, your eyes find his. His warm eyes, the ones that grounded you through storms of midnight rain. He'd never said he loved you before - there's no taking that back. You suck in a breath, "Sam."

"I'm pissed because I believed you when you said you were bored. But mostly, I'm pissed that I let you go, that I let you walk away without fighting for you."

You try to warn him, beg him to stop before he says something that'll make it too hard to walk away from him. "Sam."

"Because I'm in love with you."

Your voice wavers as you beg him, "Don't do this, Sam."

"I'm in love with you," Sam announces again to his audience of one. "And I know you don't think you're good for me. And I know that it won't be easy, but I am. I am in love with you. Every part of you. Especially the parts you don't like. I like that you're mean, I like that you're tougher than any other person I've ever met, I like that you're grumpy. I like that you don't see how dramatic it is to stand in the pouring rain all by yourself! I love you. I love all of you."

"Sam..." His name leaves your mouth in a whisper. It's too late. You're not strong enough to survive walking away from him. He's doomed himself.

He takes a step closer to you. "And maybe it wasn't real... but I think it was. I think you feel the same." And then another step. And yet another. Until you're face to face, close enough that you could reach out and touch him for the first time in months. The rain beats down on the two of you. The dampness on your cheeks has nothing to do with the rain. "Tell me that you don't love me and I'll leave. Tell me and I won't bother you again, I promise."

You can't. You can't bring yourself to say any of it. "Sam, it'll never work for us. You have to know that."

"We're not at war anymore." His hand skates across your cheek. "We don't have to hide. We don't have to run."

"I'm not - I'm not good, Sam." And you are, you want to say.

“No, no, you’re not good. You’re great. You’re amazing. And it’s a damn shame you haven’t stepped into the daylight long enough to see how incredible you are.”

You jerk your face away from his hand, “And what if I can’t give you what you want? What if I can’t be what you want?”

“What do you know about what I want?”

“You want a bride. You want someone to bring home to your family - that’s not me, Sam. I don’t think that’ll ever be me.”

“I want you." Sam takes your face in between both hands, begging you to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I want you in whatever way you’ll have me.”

“I’m not worth it," you softly exhale. "You have to know that I’m not worth the trouble and the heartache I’ll put you through.”

“Break my heart," Sam offers without hesitation. "Do it over and over again. Do it for the rest of our lives. It’s all yours. You’re worth it.”

“Sam…” You didn’t have any other defense. He’d broken down each and every argument you spent years cultivating. You didn’t know where to go from here.

“Do you love me?” Your lips press into a thin line, eyes squeezing shut to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling. The rain slows to a halt. His thumb and pointer finger grip your chin, forcing you to meet his warm brown eyes. “Do you love me?”

“I love you.” You don't think you've ever said those words before. You don't think you've ever seen the daylight until you saw him. It'll take time for your eyes to adjust, but he's worth it. "I love you so much it hurts, so much that I let you go."

“You don't have to let me go anymore. We'll figure the rest out together."

Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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m4rs-ex3 · 6 months

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i propose

#not necessarily based on songs/lyrics but Vibes yk #rayllum #rayla #rayla tdp #tdp rayla #callum #callum tdp #tdp callum #tdp #the dragon prince #taylor swift #tv girl #melanie martinez #mitski #beabadoobee #cavetown #conan gray #boywithuke

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aphroditeinthesea · 17 days

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“ guilty as sin ii ”

jason grace x fem!reader

part two of guilty as sin | pt. 1

a/n the vote was split, so there’s no intense smut but insinuation and make out (overly descriptive bc i didnt want it to be just smutty)

. ݁₊ ⚡︎ . ݁ ⁺₊

Death seemed like a nice concept that night. Everything that had happened seemed like too much. Either Piper was going to kill her or Jason and Piper make up and kill her together. Which was worse? She laid awake in bed that night fantasizing about throwing herself to the wolves or the ocean rocks. These were different from her regular fatal fantasies of Jason, the ones that left her feeling as though her bed sheets were ablaze and all she wanted to do was scream his name. She bit her lip as she looked around the cabin at her sleeping siblings. She was absolutely envious of the peace they all felt.

She never could’ve imagined that Jason felt the same towards her. She started wondering the options, if she did go for him, would she be bad? If she didn't, would she be mad? Or wise? Not wise. She decided she could never be wise. Someone wise wouldn't have let this go one for so long. Someone wise wouldn't be thinking about guys during everything going on. There were so many things to worry about, and instead, she was worrying about a love affair.

She felt her stomach turn and decided to stand up. She walked into the bathroom just to check her hair. It was frizzy from her pillow, so she urgently tried to brush it down, but in a panic, threw down her brush. Unfortunately for her, she did so too aggressively, causing it to slip off and into the toilet.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, she looked up to the ceiling, “good one, Aphrodite.” She huffed, deciding to leave it there. She slowly walked out of the bathroom, to the cabin door. She took a deep breath as she left her cabin. She tried to be quick, so no one saw her.

She reached cabin one, knocking on the door. There was a shuffle of noise inside before the son of Jupiter opened the door for her. There he stood, wearing nothing but blue pajama pants that were low enough to sow the band of his boxers. She swore that her heart stopped at the sight.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice cracking, “I was just thinking about you.”

She walked in. She swallowed before breathing out questioningly, “Piper?”

He shut the door behind her. He bit his lip just next to his scar, “I broke up with her,” he led her over to his bed to sit with him, “she took it well. She told me that she could feel that I was in love with someone else, she just didn't want to believe it.”

“Did you tell her that it was because of me?”

“She knew before I even had a chance to tell her.”

“I feel awful,” she frowned as she thought of how she must have one of her best friends to feel so low.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” he responded, “I shouldn't have kissed you. I couldn't live with that guilt if I had stayed with her.”

“I shouldn't have thrown that all at you like that,” she admitted, “Annabeth was right.”

“What did Annabeth say?”

She sighed, “that I shouldn't go after you because of Piper. But you have no idea how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

“The feelings would’ve killed one of us.”

She chuckled, “what a way to die.”

He smiled, lightly resting a hand on her back. She looked up at him, cupping the smooth skin of his face with her hands, she hesitated before pressing her lips against his. His muscular arms wrapped around her to pull her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands wandered to grip onto the bottom of her.

“Jason,” she hummed as she let her hands move down to now be feeling his abdomen.

He smiled into the kiss before his tongue carved its way into her mouth. He leaned back, letting her hover him. Their kisses got sloppier as they both grew impatient. The way his lips felt was so different from her dreams and fantasies of him. His lips weren’t as soft as she imagined, they were chapped but she couldn't even pay attention to that as they were slowly pulling at her own. His calloused fingers trailed up her shirt, drawing circles on her back.

Her body tensed as she felt an electric shock course through her.

He froze, quickly pulling his hand away, “I’m sorry, my gods, are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine,” she leaned back into him, “do that again.”

“What?”

“Do it again,” she mumbled against his lips.

His hand traced her stomach, he locked his eyes with hers waiting for a signal. When she nodded, he took a deep breath before gently shocking her again.

She let out a soft groan, “oh my gods.”

He worriedly looked up at her, “was that okay?”

She brushed her lips against his, “yeah, thanks.”

He smirked, “thanks?”

She laughed, bringing her hands to brush along his cheekbones, “you know what I mean.” She rolled off of him, she awkwardly scooted to now be leaning on the headboard of his bed.

He smiled at her before crawling up to be in front of her. He connected their lips once again, her body now pressed against his pillows, which cushioned her as he pinned her further into his mattress.

His lips suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes just to look at her and really examine every inch of her face.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he whispered, “you're just beautiful.”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks, “thank you.”

He wetly kissed her jaw, “it’s true.”

“Hm,” she grinned as she began to thread her fingers through his hair, “you're not too bad either, Grace.”

He nibbled at the skin of her neck, carefully marking her up, blowing on the skin after leaving his mark. She knew in the morning she would be playing with her concealer, trying to figure out how to cover it up, but that was a problem for future her. Right now her entire world revolved around the boy who was on top of her.

He reached her chest with his lips. His blue eyes looked up at her like a doe, “is this okay?” he asked as he held onto the edge of her shirt.

“Yes, Jason,” she replied, moving up her arms so he could easily peel it off of her. He slowly did so, making sure she was comfortable the whole time. He threw the shirt onto the floor before turning his attention back to Y/N. Her breath hitched at the cool air of the cabin, but was too distracted by the body heat radiating off of Jason to care.

He continued to softly kiss down her chest and stomach. He began to carefully pull down her pajama pants. “Y/N?”

She looked down at him, “yeah, Jase?”

“You're okay, right?”

She insistently nodded, “of course,” she desperately wanted to follow up with please, please, please touch me, but that seemed a little embarrassing, so she restrained herself.

He hesitated to speak again, “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, “so I don't really know what I’m doing.”

She giggled, “that’s okay, Jason,” she responded, “me neither.”

She felt hair tickling her jaw and arms around her. She turned to see the blond holding tightly onto her as he slept soundly. She grinned, gently brushing her fingers along his bicep.

He looked up, opening his eyes, “good morning,” he smiled. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, his hand felt down her body that was covered by one of his t-shirts, “how are you feeling?”

She moved around to now be facing him, “I’m amazing, what about you?”

“I”m good,” he kissed her lips, a feeling that she could never get enough of, “I just wanted to make sure that you're not in pain or anything.”

“I’m okay,” she held onto his jaw, “I promise.”

He nodded, “I believe you, Y/N.”

She realized then that everything she had been feeling was finally fresh out the slammer.

—

corny ending, sorry

#jason grace x reader #jason grace #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo #jason grace one shot #jason grace headcanon #based on a taylor swift song #the tortured poets department

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