#but it's bittersweet too because they know they might not get another moment like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seattlesellie · 10 months

Note

could you make bff!ellie catching you masturbating and says something like ”i can help you if youd like” bc you couldnt climax when you do it yourself

caught ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

an: pretty self explanatory. nsfw, mdni please. part one of two!

yet another droplet of salty—sweet sweat fell on your top lip. you couldn’t get there, couldn’t you? no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you rutted against the fabric, the position your pillow was in— folded, to the side, with the tip; you just couldn’t do it. you couldn’t cum.

a pitiful whine fell from your lips. should an unfamiliar passerby chance upon the scene, they might have assumed that you were tormented, in agony.

the bittersweet twist in your stomach was truly just a tease. almost there, almost, in a fleeting moment— vanished into thin air.

would it be wrong to say that you looked absolutely pathetic? it probably wouldn’t be, it would be nothing but the truth. with your panties hung loose around your ankles, your toes curling inside of your soft white socks, your body feverishly oscillating back and forth, then sideways, tracing circles— and then just straight up humping, it was sad.

“oh— please, please!” you mewled, better yet, cried out.

perchance, you could get there if you pulled your erect nipples, if you pinched them just right, that tormenting tension would finally dissipate. you hastily took your pajama tank top off and threw it on the floor. you pulled on the swollen buds, twisted them slightly, only to elicit a shrill cry that escaped your lips.

“mmph— god!”

you were supposed to meet ellie at 4:30pm. or was it 4:15? 4:20? you wouldn’t know. the clock was ticking, and there you were, grinding yourself helplessly against your soft pillow. tick—tock.

it’s 4:13.

4:14:

ellie knocked on your apartment door. once, then twice, and finally she pressed the buzzer. she was starving, her mouth salivating, and the scent coming from the pizza box wasn’t helping in the slightest.

she buzzed it again, and to her dismay, no answer.

“ugh, cmon” she huffed, knocking forcefully again.

what were you doing? in the bathroom? showering? you must be busy somehow, with your earphones in, maybe?

you said 4:15pm. she wasn’t very forgetful, especially when it came to you.

biting down on her bottom lip, ellie remembered there’s a spare key conveniently tucked beneath the brown “welcome!” carpet. she knows this because you told her, when she walked you home, tipsy and giggling after a night out.

“right” she mumbled, balancing the large pizza box on her left hand. she bent down, and she was right. she remembered correctly— a spare key. as ellie swung open the door, she was greeted by an empty living room.

“hello?”

she paced around. maybe you were hiding underneath the kitchen table? pulling a prank on her? you goof.

“pizzas here…” she melodically chimed.

“and i'm… here too”

she pondered the possibility of someone having broken into your apartment and kidnapping you. could that be?

ugh, ellie. quit being so dramatic.

ellie placed the pizza box right on the kitchen counter, and began walking towards your room. maybe you were napping, that sounds like a much nicer thought. when the image of you cuddled up inside a fuzzy blanket popped into her mind, she chuckled. cute.

oh how terribly wrong she was.

you pressed against your pillow, causing the bed to emit two distinct squeaks.

ellie's head swiftly turned to the side, her steps growing closer and closer to your room. so you didn’t get kidnapped... you’re in there. jumping on the bed, perhaps?

as a high-pitched whimper escaped your lips, reaching her ears as if tethered by an invisible string, her heart sank. she was dangerously close to the wooden door now.

her breath caught in her throat. you were fucking somebody.

it was muffled, but the bed creaking and the whiney sob? her head was spinning in circles, palms itching and sweaty. not only did you completely forget about your plans, you were in there— letting someone fuck you. she didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. she didn’t even know you were doing that shit and that sweet, blissful moan? she dug crescent marks onto her palms as she clenched them tightly.

it was wrong. it was painfully wrong and creepy and perverted, but ellie had to see. she had to know who you were letting inside your bed, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. all she did, was twist the doorknob carefully, the door opening far enough for her to see, but still not enough for you to notice.

oh.

with your bare back on display, and your ass squished against the pillow— ellie felt like she was going to faint. your sweet, frustrated moans filled the room and ellie blinked so many times she was having a sensory overload.

this has to be a dream, she thought. one of her crazy ones, the only ones she doesn’t tell you about. her throat felt dry, and she had to swallow hard. ellie took a shaky breath in, and she nearly groaned. you were desperate, she swore she could see a sweet droplet of sweat flowing down your back.

ellie’s first instinct was shutting the door and leaving.

for the first time in her life, ellie didn’t listen to her instincts. she stood there, mouth agape, toes curling inside of her chucks.

“pleasepleaseplease, unggh—“ that little moan was so high pitched and sweet and ellie felt dizzy, faint, awestruck. she dug her trimmed fingernails right into her jeans covered thigh and pinched. this is a dream, ellie— wake up.

“oh god!”

wake up, ellie.

you got down on your elbows, and you dragged your aching clit all over the pillow. the bed squeaked again. she could see everything, the swollen button, your tight hole and your ass—

wake up, ellie.

“fuck” she huffed, and you still couldn’t hear a thing, too busy and too in trance, poorly trying to get yourself off.

when you humped the pillow again— ellie’s own clit pumped. like a faint heartbeat, she felt a dull ache growing and growing.

she stood there; dizzy, disgusting, turned on, like a peeping tom.

she should leave. she has to leave. why can’t she leave? her feet are glued to the floor and she can’t walk, paralyzed.

she could walk out of here and pretend it never happened. she could go home, rub one out, rub it again till it hurts and then see you the next day. this could be normal, she could be normal about this, can’t she?

“fuck!” you gave up. you weren’t getting there, this wasn’t happening today. you weren’t going to cum and you had to deal with it. slowly, you steadied your breath and grabbed your phone. it was 16:24, where is she? you decided to text her.

“when are u coming over? i’m starving”

ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she nearly choked. there she was, frozen, staring.

thankfully, you didn’t hear it. in fact, you couldn’t hear anything— your ears were still pumping.

ellie swiftly took her phone out of her pocket and noticed her hands were shaking, it nearly slipped out of her grip. she shouldn’t answer. she should pretend that she had forgotten, she was napping, at the gym, working on something, god knows what. she shouldn’t answer.

but she did.

“give me 20 minutes, was at the gym”

you chuckled, and when you went to scratch your chin with your shoulder, ellie thought you were turning around and she nearly collapsed.

“lol u renewed your membership?”

oh shit. she cancelled it last month. her jeans felt too tight and her face was on fire and now she had to lie, again.

“yeah”

even as she typed— she couldn’t look away. your ass was on full display and it was something she had to burn into her memory. she would never see you like this ever again.

“i don’t believe you”

oh fuck.

“send proof ellie… need to know ur not just lying and hanging out with toxic stacy again”

is it possible that she completely forgot who you were talking about? was she that delirious?

“omg wrong name lol 🩷 i meant samantha”

oh, her.

is samantha’s pussy this pretty?

oh, she’s sick.

you giggled and adjusted yourself on the pillow again. when you laid completely down, ellie’s eyes rolled back.

“i’m at the gym… not lying, weirdo”

you sighed, and ellie heard it. the fact that she could hear every single one of your reactions to her texts made her cringe but it also made her feel something she’s never felt before.

“send a gym selfie then”

you weren’t intentionally flirting. it was purely innocent on your part, just that. you needed to know she wasn’t lying. why did her stomach flip?

she knew she had to have one. she knew she had to have at least one picture of her at the gym. she must have sent something back then, maybe to cat. cat loved her blurry gym pictures, the ones she sent her with the bottom of her tank-top in between her teeth and her toned abs on full display. she found it— after two whole minutes of aimless searching and scrolling. just what she thought, her abs, slightly sweaty and glistening, her thin happy trail, and her boxers peaking out from her sweats. she sent it so fast and she didn’t even think—

you stared at your screen. fully stared. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why did she… that picture was… suggestive. your best friend is a weirdo and she’s also making your tummy feel like it’s being swarmed by angry bees.

“i believe u now :) see you in 20!”

ellie felt like punching herself in the face, but before she did, before she closed the door and got the hell out of there— you did something that was so unfathomable, she nearly went cross eyed. with ellie’s picture flashing on your phone, you began grinding again. the moan that fell from your lips was guttural, ravenous.

this wouldn’t even be the first time, wouldn’t it? getting off to the thought of your best friend?

this time, when the pillow met your clit again, you were wet and slimy and you seamlessly glided onto the plush fabric. you knew, deep down, that you could get there this time. if you were looking at her, at her sculpted abs with her shirt in her mouth you could actually cum. you didn't even bother thinking about it, about how wrong it is. she would never know, so what's the big deal?

this time— ellie has to wake herself up somehow. this was the sign, the only one that helped her make sure she knew that she was absolutely dreaming.

if this was, in fact, a dream— ellie would coo at you. she would walk over, ever so slowly, lift you up, help you get off of the pillow, and hold your hand. "poor thing, need my help?" when you'd nod, shed guide your body up and down and teach you just the right moves. shed take you by the waist and help you slide, suck on your nipples and look at you. occasionally— she would stop on her nibbling to mutter "all you needed to do was ask me, pretty girl"

but this isn't a dream. ellie knows this isn't a dream because she checked the time on her phone and a minute had passed and she knows it doesn't work like that in the dream realm.

would it be wrong if she slipped her hands right into her pants?

"please, ellie"

you moaned her name like you were ashamed. like you knew she was right there and she could hear you. what would you do if she was?

when ellie heard the whine of her name slip out of your mouth, her phone dropped down to the floor and hit it with a thud. for ellie, it sounded louder than a brick.

you turned around fast, you thought a vase had fallen. when you caught her gaze, because ellie couldn't. fucking. move— you weren't embarrassed. you were too mortified to be embarrassed, you screeched and you didn't speak. neither did ellie.

your lips were trembling and her hands were sweating profusely. you've never seen her look like this, she's never seen you look like this. she opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she didn't. she stood, frozen.

you don't know when you managed to grab the blanket and wrap it around your body but you did.

she opened up her mouth again, but only a soft "ah" noise escaped from it.

"when d—did you..."

"just now" she lied.

"and you stood there f—for..." you stuttered. now, the embarrassment finally hit.

"i saw" ellie managed to speak, somehow.

she saw?

"w—what?

"i saw"

what did she see? your heart was beating fast. you’ve never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. what did she see?

you couldn’t speak. you wouldn’t dare. embarrassed, not able to make any eye contact with the green eyed girl, you stared at the floor.

“i think…” she stepped closer to you, and she kept her gaze on the floor as well.

“i can…”

another step. closer now, dangerously so.

your entire body trembled.

she looked up at you, finally.

“help”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #might delete :3 #ellie williams drabble

2K notes · View notes

buckrecs · 1 year

Text

2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

1. Galavano by @ichorai

Bucky x Reader

a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!

2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU

The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.

3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs

Bucky x Widow!Reader

The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.

4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle

Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader

You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?

5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers

Bucky x Reader

The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.

6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue

Bucky x Therapist!Reader

Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.

7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy

Bucky x Reader

You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.

8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy

Sequel to it’s all fun and games

Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for...

9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨

Bucky x Reader

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

Mob!Bucky x Reader

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.

13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue.

14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian

Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader

It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story.

15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint

Alien!Bucky x Reader

In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…

16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.

17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨

Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking

Pirate!Bucky x Reader

Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?

19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨

Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.

21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller

40s!Bucky x Reader

Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨

God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader

For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.

23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨

Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.

24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren

Bucky x Reader

After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨

Biker!Bucky x Reader

Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.

27. Bygone by @borntobewondering

Bucky x Reader

You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.

28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨

Bucky x Reader

Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.

29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill

Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader

He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.

30. Carnations by @viollettes

Bucky x Reader College AU

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

1K notes · View notes

sweetandgentlecreature · 8 months

Note

May I request some jealous Henry with lots of fluff, please? 🥹❤️

You got it, babe! I may have taken a bit of a liberty with this one. I got a thought in my head and had to get it out, so I'm sorry if it wasn't quite what you'd imagined, lol. Thanks for stopping by!

Warnings: a little bit of angsty homesickness, some raunchy banter, and plenty of fluff in the form of a cow/bear/pig

"So...What are you wearing?"

"Henry!"

His laughter fills the room. Another night apart means another night alone in bed. Distance is always hard on a relationship, and though you've been through your share of time apart, it doesn't make it any easier this time around. At least it's just for a couple of weeks, while he's off running the press gauntlet for the newest season of The Witcher. It's bittersweet this time around. The last several months have been hard, watching him mourn the loss of a project he loved so much, and it sucks that you couldn't be there for him now. The plan was for him to go off and do everything abroad, then you'd meet back up and join him at the premiere in London. In the meantime though, all this waiting was driving you nuts.

The house is dark, except for the glow of the bedside lamp that illuminates the room that you're used to sharing with your man and his bear. Kal is used to tagging along for most adventures, and it's clear that he's a bit disappointed about having to stay behind as well. His ears perk up at the sound of his dad's voice, but doesn't bother to investigate further. He's far too comfy to move.

"Come on, love. Just a peek?"

Henry is a menace, and he knows what that does to you. With those beautiful eyes and that cheeky little grin, you could never tell him no. Throwing the blankets aside, you reach out to adjust the screen of your laptop to give him the perfect view of your sexiest fleece pajama bottoms.

"Hey!" he protests. "That's my shirt!"

"Yeah, and?

Even now, propped up in the bed of a hotel room a couple thousand miles away, Henry couldn't hide from you. The banter was just a facade, a distraction to keep you from seeing just how much he missed you. He thought he'd built a wall of stone to keep you from knowing, but in reality, it was just a pane of glass. One look and it shattered around him.

Henry sighs. He doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's feeling, because you feel it too. It's an odd sensation, feeling so homesick when you're still at home. You look down at the t-shirt you're wearing. The gray one he wore in the Durrell Challenge a few years back. Even though its been sitting in the back of the closet for a while, it still smells like him. That's why you picked it.

"What time is it there?" you ask, but it's clear by the look in his eyes just how tired he is. Must be getting pretty late, even for an insomniac gamer like him.

"Late. But I don't have anything planned for the morning, so don't worry."

You sit in silence for a moment, both of you laying on your sides facing each other just as you would if he were here with you now. When you open your mouth to speak, to finally admit just how much you miss him, you're cut short by a loud, rumbling snort from the foot of the bed. The culprit lets out a yawn ("Good yawn!") and a stretch ("Big stretch, bubba"), then works his way up the bed to nose at the keyboard a bit.

"Uh oh. We've woken the bear," you tease, rubbing the beast behind his ears as he circles the space he's made between you and the computer to rest in. Kal sniffs and sighs to voice his disappointment, then settles down again to snooze for a little while longer.

"Keeping Mumma company, I see," Henry smirks. "I might even let it slide that you've let him on the bed."

You shrug, grinning ear to ear as you ruffle Kal's mane. "When the wolf's away..."

That struck a nerve. Maybe it's the jetlag finally catching up to him, or maybe its the distance. You can see it in the shift in his eyes, the tense of his jaw. It makes you snort with laughter.

"Oh, come on, Cavill. Look at that face. You can't possibly be jealous of him. You'll get plenty of snuggles the moment you're home." Then you wink. "Snuggles, and then some."

The wrinkles on his brow disappear, and he realizes just how silly it is to be jealous of the dog. Better to be jealous of him than someone else, at least. Shaking his head, he laughs. What an idiot. Either way, it's good enough for now. Henry shifts to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at the screen. He's sure you'll make good on your promise. In the meantime...

"Now," he says with a grin. Good ole Henry, always back to business as per usual. "Care to flash me a tit?"

#requests #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavil x reader

469 notes · View notes

hanniluvi · 5 months

Text

( 🧥 ) HIS BEIGE SWEATER — JAKE SHORT FIC

[ DAY THREE ] of the advent calendar !

( 🧥 ) SYNOPSIS . you still remember, the 3rd of december, where he gave you his sweater. you would never forget that day.

( ˙ᵕ˙ ) PAIRING . jake x gn!reader ~~ WC 0.8K+ ( 827 )

( 🧥 ) GENRE . fluff, angst, realized too late kind of thing 😪

( ˙ᵕ˙ ) WARNINGS . INSPIRED BY THE SONG “HEATHER” BY CONAN GRAY , nothing but bittersweet

( 🧥 ) NOTE . IK NICHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE NEXT, but i had the random urge to write jake angst … AND ITS DEC 3RD, I HAD TO WRITE TO HEATHER FOR THIS EVENT !! so … yes … here we are … sorry nicho and jake my baes 😢

"Hey YN!" Jake greets with a wave, sprinting toward you as he spots you seated on the porch steps. You respond with a smile, reciprocating the friendly gesture. When he reaches you, he comes to a halt and promptly takes a seat beside you.

"Hey Jake," you shiver slightly, rubbing your arms. He catches you, suddenly adopting a serious expression. You glance in his direction, finding him crossing his arms, which elicits a small chuckle from you. “Now what, Sim Jaeyun?”

“Okay, not you pulling out the government name!”

“Sorry…!” You smile, both knowing it was a playful tease, and he acknowledges it with a grin.

Jake playfully scolds, "Anyways, you should have worn something warmer, YN. Like seriously, just a long sleeve shirt in a weather like this?"

You chuckle, "I didn't expect it to be this cold, honestly. I was just out to get some fresh air.”

Without another word, he removes the sweater he’s wearing, and hands it over to you. “Here.”

“Huh?”

“Wear it,” he insists, still holding it out to you, patiently waiting for you to take it from his grasp. He shoots you a slightly confused expression, wondering about the source of your hesitation. “What? Want me to help put it on you or something?”

He grins instantly when you finally take it from him, though you still appear a bit hesitant. “Are you sure? You’re going to be cold, y'know.”

“You’ve been out here longer than me. I can deal with it for a bit.”

You ease into the sweater, still hesitant. "Are you sure about this, Jake?"

“Yeah, I’m sure. You can borrow all my stuff for all I care,” he responds nonchalantly.

“Oh well… thank you for the sweater, Jake,” you hum, taking in the light, sweet cologne that lingers on his beige sweater. As you glance at your side, you make eye contact with Jake, surprised to find him still looking at you. “Um… what are you looking at?”

“It’s nothing—it looks better on you than it ever could on me,” he smiles.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What makes you say that?" Jake grins, his eyes holding a playful sparkle. "Because I like you, YN."

Because I like you, YN.

How you wished you could go back to December 3rd 2022 just to hear those words once more.

In that moment, you wished you could express everything you feel. To tell him how much you like him — his smile, his presence, his jokes — to lay bare the evidence of your affection, to confess that what you feel goes beyond mere liking; it's love.

Sighing, you snap out of your thoughts, glancing at your home screen—December 3rd, 2023. You can't help but wonder if he would give you his sweater again, though the chances seem unlikely. “YN!” a familiar voice calls out, and as you turn around, there's Jake, wearing the same smile and surprisingly, the same sweater from that memorable day. It feels like deja vu, a moment echoing the past.

“Hey Jake,” you greet, a smile playing on your lips. In your mind, you wonder what he might ask of you this time, a curiosity tinged with a hint of anticipation. How you wished you could experience that day once more.

This scenario feels too familiar, and you can't help but grin at his concern, secretly hoping for a repeat of the sweater gesture. "Well, you know, I didn’t think it would be that cold again," you say, stealing a glance at his familiar beige sweater.

He catches your gaze, a mischievous smile forming. "Speaking of which, do you think I look good—" he asks, pointing to his sweater.

Caught off guard, you blurt out, "I’ll take—" without thinking, momentarily forgetting your initial expectation of getting the sweater. “Wait, what?”

“Huh?” he says, clearly confused.

“Nevermind…what were you saying?” you awkwardly say, realizing you got ahead of yourself.

“I was asking if I look good 'cause… you know, I wanna impress her.”

Oh.

You should’ve known.

“Oh—yeah, yeah. You look great,” you respond, a hint of bitterness coloring your words.

"Thanks," Jake grins, seemingly satisfied with your response. Just then, he spots someone in the distance and without much explanation, he hurries off.

Confused, you follow his gaze and realize he's approaching another person, a girl who was wearing the same amount of layers you had that night. She was pretty, you had to admit.

Observing from a distance, you witness Jake taking off the sweater and handing it over to her. It feels like a familiar scene, as if you're reliving the same moment from a different perspective.

A pang of self-realization hits you. There's no right to be jealous; after all, it was your opportunity to seize, and it slipped away before you could even grasp it. Regret settles in as you reflect on the missed chance, contemplating the unspoken feelings you've harbored for Jake.

If Jake only knew how much you loved him.

💭 — ok but why jake lowkey sucker by jonas brother coded … sorry guys im Like brainstormining

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

198 notes · View notes

sumsumstrashbin · 7 months

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 ~ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟖𝟗𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐛𝐡

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It was a quiet night in the town of Enigmere, the place you called home. Your house was nestled in a tightly knit neighbourhood full of other wizarding families, so it got particularly quiet after sundown. Tonight was no different, especially with the rain pouring down as hard as it was.

You had fallen asleep on your favourite armchair in your living room, your book still in your hands and the candles around you slowly continuing to burn. The rumbling sound of a motorcycle driving down your street awoke you from your slumber. What was a motorcycle doing in your neighbourhood? You knew that nobody that lived on your street owned one, and the sound immediately reminded you of your ex boyfriend, Sirius Black.

You placed your book on the coffee table, getting up and walking to the front window. You pulled the blinds open to look outside, and your suspicion was confirmed to be true. Sirius stepped off his bike, taking his helmet off. You couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but you had no doubt that it was him.

He approached your door, knocking. You proceeded to the door, confused, but you opened it for him anyway. The light from inside of your house illuminated his face, allowing you to see the damage on it. His clothes were dripping onto your doormat, his hair was drenched and messy, and his face was badly bruised.

“Sirius–” You ushered him in, sitting him down in the very armchair that you had been sitting in moments ago. “–What happened?”

“I got into a fight.” He admitted, droplets of rain trailing down his long strands of hair. “It got a bit out of hand.”

“Out of hand? You look like you just stumbled out of a brawl, Sirius!” You exclaimed, grabbing a first aid kit and a towel from the closet. “Merlin’s beard.” You pulled up a stool in front of him, putting the towel around his shoulders. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You began dabbing the cuts on his face, careful but firm. The candle light flickered dimly across his face, but you avoided looking into his eyes as you wiped his face. The tension in the air was almost suffocating, unspoken questions lingering over your head. Yet, there was something intimate about the silence you shared, the only sounds being the thunder outside and the quiet rustle of medical supplies.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke, breaking the silence.

“This cut is bad, Sirius. It might scar.” You brushed your cotton swab over a split on his nose bridge, causing him to wince. You placed a bandage over it, smoothing it down carefully.

“Y/n.”

You met his gaze, a mixture of sympathy and some lingering feelings passing between the two of you.

“I said I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“For what?” You questioned, cleaning another cut on his cheek bone.

“I don’t know. For coming here…” He responded, but he knew that wasn’t the only thing he was apologising for. “I just didn’t know where else to go. I knew you wouldn’t turn me away. But I shouldn’t have come.”

“You can always come here, Sirius. No matter what.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“You’re a good person. You need someone that can see that, even when you can’t.” You spoke softly, sitting back to examine his face.

“Sometimes it feels as though you’re the only one that does. Perhaps I just need you, then.”

His admission hung in the air, and a sense of bittersweet nostalgia filled the room. Your heart ached seeing him like this, and you knew that it was because of the feelings you still had for him.

“I came here because I needed to be some place that felt like home.” He continued. “You feel like home. We were happy, once. Life just got complicated.”

You nodded, taking his hand to bandage his knuckles. “Life always has a way of complicating things, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, intertwining his fingers with yours when you were done with the bandages. “Do you think we could find our way back?” He looked at you, eyes full of hope and hesitation as he awaited your response.

“Maybe.” You responded after a moment. How could you say no when he was looking at you like that? You felt his thumb rubbing your hand, and memories of the time you spent together flooded your mind. “I want to. Believe me, I do.”

“Then let's try. One step at a time.”

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Once you finished cleaning him up, you fetched him a pair of dry clothes to change into. Luckily, the clothes he used to keep at your house were still tucked away in one of your drawers.

“You can sleep on my bed. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more by sleeping on the couch.” You spoke, grabbing yourself a blanket.

“Are you kidding? I’m not going to steal your bed, Y/n. The couch is fine.”

“I refuse. Go lay down and get some sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed unless you are too. So pick your poison.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. “Fine.”

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

By morning, Sirius’ hand was snaked around your waist and your head was resting on his chest, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

#sirius black x y/n #sirius orion black #sirius black #harry potter #marauders #hp #maraudersera #padfoot #sirius #sirius black au #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius oneshot #sirius x reader #the marauders #marauders au #marauders era

128 notes · View notes

failed-inspection · 5 months

Text

Dead On Arrival: a Rain World AU

hii hii! I had this AU concept bouncing around in my head for ages, the basic summary can best be described as "What if Spearmaster was friends with Artificer before the events of Arti's campaign?"

Time has passed since The Incident, and Spearmaster Cannot help but blame themself, those angry words of their recipient still haunt their mind, knowing that the message they delivered had caused the death of someone, brougt a slow and painful demise to another, and had burned the bridges between their creator and the one closest to them... They had so much people relying on them, and they failed, they sometimes still visit the surrounding facility areas, maybe as some sort of self inflicted punishment, reopening the wounds of memories, maybe as a bittersweet reminder of what could have been, regardless, during one of these travels, they come across a family of three, a maroon Slugcat and their two pups, at this moment in time, Spear is aware that they're considered an anomaly amongst slug kind (maybe they went to OE at one point as they were traveling), and expected some sort of negative reaction, instead, the other slugcats just seem... curious, not afraid, not disgusted, curious, this in one way or another, this leads to the slugcats interacting, which leads to them hanging out more and more, at one point, becoming relatively close, Arti's pups enjoy playing with Spearmaster despite how unusual they are, and Arti is happy to have a supply on spears whenever it was time to hunt, of course, spear would always return back to Suns, but whenever they visited the facilities, the family would always be happy to see them again.

Eventually, Spearmaster felt comfortable enough with Arti to open up about The Incident, about how they were tasked to deliver a pearl to help their creator's friend, only for things to take a turn for the worst, they ruined their creator's life, their friend lost everything, and they failed to save the one person who needed it most, leading to her death.

Arti doesn't quite understand the loss spearmaster has experienced, since they admit they hasn't faced such a loss like this, but they try to reassure them that things will be fine, they'll be here for them, despite everything, they don't have to grieve alone, one day they talk once again, before Spear goes back to Suns' can, and Arti and their pups go along their very way.

Remember how I mentioned Arti didn't understand the loss? That's because they didn't lose their pups yet.

This is the last time Spearmaster ever sees Arti's pups again, their lives had been later taken in freak incident, when one of them got a little too curious about a golden pearl within the scavenger tolls...

Eventually, time passes, and Spear and Arti see each other again, this isn't a warm, welcoming reunion by any means, as Spear found out about their current murder spree, to add salt to the wound, they also learned about how Pebbles, (who in their eyes, is the very one that lead to the death of Moon and stuff like that, how they feel about pebbles is very complicated and might need it's open in depth look but regardless considering their previous experiences with Pebbles his actions here REALLY don't sit well with them) tasked them with exterminating the scav population in his city, Spear is... rightfully horrifed! This wasn't the slugcat they once knew, the one they considered a friend, they honestly felt pretty betrayed in a sense... maybe Artificer is in the middle of a killing spree as Spearmaster runs into them, maybe they're too blinded by grief so that their attempts to get them to stop, that they don't have to do this... This only makes them see more red, maybe they end up fighting physically, maybe one of them ends up fleeing, whether it be in anger or horror.

Either way, Just like the bonds of the two iterators Spearmaster was made to help in the first place, history repeats itself, and the bridges have burned once again.

because I'm evil, the pearl the pup tried to take is the same pearl that held the instructions for removing the self destruction taboo in this AU <3

#rain world #rw spearmaster #rain world downpour #rw au #rw artificer #lex rambles #my art #I'M HONESTLY STILL VERY PROUD OF THIS AU!!#rain world au #rain world spearmaster #rain world artificer #rw fanart #rain world fanart

81 notes · View notes

black-amortentia · 4 months

Text

A Shower of Sparks | Festivities - Snolidays 2023

Severus Snape x Professor!Reader | Warnings: Secret relationship, fluff and maybe a little angst because FEELINGS, I finished and edited this through a migraine, so please forgive any failings!

This is my story for week four "Festivities" of Snolidays 2023! This is the final part, and we get to see a little more from Sev's POV this time. Though all parts can be read independently, there is a bit of a story linking them all together.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Although half the students had gone home for the holiday, the Christmas feast was elaborate and mouthwatering as ever. Roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin juice, and a variety of other delights. The Great Hall filled with a hum of conversation instead of the usual cacophony, which was bittersweet to Severus. While less noise was less likely to give him a headache, it made his conversation with you more likely to be overheard. He would have to be careful of his words.

Being careful around you had grown increasingly difficult.

Not that you had noticed. Severus was always a master of his emotions, even when you were alone. You thought nothing of his silence, pulling him into your conversation with Professor Sprout.

“What about you, Severus? Do you miss spending time with your family during the holidays?”

“No.”

A quick, terse answer, as usual. It was a part of your subterfuge, making a show of how Severus was just as impatient with you in front of everyone. Though this interaction served as a reminder that you knew nothing about Severus’s family. If you thought about it, how much did you really know about him at all?

Under the table, Severus’s hand found your thigh. The perpetual chill of his hand seeped through your clothes, his hand just resting there. A few soft movements of his palm stroking up and down. At first, you thought he was simply in a hurry to be alone. When you saw him take a bite out of the corner of your eye, you realized he hadn’t finished his meal. You reached for the jug of pumpkin juice, brushing his shoulder with your own.

When the feast wound down, Dumbledore approached his owl lectern. “As another successful Christmas draws to a close, I invite you all to assemble outside on the lawn for a final Christmas surprise.”

The hall erupted into murmurs of surprise and curiosity. You shared glances with your fellow teachers, but it seemed this surprise was for faculty as much as for the students. None of you had the foggiest.

As people filed out of the Great Hall in, you fell into step beside Severus. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Severus slowed his steps, allowing others to fetch hats and scarves and scurry outside. Neither of you spoke until you were alone.

“Yes?” Severus drawled. His hand went to your waist, eager to touch you while he had the opportunity.

“This seems like the perfect time to give you this.” You withdrew a small package wrapped in brightly colored paper. Severus raised an eyebrow as you presented it to him.

He faltered, looking down at the object between you as if it would bite him if he moved too quickly.

Gifts? Severus knew it was Christmas, but he had not expected there to be an exchange of gifts. Severus wasn’t even sure when he’d last received a gift.

“Don’t just stare at it. Open it before someone catches us.”

Severus pulled apart the wrapping paper, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor when he saw what was within. A pair of soft, black leather gloves with an elaborate design of a snake embossed on the back. Severus was speechless. His lack of response brought a smile to your face. You had hoped to surprise and impress, and it seemed to succeed.

“I have nothing for you,” he said quietly.

You waved your hand. “I don’t care about that. I just saw these and thought you might like them.”

Severus stared down at the gloves, coming to his senses and pulling them on. He’d been wrestling with his feelings for you, struggling to understand what he wanted, what he could have with you. Wondering what you truly felt for him. Surely you didn’t care deeply for him. He wouldn’t deserve it, even if you did.

Your relationship had grown deeper over the holidays, but this gift made it clear. You really did care. Enough to keep him in your idle thoughts, enough to bring him gifts and cheer, even when he thought he did not want such things.

There was something Severus knew you wanted, something he hadn’t been able to give you. Out of fear, of a desire to protect you, he held back. Severus wasn’t sure if he could do that any longer. Maybe the best thing he could give you in return was a piece of himself.

“My mother.”

“Hm?” You turned to him, questioning, as you retrieved your scarf.

“You asked earlier if I miss my family during the holidays. I miss my mother.”

You paused your movements, your hand darting out to take his. This was the most Severus had ever opened up to you, and you would not take that for granted. “I would love for you to tell me about her.”

Footsteps down the hall caused the two of you to break apart. You flicked your wand, vanishing the wrapping paper on the floor, and busied yourself with your scarf.

A few Gryffindor boys walked past, heading for the lawn. “I think Snape’s trying to catch someone under the mistletoe. Only way he’s getting a kiss,” one of them joked, not as quietly as he seemed to think.

“Hold your tongue, McLaggen, or next time it will be house points,” Severus snapped, his voice dripping with malice. He shot you a disparaging look, driving his point home.

Frowning, you ducked your head, stung by his cruel tone. Severus preferred to keep things private, but sometimes it felt like he didn’t want the relationship at all. Staying secretive, holding you at arm’s length, sometimes pushing you away. Even those times when you were alone together, when he showed you the side of himself he kept hidden from everyone else, Severus felt closed off. You always respected him and knew he had his reasons, but sometimes it left you wondering.

What exactly were you to Severus Snape?

With the moment you were sharing thoroughly ruined, you finished bundling up. “Don’t want to miss the surprise,” you commented, following the students out to the lawn.

But your eyes said it all. All the hurt and uncertainty contained within your gaze. Severus picked up on your emotions, but his Legillimency confirmed it. Flexing his fingers in his new gloves, he followed silently after you.

Severus had once ruined the most important relationship in his life by saying the wrong thing. Was he on the path to making the same foolish mistake?

The lawn was dimly lit, students and teachers milling about. Severus stood just behind your shoulder, black cloak concealing his movements. He took your hand, lacing your fingers together. His breath lifted your hair when he whispered your name. “Perhaps we can speak later?”

You squeezed his hand gently in return. Severus didn’t hear your whispered response. He had come to a realization. If this continued, he could put you at risk. Severus had seen the Dark Mark on his arm growing stronger. He couldn’t let you be a weakness, or let you fall into danger because of him. No matter how much you meant to him, it would be selfish to keep you without telling you the truth. A truth he could never tell you.

But he couldn’t keep you at arm’s length forever. Severus knew he would lose you. Sometimes he already felt you slipping away. You deserved more than a man who only gave you part of himself. Would it be better to end things now, before he made it more painful for both of you?

Severus had to decide.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. The crowd fell silent, looking to the sky.

A crimson firework shot up over the turrets with a trail of golden sparks, exploding in a massive sphere of red and gold that lit up the night. The sparks became a red and gold Gryffindor lion in a ferocious roar. When it faded, a similar display followed for each of the houses and finally the Hogwarts school crest hovered above the sky.

While everyone watched the skies, Severus watched you. Eyes sparkling in the light of the fireworks, lips curved into that smile he delighted in. The way you held his hand in the darkness, sharing the moment together, even in secret.

Severus decided.

With a swift tug on your arm, Severus turned you around and pulled you against him. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, hand snaking around to the small of your back. Forgetting all about the fireworks, you leaned into Severus. You didn’t care if someone saw you, just as Severus didn’t seem to.

There was something different about this kiss, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. It somehow held more than your past intimate moments. More emotion, intent, care, more of everything Severus. When you finally broke away, he held your gaze, eyes filled with a resolve you’d never seen before.

“I love you.”

Severus’s voice was barely a whisper, and you felt the words more than you heard them. It didn’t diminish their strength in the slightest.

“Sev…”

“I have many things to tell you.”

Severus could never tell you everything, but he could tell you some things. You deserved all the truth he could afford.

“I want to hear all of it.” Maybe you weren’t expecting the story you would hear, but it didn’t matter. Nothing would change your mind - or your heart. “I love you, too, Severus.”

Abandoning the fireworks, Severus led you back to his quarters. He had every intention of giving you the truth he owed you, but maybe after one more kiss.

A reminder of what he would fight for in the times ahead.

#severus snape #pro snape #pro severus snape #professor snape #snape #snape fandom #harry potter #severus snape fluff #severus snape x reader #severus snape x reader fluff #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus x reader #pro severus #snolidays2023 #snapecelebration2023

84 notes · View notes

invinciblerodent · 4 months

Text

Another case of the "I'm not done"-s seems to have possessed me, because the immortality and rebirth of elven souls and this fucking elf/vampire!elf romance I'm doing right now is kind of ruining me.

Because, well... look.

This shit is ripe for angst.

For so long, there is no real reason to think much about the passage of time. Death, it's but an abstract far in the future- a bridge to be burned when they get to it. It's easy enough to practically forget that mortality is a thing to account for: with both the endless stretch of centuries they have and her body as unchanging as his, that thought can be kicked further down the road for what feels like it might even be an indefinite amount of time. Their lives just inch along, endlessly, and twine together like the roots of an ancient forest, building around- and with one another. Friends come and go, live and die, and yet, every moment, every day, is permeated by the other's presence: even in their "sleep", they're reliving shared memories (there is scarcely another kind, by now) while holding one another.

Talking about which of their adventures they chose to remember in Reverie is one of his favorite parts of the night.

Until one evening, as she opens her eyes to greet both him and the nightfall with a smile, he catches... just the faintest opaque, silvery glint in her pupils. It's barely a flash, gone in an instant, as if it was merely a trick of the light, but the thought, like a pesky insect, begins buzzing in his head. It will not let him rest.

With this new thought gnawing at him, he can't not see that there's almost a... strange distance, to her now. Even with this hazy half-awareness, it would have slipped his note if he hadn't come to know her quite so intimately over the past half millenium, if he hadn't memorized her cadence and heard her every loving thought as if it was his own. But he's attuned to her: even as her fingers glide through his hair, and her lips speak her words of love like they have so many times before, the same words, they... ring slightly hollow, robotic, automatic in their sweetness now, and once the dreaded Sun begins inching over the horizon and he's forced back into the shadows once more, her kiss goodbye lingers just one second longer, she holds him just a touch tighter before she'd be out the door.

All day, he circles the darkened room like a trapped animal, mind flush with thoughts of robotic words, silver glints, and a creeping dread. Surely, it cannot be what he thinks. It cannot. It wasn't a half-moon, it's not the Transendence, it was merely a... a reflection off something, moonlight bouncing off a silvered picture frame, or the twinkle of a magelight lighting the street glancing through an improperly closed curtain, a... a stomach bug that she's toughing out and is too stubborn to say anything about, something. It cannot be what he thinks, fears that it was.

The day drags on, the hour he'd expect her back comes and then passes, and when she returns, it is closer to sundown than it normally would be. Usually when she must leave for the day, she tries to time her return so that they can rest together, and then emerge from their chambers at the exact moment of nightfall to maximize the amount of time shared, the time he can walk free with her on his arm, but today, she returns with darkness on her heels, and bittersweet sorrow marring her face.

"Arael, we need to talk," she says, and the beloved endearment in their shared native tongue, 'heart' and 'hearth', 'center' and 'lover' in a single word, turns to acid in his ears. Instantly, he knows what she's going to say.

"How long have you known." It's not a question in tone, only phrasing- the hiss of his own voice feels alien in his throat. "When were you planning on telling me."

"It's been... a few days."

A few days. A few days, she's been...! He can't bring himself to think the word 'dying'. He can't. His knees give way under the weight of her words, and he crumples onto the nearest chair.

"You.... should have told me right away." He wants so dearly to be furious. His hands itch to rip, to tear, to destroy everything, his tongue aches to spit bile that'd make her feel exactly the pain he does in this moment... Gods, it was so easy to grow complacent and start believing in forever, to stop counting the hours, the days, the years, and still, it's her godsdamned near-forgotten mortality that's come knocking-- now, that his life is inexorably intertwined with hers, that she's been the other half of his soul for long enough to see the birth and death of friends and enemies, the rise and fall of monarchs, nations. And yet, her life's thread is soon to be clipped, while his must stretch on, infinite.

He buries his face in itching palms and swallows the bile to make room for the flood of grief. "I could have prevented this," he whispers now, "We could have had the chance, at forever... forever, if I could have turned you, if only I had-- if I--"

A soft hand on his shoulder stills him now. "Arael," she repeats, and traces a line to his chin, gently urging him to look at her. "I could not have dreamed of a more blissful, blessed life, than the one I shared with you. But--"

"Don't say it!" She winces as he snaps, and his hand is now grasping her wrist, insistent, hard enough to almost hurt, as he presses her palm against his cheek. "Don't, it's not over yet-- she may be calling, but you don't have to answer, you can stay--"

"I can't, my love."

"But--!"

"Arvandor is calling my soul, Astarion. The Gate is open. Sehanine has shown me; I must answer."

"But not yet, there's still time, you--!"

Her thumb gliding feather-light over his lips cuts off his desperate shout. "I have time enough to get my affairs in order," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I can delay it no longer than maybe another tenday. For now, please... simply be with me."

That night, they make love. Tender, aching love that leaves them both tearful in one another's arms- his whole body shakes, racked with heavy sobs as he buries his face in her chest, as if that way he could melt into her, to keep her here, keep her safe, keep her for himself, or... or follow her, anchor his soul to hers, stow away and smuggle himself into the afterlife that rejected him, so they can be reborn together, find one another again, have another six hundred years, and another, and another...

Hopeless. A fool's desperation, no more. There's no tricking the Seldarine: he had rejected rebirth in favor of this wretched, eternal half-life the moment Cazador's fangs sunk into his flesh so long ago now, and his soul was rent from Arvandor. There's no changing that now, no fighting it, and no putting it off longer either. So he kisses her through the sobs once more, makes love to her once more, and drinks deep from her once more, willing his tongue to carve this memory of her taste, her essence, her love as deep into his mind as it may.

She takes the promised tenday to get her affairs in order, and to set up all that may only be done during sunlit hours: she organizes herself a nighttime funeral, arranges for her assets to be dealt with as she may, and makes sure to hold him tight, to mourn with him as if she herself wasn't the one dying. And each night, she speaks sweet, reassuring nonsense of the permanence of memory, of rebirth, and the aching, heartrending beauty of gentle endings.

And once no more minutiae is left to handle, there is no more delaying the inevitable.

She is laid to rest in a modest ceremony, in a small circle of trusted friends, under the light of a waning moon.

He mourns, bitter and alone, for years- barely leaving his chambers out of necessity, flitting through the nights as a ghost not entirely unlike the one he was so long ago, until one evening he wakes to find the pain... bearable. There will quite possibly never not be a wound on his soul now, but even the deepest wounds, they scar over: there's new, tender flesh, pink and gnarled, stretching over the void of her absence now. And life, it continues as it does, relentless.

Decades pass. The new flesh, it toughens, thickens, until it can scarcely be seen, unless you know where to look for it: the loss now lives only in the absent-minded seeking of her warmth in his cold slumber, in the automatic gesture of taking two wine glasses from the cabinet only to set one back down; it lives behind the locked door of her untouched workshop and in the slip of parchment left between the yellowed pages of the book she had never finished reading.

Until one evening, shortly after nightfall, there is a knock, hard and insistent, on the door.

His body redies itself for a fight, as if a hunter might be so bold as to announce their arrival- but curiosity, it's too hard to resist, and he scarcely makes an effort.

It's... an elf. But not any elf- a woman, younger, taller, and fuller in figure than she was, and her hair, it's a tightly curled warm chestnut rather than her blood-red waves, but it's unmistakable: her features, they are exactly the same. The same fire amber eyes, the same freckles dotting her cheekbones, even the same raised mark at the edge of her jaw that sits there like an insect had folded its wings and chosen to make its home on her skin. And the stranger speaks, with her voice, before he could find his own.

"So you do live!" she says, equal parts disbelieving and relieved, "Or, well, something like that. I could tell that you were a vampire, from the-" she gestures vaguely to his face, "-fangs and all, but I still wasn't sure I'd ever actually find you."

There's... a prickle of understanding. It's her, but... not quite. Her soul. Her, but born anew. And she returned in a way, to reminisce, to meet him once more- and his mouth opens, but the words, wary and elated and tender at the same time, get lost on their way to his lips.

It's an imperfect replica of her laugh that leaves the woman's mouth. "Gods, don't gape at me like a beached carp like that! I've been seeing nothing but your damn face in my trance for decades now; I was looking for you, hoping you could answer some questions I have." The familiar stranger flashes her mischievous smile. "Can I come in? I feel we have a lot to talk about."

There is no love in this. But, there's nevertheless something... bolstering, in the unique opportunity he can present to the new owner of her soul: the opportunity to get to know, truly know, who she once was. Halting and strange as it may be, they do talk quite a long time, and when she leaves, it's with gratitude, and a short, awkward, one-armed hug that she bids her farewell.

And time stretches, infinite yet again.

As long as he may live, her soul, it continues seeking his across however many lifetimes, until one day, the strange elf finds the door in their hazy memories hanging off its hinges, and the home, collapsed and empty, maybe for decades now.

Occasionally, it is still said that in each generation, there may very well be an elf born whose soul feels an irresistible need to make a curious, solitary pilgrimage to the ruins of a city once known as Baldur's Gate, and hope against hope to find a pale man with red eyes wandering the empty streets.

And maybe, a woman who had once lived there so many centuries ago was right: there's an aching, heartrending kind of beauty in that.

#squirrel plays bg3 #squirrel writes #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #look it's the closest thing to actual fic that I've written in like 6 years #there needs to be a Cool Internet Slang Abbreviation for 'head in my hands'#i've decided right this second that i'm going to make it happen and just use 'himh'#himh take this away from me #i feel a weird urge to add just one or two more words because this is 2022 words it seems #but even though it's def not perfect i kinda don't want ot keep touching it #ANYWAY have quick and dirty and hastily written angsty fluff sometime far far far into the future

52 notes · View notes

genshin-scenarios · 1 year

Text

Adopt a Wanderer: Finale [Part 5]

Summary: Now that you've recovered from your cold, the both of you venture to a village in the outskirts for a weekend trip.

Note: This is meant to be a found-family series with Scaramouche, who you address as Kuni in this AU! Mostly meant to be interpreted as platonic.

Part 4 <<

Part 1

A few hours’ train ride away, you and Kuni find yourselves in a picturesque village known for their scenic views. Just a bike ride and you’ll get to the beach, and in another direction you find a field of flowers that stretches as far as the eye can see - a bit further more, there’s a market with fresh produce and crafted goods.

All in all, being here is truly therapeutic to the soul, down to the kind granny that runs the bed-and-breakfast that you’ve booked for the weekend. You learn that she’s been living alone for about a year now, and started this business as a way to keep busy - needless to say you and Kuni were quick to ask if you could accompany her tomorrow on her way to buy groceries, as both a way to get familiar with the village and help her carry bags.

Kuni sightsees in a way that makes you yearn for adventure; he turns in the direction of the wind when a breeze blows, and for a moment you can imagine him back in Teyvat as the Wanderer, travelling wherever he wished. Bittersweetness might be the word you associate with moments like these, knowing that at the end of the day, you were not cut from the same branch no matter how you’ve flourished since living together.

But so long as he’s happy, there’s nothing else you could think to wish for. Guardianship isn’t exactly your role now, but rather something close to being cherished friends. You can tell Kuni enjoys that more, too - leading you around to places that caught his interest, relaying new knowledge that you've never heard of...

Going at the same pace, living as companions - perhaps that’s something you’ve grown to appreciate more than you’d care to admit, considering how there’s always an aspect of him returning home.

Instead of brooding about it, you’ve decided to use this as an excuse to spend your days to the fullest; that way, you won't have too many regrets leftover.

To be friends with Kuni is to leave no unknown undiscovered. Not if there’s enough daylight to let your enquiries be taken by the wind.

“You youngsters really are too kind,” the granny that’s hosting the both of you accepts her bags with thanks. Before you can ask if there’s anything else to help with, she points towards the right of the street, giving you both a smile. “Over there is a path with stairs that leads up to a shrine. It’s covered by trees, but if you find the gap between them there’s a wonderful view of the flower fields, since we live on the edge of everything.”

True to her words, you and Kuni manage to find a window between the greenery where sunlight is filtering in. As he helps you push aside some branches to make room, the flowers below wash into view like a sea of dotted blooms. They’re a mix of colors, but what stands out most to you is how the afternoon light makes them look like they’re glowing.

Kuni looks up from the field, drawing his gaze from the marketplace and residential buildings, then further to the side where the ocean laid.

“Do you think the beach will be as beautiful as the rest of this place?” He thinks aloud, already trying to imagine how the sand and waves would look like from the tiny version here. “Back in… Back where I was from, there was a saying that when you picked up a conch shell and put it beside your ear, you could hear the ocean’s call.”

“Some other sayings claim that the sound is of home, or the voices of those that live miles and miles away.” You add, agreeing to go check out the beach if he’s game. “Let’s go see which one is true!”

By the time the both of you trek down to the beach, a good two hours have already passed; courtesy of a detour because you couldn’t resist the urge to check out the shops on the way. In your defense, Kuni was just as curious when you spotted stalls that were populated by locals, selling the most alluring offerings of food… One conversation led to another, and the Sun has dipped lower toward the horizon and is just starting to seep the sky in a rich orange. Not quite a sunset just yet, but certainly a more nostalgic time of the day.

It’s clear that the area is well-maintained when you notice the sand is void of debris. Even with your shoes on you can tell that they’re made of smooth grains, shaken and pulled by the waves in regular intervals. The search for a conch shell and other curious treasures occupy you and Kuni for a good amount of time, but you welcome the feeling of calm and quiet as you walk down your side of the beach - you’d expect to feel small and even lonely when looking out at a view that seems larger than life, yet it’s almost comforting to know that something this beautiful is real.

When you raise a shell to your ear to listen, you do make out a sound that feels different from your surroundings - it’s likely just some trick of physics, but seeing as you’ve come this far to find it, you consider this a token of success and dub it as the ocean’s call that Kuni mentioned earlier.

“Are you getting anything?” Kuni asks, holding his own shell next to his ear.

You nod, letting a bit of innocent delight take over the curve of your lips. “Yep! I think I can hear the ocean after all~ How about you?”

He pauses for a moment, shutting his eyes as if to listen again.

“Let’s see…” Kuni hums as he searches, but the only thing that echoes in his head are your words and your voice. In a way, his next words aren’t a lie at all. “I guess for mine, it’s something like the sound of home.”

Sharing warm dinners at your accommodation and chatting into the night will be a well-missed part of your trip; but as all good things must come to an end, you both board a train to return to the city on Sunday afternoon with some edible souvenirs in tow.

In settles the slump of a fun holiday coming to a close. It’s like a shared fatigue, in a way: you’re still enjoying the view that passes by through the window and the company of a good friend, but both you and Kuni are quieter during the ride as you contemplate on the things you ought to do when you get back, or what to have for dinner. Maybe Kyoho will even be there to greet you on the stairs as you approach your apartment building.

You’re admittedly a little sleepy from how the train is swaying, but you make it all the way back to your home without incident; everything is as you left it, and both you and Kuni greet the empty space with a quick “I’m back” - tired but happy.

After a quick shower you reconvene on the couch with a bowl of snacks and a store-bought bento you’d been saving from the trip, turning on the tv for some general entertainment while Kuni makes himself tea. It’s routine, maybe even a little mundane - but your sequence of habits is something that you’re quite proud to call your ‘new normal’ ever since Kuni joined your world.

“You almost made Granny cry earlier when you gave her our thank-you gift.” You smile, nursing your drink while you sit back and let the TV fade into background noise. An odd sense of gratitude grows in your chest, aching. “...I’m glad we got to go on this trip together. With how much you’ve grown into living here, I was starting to get a little worried that I’d never be able to impress you again,” you joke.

Kuni shakes his head, a light flush on his cheeks. It’s impossible to get drunk seeing as there’s no alcohol in sight, but you’re feeling a little lightheaded yourself from having been awake so long and getting a bit emotional into the night. “She’s not the only one I want to thank.” He starts, contemplating what to say. “I really enjoyed this trip - and just spending time with you in general. So while we’re doing this; thank you for everything.” Especially for finding me that one night. So many things might’ve been different if you hadn’t taken him in. “I’m really, really glad I met you.” He purses his lips, glancing away in embarrassment. “Because– You know. It’s good that we get along, and that I hopefully haven't been a nuisance while staying here.”

You can’t help but giggle at his fumbling, but your heart feels warm. The sound makes Kuni meet your eyes, and you’ve never felt more certain about offering to help him when he first arrived. “It’s seriously been great having you here. You’ve helped me a lot more than you might know.” You sigh, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling. Just by being around, he’s helped you become more assured of yourself; after all, what makes someone grow faster than by wanting to be reliable to another? “So don’t worry about imposing or anything like that. Even if you really do move on and stop living here, the door is open for you anytime.” Turning to give him a teasing look, your voice lilts as you mock-thoughtfully clarify: “–As long as it’s nothing illegal, of course.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t drag you into trouble like that.” Though his tone does soften, dark lashes fluttering as he fights against the urge to fall asleep. Your eyelids feel heavy, too - but you hear his sentiments clearly. “But still, thank you. ...Though we really should call it a night. You need the rest more than me.”

“We can just clean up the plates tomorrow.” You’ve given up on the idea of moving back to your room, pulling the blanket that’s covering your legs onto the rest of your body. It’s soft, and nice. Your thoughts really are starting to get hazy by now.

. . .

A quiet goodnight is muttered into the air. With you two passed out on the couch, it’s almost criminal to think that one day, Kuni will have to return to Teyvat.

Perhaps when that time arrives, whatever magic that took charge of this phenomenon might have the mercy of taking your memories away. At least then you may not be as burdened with the sharp feeling of loss that would otherwise leave its wound in your chest.

The next morning, you wake up just an hour before your alarm. It's a work day as usual, but at the very least you can spare yourself some prep time by eating some of the snacks from your trip as breakfast.

Wash your face, pack your bag, and out of the apartment you go. The cat that roams around the building greets you with a meow as you pass by, but a strong feeling of deja vu causes you to turn around sharply at the sound of leaves ruffling in the breeze.

…There's nothing out of the ordinary. The birds that nest in the tree above are chirping, the weather is relatively clear.

If so, why does it feel like something is missing? That you're forgetting something important?

Author's notes:

Thank you for reading my 'adopt a wanderer', series! It's been a concept that I wanted to write for a while, so I'm glad I managed to get this out to you all in the new year 💕

As for the ending, here are some things that I'll clarify!

Both reader and kuni have their memories blocked: not erased! They will continue to be blocked for now, and not be able to recall that any of this (Kuni being in another world) happened at all.

During the first few days, both Kuni and reader will feel that something's missing, but this feeling will eventually fade too while they settle back to their regular lives

Kuni has indeed been isekaied back to Teyvat during the night. But at the very least, they managed to have one last exchange of thank you's and I'm home, right?

Traces of him have either been replaced by other things in your world, or vanished completely. Think of it as similar to the convenient magic of Genshin being erased when he's nearby (and since he's gone now, it's back! Reader may gatcha and play once again 💙)

As for what happens to him after this… everything in canon still ensues, unfortunately. But maybe there'll be a surprise in the future that takes place in the sequel 😉 (which will be posted after a month or so)

UPDATE: sequel is done and posted here!

#genshin impact kunikuzushi #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer x reader #genshin balladeer #genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x you #balladeer x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #traveler wishes

287 notes · View notes

str0l0gy · 1 year

Text

ONE VOICE, TWO PHONES

IN WHICH riki messed up the relationship he had with you because of a dumb mistake. you saw how he tried to talk to you everyday but you turned down each attempted. until one afternoon he managed to convince you to keep talking to him by leaving voicemails for him. but only on one condition, he doesn’t get to talk back.

DAY 5. SNORES.

PREV MASTERLIST NEXT

1:11 A.M.

I’m so sorry I’m sending this so late… I don’t expect you to listen to this at this time but, if you are, get your ass to sleep. Anyway, Yawns. I finished studying for the exams, and I really didn’t mean to send this voicemail so late but…

You hesitate to continue your statement. His phone was next to his head on his bed as he listened to your voicemail. Your voice was raspy and low, the boy on the other side of the phone could hear you trying as much as you can to not fall asleep.

I would've sent this earlier if it wasn't for... this one person... Umm...

Riki didn't know if you were pausing because you were tired or because you didn't want to tell him. Whatever it was, it sure had him on edge. The mention of another person keeping you up made him feel uneasy; maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was sadness.

They asked me to go out with them after graduation, and I thought about it for like an hour before continuing to study. But, oh my God, I couldn't concentrate.

Your complaints were muffled, which hinted to the boy that you were dragging your hands down your face due to the stress. This reminded him of the times when you both were still unknowingly pinning for each other and you would Facetime him every night. You would tell him everything from your daily plans to your late-night thoughts. He learned the most of you through those Facetime calls. Your habits, your pet peeves, your likes... This is what helps him figure out how you feel through these voicemails. He found it crazy — going from daily Facetime calls to the bittersweet voicemails —.

Riki couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy and possessiveness over you because of his past with you. He hated the fact that he couldn't make you happy, but another person. But, who wouldn't fall for you? Riki understands the other person. You were the sweetest most beautiful person Riki has ever met.

I have not answered them yet... I feel… Yawns. Bad. I didn't leave them on read so they might think I'm... studying...or... sleep. You were dozing off.

He let out a low laugh, as he too was dozing off to the sound of your voice. Just like before.

I-... fuck... I'm falling as...sleep... Goodnight, Riki. I love... you...

Your snores filled his room as his breathing matched yours. It was like all of this never happened and you were sleeping next to him. Soon, your snores mixed with his, just like in the old times. Nostalgia is what Riki felt at the moment. He felt a weight, that he didn't know was there before, lift off his body. It was relief what he felt — like a breath, he didn't know he was holding, finally leaving his body. The three simple words that he would do anything to hear from you again, you finally said it. The war in his mind stopped with a simple phrase from you. He would do anything just for you to hear what he had to say.

"I love you too."

TAGLIST @sd211 @4imhry @theycallmeahumanoid @ihrtgyu @vlvtrkii @luvistqrzzz @rikilv @viagumi @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @jhopesucker @ixayjun

#enhypen #enhypen imagine #kpop #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen scenarios #angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen niki #niki x reader #nishimura riki

162 notes · View notes

m-mintyq · 2 years

Text

stolen sweaters

pairing : Will Byers x gn!reader, no pronouns mentioned

word count : 1.09 k

summary : you stole one of Will’s sweater sometime in the summer of ‘85. you only told him some time before he was moving, but he said you could keep it. Later when we go to California you bring it with you, which leads to a bittersweet nostalgia conversation because you put it on once you all got back after the trip to Rink-O-Mania.

warnings? : just fluff & mutual pining :]. very minimal swearing

a/n : I wrote this as a shifting scenario, so there's a mention of a birthday- so just pretend your birthday is before march. you may also pretend that it's a super late gift if your birthday is after march :') plus I'm taking this as my opportunity to insert my headcanon that Will helps Joyce around the house with tasks and stuff.

this is also my first time publishing something like this so be kind lol <3

“Is that my sweater?” Will said as he walked into his bedroom, checking on you.

“Sure is…I hope you don’t mind that I kept it this long.” you said, sliding your suitcase back away and sitting to face your friend.

“No, no, not at all…More surprised that you still have it” He said sitting by his desk, fiddling with his hands to distract from the awkwardness.

It’s not that it was awkward talking to each other, it’s just that there was some kind of tension in the room making both of you a bit nervous.

“Well I can’t really just throw it away, plus it’s a really nice sweater.” You remarked. True, you couldn’t throw away a sweater that didn’t even really belong to you and you would’ve felt awful throwing it away even if it was yours. And the sweater really was nice, it was comfortable, not like those itchy Christmas sweaters your grandparents would get you, but more like the ones that were warm, comfortable, had that old knitted look & feel all without itching.

“Doesn’t smell like you anymore tho.” You half-whispered without thinking as you began to fiddle with the sleeves.

“What?”

“Uhh..It doesn’t smell like you anymore. I remember finally wearing it after you’d moved because it was too hard to even put it on once you left and noting that it smelt like you.” finally looking up from each others distractions your eyes met, both wanting to break away because you had problems making eye contact, but the want to stay in the moment just made it feel like time froze.

“You…you know what I smell like?” It would’ve sounded creepy in any other context but it was nice in this one. While thoughts of worry and wanting to go back and shut up ran through your head, all Will could think about is how his heart got warmer at the idea of you longing for him and wearing the old sweater to feel closer to him.

“It- It sounds weird and creepy I- I know but-”

“No…I, I think it’s kind of sweet.” you were kindly cut off before you could dig yourself a hole even deeper.

“Soooo…you still got some on you for the sweater?” chuckling, you were referring to the scent of the sweater, as if Will just carried around a bottle of it.

“I- what do you want me to do with it- rub it on me?” he said giggling in-between words as he got up out of the chair, going to sit on the floor opposite you.

“I don't know! Whatever works I guess…Or I could just steal a new one.” joining in the laughing, you switched into a more comfortable position since sitting on your knees was proving to not be as nice as imagined.

“mmmh…I might have a nice one somewhere-” Will responded now shuffling closer to his wardrobe, opening a half empty drawer.

“No I wasn’t actually serious- I mean I can’t take ANOTHER sweater—”

“I’m fine with giving you one—”

“No Will I can’t, I already feel bad for having kept this one.” still set on not taking any more of your ‘friends’ clothes, your tone got firmer, a bit too firm for your liking but you had a trouble regulating your tone, plus it was too late to rephrase now.

Both of you paused for a moment, the silence letting you slip into overthinking, questioning whether you said something wrong- maybe you did say it too harshly? fuck did you make it too awkward? you probably sound stupid…what if you did something? does-

“What if…youuu…gave me back the old sweater…and I give you a new one?” Will prompted, pulling out a similar style sweater. “It should be practically the same.”

Pulled from your thoughts your eyes ran over the object in his hands, Wills eyes examining your expression from your peripherals. “You sure? It was really just a silly comment you don't have to.”

“But I want to. Take it as a late birthday gift”

“But you sent me a gift—”

“Doesn't matter, take it. Besides, sweaters look good on you.” Taking the sweater into your hands and examining it, you felt a flash of heat on your face, but hoping it wasn't too noticeable you sent your friend a smile.

Pulling Will into a hug, you dropped the sweater in your lap so you have both hands free. “Thank you.” Though this made you blush even more, to your dismay, you didn't really care, more focused on your ‘friend’ at the moment.

Will on the other side, though calm on the outside, was yelling on the inside. All positive of course.

It took him by surprise when you pulled him in, him having been so focused on your expression and reaction to the ‘gift’

Both of you just kind of sat there, not wanting to let go. It was kind of nice, feeling the warmth and comfort of each other, but with more time passing the tension of awkwardness grew too much to ignore. Conveniently, both of you awkwardly parted at the same time, not really knowing what else to do other than continue to sit in silence for a moment longer.

“So uhh…”

“Yeah I’m gonna just…put this away and…”

“I..I’ll see you, in the kitchen?” Will said half-stumbling to his feet and then to the door.

“Yeah..Yeah I’ll be there in a sec.” hurrying you pulled your backpack closer to you, zipped it open & carefully put it inside, avoiding the other things already in there. Putting the bag aside again, you got to your feet and hurried after Will.

You noticed Jonathan and Argyle sitting at the table, Murray and Joyce setting the table, while Mike and Jane nowhere in sight for now. Finally your eyes caught Will, speed-walking from kitchen to dining room, carrying plates, glasses, cutlery back and forth. Didn’t he leave his room like…just a minute ago?

You slipped into a chair next to Jonathan, him shooting you a dopey smile before turning back to Argyle. Soon enough the table was filled with food, Mike and Jane sulking in their seats, Will contently sitting opposite you, and Joyce running her last task before coming to sit down.

“Is that Will’s old sweater?” she said sitting down.

“Mom—” Will spoke out of embarrassment, already begun to poke at his food.

“Uhhh- yeah, it is.” You half-willingly responded, pointing your eyes down in your plate.

“Hm…It looks nice on you.”

#will byers #will byers x reader #will byers x male reader #will byers x male!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #will byers x you #mlm #mlnb #fluff #mutual pining #fanfic #oneshot #will byers fanfiction #will byers fluff

960 notes · View notes

minminyoonjii · 1 month

Text

#1 S-Class

[Stray Heart Untold Series]

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

💙Series Masterlist

🧭Next

🕯Summary:

Who knew rambling about a book you felt so passionate about could lead to an interaction like this.

🌹CW

Passionate Rambling|Honest Bickering|Wholesome|Dubious Ending

🍄Wordcount: 1K

"I like that one," a voice said behind you. Shivers ran down your back, "Ah, it's one of my favourites too," you said, confused on why you couldn't sense him. He chuckled, "It's unfortunate how it ends," he said, skimming through the array of books. You nodded in agreement, "Yeah," you sighed, rethinking the familiar ending. He grabs a book next to you, "What about it is unfortunate to you?" he asks, reading the book's back cover.

"It's just upsetting that she threw all that unconditional affection for something comfortable," you huffed, facing the voice. He nodded, "But the book didn't even portray his reaction to the betrayal," he added, subtly trying to arrogate your expression. You furrowed your eyebrows, "I know but think about realistically, would you like getting tossed away in a blink as such?" you asked, holding back a glare. He laughed, "Touche," he said, picking up another book.

You should've held back then but your thoughts split, "And besides, imagine giving up your all to someone and they just pull away because they were afraid," you grumbled before realising what you'd done. "Sorry," you blurted, covering your mouth. He shook his head, smiling, "There's nothing to apologise for, I admire that," he said, placing back the book he held. You raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue his train of thought.

He stifled a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, "I admire that you're passionate about what you believe in," he said, averting your gaze. Your cheeks burned, "Thanks, um," you said, hesitantly reaching out your hand. "Chan," he said, shaking your hand in response. You took a moment to eye his features, embarrassment running through you when you realised he was your exact type. He gulped, pointing at another book, "This one is less bittersweet," he said, breaking his hold on your hand.

You giggled, noticing his burning ears, "Well, thank you once again, kind sir," you said, bowing slightly. He chuckled, "The pleasure was all mine, my lady," he said, playing along. Your giggles echoed between the bookshelves, creating an atmospheric moment. "Are you here often?" he asks, curious as to when he could see you again. You nod, "Every alternate day from Monday," you say, holding the book you chose.

He beamed, "Great, till then, my lady. It looks like I'm needed elsewhere," he said eloquently. You giggled, "I had fun conversing with you, Sir Chan," you said, waving as he stepped back. "As did I, my lady," he said, waving back. "Holy shit," you whispered, feeling your heart pound from your chest. Jisung leaned against the shelves, "Who the hell was that?" he teased, a smirk etched on his lips. You flinched, "A stranger that liked the book," you huffed, walking past him.

Jisung's smirk grew wider, "Wait, the book? The one you couldn't stop rambling on about?" he laughed. You rolled your eyes playfully, "The exact one," you said, feeling a twinge of pride. "I mean as long as you didn't scare the poor man away, you might still have a chance before Valentine," Jisung said, ruffling your hair. You glared at him, "It's not like that, he's just interesting," you mumbled, tightening your hold around the book.

Jisung sighed, "For a hero, you really do wear your heart on your sleeve," he said, shaking his head. "What's wrong with that?" you mumbled, crossing your arms. Jisung laughed, "Everything, imagine a hero forgetting their responsibilities after getting stood up at a blind date," he pointed out. You scoffed, "That was one time and it was only a D-class heist, I wasn't even needed on scene," you sulked, defending yourself. "Yeah, yeah," Jisung chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully.

A sigh escaped your lips, "I just want to fall in love, is that too much to ask," you said, setting the book down on the counter. Jisung pursed his lips, "I mean in this economy, you're better off getting into a contract relationship with Cheon-sa," he teased, opening the sign-out book for you to record. "Oh, and let me guess. We own three locations, one each and a shared one for family," you said, smiling at the ridiculousness of it all.

Jisung snapped his fingers, "Exactly, and no offence darling but his type has cock," he said, tucking his hair back with both his hands. You busted out into giggles, "Yeah, and the type that is slightly above average with a slight curve at the tip and is girthy enough that your hands can't wrap around it," you teased, laughing harder at his appalled expression. "Well, fuck you for listing my best friend's type like a diner order," Jisung said, faking a scoff.

You jutted your bottom lip, going behind the counter to hug him, "Aww, come on," you whined. He chuckled, biting his bottom lip, "Fine, I'll keep it a secret. But if you piss me off again, I’m using this as blackmail material," he grinned, petting your head. You giggled, "Deal," you cheered, squishing his cheeks. He whined, "Now the get fuck off me," he cursed, glaring at you. You smiled, grabbing a truffle from his chocolate stash, "Thank you, thank you," you sang, running out of the store. Jisung gasped, "I spent money on those!" he exclaimed, standing up.

He sighed, pushing back his hair, "She's lucky I care about her well-being," he mumbled, walking towards the book cart. "Hello, love," someone said, wrapping their arms around Jisung's waist. "This is getting bad," Jisung chuckled, leaning back into the person's chest while rearranging the books. The person chuckled, "Oh? What do you mean by that?" they asked, nuzzling their face against Jisung's neck.

"I no longer flinch when you hold me by surprise," Jisung said, squirming from how ticklish it felt. "Isn't that a good thing?" the person asks, kissing Jisung's temple. Jisung sighed, "It's bad when your bookstore is the safety hub for Seoul's SS-class hero," he explained, turning to face Minho's cheek grin. Minho cooed, "You and I both know, this bookstore is off-limits for hero/villain rivalry," he said, stroking Jisung's cheek.

"I know but it's in my nature to worry, I practically raised her," Jisung groaned, burying his face into Minho's chest. "She'll be fine, love," Minho reassured, patting Jisung's hair. "But what if," Jisung mumbled, peeking up. Minho cooed, "She has more villains taking care of her than you think," he whispered, placing a kiss on Jisung's forehead.

36 notes · View notes

yanfeisty · 1 year

Note

Congrats for the 400 followers! SFW 2 + Cyno ? (mind if I send another one with Alhaitham later haha)

— PROMPT : Well, I guess I simp for you too, your grace. Prompt event.

— A/N : Thank you! I got so much followers since that event, I really appreciate it.

— CW : Religious themes.

"For the third time, there's nothing wrong with you, Cyno." Tighnari sighed, for the last few days, Cyno came to see him multiple times about his supposed symptoms that he developed, despite Tighnari assuring he wasn't sick or anything.

"It isn't normal, my pulse is going unusually fast, like it's threatening to burst out, and I also feel a constant tingling in my chest."

"Let me guess, it happens at specific moments?"

Cyno thought about it for minute. It wasn't always, when he was doing his work he was his usual self, until you came to pay him a visit, that's when his heart felt like he ran throughout the desert. And also, during your last visit before this one, he had difficulties to let words out, when you were giving him non-stop compliments, just like the time before that, and before, and before...Now that he thought, he only felt weird with you, perhaps it was because of how comfortable and caring you were that made him felt strange, usually people were scared of him, or maybe was it your dazzling smile which gave him more warmth than the sun, could it be your voice that make him as weak as the criminals who heard his?

"C'mon, wake up." Tighnari flickered his forehead after long minutes passed.

"Huh...I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"I noticed that."

"It only happens when I'm with Y/n...I think I start to get it."

"How are you able to read through others and know if someone lies but be so oblivious to yourself?!"

⠀

It was in that moment, he realized he fell for you, but he wasn't to blame, he never felt that before, love in this way was unfamiliar for him, his usual composed self was uncontrollable with you.

The bittersweet feelings were bearable, but now he could only wonder on how were you feeling about him, it was a difficult situation, he wasn't scared of rejection, but maybe you'd be uncomfortable if he confessed, Tighnari encouraged him to declare his feelings for you. So, one day, after long practices, he finally found the control of himself back, unafraid to confront you.

"Can I ask you a question?"

You nodded, for once that he was initiating the conversation, he always seemed anxious with you but now he looked so confident, and so hot, but you'd keep that for yourself.

"When you were using my body, I could hear your voice, and I recall that you said that you were 'simping for me', may I ask what it meant?"

Your cheeks turned all shades of red, what were you supposed to say to the Mahamatra, that you wouldn't mind if he arrested you? That you would thank him if he stepped on you? You looked everywhere but at his stare, trying to search what to say.

"I won't take any offense if you don't want to respond." His confidence dropped a bit, cursing himself about asking and making you anxious.

"It means, hm. I admire you a lot, like you're so hand- cool, cool and I want to spend time with you."

You tried to hide your blush, missing the small smile on his face, just by your behavior he understood a little better the meaning. He might not understand feelings well, but he can always see through others.

"Well, I guess I simp for you too, your grace."

⠀

"Ah, so you finally confessed, I'm happy for you."

"Yes, you were right, Tighnari, I wasn't sick I just had simptoms."

"Oh my Archons.."

#400yanfevent #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #Sagau #genshin creator au

311 notes · View notes

phoeebsbuffay · 5 months

Text

Imagine Star Wars special edition: movies (III)

• The Lake House.

Imagine this is a modern world where you are a teacher trying to get some peace of spirit after a very long year, so you rent this house whose locations places you next to no other than…Anakin Skywalker. Part I.

Warnings: fluffy; drama, long post.

Recommendations: “Champagne Problems” by Taylor Swift.

***

“I think you should rest, my dear”, so advises you the recently incorporated to the docent body Obi-Wan Kenobi, a retired academic teacher whose past—if rumours ought to be taken with careful consideration—is linked with the rise of the Sith Mafia that rules the country nowadays. He’s been your advisor ever since he was admitted at school due to common tastes, which got you very good friends. “You’ve been working too hard.”

It’s one of these days where there is no one at school—every student is gone to enjoy the winter break—but you must be there because the principal said so. Few meetings already occurred, so you honestly don’t get why you and your fellow teachers are not released off your duties.

“I cannot, and you know why.”

“You can, missy. Don’t be so headstrong. I can talk to the principal and the secretary”, says Obi-Wan. “You are exhausted. You barely have any shine behind these y/c eyes of yours.”

It does occur you that you haven’t been out with your friends since final exams started. You sigh, ceding to his insistence.

“You know me too damn well”, you grumble with a smile painting your lips.

He smiles back at you.

“I’ve been there, done that too. Hence why I’m here after all.”

You feel tempted to ask that question and perhaps Obi-Wan waits for it, but you swallow your curiosity, dismissing it as being a business not yours to mind.

“I appreciate it, Ben. But where might I go? I have no idea where else I could rest.”

You watch as Obi-Wan strokes his ginger beard, thoughtful.

“Have you considered renting a lake house?”

***

Anakin tastes the bittersweet flavor of silver bubbles of his glass, dissociating again as another feast is offered by President Palpatine. Men dressed in their fancy robes surround the older man in search for further favours all the whilst many women tried to attract the attention of his closest—and certainly younger—advisors, Anakin included.

He refuses any attention, finding champagne a more suitable company for his unresolved issue concerning his broken heart.

Jokes here and there roll from men’s lips, flirtation coloring the illusion scene he’s now in. Music is too melancholic to dissipate the attempts of the group of the mafia to amuse themselves.

Another champagne glass is offered. Anakin promptly takes.

“Lord Vader”, Lord Maul comes at him. “Are you not finding this feast of your liking?”

“I would rather be somewhere else where I am not considered fucked in the head for people who do so constantly”, so is his bitter, nearly rude but crude response.

Maul smiles awkwardly.

“I suppose even you deserve a rest, my friend. We’ve worked too hard. If you feel like resting, I shall cover your shift. Pretty sure he won’t find out”, the Sith Lord says in reference to Palpatine.

Anakin knows alcohol is taking the reins of his reasonable and, using his ex’s own words, ambitious self, therefore he shrugs his shoulders and says:

“Yeah, I might do that. Thanks, my dude.”

Again, Maul smirks uncomfortably. Grabbing another champagne, Anakin leaves discreetly, rewinding in his mind the moment he would propose Padmé.

They were both aligned in thoughts and expectations, but the night he booked a train to meet Palpatine, a choice, albeit unconscious, was made. And when they were meant to dance in celebration for his promotion, she dropped his hand and left him in silence threat.

Another sip.

But memories came. When Anakin met Padmé’s family and shared their plans. But there was a skeptical reaction, and his speech died before reaching his bride.

One more sip.

The flavor would not dismiss from his mind her words, calling him names that, funny now, he could not remember.

And suddenly in the car, Anakin yells. The driver doesn’t look nor checks at him, aware he has his moments when drinking.

Of course, he left her standing. He dropped her hand one last time, taking with him his mother’s ring.

And now he drowns in endless champagne glasses, not willing to admit the path he took was one no sensible individual would take.

***

The region suggested by Obi-Wan is one very quiet with few houses. The lake is clean, with no wild animals to scare you. Luckily for you, unwilling to interact with neighbors, it appears most of the lake house’s owners are absent: winter is hardly the season for the usual gathering in such places.

As someone who is very fond of nature and the silence that comes with it, you instantly smile and promptly write a message to Obi-Wan.

“It’s perfect. Thanks- Y/Nickname.”

You cross a small entrance that leads the way to the house. Atypically, it’s made of glass—which might mislead to an idea of exposure, but you know this is easily fixed by the use of courtins—and has two floors. It’s simple and practical, and the view to the lake is just… perfect.

You are quickly getting your stuff inside when you hear a male voice nearby:

“Do you need any assistance there?”

The voice comes to your ears in a crawling, husky whisper that makes a shiver running over your spine. As you turn with a heavy box in your hands, you spot a handsome stranger standing not too far from you, respecting the limits that divide your house from his.

He is taller than you and his eyes are painted with such charming blue irises that you are speechless for a moment. You promptly clear your throat, hoping the man doesn’t notice his presence impacted you, but judging by his smirk it appears he did notice.

“I’m all right, thank you”, you think prudent to dismiss his good will in helping you, after all you two are strangers.

Anakin sees the distrust in your body language. After the whole thing with Padmé, he’d normally stay away and never again you’d see him, but these are other circumstances. He certainly is sober anyway and is eager to be around a new face after all those years with the same old ones.

Not to mention he thinks you are too beautiful to waste an opportunity in having a glimpse of your pretty features.

“I insist”, he says gently. “I’m Anakin, by the way. Anakin Skywalker.”

Somehow his name rings a bell, but you don’t know where. You carefully stand a hand for him to take and shake.

“Anakin, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N. What brings you here?”, he asks as he helps you with two heavy boxes that you brought to the house. “And my God, what did you put here?”

You chuckle, appreciating his help.

“Thanks, Anakin. I needed some time to rest, honestly. I came from Y/C. And these are only the things I judged necessary to bring here. I intend to spend just two weeks.”

“Hmm. Big city, of course I’ve heard about it.” He tilts his head, scanning your moves as if he’s studying you. “Running away from something, eh?”

Anakin chuckles in turn and you join him.

“Oh if you call enjoying a break running away, then it’s only momentarily, I’m afraid.”

Leaning against the wall that stands as a division between kitchen and living room, Anakin watches as you simply sit down.

“What do you work with, if I may ask?”

He observes as you make a bun with your messy y/c locks. By how you smile shyly he can tell how introverted you are.

A curious contrast to Padmé, he cannot help the comparison.

“I am a teacher. But enough about me”, you stand and head to the kitchen, aware his eyes follow you. “What about you, Anakin? What do you do for living? Do you live here, by the way? Or…”

And here, when you turn your gaze to meet his, the next words rolling out of your tongue would impact greatly in the next greetings between you two.

“…are you a fugitive like me?”

***

Each night, this stranger named Anakin Skywalker comes by. You and him share experiences and memories, all followed by a beer. A bond is starting to form, but you are somewhat bothered by this mystery aura that surrounds him.

“I sense your hunter’s eyes judging me”, Anakin smirks to himself.

You and him are sitting together before the firepit, chairs close, short distance from one to the other. His eyes are closed and yet he is very observing. You chuckle, relieved at last that he is not seeing you blushing.

“Not judging.”

“What then?”

You don’t know what to respond, so silence is your best defense. Anakin opens his eyes and stares at you, noticing you are hugging your knees, the very embodiment of innocence he’d not seen in years.

He senses what’s behind your thoughts. However, he opts to make it about you instead.

“Have you ever had your heart broken?”

You side eyes at him, with an expression he cannot read well, though there is something attractive in how the shadows of the flames dance in your face.

“I have”, you admit. “Not beautiful like the songs want to portray in melodramatic lyrics.”

“It is painful”, Anakin agrees. “Yet have you considered we may the reason why our hearts are broken in the first place?”

You ponder what he wants to mean but, not reaching to anything satisfactory, you shake your head. Not noticing how your fingers are subtly intertwined with his, your eyes are now glued in Anakin’s.

“We project what could have been in the objects of our affections. There’s so much expectation that leads us into this madhouse where we want to feel every inch of it. But shadows are, like certain philosopher pointed out, our worst doom.”

“That is deep”, you muse with no thinking. “What happened?”

“We were not ready to move forward, I suppose”, and just like that he drops your hand, much to your silent consternation.

You don’t say anything. Anakin waits for a response, but when looking again at you he knows what to read in your serene semblance. Two weeks and a little more, and an attachment has flown.

Fear leads to suffering. And hasn’t he been plagued by his own champagne problems? Yet, where has his champagne gone for the last couple of days?

“I don’t like your silence”, says Anakin, sounding more anxious than he cares to admit. “Have I disappointed you, Y/N?”

“I was merely wondering”, you flee from the question posed, “how hard can be picking up the pieces left by somebody else. But one must be ready to glue each by each.”

“You are the poet now”, he side smirks. “You sound convicted.”

“And you lack convictions, it appears”, the words come in a burst.

“Perhaps you are not entirely wrong.”

Something about his words annoy you. Quietly as usual, you make your leave and even before the fire, Anakin is left to the cold.

***

He knows where to find you. In mute steps, Anakin crosses the divisores from your house to his. You are sitting with your feet on the cold water with a cup of coffee in your hand and well dressed up.

Anakin hesitates at first. Never comfortable with crowds or awkward silences, never too friendly with his own pain, he finds in you something better that his wrecked conscience is unworthy for.

Every speech dies unspoken when you seem to stand.

I cannot let you go.

He knows you are about to return to your daily life. Your routine awaits.

“Y/N”, Anakin comes to you at long last.

You are startled by his presence, clearly not expecting his arrival.

“Ani”, you stand.

As the wind howls around you two, your remaining coffee instantly gets cold. But the warmth between you two only grows.

“I was a coward. I forgot my convictions for a moment, a wrong I intend to amend. Fear leads to anger and anger leads to suffering. We both, I dare say, have been in pain.”

He takes a moment to breathe. Your lips are already curling upon a gentle smile when he presses over them one finger.

“And before I amend, I must say I haven’t been entirely honest with you. My sweet Y/N, you don’t know my whole story. I am known as the Sith Lord, Darth Vader.”

(To be continue)

#star wars #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #Anakin Skywalker x female reader #Taylor swift #champagne problems

30 notes · View notes

yetanothersparrowofthedawn · 4 months

Text

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwriter was close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see in other chapters). They find themselves forced to share a space once more as they the hardship of a lifetime.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Track: Hits Different (3 months prior) coming soon..

Chapter soundtrack: Beautiful people with Beautiful Problems – Lana Del Rey

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Blue is the color of the planet from the view above Long live our reign, long live our love Green is the planet from the eyes of a turtle dove 'Til it runs red, runs red with blood. We get so tired, and we complain 'Bout how it's hard to live It's more than just a video game. But we're just beautiful people with beautiful problems, Beautiful problems, God knows we've got them But we gotta try Every day and night.

Alright, let’s get into this.

_____

The sterile white walls of the corridor seemed to close in on Jake as he sat in the rigid chair, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. A million thoughts raced through his mind. It had been eleven agonizing hours since chaos had come to him in the form of a simple phone call, yet the passing of time felt immeasurable.

His eyes remained fixed, unblinking, as if trying to anchor himself in a reality that slipped further away with each passing moment. The incessant ringing in his ear was interrupted only by the distant sounds of the hospital—monitors beeping rhythmically, nurses’ distant footsteps, and the low hum of neon lighting.

Meanwhile, Josh hadn’t stopped pacing around, his every step echoing the restlessness within. His vibrant energy, which usually animated stages, now manifested as a desperate plea for time to reverse its relentless march.

In this tense atmosphere, Danny had accompanied Karen to the chapel just a floor down. The chapel offered solace and a quiet refuge, a place where they could seek a moment of respite amid the chaos.

It was then, after hours of solemn silence, that Josh's voice cut through the stillness, a sudden and stark interruption to the quiet.

"…?" his voice echoed in the hall, a call that hung in the air like a fragile thread. Jake, coming out of his daze, strained to make out the words. Whipping his head around, he was met with the sight of Josh's back, frozen in place. He tilted his head, trying to get a proper look at what had left his twin in such a state.

"H-how did you-?" Josh said, his words carrying a weight of both surprise and longing. That's when Jake caught a glimpse of her silhouette approaching.

There she was, as if materializing from the depths of his subconscious. Y/N. Hair soaked with rain; she stood pale against the stark hospital lighting. Her presence was almost surreal, a bittersweet mirage in the bleak environment.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said after a moment, her words a soft cadence that carried a hint of nervousness. Jake's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice, a melody from another time.

She stopped a few feet away from the twins, a fragile bridge of unspoken emotions spanning the gap between them. The air thickened with a mixture of uncertainty.

Josh, unable to contain his emotions, immediately sprang forward, his movements a cascade of relief. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, as if afraid she might vanish if he let go. Jake watched as his brother mumbled words, too weak to be discerned. His head was buried in the crook of Y/N's neck, seeking solace in the familiarity of her presence.

She had been sorely missed, and her arrival was a balm to the collective ache that had settled within the Greta boys. A familiar face offering the comfort they had greatly needed.

Josh eventually let go of her, his grip reluctantly loosening. She caressed his face gently. With a pivot, she turned her attention to Jake, who still sat there, dumbfounded, unable to find the right words. His throat felt dry, the echoes of the past and present proving to be too much for his brain to register.

"It's good to see your face," Y/N said in a hushed, uncertain voice, her eyes locked onto his. The air hung heavy. She noticed the weariness in his eyes; he noticed the hint of tears in hers.

Jake found himself unable to form a response, his mouth hanging open for a few seconds. Coming to the rescue, Josh broke the heavy silence.

"I'll go get Ma’ and Danny. They'll be happy to see you, Y/N," he said, offering a gentle smile. It was an eerie thing, seeing Josh so- subdued. He turned on his heels and disappeared behind the fireproof doors, leaving YN and his brother alone in the echoing hallway.

Jake's gaze returned to the floor, a myriad of emotions churning beneath the surface. Y/N, on the other hand, looked up at the ceiling, blinking away a couple of tears that threatened to spill over. The silence was thick, punctuated only by the distant sounds of hospital activity.

Y/N took a hesitant step forward, bridging the physical and emotional gap that had widened over the past two years.

"So," she paused, her voice betraying a palpable nervousness, "How is he?" she eventually asked, the weight of her words suspended in the hushed air,

"Uh," Jake bit his lower lip nervously, "he—he’s stable." A tense pause followed, the unspoken fears lingering between them, “he’s not in the ICU anymore.”

"Can we see him?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jake responded.

"Can I…?" she hesitated, her question trailing off, an unsaid plea hanging in the air.

"Sure, yeah,” Jake nodded as he got up, “it’s- huh, it’s right over there." Jake led her to the door of the room, but stopped with his hand on the handle, a moment of hesitation in his movements. "Just- be prepared," he started, his words laden with a heavy solemnity, "he’s—" He refrained from finishing, the unspeakable truth too much to articulate. Yet, in that shared silence, she understood. It was bad.

He opened the door, and with a gentle gesture, let her enter first. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight that greeted her. Instinctively, she turned back around. Her eyes squeezed shut as if to shield herself from the harsh reality within the room.

An echo of uncomfortable familiarity lingered as YN fought with the instinct to bury her head in Jake’s chest for comfort.

In the old days, that's what she would've done, a reflex born from the intimacy they once shared. But now, the gap between them was more than physical. She didn't turn to him for solace, and he refrained from offering it.

His own hand discreetly flexed with tension. He would've instinctively wrapped his arms around her in a silent promise that everything would be okay. A gesture as natural as the rhythm of their heartbeats.

But it wasn't the old days anymore.

They just stood there, facing each other, neither of them certain of how exactly to navigate those newfound boundaries.

Her labored breathing, the only sound accompanying that of the machines behind her, served as a painful punctuation to the heavy silence.

The irony didn’t escape them—the boy lying in the hospital bed, in any other circumstance, would've been the one to make a snarky remark about the awkward nature of the situation. But now, the absence of his humor left nothing but a void.

After a beat, Jake settled for a simple nod of acknowledgment. Y/N nodded back. Time to be brave. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and finally turned back around.

The sight was just as jarring the second time around, a heart-wrenching contrast to the memories she held so dear. He laid there, connected to endless machines, a shadow of the vibrant person she’d always seen.

As Y/N reached the bedside, her throat tightened with emotion. She delicately reached out to brush a strand of hair away from the boy’s pallid features.

"Hi, Sammy," she whispered with a quiver of her lips.

The room became a time capsule, holding the echoes of their past — a place where everything they’d gone through still lingered, if only in the recesses of memory.

Karen suddenly stormed into the room; her entrance heralded by the determined click of her boots on the hospital floor. Following closely behind were Josh and Danny.

“Y/N, honey,” Karen exclaimed tearfully as she opens her arms wide. The sight of her long-lost daughter had brought an immediate welling of emotion.

“Mrs. Kiszka,” Y/N said, her own eyes shimmering with tears, instantly engulfed in Karen’s bone-crushing hug. "I'm so glad to see you."

“You shouldn’t have flown in, pumpkin, I read you’re a busy bee." Karen continued, pulling back slightly but still holding Y/N at arm's length, "Kelly and I saw you on TV just the other day. Here, let me get a good look at you." She took Y/N’s face in her hands, concern etched on her features. "Are you sleeping properly? You know—"

“Karen, do you mind?" Danny interrupted, a laugh escaping YN’s lips at Mama Kiszka’s rapid-fire questions.

“Danny,” Y/N smiled, turning to the drummer.

“Hey, stranger,” Danny greeted her with a warm hug. They exchanged a knowing smile as they separated.

“Aren’t you tired?” Karen resumed her rapid inquiries, “The flight from the city is no piece of cake. And you must be starving, too! Let’s go get you some food-”

“Ma,” Josh interjected, taking charge, “why don’t you take a seat?” He quickly brought a chair from the corner of the room for his mom to sit in.

"Right,” said Danny, “You three stay here, YN and I will go to the cafeteria to get everyone some snacks,” he suggested. He ushered Y/N out of the room, giving the Kiszkas a moment of privacy.

__________

In the hospital corridor, Danny and Y/N silently made their way to the cafeteria, the sterile lights casting a harsh glow on the linoleum floor.

“Is Ronnie flying in?” Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice a tentative breach of the awkward quietness. She’d been surprised by the absence of the one Kiszka sister.

“Yeah, she should be here tomorrow,” Danny responds, his gaze fixed on the patterned tiles beneath their feet.

“She must be so worried,” Y/N remarked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“We all are,” Danny admitted, tense.

As they approached the cafeteria, the low hum of voices and the clatter of trays provided a backdrop to their conversation.

Y/N noticed a cluster of people gathered inside. In a practiced move born from several years of experience, she swiftly pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. It had become a routine, a shield against the prying eyes and unwanted attention that often accompanied her public persona.

Y/N was acutely aware of the potential for added stress and intrusion that her presence might bring. She'd been through enough to know that sometimes fame doesn’t only attract well-wishers.

“So, how are you doing?” Y/N asked, trying to navigate the conversation away from the heaviness of the present moment, “apart from this, of course. How’s the family?”.

Danny, for a moment, allowed a genuine smile to soften his features. "We're hanging in there," he responded.

The mention of family opened a door to a broader conversation, a chance for them to discuss the mundane aspects of life amidst the current turmoil. Danny shared snippets of their busy lives, mentioning the band's ongoing recording sessions.

Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he continued, "But clearly we haven’t been nearly as busy as you, Miss Time Magazine’s Songwriter of the Year." His playful tone carried a gentle mocking of the prestigious title she had been awarded just a week prior.

“Oh, you saw that?” Y/N stuttered in surprise, looking down in embarrassment. “It’s nothing, really, just some silly—”

“Hey, now, not to me, okay?” Danny playfully nudged her, and she smiled in response. “Come on, it’s pretty huge. We’re all proud of you.”

“Thanks, Danny.” Y/N said, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.

The conversation pivoted to the challenges of her newfound prominence. Y/N opened up about the overwhelming press attention she'd faced over the past couple of years. She’d always been quite popular, even before they’d first met, but her album sales had soared to new heights, and with that success came a deluge of PR work.

Ironically, her music had blossomed even more since Jake and her had called it quits, her songs becoming a canvas for her struggle.

The world seemed terribly entertained by her personal misery; forever eager to dissect every lyric and interview for clues about her private life. Her fanbase had slowly descended into madness trying to figure out who had managed to damage America’s Sweetheart this much.

The boys were among the few people on earth who held the key to decoding every verse and every chorus she'd written. There was never a chance to hide behind designer stage outfits and photo-op smiles when they were around. They knew what lay underneath it all.

Y/N had sought solace in moving away, believing her secrets would be hers alone. However, the vulnerability she’d tried to escape was now staring back at her in the familiar faces of the musicians she’d shared years of her life with.

Y/N and Danny weaved through the various stations, their hands slowly filling with a mix of drinks and snacks.

Still engaged in conversation, Danny offered heartfelt compliments on Y/N's recent albums, a sentiment he was glad to finally express in person.

Y/N resisted the urge to ask whether the whole band had listened to her recent works. Her songs had after all told a carefully crafted tapestry, woven with the threads of their shared narrative. Yet, a hesitance held her back and she decided not to ask, hoping to spare Danny from anymore awkwardness.

Amidst the array of snacks, the drummer’s hand instinctively reached for a bag of chocolate pretzel sticks. There was a subtle pause, a fraction of a second when realization rippled across his expression. Y/N caught the fleeting moment but chose not to comment, her throat closing.

Sam’s favorites.

The elephant in the room no longer possible to ignore, Danny broke the silence. "He'll probably wake up, soon enough." His words a quiet acknowledgment of the uncertain path ahead.

Y/N sensed the drummer’s struggle to maintain composure in the face of his best friend's current condition. In a silent show of solidarity, she squeezed his hand. “Of course,” she murmured. Of course.

__________

A few hours later, in the crowded waiting area, a lady from the hospital staff approached, holding a bag containing Sam's recovered belongings from the car wreck. The atmosphere was heavy as she listed the items.

"…and there's also a jacket as well as someone's wallet," she finished, her expression sympathetic. The mention of the last item piqued the curiosity of the gathered family members.

" ’A’ wallet?” Karen inquired, her concern shifting momentarily to the peculiar discovery, “Whose wallet?"

The lady glanced at the contents of the bag before answering, "A certain Johnny… B. Goode."

The name hung in the air for a moment before a ripple of recognition passed through Y/N, Jake, Josh and Danny. Their faces lit up with nervous laughter, uncontrollable and infectious.

Oh, Sammy, they thought.

Back when he was still underage, Sam had scored himself a fake ID from some sketchy old man in Detroit, and for some reason, he’d picked 'Johnny B. Goode' as his alias. He thought it was simply brilliant and he carried the name proudly as they went out drinking and partying on their first few tours. Apparently, he’d never gotten rid of the damn thing.

Tears started gathering in Y/N’s eyes as she clutched her stomach from the sheer hilarity of the situation. The boys joined in, their semi-contained laughter echoing through the hallway.

The absurdity of finding the relic of Sam's youthful eccentricities in such a serious situation had been the breaking point of their sanity. You’d almost think Sam had planted it there for that very purpose. Karen, bewildered by the sudden outburst, repeated her question, "Whose wallet is it?"

Amidst the laughter, Y/N managed to compose herself enough to blurt out, “I think you’ll need to see that one for yourself, Mrs. Kiszka.”

Karen grabbed the bag and opened the wallet, a look of confusion on her face as she laid her eyes on the photo of what appeared to be her youngest son at the ripe age of 18, peach fuzz and all.

“That’s-” she started.

“Johnny B. Goode,” Josh cut her off.

“The one and only,” Jake finished, a slight smile on his face.

Karen sighed, taking a closer look at the thing. “Born 1958, huh?” she shook her head with a smile, “you kids…”

The family continued to giggle uncontrollably, finding comfort in the shared memories of simpler times. To onlookers, they might have seemed like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown, but heaven knows it was a much-needed break from the tension.

__________

In the sterile, dimly lit hospital, the passage of time was marked by the monotonous ticking of a clock. The family had endured about 15 more hours filled with bad coffee, back-breaking naps, and the mind-numbing task of counting ceiling tiles. The weight of worry still hung in the air, making every passing moment feel like an eternity.

As the fatigue settled in, Y/N decided to break the stagnant routine. Standing up, she announced, "Alright, I'll go get you all some clean clothes." Her gaze shifted to the boys, a practical concern in her eyes. "Somebody give me their keys. I took a cab here from the airport."

Jake visibly tensed, ready to intervene, but Josh beat him to it.

"You shouldn't be driving,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm gently “It's dark out, and raining."

"I'll be fine, don't worry," she reassured him.

"Let one of us drive you," Josh insisted, the unspoken concern for Y/N evident, given the circumstances of Sam's accident.

« Honey, you haven’t slept in almost three days straight, » she retorted, « I think I’m our safest bet here. »

The strained air was palpable as Josh, a pillar of concern, suggested, "One of us should come with you, at least."

Determined, Y/N dismissed the idea, her voice carrying a quiet authority. "No, you all stay here, okay?" Her gaze flickered from one concerned face to another. Who knows what could happen in the coming hour. "I'll be quick and careful, I promise."

Josh conceded with a sigh, the reluctance evident as he retrieved the keys from his pocket. "It's the orange Mustang, parked out front."

Y/N grabbed the keys, "Right, uh, is the address still the same?"

Josh hesitated, "Oh, yeah, we haven’t moved headquarters since-" His unfinished sentence carried a silent acknowledgment of the tangled threads of their past. We haven’t moved since you walked out of our lives. "Uh, I'll text you the address right now, just in case."

"Thanks,” YN nodded timidly, “I'll text you when I get there," she promised, punctuating the words with a quick peck on Josh's cheek.

As she turned to leave, a peculiar sensation halted her, a magnetic pull toward a concerned-looking Jake. Against her own volition, she pivoted toward him, their eyes meeting in silent exchange. "I'll be back in a flash," she assured him with a soft smile. She felt silly. The unspoken need for mutual reassurance apparently remained, even after all this time.

As Y/N walked away, the dull hospital lighting cast elongated shadows across the hallway. Her steps echoed against the sterile tiles, each one a rhythmic beat marking her departure.

Josh glanced at his brother, who stood like a sentinel, a silent observer caught in the undertow of emotions. "She'll be fine," Josh said, offering a reassuring smile.

Jake, however, remained silent, a conflicted expression etched on his face. His gaze lingered on the spot where Y/N had vanished as the residual ache of their shared history hung in the air.

_________

The familiar crunch of gravel beneath her boots accompanied Y/N as she approached the quaint, weather-worn house, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. Y/N's fingers fumbled with the keys, unlocking the door with a familiarity that transcended the passage of time.

As the door creaked open, a flood of nostalgia rushed over her. The living room, adorned with mismatched furniture that had seen better days, radiated warmth despite its worn-out appearance. The heart of the house, their makeshift recording studio, beckoned from the end of the hall.

Y/N's steps carried her through the dimly lit corridor, where framed pictures captured stolen moments frozen in time. Each snapshot told a story — candid shots of Jake lost in a guitar riff, Josh deep in contemplation over lyrics or Danny playfully wielding knitting needles as drumsticks. She felt her heart fill with warmth as she took in the fact that they hadn’t taken them down even after she’d left. She was the one who had taken and framed most of them, to which Jake had rolled his eyes at the time. Interior design is not Rock n’ Roll, YN.

The studio, a hallowed ground of creativity, hummed with a quiet energy. Instruments, cables, and sheets of music lay scattered — remnants of countless sessions where melodies took shape and lyrics found their voice.

As she ascended the creaky stairs, memories echoed in each step.

With her mission in mind, Y/N ventured into the individual realms of Danny's and Josh's rooms. Each space, a unique reflection of its occupant, revealed the essence of their personalities and the bonds forged within these walls.

She approached Sammy's room, the youngest Kiszka's energy palpable even before crossing the threshold. Upon opening the door, the room revealed itself as a kaleidoscope of color and controlled chaos. Musical instruments and sheet music lay scattered, a testament to the youngest Kiszka's exuberant spirit.

She walked to his wardrobe. Inside, a mosaic of photographs was lazily duck taped onto the mahogany wood. A treasure trove of memories. Among the snapshots, a specific one caught Y/N's eye. The image portrayed a slightly younger, carefree version of themselves, their Halloween costumes and laughter frozen in time. The nostalgia that washed over her was tinged with a pang of sorrow, a poignant reminder of the distance that had grown between them all since.

Y/N selected some of Sammy's clothes and shoved them in a duffle bag along with Josh’s and Danny’s.

Hesitancy gripped her as she stepped into Jake's room. The room, once a sanctuary, now held only the imprints of their intertwined lives, an indelible mark that time had failed to erase.

The bed, a haven for whispered confessions and shared laughter, stood as the silent witness to countless nights spent together, reveling in each other’s warmth.

A row of guitars, leaning against the corner, told tales of impromptu jam sessions and the gentle strumming that had often served as a lullaby.

The empty shelf, once adorned with books she had left behind, spoke volumes about the spaces they had carved out for each other within this room.

Among the carefully arranged mess, Y/N noticed the mark left by the picture frame that used to sit on his desk. The absence left a void, and she couldn't help but fixate on the faint outline.

As she reached in the cupboard for his clothes, the overwhelming aroma momentarily arrested her senses. Each piece carried his scent.

Attempting to brush off the rush of sentimentality, Y/N focused on the task at hand. With a determined efficiency, she shoved clothes in another duffle bag, before leaving behind the room that held the echoes of their shared history.

She left the house, casting one last fleeting glance at the photographs on the walls, a silent acknowledgment of the friendships that time had altered but not erased.

She stepped back into the pouring rain, yet the fragrance seemed to somehow linger, a ghost of the past that clung to her clothes.

_______

Restlessness gnawed at Jake as they all awaited Y/N's return. Rain drummed incessantly outside, providing an unwelcome soundtrack to his growing impatience. His leg bounced in a nervous rhythm, an outward expression of the turmoil churning within.

Josh, attuned to Jake's silent struggles, noticed the fidgety display but refrained from commenting. In the quiet of the room, he pondered the complex weave of emotions that tied his brother to Y/N.

“Give her a moment," Josh advised eventually, as Jake's impatience drove him to his feet. The hospital room felt stifling, and Jake muttered something about needing a drink as he retreated. "We're in a hospital, you can’t—" Josh begins, rolling his eyes but his brother cut him off with irritation.

"I just need a break,” Jake dismissed him, “it’s no big deal."

Josh sighed, “Would it kill you, for once in your life, to-”

“I’m back!” Y/N's joyful voice broke through the air, announcing her return before the tension could escalate further.

Jake, who moments ago sought refuge from the confined space, suddenly felt like he could breathe again as Y/N's voice reached them.

Josh, observing from across the room, caught the subtle relaxation in Jake's shoulders at the sight of Y/N stepping into the hall, a duffel bag in each hand. The momentary relief didn't go unnoticed by the perceptive twin. They eagerly relieved Y/N from the bags she was holding, their expressions grateful.

Seeking reassurance, YN queried about whether there’d been any progress. Their somber response prompted a subtle play of fatigue and concern that she skillfully concealed.

"Let’s give it time," Y/N remarked, a measured optimism in her tone as they collectively faced the uncertain hours ahead.

________

Y/N was drifting in and out of sleep in her chair, unable to find a comfortable position. She glanced around, searching for a momentary escape from the heavy atmosphere. Her eyes fell on a nearby waiting area, and in the corner sat an old piano, a relic of the hospital's attempt to bring comfort to visitors.

Memories flooded back – countless hours with Sammy, sat around the piano, creating melodies that echoed through the band house. It was a spot where they’d always found refuge amid the chaos that often accompanied their lives.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach the instrument. She ran her fingers over the keys, the cool touch a familiar sensation. The hospital's sterile surroundings seemed to fade away as she discreetly lost herself in simple notes.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Jake watched from a distance. Music had always had a magnetic effect on them, a shared love that transcended everything else.

YN eventually settled at the piano stool. As her fingers gracefully danced over the keys, the familiar chords of Carol King’s "You've Got a Friend" filled the air. Jake smiled sadly. One of Sam’s favorites. Memories of countless evenings spent listening to the Tapestry record flooded their mind.

Unexpectedly, Karen's soulful voice joined in, the lyrics a comforting embrace amid the uncertainty. Ronnie, Josh, and Danny soon followed suit, creating an impromptu harmony that gently resonated through the hospital corridor.

Others joined in, a spontaneous gathering of voices seeking solace in the music. Some swayed to the rhythm, others nodded along, and a few simply close their eyes, lost in the gentle melody.

Detached from the crowd, Jake watched from a distance, his thoughts still a whirlwind.

The piano, a momentary escape from the harsh reality of the hospital, transformed into a vessel for collective strength. A poignant reminder that, despite the challenges, the bond forged through music remained unbroken.

As the final notes of the song faded away, Jake, physically and emotionally drained, succumbed to the weight of exhaustion. His eyelids slowly drooped and, for the first time in over 70 hours, the young man finally drifted off to sleep.

The hospital corridor, once filled with music, now came back to a serene quietness, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of Jake's steady breathing.

Observing him from a distance, Y/N noticed the subtle change in his posture. His tense features relaxed, and the lines of worry that etched his face seemed to soften in the gentle glow of the hospital lights.

Quietly stepping closer, Y/N pulled a blanket from a nearby chair. With careful tenderness, she covered Jake's slumbering figure, ensuring he was shielded from the chill of the hospital air.

With a last glance, Y/N stepped away, leaving him to the comfort of dreams, momentarily sheltered from the tumult of reality.

_________

Another day unfolded in the hushed waiting area. Jake was sitting in a chair, weariness etched on his features. The passage of time had drained color from his complexion, leaving him paler and more fragile with each hour that passed. Y/N’s eyes flickered to him every so often. Dark circles lingered under his tired eyes, telling tales of sleepless nights and endless worry.

“You haven’t been eating,” Y/N observed, her voice a gentle ripple amid the quiet, as she crouched in front of him.

“Haven’t been hungry,” he replied, shifting into his seat. His gaze remained fixed on a distant point on the wall.

YN retrieved something from her purse. "Your mum and I drove by a gas station earlier, I couldn't resist," she smiled, placing a bag of powered Donettes on his lap.

A faint half-smile graced his lips at the sight. The nostalgic snack had been all they’d eaten on tour a couple years prior. “Come on,” she urged, nudging the bag toward him. “You need energy,” YN insisted, “or shall I tell the nurses to prepare an IV?” she challenged. YN wasn’t about to let another Kiskza end up in a hospital bed.

Frustrated by his lack of response, she continued. “He wouldn’t want you to starve, you know,” her eyes studied him intently, “in fact, you'd better eat these before he wakes up, leave no traces, or else we’ll be in trouble.”

Jake scoffed, attempted amusement dancing in his tired eyes. The composed exterior he’d been wearing for the past few days was, despite his best efforts, beginning to unravel, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath.

“Hey,” she murmured gently, sensing the cracks in his carefully crafted walls. She reached for his hands as he looked down in embarrassment, “it’s okay.”

Jake let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening.

“I let him leave,” he eventually confessed, his tearful gaze drifting away, “I knew he was fucking hammered, but I-I didn’t—” he paused, clearing his throat, “he’s my little brother for Christ’s sake,” his voice broke, the admission hanging in the air, laden with remorse and guilt.

Understanding clicked into place for Y/N. Beyond lingering in her head, the memories of their reckless habits were etched into her very skin. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck, as soft sobs racked through his body.

A sudden commotion disrupted the fragile peace of the waiting area as nurses rushed past, a cart in tow, followed by two white coats. Jake and Y/N exchange a glance. Their concern mirrored in each other's eyes, and they rose to their feet, instinctively moving towards the room they knew to be Sam's. The medical staff hurried inside, prompting their steps to quicken.

Josh stood outside the room, visible weariness etched on his face. He was rubbing his forehead with his hand. Beside him, Karen was clearly in distress, her words tumbling out incoherently amid tears. Jake and Y/N rushed toward them, a shared anxiety gripping their hearts.

"What’s going on?" Y/N implored, her voice tight with worry. Caught in the moment, she hadn't even noticed Jake holding her hand for dear life.

Karen's cries made it challenging for Josh to form a coherent response. His eyes were red, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered, voice strained, "Sammy—he looked like-like he was choking or something, and shit started beeping everywhere. I don’t- I don’t know what happened."

Jake, driven by an urgent need to be with his brother, took a step towards the door, only to be gently pushed aside by a nurse. Her lips moved, uttering words he couldn't comprehend amid the ringing in his ears, drowning out the world around him.

Amid the escalating chaos, Jake's attempts to step forward became more frantic. Y/N, sensing his desperation, firmly pulled him back towards her, their hands still locked in a tight grip.

Jake’s breathing quickened, the fear in his eyes intensifying. As the panic started to overtake him, his gaze locked onto Y/N's.

Lowering his head, he pressed his forehead against hers. The panic attack was looming, but the warmth emanating from Y/N's presence provided a soothing balm.

As YN’s hand softly grazed his cheek, the hospital's frenetic energy slowly faded into the background. In the face of the unknown, their connection was still a lifeline, grounding Jake amidst the hurricane.

After a few minutes which, to them, might as well have been a few hours, the medical staff stepped out of the room. A doctor approached Karen, a stern expression on his face.

“It seems your son was rejecting his breathing tube,” he said, “tachycardia tends come along, it’s a lot for loved ones to witness, but generally more fear than harm.” He offered a tight-lipped smile as they all stood there speechless, unsure of what any of that had really meant.

“Anyway,” the doctor broke the silence again, “you can go in now. I’m sure he would like to see some familiar faces.”

They all froze, standing speechless.

“W-what?” Josh uttered.

“He’s awake,” the doctor stated with a shrug.

Josh sank to the floor as realization washed over him and Karen took the doctor in his arms who laughed, slightly taken aback. “He’s still on significant amounts of painkillers so he’ll be out of it for a while, but neurological functions seem intact, we’ll just need to keep a check for any brain swelling, and keep an eye on his ribs, but he should be fine.” He nodded, before walking away.

Jake, still in shock, turned to YN.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered with a gentle smile, "he's gonna be okay."

Her sense of reality coming back, she gently slipped her hand out of his grip and moved to help Josh off the floor. Jake remained frozen, his gaze following her as she approached his mom.

"Let's go see Sammy, now, shall we?"

Next Track: Long & Lost (same day) coming soon..

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

37 notes · View notes