#♕ start ﹥ closed

[stardustsymphony]

scar-mates || mattheo riddle

warning: smoking, burning.

a/n: i'm supposed to be studying for the exam i have in four hours and i have my book open in front of me but haven't even started studying yet so i hope y'all appreciate this cause i quite literally risked my future to write this. and please tell me y'all know that ‘sprinkle ✨ sprinkle ✨’ girl from instagram who makes reels about dark romance books mostly and she usually wears that soft, oversized pink blanket-like hoodie (or was it something else?). this one shot is inspired by one of her reel about a dark-romance book, i forgot the name.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ♕♛♕ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

“You’re like a drug.” Mattheo said, playing with your fingers. His brown eyes flickered to lock with yours, a mischievous glint in them that made your heart do flips. 

“Drugs are dangerous.”

“So are you.” 

The soft melody of rain echoed in the room, the distant sound of thunder adding in to the comfort. You snuggled close to Mattheo as a shiver ran down your spine because of the chilly room. Noticing this, he pulled you closer, your head against his chest and his heartbeat under your ear making you relax into his arms each passing second. 

“Stop snuggling so much to me,” he said –but his voice was filled with playful sarcasm. He pulled up the thick blanket all the way up to your shoulder, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. 

You lazily smiled up at him. “Stop being so warm then.” 

“I prefer the term ‘hot’, darling.” he winked at you. 

You rolled your eyes, a slight smile on your lips, as he took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, lighting it. 

“You're smoking here?” you asked, he hardly ever smokes in front of you, let alone when both are cuddling. 

“Can't leave my girl alone to shiver, now, can I?” 

Your stomach flutters at his words –‘my girl’. Oh, how you loved whenever he said stuff like that, and he was well aware of the effect his words have on you, judging by his smirk hidden behind his cigarette. 

A comforting silence washed over you both as you both occasionally mumbled sweet nothings to each other, softly kissing each other between whispered words and giggles. 

It was moments like this that made you forget about everything, all the rumours that surrounded him, the different ways people had said he would break your heart. You never doubted your love for him for even a second, but there was still some time when you wondered if the rumours that surrounded him were true. 

Your relationship was not perfect, of course, it was filled with ups and downs. You never appreciated those ‘downs’, but your sister had always told you that ‘downs’ in a relationship was just as important as ‘ups’. She said she always reminds herself of this whenever she and her boyfriend go through a rocky phase, and next month, they will be getting married. 

“What are you thinking about?” Mattheo inhaled some smoke, kept it in his mouth, then exhaled it in rings. 

“My sister and her boyfriend.”

“They're getting married next month, no?” 

“Yeah,” you looked at him and brushed some of his hair from his forehead. “You've invited, by the way.” 

“I would have crashed the wedding if you hadn't invited me.” 

You snorted. “Of course you would've.” 

There was a moment of silence, then he asked. “What's he like? Your sister's boyfriend, I mean.” 

“He's nice, he used to buy me toys when I was young and sneak me out for lunch whenever I used to feel sad.” You smiled as you remember the time with your sister's boyfriend, Mick. He truly was like an older brother to you. 

“How did they meet?” 

“They're high school sweethearts.”

Mattheo gave you a slightly surprised glance. “That young, huh? You like talking about them, no?” He added when he saw your expression. 

“I can't help it,” you shrugged. “They're just so disgustingly in love, it's so sweet. Mick used to tell me he knew my sister was the one the moment they both met, like love at first sight. My sister tells me they both are scar-mates.” 

“Scar-mates?” Mattheo asked. “What's that?” 

“When my sister was young, she fell from the stairs and got a scar on her elbow. Mick has a scar on his elbow too, she used to tell me that if you have a scar somewhere, your soulmate would have one in the exact same place as well. She used to call them scar-mates.” 

“That's…dumb. And sweet.” He added hastily when he saw your expression flicker. “But you don't believe that, do you?” 

“I do, actually,” you said awkwardly, grinning a bit. “I've been hearing it since I was a child, so it's hard not to.” 

He gave you a look that looked like a mix of amusement and sarcasm. 

“In fact,” you continued, pushing down the shoulder of your sweatshirt and tilting your head to show him your collarbone. “I do have one scar here. It's when I fell from the swings in the backyard.” 

His eyes fell down at your collarbone, taking in the age old scar there. His fingers lightly brushed against it and you shivered. Then, as if you couldn't help yourself, you asked,

“Do you have any scars?” 

Mattheo didn't answer immediately, just brushed his fingers against your scar once more. Just when you thought he wouldn't answer at all, he sat straight and opened his shirt. 

It took all your willpower not to shamelessly stare at him. 

“Yeah, I do actually.” he said, taking his second cigarette out of his mouth and exhaling slowly, keeping his eyes on your face. And before you could react or ask him anything, he twisted his cigarette around and pressed it against his own collarbone, on the exact same spot where you had your scar. 

You gasped, horrified, and pulled his hand away and threw away his cigarette, not caring where it landed in the room. 

“What are you doing?!” you shrieked. 

Mattheo’s eyes never left your face, his expression not giving away anything as he held your chin gently, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“Scar-mates.” he said softly before leaning down to press his lips against the scar on your collarbone.

[cameronsbabydoll]

FINDING OUT ♕ RAFE CAMERON ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU

WARNINGS: sexism, alcohol, and smoking

You and Rafe had known each other since childhood—not by choice, but by circumstance. Your father and Rafe’s father, Ward Cameron, were business partners—both powerful men who built their empires on power, money, secrecy, control, and manipulation. You knew very well that their business wasn’t built in a day; it had been passed down through generations, from their fathers and grandfathers, who had risen to power through corruption and dirty work, reaching a status other people could only dream of.

Growing up, you would walk downstairs in the princess gown your mother bought you, only to be met with hushed whispers and men in tailored suits huddled in deep conversation around the dining room table. And then there was Rafe Cameron—the Kook King, the golden boy of Figure Eight—who seemed to only speak in blunt truths. You and Rafe weren’t friends by any means, more like two spoiled children forced to be around each other while your fathers drank overpriced whiskey and discussed business deals. You knew his sister, though. The two of you weren’t best friends, but you were friendly. She was outgoing and fun, while you had always been more reserved and shy. Still, you often found yourself with her whenever your fathers were around.

Now, years later, you found yourself sitting at the same long, polished oak dining table in Tannyhill. Your mother had dressed you in a pale pink satin dress, which felt completely out of place as you sat beside her, the thick smoke of cigars floating above your head and creating a sense of dread in your stomach.

Ward Cameron sat at the head of the table, swirling the rim of his whiskey glass with his finger before finally pulling the attention to himself.

"Your father and I have been thinking for a while, and we’ve decided that the best way to strengthen our power and alliance is to bind our families together. Which is where you two come in," Ward said, his eyes darting between Rafe and your father, as if you weren’t even there. "So, we’ve arranged a marriage between the two of you. It’s the only way this can happen."

The swirling air of cigars felt heavier. Your chest tightened with his words. Marriage itself didn’t scare you, not at all. In fact, the idea had always sent you into a girlish state of planning every detail—from the exact cut of your ring to the names of your future children. But this was different. Instead of your dream man, it was Rafe Cameron—a man a few years older than you, a risk-taker, and, quite frankly, someone you could never have imagined marrying.

"You can’t be serious," Rafe said, his voice flat, void of emotion. "This has to be some sort of joke." He finished, slamming his bourbon glass onto the table.

"Your father and I never joke about business; you should know that by now," your father replied, pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

In your head, your thoughts raced. Why is this happening? Isn’t this outdated? Why am I not even part of this conversation? And why is everyone drinking bitter, old-fashioned alcohol but me?

But you already knew the answer to that—you had only just turned twenty, and it wouldn’t be ladylike, would it?

"And quite frankly, it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to do this," Ward continued. "We’ve already started the arrangements. The venue is booked, and the process is underway. I’d appreciate it if you learned a lesson from your future wife about not questioning your father."

The attention was suddenly on you. Lifting your eyes slightly from your lap, you felt the burning stares of the three men.

Your father looked at you with a sense of pride—not for who you were, but for your silence. Ward was watching you closely, as if expecting your compliance to influence Rafe’s resistance. And Rafe? He was looking at you like you were the mastermind behind this whole thing—as if you were the culprit of the situation.

"Well, that’s because she’s already playing into the compliant wife role, isn’t she?" Rafe scoffed, his knuckles turning white. "I’m not going to sit here, keep my eyes on my lap, and stay silent like some obedient puppy." Though his voice was sharp, there was something uncertain in his words—like a question buried beneath his frustration.

You knew better than to answer.

You had learned early on never to question your father—or any man who held power, for that matter. So, instead of speaking up like any normal woman might, you remained in your seat, forcing your mind to drift to something—anything—positive about this situation.

The only thing that came to mind was the wedding itself. The dresses. The dream ring. The excitement of planning.

You didn’t even notice your mother pulling your hand into hers, "How about the two of us girls leave and start talking about the more important things—dresses, color themes, and more wedding planning? You all can finish talking business," she suggested.

Your father nodded without sparing you so much as a glance.

Your mother led you to the living room, where Rose, Rafe’s stepmother, sat with a cup of tea, flipping through a wedding planner.

"Oh, I’m glad you two managed to escape that conversation; I’m sure it was dreadful," Rose said with a soft smile. "Please, sit. Your mother and I have already been going over some ideas for the wedding, but we figured you should have most of the control. It’s the least we can do, considering this whole... situation." She reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before setting a baby blue binder on your lap.

"W-Wow... you guys really started planning," you muttered, your thumb tracing the engraved words Wedding Planner on the cover. "Is there some kind of order we should go in? L-Like, I know you all want the... wedding to happen soon...?" You trailed off, lifting your gaze from the binder to the two women.

Your mother let out a soft chuckle, placing her hands over yours. "Well, that’s one way to put it, sweetie. I figured we’d start with the ring and the dress, and we’d plan the colors and theme around that."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Y-Yeah... that sounds good. When can we go?"

Rose and your mother exchanged glances before Rose beamed."How about tomorrow? And if we don’t find anything, we can always order some custom dresses or travel to find the perfect one!"

"That sounds amazing, actually," you giggled, closing the binder and setting it down on the glass coffee table.

Your mother squeezed your hand gently, her expression warm. "I’m glad, honey. We’ll make a day out of it—shopping, wedding planning, maybe even a spa visit."

Rose placed her tea cup on the table and nodded. "Perfect! We’ll leave tomorrow around ten. You two should get some rest now—I’ll let your father know."

You gave Rose a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Rose. I’m excited for tomorrow."

As you and your mother left the Cameron estate, she drove home—a short trip filled with comfortable silence.

When you arrived, you bid her goodnight, thanking her before heading upstairs. You climbed the grand staircase, undressed from the upscale dress into a nightgown, and finally lay your head against your silk pillows.

With a deep breath, you let your thoughts drift to some far-off fantasy, whispering to yourself a quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—it would all be okay.

TAGLIST: @vanessa-rafesgirl @lolasangelz @malibuhearts @popou61

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Haitani Brothers Headcanons

♡ SFW & NSFW, Tenjiku and Bonten Timelines, AFAB Reader, tried to keep it gender neutral tho ♡

note: may or may not be ooc, this was longer than planned oops

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

♕Tenjiku♕

♕ Rindou is extremely quiet and he unintentionally sneaks up on you a lot (he's used to walking on eggshells because of Ran's sleep schedule)

♕ Ran has a daily nap schedule he follows religiously

♕ Rindou learned how to braid just so he could do Ran's hair

♕ They match outfits all the time and they will make you match outfits with them whenever you go out

♕ Rindou takes bubble baths and does at home spa treatments (he's big on self-care and would take you and Ran on spa trips too)

♕ If you're dating one of them, you're besties with the other one, no debate fr

♕ Ran would let you choose what color he'll dye his hair next (Ran: If you pick an ugly color, I'm gonna rock you in your shit ♡)

♕ Ngl they'd be friends with Hanma, especially Ran (they'd get on Rindou and Kisaki's nerves all day)

♕ Rindou does gymnastics (self-taught king 🤭)

♕ Ran was surprisingly a decent student in school, he liked classes that delt with science the most

♕ They had their matching tattoos planned out even before they started involving themselves in gang activities

♕ Rindou is more responsible than Ran

♕ Rindou gets jealous of being in Ran's shadow/being seen as just the younger brother (that's why he pulls those crazy poses during fights, because he wants to be memorable for his opponents)

♕ Ran notices Rin's jealously and always reassures him that he's his own person and an awesome fighter and little brother

♕Bonten♕

♕ They chose to get the Bonten tats on their necks because they didn't want anymore torso tattoos (and Rindou refused to get a tattoo on his head like Koko did)

♕ Rindou teared up when he got his neck tat (Ran laughed at him, he comforted him later tho)

♕ Ran has a high pain tolerance, Rindou...not so much

♕ Rindou likes when you call him Rinnie or RinRin (he'll never admit it tho)

♕ You end up becoming friends with Sanzu because of them (Bonten trio headcanons when 👀)

♕ Rindou refers to Sanzu as the bubblegum man because of his hair (it's cool tho cause Sanzu calls him a jellyfish behind his back 💀)

♕ You called Ran and Rin the deadly duo as a joke once, but they lowkey liked it

♕ Ran is really blunt about his feelings, while Rindou is more closed off about his emotions

♕ They invite you to all the clubs they own (the VIP section is calling your name 🍾)

♕ Ran cut his hair because he got sick of spending hours in the bathroom on wash day

♕ Rindou almost cried when Ran came into work with his hair cut (Rindou: Ran...wtf did you do to your hair? 😭)

♕NSFW (with a dash of fluff)♕

♕ Ran's a busy man, but he still makes time to meet your needs (office quickies are a common occurrence)

♕ Rindou takes time off just to stay home with you all day (takes you out to a club he owns and ends up railing you in the VIP section)

♕ Rindou is undoubtedly an ass man, if he sees you in a nice outfit that compliments your "assets" he will pounce on you like a wild animal

♕ Ran likes leaving bite marks on your thighs (they're one of his favorite parts of you and he just wants to mark his territory)

♕ If you get their names tatted on you, they'll be putty in your hands 🙌

(Rindou: You got a tattoo..of my name? You're so lucky we're in public right now or else I'd be doing some unholy things to you.)

(Ran: Aww my pretty baby wanted my name on their body? Now everyone will really know you're all mine ♡)

♕ You sext Ran while he's at work (be prepared for him to be rough with you as soon as he gets home)

♕ Side note: Sanzu was peering over Ran's shoulder and saw the pics you sent him, prepare to be complimented by him the next time he sees you (Sanzu: Hey y/n, you looked really hot in *outfit you wore when you sent Ran the pic*)

♕ Rindou gets flustered when you two fuck, y'all have fucked plenty of times but he still always blushes when he sees you naked

♕ Lazy morning sex with Ran 🤭

♕ Rindou is the king of aftercare fr (he'd be super gentle and soft with you during sex too)

♕ Ran is rough and always leaves you sore (he cuddles you after tho)

♕ Ran would be more likely to get you pregnant (he's irresponsible asf, but he'd for sure be a great dad)

♕ Rindou is less likely to get you pregnant, but he wants a family more than Ran does (Rindou: Wouldn't it be great to have a bunch of mini versions of us running around?)

♕ Rindou put you in a mating press once and almost broke the bed 😭

♕ If you're sleeping with one brother, the other is off limits (they do like to make each other jealous sometimes tho, so expect some flirtation here and there)

♕ Pet names (no I won't elaborate 💜)

♕ Rindou has a choking kink (doesn't matter if he's doing the choking or the one being choked, he gets bricked)

♕ Ran loves when you leave nail marks down his back (Ran: Pain is pleasure ♡)

[fanfaire]

WHETHER THE KNAVE KNOWS THE GAME OR NOT has long slipped furina's attention ; each move she makes may as well be that of teyvat's championship genius invokation player for the way it makes her palms cold and her body restless, as though a hundred ants crawled under her skin, a stomach of knots and one leg jittering beneath the table.

not here to learn something about the tournament. . . but playing it here nonetheless. could it be that the tsaritsa's harbingers have more time on their hands than she'd imagined? she supposes she doesn't know very much about how they live their day to day. . . nothing at all, really. but the assertion that she'd still rather be here anyway still unsettles more than relieves. "o-oh. . . is that so." she doesn't meet her gaze, instead trying to focus on making her next moves. but motions are automatic, hands swapping cards and playing careless attacks without thinking. some electro flies, she switches to clorinde at some point——why had she done that again?——and with some melange of various dice remaining, ends the round once more.

and finds absolutely no desire to go on, really.

perhaps the universe senses this, because at that moment as she's dreading the next thing the knave asks or says⠀(⠀even if it's silence ; maybe that would be worse. would it——?⠀) ,⠀a crash of shattering glass from the corridor sits her straight with a gasp. followed immediately by the pound of running steps.

　✧　WHITE QUEEN⠀/⠀BLACK KING

　　 　　　　 　　 　 　　❪　comm. bloom　/　TCG　❫

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 17 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mature content, cursing, and slight angst (if you squint)

Summary: Lex is gone for good and Lena returns. . .

Previous Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

Lena looks nervous when she steps past me into the apartment, but then her eyes land on my crutch and her eyes fill with tears.

Her chin wobbles and she holds out her hands as if to touch me before lowering them again, thinking better of it when I take a step back. “Y/N. . .”

I swallow thickly and close the door, limping toward the couch. “What do you want?” I ask, my voice coming out hoarse.

She left when I needed her the most and even though her green eyes still make my stomach flip when they meet mine, I can’t prevent all the pent up hurt and anguish from clawing at my throat.

Lena doesn’t say anything, her eyes just dance between me and all the half-packed boxes around the living room.

“I’m serious, Lena,” I repeat myself, “what are you doing here?”

Her tear filled eyes meet mine and instead of answer she just whispers, “You’re leaving?”

I scoff and avert my eyes, picking at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows. “What do you care?”

“What do you mean? I care about you,” she says quietly, the hurt evident in her voice.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and look up to stare at her incredulously. “You do? Well, I guess then you have a very unique way of showing it.”

There’s no bite behind my words, only sadness and a little frustration.

Lena bites her lower lip and looks down, ashamed. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You’re sorry?” I ask, my voice low. “Is that all you have to say after disappearing off the face of the Earth when I needed you the most?”

“I—No, Y/N. You don’t understand,” she stutters, wringing her hands. “What Lex did— It’s my fault. You were shot because of me and I blamed myself for it, so I stayed away. But then I realized how selfish I was being, and I was only keeping my distance because I couldn’t face you and the guilt that came with seeing you hurt. That was a week after what happened and I wanted to come see you, but by then I thought I was too late. I’d stayed away too long and I was afraid that if I saw you again you’d hate me and I couldn’t bear it, so I left.”

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes and take a deep breath. “Lena. . . I don’t blame you for what happened. It’s not your fault.”

I hear her take a breath, probably ready to object, but I continue before she can say anything.

“But I needed you. . .” I whisper. “I was hurt and worried and just wanted to see you, and you weren’t there.”

I drop my hands into my lap and look at Lena who’s watching me with silent tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. She hasn’t even taken off her winter coat yet and seeing her this uncomfortable and unsure in my space tugs at my heart.

“Even my father showed up,” I add with a pained half-smile. “My father, Lena. . .”

Lena’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water before her entire face crumbles and she starts sobbing into her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-sorry.”

She hiccups and breaks down in front of me and it only takes a whisperd You deserve so much better than me for me to get up and take her into my arms.

She flinches at the fist touch, shaking in the embrace, but then she starts sobbing against my neck, her arms finding their way around my middle.

Her nose is cold against my skin and makes me shiver and the sound of her whimpers and sniffles makes me tear up as well.

“That’s not true,” I murmur against her temple.

Lena pushes her face further into my neck and shakes her head. “It is. I keep hurting you, and all you do is worry about me and keep me from feeling bad about myself.”

I sigh and close my eyes, feeling a sense a peace wash over me when the smell of her lavender scented shampoo clouds my senses.

It is true, she’s hurt me more than once now, but neither times it was ill intent that drove her to do what she did. It was insecurity, guilt, and fear, and I, more than anyone else, knows what that’s like.

There are some things that are unforgivable, things like what my dad did and said to me, but this? I know, deep down in my heart that I will, in time, be able to forgive Lena for this.

Maybe not right now, and maybe not for a couple days, or weeks, or months even, but eventually I will.

I card my fingers through Lena’s hair and press my cheek against her temple. “You’ve hurt me, yes, and it probably won’t be the last time, but there will come a time when I’m the one hurting you,” I whisper. “That’s how things go, just— Please believe me when I say that I don’t blame you for what Lex did.”

“Y/N. . .” she protests weakly but I shush her and press a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s okay. We’re going to be okay, but I need some time away from everything. I have to figure out who I want to be and what I want to do,” I say, still running my fingers through her hair.

Lena nods slowly and pulls back so her bloodshot eyes can meet mine. “But you’re coming back, right?”

I smile and cup her cheeks, my stimach flipping when she leans into the touch. “Of course. No matter what.”

Lena exhales shakily. “When are you leaving?”

I look at the boxes scattered around the living room and bite the inside of my cheek before answering. “The day after tomorrow.”

“W-What?” She doesn’t pull away, but she tightens her grip around my middle. “But it’s Christmas in a week.”

I cringe, hearing her say it like that, as though she was planning on spending it with me, but I deliberately set everything up this way because my parents will most definitely try to stop by on Christmas and by then I want to be gone already.

“This is just because of your parents?” she asks after I explain my reasoning and I nod, watching as she frowns in thought.

“So if it weren’t for them you’d stay a little longer?” she probes and I nod again, not entirely sure where she’s going with this until she says, “I’m not trying to convince you to stay for good, but if this is really just because of your parents would you— I don’t know— would you maybe consider staying just a little longer? Just until Christmas is over. . .You could even stay at my place— or Sam’s if that makes you more comfortable. That way you don’t have to worry about your parents showing up. I just— I really want to start making things up to you and I kinda already got you a gift.”

Caught off guard by her rambling, I take a step back with wide eyes.

She wants to spend Christmas with me?

I watch her fidget, unable to say anything until she begins backpedaling, obviously mistaking my stunned silence for rejection.

“O-Or not, you know, it’s up to you. I’m sorry. . .God, why am I so selfish. This is not about me. You should—“

“Hey, stop,” I cut her off gently, grabbing her hands to stop her wild gesturing.

She swallows thickly, her brows pulled together in embarrassment and I smile softly to ease her mind a bit.

“I can stay a little longer. I’ll just have to contact the movers to let them know about the change of plans.” I say.

Lena’s whole face lights up and in the blink of an eye her arms are thrown around my neck and she’s pulling me into a bone crushing hug. “Thank you. You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”

I chuckle lowly and return the embrace, running my hands up and down her back. “I don’t have a present for you though, so if that’s a problem for you I might have to reconsider.”

She laughs—full on laughs at that and the sound of it makes me grin. “You don’t have to get me anything. I just want you.”

I just want you. . .

Those words make my knees weak and my heart leap in my chest, and I close my eyes, savoring the moment.

Yeah, we’re definitely going to be okay.

“Hey guys!” Lena giggles, opening the door to her apartment to greet Sam, Ruby and me.

Since I’m still not entirely over her running away yet, I decided it would be best if I stayed with Sam, which is why I’ve been living in her guest bedroom for the last week.

Lena and I have gotten coffee and had lunch almost every day since then though, working through our issues and discussing where we want our relationship to go.

We decided not to get serious just yet because I need some more time to get over what happened and also because neither of us is a huge fan of long distance. We will be keeping in touch though and I promised her we’ll go on a real date once I get back.

Tonight is Christmas eve and Lena is hosting because she has the biggest apartment and when I glance past her while she’s pulling Sam and Ruby into a hug, I make out Kara, Winn, James and Alex, mingling by the fireplace next to the Christmas tree.

Surprisingly my parents haven’t tried to contact me yet, but I’m sure it will happen sooner rather than later. Especially when they go to my apartment and find it empty.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice brings me back to reality and I shift my eyes from inside the apartment to her.

She’s in a gorgeous, black, off shoulder dress and her dark hair has been styled to flow down her back in soft curls.

It makes me feel a little underdressed in my simple shirt and dress pants, but it’s what Sam picked out for me, so I guess I’ll just have to go with it.

“Lena,” I say, limping toward her on my crutch. “You look beautiful.”

She blushes with a coy smile and wraps her arms around my neck in a gentle hug. “Thank you. I’m happy you’re here. “

Her body is warm against mine and I squeeze her waist with the hand that’s not still holding onto the crutch before pulling back and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Me too.”

Her sparkling green eyes meet mine and she drops her arms from around my neck just to take my hand into hers, interlacing our fingers.

I smile at the act and nod when she eyes me questioningly, letting her lead me into the apartment. By now everyone knows that I’m not just her former bodyguard, so I don’t mind the PDA as long as it doesn’t go any further than handholding and kisses on cheeks.

The lights are dimmed and soft Christmas music is playing from a record player by the lit fireplace. The tree next to it is decorated with fairy lights and classic red ornaments, and candles are lit on the set dining table.

“It smells great, Lena,” Sam says when we join everyone in the living room.

“Thanks, but I can’t take all the credit,” Lena deflects politely as she pulls me to sit on the couch with her. “Alex and Kara helped me cook.”

I smile and put my crutch down on the floor so no one trips over it, leaning back into the cushions without letting go of Lena’s hand.

Alex raises her glass in acknowledgment and Kara waves off the compliment. “It was really nothing,” she says and everyone chuckles.

“Of course you’d say that,” Alex teases. “All you did was put on a cooking playlist and taste test the yams.”

Kara’s jaw drops and she scoffs. “That’s not true!”

Lena hums next to me and when I look over I see her smirking at the younger Danvers sister. “You’re right. You also ate most of the marshmallows and almost burned down the kitchen trying to caramelize the walnuts.”

Everyone laughs at that and Kara rolls her eyes with a huff. “Alright, alright. Go ahead and laugh, but once you’re done can we please talk about the fact that Winn’s tie doesn’t match his shirt?”

“Huh?” Winn stops sipping from his beer and frowns down at his tie. “What’s wrong with my tie?”

“Nothing.”

“Everything.”

James playfully glares at Alex who smiles smugly over the rim of her wine glass.

After a beat of silence, Winn just shrugs and mumbles a whatever before the whole group returns to playfully bantering and chatting about nothing and everything.

I just sit back and relax, enjoying the familiarity of it all while running my thumb over the back of Lena’s hand.

She’s leaning against my side, chiming in on the conversation every now and then until the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready.

“Yay! I’m starving,” Kara chirps, moving to the kitchen to take out the turkey. Alex follows her to help and James and Winn push themselves off the wall next to the fireplace to take a seat at the table.

“Can I sit next to you, Y/N?” Ruby asks and I nod.

“Of course kiddo.” I ruffle her hair and Sam smiles at me as she pulls her daughter off the couch and toward the table.

I bend down to grab my crutch, but before I can get to my feet Lena squeezes my hand, making me look at her.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, watching me with concern. “You’ve barely said anything. Is it your leg?”

I chuckle softly and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m okay. I promise. I’m just enjoying the moment and taking it all in. My leg is fine, I took a painkiller before we left.”

Lena’s green eyes search mine and she raises one hand to keep my own pressed against her cheek. “You sure?”

I nod with a reassuring smile. “Positive.”

“Okay then, let’s eat,” she says, kissing my palm before helping me to my feet.

I follow her to the table and take a seat next to Ruby just as Alex starts carving the turkey. James and Winn hand around the sides after serving themselves and Kara makes quick work of topping off all glasses of wine.

Lena takes a seat on my other side and pours me a glass of water before placing her hand on my thigh and squeezing gently.

It makes my skin tingle and a shiver run down my spine, but I try not to focus on it as Winn hands me the yams.

Once the turkey has been fully carved and everyone’s been served we dig in. The food is absolutely delicious, but I can’t help but glance at Lena every now and then, admiring the way the candle light flickers on her face and makes her eyes sparkle.

She notices me staring several times, but doesn’t comment on it. She just smiles shyly with a blush creeping up her neck and diverts her eyes to look her plate.

After dinner we settle on the couch on the living room and play some board games. Lena wins Monopoly twice, much to everyone’s dismay, but she loses horribly at Ludo a couple of times which results in Kara and Winn being extra smug even though they both only get second and third place every time.

Time passes in a blur and before we know it it’s already midnight.

Alex promised her girlfriend Maggie she’d spend Christmas morning with her which is why she leaves once we finish our last game of UNO. She’s followed shortly after by Winn and James who promised their families the same thing, which leaves Kara, Sam, Ruby and I to spend the night in one of Lena’s guest rooms.

“Good night, guys!” Kara waves and smiles at Lena and I, waiting for Sam and Ruby to join her since their rooms are one floor below ours.

I smile and wish Kara a good night as well and ignore the suggestive look Sam sends me when she passes Lena and me on the couch.

I’ve been chosen to take the guest room down the hall and even though it makes my heart beat faster that Lena wants me close to her, it suddenly also makes me feel kind of nervous.

Especially because Sam— with her suggestive look— obviously thinks something is going to happen between Lena and I and until now I hadn’t thought of that.

“Good night, Y/N,” Ruby whispers as she hugs me.

I squeeze her in my arms, trying to ignore the nervousness in the pit of my stomach and mumble, “Good night, Rubes. Merry Christmas.”

The girl smiles at me and joins her mom and Kara by the door. The three of them wave one last time before leaving, closing the door behind them.

I stare at the door somewhat longingly, wishing I could escape the sudden tension in the room, but then Lena’s hand is squeezing my knee, making me turn around and look at her.

“Don’t be nervous,” she says earnestly, somehow having read my mind. “Nothing is going to happen between us.”

I open my mouth, wanting to object and tell her that that’s not why I’m nervous but when she raises her eyebrow knowingly I snap my mouth shut with a sheepish grin and a timid nod.

“Look, I know it’s not the morning yet, but it technically is the 25th already, so if you don’t mind I’d like to give you your gift now rather than tomorrow morning when the others are around.” She rambles a bit and I smile at the fact that my nervousness has somehow shifted over to her.

“I’d like that, too,” I say lowly. Our eyes stay connected for a second longer, neither of us daring to move, but then Lena clears her throat and stumbles to her feet.

“Wait here,” she instructs with a gentle smile and I nod, settling back into the cushions of the couch.

It takes a couple of moments for Lena to return, but when she does the sound of something heavy being dragged over the floor is the first thing I hear before my eyes land on her rounding a corner.

“Lena, what the hell is that?” I chuckle and move to get up and help her but she just stares me down with a warning look until I settle back down onto the couch.

“It’s your present,” she pants, dragging the huge rectangular box all the way in front if me before setting it down on the ground.

She pushes the coffee table away so I have more space to unpack and returns to her spot on the couch next to me with a huff.

My eyes dart between her and the box and when I don’t make a move to unwrap it, Lena nudges me and says, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

I laugh softly and raise my hands in surrender before leaning forward and unwrapping the box.

The record player is still playing soft Christmas music and the fire crackles in the fireplace, sending a cloud sparks up the chimney every time a log shifts.

Lena watches me as I unwrap my present until the plain cardboard beneath the wrapping paper comes into view.

I chuckle at the added mystery and careful pry the box open until my eyes land on what’s inside.

“Lena. . .” I gasp and scooch forward on the couch to get a better look. “How did you. . .” I trail off and run my fingers over the keyboard inside the box.

It’s a model I’ve been eyeing for a while now since I decided I wanted to get back into playing piano, but I’ve never told Lena I used to play and I definitely didn’t tell her about this exact keyboard.

“Do you like it?” she asks quietly which makes my eyes snap to her. She’s nervously chewing on her bottom lip and has her hands buried in her lap.

“Do I like it?” I repeat incredulously. “Lena, this is. . . How did you . . . I can’t believe you got this for me. I love it. I absolutely love it. Thank you so much.”

Lena relaxes visibly and her lips twitch with amusement. “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?!” I echo again with a laugh. “I love it! How did you know about this? I don’t think I ever told you I play, did I?”

She shakes her head and helps me open the box a little more so the keyboard is on full display. “No, but I saw the picture of you playing at your high school graduation on your nightstand. . . And I may or may not have seen you look up keyboards when I was staying at your place.”

Ah, so that explains it. Damn, she’s really observant. . .

I smile at her admission and redirect my attention toward the keyboard and run my fingers over the keys.

I’m only now noticing that it’s the most expensive model I looked at without any intention of ever buying it and suddenly the fact that I don’t really have a present in return makes me feel insanely guilty.

Noticing the shift in my mood almost instantly, Lena frowns and clasps her hands together. “What is it? Do you not like it after all? Or is it about what I said? I’m sorry if I overstepped, Y/N. I just thought—“

“No, Lena, stop.” I cut her off quickly and take one of her hands, lacing our fingers together and stroking my thumb over the back of her thumb. “It’s not about any of that. I love it and I’m extremely grateful but. . .”

“But?” she asks when I don’t continue, dipping her head to catch my eye.

I sigh and smile sadly. “But my present — if you can even call it that— is nothing compared to this. This is great a-and insanely thoughtful and mine is just—“

This time Lena’s the one to cut me off, squeezing my hand and saying, “I’m sure that’s not true and I don’t care what you got me. I didn’t buy this expecting something in return. I mean, you even warned me about not having a present.”

I huff and pout playfully which makes her laugh.

“Come on, tell me what you got me,” she says.

I chew on the inside of my cheek and look at our intertwined hands. “Well, it’s not exactly a thing. . .”

Lena raises her eyebrows and tilts her head, waiting for me to go on.

“I just. . . I postponed the move again so we could celebrate New Years together and— Ah, now that I’m saying it out loud it sounds so silly. This isn’t much of a gift, actually. It’s more like a surprise, but—“

“I love it,” Lena whispers. It’s so quiet I barely hear her.

I look up with hopeful eyes and find her watching me with adoration. It makes my skin tingle and I raise my free hand to rub the back of my neck in embarrassment.

“I told you I wasn’t expecting anything in return,” she says quietly. “But this is more than I could have ever hoped for. I can buy everything I want whenever I want, but the one thing I can’t buy is time with the people I love.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of love, but I know that she doesn’t mean it the way I do when thinking about her, so I force myself to stay calm and not fidget in my seat.

Lena however takes me by surprise by doubling down and saying, “I love you, Y/N.”

I gape at her and absentmindedly squeeze her hand as she goes on.

“And I think I have loved you ever since we danced after that one gala. You were so gentle and thoughtful that night and then when you dropped to your knees that other time just to take off my heels I felt like I couldn’t breathe. You literally take my breath away and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel how you make me feel. . . I-If you let me, that is.”

It’s silent. Utterly silent because by now the fire has burned down almost completely and the record player has stopped playing music.

Lena swallows thickly and her face contorts with regret and embarrassment as the seconds go by and I still don’t say anything.

Meanwhile my brain is short circuiting and I’m still trying to wrap my head around what she just said. It’s all I wanted to hear for weeks now and even though I desperately want to say it back, I’m still too shocked to speak.

“O-Or not, you know. Just-Just forget I said anything,” she stammers. She goes to take her hand back, but the light tug on my fingers from the action is what finally snaps me out of my trance.

I tighten my grip on her hand and surge forward, kissing her. Lena gasps and for a moment she doesn’t kiss back, but then she melts into it and moves her lips against mine feverishly.

Our hands disconnected eventually, but only because mine move around Lena’s waist and Lena raises her hands to cup my face.

“I love you, too,” I mumble in between kisses, moving down to trail my lips over her neck.

I nip and suck on her delicate skin every now and then, making Lena moan against the shell of my ear.

“I need you to know that I- that I didn’t just tell you to keep you from leaving,” she stammers breathlessly. “I want this and I want you and- and I will wait however long it takes.”

I hum against her throat and pull her toward me until she’s straddling my lap.

“I know,” I say, my voice low when I pull back to look up at her.

Her lipstick is smudged and her pupils are blown and when I squeeze her waist, she drops her hands from my cheeks and moves them to the back of my neck.

“And I promise I will come back as soon as I figure everything out. I want you, too, and I can’t wait to start our future together,” I admit honestly which makes Lena’s gaze soften.

Her dark eyes dance between mine, obviously searching for any sign that I’m lying, and when she finds none, she leans back down to connect our lips once again.

It starts off soft and gentle, but it quickly speeds up again until we’re both panting against each other’s mouth.

It heats up to the point where we’re both clawing at each other desperately and Lena is grinding down on my lap, but before things can go any further I stop her by gripping her hips harshly, stopping her movements.

“S-sorry, I got carried away,” she whispers against my lips, touching her forehead against mine with her eyes closed.

“It’s okay,” I reply just as quietly, loosening my grip on her hips. “But maybe we should stop.”

Lena nods against my forehead with a sigh. “Maybe we should.”

“Yeah. . .” I close my eyes as well, enjoying the closeness and the feeling of her warm body against mine. “Definitely.”

The tension between us is thick as we’re both trying to catch our breath, but it doesn’t last very long because before I know it our teeth and tongues clash again and we’re kissing once again as though we can’t get enough of each other.

“What happened to nothing is going to happen between us?” I ask into the kiss, moaning softly when Lena bites down on my lower lip.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she admits quietly, peppering kisses all over my jaw and chin. “Is that okay for you?”

I nod adamantly, all the nerves about where this night might lead suddenly gone. “Yes. More than okay, actually, but. . .my leg. I can’t really— You know. . .” I trail off and look down, ashamed.

The painkillers started wearing off some time ago which is why my leg is sore and stiff now. I’m also not supposed to be too active yet, and according to Dr. Mike sex is one of the things I should hold off on doing for a little while longer.

“Hey, look at me.” Lena’s hands are soft on the side of my neck and she brushes her thumbs over my jaw.

I do as she says and meet her gentle eyes. She’s looking at me with so much love it makes my heart flip and when she tells me that it’s okay and that we don’t have to go any further than this I shake my head, determined to at least make her feel good.

“Are you sure?” she asks me, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I am. Are you?” I ask in return and she nods, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “Okay. . . What do you want?”

She bites her lip and the love in her eyes is once again replaced by desire. “Just you.”

I chuckle and tilt my head up to brush my lips against hers. “I can do that,” I whisper before kissing her again.

She responds immediately and kisses back insistently as one of my hands settles around her lower waist while the other slides onto her bare thigh.

Her dress has ridden up her legs since I pulled her onto my lap, which allows me easier access to her hot skin.

She shivers when I let my fingers dance over the inside of her thigh and breaks the kiss to rest her forehead against my shoulder.

“Please,” she moans when I kiss down her neck and across her collar bone. “Please. . .”

The desperation in her voice makes my lower stomach tighten and I can’t help but oblige, slipping my hand up the inside of her thigh and beneath her dress.

Lena tenses and holds her breath for a second before jerking her hips forward at the first touch of my fingers against her.

“Shit!” she curses underneath her breath and I wait a couple of seconds for her to get used to the feeling.

Then, once she’s relaxed again, I start moving my hand, watching in awe as her jaw slackens at the sensation.

“Good?” I ask quietly, guiding her body with my arm around her waist to match the movement of my hand.

“Y-Yes,” she stutters around a low moan.

I smile against the skin of her neck, and press a kiss to the freckle on her throat.

If you told me this is where I’d be now a week ago, I would have called you crazy and out of touch with reality. Now though, nothing feels more real than this and the way Lena is digging her nails into the back of my neck is grounding more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper in her ear and the whine I receive in return goes straight to my lower stomach.

I tighten my grip around her waist and add another finger, groaning when Lena bites my shoulder to silence a high pitched moan.

“Y/N. . .” She pants when I speed up my movement and I can’t help but leave a little love bite at the base of her throat.

“You close?” I ask, my own breath coming out in short bursts.

Lena nods weakly and her mouth opens in a silent scream as her whole body begins to tremble on top of me.

“Okay, darling. Whenever you’re ready. . .” I coo, curling my fingers every now and then until she squeals and writhes uncontrollably.

I slow down my movements to guide her through her high before carefully pulling my hand out from beneath her dress.

I wipe my fingers on my pants, chuckling when Lena mumbles fuck against my neck, and engulf her in a tight hug.

“You have quite a dirty mouth, Miss Luthor,” I tease, drawing shapes on her back to further calm her down.

“Yeah, well I’m half Irish and you’re just too good at that.” She laughs lightly and squeezes my shoulder playfully before moving her head off my shoulder to look at me with a more serious expression. “Uh—Listen, there’s something I haven’t been completely honest with you about.”

I raise my eyebrows in question and still my hands on her back. “Oh?”

Lena sighs deeply and places her hands on my chest, probably feeling how rapidly my heart is still beating. “I know I told you that I didn’t come visit you in the hospital because I felt guilty about what Lex did, but that’s not the only reason I stayed away.”

She watches me for my reaction and when I nod for her to continue, she clenches her jaw nervously.

“I was in Metropolis for like two weeks because I met up with lawyers and investors. You see. . . I heard what Lex said about you and how someone like me could never be interested in someone like you because I’m this Fortune 500 CEO and you’re just you.”

I frown and avert my eyes, only now remembering all the things Lex said about me.

Before my mind can spiral though Lena goes on.

“And that made me so angry, you know, because how can he say you’re just you when you’re everything to me?” She smiles sadly and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You’re my entire world and when he said all those things I realized just how unhappy I was until I met you. I may be the CEO of a successful company, but you showed me that life is about little joys rather than business meetings and stock deals. It’s about getting excited over Pains au Chocolats and dancing when no music is playing. It’s about falling asleep in the arms of the person you love and crying over sad movies on a random Tuesday night.”

My lips twitch into a smile at that last part, remembering the time Lena and I were a blubbering mess after Marley & Me while she was staying at my apartment.

“I love you, Y/N, and just like you I want to find out and do what I really want to do with my life. Until now, my mother or Lex always told me what to do, whether it’s playing chess rather than filed hockey in school, or forcing me to major in business and engineering rather than just the latter.”

I give her an encouraging smile and kiss the inside of her wrist when she drops her hand from my hair to rest against my cheek.

“Which is why-” she finally concludes, making me gasp at the reveal- “I sold L-Corp.”

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. “You did?! How come I haven’t heard about this yet? I mean, surely it would be all over the news if the Lena Luthor sold her family’s company.”

Lena shrugs as if it’s no big deal and fixes my collar with the hand that is not currently on my face. “I payed them to hold off on the story until I got the chance to tell you myself.”

I gasp. That must have cost a fortune and let’s not overlook the fact that she literally just sold her family’s entire heirloom.

“Lena— I don’t know— I can’t believe you— How did you—? When did you—?” I scoff in disbelief and laugh at my own stuttering before settling on asking, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is are you happy?”

Lena beams and her eyes sparkle. “I am. I’m happier than ever and since selling the company I’ve finally gotten back into reading and tinkering with stuff in my private lab.”

My heart aches in a good way and I tilt my head up to press a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw. “That’s amazing. I’m very proud of you.”

Suddenly shy under my adoring gaze, Lena drops her chin to her chest and looks up at me through her eyelashes. “Thank you.”

I resume tracing shapes onto her back and run my nose up the length of her neck, placing kisses to her flushed skin every now and then. “You’re welcome, my love. Now that that’s all out in the open though, I want to continue what we were doing before.”

Lena smirks mischievously and tilts her head back to give me better access, her shyness suddenly gone as though it was never there to begin with. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?” she whispers, already sounding breathless.

“I want to taste you,” I state without missing a beat which makes Lena blush furiously. “Would you be up for that?”

She nods eagerly and climbs off my lap before helping me to my feet although she’s not all too stable on her own feet.

We make our way to the bedroom, giggling and stealing kisses all the way there until the door slams shut behind us.

Lena pushes me up against the door and attacks my lips in a bruising kiss. She runs her fingers through my hair and down my neck and chest until I can’t take it anymore.

I spin her around and kiss down the back of her neck before whispering in her ear, asking if I can take off her dress.

Her only reply is a yes, please, and within the blink of an eye, her dress is on the floor, pooled around her feet.

I help her step out of it and as soon as she turns around and the moonlight from outside illuminates her pale skin I gasp in wonder.

My eyes rake over her, drinking her in as she slowly steps up to me again with darkened eyes. “Are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to do what you said you would?”

I exhale shakily, her teasing being the only thing I need to spring into action, and hoist her up my body by the back of her legs.

She yelps in surprise and wraps her arms around my neck before giggling and kissing the shell of my ear.

I have no idea where all that strength came from and how I managed to lift her without my leg giving out, but here we are and I sure as hell am not going to drop her, so I quickly move toward the bed and place her down on it.

She shuffles up the mattress until her head is on one of the pillows before grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me down on top of her.

“Someone’s eager,” I say committing every detail of her face to memory but it seems as though her patience is wearing thin because she swiftly leans up to reconnect our lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she mumbles into the kiss and, honestly, who would I be to deny such a request.

________________________________________________

Phew that was a long one, but it’s also been a long time coming and it’s the last part, so I guess it’s only fair that it’s on the longer side.

Anyway, I wanted to thank each and every one of you for all the love and support you’ve shown for this story and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

As I mentioned before, this is the last part, but I will probably write an epilogue for it in the future.

For now, my focus is on other stories though and I hope that if you enjoyed this you’ll also check out my other fics.

Again, thanks for all the love and support!

Hugs and kisses!

— Soph :)

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha @likeornella @rosea-reginae @aca-biitch @jujuu23 @likeornella

* not proofread yet bc I’m a lazy shit and I just want to get this out there <3

[thenickgirl]

Sub!Nick HeadCanons

nick x male!reader

requested by: nonnie 🎀 and @sukiipjs

disclaimer: this is all fictional and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: short-ish. not proofread, nsfw, cursing.

NSFW

♕ as a sub, he’s happy to give up control, he loves it even; however, he’s a power bottom, so you’re playing by his rules even when you think aren’t.

♕ he’s a absolute brat and uses that to get what he wants, and he always gets what he wants. when he doesn’t get his way, he’s huffing and puffing, rolling his eyes until you put him in his place.

♕ he’ll start an argument, or fake having an attitude just so that you’ll fuck it out of him.

“lose the attitude, nicolas, and i’m not fucking playing”

“or what?”

♕ he’s very touchy and handsy, loves being under you, rubbing and touching all over you. when he’s in the mood he’ll tease you, palming you through your clothes, kissing your neck and nipping at your ear.

♕ riding and doggy are his favorite positions, as a power bottom they still give him a sense of control.

♕ he loves to show off his perfect arch for you when you’re fucking him from behind. he’ll fuck you back, throwing his ass back on you.

♕ he loves riding you, rolling his hips back and forth and in a circular motion, making your eyes roll back. his thick thighs slapping against your waist as he bounces on your cock, his walls clenching around you perfectly.

♕ he loves to be praised, nothing gets him going more.

“you’re being such a good boy for me”

“yeah, am i making you feel so good, baby?”

“god you’re so good, mm fuck”

♕ he also loves being degraded, calling him your little slut, or talking down to him drives him crazy.

♕ he loves being overstimulated even when he claims he doesn’t. he’s telling you it’s too much, and that he can’t take it, but the pleasure is so good he’s begging you not to stop.

“y/n p-please…i c-can’t”

*minutes later*

“oh my god, don’t stop don’t stop…mm i’m so close”

♕ he loves sucking you off. he’s given up control as a sub, but this gives him a little bit of his power back. any chance he gets to wrap his pink plump lips around your cock he’s taking it. his soft delicate hands gripping your thighs as he takes every inch of you with ease. he’s looking up at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes, as he bobs his head back and forth over and over, coming to a halt when his nose hits your stomach, moaning around you as your tip hits the back of his throat. he loves the way your body shakes for him, and the way you pull and tug on his hair. he’ll let his jaw go slack allowing you to fuck his throat until you spill into his mouth and he swallows appreciatively.

♕ he hates cum shots. he’ll swallow your cum with ease, but doesn’t like it on him. he gets turn on though when he comes for you and you lick it off of him.

♕ he’s very loud, never ashamed to let it be known that you’re pleasing him. he’s moaning loud, gasping, whimpering and whining.

“f-fuck baby you’re fucking me so good”

“mm so big baby, filling me up so well”

♕ he secretly loves when you leave marks on him, he’ll complain the next day, but in reality he loves to look at them and think back to your wild night.

♕ he loves to be handled roughly. he gets excited when you pin his hands down above his head, he loves being choked out and tied up.

♕ he likes having toys used on him. he loves when you place the vibrator on his nipples or the tip of his cock, making him shake. he’s gripping the sheets tightly and moaning your name over and over.

♕ afterwards, he’s so worn out from everything that once you get cleaned up he falls asleep right away.

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @freshloveforthefit @orangelala @moonk1ss3d @imsosillygoofylol @sturniolossss @matty-bear @mybelovednick @ghostking4m

[isabelleneville]

♕ @dailytudors TUDOR WEEK 2024 ♕

Day Three: Best Tudor What If >> 2/2 - HENRY FITZROY LIVES

Henry, Duke of Richmond, the beloved first son of Henry VIII born out of wedlock survives his sickness of 1536. Henry was made a possible heir to his father by the 1536 Successions Act until the birth of a child by his third stepmother Jane Seymour who had recently married his father.

During this time Fitzroy consummates his marriage with his wife Mary the daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. They later had four children, three sons one named after himself and his beloved father, one after St. George and one after his wife's father Thomas, and, a daughter named after his wife and beloved sister Mary, the latter stood as godmother to the younger Mary.

In 1537, his beloved brother, the future Edward VI is born, however Fitzroy's stepmother Jane only survives the birth by a few days. During the official mourning period Fitzroy provides a strong support to his father during his grief and emerges in court as one of the possible leading figures.

Henry then lived through his father marrying another two women, one ending in divorce and the other in execution, the latter being the cousin of his wife, but, during the time of this marriage, Fitzroy was abroad as he was the ambassador to France as he had been educated in the court of Francis I and was close friends with the Dauphin.

Once recalled from France after his father's disastrous fifth marriage he became a prominent figure in court after many leading courtiers left places vacant after being executed by his father (the gaping hole Thomas Cromwell left was widely felt even by his enemies). In this time he starts to take part in the council and education of his brother Edward with his father and appoints a few of his tutors.

In 1543 he was in attendance for his father's last marriage to Catherine Parr who is only six years his senior and was the sister of his close friend Thomas. During this time not only does Catherine bring his youngest sister Elizabeth back into the fold she also further nurtures Henry VIII's relationship with all his children and now grandchildren. Mary Fitzroy, Duchess of Richmond becomes a close confidant and part of the Queen's inner circle and the fourth lady of the court after her step-mother-in-law and sisters-in-law and even outranking the ex-Queen Anne of Cleves now known as the Kings Sister solidifying Henry Fitzroy as a possible heir after his own brother, debatably in front of his sisters.

During 1544 Henry accompanied his father on a campaign which later became known Battle of Boulogne where he learnt warfare and matters of the military.

In 1547 his beloved and larger-than-life father died, leaving his brother Edward VI a young King in his minority. Richmond's careful years of tutelage in the ever-changing court of his father proved to be a well-earned place in the council of his brother while he provided a much-needed balance between his brother's maternal family the Seymours, the rising faction of the protestants and the well-known conservative faction which included his sister Mary. During this time Henry became the leading figure of court and council and the well-accepted heir of his brother as he was the senior male.

Henry having strong links to France secured an advantageous marriage for his brother to Princess Elizabeth of France the daughter of his longtime friend which proved fruitful. It is debated that during the earlier days of his reign after his minority - before Queen Elizabeth had sons - Edward considered bestowing the title of the Duke of York on his brother.

Henry oversaw the marriages of his sons to daughters of the Seymour, Howard and Grey families and the marriage of his much-loved daughter Mary - who is said to be his favourite child - off to a son of John Dudley (Mary then ended up being a sister-in-law in marriage to her Tudor Aunt Elizabeth who had married one of John's other sons Robert).

Henry died strong in his position as the most prominent man at court after his brother, the King, having seen through and guided him in his minority. He was survived by his wife and four children.

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 4·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N: Hey guys! I managed to get this chapter out early coz I am so hot and amazing at everything my social life is at an all time low and we have Easter break. Some foreshadowing if you guys can guess, but keep it to yourselves for now. Mommy issues y/n? That’s a first 😨😨😨😨. This chapter is also Lucifer basically being: “No, you’re so sexy haha don’t cry”

Also, the slow burn is burning now! YAYYA 🎉

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Enjoy! <3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

You sit on the patio of your home, feeling as though you’re rotting away. 

It’s been 5 days since Adam’s full blown out tantrum, but it feels like it’s been 5 lifetimes. 

A cockatiel lands on your table, its bulging inky eyes staring at you, vying for your attention. 

You laugh, and give it some crumbs of your leftover toast from breakfast that you couldn’t bear to finish.

The bird eats them graciously, and flies away, you watching enviously. 

Oh, how you wished you were that bird. Carefree, and not trapped in the gilded cage that you are in. 

If only… 

Bzz bzz

Your phone rings. The contact Mom glows on your screen. 

Unwillingly, you swipe right. 

“Hey mom, what's up?” This woman never calls you, unless there are three instances; she needs you to get her something of monetary worth, wishing you a happy birthday/any other significant holiday, or-

“Darling, there's something I need to talk to you about. A little birdie told me that you've been stepping out of line recently~” 

Ah yes. The third instance. The times when your actual fucking personality shows, even for a sliver of a moment, and how it  could potentially hurt your ‘relationship’ with Adam. 

“Mom, it's not that big of a deal. I just was feeling rough recently, and-”

“Well it doesn't matter what you feel does it? What matters is that you honour our family. Being married to Adam is what's best for you. You acting outwardly is seriously jeaprodising your relationship, and I am just trying to help you stop before it's too late,” Your maternal figure’s sing-song-like voice turns sharp in an instant, like it could cut through butter. 

“You were always a wild child, a disappointment, I am trying to help you-”

You interrupt. 

“How are you helping?! Belittling me, treating me as some sort of– some do Ill?! I have tried, given my whole entire fucking life, trying to please you in every way, but somehow, it's never enough! And when I do fuck up, suddenly I'm a failure in your eyes?!” 

Silence.

“You better mind your language young lady,”

“NO! I will NOT mind my FUCKING LANGUAGE. I will  swear when I want to, and I will do whatever I FUCKING WANT! I AM DONE WITH YOU AND YOU- YOUR WAY OF THINGS!” 

You press the end button, calmly. 

You storm up to your bedroom and closed the door. Calmly.

You look at the bookshelf, always so perfectly clean, scarce of dust. 

Perfectly clean, no imperfections. 

You let out a cry of irritation and just start throwing out books, ripping the pages of each, crumpling sheets of paper, sobbing hot angry tears while doing so. 

When that was done, you just bring the entire bookshelf down with a bang, and you stomp on it until you feel a sharp pain in your foot, surely that's a splinter right there. 

You stumble over into your bed and scream and cry in your pillow, amongst the mess.

You submerge yourself in your pillow even more, until your anger numbs away, leaving you with a throbbing pain in your head. 

Absolutely drained from your outburst, you drift off. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

Everywhere is foggy. 

You look around, looking for anything of use, when your attention is turned to a glowing light, placed on a rusted pedestal. 

Since it's the only thing that piques interest, you touch the fluorescent ball and yelp when it scorches your hand.

“Ow,” you pull your hand away and decide to look for anything else. 

As you trek through the nothingness, you  feel like you're being tugged down by an anchor, or treading through quicksand. 

Suddenly, the ground gives way under your feet. 

You’re falling. 

The cold air whistles through your ears. 

You try to fly with your wings, but nothing; it feels like they have been ruthlessly ripped from your body.

You feel as though you're being stretched, squished and deformed like play dough, until you hear and feel something cracking. As you fall, you look towards the light. 

At the entrance of the hole, there are many, unidentifiable figures, just, staring at your downfall. 

You want to scream and cry for help, but it feels like your mouth has been cemented shut. 

A faint noise calls your name, which sounds closer and closer each time as you fall helplessly. 

You make a successful-ish attempt to turn on your stomach. 

In your horror, you see a halo, cracked and muted of its previous glow. Your halo.

Not that far below you, there are hot red coals. 

Oh God. 

The voice becomes louder and closer and you hit the ground with a scream. 

You jump up, to find yourself back in the dump that is your bedroom, slicked with sweat. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! Are you alright?” Emily, who was tentatively paving the way to get to your pathetic self. 

“Emi, hi… Yeah, just eh, rough day,” you smile weakly at the Seraphim, who’s concerned expression shows that she doesn't believe you, but she doesn’t want to put you under pressure.

“What’s all of this?” Emily motions to the wrecked room.  

“Adam pulled a tantrum again?” 

“Huh? Oh that, nono, sorry uhm,” you pause to clean the room as it was with the snap of your fingers.

“Why are you here Emi? Do you need something?” You wipe your eyes, but your bloodshot eyes are still apparent. 

“No, I just wanted to hang out with you, but I can come back if it's a bad time,” The Seraphim stumbles over her words as she looks up at you, slightly flushing.

“No, no you can stay. I’m just a little bit shaken up, but yep you can stay. Uhm….” you trail off. 

This place is feels really constraining

You need an escape. 

“Hey Emily, wanna go on an adventure?” You put on a face of newfound enthusiasm. The Seraphim just had that effect on people.

“Of course! But er, where?” 

“Shh, it's a surprise, now let's go!” You push Emily into the portal you made and go in yourself. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Woah, this is what it's like?” Emily says as she looks around the hellish landscape like a lost puppy.

She snaps out of it when you drag her out of the way of a thrown carcass headed towards the both of you. 

“Yeah, let's head inside,” You manoeuvre her into the hotel. 

The lobby is more populated than your last visits to the establishment, though all faces are familiar. 

“Emily, meet Angel, Husk Alastor, Charlie, who you know already, and-” Your voice dies down in your throat at the sight of the Demon King, with his strapping jacket and top hat. 

What is going on with you today? 

“And Lucifer,” You motion to the King, who gives you both an acknowledging nod. 

Your heart misses a beat. 

“Well uh, there's one more but I don't know where she is… WOAH NIFFTY!”

The little scamp runs towards the Seraphim with a knife about to stab her with malicious intent. 

“Niffty, no. No stabbing any more angels we talked about this,” Angel grabs the knife from the housemaid and throws it in the trash can. 

“Ugh, not a bad boy,” Nifty grumbles and begrudgingly rushes off to god knows where. 

“Well everyone, this is Emily, not sure if Charlie has told you about her but-”

“Is she your kid?” Angel asks. 

“I’m sorry, what? Oh no, no she is not my kid pff,” you say. 

“Huh,”

“Well as I was trying to say, Emily here is another person on our side,” You give Emi an encouraging squeeze of the shoulders. 

“Well this is quite the improvement. Salutations! Pleasure to meet you,” The radio demon greets himself, extending his hand to shake Emily's. 

She takes it, though cautious. 

She turns to Charlie and warms up to the amicable face. 

“Hi, Emily, er obviously you know who I am,” The princess of Hell welcomes her, as some of the other Hotel residents go off doing their own thing. 

“Oh yes. Y/N told me about you, obviously we've met before, but under less casual circumstances,” Emily scrambles for conversation. 

Obviously, they need a little push to loosen up with each other. 

“Charlie, maybe show Emily the garden? Or maybe the entire hotel for that matter. Emi here has been dying to have a look around,” 

“Oh yes! Let me show you some of the suites, I decorated them myself,” Filled with giddiness, Charlie beckons the Seraphim upstairs.  

Emily turns to you, unsure. 

“Go on, don't worry, I'll be waiting here!” You give her a persuasive smile and shoo the pair upstairs. 

Now you had some time to kill…

“Hey!” 

“Agh!” You jump at the voice of Lucifer. 

“Geez, am I that scary?” He laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“Pff as if-” You snicker and give him a playful shove back.

“Anyway, how've you been? How's the old rusted machine been?”

“Are you always going to make digs and remarks at my husband in an attempt to get all three of his wives in your pants?” You raise an eyebrow sarcastically.

He sighs, feigning sorrow. “You know me too well. I thought it was the perfect plan, but clearly I'll have to tune it a bit,” The demon rattles on, but your brain fixates on the one word he said. 

Perfect. 

Something you try so, so hard to be, but apparently isn't enough for your mom. 

If your mom doesn't love you as you are. 

Well, what's to say anyone can? 

“Well, what do you say, Butter-Duck? You have to find a nickname for me, but I'll call you that regardless, hmm?”

His question brings you back to the conversation. 

Which, leads you to ugly, fat tears. 

Lucifer’s face contorts into panic. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, it's was a rubbish nickname, sorry I thought it was funny-” He puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“No, no it's not that,” You rub your eyes, your voice croaky. 

“The reason is quite silly, really, it's fine, I'm just being stupid hahha,”

Lucifer is not convinced. 

“Listen, you helped me out the other day, and even though I'm not good at this comforting stuff, please, at least let me listen,” He gives you a weak, gorgeous smile, one that is enough to make you stop crying about. 

Okay, it's really becoming an issue of you being distracted by…

Him.

“Well, just an argument with my mom; basically just her saying how much of a disappointment I am and-” your voice creaks.

“And?”

“And I suddenly just don’t feel like her daughter,just a burden she has to put up with, and then what’s the point of all of this if you're not perfect,” 

And breathe. 

You put your face in your hands. 

“I’ll never find love,” 

“Hang on, but isn't Adam your husband? Don't you love him?” 

“No, I don't. It was a marriage purely organised by my parents. Completely transactional,” you mutter dejectedly. 

“Shit, that really sucks. Listen, I know it's hard to hear, but you need to hear it. Nobody is perfect. No one. That's what makes people interesting. And your mom wanting you to be that is far from perfect of her. Not sure if you're aware, but we're in Hell, right now, amongst many people who are basically morality rejects. But you, you're a Winner. Not in the physical sense, but also metaphorically. And for what it's worth…” Lucifer takes a moment to mull over his next words. 

“Many people love you, like Charlie and, that Seraphim, Emilia?”

“Emily” You amend. 

“Anyway, that's besides the point. The point is that you have many people that adore you, and that's what matters most,” Lucifer comes closer and stiffly puts his arms around you, which you return. 

“Thank you, Lucifer,” You sniffle into his shoulder. 

“No problem, anytime. You are my friend after all,” He gently smiles.

Your heart flutters. Friend? As in, person he considers more than an acquaintance? 

“So, what's this about a Butter-Duck?” You tease. 

“What? I thought it'd be a cool nickname for you,” He huffs. 

“Alright, alright… Let me think of a nickname for you then… Lulu!” 

He grimaces. “Ugh, that sounds like a name for a baby products brand!”

“Oddly specific, but if it annoys you more, all the better!” 

“Ugh, you're like worst than some sinners here I swear,” 

“Who said Angel’s can't be jokesters too?” You give him a wink. 

He coughs, a rosy red complexion appearing on his face.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

Emily and Charlie come back into the lobby, to you and Lucifer making small talk on the couch. 

“Ready to go?”

 Emily nods. She goes to hugs Charlie, which is reciprocated. 

“Well, I’ll see you around?” You squeeze the demon’s king hand. 

He looks at you, and nods, hesitant to return the gesture, as if you were glass. 

“Yes, I will,” 

As you and Emily leave to make your way back to Heaven, you could've sworn you heard Lucifer whisper three words. 

“I love you,” 

You turn back with a questioning expression, but all that was on his face was nonchalance.

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 2,194~

Taglist:

@dionysusismypatrongod

@glowymxxn

@froggybich

[everestica]

♕Blade x Reader: General Headcannons♕

♛ - Hello! I'm finally back from my break, and I'm so excited to be back! I'm not exactly sure how much I'll be able to write this week, since I not only have school, and work, but also I'm covering for one of my co-workers this week, so I'll be at work almost all week!

Overprotective, will not let you go anywhere, unless you have the other stellaron hunters or he’s following behind you in his getup

You’re probably really good friends with Kafka, not only because she probably got you and Blade together

Playing so many games with Silverwolf because Blade always refuses, but he’ll always sit with you, either sitting behind you with him in between his legs, or sitting next to him with you slightly resting on his chest

He always seems like he never wants to be approached or anything but kinda likes it whenever you come to him with anything, good news, bad news, something that’s happening in a show/game, really anything

Really good listener, will let you just rant for hours on end

When you two first started dating and everything he would still talk about trying to die and trying to get rid of his immortality, but after he saw how uncomfortable you were with it so he stopped

Kafka always teases him about it, the way that he changes some things he does, ex. Not talking about dying, always being close to you whenever they have to stand or have meetings, not letting you leave anywhere by yourself, following you around the base, (you're in the living room, so is he. You wanna take a nap in your room? Suddenly he’s tired too.) when you ask for anything he’ll go get something

Will get pissed off/pouty if you have to go on a mission without him, or with anybody else from the stellaron hunters. Especially if you are supposed to be done by a certain point and you aren’t back yet

Hates when you spend more time with others then him, but he won’t say anything

He’s not big on words so sometimes it’s really hard to tell what he’s feeling so your best bets are to either wait until he get tired and more vulnerable to tell you what’s happening or, ask Kafka

Overall, really good boyfriend who will basically worship the ground you walk on, but will never say it to your face, it’s all in the actions

♛- Please if you are going to repost any of my works anywhere else, ask permission first! There will be almost a 100% chance that I will say yes as long as you just ask and give credit! Thank you for your understanding!

[tarot-archives]

♕Holding hands— Miya Twins x reader

Aromanticism | Fluff | oh yeah, this is an aromantic series for our platonic enthusiasts

"I don't want to hold your hands anymore."

"Okay,” one twin said.

"Fine by me,” the other followed.

This whole hand-holding agreement started when you were in junior high. It was the first time you went to a community festival without adult supervision. You had promised the twins for a night filled with fireworks and food escapades. Or at least, that was how you initially planned...

The thing is, after a few minutes, you got lost in the crowd of tourist and locals alike. Losing the twins made you anxious as you searched for the two. Eventually, they found you crying on the bench by one of the Takoyaki stands. As they approached, they saw that your feet suffered from red sores and bruises since your sandals broke during your search.

On that night, they comforted you as you went home. Osamu had volunteered to give you a piggyback ride as Atsumu walked beside you two, gripping the broken slipper. Since then, they always held your hand during festivals. At first, it was due to fear until it turned into a mindless habit. But now, since you would enjoy your first festival as a first-year high schooler with the twins, you figured to grow out the practice and show them just how mature you had become!

So far so good, you thought after fifteen minutes in the body-crushing crowd. The shrine was especially packed today because of the successful tourism campaign, much to your dismay.

Dead ahead, you see the familiar shade of grey and gold on top of two towering heights. Their hands were just close enough to be held, but you opted to be independent. But just to be sure...

You grabbed both ends of each respective sleeve of their burgundy jacket. You didn't hold their hand, but at least you felt secure.

It was the start of independence, so to speak...

+Headcanons for holding hands+

-Hand holding isn't an issue with them. Like it's only skin contact? People can stare at them for hecks sake. They don't care at all.

-Osamu does get bothered but only a tiny bit. Their grandmother makes it an issue but it's comments like "you'd make a great pair!"

-competitive hand holding is a thing with Atsumu. It just a squeezing contest to see who has the most hand strength.

-both hands have calluses. so it's expected to be hard textured skin.

-they won't mind the condition of your hands either. whether its soft, hard, or not functioning. they want to h o l d.

-if you have wrist pains Osamu will massage them. Kita-san had given him tips so he tries to practice them on you.

-Atsumu knows you have hand lotion. It's because he gave it to you when he saw a buy one get one deal. He casually steals them one day when he lost his one day.

-Atsumu's fingernails are trimmed and well maintained, you observed. Both of them do maintain them but Atsumu owns a fancy kit.

[wongyuseokie]

Setting the Mood | c.s.c

Summary: After a gruelling day, you want to make your boyfriend feel better and care for him. You think you’re in charge, but that lasts only a little bit. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut |  ♥ completed works Word Count:  1901 Words Pairings: Seungcheol x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Smut & fluff Content Warnings: Smut, fluff, mentions of a bathtub and candles and flowers and blindfolds. Smut Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this), pussy eating, swallowing, multiple orgasms, hand job in a bathtub. Swallowing, daddy kink, because it’s Seungcheol, duh, but very soft (mostly)daddy. Dirty talk and blindfolds, overuse of the nickname princess, baby, pretty girl and kitten. Muscle kink? Idk, man. Cheol is so fucking huge I want to cry. Facesitting. Cheol begs, squirting. 

Authors Note: Listen, this man knows how to rile me up, and so here I am. Thank you so so much to @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this. I love you so much Jess 💕 Also, as always thank you to @here4btsfics for reading this too and letting me know your thoughts! Also to @seungkwansphd I hope this helps the Cheol rot or contributes to it hehehe. Tagging: @duhnova because ily and maybe I like being yelled at. Banner Credits: @classicscreations Cross Posted on AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Baby?” Seungcheol called out once he got home. After a gruelling day of dance practice, he wanted to hop into the shower and then crawl into bed with you in his arms. 

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted, emerging from the bedroom and moving closer to him. His arms opened for you to settle in and hug him. 

“You tired?” You asked Seungcheol nodded slowly, and you smiled against his chest.

“Follow me, handsome,” you said, letting go of his embrace, taking his hand in yours, and guiding him to the bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol asked. You felt awful at the tone of his voice. He was so tired, and you knew he wanted nothing more than a quick shower and sleep, But you also knew your plan would make him so tired and feel so good that he’d sleep like a baby the entire night. 

“Helping you. You do so much work, and, for once, I want to make my daddy feel good,” you said softly, guiding Seungcheol into the bathroom. Seungcheol smiled softly at you and turned that smile into delight the minute he took in the bathroom. 

You lit vanilla and peony-scented candles around the bathtub, the tub overflowing with bubbles, and soft jazz music played in the background. 

“Baby, I’m tired, I appreciate this, but I don’t think I have it in me to do a lot,” Seungcheol started to say. 

“Daddy, tonight is about you. Let me do the work, please. I want to make you feel good,” you said softly, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt and pulling it off his toned body. 

“They need to close the gyms. You’re so fucking big now, Cheolie,” you whispered, tracing your hands over him, gently grazing your nails down his well-defined pecs, slightly brushing over his nipples, and then resting your hands on his now rock-solid abs. 

“But are you complaining, princess? I know you like it when I pick you up and fuck you against the wall,” Seungcheol teased, making you smile shyly.

“No, I don’t,” you said, smirking, your hands moving down to his grey sweats. 

“These, however, are illegal, you’re killing me, and I’m sure your fans are writhing watching you in this fit,” you mused, making Seungcheol smirk, 

“But only you can see it. Only you can touch,,” Seungcheol whispered low, making your core clench. “Only you can suck, can fuck…”

“No underwear?” You asked. You wondered when your hands went underneath his sweats and rubbed the tip of his cock, which was starting to harden, instead of another layer of material. Seungcheol shrugged in response. 

“Again, are you complaining?” Seungcheol responded cockily.

“No, I’m not,” you responded, smiling, kneeling and pulling down his sweats. Seungcheol stepped out of the sweats and kicked them across the bathroom floor.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Seungcheol asked. You stood up and pointed to the bathtub. Seungcheol nodded, sighing softly in relief as the warm water immediately soothed his sore muscles, 

“Fuck, this bath feels amazing,” Seungcheol moaned.

“Princess, can you join me?” He was looking at you with all the love possible in his eyes, and you immediately melted, nodding. You pulled your robe off, and Seungcheol groaned. 

“Fuck, you were naked underneath that stupid silk this all this time?” 

You just grinned in response. Seungcheol held out his hand, and you took it once you approached the tub to step into it. You climbed into his lap, and Seungcheol smiled, his hands encircling your waist, pulling you closer to his taut body. 

“Daddy, this is about you, not me,” you pouted, making Seungcheol smirk. 

“Okay, kitten, make me feel good,” Seungcheol said, laying back against the tub. 

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his plush ones. You melted into the kiss. Kissing Seungcheol was almost addictive. You couldn’t get over how soft his lips were, how plump they were, and how you would always end up seeing fireworks no matter where his lips were on your body. Seungcheol moaned into the kiss the minute your hand grazed his now fully erect cock. The moan allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss. 

You kept kissing Seungcheol, the one hand on his chest casually brushing over his nipples, which made him shudder and buck his length against your core. 

“Baby,” Seungcheol pulled away from your lips to catch his breath and admire you. You moved your lips down to his neck, carefully pressing enough pressure to elicit a moan from him, but not so strong that it would leave a mark. 

“Do you like it?” You asked Seungcheol, who lazily nodded, smiling at you, lust overtaking his handsome features. “Touch me, please,” Seungcheol begged, and it shot straight to your cunt, making you smirk. It gave you all sorts of ideas about making this man, usually in control, beg. He must have read your mind because he quickly added a warning. “Let’s get this straight. This is the only time I’ll beg, pretty girl.” 

 “Well, now you at least know how I feel,” you teased after a roll of your eyes. 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathed out when your hand wrapped around his thick cock. You didn’t move your hand, though, like you knew he wanted. You just wrapped it around the tip and ran your finger along his slit, the water allowing you to do that very quickly.

“I love you,” you said as you moved your other hand under the water to cup and massage his balls, making him tighten his grip on the porcelain tub. 

“I fucking love you, and I’m not just saying this because you’re making me feel so fucking good, princess,” Seungcheol said, breathing heavily, and whined when you pulled your hands off his cock. 

“Baby!” Seungcheol whined, making you laugh.

“Now you know how it feels, but I won’t torture you since I’m nice. Can you get out of the tub?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded immediately.

You held Seungcheol’s hand, guiding him out of the tub and back to the bedroom. 

You gently nudged him making him fall back on the bed, and crawled up, so your body was straddling his. You reached over to grab the silk blindfolds on the bedside table and gently placed them over your boyfriend’s eyes, which was almost torture for you because his eyes were so piercing. Still, you knew if you wanted to regain control over him, he couldn’t be staring at you, undoing you with a single look. 

“Fuck, Cheol!” You gasped when Seungcheol’s hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up to his mouth. You hissed in pleasure the minute his plush lips wrapped around your clit, and you hated how well he knew your body that he didn’t even need to see anything to make you fall apart.

“Cheolie, baby,” you mewled as he flicked your clit with his tongue. For the perfect contrast, his mouth enclosed your clit and sucked. You pulled the blindfold off his eyes because you loved watching him, especially sitting on his face. You loved seeing those eyes of his watch you fall apart at his mercy. 

You sighed in pleasure one more time before reluctantly pulling your pussy off his mouth. You moved down his body, capturing his lips with yours in a soft kiss sighing softly when you tasted yourself.

“Can I ride you, baby?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded, making you smile. You slowly moved down his body until you straddled his thick thighs. Lifting your hips, you aligned his thick cock against your entrance and hissed as you sank into his length. 

“Princess, this is better when I prep you and get your pretty little pussy soaking fucking wet before I fuck you senseless,” Seungcheol said, smirking, earning a glare from you. 

“This is about you,” you said, pouting and Seungcheol softened, nodding. “Then take me, princess,” Seungcheol said, lying down, sighing the minute you lifted your hips and started to find a rhythm and a perfect position. At this angle, his thick length would hit all the spots inside you that made you clench tightly around his cock. However, Seungcheol was not one for giving up control in the bedroom, and not that you minded, but his need to be in control slowly kicked in. 

“Ah, shit!” you gasped as Seungcheol started to rub your clit furiously. He got off on making you fall apart for him, and at this moment, he was convinced he was about to cum inside you any second, the way you were tightening around his cock. He would be damned if he came before you did. Your pleasure came above all for him, no matter how dominant he was. 

“Baby, hold on,” Seungcheol said before carefully flipping the position so that you were now underneath him. 

“Fucking hell,” you wailed out in pleasure as Seungcheol finally found a position that allowed him to pound into you. His thrusts were hard, relentless and purposeful. Each thrust pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Don’t. You’re going to cum again. I don’t care how many times that is, but I won’t stop fucking you until I cum, let the neighbours hear how good I fuck my baby,” Seungcheol spoke, his voice low and husky and gently biting your earlobe before continuing to fuck you hard. You were sure his back was now covered in scratch marks, and you felt your eyes roll back in pleasure. You knew he was trying to make you squirt. He loved it. He loved knowing he was the only one who could make you feel so good. 

“Fucking hell, I’m close, princess,” Seungcheol breathed out. As his thrusts got sloppier, he suddenly pulled out and gave a quick instruction, “on your knees, princess.” 

You shakily got on your knees and opened your mouth, allowing Seungcheol to position his cock against your open mouth.  He stroked himself a few times before he released it in your mouth, groaning and hissing as he came. Seungcheol pulled his cock out of your mouth, but not before you licked his tip, making him whine in overstimulation, earning a playful glare. He pulled you back to your feet and lightly pushed you onto the bed.

“Ah, Cheol!” you screamed as he plunged two fingers into you and thrust them in and out of your cunt, furiously until you were screaming. All you could do was hold his forearm for support as you came, squirting over his fingers and the sheets. You felt lightheaded and smiled softly when you felt yourself being pulled into Seungcheol’s chest, his strong arms wrapping around you. 

“Fuck, this was meant to be about you, baby,” you said, and Seungcheol could feel your pout on his chest. 

“Princess, look at me,” Seungcheol said softly, and you looked up at him. 

“You did fucking amazing, the bath was amazing, and you trying to be in control was adorable too, but you made me feel good,” Seungcheol said genuinely, making you smile. 

“You tired me out enough, and I know I’ll sleep peacefully,” Seungcheol joked. 

“Wait, Cheol! We need to change the sheets!” You exclaimed, jolting up only to be dragged back into Seungcheol’s arms. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on sheets soaked with your cum. We can deal with it tomorrow. I need you in my arms to sleep.” 

[stardustsymphony]

“that's the laugh.” || mattheo riddle

warnings: blood, kaz brekker reference, not proofread

a/n: look who finally posted! i am back from the grave but no promises to stay above the ground, i have my finals in two months with a high possibility of slipping back in the writer's slump! hope you'll enjoy this!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ♕♛♕ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

He could feel blood drip on his wrinkled white school shirt. It didn't matter to him, it was just a nose bleed from a broken nose. 

People automatically made way for him as he stormed through the hallway, he didn't hear his friends calling him from behind nor did he pay any attention to the boy who shouted at him as he bumped into him. 

He had a destination in mind and he wanted to be there before his whole shirt turns red. 

You washed your hands, examining your face in the bathroom mirror and noticed a pimple on your temple. You held back a groan. Pimples means periods. Just then, a hurried knock came on your dorm door, not stopping once. You wiped your hands on the towel and stumbled over the mess in the room towards the door and swinged it open. 

In the doorway stood none other than Mattheo Riddle with a smug grin on his face, blood dripping from his broken nose and you were sure that it was a black eye. 

“Again?” You couldn't help but sigh at his appearance, and stepped aside to let him in and closed the door. 

“Hello, darling,” He greeted with that smirk of his, eyes twinkling in amusement. His eyes swept over the room and he raised a brow, “Messy room, eh? Finally getting influenced by me now, are you?” 

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Tell me what happened.” 

He turned towards you and fell on his back on your bed with an overly exaggerated sigh. “Where do I start?” He exclaimed dramatically. 

“I don't know?” You sat on the opposite bed and mentally prepared yourself for his dramatics. “The beginning sounds good.” 

“The beginning.” Mattheo nodded. “Well, I was minding my business and saw this idiot being an idiot to a girl, touching her and all, making her uncomfortable. I saw that, and being the hero I am–”

“You're not a hero–”

“I punched his nose back in his face–”

“That's physically impossible but okay–”

“And being the idiot he was, he punched me back, big mistake from his side, might I add, and we got into a fight–”

You rolled your eyes. “I might be stupid but I know for a fact that did not happen.” 

He raised his head slightly and gave you a lopsided grin, “You know me too well.” He said, then as if realising what you just said, he added, “Did you just call yourself stupid in my presence? You know that's not allowed, young lady.” He playfully wiggled a finger at you. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened or not?” You deadpanned, “You're ruining my pillow.” 

“Ruining your pillow?” He raised himself on one of his elbow to look at you clearly. “Well, excuse my nose bleed but I perfectly remember two times you ruined my sheets with your period blood. I think this is fine.” He flopped down again. 

You threw your hands in the air and stood up, pointing towards the door. “Alright, get out.” 

Mattheo, in fact, did not get out. Instead, he sat up, holding up his hands, “Okay, okay, I'll tell you what happened but can you please do something about my face?” 

You shrugged, “Looks fine to me.” 

“Oh c'mon.” 

After some teasing and pulling, you both were in the bathroom with him sitting on the countertop, swinging his legs like a child and you standing in between them, cleaning up the blood on his face. 

“I don't know why you came here instead of going to the hospital wing.” You gave him a look, intentionally pressing a bit hard on a bruise to make him wince. 

“She asks too many questions,” He shrugged and in response lightly pinched your arm. You swat his hand away,

“Hey! Don't do that.” 

“Oh so you pressing on my bruises is okay but me pinching you isn't?” 

“Yeah,” You smiled sarcastically at him. “Because you're an idiot and I'm not.” 

He gasped overdramatically, holding back a grin. “An idiot? Me? As if!” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, “Now tell me what happened.” You told him as you shut the first aid kit. 

Mattheo's expression turned serious and he gave you a small smile, “You don't wanna know, trust me.”

You raised a brow at his sudden change of tone, “Now I'm just more interested.” 

“Well,” he sighed. “If you insist.” He shot you a teasing smirk, then his face turned serious again. “I was in the hallway and there was this guy who was talking shit about someone and I didn't pay any attention to him but then I realised he was talking shit about you so I… did what any person with a brain would do.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not meeting your eyes. 

Your heart melted but you tried not to show it on your face because it would just encourage him to fight more, something you don't want to happen. “You don't have to fight for me,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. 

He squeezed your hand back, rubbing your knuckles. “I know,” he said. “I really do, but I can't just keep my mouth shut if someone's talking shit about you, can I? Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Would you keep quiet if someone's talking shit about me?”

The answer was obvious. “Of course not,” you shook your head.

His hand lingered on yours, giving it another gentle squeeze, his cocky demeanor sliding back in. “See, you'd do it for me and I'd do it for you. We're even. Soulmates or something.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “That's not how it works, Mattheo.” you said. “I don't want you throwing punches for me, I can defend myself. I want you to stay out of trouble.” 

“I know you can defend yourself,” he said. “But you don't need to, not when I'm still with you.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words. “Thank you, really.” 

“Plus,” he winked at you. “I know you like me a little rough and reckless. Don't deny.” He jumped off the counter ruffled your hair, knowing it annoys you. 

You slapped his hand away and mockingly glared at him. “Doesn't mean I have to be the one to patch you up.” 

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms, mimicking talking with one hand. “Excuses.” 

You lightly slapped his arm, holding (and failing) back a grin. “Shut up, you're impossible.” 

“Shut up,” he repeated in a high pitched tone. “You're impossible.” 

You were having a hard time holding back your laugh at his antics. “I don't talk like that, okay?”

“I don't talk like that, okay?” 

“Shut up now, will you?”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Only if you–” he broke off to clear his throat because he was still speaking in that high pitch tone then continued. “Only if you make me.” He said, leaning towards you. 

You leaned back. “Brush your teeth first, I can still see blood in there.” 

He nudged his nose against your cheek, grinning like an idiot. “You like me bloody.” 

“No, I don't.” A laugh bubbled out of your lips and you hear him mutter under his breath,

“That's the laugh.”

[theelvenhaven]

Comforting Glorfindel

Having an Anxiety Attack

Request: If there's still headcanon slots available and one of these ideas strikes you: maybe how Glorfindel and/or Penlod would react to reader having an anxiety flair up where their normal coping mechanisms aren't working and they need extra help (platonic or romantic)? Or if that doesn't strike you, maybe vice versa where they need help from reader? I haven't been on Tumblr recently so I'm about to scroll through your blog and play catch up. Looking forward to reading what I've missed/what's coming up! I hope you're well ❤️

A/N: I decided to do this vice versa, and comfort one of our beloveds for a change. So I hope you enjoy! <;3

*****

♕ Glorfindel isn't afraid of his feelings, but he does struggle with showing his most vulnerable emotions with anyone, especially when it makes him feels so weak.

♕ Not to mention Glorfindel doesn't want to worry you about what the toll of war has taken out from him.

♕ Glorfindel will often try and put on a stronger persona in an effort to try and soothe any concerns that you may have about him.

♕ But that doesn't mean that despite all his best efforts that anxiety attacks don't creep up on him.

♕ Usually he can feel when they're about to happen, and he is quick to dismiss himself from the public place if he can.

♕ Even if you try to press if he's okay, he will only assure you he is as he hurries away.

♕ Following him out is the only way you're going to come face to face with the fact that he's having a panic attack.

♕ At first Glorfindel doesn't realize that you've followed him out, so he begins to loosen his collar and breathe shakily and heavily, his hands starting to shake and feeling like he can't breathe.

♕ By the time he turns to see if he's alone, it's too late to hide his symptoms from you, that you recognize immediately for what it is.

♕ Glorfindel is used to having deal with these himself, and he doesn't have the best coping skills, so at first he tries to thwart you from helping him.

♕ But if you persist, albeit, gently Glorfindel gives in as you reach for his hands and gently help him sit on the ground.

♕ You sit in between his legs as he cries and shakes, trying to catch his breath, helping him take slow deep breaths guiding him through it.

♕ At first Glorfindel is a bit hesitant, but your voice and the feel of your hands in his is just so soothing and he starts to listen to what you're saying.

♕ Especially as you reassure him he's safe, and that everything's going to be okay.

♕ IF anything Glorfindel is also panicking that you're going to be mad at him for having kept something like this from you and he profusely apologizes between the tears and his shaky breathing.

♕ Reassuring him calmly that it's okay, and that you're far from mad at him helps ease the anxiety, he is very receptive to your words as he trusts you implicitly.

♕ Glorfindel doesn't just respond to verbal affection and soothing, he also responds well to physical affection.

♕ Now that he knows you're not mad at him, or that you're not going to embarrass him, Glorfindel will take the opportunity to lean forward and rest his head against your shoulder and hold you close to him.

♕ When you embrace him back, he loves the feel of one arm around his neck and the other carding through his hair.

♕ It makes him feel safe and protected, even if he's the one that has to do the protecting more often than not.

♕ Holding him like this, and rocking him gently helps lift the weight off his shoulders and he rests his body weight against you- carefully.

♕ His symptoms start to die down slowly.

♕ Glorfindel's breathing becomes even, his hands stop shaking, he feels more relaxed but tired and most importantly comforted by you.

♕ He's internally kicking himself for not having brought this to your attention sooner, as going through it with you there to help him has made it a less stressful experience.

♕ As you start to check in on him asking if he's okay, Glorfindel is sheepish and confesses to you that he is not okay but he does feel better having you there with him.

♕ He doesn't part from you, but instead clings to you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go.

♕ Finally Glorfindel will start to open up to you, especially as you start to question him and what was going on.

♕ He explains to you what set him off, how long he's been suffering through these still clinging to you.

♕ Glorfindel tells you how much he loves you, and thanks you profusely for your patience with him and your lack of judgement over his predicament.

♕ Your reminder to him that of course you'd do this for him, and that you love him and his partner warms his heart.

♕ Glorfindel knows he's got his perfect one, being with you and the fact that you'd go out of your way selflessly to care for him when he was so vulnerable.

****

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

[quackity1999]

♕ [ At his words, she blinks; her pale gaze meeting his over the rims of her shades. For a moment, she's taken back to when she had met with Quackity and had been about to show him her eyes for the first time... but he had been the one to let her down then by leaving before she could. Of course she didn't blame him. Especially considering who he had been with at the time. Letting out a soft breath, her eyes closed for a moment before opening a bit as she offered him a small smile. ]

...Of course Quackity. I'll be as gentle as I can.

[ She waits a moment, before gently reaching out; lightly resting her hands against their feathers, just... letting him get adjusted to the feeling of them- since again... she doesn't want to just jump right in. Plus... he hadn't told her where he wanted her to start ]

Do you... want me to start near the base and then go from there? I just want to know so that way I can plan ahead... Where I'll move to. Or should I just start at one wing and then move to the next once the first one is done?

@the-regretful-ruler

um. shit. whew, okay. hi.

[ he can feel hands. grazing his feathers. not pressing or tugging or yanking. grazing, delicate, measured, cautious. quackity momentarily floats out of his body— short circuiting, paralysed, caught in a cage of his own making— before her fingers twitch and he's slammed back into himself. his wings tremble; electrical wire and volts and the frenetic shaking of an unsteady heartbeat. and so quackity breathes. slow. balancing. ]

shit. yeah. start at the base, middle— area? i think? and work out one by one. and one wing at a time. or it'll get a bit overwhelming.

[ he's fine, it's fine, it's just a lot. his nerve endings aren't on fire. they certainly used to be in different hands, but these aren't arriving with any bad intentions. it's okay. you're fine. breathe. don't let yourself lock up, you have the key. quackity thinks he might be swallowing down a million chirps at once. holy shit. ]

are— are you okay to do this? are you sure, eret?

[ridhearts]

The first step to your lofty diplomatic dreams starts here...

*note: the housewardens all follow a specific order! please click below for the chapters as they're intended to be read!

overview. ♕ [chapter i.] chapter is. chapter ii. chapter iis. chapter iii. chapter iiis. chapter iv. chapter v. chapter vs. chapter vi. chapter vii.

THE QUEENDOM OF ROSES - RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The Queendom of Roses is essentially the economic hub of the continent, at least when it comes to foreign markets. Though any remaining relationships are strictly for business, the Rosehearts family has managed to maintain contact with all the other countries of the continent except Briar Valley. The Coral Coast conducts all of their trade through the Queendom of Roses - while Pyroxene is closer, they have adopted a rather solitary policy, so the Queendom was the next best option. Additionally, the Rosehearts heir has a strong connection to the young heir Che’nya from abroad, solidifying their standing in international trade. Thus, the Queendom has become the unofficial central hub.

The ruling family has a firm hold on trade and on every day life of their citizens. From strictly enforced tariffs and trade routes, to specific tea times and daily beverages that must be consumed, those within the Queendom have a strict regimen that they must adhere to. When attending an important event, the only nobles more easily offended at a brash display than the Pyroxenes are the Rosarians.

The Card Soldiers are Her Majesty’s royal guard and are widely regarded as some of the best personal officers around. Many young hopefuls are trained within the borders of the Queendom before returning to their country to serve their lords, ladies and sovereigns.

MEETINGS

The Queendom of Roses maintained a hesitant relationship with your kingdom during the war. Once news came to the Queen that a new family was taking power, an invitation was bestowed upon you: visit her country, spend some time at the castle, and learn all about the social etiquette of the upper class.

Considering you were only a humble villager before becoming the next in line for the throne, you accepted the invitation. In fact, you were grateful for it. The fact that you had been invited made it easy for you to strengthen your ties to their kingdom, and hopefully reforge your bond!

You traveled to their Queendom as soon as you confirmed the arrangement, eager to start your diplomatic journey. Along the way, you were astounded by the wonderful smell of flowers and the bright, colorful landscape. People milled about the cobbled streets in fanciful suits and dresses, sporting fun decorated hats and eye-catching cravats. The foot traffic darted everywhere, even in front of your carriage, yet rather than busy chaos there was a sense of orderliness to it. A deep chime of a clock tower struck, spurring everyone on with a renewed sense of purpose. It was quite the contrast to your gray, rocky kingdom, where there was still physical damage visible from the dirt main streets and hopelessness seemed a day away.

Although, arriving on the castle grounds, you were surprised there wasn't much…fanfare. Your previous king always made a grand procession out of visitors, even when the visitors became a slow trickle of mages called in to protect the magestones and gorge themselves on food bought with taxpayer money. The guards, expecting your arrival, let you inside of the castle. It was quiet, so quiet your heeled shoes clicked against the floor and echoed. For a moment you thought you got the date wrong and worried that you were trespassing.

Somebody's heels approached from the hallway, quick and steady against the solid, shining floors. You were expecting a regal queen with a large dress, akin to the dresses your mother now wore. Instead, you watched as a short boy with red hair appeared, taking the stairs with ease. He held you in a gaze that bordered between blank and narrowed while gracefully closing the distance between the two of you. No matter how he compared to you in size or how cute he appeared, his aura of command was simply too strong for you to reject. You couldn't decide if the scepter in his hand was an accessory or a weapon.

"Ah…" You trailed off dumbly. His expression didn't change, but something flashed in his eyes and you could tell that your introduction was a test which you already failed. Suddenly rushing in your movements, you fumbled with the fabric of your clothes, tried to remember how to position your hands, and did your best curtsy or bow.

"Greetings…your highness?"

A moment of silence stretched between the two of you, unfriendly and unforgiving. The boy's eyes were as cold as an iron sword left unsheathed in the dead of winter. The longer he looked at you, the more the corners of his mouth tilted down into a small frown. Admittedly, it looked more like a pout than a frown, but you didn't dare utter a word and push yourself further from his good graces.

"Unacceptable," he finally muttered, averting his disappointed gaze. You swallowed.

"Apologies," you tried again. "You caught me off guard. I was expecting the Queen."

"Mother will not be administering your courses. She has left the duty to me," He explained. With a glance, you finally registered the small crown on his head, but quickly ducked your head back down in apology.

"I wasn’t aware. We didn't discuss the details in our letters."

He examined your bashful expression before stepping back, deciding this argument wasn't worth wasting time on. "Very well. My name is Riddle Rosehearts. I am the son of the queen and the heir to the throne. It is my duty to ensure you pass the same etiquette training I received, so that you might not tarnish what little reputation your country has left."

Your heart sank at that. There wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't love your country and its people. Your family risked their lives to fight for a better future, and now you were the one responsible for enriching your people's lives in every way you could. Even if you didn't have much of a name for your country, the dig still hurt. But you needed this to go well more than anything else, so you forced a polite smile.

"Shall we start immediately, then?" You asked sweetly.

Riddle scoffed. "Yes. Our first lesson: do not smile so widely. It is most assuredly without grace."

You instantly dropped your smile and followed Riddle through the hall.

The invitation didn't specify much of the details: who would administer your courses, how long they would take place, what exactly counted as passing - all these things were unknown to you. It appeared, though, that these lessons were going to be much more intense than you thought.

On the first day, Riddle nearly scolded you for coming so ill-prepared when you told him that you didn’t have anything with which to take notes. After staring at you for a moment, he huffed and left the room wordlessly. You sat on the edge of your seat, anxiously twiddling your thumbs until he returned with a bound journal and pen. Though he didn’t allow the book to slam on the table in front of you, he did pass it to you with a pointed look that served the same purpose as a loud thwack! Still, he was mostly addressing the basics verbally, indicating where you should be taking notes…which was practically after everything he said.

It lured you into a false sense of security. Maybe the prince had a bit of an attitude problem, but he was knowledgeable, and he’d pass his knowledge onto you for you to write down and review on your own time - preferably when you were far from the confines of this castle and on your way back home.

How wrong you were.

The very next day, he insisted that you put everything he told you into practice, without notes. You sputtered. “Certainly you don’t honestly expect that I’ve remembered all that?!”

“Why not? Any diligent student would have studied for at least an hour after lessons.”

“An hour?! We went over the information for hours after dinner, and I needed sleep!”

Riddle wasn’t one to be reasoned with, however, and still insisted you repeat the information back to him. Feeling stuck in the castle, without much of an option, you sighed and did your best.

Of course, how could anybody remember the precise order of nobility in such a short amount of time? There were so many dinner, lunch and breakfast rules to learn, ones that seemed to change based on the meal, the day, the amount of time you were sitting at the table after finishing your meal…

Every day, Riddle heaped hours of information on you, then expected you to relay it back to him the next day perfectly. When you fumbled the order of nobility, he made you write the order in your journal fifty times without looking at a reference. If your handwriting wasn’t up to snuff, he made you write out entire sections of the Queendom’s law in perfect script. Your pace and posture had to be perfect, or else you were forced to walk up and down the massive hallways with books stacked upon your head. At meals, every bite had to be prim and proper, or he’d lecture you before you could even pick up your fork again. 

And don’t get him started on the dancing.

You were dreadfully ill-prepared for the dancing. How did you know? Riddle told you first thing in the morning when he met you in the library and immediately shooed you out to go to a ballroom. There was no good morning to preface the information; just, “This next lesson will be positively dreadful.”

The first few hours were spent learning simple steps and motions, where to put your hands, how to follow and how to lead, et cetera. He even brought in two of his staff to help you in practicing switching off. You didn’t spend long in their company, but one of them insisted you were the sweetest thing, while the other gave you a wry grin in silent apology for Riddle’s behavior. It was a welcome reprieve.

But then it was back to being the focus of Riddle’s vigilant attention, and you ended the day with sore feet and growing animosity towards the only country that bothered to remember yours even existed.

You were in the middle of drafting a letter to your father, letting him know that the lessons were intensive and you’d be staying another week but you missed him and the others terribly, when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, you saw the green-haired butler from earlier. He informed you that tomorrow morning, you’d have the day to yourself while Riddle went to oversee some business with the Card Soldiers and you were welcome to attend, but your presence was not an obligation of your lessons. The way he said it made it seem like the only smart option.

Still, the next day you ate your breakfast slowly, trying not to notice how empty the large dining hall truly felt without Riddle berating you for doing something wrong. You barely even noticed how much care you were taking to eat the way he taught you, too lost in thought on what you should do.

After you finished, you glanced at the clock and then remained seated to think. You could explore the castle, or brush up on your assignments. Or, you mused dryly, you could hop in your carriage and leave, never to be seen or heard from by any Rosarian ever again. Or, a little voice said, you could check on Riddle.

You instinctively looked at the clock again, right as 15 minutes had passed. You hated when the universe gave you signs pointing in the direction you didn’t want to go.

Tentatively, you wandered through the halls the way the butler told you to go, walking past eclectic decorations of mainly red and black. Two large doors (that were, honestly, more window than door) led to the gardens, which then led to a training field. Walking through the lush green hedges and fragrant red roses, you were hit by how much you stuck out, dressed in dreary gray. Depressed, you realized that maybe you didn’t fit in at all - you were just a peasant playing royal, and maybe you were a lost cause.

Startled shouts caught your attention, snapping you out of your pity. You hurried towards the training field, a little less graceful than Riddle would have liked, and stopped right as you rounded the corner. 

You were just in time to see Riddle shouting and waving his scepter, summoning a heart-shaped collar around the neck of a redheaded recruit. He immediately yanked at it, though the annoyance in his face indicated that this had happened before. Still, he bit back at Riddle’s vicious words with venom of his own. You admired this future soldier more and more with each thing he said.

All at once, the commotion died down, and everybody fell silent. From the other side of the field, the queen approached, adorned in a great dress with a startlingly high collar. Her crown and scepter were both bigger than Riddle’s, though her hair was a similar, rich shade of red. As she approached, Riddle almost seemed to shrink back. It seemed like a smarter decision for you to duck back behind the corner and eavesdrop than stand and watch dumbly.

Due to the great distance between you and the other royals, you couldn’t quite make out every word that was exchanged. All you knew was there was a cold fury underlying her tone, and nobody dared to interrupt. Harsh words like ‘expected better,’ ‘utterly disappointing,’ ‘wasted authority,’ and ‘disgrace’ floated to you in the wind, so bitter and sharp that you almost felt like crying. After a while, you heard footsteps that you now knew were Riddle’s, and they were much faster than the pace he insisted you keep. For a moment you were worried he’d turn and catch you hiding, but he entered the castle through a nearby door instead. After a moment of holding your breath, you hurried back to the guest room and tried to avoid all the staff, as if you had heard a secret regarding national security and not a very public argument.

For the rest of the morning, you stared aimlessly at your notes, something like guilt gnawing at you. Lunch was spent alone again, and you hurried to get out of the too-big room. Afterwards, you waited in the library for your lessons to begin, but nobody showed up. Hesitantly, you checked the ballroom - also empty. Huffing, you wandered the grounds aimlessly, hoping to run into Riddle and to not run into the queen. Eventually you did run into somebody, but it wasn’t anybody you held a conversation with before.

The orange-haired member of the staff that helped you in your dancing lessons bounded up to you with a bright smile. “Heya! I come bearing what I assume to be good news!”

“Oh?” 

“Yup! Your lessons for this afternoon have been canceled! Though I can see you figured that out from how difficult it was to find you.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, not sure why you felt disappointed. Then you asked, ��Did something happen? Something I can help with?”

A sad half-smile took over Cater’s expression. “It would be rude to ask a guest to help settle internal affairs.”

Nodding, you waved farewell to Cater and resumed your mindless wandering for a while. It seemed royals didn’t know how to behave when the feelings and security of others were involved. The grand halls felt all too imposing all of a sudden, like an ominous picture of what you were to become. Would you, too, become callous and cruel, uncaring for your people, uncaring for your family? Would your temper become a small fuse, lit at the smallest infraction?

Shuddering, you spent the remaining hours until dinner distracting yourself with your studies. Dinner was spent alone, again. This time, once you finished, you stayed at your seat for longer than 15 minutes, stuck in a loop of rumination. It wasn’t until Trey called your name that you snapped out of your miniature trance. In his hands, he held a tray of slices of a strawberry tart.

“Oh, you’re still here. Would you like dessert?” He asked, already offering you a plate and a fork. You took it in your hands and held it, not sure if you were willing to spend another 20 minutes aware of how lonely the table was.

But Trey was watching you expectantly, so you cut off a small piece and tried it in front of him. A second after the bite hit your tongue, your eyes widened in surprise. “Woah! This is amazing!”

Trey looked bashful. “Ah, it’s nothing. Riddle thinks so, too. They’re his favorite, after all.”

At the mention of Riddle’s name, you focused your gaze on Trey rather than the tart. “Are you bringing those to him?”

Trey nodded. Then, almost conspiratorially, he added, “But if anybody asks, this is a welcome gift for you.”

“Very well,” you said instinctively, not wanting to involve yourself in personal affairs. As Trey left, though, you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling in your gut. Sighing, you stood and said, “May I take those up with you?”

'Taking the tray up with him' wound up being you standing outside the door to Riddle’s room by yourself. Tentatively, you knocked, trying your best to balance the tray on one hand. In a firm, cold voice, Riddle called out, “Busy.”

You weren’t sure if calling out to him and revealing it was you would make him open the door or insist you leave him alone. Instead, you knocked again, more persistently. Again, Riddle called out, “Busy!”

Adjusting the tray on your hand, you huffed and hit the door solidly once with your fist. Then you stepped back, expecting the door to swing open in indignation. It did, revealing a very angry Riddle who was ready to chew out a member of his staff, or perhaps send them to the dungeon (if the castle even had one. You weren’t sure.) When he saw it was you, shock took over his expression - then indignation, annoyance, and finally, resignation. “What are you doing? I don’t need to tell you how inappropriate that was, do I?”

“You weren’t answering,” You defended, knowing full well that you sounded rather petulant. In an attempt to lessen his aggression, you displayed the tray of tarts. “This was important.”

Conflict flashed in Riddle’s eyes as he gazed at the tarts. Then he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“Dessert is not important,” he started, reluctantly. Trying to change the subject, he said in an accusatory tone, “For the record, it could be scandalous if you were caught outside my room, alone, at night, with a tray of sweets.”

“We haven’t gone over the dessert lessons. How was I to know? I’m also not sure exactly what quantity of dessert is considered appropriate, but I’m almost positive it isn’t eight slices at once. I’ve already had a bite of one, and if I’m left to eat these by myself, I will eat them all.”

Riddle tried to appear scandalized, but only seemed to be amused. “You’d think I’d have learned by now that there is no getting through to you…” But he stepped out of his room, shut the door, and led you to a balcony where you could eat your dessert together in peace.

The two of you sat on opposite sides of the small table on the balcony, overlooking the rose maze. In the distance, the lanterns of the village glowed brightly, the buildings tall and concrete. You were too amazed upon your arrival to realize how different the Queendom of Roses truly was from your country. It was more…stable. Your people deserved such security and beauty.

When Riddle wasn’t breathing down your neck to overanalyze every motion you made during a meal, he was surprisingly peaceful company. You ate your first slices in silence, admiring the dark landscape and sorting through the tension that was thick within the castle walls.

Riddle broke the silence first. “What is it like in your country?”

“Hm?” You asked, before you could stop yourself from acting disgracefully. Riddle didn’t seem to mind, at least, not this time. It never occurred to you that you hadn’t really talked about your home while you were here. Everything was all business, all etiquette and lessons. “It’s…not as green, for starters.”

“You’re situated right beneath the mountain range, right?” He asked, though you knew he wasn’t truly asking for clarification. “Do you…dislike it?”

“No! Not at all!” You insisted, and finally the dam broke. “It’s great at home. The ground is solid and there are forests with rock shelves like giant staircases up the mountains. The peaks are majestic, and there’s almost always a comforting fog in the mornings that feels like a cozy blanket…”

As you talked about your country, Riddle listened with rapt attention and helped himself to a second slice of tart. Every now and then, he’d interject to ask questions, getting you started on a new tangent about your life before royalty and your favorite home traditions. By the time you slowed down and realized how much you’ve been talking, most of the tart was gone and your throat was dry. Doing your best to clear it gracefully, you avoided Riddle’s steady gaze.

“I…realize I forgot many of your teachings,” You said meekly, your voice significantly softer. Riddle widened his eyes and soon watched his lap. He frowned and, much like when you first met him, it appeared more as a pout.

“I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” He admitted. A warm breeze blew over the both of you, nearly carrying his voice away with it. This shy vision of him was far different from the authoritative version that usually walked through the castle. “It sounds lovely, back at your kingdom. I was simply enjoying your stories. And…you’re much better company than the previous king.”

You laughed at that, starting at the prim giggle he originally made you learn before it escalated into something a little more true. “The competition was really stiff, was it?”

Riddle chuckled with you, a warm and rosy blush crawling to his cheeks. After a few stressful weeks for the both of you, a healthy laugh devolved into near-hysterics, taking much longer than the situation truly called for. As the two of you tried to calm yourselves down, you avoided making direct eye contact for fear of starting up again. Instead, you both looked over the small piece of the village again, willing the serenity to reach you.

Your thoughts calmed, first at the beauty of the lights against the dark sky, then at the overwhelming pull of how badly you wanted to achieve this for yourself. There was so much to be done: even after your people fixed the battered streets and structural damage, even after the harvest came and went and you properly rationed the food that wasn’t destroyed, even if you managed to reinstill some semblance of trust in the government of the country, all that work would only bring you to sea level. After that, there was much to improve: defenses, infrastructure, overall quality of life, foreign relations…and, on top of it all, you still had to figure out how, exactly, to defeat the encroaching blot.

For a sobering moment, you realized exactly where you were. The results of the war caught up to you, a king and countless innocent people dead, you and your family on the throne and the final defense between everybody and an unknowable monster. There was so much you didn’t know, and yet it was up to you to save it all.

“I never brought it up,” You started quietly. “But…thank you for continuing to support us all this time.”

Riddle appeared bashful - or ashamed? “Ah…it was nothing. Actually, it was purely strategic. Whoever emerged victorious would be appreciative of our support.”

“Ah. Well, I am,” You admitted, shifting in your seat. “Who knows? Maybe there are a couple of magestones with your name on them back home.”

“I see I’ll have to add a lesson in negotiating to our plans.” Finally, Riddle stood, smiling the kind of grin that, on anybody else, would be accompanied by rolling eyes. He held out his hand, clearly offering for you to take it. “It was a pleasure talking to you. Here’s to reaffirming our alliance.”

Taken aback by his sudden shift into prince mode, you gingerly place your hand on his and let him guide you out of your seat. “Here’s to affirming our friendship.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, slowly, as he watched with wide eyes for any hint of dissent, Riddle bent at the middle and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles so quickly, it was hardly anything more than an accidental brush.

With your newfound understanding of each other, the future lessons went by quickly. No longer uncomfortable in the castle, you were able to study more efficiently, eventually reaching Riddle’s expectations. He split your workload into sections, taking you on frequent breaks to walk around the castle grounds. While you weren’t working on etiquette or any questions you had, you both planned ideal ways to welcome the other into your respective countries. It was like gossiping with your friends in the village all over again, and it gave you hope for the monumental tasks ahead.

Finally, with most of your lessons having been successfully completed, Riddle spent your final week helping you draft trade agreements, giving you a rundown of each nation’s specialty, the best trade routes, and other important information. For the time being, you knew you’d have to get most of your resources from him - all the other routes were in various states of disrepair, and your relationship with other countries was still practically nonexistent.

One day, he sent Trey to lead you to his office. As Trey opened the door, you were struck by how official Riddle looked behind the grand desk, framed by massive bookcases and an intricate tapestry behind him. However, his stern expression eased as soon as you walked through the door. He gestured at a seat across from his desk, waiting for Trey to shut the door before interlocking his fingers and resting his chin on them.

“We don’t normally do paperwork in here,” You mused, looking around. Once you settled your gaze on him, Riddle straightened his posture and tapped on the forms in the center of his desk with one finger.

“Yes, well. This one is a bit more finicky,” He explained. Curiously, you slid the paper your way and scanned the words carefully. As the words sunk in, your eyes darted from the paper to Riddle and back again.

“You’re transferring some of your Card Soldiers?” You asked. “Thank you, but I couldn’t take them away from home so suddenly.”

“Nonsense. They’re eager for the opportunity. Besides,” Riddle lowered his voice, eyes drifting from side to side as if somebody could simply appear. “You would be doing a great service for them and me.”

Glancing at the papers again, you read the names printed in Riddle’s neat handwriting. After a moment’s hesitation, the names clicked and you remembered which soldiers he was talking about. The two card soldiers had a propensity for trouble - not the kind that would endanger you, but the kind that would endanger them the longer they remained under the rule of the queen. Nodding slightly, you held your hand out for a pen to confirm the transfer.

“Personal guard, huh?” You mused. The situation in your kingdom was getting more and more official with each passing day. It gave you hope.

When it was finally time for you to depart, you thanked Riddle for all of his help with a deep - and perfect - curtsy or bow. He bowed in return, then the both of you watched each other for a moment. The queen hadn’t welcomed you, and she wasn’t seeing you off; after your inadvertent experience with her, you figured that was best.

“I’ll write to you,” You decided firmly. Behind you, the door to your carriage was opened, signaling that it was time to start the long journey home.

“Yes. I look forward to hearing how my lessons have assisted you.”

“That,” you agreed, “and to check in on you. As friends. Interpersonally.”

Riddle paled and cleared his throat. “A-ah, right. I’ll…I look forward to that, as well.”

With a smile and a wave, you turned and made your way to the carriage. Though you would miss Riddle, you were eager to return home and see what progress had been made. You kept waving until the carriage rolled past the gates, but you only turned your back to him once you could no longer see the difference between his white uniform and the white castle steps.

Riddle watched you leave, not daring to release the wistful sigh in his chest until you were entirely out of sight.

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 16 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries and slight angst

Summary: Lena is still a no-show. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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“Good, you’re doing great. Just one more step,” Dr. Mike encourages, holding my left hand as I walk on unstable legs.

My right hand is wrapped so tightly around the bar mounted to the wall that my knuckles have turned white.

I take the last step before lowering myself into the waiting wheelchair. My hands are shaking and I’m breathing heavily as Doctor Mike crouches down by my side with a beaming smile.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he says. “If you keep working hard and doing your exercises you’ll be almost as good as new in no time.”

I try my best to smile, but even without the pitiful look on Doctor Mike’s face that follows it I know it wasn’t very convincing.

Ever since we dialed back my pain meds my entire left leg has been tingling and is weak. Sometimes it feels like an electric shock runs through it, all the way from my hip and down to my toes, and Doctor Mike says that even though the weakness will get better, the nerve pain will never truly go away.

Yes, it will also get better, but I won’t ever have physiological sensibility and mobility again.

“Why don’t we get you back to your room, you look tired,” he states rather than asks when I don’t comment on anything that he’s said.

I mumble please and hang my head low when he begins pushing me out of the pt room and back to my own room.

It’s been almost three weeks since what happened and I’ve honestly never felt this empty.

Don’t get me wrong, I was absolutely crushed and numb after Noah was killed, but now there’s just so many things weighing me down that I don’t know if I’ll ever come out on the other side of things again.

To start things off, I’m constantly having nightmares about what happened with Lex. They’re mostly about what actually happened but sometimes they’re also about Lena, Sam, or Ruby getting shot.

Then there’s the whole situation with my dad. He hasn’t visited me since that one time where he tried to apologize, and I’ve been racking my brain ever since if I have it in my heart to forgive him.

There’s also the nerve damage on my lower spine which turned out to be worse than expected. I’m not paralyzed — something I apparently came very close to— but my left leg is basically useless at the moment and the constant physical therapy is painful and exhausting.

And to top it all off, Lena hasn’t visited me even once since I got here. I also can’t get ahold of her on my phone because Lex destroyed it and I have yet to get a new one.

No one’s heard from her. The news outlets are dying for a comment from her about Lex’s and all her friends — Sam obviously included— can’t reach her either.

She’s not at home, apparently, which worries me, but it’s not like I can just walk out of this hospital and go look for her myself.

The only thing that gives me a little peace of mind is the fact that she texted Sam the day I was shot that she had to deal with some stuff and that she wouldn’t be available for some time.

When I first heard about it I was very worried because I know she blames herself for what happened, but then as time went on, I started to hate her for abandoning me.

Now, though, I’m just sad and dejected.

Do I really mean that little to her? I mean, even if she does blame herself, I thought her worry would outweigh her guilt eventually and she’d visit me, but apparently not. . .

Doctor Mike drops me off in my room, making sure I’m comfortable in the bed before leaving with an encouraging smile.

I sigh and close my eyes, only to open them again a couple minutes later when Sam and Ruby stop by.

They’ve been visiting me every day and even though I’m absolutely miserable and can’t wait to get out of here, they’ve been a reliable support system and always managed to cheer me up, even if it’s just a tiny bit.

Sam kisses my cheek in greeting and Ruby hugs me before pulling a deck of UNO cards out of her mom’s purse.

“Can we play?” she asks with a hopeful grin and I pat the space on the bed next to me with a nod.

We’ve been playing this game for a week now and at first ai thought I’d get tired of it, but that has yet to happen. I love playing with the two of them, especially when Ruby giggles after putting down a draw four card.

“Of course, c’mere.”

Sam takes a seat on the chair next to the bed while Ruby settles in next to me. She shuffles the cards and hands them out as Sam tells me about her day at the office.

“. . . and then Marcus has the nerve to burst right into my office,” Sam concludes once Ruby has passed out enough cards. “Can you believe that?!”

I chuckle and shake my head, sorting my cards and fanning them out in my left hand. “I honestly don’t know why you haven’t fired him yet.”

Sam huffs and puts down the first card, a red four. “Yeah, me neither.”

We play a couple of rounds, chatting about God knows what until Ruby decides she’s had enough and that she wants a hot chocolate from the hospital’s cafeteria.

Sam hands her some cash and we both watch her leave before Sam turns back to me with a serious expression.

“Okay, out with it,” she says, moving her chair closer to the bed. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately and I know it’s not just because of Lena.”

Immediately my eyes start stinging with tears and I gulp, trying to force them away. When Sam grabs my hand and squeezes it however, there’s no stopping them anymore and within seconds my cheeks are wet and my chin is wobbling.

“I just— I can’t anymore, Sam,” I admit with a hiccup. “I’m exhausted and-and everything around me reminds me of everything bad that’s ever happened to me.”

I use my free hand to wipe away my tears, but it’s of no use because they just keep coming and there’s nothing I can do about it as everything I’ve been holding back for almost three weeks now bubbles out of me.

“I can’t stand walking past Noah’s favorite coffee shop every morning. I hate seeing my dad’s favorite local beer in bars and I hate all the reporters outside the hospital just waiting for me to talk about Lex,” I whisper, not daring to look at Sam. “It’s too much. . .”

It’s silent for a moment until Sam’s soft touch on my cheek makes my breath hitch. She uses her free hand to wipe away some more of my tears and when I look up to meet her eyes all I can see is sympathy and understanding.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says quietly. “I understand what you mean and I think it’s high time you got away from all of this for a while.”

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze her hand. “You’re saying I should leave?”

She nods. “Yes. You could travel and explore the world, or you could just move somewhere else for a couple of years, you know?”

I don’t want to travel. I’ve seen enough of the world for now, having been stationed in a couple of countries while I was in the Army.

The thought of moving, however, makes me pause and think for a second.

It would be a great opportunity to start over, start on a blank slate, and if I ever get homesick I can always just move back to National City.

“But what about you and Ruby?“ I ask. I’ve always been there for them and they’ve always been there for me, too. I can’t just leave them behind and start a new life somewhere.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam assures me with a watery smile. “We’ll always stay in touch, but it’s time for you to start living again, Y/N, rather than just existing.”

“Sammy. . .” I trail off, not exactly knowing what to say. I’m overwhelmed by her understanding and her support, but I’m also sad at the prospect of being away from her and Ruby.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ll be okay, and Ruby and I will be okay, too.”

I squeeze her hand again and close my eyes for a second, letting what happened just now sink in.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper when I open my eyes again.

Sam sniffles and blinks away some of her own tears. “I love you, too.”

I chuckle and press a kiss to her knuckles right as Ruby returns from the cafeteria. She doesn’t notice our tear stained faces and wordlessly joins me on the bed again, sipping hot chocolate from her paper cup.

She starts babbling about her day at school which makes me smile softly. Every so often Sam’s gaze meets mine and the unrelenting understanding in her eyes puts my mind at ease.

I’m going to be okay, I think, but the question of Lena’s whereabouts and what she’s up to still gnaws at the back of my mind.

It’s been a week since I decided to move and an old friend of Sam’s told her about an apartment he’s just finished remodeling in Metropolis that I can move into at any time.

It’s a big step, moving to the other end of the country, but it will give me the space I so desperately need.

I was released from the hospital two days ago and have since been packing most of my stuff and getting my affairs in order.

I have to take it easy because I’m still recovering, which is why I’m only packing light things like clothes. The rest will be taken care of by a moving company that I’ve hired to start tomorrow.

My left leg is still weak and tingles, but the shooting pains have stopped and all my other injuries have healed nicely.

I have to use a crutch for the time being because I’m still a little unstable on my feet, but Doctor Mike told me that I won’t be needing it soon enough if I continue to do the exercises the physical therapist showed me.

So far the only people who know that I’m moving are Sam and Harper. The latter found out because she was there when Sam called me about the apartment, but she swore not to tell my parents about it.

We’re almost back to where we were before Noah’s death since she, not unlike Sam and Ruby, also visited me in the hospital daily, but it will still take some time for our friendship to be fully restored.

Now, as for my parents, I’ve decided not to tell them about moving until I’m already settled in Metropolis. If I told them now they’d try to stop me from going because they’re both trying to make things right with me, but I can’t start healing if I don’t get some space.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be able to forgive either of them for what they did to me, especially not my dad, but I can see myself being civil with them in time.

A knock on the door makes me pause and drop the stack of clothes I was just about to put into a box onto the bed.

It’s almost dinner time and Sam was planning on coming over with some pizza, so I think nothing of it when I open the door with a lazy smile, but then I freeze when my eyes land on the one person I’ve been yearning to see for almost a month now.

“Lena,” I whisper, taking in her red nose and the snowflakes in her dark hair.

“Hi.” Her voice is just as quiet as mine, if not even quieter, and when her green eyes meet mine in silent question, I step aside and let her into the apartment.

________________________________________________

I’m sorry it’s a bit short, but the next part (probably the final part) will definitely be longer.

*Not proofread yet

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