#WHY ARE WE RUSHING TO SECRET WARS ALREADY

[abovedivinity]

Though honestly like the spectacle of Secret Wars 2015 is just the frosting of the whole thing. The main crux of it is the personal dynamic between Reed and Victor and you can't just. Try to substitute that by, I assume, putting RDJ in it and try to ape on his past relationships with the Avengers

Especially when Avengers had their whole Time Runs Out angle. Which you cannot do in the MCU either because the Illuminati don't exist and we already ran the gamut of 'Tony and Steve don't get along sometimes and argue' stories in every Avengers film ever

Also not having a 'normal' Avengers film in between Endgame and Doomsday is fucking stupid

[miniimight]

can you write one where mikey tries so hard to hide your relationship but he lets you into toman without you really being all that strong (he just wanted you around) and some members try to hit on you and he teaches them a lesson?

I LOVE YOUR WORK BTW!!!! OMG

HIDDEN RELATIONSHIP ! but some new toman members make it not-so-hidden

with mikey + fem!reader

warnings unwelcome attraction, they corner you and try to force you into a date, a guy puts his hands on you against your will

notes i love this request !! :D i think i went overboard tho lol

mikey was the epitome of attention as the leader of the growing toman. he really couldn't help the fact that emma was known as his sister, but he desperately tried to keep the fact that you were his girlfriend under wraps. couldn't have dumb kids trying to use you against him or get you caught up in gang wars.

every time he dropped you home, you slid off his bike and handed him his spare helmet (more like his only helmet, cuz he didn't wear one).

"bye, mikey." you hummed. "pick me up tomorrow?"

you didn't even have to ask. "yeah." he leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on the bike handle while the other was held in front of you, palm towards the dusky sky.

you slipped your hand into his and he squeezed it, lingering as if he were contemplating something. you waited patiently.

he was so tempted to pull you back into his arms. who cares about the toman meeting when it meant a few more minutes with you?

he sighed and gave in, pulling you closer to the bike bashfully. he looked shy to ask. he'd never spent much time with you after school as he usually ran with his friends. but this time... he just wanted you close.

"ride with me?" he mumbled. "...again?"

you tilted your head slightly. "but... i thought you were gonna hang out with your friends?"

he tugged you forward, forcing a little yelp out of you as you fell into his shoulder. he hugged you tightly, his voice muffled against your chest.

"we never get to hang out for long..." he said. just this once, and no one will notice. maybe he could introduce you to his close friends this time? "it'll be okay. trust me."

you smiled and climbed on again, clasping the helmet buckle under your chin. "okay."

his bike roared to life, zooming down the streets.

[]

he parked his bike nearby, but far away enough so that it'd look like he walked to the meeting spot. your eyes drank the sight of the crowd down there. you knew who mikey was and what he was involved in, but never actually saw it for yourself.

he pouted. "why do you look so surprised?"

you chuckled. "aw, don't pout. i know you're a hotshot, mikey, but seeing all your guys is a different thing."

"not all of them are my guys." mikey whipped out his phone. "anyways, i want you to meet my sister."

you blinked, whipping your head to face him. he already had the phone to his ear. "now?!"

mikey grinned mischievously. "hey emma? i've got someone here, come to where all the bikes are parked."

after a few minutes, his sister came running up with a groan. "what do you want mikey—oh!" emma's jaw dropped. "a girl?!" she pointed an accusatory finger at mikey. "explain yourself!"

mikey smirked proudly and pulled you closer, his arm strung around your shoulders. "a girlfriend."

"girlfr—?!" emma paced in a frustrated circle. "and you didn't tell me?!"

"yeah, cuz it's supposed to be a secret!" mikey retorted, huffing. "and i know you'd just tell ken-chin or something."

emma gaped at the two of you for a moment. you waved meekly, squeaking a "hi, emma. i'm y/n."

she rushed towards you, clutching your hands in hers. "tell. me. everything."

mikey smiled despite his front of annoyance, ruffling both your heads as he walked by. "come on."

as mikey walked, gang members scurried away to make ample room for their president and the two that flanked him: his sister and who they assumed was her guest. he soon reached the platform where all the captains gathered. his crew looked more curious than confused at your presence.

"oi, emma," draken narrowed his eyes at the blonde, the first to pipe up. "you can't just bring whoever you want to these things."

emma opened her mouth to retort, but mikey nudged her side. that was enough to make her revise what she was going to say. "whatever."

you, on the other hand, were confused, thrown into a whole new environment that you knew nothing about. seeing all these violence-prone tough guys made you feel so small and weak.

mikey observed you as your eyes nervously darted across the crowd of toman. he leaned towards you to whisper while his friends were occupied by a chatty emma, his hair brushing against your ear. "just stay where i can see you and you can see me."

"so, at the front?" you gave him a skeptical look.

"wherever you want, i just wanna see your face." he smiled, eyes closed. heat rose to your face as you cast your gaze elsewhere. dork.

you and mikey were pulled from your own little world when emma huffed and puffed at draken.

"ugh, this is boring anyway!" emma turned on her heels. "come on, y/n!"

"oh! okay..." you blinked and gave mikey a parting glance.

the boys watched the two of you race down the steps.

draken scoffed, standing at mikey's side. "why was that girl looking at you like that?"

mikey smiled to himself, his heart thrumming happily. "dunno. might be in love with me or something."

they all laughed at him. yeah, as if!

"emma, slow down—!" you grunted as you wove through all the boys gathered, ignoring their smirking or curious faces as you desperately tried to keep her flowy blond hair in your sight. but it was dark and the black uniforms didn't help one bit.

you paused, looking around.

you lost her. you cursed and just focused on making your way to the back, being alone around all these weird teenagers didn't sit well with you.

"hey."

the firm grip around your wrist sent chills down your spine. you tugged once in a hopes to slither away but with no luck.

"what're ya doing here?"

you turned to see a group of guys surrounding you. your heart dropped into your stomach. your eyes drifted upwards. you couldn't see over their heads; you couldn't see mikey.

"oh, just hanging out with a friend..." you answered. "i'm gonna go now..."

"hold on, you think we buy that?" the one doing all the talking scoffed. "you're a girl here at a gang meeting, what 'friend' are you visiting, huh?!"

you flinched at the tone, unable to find the words.

"wanna know what i think?" he bent down to look you in the eye. "think you're just looking for attention. what, need a boyfriend, sweetheart?"

you hurriedly shook your hands, staring at them with panic. "no! no, i have one! i have a boyfriend." you hoped that would deter them, you desperately hoped they would leave you alone. your head swiveled around. some were taking amusement in the interaction, others were turning a blind eye.

"really?" he asked.

you found yourself glaring at him, despite the uneven match. "yeah."

the boy paused and surveyed you, his nasty gaze raking over you. his lips curled into a smirk. "ha! why should i believe you?"

you resolve crumbled. you whimpered at the failed attempt to get the fuck out of here which did nothing for your case.

"aw, sad you got found out?" he grinned down at you, shoving his hands in his pockets. "it's okay, we can go somewhere together after this, how about that?"

you scoffed, crossing your arms. "i said i have a boyfriend." who, for all the class he lacked, had way more class than this piece of shit.

that seemed to anger the boy. "quit lyin, we know you ain't got shit."

mikey, please just notice me. you begged silently, hoping for some miracle that'd get you out of this situation.

"did you hear me?" the boy hissed, grabbing your wrists. you gasped and glared at him, pulling against him with all your might. "quit—" he grunted. "cut that out!"

you felt cornered and tears pooled in your eyes. your heart felt almost cold as you let your impulses take over, screaming, "let go!"

mikey was eagerly listening as his captains addressed the gang, but his mind was still looking for you in the crowd. he searched for minutes and still couldn't find anything.

he wilted. was he just a bad boyfriend? not being able to recognize his girl in a crowd?

then he heard murmuring, hushed whispers, before he heard your voice.

"let go!"

his face scrunched and he rose to his feet. let go? who had their hands on you?

he marched to the front of the platform, scanning the crowd with newfound intensity. draken seemed to notice and did the work for him.

"oi!" draken's voice made the gang fall silent. even the guy who acted big froze in front of you. "why the fuck do you have your back turned to your leader when he's addressing you?"

mikey saw a couple boys distance themselves from the commotion, where he saw. anger flared into his body and he itched to beat someone to death.

you were looking at him, completely distraught.

he flew down the stairs, shoving past the members towards you. hatred radiated off him in waves as his eyes never left the sight in front of him. someone—his gang members—were fucking disrespecting you. he felt embarrassed and enraged.

the boy who had pressured you immediately let go. you stumbled backwards before looking at mikey. even now, you didn't know if you should run to him in front of everyone.

your doubts were squashed when he opened his arms. you inhaled deeply. your breath shook as you blinked the tears from your eyes, speedwalking towards him. the silence was killing you. what a reveal, you thought. you didn't care though, just happy to be in mikey's arms.

mikey hugged you tightly, pulling back to observe you for any damage. he ghosted his fingers over your wrists. "did they hurt you?"

you gulped at the menacing edge to his voice. you shook your head. he gave your wrists a soothing squeeze.

the aggressors' eyes flickered between you and their leader.

you smiled sweetly and pointed at mikey, mouthing boyfriend!

they paled.

you grinned. get fucked.

"do you know what you just did?" mikey asked, shrugging off his coat and putting it around your shoulders. he walked past you.

"h-hey... i didn't know—" the guy scrambled backwards, his voice dripping with desperation.

"who cares?" mikey's eyes were cloudy. "even if she weren't mine, are you trying to make toman look bad? if you're gonna be pathetic, do it somewhere else."

the guy took that as a cue to leave, quickly turning around.

"who said you could leave?"

you blinked and he was on the ground, mikey's foot landing gracefully.

"huh?" you mumbled. before you could even process it, he was standing over the other bystanders, holding them by their shirt as he landed punch after punch.

when they were all piles of bones on the floor he stood up, dusting his pants and slipping his hands in his pockets. "you're not welcome in toman. you better not let your faces be seen around here any more or i'll bash your head in."

you pulled the wings of mikey's coat closer to your body. despite the violence, you felt... warm and soothed by mikey's actions.

draken dismissed the meeting and the gang practically ran out of there, eager to get out of mikey's area of impact. the founding members and emma remained.

mitsuya looked sheepish when he asked, "i guess she really was in love with you, huh?"

mikey turned his nose in the air. "of course. why would i lie about that?"

pah scoffed. "do you even know yourself?"

you inched closer to mikey, unsure of your place here. he held you by your waist, reassuring you. your racing heart slowed down, little by little.

"hey." surprisingly, draken looked a little embarrassed, probably because he treated you like some rando when you were mikey's girlfriend. "you... we're not like that brat, okay?"

"yeah, what a disgrace!" pah interrupted, huffing.

"you don't have to be afraid." draken continued, glaring at pah. "just like mikey, we'll look out for you."

you smiled, coming out of mikey's side just a little. "thank you. i'm y/n, by the way."

mitsuya groaned. "oh, now it all makes sense." you voiced a confused hum and he elaborated, telling you that mikey would always go on and on about you. his friends thought you were just a crush of his, and since they'd never saw you they honestly thought you were a figment of his hormonal imagination.

your cheeks burned. "oh... no, i'm totally real."

emma peeked out from behind draken. her eyes were glossy and she sniffed, toddling towards you. "y/nnnn!" she wailed, hugging you. "i'm so sorry!"

you pat her back. "emma, it's not your fault! oh my god. please don't cry!" you looked at mikey for help but he just smiled. that smile faded when he realized that his friends and sister were slowly pushing him outside their little circle, wanting to know everything.

"okay, get off." mikey's demeanor changed in an instant. he slipped in under draken's arm and grabbed your hand, tugging you behind him.

"hey, no fair!" emma exclaimed, running after her brother. "you had her for who knows how long but i can't even get to talk to her for five minutes?!"

mikey sped up, laughing. "she's my girlfriend, not yours!"

"mikey!"

his bright laughter brought a smile to your face. he mounted his bike and made sure you were secure before revving off into the distance, his friends hot on his tail.

you gripped mikey's torso, nuzzling into his back. "thank you."

"don't thank me." mikey replied, quiet. "should've never happened in the first place."

your cheek rested on his shoulder blade, staring at him. his hair cascaded just enough to obscure his eyes from view. "i'm glad i have a strong boyfriend to protect me." you giggled.

his chest puffed with pride. "i am pretty strong."

you rolled your eyes.

"but it's not just us anymore." he turned his head to meet your eyes. "you have a new family, now. and they're all gonna look out for you."

your jaw hurt from how hard you smiled. your heart fluttered. resting your head on his back again, you squeezed him tight.

[]

the peaceful drive soon turned into a competition when the toman captains tried to race mikey down, determined for answers. emma, who rode on draken's bike, was especially vicious.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[the-badger-mole]

She knows

She knows

She knows

Zuko had thought his feelings for Katara were his secret. He'd never spoken to anyone about them, and he hadn't been treating her any differently since he'd figured himself out. His feelings were his burden alone, and he intended to keep it that way. Still, she knows ricocheted through his mind. His heart seemed to beat in time to words in his brain as he tried to process everything. The clamoring of the soldiers rushing up the stone stairs; the sound of the stolen air ship coming up behind him; the feel of Katara's lips on his.

Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt. Zuko had just come to his senses enough to reach for her waist, intent on pulling her closer, when suddenly Katara shoved him backwards off of the ledge of the broken balcony. An airbender would've caught themselves and vaulted back onto the stone legdge. Zuko was no airbender, though. Their airbender was...someplace else. Zuko wasn't entirely sure of where. So when Zuko landed on the deck of the airship with a bone rattling thump, shock kept him there for the time it took him to refill his lungs. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the ship was already pulling away. Zuko had just enough time to see Katara turn from him to face his father's soldiers. She was outnumbered by at least a dozen, but she stood tall and firm, and even from behind, Zuko could see the determination in her stance. She would fight and die to make sure that he got away safely.

"No!" Zuko shouted. He threw himself at the railing, intent on getting back to her by any means necessary. He would leap from the deck and figure out the rest on his way back. Two sets of strong hands kept him from enacting his plan.

"Let me go!" he demanded pulling against the hold on him. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Zuko!" Sokka shouted. He and Suki pulled hard throwing him against the wall of the ship. "Stop!"

"Turn back!" Zuko half demanded, half pleaded. "We have to go back for her!" He was met with Sokka and Suki's twin grimaces.

"We can't," Suki said, grimly. "We have to get you to safety."

"I don't care about my safety!" Zuko insisted. "I can't leave her behind! Sokka, she's your sister! How can you just-oof!" Sokka's punch didn't hurt so much as it caught Zuko off guard.

"Don't you dare!" Sokka growled. He stood over Zuko, rage radiating from him almost tangibly. "Don't you dare imply I'm not just as worried about Katara as you are. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to survive the war, I would've thrown you back to them to save her in a heartbeat. But the next best thing I can do is make sure my sister's sacrifice isn't in vain. That mean's getting you to safety and making sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to take on a whole troop of firebending soldiers.

A thousand arguments flew through Zuko's mind. They were superimposed over the image of Katara facing those same solders in his mind. Everything in him was demanding they turn around that instant and rescue Katara. His gambit for the throne was meaningless in comparison to Katara's safety. So what if she had willingly sacrificed herself? So what if he were summarily executed by his father, or even his sister? His own life meant nothing if Katara weren't in it.

Sokka was right, though. Zuko was loathe to admit it, but he was right. Katara knew what she was doing, even if Zuko was certain she didn't understand the full consequence. She'd saved his life. Again. Impotent and helpless as he felt watching her do it, she'd done it willingly. She'd done it strategically. His heart railed against it, but his mind knew why she'd done it. He had the best claim to the throne, after all. They'd talked about it to exhaustion. He'd told Katara all his worries, and she'd calmed them with her certainty that he was the Fire Lord his nation deserved. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her that he though she was the Fire Lady his nation needed, though they didn't deserve her by a long shot. He'd never told her that though he didn't deserve her, he needed her. Like he needed water.

She knew, though. She knew his weakness, and she'd used it. Zuko could still feel the pressure of her lips on his. Could still feel the way her hand tightened on his collar as she prepared to shove him away even while she was pulling him closer. She knew what she could do to him even in the midst of battle.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki said quietly. Both Sokka and Zuko looked up sharply.

"What?" Sokka gasped.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki repeated. "She's too valuable a prisoner. The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe chief? The... the friend of Prince Zuko? She's useful. If she surrenders, she will have a fighting chance." Suki's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. She was upset, too, Zuko realized. Maybe almost as upset as Sokka and Zuko were. Only almost, though. Zuko couldn't imagine his future without Katara in it, and Sokka had always been his sister's protector. As Zuko met Sokka's eye across the deck, he knew the Water Tribe warrior had made the same decision he had. If Katara was alive, neither would rest until she was safe again. The details of their rescue mission would have to wait until they could discuss them in private, but they would be going after her.

Part 2

[harryforvogue]

happy may the fourth LMFAOAOAOOAOAOAOAOAO sorry this is more than a month late and sorry for the horrendously rushed sex scene. i am bad at smut now <3 2.1k

***

Harry looks down at the notecards, his dinner abandoned besides his hands. He flips through a few of the cards while Yasmine slurps obnoxiously on her pasta to get him to scowl at her, but he’s too captivated by his extreme nerd behavior. Honestly, it’s embarrassing for him.

He finally settles on a card and clears his throat. “What is the name of Leia and Han’s child?”

“Oh,” Yasmine mumbles as she swallows. “Um, the hot guy.”

Harry gives her a weird look. “He’s not hot, but sure.”

“I mean, from a certain angle,” she says. “I don’t need to explain the appeal of Adam Driver to you, nerd.”

“Er, okay. What’s his name?”

“Kyle.”

Harry stares at her for a second before he puts the note cards down and scrubs his face with his hands. “No, his name is not Kyle!”

“I know it’s not! It’s Kylo. But I always think it’s Kyle so my brain goes to Kylo next because I know everyone has weird ass names in Star Wars.”

“Don’t say Kyle next time! That’ll be a deduction!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“I can tell you didn’t study my notes!”

“Your nerd notes? Yeah I didn't! I had better things to do!”

Harry pulls his hands away from his now red face. “Like what?”

“Like making the dinner you’ve not even thanked me for!” Yasmine snaps.

Harry blinks. He glances at his dinner and then murmurs an apology, abandoning his cards behind to eat his food. “Thank you.”

“Shut up.”

He sighs and continues eating. 

Yasmine only stays mad for two minutes. Then, she’s talking. “My costume came in yesterday by the way. Are we still doing the secret thing?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “And don’t feel stupid about dressing up, alright? Think of it as Halloween.”

“Nerd Halloween,” Yasmine mutters.

Harry looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. “You’ve called me a nerd three times already.” He takes a deep breath. “Which outfit of Padme’s did you pick?”

“Padme? I’m going as Chewbacca.”

“Hilarious.” 

Harry stands up with his plate and walks over to the other side of the table, sitting beside her. 

Yasmine looks at him. “Why did you move?”

“To be closer to you?”

“Oh.”

Harry throws an arm over her shoulder. “Am I not romantic enough? Yasmine, I swear you act like I’ve never touched you by the way you act sometimes.”

She scoots her chair closer to him. “Untrue.”

He raises his hand to gently caress her cheek. Yasmine turns her head to bite his finger.

“See?” Harry sighs, prying his finger away. “Be normal.”

“I can’t be. I have a nerd boyfriend who likes to touch me too much.” Yasmine brightens. “And you’ll touch me a lot more when you see my dress for tomorrow.”

Harry’s wiping his finger. “Which one did you pick? The one from Attack of the Clones?”

“Um.”

“The second movie.”

“Er.”

“The white one.” Harry drops his head to the table, groaning. “Oh we’re never going to win tomorrow.”

“You should just take one of your other nerd friends, Harry. I know you want that Lego Star Command–”

Harry groans louder. “Star Destroyer.”

“--whatever. I know you want it so maybe you should take someone else.”

He turns his head to glance at her. He takes a deep breath and then sits up, letting the color drain from his face. “No. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re going to yell at me.”

“Lovingly.”

“I’ll bite your head off.”

“Lovingly?” Harry asks weakly.

“No.”

“Anyways. Is it the white dress?”

“The one that’s ripped around the stomach? No.”

Harry looks very interested then. He slides closer. “The black one?”

“No.”

“The blue one?”

“Yes. Which one are you thinking of?”

“The one that looks like a nightgown.”

“No,” Yasmine says thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have done that. Mine is the other one.”

“Yasmine, Padme wear blue a lot.”

“Do you want to see it?”

Harry pauses. Yasmine can tell that he’s going through all the outfits Padme has ever worn that are blue. He comes to the same conclusion as she did days ago when looking for an outfit: the blue ones are the sexy ones. 

His eyes narrow. “Show me yours if I show you mine?”

“Deal.”

Harry stands first. He takes their empty dinner plates to the kitchen and then goes to their room to bring out the two packages of outfits. He tosses Yasmine hers and then proceeds to bring her to the livingroom to open them together.

They decided early on they’d wear a couple costume: Anakin and Padme.

(Yasmine secretly hoped Harry would wear the whole Darth Vader suit with the helmet, but that’s something to unpack at a later time.)

Harry pulls out the Anakin costume, holding it to his body. “Hope it fits.”

Yasmine imagines him in it, the pants sticking wonderfully to his thighs, his hand grasping a large lightsaber. 

“Go put it on.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “You put yours on too.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They stare at each other before Yasmine grabs her outfit and goes to the bathroom.

When she returns, Harry’s changed into his as well, swinging around a red lightsaber expertly.

“Oh,” Yasmine says, stopping in her tracks.

“Fuck,” Harry says at the same time.

The outfit fits him so well. As expected, the pants are tight around his upper thighs, but Harry’s just gifted in that department, so it’s normal. Still. He looks mouthwateringly…well, hot.

He’s got sort of a wild look in his eye at the sight of her. With narrowed eyes, he walks backwards until he sits on the couch, holding his hand out.

Yasmine shuffles close, unused to the dress. It’s a bit too long on her.

“Wow.”

Yasmine takes his hand. His fingers trail up to her wrist.

It’s too quiet in here. 

His other hand raises.

He runs his fingers over her bare stomach. The top is just short enough to land by her sternum, leaving a few pairs of ribs exposed. She shivers at his touch and when she goes to move away instinctively, he grabs her wrist.

Yasmine fidgets under his gaze. “I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Harry murmurs.

“Look at me.”

“You hate it when I look at you?”

“Yes.”

Harry tightens his hand on Yasmine’s wrist. “Get used to it.” Then he yanks her closer. Pulls her into his lap. “You are beautiful. I could stare at you all day long.”

“It’s just the dress.”

He laughs, just inches away from her skin. Fire erupts in her stomach. “No. Definitely not just the dress.”

Yasmine shudders as Harry leans in to kiss her neck. Her fingers tremble when she clutches his hair, staring up at the ceiling. Pleasure runs through her, landing between her legs.

She loves when Harry gets like this: so desperate to have her close, hands grabbing without a care of how rough he’s being. All he knows is that he wants her body attached to his. And it’s incredibly enticing how he shows it. He tilts his head back so that she can reach his lips. Her fingers plunge into the soft wilds of his messy, shoulder length hair. He hums and kisses her back, hard.

The dark color looks so good on him. He’s long known that black and brown look especially good on him (and Yasmine reminds him of this often to ensure he’s continuing to fill his closet with those colors). Seeing him in this outfit…Yasmine supposes she’s the nerd as well now.

She hardly cares.

With a soft maneuver, she presses herself against his growing bulge. Harry groans softly, detaching his mouth from hers. She grasps his hair tighter. His lips trail down to her neck again where he buries his face and grabs her waist. No matter how many times he makes that noise, it always sends her on a downward spiral.

“Harry,” she whispers, rocking herself against him now. His fingers grip her waist.

“Yes, baby?”

And his voice! His breathy, desperate voice.

“I wanna do something.”

“Yeah, let’s go upstairs.”

But the mere thought of going upstairs – the mere thought of parting from Harry long enough to make it there – threatens to disrupt whatever they have going on. So Yasmine slides away from Harry, but before he can stand, she sits before him on her knees.

Harry freezes.

Yasmine reaches for the sole button on his trousers.

“Oh,” Harry says. “Fuck.”

Yasmine touches her wrists in hopes of finding a hair tie there, but when she finds none, she frowns deeply up at him. Harry shakes his head and carefully pulls her hair up into a makeshift ponytail, making sure all her curtain bangs are out of her face. “I’ve got it, Yas.”

“Thanks,” she whispers, though she feels silly afterwards.

“Yeah.”

Harry lifts his hips long enough for Yasmine to get him out of the trousers. She scoots closer so that she can get his boxer briefs off as well. Harry’s hold on her hair tightens. She reaches out to wrap her fingers around him, giving him a long stroke.

“Fuck,” Harry murmurs. It’s music to Yasmine’s ears. She strokes him again, bringing him to full hardness. There’s a soft flush on Harry’s neck and face, and his thighs are tense. Oh how she loves his thighs.

She loves them enough that before she wraps her mouth around him, she bends down to kiss his thighs. 

She glances up at him as she does, enjoying the small twist of his lips when he looks back down at her. Now, she doesn’t mind his gaze. Because despite the implications, Harry is most certainly not in charge right now. She is.

After biting down on his thigh – just to hear his sharp hiss – Yasmine opens her mouth and takes him in.

His thighs tighten even more. 

Yasmine presses her tongue against him. Harry’s fingers grip her hair when she sucks gently at his tip. 

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, tilting his head back. “Fuck me.”

Yasmine’s stomach flutters. She watches him, enjoying the rise of his chest, the strain of his neck with the beautiful vein protruding every so often. Harry’s head turns to look down at her suddenly, hips rising just barely to meet her mouth.

He gives her a look.

She nods.

He blows air from his mouth and gently thrusts into her mouth, careful and soft despite the firm grip on her hair.

“If I’d known,” he murmurs, “that you’d get like this, I’d have tried the outfit on even sooner.”

Yasmine gasps softly as she pulls off of him. “It’s not only the outfit.”

He laughs, wiping the corner of her lips, which should be damn well embarrassing or weird, but neither of them seem to care. She wraps her mouth around him again, cutting off his laughter with a groan.

After a few moments, her dress begins to slip from her shoulders. Harry’s eyes catch the movement right away and his hips stutter. She’d make a joke but there are more concerning matters presently. Having been with him for a long time, Yasmine knows exactly what he likes: how she should use her tongue, her hands, her eyes that blink up at him all pretty.

“So pretty,” Harry mumbles, on cue. She feels him run his thumb over her cheek as if there’s something to be endeared about right now.

Just before he’s about to come, Harry pulls on her hair and gets her to pull off so he could bend down and kiss her mouth, and then let her tug on him.

“Not on the dress please,” Yasmine says, voice shot.

“I’ll try, baby.”

He manages quite well actually, especially with Yasmine’s effort to move out of the way, letting him spill over her hand instead. His desperate whimpers keep Yasmine’s eyes glued to him.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Harry protests softly when her hand keeps moving over him. “That’s enough.”

Grinning, Yasmine fixes her dress and grabs a few tissues from the coffee table to wipe her hand.

“Maybe instead of going to the trivia night, we can do more of this tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Harry hums, still catching his breath. “Not a chance.”

“Oh come on. This is so much more fun!”

He tucks himself back in and holds his hand out, making her climb into his lap. “No.”

“You’re such a –”

“Nerd?” He laughs, grabbing the back of her neck. “I am.” And then he kisses her slowly, clearly having no issue with what they’ve just done. “Thank you.”

Yasmine hopes her face accurately portrays the glare she thinks she’s putting on. Harry’s eyes are soft and filled with love – but that’s entirely unhelpful because they always are. 

“Just don’t break up with me when I say that Han Solo is Luke’s father.”

Harry holds her tighter. “I’ll try not to.” Then he grabs her waist, pulling her to him. He stands easily, keeping her balanced on him, her legs tight about his torso. “Come on. I’ve got a favor to repay. And the dress stays on, understood?”

Yasmine shivers, despite herself. "Understood."

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: girls, i’m really sorry for the sudden disappearance. i had work plus lots to deal in life and a bad situationship that ended horribly, so now i have more time and i’ll be back with more updates. this is the next chapter of “why can’t i hate you?” and matt is gonna spill some secrets, stay tuned. hehe.

chapter four.

after finally getting home, you went to bed without checking your phone. chris was still sending messages and you also saw matt’s name on the notifications. but considering the earlier events, both matt’s and chris behaviour, you needed time to think before talking to them. you hated acting out of emotions, people hurt each other in the heat of the moment and that could possibly lead to a cycle end and to be honest, even though chris was suddenly acting like a fucking possessive person, you didn’t want to lose him.

eventually, you fell asleep hugging one of your pillows with a hundred thoughts in mind.

it’s monday, you got up late and went to work in a rush. only having time to take a kick shower and brush your teeth. at this point, you had 30 messages and since there was literally no time to actually read them, you just drove to work in completely silence. half of your brain was a war, the other half was completely calm, thinking in a racional way. the problem is you’re not being able to balance those two things like you usually do.

the day was extremely slow and stressful, some clients had a lot of questions and repeated them multiple times, so you had to explain over and over with your mind already full of thoughts.

you didn’t have lunch break either, a way of coping with an overflowing mind was throwing yourself in work but when was time to go home, your whole body was rigid and in pain.

you went home driving slowly, still in complete silence but your phone starts ringing.

“not right now, chris.” you whisper to yourself rolling your eyes but after a quick glance at the screen, you see matt’s name.

after thinking for a bit, you decided to pullover to answer the call, something inside your heart told you to.

“hi.” he says, and you look at the sky trying to keep your mind clear.

“hey…” you reply, but he doesn’t say anything for a while. with frowned eyebrows, you ask. “did you meant to call someone else?”

“no, it’s just…” you hear a loud sigh. “do you wanna meet me somewhere? we need to talk.”

“um, i’m almost home.” you said, pondering if that was a good idea. “wanna meet me there?”

“good, i’m already here.” you heard him say and before you could answer, he hang up.

you drove faster, but safely. nothing could take the thoughts out off of your mind, the memories from last night and the theories of what matthew could possibly have to say.

the thing is, no one messes with your head when it comes to mixed actions. especially men. they were all like that, you just assume what’s going on in their head and they act all surprised because you’re usually right. and until days ago, you knew matthew. you knew by the way he reacted to your teasing, every single thought he had. but after last night… everything is a blur, you don’t know what to think, you have no control over your emotions, you can’t even say no when he asks to meet you out of nowhere in such a hard day.

before you noticed, you got home. no one was there which made you confused but not surprised, maybe he left after getting impatient? that’s so him.

after parking the car in the garage, you slowly open the door entering still confused. everything was dark and before you could touch the light switch, someone grabbed you by the waist, turning you around. your heart skipped a beat, you grip the person’s hand and twist it with a quick move, making them face the wall.

“hey, hey. it’s me, matt!” he gasps, yelling.

your eyes widen, staring for a second at the back of matt’s head. “the fuck are you doing? how did you get inside?” you ask firmly.

“the spare key, under the plant…” he’s out of breath, almost moaning in pain from your grip. “nick told me.”

you roll your eyes, letting matt’s hand go and buffing. “that kid needs to shut his mouth.”

he sighs, massaging his wrist and biting his lips. you observe him, the way he’s sensitive to touch. the lack of sleep and rest probably got to you because wide things went through your mind.

“don’t ever do that again.” you tell him, throwing your purse on the couch and taking off your blazer. matthew is staring at you without saying anything. you raise a brow.

“what?” you ask and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck.

“nothing, it’s just… you look different wearing that.” he says still not looking at you. “usually you dress like a homeless person.”

“you came here to talk or tease me?” you ask with an annoyed face and he chuckles. that was the first time you heard his little laugh or saw a smile that wasn’t mean on his lips.

“sorry, i…” he finally looks at you, staring at your eyes while leaning against your living room wall. “can i ask you a question?”

the girl looks at the blue eyed boy for a few seconds, confused. what exaclty he could possibly be so curious about and why is he being so… different?

“go on.” she says, taking her heels off.

“do you have a thing for chris?” his voice is low, but loud enough for her to hear. he holds his breath, trying hard not to punch himself for being so stupid.

“why?” she raises a brow, walking to the couch and sitting there, crossing her legs with a nonchalant and calm face.

“you can’t answer a question with another one.” he rolls his eyes and heads to the couch next to hers, sitting calmly.

“i never thought about it.” she replies his question honestly, she really didn’t think about it until the day before when the whole thing happened. “he’s my best friend, i look at him and see my soulmate.” she notices a certain discomfort on matt’s face but decides to ignore it and continue her thoughs. “but not in that way.”

“not what it looked like yesterday.” he says before thinking, internally screaming at himself and she tilts her head again, laughing. “what’s so funny?”

“what’s with you, matt?” she asks him, frowning.

“what do you mean?”

“if i didn’t know you i’d say you’re jealous.”

“bullshit, and you don’t know me.”

“then why?”

“what?”

“why do you care if i’m into chris or not?”

he avoids her penetrating gaze for a few seconds, maybe for a full minute and knowing he couldn’t escape the question, he finally looks at her again.

“because i can’t allow it to happen.” he says firmly, clenching his jaw.

if she was confused before, now the girl was puzzled beyond words and thoughts.

“you think i’m gonna hurt chris? because i would ne…”

“that’s not why.” he interrups her, his eyes telling her more than his words. “i can’t bare to see you with him, that’s all.”

“why?”

an urge to get up and walk towards him washes over the girl’s body, she goes almost in slow motion and matthew follows her steps without blinking.

“why?” she asks again, now right in front of him. he’s looking up at her, his jawline is clenched and his hands are gripping his jeans.

“because…” he whispers, his voice cracking and she bends over facing him closely, matt lets out a sigh with her breath hitting his face. “because if you can’t be mine you won’t be his either.”

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 14 - Secrets and Sapphires

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

Maris’ anger had not diminished in your absence, and she was certainly glad of the thunderous scolding you received from your father.

His finger pointing, his voice booming so loudly you imagine half the keep can hear it.

Stupid, careless, girl.

He was right, you had been careless. You’d lost yourself in Aemond’s company and what could be more careless than that?  

Except, that wasn’t why he was angry. You'd gone missing for hours and your mothers' cheeks were still stained with tears. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you mean it, “I won’t let it happen again.” 

“You shouldn’t even let her join us in the hall tonight!” Maris pipes in when the shouting has dwindled down to a halt, her eyes narrowed and vengeful.  

But her attempt at siding with your father is soon thwarted because Borros Baratheon doles out the punishments, not his daughters, and a fresh wave of anger washes over him. 

“Quiet girl!” he snaps, before returning his attention back to you, his voice booming again, “you’ll get changed and you’ll do it quickly or so help me!”  

You don't need to be told twice, and rush to your room, pulling a yellow gown from your armoire before thinking better of it.  

Maris already thought you were trying to steal Aemond and, in her mind, yellow was the colour to do it in. So, you reach for the sapphire blue, making tonight its third outing of the summer and perhaps its final one too.   

You’re still fiddling with the tiny buttons when Cassandra sneaks into your room with a pitying look.  

She sits patiently on the bed, waiting for you to finish before picking up your brush and nudging you onto the stool next to your vanity. 

“We can’t have you looking like this,” she says, her voice cheerful as she gently pulls the brush through all the knots which had formed in the rain. 

Trying not to wince each time she hits a snag, you sit quietly, miserably , worrying the skirt of your dress and wishing your father had forced you to stay behind.  

You're still shaken from the way his voice had boomed in your ears, and you’d rather curl up in a ball and cry, instead of facing an evening of polite conversation and Maris’ seemingly endless supply of anger.  

“She’ll get over it,” Cassandra says, and you know she’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier. If you could skip forward to a place where Maris didn’t hate you, you would, but there was no quick fix, only time.  

“And...” she begins, waiting for you to meet her eye in the mirror, “ I think we both know she never had a chance.”  

Heart suddenly in your throat, you look at your hands, hoping to hide any of the thoughts which may have escaped onto your face.  

But Cassandra doesn’t need any confirmation of what she already knows to be true. 

“I do not believe I’ve ever seen Prince Aemond look at Maris the way he looks at you,” she says, and you stiffen, it was exactly what the Queen had said at the tourney. 

“If you knew why , you would be ashamed to have me as your sister.” 

You look up from your hands just in time to see Cassandra’s eyes widen with horror, the brush stopping its progress.  

“Do not tell me you have given him your virtue?”   

“No! ” you say quickly, surprised by her suggestion.  

Though, for one brief moment, you can’t help but imagine what that would be like.  

High Valyrian rolling from his tongue, long fingers wrapping around your waist instead of books. Would his kiss be gentle, hesitant even? Just a soft, momentary press of lips to test your willing.  

Or would it be certain? Urgent? Would he push you up against the bookcases, hard and feverish, his lips devouring yours before finding the racing pulse at your neck, his hands moving from your waist, hitching up the skirts of your dress and-  

Clearing your throat, you banish the thought away, but not quickly enough. Your cheeks are more than a little flushed when you admit, “I met him before we came to court.”  

“Where ?” 

“On the beach below the keep.”  

She laughs, her brow knitted with confusion, “why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

“Because I was alone… and I was…” you hold your tongue, could you really tell her the truth?  

“I was swimming ,” you whisper, and it feels both cathartic and terrifying at the same time.  

Cassandra’s fingers fall from your hair altogether and you dare not look at her in the mirror. Instead, you turn to meet her, face to face, your heart pounding harder than before, your palms slick with sickening nerves. 

Yet, instead of shame you find anger, an emotion which barely ever registers on her face, and her voice is low, tense .  

“Did he hurt you?” she demands in a hushed whisper which is no less powerful than your fathers bellowing. 

“No ,” you gasp, knowing precisely what she is thinking as you reach to touch her arm and reassure her, “he only looked, but he has teased me about it all summer.” 

She laughs then, relieved , her hands returning to your hair. “No wonder he looks at you like that .” 

“Like what?” 

“Like he is constantly on the brink of kissing you.” 

Your cheeks flush yet again, but Cassandra’s tone hardens, scolding you. “You know you really should have told me this months ago. And Maris. How could she ever stand a chance when Prince Aemond had already fallen in love with you?” 

“He loves tormenting me, nothing more.”  

“If you say so,” Cassandra teases before shaking her head, “I still cannot believe you thought you could keep this a secret. Heavens, you can be so wilful sometimes.” 

“But you’ll promise not to tell anyone?” you say, desperately, and by ‘anyone’, you mean Maris. 

“We are sisters, your secrets are mine to keep, not to share,” she reassures, sliding the last pin into your hair and you relax, turning on the stool to hug her tightly.  

It was strange, but despite all your torment, you hadn’t realised just how much you’d needed such comfort until her arms were wrapping around your shoulders and she was kissing the top of your head.  

It was no secret that you and Cassandra had never been as close as you and Maris, who were like partners in crime compared to your perfect, angelic, older sister. But her embrace is so steadfast, that it seems impossible to imagine you could have any better friend or sister than her. 

“You know...” she starts, as you pull away from the embrace, “we never did get to the bottom of who sent us these gowns...” 

You look down at your dress, the sapphire bodice glimmering with gems, and she was right. After trying to thank Tyland Lannister, you hadn’t really wanted to think who could have bought them. Or why. 

“Helaena told me that when Aemond lost his eye, they offered to replace it with gold,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “he chose a sapphire instead.” 

“A sapphire?” you choke, picturing the way it might glitter beneath the patch across his eye. So beautiful, so radiant.  Just like your gown.  

Then you think of the times you’d wore the dress in front of him and feel as though you might be sick. From nerves, from anger, from the sheer audacity of the knowing smiles you’d seen on his face each time. 

Were you really wearing something he’d picked out?   

You didn’t want to believe it, but who else could afford such a thing?  

Who else would choose this exact shade of sapphire blue?  

Hurrying towards your armoire, you reach for the yellow gown once again but it's too late. Your father's voice is booming into your room and it's time to leave, whether you’re ready or not. 

Cursing the entire situation, you trail behind your family all the way to the hall, wondering how long it would take them to notice if you decided to slip away. If you hadn’t gone missing this afternoon, you would chance it, but you’re not sure you can withstand any more of your father's anger. 

Instead, you think, so what if Aemond chose your dress? It didn’t mean anything .  

Except, you can’t even hold that lie in your brain for more than a moment before it falls apart.  Because it did mean something. Everything he’d done meant something . 

He’d met you on the beach in spring and thought of you often enough to invite you here for summer, to choose the books on your nightstand, and purchase the most beautiful gown you’d ever seen, for no other purpose than to see you standing in a room wearing the exact shade of his eye.  

Yet, the same man who’d done all those things, had also stolen more than one look at your naked body, threatened all your suitors, toyed with Maris, told everyone you couldn’t dance, embarrassed you in front of his mother, and killed Ser Glover in cold blood. 

He was impulsive, arrogant and completely ignorant to anyone’s feelings but his own. You still hated him, a few hours in the library couldn’t change that.  

You could only pray that he would not be in the hall tonight because hating him and facing him were too very different things.  

Yet there he was. Across the room. A dark line of fine black leather, his eye meeting with yours, holding all your attention before it slowly sinks to your dress.  

The slightest twitch of a smile quivers at his lips, and you know, beyond any doubt, that he was the mysterious secret admirer who’d sent three gowns to the Baratheon sisters. One pink, one lilac and one sapphire blue. 

You swallow hard and he begins to move, abandoning the people he was in conversation with, his usual cocky gait carrying him quickly across the room and, more importantly, directly towards you.  

He’s already made it halfway before you jump into action. 

Seven hells!  

What was he thinking?  

He was Aemond Targaryen. When he walked, people watched.  

Maris watched.  

He couldn’t just walk right up to you like this. He wasn’t the kind of man who walked right up to anyone- unless he was threatening them.  

Breaking away from your family, you skirt around the edge of the room, and he changes direction. Another smile twitching at his lips, as though he’s enjoying the chase. But you’re not going far, just far enough so Maris cannot see past the crowds. 

You wait for Aemond by a thick stone column and, when he’s close enough, you push him behind it, so you can be hidden from all the prying eyes that might be watching.  

“We can find more privacy than this if you wish to have me alone, issa jorrāelagon,” he says, a devilish smirk now filling his cheeks entirely. 

You sigh sharply, “that is the last thing I want!”  

“Are you certain?” his gaze scrapes down, to where the tips of your fingers are still pressed against his chest, “then why are you pinning me against a wall?” 

Embarrassed , you snatch your hands away, knotting them behind your back, your heart thumping as he laughs, enjoying every ounce of your torment as per usual. 

Then you let out an exasperated sigh, wondering, yet again, how you’d spent so many hours with this man.  

“You cannot just walk right up to me in front of the entire room,” you warn and, though a small frown creases into his brow, amusement still holds sway over his face.  

“How else am I to ask you to dance?”  

“You cannot!” you exclaim tartly, appalled to think that was what he was planning on doing. “You cannot even speak to me in front of them. I forbid it .” 

“You forbid your prince?” 

“Yes , Maris hates me enough as it is and, if you consider yourself my friend , you will do no more harm between us.” 

At that, you try to leave, feeling you have already spent far too long with the most conspicuous man in the room, but his hand slides to your waist, holding you still. 

“Do you consider yourself my friend?” he asks, and you cannot think of anything more dangerous than friendship with a dragon, but you’d say anything to placate him. 

“We can be friends if you stay away from me.”  

He snorts, “that's a strange recipe for friendship, would you not say?” 

“Not if the friendship is already strange,” you retort before pulling away from his grasp and heading straight towards your family, only to be intercepted by Lord Boremund before you can even make it five paces. 

“Little cousin,” he says, taking your hand, “please allow me the honour of your first dance this evening.” 

You accept, glad to be away from Maris for as long as possible and surprised when Ser Robin asks for your next dance, then Lord Thorne for your third.  

It seemed Aemond had not only allowed Tyland Lannister to resume the pursuit of your hand, but half of court too. Yet, like Tyland Lannister, it only made these men seem both spineless and fickle. 

Were they all afraid of a dragon?   

So, instead of feeling pleased to be dancing with them, you find yourself feeling increasingly annoyed, and you’re not the only one. 

Throughout every turn you make around the floor, you see Aemond pacing the edges like a caged animal and three dances is all it takes before he breaks. 

He strides fast, unconcerned by the movement swirling to avoid him, and you watch his every step with both heart pounding surprise and gut-wrenching exasperation, as he sweeps into Lord Thorne’s place and steals your hand without a single word to the other man.  

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath, extremely conscious of the scene he is creating.  

“It seems I cannot be your friend, ” he retorts, but you hardly hear him, you’re too busy looking around. Pleased to see that people are not pointing or staring, and the dance is continuing as though nothing is amiss.  

It’s only Lord Thorne who looks out of place, his cheeks flushed with anger, his steps faltering as he tries to move around the other couples.  

At this point, you think it might actually draw more attention if you stop dancing, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about the situation. You’re so mad at Aemond, you could stamp on his stupid foot. 

“You could have at least waited for the next dance,” you scold, knowing you would have rejected his offer, if he had actually asked.  

“I want all your dances, including this one,” he says, leading you into a turn and when you’re facing him again, you glare, ensuring he knows that, despite your current actions, you’re still very much annoyed. 

“And you think nothing of what I want?” you say. It was not half an hour since you’d told him not to speak with you, let alone dance with you. Yet here you were, in his arms. 

“Would you rather dance with them instead of me ?” 

Words stick on your tongue, and you're glad for another turn, so you can think of an answer, because you can’t exactly tell him ‘no’ .  

You wouldn’t rather dance with them.  

Lord Boremund was your cousin, Ser Robin was far too tall, and Lord Thorne was perfectly fine and perfectly handsome, except his touch did not set your skin ablaze as Aemond’s did.  

You face him again, and you must say something, so you think of propriety and all the rules which had been drummed into your head since you were old enough to walk. “As an unmarried lady, I shall not be obliged to give special treatment to anyone, even his grace.” 

“Then marry me.” 

What?  

You’re so surprised, you can’t help but laugh, your mind spinning, your cheeks heating beyond reason. “ Be serious, ” you say, almost choking on the words as they splutter from your lips. 

“I am,” he replies with a low voice, and he isn’t joking. He’s waiting, wanting, but you cannot possibly give him the answer he craves. 

You cannot even speak as he draws you in, holding you far closer than any man should in a room full of people. One hand on your lower back, the other brushing the length of your arm before he curls his fingers into yours.  

If there had been butterflies in the library, there are dragons now. Hatching carelessly in the pit of your stomach. Hot and dangerous, long wings reaching to the very tips of your toes until you feel flimsy in his sturdy embrace. 

You open your mouth, but there are no words, and what’s left is far worse than any words could ever be. You hate the sound which pants breathlessly from your lips, soft, submissive , welcoming his advances wholeheartedly.  

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were enjoying this. But you’re not. You don’t want him. Not as a friend, not as a husband.  

Yet your eyes still graze his lips, and you find yourself wondering, for the second time in a single evening, what it would be like to be kissed by him. 

"Marry me, Lady Baratheon,” he says again, and you both miss a step in the dance, almost colliding with another couple, before you regain control of your senses and wedge your free hand between your chest and his. 

Gods. You cannot meet his eye.  

“You do not dance well enough for me to condemn myself to marriage,” you whisper, your voice strained, before you force another laugh to break the tension. 

If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it, his tone is still light, playful even. “Is it marriage you disapprove of, or your prince?”  

You breathe out another shaky breath, but your voice is a little stronger when you say, “I do not disapprove of marriage. ” Only dragons.  

Aemond’s huff of amusement is light, meant only for your ears, and you’re grateful when the dance requires you to break from his arms and weave between the other partners. 

Inhaling a lung full of air, you’re certain not to let him reel you in again. Instead, you hold yourself rigid, your palm pressed against his chest to prevent any further encroachment into the battlements you’re trying desperately to defend. 

“Now behave yourself or I shall be forced to return to my room, for yet another evening,” you warn, daring to meet his eye. 

“Good ,” he smiles triumphantly, seeming to enjoy the way you’re struggling to hold him at bay, “I shall meet you there.” 

“With the guard outside the door?” you say hotly, imagining the look on Ser Maurin’s face if Aemond tried to waltz into your room without a chaperone. 

He leans in harder, forcing your arm to cave against his strength, “I shall climb in through the window.” 

When you turn again, you jab his rib, not too hard but hard enough to make him wince and remind him how difficult climbing would be with such an injury, “I think not , and in any case, I shall bolt it to be certain.” 

He chuckles and, though you’re not looking at him, you can picture just how smug his smile must be as he says, “you imagine a bolt across a window could stop me?” 

“No ,” you glance back to meet his eye, “but I’d hope his grace would not force himself into someone’s company if they had asked him to stop .” 

The music finishes before he can reply, and all the other couples break away with bows and curtsies to find someone new. 

But not you and Aemond. Aemond wants all your dances, and he does not relinquish control of your hand despite your efforts. He holds it tight, possessive, and you can feel as people begin to stare.  

“I shall scream if you do not let me go this instant,” you hiss under your breath, trying to remain composed. 

His jaw tightens, frustration seeming to cling to every muscle in his body just as he loosens his grip, sliding his hand behind his back so his stance is as formal as it is unyielding. 

When you turn to leave, you notice Maris who’s been staring at the whole scene with daggers instead of eyes.  

“If you truly care about me at all,” you begin, purposely avoiding his gaze, “you will ask someone else to dance this instant or I fear Maris will never forgive me.” 

Aemond snorts, “when you are here and she is in Storms End, it will not matter what she thinks.” 

“It matters to me!” you say, a little too loudly, but you’re so painfully annoyed with him that you can hardly be expected to contain your temper, “not that you seem to think of anything but your own selfish desires.” 

When you walk away, you feel him step to follow before he hesitates and turns on his heel to walk in the opposite direction.  

Not that you dare to look back or feel any relief that he has not followed you, you’re too anxious for that.  

Instead, you make it to where your sisters are standing with Belis, and Maris laughs as she says, “it seems Prince Aemond is pitying all the wallflowers with a dance this evening.” 

Then you do look at him and, just as you’d asked, he’s escorting another to the floor. Lady Staunten, who’d not danced all summer and seemed more terrified than pleased to be in his company. 

“Shall we take a turn of the room?” Cassandra offers with a warm smile and you’re grateful for another opportunity to leave Maris’ bad mood behind. 

“Did you ask him about the dress?” she says, when you are far enough away from the others and, quite honestly, you’d forgotten about the dress altogether.  

But you don’t say that, or anything, you’re too distracted, craning your neck to watch Aemond as he moves methodically across the floor, as though the dance holds no joy, only steps.  

Did he really just ask you to marry him?  

It was such a surprise, it felt like you could have imagined the whole thing. In fact, you wish you had imagined it. Then you wouldn’t have to think about it, and you were quite certain you could think of little else. 

It wasn’t every day a man asked you such a question- o r ever. But you couldn’t be entirely sure of Aemond’s motives. Did he truly want marriage and all that it entailed, or was it just another hot-headed impulse?  

Though you suppose none of that really mattered, since there were no circumstances in which you would agree to be his wife. Even if he wasn’t the most arrogant man in the world, he was still a Targaryen, and they were a strange family with even stranger proclivities.  

Yet, by the time you’ve walked an entire circle of the room, he’s asking another wallflower to dance, and you feel the unmistakable claw of envy, scratching at your skin. 

You turn away, wanting to forget about him but there was really no forgetting Aemond Targaryen. 

There wasn’t even safety in the bosom of your family. There was Alicent, talking to your mother with a coy smile and, for one heart stopping moment, you wonder if she knows . If they both know. 

Because marriage would not be a choice if your mother was involved. There would be no question about it, you’d be given to the crown without a single thought for your wishes, and that would be that .  

“Ah, Lady Baratheon,” Alicent says, noticing the way you’re lingering in her periphery.  

You curtsy politely, heart pounding as she waves her hand to beckon you closer.   

“We were just discussing how pleasant it would be to enjoy the last days of summer with a picnic in the Kingswood. Do you ride?”  

“Yes ." You even enjoyed it under usual circumstances.  

"Good,” she laughs, the curls in her hair bouncing with the movement, “there is not much room in the wheelhouse for so many ladies and the fresh air will give you vigour.”  

You start, thinking your mother might have something to say about the suggestion but she’s nodding along with the Queen. “You mean for me to ride all the way to the Kingswood?” you confirm, thinking it an unlikely ask for a high borne lady. 

“I’m sure one of the men will keep you company,” Alicent says as though it's the most natural thing in the world. But what she means is, Aemond will keep you company . 

Without thinking, you turn to look at him, annoyed that you cannot seem to retain autonomy over your own gaze, which seems intent to seek him out despite your wishes. 

When you turn back to look at Alicent, her smile reminds you so much of her son that you almost tell her to hell with the Kingswood and to hell with Aemond. But you’re sure your mother would have some choice words if you humiliated her in front of the Queen. 

So, you return her smile, thanking The Seven that Alicent has no idea her son just asked you to marry him. But she’s expecting it, you can see it on her face.  

What had Aemond said in the library? 

That she would finally think he was consenting to giving her a grandchild. Well, you aren’t consenting. As far as you were concerned, you had two older sisters and it was only proper that they should marry first. 

~~~

Thank you for reading!

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

fluffy kid!stancest first kiss on glass shard beach would be so cute maybe by the swings or when they first find what would become the stan o war

combining these two together, but 2nd anon PLEASE know your ask got me writing old stancest at first that immediately turned hurt and comfort, so i'll be posting that when i actually finish it udndhdhdu this one is a bit of a rush job, BUT i hope you guys like it! this is my first time writing kid stancest, trying to run my head over how boys just banter and this is the best i could relay lmao. also if ford's internal dialogue isnt as flowery as it ought to be, it's mostly because i do still want it to sound like it's coming from a child, and i imagine Ford's internal dialogue wasn't fully realized until he's at least a littls older, you know?

anyway enough stalling: please enjoy!

~~~

Ford thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sitting on a crate, Stanford watches Stanley draw on the sand with the end of a big stick, planning all their great adventures when they finally get out of this place, the promise of their Big Day of Adventure made them giddy all day, bouncing on the heels of their feet all over the beach until the deck guys they "borrowed" a can of paint from earlier found them, chasing them off and forcing the two of them to take cover. They did, only belatedly realizing they had to come back for their ship since their dream did rely on them fixing up the boat to be in top condition for it to sail. Luckily they didn't take their ship, so the two of them were able to push it back into the alcove they found it, keeping it their own little secret.

Ford looks at it in awe again. In bold letters, "The Stan O' War" stares back at him. Their promise of the future. A future with his brother, forever

"And then— Poindexter are ya listening?!" Stan asks, tapping the stick lightly on Ford's head who swats it away with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah! I am, I am!"

"Good, cuz you better hear this!" Stan resumes drawing on the sand. Ford looks down, tilting his head quizically.

"Why are we standing on top of the sun?"

"That's an octopus!" Stan points to the pile of squigly lines Ford thought had been the ocean. "See?"

"That's still kinda impossible."

"Aw, shuddap!" Stan scoffs playfully, then proceeds to draw fish tails with long noses and circle ends.  "Of course its possible! This is after I killed it, and we're doin' a victory cheer on top of it!" Stan pumps his fist in the air, and begins chanting, echoing loud across the alcove: "PINES! PINES! PINES! And after—"

"Wait, how did we kill it?"

"I beat it up, duh!"

"What did I do?"

Stan huffs. "You math, science and bored it to death, you big nerd," he says with an annoyed expression, which quickly gives away to snickers as he dodges the fistful of sand Ford throws in his direction, leaving a grainy cloud in its wake. Stan points back at his drawing, at the long nosed fish with lines protruding off the top. Until Ford blinks, and tilts his head again, realizing that the messy scribbles are probably meant to be... "Anyway, after we totally beat this giant octopus monster, all the mermaid babes will be all over us! They'd give us kisses, and hugs, and and–"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ford snorts loudly. "Stanley... you want to kiss fish ladies?"

An offended look crosses Stan's face, and if it wasn't for the sunburn already staining his and Ford's skin an angry, blistering red, Ford could swear Stan was blushing, his cheeks puffing, brown eyes wide and fists clenching. Cute, Ford thinks, so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

But he does.

Just like how his shoulder catches Stan's fists, sending him to more fits of giggling as he goes down.

"Shaddup, shaddup, shut uuuuuuuup," Stan continues his playful assault, clearly trying to not to smile, but Ford's laughter catches him like the infectious bug that went around school three months ago, and his grin stretches wild as he pushes Ford to the ground, and planting himself on Ford's short legs. Ford's hand land on his shoulders, trying and obviously failing at pushing off his stronger brother with all his twelve fingered might, but maybe it's because Ford is laughing too much he's out of breath, chest shaking while he heaves his giggles. Maybe it's the weird but nice heaviness Stan is forcing on him, and Ford counts that as the fifth time this day Stan made him feel that: 'weird but nice.'

Yesterday was seven whole times.

"Get off me, jerk!"

"You're the jerk," Stan argues, catching Ford's hands and pinning them down to the sand, grinning at Ford who's completely caught under him. "You've been making fun of me the whole time!"

"No I wasn't! I think it's cool you wanna kiss fish ladies!"

"They're not fish ladies, Sixer! They're mermaids!" Stan argues, looking a lot like Ford when he exasperatedly explains that solving the daily crossword on the newspaper is not lame, just with the additional large gap between his teeth, bandage on his face, cute puffy cheeks, which almost sends Ford to another laughing fit. "Mermaids are cool! No, they're hot!"

"If you say so," Ford shrugs, feeling the soft grains of sand move against his back. "They'd smell like fish though, but I think you would like that."

"Pfff," Stan lets go and straightens up to blow a raspberry, tilting himself to flop onto the sand next to Ford, moving so his fingers brushed Ford's when at their hips. Sixth. "Like you're any different. I bet you have a lot of weird stuff you wanna kiss too. You're obsessed with your ano– anama—"

"Anamolies."

"Aliens. I bet you wanna kiss aliens."

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"I don't," Ford insists, but he's definitely thought about it. Not in a weird way, of course. He wonders about kissing a lot of things, like growing boys do, like the health developmental sections of science books say so! Girls. Boys sometimes.

Boys most of the time.

A boy, most of the time.

"If you say so," Stan repeats dismissively, stretching his arms over his head while Ford watches behind his glasses. Feeling the sand starting to get to that 'pointy, sticky and annoying' state when someone lays on it, he sits up, eyes landing on the Stan O' War again. Stan follows, quickly sitting up.

"What'cha thinking of?"

"Just wondering the capability of weight distribution on the boat."

"Uh...."

"I wonder if it's actually strong enough to hold us up to sail. We're gonna have to fix that up before we take it to the water, remember? Maybe it's not even built for two people."

The last part came out of his mouth without thinking, and Ford is alarmed with the quick moment of doubt. For a second, their dream seemed a little impossible.

Stan pushes himself up, and runs to the stationed boat.

"Stan? What are you—"

"Keep up, Sixer!" Stan exclaims, grabbing onto the ledge of the boat, and suddenly Ford is running after his brother. All caution thrown out of his system when Stan lifts himself over the edge and on top of the boat's deck effortlessly.

"Stan!"

"Look, Ford, it's fine!" Stan exclaims, arms spread wide and standing victoriously. Ford grabs hold of the ledge, and tries to lift his legs over, only to almost fall off with a "Whoa!"— until Stan's hand latches onto his.

"Hold on," Stan tugs until Ford's body lifts high enough for him to wrap his arms around Ford's shoulders. He grunts, pulling the rest of his twin's body with all his strength before falling onto the deck, Ford landing on top of his legs.

Somehow, they find themselves almost exactly as before, just in reverse, skin still grainy and sticky and hot-red, Ford's chest shaking again but this time it's from panting in the short burst of physical activity. His face close to Stan's, Ford feels a bubbling in his chest, a little tingle all over his skin. One he wants to blame on the summer heat still simmering outside the cave or maybe the sunburn all over his back and torso, but it's not that.

Seventh.

"You're kinda heavy for a stick, Sixer."

Ford punches his shoulder this time, smirking. "Shut up, jerk."

"Now you hate it," Stan comes back smugly, then glances down at the deck. "Hey, look! It can hold the both of us after all!"

Remembering his previous concerns, he looks down on the boat, then raps his knuckles onto the floorboards. It's actually pretty sturdy for how old Ford theorized it to be. That's pretty cool.

"Guess we can cross that out of the stuff we have to fix up," Ford concludes. He pushes his glasses over his nose, thinking deeply again. "Still have a lot of stuff to consider though. Plus, who knows how much bigger we'll get too..." He muses, mostly to himself.

So many to consider... Ford doesn't think even his freakish hands could count all the ways it could go right, or wrong, if it goes anywhere at all... it's kind of big, and open, and Ford thinks it's almost like the ocean itself.

"Eh, don't worry about that stuff so much, Sixer," Stan shrugs, his voice breakjng through Ford's train of thought. Ford realizes he's still very much on Stanley's legs, and maybe it's because all the running, pushing, wrestling they've done all day that completely wrung him out, or maybe it's because the warm bubbling in his chest that overflows and keeps his own legs stuck like sap, but unlike Stan, Ford can't bring himself to move off, move away from Stan. His brown eyes wide, grin with a goofy gap in the teeth and cheeks puffing, Stan looks ready to sail off right then and there.

"As long as you've got me, we can do everything. We're getting out of this place no matter what."

Ford smiles warmly. Somehow he could never get tired doing that around his brother and that's weird. It's nice. His hands find Stan's shoulders, and without thinking, he blurts out:

"Stanley... It wasn't aliens."

"Wait, wha—"

And Ford presses his lips to Stan's. He doesn't really know how to do this. It's kinda gross, with Stan tasting like sand and sweat from rolling around it all day, but so did Ford and getting past that, it just feels good. Almost on instinct, he pulls away panic rising at throat, because Oh no, Stan will think I'm a freak too.

But Stan leans forward too, almost knocking Ford's glasses away and also not knowing what he's doing, but it feels nice. Really, really nice.

Eighth.

Ford thinks he could stay counting those forever.

~~

If you like this send another prompt or a prompt of your own! Hope you liked this anons, be it sufficiently fluffy enough lmao

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! this means war.

you're fed up. with everything. with your ex, with his mistress fiancee, with the internet who are firmly exiling you to "total loser island". you feel like you're going insane, so what do you do? you yell into the void about all your frustrations, obviously.

or, you blow up atsumu's inbox...not like he'll see it

POST CREDITS! —

You feel quite content with yourself, actually.

You heard anecdotes from people online, sharing stories about how free they felt after really grilling into whoever wronged them instead of taking the highroad and staying silent. While you didn't disbelieve them, you haven't had any opportunity to try it out until now. And...

They were absolutely right. You have never felt so empowered in your life. Additionally, now that you know everything you griped with over the past few weeks is out on the table, it doesn't feel like a secret anymore. No longer this scary thing that you can't say out loud with breaking down. The opposite, actually. You only feel acceptance towards Atsumu. Begrudging acceptance, yes, but acceptance nonetheless. There is nothing else you can do but lay him out to dry with your side of things.

Another perk of roasting him in his texts is that you remembered more than you originally did. Things you blocked out or just forgot in the haze of the past week, all of them rushed to the forefront of your mind. All the anger, the sadness, the grief, the inconsolable "why?" without an answer.

It was amazing inspiration. Immaculate, even.

You even managed to write the damn thing (the song, that is)! And it didn't take multiple hours of pacing to get there! While you still lack a melody and instrumentals, you have a vague idea of what you want it to sound like.

Humming to yourself in bed, you slip your headphones over your ears. Your phone is shuffling through random snippets of instrumentals from your signed label days. You sing the lyrics under your breath, hoping to find the one instrumental that will be a match. Like Cinderella and her glass slipper, only you and...some really shitty beats, frankly.

You can have him if you like I've been there, done that once or twice And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care Yeah, I know I've been known to share!

NOTES! —

Sorry for the smaller chapter today! I just couldn’t think of a way to fluff it up that wouldn’t already be included in future chapters. If I do get any ideas though, I’ll be sure to update this and post a notif. Anyways, today’s fundraiser is to help the Liberty Lancers Marching Band purchase new uniforms! While it may seem miniscule compared to other "issues", as someone who's partner marches and has come to love band themselves, having new uniforms would mean the world for these students. You can click here to donate or read more on their story.

In other news, I am back from my (tiny) break! Though I’ll admit, I didn’t use that time wisely to plan ahead for my next releases LOL. I had fun though!

I presented my speech in class on Tuesday, which wasn’t as scary as I thought but I’m still glad it’s over LMAO. After that I went to the gym to work out for about 30 mins, before heading home to go on a date. We walked around downtown and went bowling, to which he absolutely wiped the floor with me I fear. And then today in one of my classes we had a rock, paper, scissors tournament (gotta love college LOL) and…I WON! We did it a few times but I just kept winning or getting very close, so I was named the RPS champion ^-^

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[honeylikesfanfic]

Batting eyes

Lilia Vanrouge x reader

Most of Y/n's days were spent hiding in their cottage in the woods, as being a human wasn't fully welcomed in Briar Valley. Whenever Y/n had to enter Briar Valley, they would put on fake pointed ears to try to pass as one of them, and so far, they hadn't been noticed. 

One day, while walking through the woods to gather fruits from nearby trees and brush, Y/n found an injured bat. Feeling pity for the poor creature, they decided to take it home to patch it up. Y/n let the bat stay with them while it recovered, and everything was as normal as it could be for Y/n. However, one day something unexpected happened...

-

I woke up from my peaceful sleep and realized that the little bat I rescued was missing. There was a spot in my room where the injured bat used to rest and sleep. It was under the canopy at the top of my bed, which blocked the sun, even on the sunniest days. 

I thought, "Maybe he woke up early." I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and went to the kitchen, hoping I'd find the little guy there. I was also looking forward to making some breakfast. 

When I reached the kitchen, I noticed that my coffee maker had already made coffee, and it was still hot. I knew I hadn't made any coffee last night, so who did? The clock showed that it was 6:00 AM, which was earlier than my usual wake-up time.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, which I often called my reason to live. "It doesn't seem to be tampered with, so I guess it's safe to drink," I thought to myself. As I sipped my coffee, I realized that I was almost out of food, and I needed to head into town to buy more. The thought of wearing my heavy coat and fake ears made me groan inwardly. 

Suddenly, I heard the sound of my front door opening. I panicked, wondering how someone had found me. After all, no one should have known about my secret hiding place.

As I stumbled to find a place to hide, a man who was about the same height as me walked into the room. He had long, dark hair with a few reddish streaks that peeked through as his hair was pulled into a high ponytail. His crimson eyes scanned the room before they landed on my disheveled form. I probably looked pathetic sitting on the ground after I fell. I was wearing only a long black shirt, my cup of coffee had fallen with me, spilling on the floor.

"Who... Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

My attempt to sound assertive failed miserably as my voice cracked a bit. As the man stared down at me, almost as if he was as shocked as I was, I couldn't help but notice his pointed ears. Those pointed ears... He's a Fae!

My body instinctively reacted with either the urge to fight or flee. I jumped up from the wooden kitchen floor and rushed towards my dimly lit bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind me. I sprinted to the window, but the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching made me panic. Just as I reached the window, the door burst open, and I was forcefully dragged backward into the room.

“NO! PLEASE WA-”

“Shut up or you’ll attract the attention of the guards patrolling nearby.”

He put his right hand over my mouth, his left hand kept me close to him as we both lay on the floor. He glared at me as the sound of men walking and talking outside grew louder. Then he stood up, pulling me up with him. He dragged me over to my closet and sat me inside.

"I'll take care of this. Be silent," he said as he closed the closet doors.

I was left in the dark and cramped closet, wondering how he had found my cottage deep in the forest. It takes two hours to walk to the town, so how did those guards discover this place? Who was this man, and why wasn't he turning me in?

Sure the war between the Fae and humans was over, but living together wasn't easy. Only a few humans had managed to earn the trust of the Fae and live beside them without any issues.

Suddenly, muffled laughing broke my train of thought. I couldn't hear what was being said, but after a while, the two guards left—a few minutes passed before he returned to let me out of the closet.

The light shining through my window hurt my sensitive eyes as the man opened the wooden closet doors. "It's clear, don't start screaming again," he said and extended his hand to help me up. I accepted his offer cautiously, and as I inspected my arm, I noticed a red spot that looked like a burn and stung. I must have burnt my arm on my coffee when I fell. The man also noticed this and inspected it before leaving my room and guiding me over to the kitchen sink. He gently ran cool water over the burn.

"Stay here; I'll get the medkit," he said before leaving me by the sink. I wondered how he knew where the medkit was and who he was. He returned shortly after with a translucent plastic box in his hand and gently applied some antibiotic cream on the burn before wrapping it up.

"I... Who are you? Why are you helping me?" I asked him. He let out a short chuckle before finishing the wrap, pulling down his top collar to reveal bandages on his left shoulder.

"I am Lilia Vanrouge, also known as General Vanrouge," he said. I was surprised to hear that. Was I in trouble? "I am helping you because you helped me. Also, because I am the one who scared you, it's the least I can do."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Suddenly it all made sense. This man not only knew where my house was, but he also knew where the medical kit was. The bandages on his shoulder matched the ones I had used to wrap an injured bat. "Wait, were you the bat that I found injured in the forest?"

"Yes, I was," he confirmed. "Thank you for helping me. I had wanted to tell you about it today, but you woke up earlier than usual." He finished packing the medical kit and said, "I made you coffee this morning before I left. I was alerted that some guards had entered the fairy ring."

"I can't believe it! Did you put a fairy ring around my house?" I exclaimed in surprise. He smiled and raised an eyebrow as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, how else was I supposed to protect you and your home while I was injured?" he replied and walked away to store the kit. It suddenly dawned on me that he had been protecting me this whole time. I wondered how I had not noticed the fairy ring before. And then it hit me, "Wait... Did a Fae just give me his full name?!"

---

This was poorly written but lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear feedback!

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 12

Part 11

When morning came, Eddie was greeted with the sight of Steve still sleeping soundly. It was a sight he could get used to. And he was loathe to wake him up, but today would be busy for them all. Luckily, he had no need to. Like a flower to the sun, Steve turned to face him fully, stretching and yawning as he awakened on his own.

“Good morning, my lovely.”

Steve smiled, seemingly caught by surprise to be sweet talked so early in the morning. And if Eddie had his way, every morning would be like this from now on. Steve leaned in to kiss at his neck and they were able to spend just a few tender moments together before there was a pounding at their door. Steve sighed as Robin’s voice sounded on the other side, demanding that they be decent.

Eddie rushed to dress, feeling like a fox in the hen house right now. Steve remained in bed, knees pulled up to his chest. Robin could deal with him in a nightgown. 

“So how was your night?”, Robin asked when Eddie left.

“About as much fun as yours”, Steve said, eyeing the hickey on her neck.

The morning felt slow and short at the same time. There was a bustle in the town and they soon found that it was in preparation for a party at the castle. A masquerade party. 

“We’re getting into that party”, Eddie said over breakfast.

“A party? At the castle? Are you out of your peanut sized mind?”, Robin snarked.

“My um, my parents live and work in the castle”, Eddie explained. “That’s the best place to see that they’re good and healthy.” 

“Not that I doubt you”, Steve started. “But how exactly are we supposed to sneak into the castle?”

Eddie swallowed. He could just walk up to the palace gates, reveal himself as the prince, and they’d be granted access as easy as that. But there were two reasons he just couldn’t. For one, even with his father’s history, they might send his cohorts to the dungeon, including Steve. And he couldn’t put him through that. He wouldn’t. Eddie had promised him the finer things and that did not include shackles and bars.

He also just wasn’t ready for Steve to know. He knew it was a fantasy for some that their lover was secretly royalty. But was that true for Steve? What if he looked at him differently? He just…he had to prolong that confession for as long as possible. Maybe Steve would be happy about it when he saw what opulence being a prince came with.

“You leave the details up to me, my darling~”

Eddie would lie a thousand times if it got Steve to smile at him like that. Hopefully though, the lies would end after tonight. He sent Robin and Steve out to get a list of supplies. A fool’s errand but it couldn’t hurt to have some of those things. Meanwhile, Eddie brainstormed with his inner circle.

Robin watched as Steve hummed to himself while perusing the market. She hated to burst his morning after bliss but, well, it was nearly noon so…

“You know he’s lying right?”, Robin said. “About something.”

“I know. But so are we.” Steve sighed. “And our secret’s a lot bigger than his.”

“Hmm, debatable. What if his secret is that he’s impotent? Then what happens to your dream of a gaggle of pups?”

“You mean infertile? Because I can assure you based on last night-”

“Spare me! Spare me!”, Robin shouted, covering her ears.

“Don’t bring up topics that disgust you, sister.” Steve traded some coin for some fruit.

“Steve, before you hitch your wagon to this man, you should know all that he is. And he should know all of you too.”

“Why should he know?!”, Steve shouted before remembering they were in public. “Why should he know something that will never be important? Our royal blood doesn’t matter anymore, Robin.”

“Perhaps not now. But there’s already tension because you, and me, and the other prince are missing. If our return could ease things.”

“Our parents won’t go to war for us. Well, maybe for you, you were supposed to inherit the kingdom. You can go home Robin.”

“My home’s with you, I thought you understood that. So when you hitch that wagon to your Bandit Prince, I’m along for the ride.”

Steve smiled, happy to reaffirm that she would stay by his side. They passed a shop window and he could see their reflection. He looked so different. Gone was the royal omega, with hair that fell in waves down his back, over the luxurious fabric of fine dresses. Common omegas wore dresses too, but Steve had gone with trousers for ease of travel. He knew it was vain, but he couldn’t help but wish there was a way to return to the way he looked. 

They returned to the inn and Eddie let him in on the plan. Robin had many thoughts, but Steve elbowed her every time. She should have faith. He was the son of the Bandit King, after all. He was a professional at sneaking. And if he couldn’t trust the man who would one day be his alpha, then Eddie had some stepping up to do.

The plan began at sunset. Like most royal parties, there were festivities all day, but a lull for those in attendance to rest, refresh, and dress in their evening wear. Eddie took them near the castle wall. Rounding the bricks and finding a hidden entrance reminded Steve of how he and Robin would sneak out of their own castle. They all wore cloaks, hoods pulled tight over their heads.

“Gareth, Harold, secure our exit”, Eddie said, prompting them to break off. “The rest of you, with me.”

Eddie led Jeff, Robin, and Steve through a door, leading to the inner courtyard. And from there, another door that led to the servants quarters. Eddie’s shoulders sagged a bit before straightening up again.

“Jeff, take Steve and Robin to get dressed. Then come find me.”

Before he could take off, Steve grabbed his wrist. Eddie turned to face him. He pulled Steve close and caressed his cheek, then scented him.

“We will be together again soon. And then forever. I..I wish I had more time to teach you…”

“What?”, Steve chuckled. “Courtly ways?”

“Yes, well, my parents have been in the castle a long time, so I’ve picked up a thing or two but you…”

“I assure you, I can be quite regal”, Steve said. “I just wish we didn’t have to part. What if something happens?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Eddie kissed the back of his hands, then his forehead. Then he let Jeff lead the two siblings to the opposite end of the hall. Only once they were out of sight did Eddie remove his cloak. He still snuck around, there was no need to let the castle know he had returned yet. But the cloak would have just brought more attention while indoors.

Eddie was eventually able to get to his rooms and he trusted Jeff to lead Robin and his beloved to another room. One where they could complete the next phase of the plan: disguises.

Steve was surprised to see they had come to a room with dresses upon mannequins. And they all looked exquisite. But none so as lovely as the bridal gown. Steve could tell it was such. It had the most detail. White and golden details, with a frock of green. Steve longed to see if the embroidered embellishments were birds or butterflies, but he resisted. He knew in his heart, that must be Prince Stephen’s wedding dress. His wedding dress.

He turned away from it, giving his attention instead to one of the others in the room. They were all very pretty and Steve couldn’t believe he’d get to wear a royal wardrobe for one last night. The plan was to infiltrate the party. Eddie’s parents would be serving there. Once he met with them, made sure they were safe and okay, their business would be done.

Jeff left them to return to Eddie. There was clothing there for Robin and she began to strip right then and there while Steve went behind a room divider, decorated with flowers. He chose a dress of deep blue and white, going to the vanity after Robin helped him tie the back. He looked at his reflection, feeling that loss again.

“What has you so forlorn, dear brother?”, Robin asked, holding out her arm so that Steve could tie the laces of her sleeve. She had chosen yellow for herself.

“I…”, he sighed as he tied her up. “I’m not as…”

“If you’re about to say ‘as pretty’ when just last night you had that alpha drooling all over you!”

“But it’s true isn’t it?”

“All you did was chop off some hair-”

“And changed my clothing-”

“And yet you still entranced the Bandit Prince. Steve, he fell for you in a matter of days. He loves you. I wager he’d still love you even if you went bald”, she said before plucking a hair from his head, prompting him to swat at her.

“Stop it!”

“And he’ll love you when you start to wrinkle”, she pulled at his cheek. “Or when you have horrible flatulence-”

“You are the worst sister in the world! And I’m so glad to have you by my side.”

“Roommates until the end”, Robin smiled.

“Until the end”, Steve echoed, scenting her before putting on their masks.

------------------------------

Eddie was dressed in red, so deep it was almost like blood. His mask was the same, studded with rubies. Had this occurred normally, it would have done nothing to hide his identity. But since he had run, he was sure not even his parents would recognize him. They weren’t expecting him here tonight.

Everyone was in the ballroom, and they were able to enter the crowd with ease. Eddie knew Steve when he saw him. It wasn’t just that he was the only omega with short hair. It felt like the room parted for him. Steve walked like…like royalty. He moved like he belonged, smiling easily, almost flirtatiously as he made his way to Eddie.

Without even thinking, Eddie offered his arm. Steve took it just as reflexively.

“Have you found your parents yet?”

Eddie’s eyes glanced at the end of the room where the queen and her king sat. He shook his head. “Not yet. Shall we dance?” He didn’t give Steve a chance to answer before bringing him to the circle in the middle. He had done so to distract Steve from asking too many questions. But in turn, Eddie himself was distracted. By the twirl of Steve’s skirt, by his smile, by the sparkle of his eyes beneath the mask.

Even when Steve had to turn away during the dance, Eddie’s eyes followed him. Perhaps the flower and sun analogy would have been better reversed. Wherever Steve went, he was compelled to face. When that song ended, he pulled Steve to him, leading him to a table to eat.

“What do you think of what the good life has to offer?”, Eddie asked.

“That one could get used to it”, Steve said, eyeing Robin as she walked by, already chatting up a maiden. “But I am fine with less.”

“But..what if you didn’t have to settle for less?”

“What do you-”

A roar of fanfare cut him off and all eyes turned as the queen and king stood. The queen was beautiful, her hair was a mass of curls behind her crown, almost wild and untamed like a burst of auburn starlight. The king’s own hair was dark and cut short. They stepped down together but the queen continued to the center of the room.

“Tonight, is no mere revelry. While it is quite known how I love frivolity, there were other intentions for this celebration. You see, it is a homecoming.”

Steve could scent something coming off of Eddie, something like anxiety as the queen continued.

“For months, we have missed our dear prince. But finally, he has returned to us.” She looked in Eddie’s direction. “How long will you continue to hide?”

Steve’s head whipped around. Prince Edwin was here?! Now? What were the odd-wait, why was Eddie standing? He was on his feet and then he walked towards the queen. Once there, he removed his mask, prompting gasps from many in the room. Steve didn’t gasp. He had known what was under the mask. What he didn’t know was that there was a mask at all. His chest rose and fell. Eddie was…Eddie was Prince Edwin? Why?

Why, why, why?

He could pick up Robin’s scent. She had just arrived next to him and grabbed his hand. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of Eddie (no, not Eddie, Prince Edwin) as he stood next to the queen (no, his mother).

“Welcome home, son”, she smiled. That elicited applause, everyone welcoming him back as well. She turned to return to her husband, but Eddie stayed right where he was.

“I have not returned”, he said, bringing the room to silence, and then hushed murmurs.

“What do you mean?”, his mother asked, turning as the king came to stand by her.

“Why did you leave, son?”, he asked.

“I had my reasons. But none of them matter now”, Eddie began. “What matters is the reason I found while I was away. If I return, you would have me marry Prince Stephen.”

Steve’s heart thudded in his throat. Is that why Eddie had run away from home? Because he hadn’t wanted to marry him? Well he couldn’t be that offended, could he? He had run away for the same reason. And yet, it was different. He had reached out to Prince Edwin, had tried to get to know him. But Prince Edwin had ignored him at every turn.

“There is another I want to marry instead. Someone else I want to pledge myself to. He holds no titles, no lands, no prestige. But he has all of my heart”, Eddie said. Then he held a hand out. Towards Steve.

Robin tightened her hold on his hand, determined to keep him there, maybe even steal him away. He could feel her getting angry on his behalf. He patted her arm to placate her, needing to get a few answers for himself. He stood and began to walk towards Eddie.

“Why don’t you want to marry Prince Stephen?”, he asked.

Eddie flinched at that, his hand falling. He hadn’t expected that. “I…I don’t know him. Not like I know you.”

“But he’s your betrothed. Surely you tried to know him. Or he you?”, Steve urged.

“There were letters…”

“And?”

Eddie looked down before meeting Steve’s eyes again, still behind the mask. “It is an arranged marriage, decided by our parents. I knew any communication he sent would have been with the intention to make nice. Not genuine romance. I don’t want someone who was told to love me, told to care about me in order to please their parents.”

“What did you think would happen to the prince after you disappeared?”

“His fate is not in my hands. I only sought to change my own destiny. To be a true love. And perhaps give him a chance to do the same.”

“And what if you had allowed yourself to be known?”, Steve crossed his arms. “What if he fell for you of his own accord?”

Eddie grinned. “I’m not so easy to love.”

Steve finally stepped closer to him. “And yet you convinced me of it in such a short time. I wonder…how long it would have taken if you had responded to any of my letters.”

“Y…y-your-”

“Edwin, who is this?”, the king asked.

Steve removed his mask then. “My apologies, Your Majesties, for the deception. It is I, Prince Stephen.” He bowed before them. “I have come to claim my husband.”

Both the king and queen were rendered speechless. And the rest of the hall was just as silent. Robin was in the crowd, on her feet, ready to snatch Steve away and make a break for it just in case they decided he was a liar.

“Is this true, Edwin”, the queen asked.

Suddenly it all made sense to Eddie. The coincidental disappearance, the refusal to discuss his parents, the vague past and even more vague future plans, how he seemed so aristocratic despite claiming to be a commoner. Even the fact that he was on the road with his twin sister, just as there were twin royals!

“It’s all true”, Eddie said, his voice full of disbelief. “Every last word.” This time, when he offered his hand, Steve accepted it. He felt a warmth throughout his entire body.

The queen cleared her throat. “If I am understanding this correctly, you ran from home because you did not wish to fulfill the arrangement between you and Prince Stephen. Now you have returned home and you intend to marry him?”

Eddie had the decency to get bashful and blush. Steve did the same, hiding his smile behind his hand. Both royal parents sighed and shook their heads. Then the king clapped his hands.

“It sounds to me we have something to celebrate after all! Tonight we feast in honor of my son and his renewed engagement!”

There were cheers all around at that and the music began again. Jeff, remembering Gareth and Harold, sent for them. There was no longer any need to secure a getaway. Steve and Eddie danced the night away, barely taking their eyes or hands off of each other. Which was all fine and dandy until they had to part for bed. There would be no more nighttime trysts.

The only low point was when Steve and Robin’s parents came to confirm their children were indeed at this castle. They’d taken turns admonishing them both, taking up about half the day to do so. But on the bright side, it prompted them to begin the wedding arrangements immediately, lest their children do something foolish again.

When Steve met Eddie at the altar, dressed in his bridal gown, it felt like a dream come true. Eddie’s eyes twinkled with tears of happiness.

“Your beauty rivals that of the brightest stars.”

“And just think, you could have known sooner, had you responded to my letters.”

“That shall stain your impression of me forever, won’t it?”

“Perhaps. Ask me again after we’ve had our first pup. Or perhaps the third or fourth.”

“As my love commands~”

It didn’t take long for Steve’s belly to grow round, nor for the people of this kingdom to spread the rumor of how the two princes came to meet. It had twisted and turned that there were about five different versions people told, just in the surrounding area. Go even further out and the story became even more muddled. 

But the core remained the same. That their love was true. That they would have given up not just one kingdom, but two. But as fate would have it, the only thing they had to relinquish was their hearts. And they had given it to someone who would treasure it above the most valuable of crown jewels.

And all they had to do was run away to each other.

END

Thank yall for joinin' me on this one :) Hope to see you for more in 2025!

[luvashli]

Synopsis -> you are pulled into a mysterious mansion where seven men are bound by a dark pact. As you navigates their secrets, desires, and emotional turmoil, you must decide whether to break free or embrace your dangerous connection with them all, uncovering love and sacrifice along the way.

20 -> A Breath Stolen

The first light of dawn filtered into the chamber, spilling across the cold stone altar and the broken circle of seven shattered souls. The boys were motionless, their hands still resting on your lifeless form. The air was heavy with grief, the silence oppressive.

They had tried. They had believed. And still, it seemed, they had failed.

Jungwon was the first to speak, his voice low and trembling. “She’s really gone.” His words barely carried in the vast, hollow chamber.

Sunghoon’s hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t trust himself to say anything. If he opened his mouth, he was certain it would be a scream.

Sunoo was sobbing quietly, his shoulders shaking with the force of his grief. “She believed in us,” he whispered through the tears. “She gave everything for us. And now—” He choked on the words, unable to finish.

Jake who stood now apart from the others, staring at the floor as tears dripped down his face. His fists were bloodied, his nails digging into his palms as anger and despair warred within him. “Why?” he said through gritted teeth. “Why would she do this?”

Jay’s voice was hollow, devoid of its usual confidence. “Because she believed,” he murmured. “Even when we didn’t deserve it, she believed in us.”

“She shouldn’t have had to die for us,” Ni-ki said, his voice a fragile whisper. He had collapsed to his knees, unable to tear his gaze away from your still face.

But then, like a fragile thread pulled taut, the silence broke.

A shallow, broken gasp.

The sound froze all of them in place.

Another faint breath, followed by the slow, hesitant rise of your chest.

“Wait—” Sunghoon moved first, rushing to your side, his trembling hands hovering over you. “She’s—she’s breathing.”

Jungwon’s breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his voice cracking. “Y/N?”

Your eyes fluttered open, but they didn’t hold the clarity they once had. You looked at them, your gaze soft and searching, but something was missing.

“She’s alive,” Jake breathed, his knees giving out as he dropped beside you. “She came back to us.”

The relief was instant, a tidal wave of emotion crashing over all of them. Sunoo sobbed openly now, clutching your hand like a lifeline.

“Y/N, say something,” Heeseung urged, his voice trembling. His hand cupped your cheek, desperate for any sign of the warmth and vitality they knew.

But you didn’t respond. Your lips parted, your throat worked to speak, but no sound came.

“Y/N?” Jay’s voice wavered as realization began to dawn.

You touched your throat, the action slow and deliberate, as if confirming what you already knew. Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at them, your lips trembling in a silent apology.

“No,” Sunghoon whispered, his eyes wide with dawning horror. “No, no, no. This isn’t fair.”

“You can’t talk,” Ni-ki said, his voice breaking. “Your voice… the pact took it.”

The boys stared at you, devastated, as the weight of this new reality sank in. The pact had been broken, but not without a price.

Jungwon covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to come back. Whole. Whole.”

Sunoo cradled your hand against his cheek, his tears falling onto your skin. “You shouldn’t have done it,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have taken this on yourself.”

You squeezed his hand, your touch as gentle as your gaze. Your lips moved again, silently mouthing words that none of them could hear. But the look in your eyes said everything.

It was worth it.

Jake pressed his forehead against your arm, tears streaming freely down his face. “How can you say that?” he whispered hoarsely. “How can you think this was worth it?”

Because you were alive. Because they were free.

Even without your voice, you found ways to show them. A touch, a glance, the way your lips turned up ever so slightly when your eyes met theirs.

But the pain in their hearts didn’t lessen.

“We should’ve stopped her,” Jay said, his voice thick with regret. “We should’ve been stronger.”

You shook your head slowly, your gaze soft but firm. You didn’t regret what you had done, and you needed them to understand that.

“She trusted us,” Heeseung murmured, his voice barely audible. “And we need to trust her too.”

Your hand slipped into his, and for a moment, the room was quiet again.

The curse was gone. The bonds forged through the pact were now something else—something freer, built on love rather than obligation.

But the loss of your voice was a reminder that freedom had come at a cost.

As the sun climbed higher, its golden light flooding the chamber, the boys began to pull themselves together, though the grief and guilt still weighed heavily on their hearts.

You were alive.

But the question that none of them dared to ask hung heavy in the air: What comes next?

The days following the sacrifice were unlike any that had come before. The mansion, once suffocating under the weight of the pact, now felt strangely quiet—peaceful, even. But the absence of the pact’s oppressive presence only served to highlight the tension that remained.

The boys had barely left your side since that night, each of them grappling with their own feelings of relief, guilt, and heartbreak. You were alive, but your silence echoed louder than any words could.

Heeseung was always the first to appear in the mornings. He’d bring you tea, a soft smile on his face, though his eyes betrayed the weight he carried.

“You shouldn’t have had to do it,” he said one morning, his voice low as he set the cup on the bedside table. He hesitated before sitting beside you, his hand brushing yours. “You trusted us to be strong enough, but we weren’t. I wasn’t.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. Your eyes said what you couldn’t: It wasn’t your fault.

Heeseung’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that trust wasn’t misplaced.”

Sunghoon couldn’t meet your gaze for days. He lingered in the shadows, watching over you but never coming too close. When he finally approached, it was in the middle of the night, when the mansion was dark and quiet.

“I wanted to stop you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I should’ve fought harder, done something, anything.”

You shook your head, your hand finding his in the dim light. The way you looked at him—calm, reassuring—only made his chest ache more.

“You’re too forgiving,” he muttered, a bitter smile on his lips. “How do you do that? How can you still look at us like that after what we let happen to you?”

You touched his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered. “From now on, no matter what, I’ll protect you.”

Sunoo was the most expressive in his guilt. He stayed close to you, always trying to make you smile, to draw your attention away from the pain.

But one afternoon, when the two of you were alone in the garden, his mask cracked.

“I hated seeing you like that,” he blurted out, his voice trembling. “You lying there, lifeless… I thought we lost you forever.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, your eyes soft but firm. I’m here, they seemed to say.

“It’s not enough,” he said, tears pooling in his eyes. “You lost so much because of us, Y/N. How can we ever make it right?”

You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. Slowly, you raised it to your lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. It wasn’t forgiveness—you didn’t need to forgive them. It was understanding.

Sunoo broke into a watery smile, though the tears still fell. “You’re too good for us,” he said, laughing weakly. “Way too good for us.”

Jake threw himself into caring for you. Whether it was helping you move around, bringing you meals, or simply sitting beside you in silence, he made sure you were never alone.

But you noticed the way his hands trembled when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his voice caught whenever he said your name.

One evening, as he sat beside your bed, he finally broke.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I also didn’t want you to do it. I didn’t want you to sacrifice yourself for us.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. His grip tightened as if afraid you might disappear again.

“I swear I’ll make this up to you,” he said, his eyes burning with determination. “No matter how long it takes, I’ll prove that we deserved your love.”

Jungwon was quieter than usual, his usually sharp and commanding presence softened by the weight of his emotions. He hovered around you, watching over you like a silent guardian.

When he finally spoke, it was late at night, the two of you sitting in the library.

“You trusted us,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Even when we didn’t trust ourselves. And you were right—we couldn’t do it. We couldn’t take that final step.”

You touched his arm, your gaze steady.

“But you still did it,” he said, his voice breaking. “You still took that step, even though you didn’t have to.”

You shook your head, your expression firm. I had to.

Jungwon stared at you for a long moment before leaning forward, his forehead resting against yours. “We’ll do better,” he promised. “I’ll do better.”

Jay avoided you for days, his guilt too overwhelming to face you. When he finally came to see you, it was with a bouquet of flowers in hand, his usual confidence replaced with hesitation.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, setting the flowers on the table beside you. “I’ve never felt so useless in my life.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

Jay laughed weakly. “Okay, maybe I’ve always been a little useless,” he said. “But this is different.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Jay sobered, his gaze locking onto yours. “You gave up so much for us,” he said. “More than we deserved. But I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret it.”

Ni-ki stayed close but said little, his usually sharp tongue dulled by the weight of what had happened. He hovered near you like a shadow, watching over you but never knowing what to say.

One night, as the two of you sat by the fire, he finally spoke.

“I hated it,” he said, his voice low. “Seeing you like that, knowing it was because of us. I hated it so much I couldn’t even think straight.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing his.

“I thought we’d lose you forever,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “And I still don’t know if I deserve to have you back.”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze steady. You do, your eyes seemed to say.

Ni-ki looked at you, his eyes glistening. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

You nodded, your lips curving into a small, reassuring smile.

The boys had each found their own ways to cope, but the pain lingered. Your silence was a constant reminder of the price that had been paid, and while they were grateful for your life, the absence of your voice was a loss they felt deeply.

But despite the sorrow, there was a quiet determination in each of them. They would honor your sacrifice by becoming the people you had believed they could be.

And though you couldn’t say it, your presence, your touch, your smile—all of it told them the same thing: You’re worth it.

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Note: only one chapter left :( thank you for reading

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@d-dilemma @laylasbunbunny @b3tt7boop @parkjjongswifey

[sophora-writes]

I will always love you! (George Weasley x Reader)

Writer’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my first ever post and I am new to Tumblr so sorry if it’s not great, I am still learning so any kind feedback would be deeply appreciated! Thank you so much for reading btw! <3

Warnings: Mentions of drowning (not actual drowning).

Summary: George and y/n are the perfect match as both of them are major pranksters constantly trying to outdo the other and their relationship is all the stronger for it.

Genre: Fluff

I hope you enjoy!

It was no secret that Fred and George Weasley were the funniest duo and best pranksters of Hogwarts. Everyone knew who they were, it was kind of impossible not to. So naturally, they attracted a large group of female admirers although most of these went after the elder and more outgoing of the twins: Fred. This often left George alone and isolated only adding to his many insecurities about him being inferior to his elder twin. However this all changed when he met his soulmate y/n. Y/n was his best friend as well as his partner, she was his everything. Y/n matched his energy and was always laughing and smiling with her sparkling e/c eyes and loved him for him, not just his comedic act. The most important thing though, was that y/n was a prankster just like George although y/n preferred traditional non magical pranks being a muggle born and all. They would battle back and forth trying constantly to outdo the other. This started when y/n put a whoopie cushion on George’s chair after only 2 months of dating so that when she saved him a seat next to her in class (after he was already 5 minutes late to the lesson) he would hurriedly rush to sit down on his chair only to realise that y/n had started a never ending prank war. “20 points from Gryffindor Mr Weasley” Professor McGonagall sighed clearly tired of teaching before the lesson had even begun. “But Professor that wasn’t..” George tried to protest but to no avail, “Save it Mr Weasley or I shall see you in a lunchtime detention and I’m sure we would both rather be spared that pain now wouldn’t we!” The whole class then sniggered as George whispered to y/n that this was not over and he was going to get her back good. So that’s how y/n ended up with the air being rushed from her lungs as George pushed her into the lake on a warm summers day around 2 years after that first incident had occurred. “George Gideon Weasley” you barley managed to shout out before you had connected head first with the freezing cold water of the lake. As you broke the surface coughing and spluttering, gasping for breath you heard the howling laughter of your boyfriend clutching his stomach as he was wiping away real tears from his eyes. He thought this was funny did he? You thought angrily, well we’ll see how he likes it in here himself, you thought a wicked smirk slowly forming on your face as you thought of a cunning plan. “Georgie, Georgie help! Help me! Help me Georgie I can’t swim!” You screamed at the top of your lungs feigning a distraught look upon your face. George instantly paled and immediately sprung into action. “Oh my god y/n I’m so sorry I didn’t realise I…” he spluttered “George just help me for Christ’s sake!” You screamed louder violently thrashing your arms through the water. “Hang on n/n!” George cried rushing to the nearest side of the lake to you, “Here, grab my hand” Bingo you thought as you grabbed his hand and yanked him with your entire strength into the lake along side you! Now it was your turn to laugh as George emerged looking like a startled kitten. “Gotcha!” You cackled as his shock turned into anger and then finally into laughter along side yours. “Well done n/n! You really got me!” George said in between fits of laughter, “but don’t you worry, I’ll get you back sooner on later!” “Don’t worry Georgie, I know, that’s why I will always love you!” You stated shyly unsure how he would react. “And I will always love you too y/n” George whispered softly before he slowly pulled you against him and delicately placed his lips against yours.

The End! I hope you guys enjoyed and again any feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

[m-jelly]

Hi, Miss Jelly!!! Sorry it took a while for me to reply, huhu. I'm the one who requested the Pacific Rim inspired one. It's totally alright, I understand! Basically, Pacific Rim is like the cadets, and soldiers control a big robot from the inside.

I'd really love one with an Earth based, and since they have suit armors and advanced tech already, it'll be awesome if the titans evolve into something alien like, you know? Hehe. I think it would be fun to have levi and the reader in a secret relationship, but since he's always head over heels for them, he'd be all smug , heart eyes and all when reader does badass things.

Honestly, that's all I ask hehe. Just have fun with writing it, Miss Jelly. You can add whatever you wish if you want. Just wanna see Levi adore reader so much 🥹. Thank you so much! 🫶🩷🎀

Lovable strength.

Levi x fem!reader

Future AU, romance, action, being a couple, fighting, armour, tech, love.

Earth is fighting off an invasion from the Titan alien race. At the front of an elite insane team is Captain Levi and his Lieutenant, you. While you're leading the charge, behind the scenes the two of you are deeply romantically involved with each other.

Tag list below the cut

"This land will be red with the blood of human scum! This is our planet! Our land! Those rats who hide will be dragged out, publicly executed and used for our amusement!" His voice rang and echoed over the war-torn land. A wide smirk spread over his cracked lips as his soldiers screamed in praise. He knew he had to continue. "My Titans!"

"Tch." Levi pressed his earpiece as he spoke to you, his lover, on a private channel. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

A sweet laugh came from you. "Come on now, my love, you know very well he won't stop."

He shifted in his full-bodied tight armour, the groves and joints moving with him. "He's a fucking dumbass. He has no clue we have him surrounded."

"That's why this is so funny."

He huffed as he felt frustrated. "I want to be with you."

"I can fix this."

"How?"

You hummed a laugh. "Watch, my love."

Levi watched the leader yapping on further, but something sparkled in the light of the sun. Levi shifted his head and tapped his helmet so he could see a bit better. "I'm watching."

His eyes widened when he saw a flash of colour go right past him. The leader stopped talking as a body, Levi loved exploring at every opportunity, flew right by the leader. No words came from the man, his eyes rolled back, his knees slammed to the floor and his head slid from his neck and dropped to the floor.

You had cut his head clean off.

Levi felt an uncontrollable rush of arousal inside him. It was like watching a killer angel in battle. As soon as you flew past and the Titans began to panic, your body twisted up in the air allowing you to look down. Little objects flew from you. Crackles and speaks snapped through the still air and a rain of explosions began.

Levi smirked. "I fucking love that woman." He rose to his feet. "Attack!"

The Titans who survived the blasts watched in pure horror as armoured soldiers launched up into the air showing they were surrounded. All soldiers wore armour and on their full-bodied armour stood proudly the symbol that terrified the Titans.

The wings of freedom.

The most insane, crazy, dangerous, skilled and suicidal humans were here and no one was getting out alive unless they wanted it. Screams of pure fear and horror ripped through the sky. Titans fell before they could even reach their massive mech machines. They had lost before the battle had even begun. Their leader was dead and their supplies were destroyed.

Their leader was wrong. Humans were a fearful race with a drive to survive and fight that was so strong that it was pure insanity.

A wide grin spread on your face, you enjoyed this too much and being able to fight for your planet alongside your lover was a dream. Your blades ripped and tore through Titans as they screamed and begged for mercy. There was no mercy for them, not after what they did, not after the slaves they took or the blood they farmed for their machines to run.

No one was getting out alive.

With a flick of your body, you fired your jets on your suit and launched forwards. Now with your blades on your back again, you ripped your guns off your thighs and began firing. As your agile body twisted and turned in the summer sun, victory was clearly on the horizon.

Little bots floated around you and Levi showing the powerful winged leaders who would bring victory to the human race. Projected to almost every screen on the planet, people watched as you and Levi used your jets on your suits to move and looked like you were dancing together around the battlefield.

The two of you met together before stopping your jets. You free fell together towards the ground. With eyes locked onto each other through your helmets, there was an unspoken love between the two of you. As the ground grew closer and your love stronger, you fired your jets, twisted your bodies and shot the last Titans together before landing on the stage where the leader once stood.

You panted next to Levi as you admired the land around you. You released a long sigh. "Well, do you wanna do the honours and raise the flag?"

Levi pulled the baton off his lower back and held it up high. "Thank you." He pressed the release button causing the baton to turn into a massive pole with a flag on the end. "Our wings of freedom win again." He slammed it into the ground so all could see.

You hummed a laugh. "That was hot." You laughed as he looked over at you. "Don't worry, we're on a private channel still. The things I'm going to do to you tonight."

"I can't wait." He released a long sigh. "You know, what you did was incredibly dangerous."

"I know."

"Well?"

You folded your arms. "Well, what? We needed to get rid of him. He was annoying you with all his yapping, so I took care of him for you. Besides, those Titans panic and disperse when their leaders are killed. They're nothing without them."

"You're right." He pouted. "I just...I worry about you."

You reached over and held his pinkie. "I understand."

"I love you."

You squeezed his pinkie. "I love you so much." You shifted on the spot. "Wanna find somewhere private and make out?"

Levi perked up. "Yes please!"

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08

@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously

[rebeccasteventaylor]

Right - now we’re in London so part 3 of the next part of ‘what ship can I find I haven’t found before in my endless watching of rogue nation’ posts

(It’s not shippy but considering how many times we change prime minister and how very dodgy many of them are, entrusting them with a secret like this is - not a good idea)

- Benji doesn’t have to explain anything to Ethan. Brandt needs to be told what a ‘red box’ is but Ethan already knows as much as Benji does. They must spend hours talking.

- and Benji - the only British person there - is backing Ethan’s plan not to tell MI6 about kidnapping the PM. He backs Ethan all the way.

(Which cemetery is that? Is that Mortlake?)

- I think it’s at this point Lane decides to take Benji. Interesting he doesn’t use Ilsa, who he already has in his power. Goes for Benji instead.

- Damn - the only one not in Ethan’s sightline at the station is Benji. Maybe he thought, given the way Benji constantly chatters over the comms, he doesn’t need to see him when he can hear him? I don’t think it’s a mistake he makes again - when he’s with Benji in the field, he keeps him in sight (of course, he can’t always be with Benji…)

- the evil look Benji shoots Ilsa when he says ‘that’s her…’ (odd to think how close they end up being)

- although - looking at it now - it’s Ilsa who decides where to sit and places Ethan with his back to Benji. I wonder - not that she knew he’d be taken, but Benji in Ethan’s sightline would be a distraction from Ilsa

- ooh - Ethan saying ‘that’s all we’re going to say about it’ echoing Benji saying ‘and that’s all we’re going to say about that’. He DOES pick up Benji’s speech patterns!

- when Ilsa says ‘it’s only a matter of going’ Ethan turns his head towards Benji- he can’t see benji from that angle but there is an awareness that he is there - listening…and then Ethan decides not to go..

- Benji is there right up until the moment Ilsa puts the phone on the table. Taking Benji is very fast.

AND NOW - THE ANGST

- Ethan doesn’t hesitate for an instant when Lane calls. Just ‘i accept’ right away. No bargaining, no conditions.

- kidnapping the PM? Fine. Ethan has a plan but from now on, no matter what else happens, his constant repetition is not ‘we can stop Lane’ but ‘we will get Benji back’. Even Brandt sees it ‘we do want we have to do for our friends’. Lane isn’t the focus any more - Benji is (speaking as a British person, I am perfectly happy with kidnapping the PM to save Benji. Keep him for all I care)

- I have never seen Ethan look so shattered, so broken. He looks so quiet when he says ‘I can’t see another way’ he’s normally so vital and alive but with Benji gone - there’s nothing left of him.

- Benji knows right away - sees the components of the bomb on the table and knows what they’re going to do. He must have been so worried for Ethan

- basically Ethan is pretty much risking starting a war to get Benji back…

- that Kipling quote is very applicable to Ethan

- the desperation in Ethan’s entire body and face as he hurtles out of the car and rushes to the laptop. Once again, his sole motivation is not stopping Lane, but saving Benji. Luther has to remind him it’s about Lane

- Ethan picked the highest price on that screen to offer for Benji’s return

- I will never get over the way Ethan leans forward a little, trying to see Benji’s face, puzzled why he won’t turn around, as he walks up to him (reminds me of the way Ethan leaned over the balcony to see Benji at the opera)

- the look he shoots at Ilsa when she says ‘careful’ as if he’s annoyed - he doesn’t need reminding to be careful with Benji

- his hand lingers on Benji’s jacket as he uncovers the bomb and looks around. He doesn’t flinch away or even think about running. He’ll stay right where he is, in front of the bomb and Benji

- it’s the constant repetition - let Benji go. Ethan offers money - the disk - himself - he offers to be tortured by Vinter and all the time it’s the same price - Let Benji Go

- Ethan watches Benji leave. He must be thinking this could be the last time he sees Benji. His plan is insane; it shouldn’t work

- Ethan is really vicious when he beats up Lane’s men. Normally when Ethan fights it’s practical - he does as much as needs to to survive or win. But them - he really beats them hard, more than he needs to. He wants to punish them for taking Benji.

- it’s the same with Lane - Ethan really enjoys knocking that box over.

Ooh - have just noticed…after he knocks over Lane’s box - Ethan looks past the box - to the side - to where Benji is - I think he’s looking at Benji…

- Benji switches on the gas, at Ethan’s nod. He switches on the lights, again at Ethan’s nod. He locks Lane in the van. He drives the van. I don’t know how much of it is Ethan’s plan, but it all gives power back to Benji.

And that’s it! I love this movie. And gave myself a couple of ideas for possible fics…

[bisclavret]

hello I'm thinking about that gifset you did. yaoi cocaine. whatever it was. with gwaine and merlin having figured each other out. and gwaine looking betrayed while merlin looks elated is SO IMPORTANT TO ME YOU DON'T EVEN GET IT.

GWAINE USES HAVING MERLIN FIGURED OUT TO BRING HIM JOY. MERLIN USES HAVING GWAINE FIGURED OUT TO HURT HIM.

fuckkkk it just. you can sort of see it with how they distance themselves too and what their relationship looks like in s4 & 5. ESPECIALLY 5 bc at the end of the season merlin uses his knowledge of gwaine (that gwaine cares about him and would risk his life for him without hesitation) to hurt him (not being honest with him about his magic or allowing him to help get it back) LIKE OH MY GOD. THEY HAVE EACH OTHER FIGURED OUT. MERLIN KNOWS IT'LL HURT GWAINE IF HE DOESN'T TELL HIM THINGS BUT HE ALSO KNOWS GWAINE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR HIM AND I JUST. AUGH. I THINK THAT SHOULD BE EXPLORED MORE BC LATER SEASONS MERWAINE TOXIC YAOI IS EVERYTHING TO ME

oh im so glad you picked up on that too! theyre literally ideological foils to each other in that episode: even as they bond over some shared values and trauma (and attraction), the key conflict between them is that gwaine's life experiences have made him a staunch anti-royalist while merlin is prophecy-pilled into believing he lucked out with "the good ones". from the moment merlin learns gwaine's dad was a knight he relentlessly uses this fact to convert gwaine back to catholicism nobility so he can stick around as a knight of camelot, which merlin rationalizes as a kindness because gwaine seems lonely and leads a dangerous life.

but the way gwaine reacts to merlin's attempts at persuasion is conflicted and suspicious because "what's this guy's agenda?" and i don't think that ever fully lets up. even as gwaine concedes that arthur is one of "the good ones" i do believe it's just for merlin's sake because there are no "good ones" in a class war lol he sees how rooted merlin is in his beliefs (not to mention the repressed sexuality) and wants to reassure him that even though he's in no rush to join him, he's not judging him either. and merlin is relieved and happy with this outcome because gwaine kindly didn't call him out on the homosexuality and he stopped trying to threaten his beliefs. that whole episode is the equivalent of being a leftist on a dating app in 2022 wondering how low you'd stoop for a cute british twink that's unironically mourning queen elizabeth. but i digress.

merwaine is toxic yaoi to ME because not only does it start with them butting heads ideologically, merlin's ideology WINS and gwaine abandons everything he stood for to become a knight in the hopes of finding love and community. and then of course by the time s4 and s5 roll in there is so much grief and shame and fanaticism in merlin that he refuses to indulge, refuses to go off-script and allow gwaine to be anything except a tool and a weapon. which is obviously not the vibe gwaine was getting off of merlin in s3, but by his last episode he's surrendered himself to the reality that that's all merlin allows himself to want from him to the point where after merlin rejects him one last time he literally gives him his sword and lets him walk away. grim!

then again, they're both complicit in making each other feel worse! gwaine sounds like he already has some mistrust of magic when we first meet him, and by s5 he's parroting camelot-isms about magic, "you are a sorcerer and a heretic", and killing sorcerers who did nothing. and then merlin quietly marks their grave and keeps repeating to himself that "it'll get better one day" while refusing to listen to anyone who has any criticism whatsoever.

and to circle back to the point of "they figured each other out": THAT'S WHY IT'S SO POTENT. TO ME. merlin knows that gwaine loves him best of all but whenever gwaine tries to act on his love merlin recoils because of catholic fanaticism he's convinced everyone he shares his secrets with will die. the repression is off the charts. and gwaine resents repression but he's forced to abide by it because he's disarmed by merlin's apparent selflessness and bravery (and the fact that merlin gets to live a life of adventure and self righteous fighting while not actually being a noble - that's literally gwaine's dream!) but i simply cannot look at gwaine in honestly ANY of the seasons he's in and go "oh he doesn't mind :) he just wants to be involved!" the man practically died of a broken heart. merlin broke his heart. and gwaine let him, he was also an active participant! i like to overanalyze eoin's acting decisions and try and pinpoint moments where he bites his tongue lest he says something that goes against merlin's (and the show's) ideology that will cost him his place. which is not unlike hiding a secret identity if you think about it

[captainsophiestark]

Star-Crossed Agents

Grant Ward x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Grant's SO is part of SciTech, which means they have to sneak around a little bit to hang out, and with the end of their Academy careers approaching it's harder than ever to find time for each other

Word Count: 1,485

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I took a deep breath in and then let it out, slow and heavy in a massive sigh. I'd been staring at my laptop for what felt like an eternity, and I was about to truly and completely lose it.

I snapped out of my thousand yard stare at the screen two feet in front of me at the sound of my dorm window sliding open. I shot up from my desk and whirled around only to find my boyfriend, Grant Ward, hanging out of my window.

"You gave me a heart attack," I said by way of hello as I rushed to the window to help him the rest of the way through. He had takeout containers in one hand, which I immediately took to make sure he wouldn't drop them. I turned to set them on my desk, and by the time I returned to Grant, he'd made it all the way through my window and stood in the middle of my room with his hands on his hips.

"Really? You went for the food before me?"

I just shrugged and grinned at him. "You're a Specialist in the top of your class. I figured you'd be able to handle it, especially since you've done it a thousand times before."

He sighed, but didn't waste another second before crossing the room to kiss me either. His arms wound their way around my waist as he pulled me to him, and I brushed one hand against his cheek before gently pulling back.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I don't think I'm gonna be a very good date tonight. Between trying to finish out the SciTech-Ops prank war and my final thesis project being due in just a few months, I'm probably going to have to mostly do work tonight."

"I don't mind helping you with SciTech pranks, if that's what you're working on," said Grant as we walked to my desk together, sitting shoulder to shoulder. "Why don't you open up your notes on that, and let me see all the things you have planned."

I scoffed. "I thought Specialists were supposed to be better at getting information out of people than that."

Grant fixed me with a look and put his hands on the arms of my chair, slowly leaning in until his face was inches from mine, effectively pinning me to the spot.

"I bet I could get you to give up some secrets if I tried."

I leaned in, closing the distance between us until our lips were barely a hair's breadth apart. Then I smiled.

"Nice try, but I'm already betraying my entire school by dating you. No way I'm giving the Ops kids an edge in the prank war. And no way I'm letting you distract me, either, I have work to do."

Grant sighed, but when he leaned in for a kiss it was just a quick peck before he sat back in his own chair.

"Fine. We don't really need your help to win, anyway. We've got this in the bag."

"Mhmm. And you just keep telling yourself that, Superspy."

Grant and I shared a grin as he dished up our food and I reluctantly turned back to my laptop. Leaning against Grant and having him here, especially with some of my favorite food, made trying to work less frustrating. But it didn't magically spark any inspiration or ideas like I'd hoped it would.

After we finished dinner, Grant crossed the room to kick back on my bed and cracked open a book while I kept trying to make my brain work. I stared at the computer screen, just trying to get some kind of brainstorm to start. I felt a headache coming on with every passing moment, and my brain started to feel literally heavy, like thick fog was just sitting up there, weighing me down. My eyes squinted against the glare of the screen, and still I didn't move, scanning over my notes like they might magically add some insight that they hadn't before.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder, then turned with bleary eyes to find Grant had returned to sit next to me, a worried expression on his face.

"Are you alright? You were starting to look like a zombie over here."

"Yeah, yeah, just... waiting for inspiration to strike."

"...And how's that going?"

"Uh. Not well."

Grant huffed a laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile as he pulled me a little closer to his side.

"Then I think it's time we take a break together."

I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder. Truly all I wanted to do was spend time with him, without anything SHIELD-related hanging over our heads, but final tests were coming soon and I really didn't have a moment to spare.

"I don't think I can, Grant. Everything I've been working for since the day I got here all comes down to this project. I have to make sure it's perfect."

"Right now you're not going to be able to make anything perfect."

I pulled back, mouth dropping open as I glared at him, but he just stared right back with the frank appraisal of a Specialist that I both loved and hated.

"Your brain is clearly fried from working on this for too long. Anything you put down now is just going to be something you have to go back and fix later. I've seen it before, from new Ops recruits and from you. You need a break. If you take one, odds are you're going to have a much easier time brainstorming and working things through after you spend some time not thinking about this project. It'll be faster and better than anything you might manage to force out now."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That... actually kind of makes sense..."

"I know it does. It's because I'm right." I scoffed, but Grant ignored it, instead leaning forward and resting a hand on my thigh. "Besides, the next month or so is going to be hell for both of us. Between your final projects and all of my practical exams before we graduate... I'm barely going to have time to see you. So we should enjoy the time we have now, while we still can."

I sighed, leaning forward and raising one hand to rest at the nape of Grant's neck, gently touching my forehead to his.

"I don't like to think about that," I admitted. "Or about how much harder it's going to be to stay together when you're out in the field and I'm in the Hub or the Triskelion doing work."

"I know. I hate thinking about that too."

We fell into silence for a few moments, the uncertainty of both of our futures hanging over us. Grant's grip on me tightened slightly, and I sighed. He was right. I needed a break, and I needed to enjoy every moment I could get while it was just the two of us like this.

"You know what? I think we'll be fine," I said, straightening up enough to meet Grant's eyes. "If we can make it work as two people from rival SHIELD schools dating each other? Like a more intense version of Romeo and Juliet? Then I think we're gonna be just fine, no matter what the rest of the world tries to throw at us."

"...You know Romeo and Juliet ended pretty badly for both of them-"

"I know! I was just trying to make a point, we're from aggressively rival groups and we're finding love anyway. Just... ignore the ending."

Grant chuckled. "Alright. So does this mean you're going to take a break with me?"

"Yes, it does. Come on, let's watch some terrible tv and eat the chocolate I keep in the bottom drawer of my desk for emergencies and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist."

Grant smiled, catching my chin before I could move away and pulling me back to him for a long, deep kiss. When we finally broke apart, I was breathing hard and grinning like an idiot at the man before me. I really, really loved him, even though when he finally spoke he said:

"Anything but Love Island."

"What! Grant, come on. We were almost done with the last season! We have to get caught up before the new one starts."

"No way. I'll watch anything but that."

"...Anything?"

He sighed. "This is gonna be a long night, isn't it?"

I just grinned at him. It was fun to give him a hard time, but at the end of the day, I was happy doing anything as long as I got to do it with him. And I knew he felt exactly the same way. We'd make it work, from picking a tv show tonight to whatever our futures might have in store for us after this.

*****************

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