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betweenstorms · 2 months ago

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Part Two of Where We Part (previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist) Childhood Friend!Simon x fem!Reader

Time has a funny way of slipping through your fingers, doesn’t it?

The years passed as they do, quietly, relentlessly and somehow, unintentionally you followed Simon Riley’s advice, no matter how much it stung during that particular summer night.

You grew older, wiser, or at least you hoped you did.

At the end of that warm, suburban summer, you left Manchester behind, moved to London for university, found yourself caught up in the complexity of adulthood, chasing dreams, making mistakes, falling in love, losing it. You lived your life, embraced its peaks and valleys, and let it sweep you along. Some days were golden, like those late summer days in your twenties when laughter was easy, love felt endless, and the world seemed filled with promise. You travelled with your new friends from university, gelato dripping down your wrist as you laughed under the bright Sicilian sun, the loud conversation with your girls echoing across the cobblestone streets. You invited your parents to London several times, playing tourist with them, showing them your new apartment, savouring moments of connection between the gaps of your new life and their old one. And then there was the day your boyfriend knelt before you, a ring glinting in the rose gold streetlights of Paris, asking you to be his fiancée.

Oh, it was the kind of moment you had always dreamed of, the fairy tale that every little girl secretly hopes will come true.

But life isn’t all dreams, is it?

You wept like a child, your heart shattered when you found out about the affair. Your fiancé, with your college roommate of all people. It felt like betrayal layered upon betrayal, and the sadness you carried then weighed more than all the joy of your past put together, manifested in the hollow echoes of your aching sobs in the shared flat you once called home. You moved out shortly after that incident.

Unfortunately, there were other disappointments, too. Failed job interviews, missed opportunities, the loneliness that seeped into your bones in those years after university, when friends began to drift away and the beauty of childhood transforms into a fading memory. But you picked yourself up. You always did. Because that’s what you did. That’s what you knew best. You kept moving, because the alternative, sinking, was unthinkable.

But through it all, you lived.

And you wouldn’t change a thing even if you had the chance.

You threw yourself into your work, into the messy and beautiful chaos of life. There were still some moments where you felt like you had the world at your feet, laughing with your high school mates over beers in dingy pubs, watching the sun set over London’s skyline, those spontaneous trips to the coast where you tasted freedom in every salty breeze. And you moved forward, not necessarily because you wanted to, but because time forced you to. But that was fine by you.

And in the quiet corners of your mind, Simon Riley became a distant thought—like the chorus of a song you used to know like the back of your hand. You thought of him less and less as the years went by, as your life became more complicated, more full.

You took his words to heart, didn’t you?

You left him behind.

But still, he lingered.

There were those times, in the early years, when your parents would call, giving you updates on Manchester, on the neighbours, on the old street you grew up on. You’d ask about the Rileys, casually, as if it didn’t really matter. You weren’t prying, not really, just curious. What had become of Simon? Of Tommy? Your parents mentioned Simon had joined the military at some point, which didn’t surprise you. He always carried a soldier’s weight, even as a boy.

They told you about Tommy too, how his life had spiralled out of control with drugs and the wreckage of his past trauma. Your mother sighed when she mentioned Mrs. Riley and how she had hit rock bottom. But Simon, when he returned from deployment, finally helped them rid themselves of Mr. Riley for good, breaking the cycle of abuse that had poisoned their lives for years.

Your parents even got a bit more involved in the Riley’s lives after that—dropping in with food, attending Tommy’s wedding with a kind soul named Beth, helping with little Joseph, their gorgeous newborn, who your mum absolutely adored. She’d tell you about him during your weekend catch-ups.

However, as time went on, the Rileys faded from your thoughts, a chapter you had quietly closed.

Your own life was blooming in London, despite the mistakes you made along the way. You loved fiercely, lost greatly, and found your way back to yourself time and again. The more you lived, the less you thought about the boy who once lived next door.

Until that cold November afternoon.

The air was ice cold, but not just from the weather. It was the kind of chill that settled deep in your bones, the kind that gnawed at you long after the sun had set during winter.

The day had been unremarkable at first—work was its usual rhythm of meetings and emails, the sound of your co-workers chattering as a familiar background noise. But then your phone rang, your mother’s weak voice trembling on the other end like the fragile crackle of dry leaves in the wind during autumn.

You had heard your mother cry before.

The grief at a relative’s passing, the heartache of a goodbye too long drawn out—but this was different. Her sobs were frantic, her rushed words spilling over each other in terrified, broken fragments, so hurried you could hardly catch the meaning.

“The Rileys… oh God, love, the Rileys are gone…”

It took you a moment to grasp what she was saying.

Gone? How? You sat frozen, the world around you blurring as your mum’s words came in and out like waves crashing against the shore.

“Dear Lord, some maniac... a psychopath… some madman…” she choked. “He killed them. Killed them all. Tommy, Beth, even little Joseph, an innocent baby, Oh God…”

You could hear your mother’s quiet anguish, but it was as though you were outside yourself, hearing everything from a great distance.

The Rileys. Dead. It didn’t make sense. Mrs. Riley, Tommy, Beth, the child—how could they be gone? The thought was too large and too grotesque to fully comprehend. It was like a nightmare, one you couldn’t wake up from.

“And… Simon?”

A name you hadn’t uttered in years.

A name that had always lingered on the edges of your memory, like a shadow cast by fading light.

Your mother’s breath caught. “I don’t know. Oh, love. He wasn’t there… I think he’s still in the military, but… we don’t know, we were asleep, didn’t hear a thing.”

She was crying again, her sobs muffled by the phone. Her sobs broke through, and she confessed, through gasps of guilt, that she and your father had been sound asleep when it happened, oblivious to the horror just next door. The sanctuary of your childhood, the quiet safety of the neighbourhood, shattered in a mere second.

Your mind raced, your heart thundering in your chest.

Oh, all those years, all those moments where you hadn’t thought about Simon Riley, and now, now the past was clawing its way back, forcing you to confront something you had thought you’d left behind.

Your coworkers looked up, sensing something was wrong. One of them asked if you were okay, if you needed anything, but you barely heard them. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything, but all you could do was tremble. Your hands squeezed as you gripped your phone, trying to keep your voice steady as you told your mother you’d drive up to Manchester right away, that you’d be there soon. When the call ended, and you were out the door before you had time to gather your thoughts. The moments after that were a blur, your body on autopilot as you stumbled to your car. The urgency to get there, to understand what had happened, burned through you, like liquid fire in your veins.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Pain hit you suddenly, sharp and overwhelming, something you’ve never felt before. It started as a dull ache in your lower stomach, but it intensified rapidly until you were doubled over, gasping for breath. You couldn’t drive, you couldn’t think. By the time you finally made it to your flat, the pain had become unbearable. Something was wrong, you knew. Terribly wrong.

You had to call for an ambulance, your hands shaking as you dialled the number.

However, you weren’t thinking about yourself as they wheeled you into the hospital, weren’t listening to the doctor’s voice as he explained the situation—appendicitis, nothing lethal, a routine surgery, and you’d be fine but you had to stay still.

Throughout your surgery, all you could think about was Simon. The boy who had grown into a man who you barely knew anymore, the man who had lived through hell and had come back to face it once again. Was he back in Manchester? Was he grieving? Or had he been claimed by the same nightmare that had taken the rest of his family?

After the surgery, you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down your face. It wasn’t the pain of your own body that made you cry—it was the helplessness, the not knowing, the fear that somewhere out there, Simon, your childhood friend, was lost, alone, and there was nothing you could do to help him.

You spent the first few hours after the surgery drifting between sleep and wakefulness, your mind clouded with both painkillers and the overwhelming ache of uncertainty. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of the past—memories of Manchester, the Rileys, Simon. The years blurred, and for a moment, you could almost feel the gentle summer sun on your skin again, hear the distant murmur of a time that seemed too far gone.

But the present was relentless.

Your parents arrived in London as quickly as they could, your mother staying by your side, fussing over you as she had when you were a child. Her hands were warm, but her eyes betrayed her fear. Fear for you, fear for what had happened back in Manchester. She stayed while your father left for the funeral—the collective service for the Rileys, held only a week after their brutal end.

You couldn’t go, of course. Fucking appendicitis.

The thought of missing that final goodbye gnawed at you. You couldn’t let it go. Therefore, you wrote. A letter. A really long letter. In the small hours of the night, with the hospital lights dimmed and the distant hum of machinery as your only company, you penned a letter.

The words didn’t come easily.

What could you possibly say to Simon Riley, after all these years? What could you write that would bring him any semblance of comfort, any understanding in the face of such senseless tragedy? How could you explain to him how sorry you were? Sorry for what had happened to his family, sorry that you weren’t there when he needed someone most, sorry for all the years you’d spent avoiding the memories of your childhood, of him. But you had to try.

You wrote with a trembling hand, pouring everything you couldn’t say aloud into that letter, every apology that had been lodged in your throat for years. You tied it to your father’s soul, knowing he would deliver it to Simon, wherever he might be. And your father, with his quiet strength, promised he would.

When the day of the funeral came, you lay in your bed, imagining the cold November air, the way the ground must have looked under the grey Manchester sky. You pictured the small crowd, neighbours, and friends from the community, all standing in sombre silence as the Rileys were laid to rest. But what haunted you most was the image of Simon—if he was even there at all. You wondered if he stood apart from the others, his broad shoulders hunched, his face unreadable as ever. Or maybe he hadn’t come at all, disappearing into the shadows once again, as he always had.

The week crawled by, each day dragging longer than the last. Your mother stayed by your side, but the quiet weight of what had happened in Manchester pressed down on both of you. Your father returned, but there was no news of Simon. Your dad told you that they didn’t talk much. No sight of him after the funeral. No trace of him in the days after. He had vanished, leaving behind an empty house and a tragedy too vast to comprehend. And when you finally recovered enough to leave the hospital, you made the trip back to Manchester with your mother.

The familiar streets felt like a ghost of themselves—places once filled with memories now overshadowed by the grim reality of what had happened. The Riley house stood empty, its windows dark, the air around it thick with loss. You stood at the gate for a long time, staring at the house that had once been so full of life, of pain, of everything in between. But now, it was nothing. Just a shell. Just another haunted corner of your past.

There were no answers. No signs of Simon.

And in the end, after a week of trying to help your parents, after a week of grieving and remembering, you left. You packed your things and drove back to London, promising yourself you’d never return. The city you had once called home felt cursed now, and the memories it held were too heavy to bear.

You couldn’t escape the past, though. Not really.

The promise you made to yourself all those years ago, to never return to that godforsaken city, was one you kept for a long time. It wasn’t out of spite or bitterness, but rather out of a quiet resignation. You had moved on, created a life in London that was full of both the mundane and the extraordinary. And after your parents moved to Wimbledon, following your father’s cancer diagnosis, the ties to Manchester became even more frayed.

It wasn’t until your thirty-fourth birthday that you found yourself heading back to the place you swore you’d never return to.

Not for family, not for closure, but for something as trivial and absurd as a fucking high school reunion. It had started with a sudden phone call from one of your old mates, the same group you used to run around with in your youth.

You hadn’t heard from them in years. Well, apart from the occasional likes on Instagram posts or an awkwardly short birthday text.

“Fifteen bloody years,” your friend had said, her voice bright and insistent. “You’ve been stuck in London with your fancy life, and we’ve barely seen you. Time to get your arse back here and have a pint with the group, eh? It’s been too long, girl.”

You laughed it off at first, citing your tight work schedule and your responsibilities. But the more she talked, the more you realised how long it had been since you’d even thought about that part of your life. A simpler time, before the complexities of adulthood and all its responsibilities weighed on you.

So you agreed. You didn’t really know why, maybe out of a sense of pure nostalgia or maybe out of some lingering guilt.

The drive up to Manchester was long, and your nerves sat uneasily in your chest. What would it be like to see those familiar faces again, to walk the streets that had once been the backdrop of your childhood? Would it feel like home? Or would it feel like you didn’t belong anymore, a ghost walking through memories?

However, by the time you saw the familiar landmarks, something in you began to settle. The nervousness faded, replaced by a strange calmness, as if the city itself recognised you and offered some kind of unspoken truce. You arrived at the pub where your reunion was being held—the same one you used to frequent during your teenage years. It was a dive, the kind of place that hadn’t aged well, but that’s exactly what made it feel like time had stood still.

Inside, the air was warm, thick with the smell of beer and the hum of conversation. And then there they were, your dear friends, sitting in a corner, laughing just like they always did. The moment you walked in, it was as if no time had passed at all. They greeted you with familiar smiles, pulling you into tight hugs and offering you a pint almost immediately.

The conversation flowed easily, old jokes resurfacing, stories being retold with exaggerated details and you found yourself chuckling. No, truly laughing, in a way you hadn’t done in what felt like ages. The weight of the years melted away, and for those brief hours, you felt like you were a teenager again, full of life and possibility, untouched by the heaviness that had since followed you. Oh, you hadn’t even realised how much you missed it, missed them. The simplicity of it all. The foolishness of youth.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drinking more than you should have. The beers went down easy, their familiar taste blending with the warm laughter and nostalgia. You hadn’t had a drink in a while, not properly, and it didn’t take long for the alcohol to loosen your limbs and soften the edges of reality. You felt light-headed, slightly detached from your surroundings but in that comfortable way that comes with the perfect level of drunkenness. Your words were slurring a bit, your laughter louder, but you didn’t mind.

Not tonight.

Eventually, the haze became a bit too much, and you excused yourself from the table. You needed fresh air, a moment for yourself to step away from the heat of the pub and the noise of the reunion. You fumbled with your jacket as you headed for the back of the building, where the designated smoking area was. It was behind the pub, near the dimly lit, empty parking lot, and as you made your way there, you nearly tripped over a discarded bottle on the ground.

“Bloody hell,” you muttered under your breath, the curse falling easily from your lips. Even small inconveniences seemed dramatic when you were tipsy. Some habits never died.

When you reached the smoking area, you were grateful to see it wasn’t crowded. Just one man, standing off to the side, leaning against the wall of the building, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he took a long drag. The tip of the cig glowed bright orange in the darkness. His silhouette seemed larger than life, almost unreal in the way he stood. He was massive, the kind of bloke you’d notice even in a crowded room, let alone in the quiet of the night.

Tall as a statue but built like a brick wall—shoulders broad and thick with muscle, his frame nearly filling the space between the wall and the edge of the lot.

At first, you stopped, startled by his size.

He was the sort of man you’d expect to see guarding the door, maybe a bouncer or a security guard. That made sense, considering how much physical strength he had. You nodded at him out of politeness, the way you do when you make eye contact with a stranger and want to acknowledge their presence without committing to a conversation. His gaze lingered on you, sharp and calculating.

Why was he looking at you like that?

You quickly turned away, feeling oddly self-conscious, and pulled out your cig, attempting to light it. But of course, as your luck would have it, your lighter chose that moment to give up on you. No matter how many times you flicked the damn thing, it refused to spark.

“Seriously?” you muttered, cursing your luck again. The bravado of the alcohol in your system pushed you to turn towards your only companion, flashing him an awkward smile. “Hi. Hello. Any chance you’ve got a lighter, mate?”

The man didn’t speak at first.

He just watched you, observed you, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and reflective under the dim light of the parking lot. There was something oddly familiar about the way he held himself, something in the way he stared at you that sent a ripple of recognition through you, but you couldn’t quite place it.

Without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a black, well-worn lighter, and flicked it open. The flame sparked to life, small but steady, and he leaned forward, offering it to you. You stepped closer, holding your cigarette to the flame.

As you did, you couldn’t help but take a better look at him.

His face was mostly obscured by the dim lighting, but his features were hard and chiselled. His nose was crooked, as if it had been broken more than once, with a small scar running through his upper lip. His lips were thin, pressed into a line that gave nothing away, and the faint lines around his eyes hinted at a man who had lived through more than most. However, it was his gaze, those beautiful hazel eyes, that stopped you cold. They were sharp, almost piercing, and there was something else behind them—an intensity that made your stomach tighten.

For a moment, you thought it might just be the alcohol playing tricks on you, but the longer you looked, the more certain you became. There was no mistaking it.

Those eyes, guarded and haunted, belonged to Simon Riley.

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking a quick drag from your cig, stepping back, trying to act casual even though your heart was racing.

There was something about his presence, something that felt both familiar and distant at the same time. It had been years, after all. You’d moved on, or so you thought. But standing here now, the weight of the past pressed down on you, the memories flooding back like a tide you couldn’t hold back. This random bloke before you… yes, the resemblance was mad uncanny. You stole glances at the giant man, unsure, your mind buzzing with uncertainty and the effects of the alcohol. Was it really him? Could it be?

You hesitated, your hand trembling slightly as you took another drag from your cigarette. You wanted to ask, but the words stuck in your throat, too afraid to sound foolish. Too afraid that if you asked, you’d break whatever fragile moment this was. But before you could find the courage to speak, the man sighed.

That sigh.

It was unmistakable—quiet, irritated, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and he was tired of carrying it. It was the same sigh you’d heard all those years ago, on that warm summer night beneath the street lamps.

“Fuckin' hell,” he muttered under his breath, the deep, rough rumble of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “S’me. Stop gawkin'.”

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seonghrtz · 10 months ago

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𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ sukuna ryomen

꒰ true beauty ! ꒱ an arrogant prince falls under the spell of an enchantress, who turns him into the hideous four-armed beast until he learns to love and be loved in return.

❛❛ in the end, she was his salvation and his downfall ❜❜

pairing. prince!sukuna ryomen x (belle)fem!reader.

contents. the beauty and the beast alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (?), he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, sukuna true form as the beast, occ sukuna.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this is the first story in the fairy tale series, starring sukuna ryomen in the beauty and the beast universe. initially i was going to put sukuna in the cinderella story, just because of the fandom memes (jjk x disney princess), but i think he as an arrogant beast who has never loved anything would make much more sense and fit in better. anyway, that's it, i hope you like it!!!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, in a kingdom far away, there was a handsome young prince who lived in a magnificent castle, and even though he had everything he wanted, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and rude. But one winter night, in the middle of a storm, an old woman came to the castle and offered him a simple rose in exchange for shelter from the cold and rain. Disgusted by her ugliness, the prince scoffed at the offer and sent the old woman away. But she advised him not to be deceived by appearances because beauty lies within people and in their hearts, and when he sent her away again, she was transformed into a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, as she realized that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she turned him into a hideous four-armed monster and plagued the castle and everyone who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous appearance, the prince hid in the castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she offered was enchanted. It would bloom until the twenty-first year, if he learned to love someone and it was reciprocated by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be undone, otherwise he would be doomed to remain a monster forever. Over the years, he fell into despair and lost all hope. After all, who could love a monster?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

The day began with a flurry of activity in the small village. Residents greeted each other as they went about their morning chores, and others opened their shops. Y/n, a beautiful young woman, made her way through the crowd with one goal in mind: to get to the village library. After buying some fresh bread and gathering the missing parts for her father's latest invention, the young woman made her way to the small library to return the book she had borrowed last week.

"Good morning, Mr. Higuruma." Y/n said as soon as she saw the man from the shop holding a pile of books. "I'm here to return the book I bought last week."

"Miss Y/n, good to see you again," the brunette said, placing the pile of dusty books on the table in the corner of the shop. "Unfortunately, the delivery of new books has been postponed until next week."

"Oh, no problem." Y/n approached the bookshelf, put the book she had picked up the week before back in its place, and ran her finger along the spines of the other books, looking for one in particular. "I think I'll take this one!" She took the book from the shelf and showed the cover to Higuruma, who just laughed.

"That must be the tenth time you've read that one."

"But this is the best book, certainly my favorite. Distant kingdoms, battles, and a princess who saves the prince. Sometimes, it's hard not to see myself as the protagonist. Living an adventure and finding her true love, something much bigger than life in the country.”

"Since you like this one so much, I'm giving it to you as a present."

"Mr. Higuruma, I can't accept that!" she looked at him, astonished at the idea, while the man in front of her just smiled.

"You're my most loyal customer. You've read all the books I have in the library. And maybe the only one with a real interest in reading."

"Thank you, that's very nice of you." Y/n smiled happily at the gift and the bookseller's gesture.

"You're welcome. Next time I'll have some new books for you!"

"Thank you, Mr. Higuruma!" Y/n waved, smiled, and left the shop. The young woman stared at the cover of the book, the worn blue leather and the worn gold lettering, it was a simple book, but with an extraordinary story behind its simplicity.

The young girl was so busy studying the book that she barely noticed Gaston's not-so-subtle appearance at her side.

"My beautiful lady!" Gaston said, thickening his voice and stopping in front of Y/n, preventing her from continuing on her way.

"Gaston..." she rolled her eyes and looked away from the book in her hands to the man in front of her.

"My beautiful Y/n, when are you going to realize that we are soul mates and forget about these books, which by the way have no figure, how can you like this so much?" He said, taking the object out of the girl's hands and giving her (or trying to give her) a gallant smile.

"Well, you just have to use your imagination while reading and I think you're reading the wrong signals about us," the girl took the book back and turned away from the man, "I have to go now, have a nice day, Gaston."

Y/n walked quickly back to her house, which was a short distance from the village. When she got home, she left the fresh bread on the breakfast table and picked up the tools her father had asked for before going down to where he was conducting his experiments and inventions.

"Dad? I brought what you asked for."

"Thank you, dear!" The girl's father came out from under the machine and took the object his daughter had offered him.

"Dad..."

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think we'll live here for long?"

"Oh, dear, when I become a great inventor, we'll travel the world!" Her father stepped out from under his invention, ready to finally put it into action. "Let's hope it works, dear!"

As soon as the machine was turned on, the parts began to move and a sound was heard, the axe on top moved down and cut the wood on the bench.

"Dad! It works! Your machine works!" the young woman said excitedly.

"And the axe didn't fly away!"

"Dad, you're going to be a great inventor!" The young girl hugged the older man, finally her father's dream would come true and he would become a great inventor.

"Oh dear! I must run and pack my things to go to the city!" The old man said excitedly, pacing back and forth, "You don't mind being alone for a few days, my child?"

"Of course not, Dad. Go after your dreams." The young woman smiled openly and hugged her father once more. "Come, let's pack your things for the trip."

Together with her father, the girl went up to the house and helped him prepare the small suitcase along with some snacks for his trip to the city. Ever since they had moved to this small village in the countryside, her father had been working tirelessly on various inventions that had failed one after the other, causing his reputation as a madman to grow among the locals. However, she had seen him fail and never give up, that was his dream, to become a great inventor and help people with his inventions and there was nothing that would stop him until he managed to make his inventions work. And if his invention surprised the judges in the competition and managed to win first place, maybe Y/n would not have to settle for a life in the country while her father could work on his "crazy gadgets".

The young woman stroked the horse's copper-brown coat while her father checked the bag with some tools.

"Be careful on your way, Dad." Y/n hugged him and helped him onto his horse.

"I'll be back in a few days, don't worry about me!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

The next day, Y/n awoke in high spirits, hoping that her father's trip to the city would be smooth and without danger. She put on a simple blue dress and headed for the kitchen, but before she could prepare breakfast, a knock on the door echoed through the house, along with a voice she knew well. On tiptoe, Y/n reached the door and looked through the peephole, seeing Gaston from an unfavorable angle.

"My dear Y/n! Are you home?" Gaston thickened his voice and puffed out his chest, even though no one could see him, "I have an offer you can't refuse!"

The young woman took a deep breath and opened the door with a fake smile on her lips. "Good morning, Gaston. Don't you think it's a little early for one of your proposals?"

"Oh, my beautiful lady, it's never too early for my irrefutable proposal!" Gaston said as he walked past Y/n and sat down in the dining room chair. "You know, my dear, I think you've noticed by now that I'm the best suitor in the village. It would be a shame for you to let me go. And lately, I've been thinking of certain ways to take our relationship a step further."

"Our relationsh–" The young woman's speech was interrupted by Gaston, who abruptly rose from his chair and spoke again.

"Think about it, a little house in the country, a small herd of cattle, a plantation, seven, no, ten children with my beautiful face, and you know what else I see?" Gaston looked at Y/n, but before she could answer, he continued, "My beautiful wife greeting me after a day's hunting.”

"You've been using your imagination a lot..." the young woman whispered to herself.

"And do you know who my wife is that I see in this beautiful future of mine?" Gaston approached the young woman, pressing her against the wall.

"How could I imagine?"

"It's you, my beautiful Y/n."

"Oh, Gaston!" Y/n held back the urge to make an expression of disgust at the scenario the man in front of her was describing, "I'm... flattered...? Yes, flattered by such affection, but I think this is wrong, you know, I think you've made a mistake.”

"How can I be wrong? You're the only one in this village whose beauty is on my level.”

"Beauty? Is that all you care about?" Y/n looked at him confused, she knew Gaston was shallow and self-centered, she just didn't get that he was trying to get her to marry him just because she was "the most beautiful girl in the village".

"And what else should I care about?"

"Well..." The young woman took a deep breath, "I think it's time for you to go... oh, I just heard Lefou say he's spotted a huge, fast deer that can't be caught!”

"A huge, fast deer that can't be caught?" Gaston's eyes widened. "Well, call your crazy father later so we can decide about our marriage."

"That won't be necessary because I'm not marrying you!" Y/n closed the door and locked it with all the locks her father had created. Ignoring Gaston's cry that she would be his one day, the young woman turned, leaned her back against the door, and slid to the floor.

Marry Gaston? It was a terrible nightmare. Not even if Gaston was the last person on earth would Y/n marry him. She had so much to do, so many places to explore, so many people to meet. And if she was going to get married, it certainly wouldn't be to someone as shallow as Gaston; she wanted someone who really liked her and her personality, not her looks.

The girl slowly got up, unlocked the door, and looked outside her house to see if the man had already left and wouldn't come back when he realized the huge deer was a lie. She did, however, notice a familiar copper brown horse galloping quickly toward her house.

"Phillipe?" She left the house, closing the door behind her, and walked toward the animal. "Where's my father, Phillipe?" The girl said, noticing her father's absence and the horse's exhilaration. "Phillipe, take me to my father, please!" Desperate to think of the worst that could happen to her father, the young woman pulled out the cart containing her father's invention and quickly mounted the horse, asking him to lead her down the path to where her father was. Phillipe raced through the dark paths of the forest, causing Y/n to shiver at the eeriness of the forest, while her mind wandered far away, worried about her father's current situation.

Phillipe began to slow down as a huge castle appeared on the horizon. It was so large and terrifying that it looked like something out of a horror book, though it seemed to blend into the desolate landscape around it. But perhaps what intrigued Y/n most was that she had never heard anyone in the village talk about the place ⸻ and it intrigued her even more because the castle didn't seem to be secret at all.

Y/n dismounted and looked around, trying to find the courage to open the gate in front of her. She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't afraid of this dark, unknown place. But the important thing there wasn't to prove her courage, but to find out where her father was. The gate was cold and made a terrible noise when it opened, but that didn't stop her from continuing.

"Hello!" The young woman said loudly as she entered the castle. "Is anyone here?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to see in the pitch black, but quickly found a lit candelabra. "I'm sorry to barge in uninvited, but I just came to get my father! Please... help me find my father!" Y/n walked aimlessly through the castle, following only her faint intuition of where he might be. "Hello? Is anyone there?" She spotted a staircase that seemed to lead to the top of one of the castle's towers. "Dad, are you there?"

"Y/n, my daughter?" Her father's weak voice called out.

Quickly, Y/n left the chandelier on the stone near the wall and ran to her father, who was trapped. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"My dear daughter..." the girl's father coughed before continuing, "You must run before he arrests you too..." Before the girl could say anything, footsteps echoed through the room.

"Who's there?" She looked around for the person who had just entered the scene.

"I'm the one asking the questions, impertinent girl." The stranger's gruff voice sent a shiver of fear down the young woman's spine.

"Please let my father go!" The girl pleaded.

"I'm not in the mood for that."

"What? How can you be so cruel? Can't you see he's in bad health?"

"He should have thought twice before he broke into my castle."

"Please let him go! I promise we will never see each other again!"

"Empty promises. I'm not really interested in that."

"Then..." the young woman took a deep breath, "let me take his place."

"My daughter! Don't do this!" her father said with tears in his eyes. How could he lose his daughter right before his eyes.

"Things are getting more interesting..." the person in the darkness laughed. "A fair trade, the old flesh for the new... uh, I'll take that trade, impertinent girl."

Before Y/n could speak, her body was thrown into a cell. The young woman quickly approached the iron bars and watched as her father was brutally removed from where he lay. Her father screamed her name and tried to get away from the person, but it was impossible to escape.

In the darkness, the girl could see the castle owner's back. The broad shoulders were adorned with black lines that ran the length of his back and, most shocking to the young woman, the four muscular arms that protruded from the side of his body.

Y/n was not only the prisoner of a shady castle owner with a serious personality problem but also of a giant monster with four arms who could finish her off with a snap of his fingers.

Minutes later, the owner of the castle reappeared and abruptly opened the door to the cell Y/n was in. The girl looked up at him, her eyes watering, afraid of what might happen to her from this moment on.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to follow me?"

"Where are we going?" she asked confused and scared as she followed the four-armed man.

"The basement..." his voice came out loud and clear, making the young woman shudder. "Shall I take you to a room, or would you rather stay in the tower?"

The girl had no answer, just followed him through the dark corridors of the castle.

"What's your name?" Y/n asked without thinking and quickly pressed her lips together, regretting her sudden action.

"Dinner will be served at eight." He said, opening a door at the end of the corridor, "If you don't come, you won't eat."

"Do you want me to have dinner with you?" the young woman asked him incredulously.

"It's either that or starve to death. You're lucky I'm giving you a choice..." he rolled his (four) eyes.

"I'm not having dinner with you!”

"THEN STARVE!" The four-armed man shouted angrily, frightening the girl, and slammed the door with a loud bang.

The young woman stared at the door in front of her, feeling tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She began to feel overwhelmed and staggered to sit on the bed. She had lost the two most important things to her on the same day: her father and her freedom. Now, she would have to live with an arrogant and rude being. Slowly, she raised her trembling hands to her face and wiped away the hot tears.

"Who's there?" she asked, startled when she heard a knock at the door. The girl got up and opened the bedroom door to find nothing there. She breathed a sigh of relief, but was startled to see a pot of tea and a cup in front of the door. "Tea?"

"Hello, Miss!" The cup said smiling, startling the girl.

"Itadori, what did I say about scaring our guest?" The teapot said, rebuking the cup's attitude.

"I'm sorry, Nanamin, and I'm sorry, Miss, for scaring you.”

"What... what's going on?"

"Forgive our rudeness," the teapot said, "I am Nanami Kento, I work as a mentor for the young Itadori Yuji, who is the younger brother of the master.

"Master?"

"Uh, Sukuna, the big guy with four arms."

"Sukuna..." Y/n whispered his name. The name actually suited him. "So this is like a magic castle?"

"You could say that," Nanami said, "Anyway, we came to ask you if you would like a cup of tea."

"If you don't mind, I'd love to." The teapot approached the cup and poured the warm liquid into it.

"Miss..."

"Please, just call me Y/n."

"As you wish, Y/n." Nanami said, being quite serious for a teapot, "I apologize for Master's inconsiderate and rude attitude."

"Mr. Nanami, please don't apologize for his actions, it's your master who should apologize, not you."

"She's right, Nanamin!" Itadori said with a cheerful voice, "My brother should stop being such a jerk and start learning not to be rude to people!"

"You two are quite different, Itadori," the young woman smiled at the cup in her hand.

"Let's just say I got the good genes from the family."

"Well, I'm afraid we've talked too much already, we have a feast to prepare. Come on, Itadori."

"Do you need any help?"

"Of course not, Y/n, you are our guest of honor!"

The young woman watched as the teapot and cup left the room, then threw herself back onto the bed. She had just been talking to a teapot and a cup... perhaps the things in there were not the most conventional she had ever seen in her life.

Filled with curiosity about the place, Y/n got out of bed and walked almost on tiptoe to the door, slowly opening it. She poked her head out of the room and looked around to see if anyone was guarding the door to the room she was in. When she realized that no one was there, she left the room, closing the door behind her, and began to wander around the castle with a curious look on her face.

This castle was certainly different from all the castles that appeared in the stories in the books she used to read. The decor was gloomy. The curtains looked as if they hadn't been opened for years, leaving everything in a darkness that the young woman was beginning to get used to.

Y/n climbed a flight of stairs and continued her exploration of the place. When she reached a dead-end hallway, she was about to turn around and return to her assigned room, but a faint glow from the slightly open door piqued her curiosity. Before entering the unfamiliar room, she looked around to make sure no one was around and entered, making as little noise as possible.

The darkness of the room prevented her from noticing the clutter and some upside-down furniture in the corner of the huge room, but also the glow of a beautiful rose near the glass door of the balcony that had captivated her. Before she could touch the glass that held the rose, Y/n felt a large, strong hand grab her wrist.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE?" Sukuna's hand closed tighter around Y/n's wrist.

"I was just–"

"I THINK YOU BETTER GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I KILL YOU!" Sukuna let go of the girl's wrist, not caring how much force he used against her, and turned to look at the rose in front of him.

The words frightened Y/n more than Sukuna's tone. Fearing that the threat would become reality, the young woman ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit from the castle.

When she found the huge door, she opened it without a second thought, feeling an icy wind against her body. Her thin dress wasn't enough to keep her warm in the cold or protect her from the falling snow, but it was all she had and she wasn't going back to the castle just to find something to run away with ⸻ the chances of meeting Sukuna were high and something she didn't want at the moment.

A wolf's howl echoed through the forest, and Y/n tried to run as fast as she could in the snow. Her body was freezing more and more with each passing second, and her head was spinning since the only thing she had eaten during the day was the cup of tea Nanami had offered her. Dizzy, the young woman's vision blurred, and she stumbled over a branch that was in her way. Turning around, she saw a wolf staring at her with a hungry look and wished that the animal in front of her wasn't staring at her. But before she could get up and run away in a lousy attempt to save herself from a natural predator, Y/n noticed a huge figure coming up behind the wolf and picking a fight with the animal.

Gradually, the young woman felt her body tremble with fatigue and the cold, but she soon regained some consciousness when she felt large, muscular arms holding her. "You've come to kill me, Sukuna...?" her voice came out weakly.

"Shut up, you impertinent girl."

Before she could respond to Sukuna's words, the young woman felt her body give way completely, and everything went black.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

When Y/n finally regained consciousness, she felt something soft underneath her and a pleasant warmth, but the sound of an argument brought her headache back. Sukuna's voice, the only one she could recognize, was loud and angry, and he didn't seem to mind shouting.

"I SWEAR, GOJO, THE NEXT TIME YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH, I'LL MELT YOU INTO LIQUID WAX AND THEN BREAK YOU IN HALF.”

"Master, I'm sorry to bother you."

"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT'S WRONG, GETO?!"

"Miss has just woken up."

"So you finally decided to wake up?" Sukuna turned to the young woman, his four arms crossed in front of his broad chest, and approached the sofa where she lay.

"What happened?"

"You fainted"

"How long was I unconscious?"

"About three days."

"What?" The girl looked at him, startled by his answer. Could she have been unconscious for so long just because she hadn't eaten?

"It's been two hours at most, now stop complaining because the food is getting cold." Sukuna turned his back to the young woman, allowing her to notice several scratches along his length, surely acquired in his fight with the wolf.

"Excuse me, miss, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Gojo Satoru, currently your candelabra, but always at your service!" The talking candelabra approached the young woman, "If you would allow me, I would like to take you to the dining room, as some are incapable of doing such kindness!"

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Gojo," Y/n smiled slightly and got up from the sofa, following the chandelier into the dining room. She sat down at the end of the table laden with food and shivered slightly when she saw Sukuna join her in the meal, taking a seat at the other end of the table.

Dinner took place in deep silence, on the one hand there was Sukuna who didn't know how to start a conversation politely and on the other there was Y/n who was in an internal discussion with herself about Sukuna's heroic act of fighting a wolf hand to hand after she had run away. He saved her life even when he didn't have to ⸻ and even after he threatened to kill her.

When she finished her dessert, the girl picked up the glass bowl filled with water and a cloth from the table and slowly approached Sukuna, "Do you mind if I help you with those bruises?" she asked in a low tone, but audible enough for the man to hear.

"Whatever." Though he seemed indifferent to the girl's request, Sukuna moved and turned onto his back, giving her better access to his bruises.

"Does it hurt?" she asked as she dipped the cloth into the water and gently wiped the bruises.

"Not a bit."

"I'm sorry, I'm to blame for what happened to you.”

"I'm glad you know. If you hadn't had the stupid idea to run off in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have been hurt," he said in a rude tone.

"Well, I wouldn't have run away if you hadn't scared me and threatened to kill me."

"And I wouldn't have yelled at you if you hadn't entered the forbidden wing."

"You have never forbidden any wing of the castle, just like you never said I couldn't explore it." The young woman's words left Sukuna speechless. In fact, he had never forbidden her to go to his room. She had done nothing to deserve being cursed and threatened. "You should learn to control your anger. Otherwise, you'll only drive away those who love you." The room fell into such a deep silence that neither of them dared to speak for several minutes. When she had finished cleaning Sukuna's bruises, the girl placed the cloth on the table and turned to leave. "I think I'd better go back to my room. Have a good night," she whispered.

"Y/n..." Sukuna's calm voice brought the young woman to an immediate halt. It was the first time he had called her by name.

“Yes?”

"Have breakfast with me tomorrow."

"Was that supposed to be a request?"

Sukuna rolled all four eyes, "Could you have breakfast with me tomorrow?"

"Yes, we could." she smiled broadly, showing her teeth, amused by Sukuna's frustrated look, "I would love to, thank you for asking."

"Yeah... whatever." Sukuna looked away to some random point. "Go to sleep, impertinent girl."

“Good night, Sukuna.” The young woman smiled openly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

When Y/n rejoined Sukuna the next morning, her first reaction was to examine the cuts on the man's back. The young woman felt guilty about the injuries, for if she had thought twice about what she was doing, the fight might never have happened, and Sukuna might never have been hurt.

Breakfast was eaten in silence, with discreet glances exchanged. For some reason, after being rescued by Sukuna, the young girl had a new vision of the four-armed monster. It's true that he was rude and arrogant most of the time, but there was something about him that had the potential to be a kinder being. Sukuna wasn't purely evil. She could see that at dinner last night when something started to blossom between them. Sukuna, on the other hand, tried to remember that the girl was kind to everyone around her. He was no exception to her kindness and sweet touches.

"I want to show you something." Sukuna said, controlling his tone, which surprised the young woman.

"What is it?" She said curiously.

"Could you..." he sighed deeply "Could you come with me?"

"Of course!" She smiled at Sukuna's attempt to be polite.

Sukuna led the young woman through the castle, which, unlike the day before, had its curtains and windows open and didn't look so frightening in the light.

"This is... an apology... for scaring you yesterday..." Sukuna's voice was lower than usual, and the tips of his ears turned red as he looked away from the girl in front of him. He certainly couldn't look into the young woman's eyes, not when he thought her eyes were as beautiful as the starry sky.

The four-armed man opened the doors in front of him, revealing to Y/n a vast library filled with books from floor to ceiling.

"Oh my! That's wonderful!" Y/n smiled and looked around, "How did you know I liked books?"

"A hunch."

"Sukuna..." The girl approached the man, "I accept your apology, and thank you for showing me this place. I admire you for trying to change." The young woman's hand reached Sukuna's upper right arm, and she gently smoothed the boy's skin under her hand, sending a shock through Sukuna's huge body. "So, which book shall we read first?" she asked after noticing the sudden and strange silence of the man in front of her.

“We?” Sukuna looked at the woman in disbelief.

"Yes, us!" Y/n smiled, pulling Sukuna with some difficulty to look at the books in the large library. "I think we started our relationship in a very bad and strange way, but I think we can change that... if you want to, of course."

"You are too good for this world..." Sukuna whispered.

"What did you say?" Y/n turned to Sukuna, puzzled by what the other had whispered.

"That you talk too much and that you're very curious," he crossed his four muscular arms.

"Aren't you the least bit curious about the world?"

"The world is a cruel place full of arrogant men who dream of being gods, I don't think that arouses my curiosity.”

"You have a very dark view of the world..." The young woman looked at him in surprise.

"It's just reality..." Sukuna shrugged.

"And why don't you try to change that reality?" The girl ran her finger along the back of the books, "Maybe if you looked for a new perspective, you might be surprised by the result."

"I have a feeling I don't have time for this anymore.”

"And why not? There's a whole world of possibilities out there, behind the bars of the castle."

"Do you think I've been stuck in the castle all these years because I want to be? Ever since they turned me into that four-armed monster, I've been hiding. What do you think would happen if I walked around the village like a normal person? People would hunt me down and try to kill me.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought of it that way..." Y/n stared at the floor as she clutched the book in her hands, ashamed that she had never thought of it from that perspective.

"Whatever"

"Why did you turn into a monster?" The girl's words were out of her mouth before she could think twice. "Oh, I'm sorry for being so pushy."

"An old witch cursed me..." Sukuna shrugged as he sat down on one of the sofas in the library.

"And there's no way to break the spell?"

"It's more complicated than you think..."

"Sukuna... why are you hiding under this rude and arrogant personality?" The young woman approached him and sat down beside him.

"I've always been like this, so stop giving me a hard time." He rolled his eyes and looked away from the girl.

"You can trust me, I won't tell anyone. Everything you tell me here will stay here." She put her hand on Sukuna's hand, which was resting on his thigh.

"Which book did you get?" he asked, diverting the subject.

"One of adventure and romance," the young woman smiled, respecting the man's decision not to talk about his past, "would you like to read it with me?"

Sukuna sat down on the sofa with a false expression of disinterest and watched as Y/n smiled excitedly as she opened the book, ready to tell her favorite story to the man next to her.

Neither Sukuna nor the young woman noticed the passage of time, and they were only slightly surprised when Geto, the clock, and Gojo, the candelabra, entered the library to announce that lunch was served.

They ate lunch and dessert in silence, both afraid to break the pleasant atmosphere between them. When they returned to the library to finish the story, the young woman noticed the snow falling outside the castle.

"Sukuna... instead of reading again, why don't we go outside and enjoy the weather?" The young woman suggested with a slight smile on her face.

"Do you want to go outside?"

"Come on, it'll be cool!"

After they were properly warmed up (this was the first time the young woman had seen the boy with some kind of cloth covering his upper body), they both went out side by side into the castle's huge garden. Slowly, the girl walked away from Sukuna, and suddenly, in her actions, she bent down and picked up a handful of snow in her hands, forming a ball, and then hit the four-armed man in the face.

"Is this a request for war?" Sukuna bent down to form two snowballs with his four hands.

"Are you telling me you're too old to have fun?" she smiled, hiding behind a tree as she made another snowball.

A snowball fight ensued, with the young woman laughing every time she hit Sukuna with a ball. Y/n ran through the snow, laughing awkwardly, until she felt her body thrown to the ground and pinned by a body more than twice her size.

"What? Have you run out of things to do, you impertinent girl?" Sukuna smiled sideways, bringing a blush to the girl's cheeks beneath him.

"If you stand over me like that, it won't be as much fun..." Y/n looked away.

"Ah, but I find it very funny," he laughed anasally. One of his hands reached for the girl's chin, pulling her face (gently) so that she was facing him again.

"You have beautiful eyes..." the girl whispered, but because of the short distance between them, Sukuna was able to hear her perfectly.

"All four eyes? Or just a pair?" He smiled provocatively but was secretly curious to hear the girl's answer.

"Hm, I meant all four."

Sukuna's heart skipped a beat and he felt a warm feeling grow in his chest. He knew from the moment he saw her that his heart had chosen her, it was as if it broke into song every time she appeared in his field of vision. He knew he was lost the moment she was kind enough to take care of a monster like him and tend to his wounds. But there was still a problem. There had to be reciprocity, and he knew it wouldn't be possible to be loved, not by someone like her. In the end, she was his salvation and his downfall.

Sukuna stepped down from the young woman and lay down on the snow beside her, looking up at the clear, cloud-filled sky. "My parents never loved me. They said I was useless, a scum, a terrible curse in their lives. They never cared about me or Itadori."

"You deserve so much more, Sukuna, I can see it now." Y/n turned her head to meet the man's face in profile. "It can't have been easy, but I'm glad that you're here now," by my side, she added mentally.

“Y/n…”

“Yes, Sukuna?”

"Is there anything you've always dreamed of doing if you were in a castle?"

"Ah, well, there's only one thing I always dreamed of when I read fantasy books..."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

"That dress looks magnificent on you, miss!" Shoko, the wardrobe, said with a slight smile on her face, she had chosen a long, voluminous yellow dress that looked like gold.

"I love the dress," the young woman smiled sweetly and smoothed the skirt with her gloved hands, "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. Thank you for helping me, Shoko."

"Go ahead, dear." Shoko said with her calm tone and a lazy smile on her lips, "Have fun with Master Sukuna."

Y/n left the room, feeling her heart beating hard against her chest. It was as if the organ was ready to jump out of her body and run away. Perhaps the girl was worried about the extent to which her feelings had grown since meeting Sukuna ⸻ and especially after the new vision she had after being saved by him. Though he had his monstrous appearance and rough manner to keep his vulnerability from being exposed, the girl knew that deep down, Sukuna could be good and kind.

"Not bad." Sukuna smiled sideways as he met the girl in the hall. He was wearing one of his prince suits, which had been transformed for this very situation.

"Can you really dance?" she asked, trying not to sound so doubtful about the supposed waltzing skills of the man in front of her.

"Since I was five years old." Sukuna replied, taking the girl's hand and placing it on his shoulder while holding her other hand tightly. His lower arms found a place around her waist together with the upper one that was already there. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She said with a smile.

The music echoed around the room, and Sukuna led Y/n, swaying from side to side until the girl got used to the dance moves. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sukuna lost himself in the depth and brilliance of the woman's eyes before him. The man had always found her beautiful, ever since that dimly lit night in the tower when they first met, she was certainly the most beautiful woman in his eyes, there was no beauty that could compare to hers. As time passed, Sukuna realized that her outward beauty was perhaps only comparable to her own inner beauty, which managed to be much more beautiful. Y/n was much more than a pretty face, her manner, her personality, and her admirable kindness and empathy were some of the things about her that enchanted him every moment he spent with her. And sometimes he thought that maybe he could have a place next to her, even with his monstrous appearance and questionable personality ⸻ she always made him want to be the best version of himself, even if he didn't know what that was yet.

"Y/n..." Sukuna's voice came out with a softness that startled him, "I want to take the chance to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything you want, I'm all ears."

"I..."

"MASTER! MASTER!" Gojo, the candelabra, ran toward the couple, who were lost in their own world.

"What is it, Gojo?" Sukuna's voice came out harsher than the tone he had used before.

"The castle is being attacked!" Gojo said in despair.

"By whom?" Sukuna's hands tightened slightly around the girl's waist, pulling her closer to his body.

"I think they are villagers, and your father is with them." Gojo turned to the young woman.

"My father? Is my father here?"

"Yes, but it looks like he's under arrest."

"Gojo, take Y/n to a safe place. If they want to come, let them come."

"What? But what about you, Sukuna?" the young woman looked at him worriedly.

"Don't worry, just do as I say." Sukuna slowly released the woman from his arms. "I'll take care of any disturbances, just stay safe."

"But I don't want to leave you."

"You're not leaving me, you're just protecting yourself from danger. That's what's best for you."

"I can decide what's best for me!"

"I'm well aware of that." Sukuna laughed weakly, "Just let me take care of it, and I'll get back to you safely."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

The young woman followed Gojo to one of the farthest rooms in the castle, promising the chandelier that she would stay there until everything was settled. As soon as Gojo left, Y/n paced the room, thinking of a plan to rescue her imprisoned father. Sukuna and the castle staff would be busy fighting the townspeople, and it would be the perfect time for her to act in secret.

Determined, she opened the glass door leading to the balcony and assessed the distance; fortunately, she wasn't too high up to take a fatal fall. She opened the wardrobe and took out all the cloth she could find, tying the end of each into a tight knot to make a makeshift rope. With the rope in her hand, she threw it across the balcony, tying one end to the railing. A little clumsy, this being the first time she had done anything so radical, she jumped off the balcony, holding tightly to her rope, and climbed down calmly, looking straight up. Once on the ground, Y/n ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit ⸻ or entrance ⸻ that would lead her to the castle gates.

"Dad!" she cried in a low tone so as not to draw attention to herself when she spotted a cart stopped near the entrance to the castle.

"Daughter?" Her father's weak voice caught her attention.

"Dad!" she ran to the wagon, worried. "Are you all right?"

"I wonder if you're alright! Did Gaston manage to save you?"

"Gaston?" she asked as she searched for a stone to break the lock.

"Yes! When I returned to the village, I asked Gaston and the others to help me free you from that monster."

"Dad, Sukuna is not a monster!" The girl used all her strength and smashed the stone against the padlock, breaking the object and freeing her father.

"How is he not a monster, dear?"

"He's kind and brave, he can be polite when he wants to be. I realized that he's not a monster." The young woman hugged her father.

"Oh dear, you're in love with him..." the older man said more like a statement than a question.

"What? No, we're just friends." She looked away, embarrassed by her father's words.

"I think we'd better stop Gaston then, he's come with the intention of killing him," her father said worriedly.

"What?" she looked at her father wide-eyed, "Father, stay here, please!" The woman grabbed the hem of her dress and ran to the castle entrance, watching the chaos unfold around her. The townspeople were fighting the castle furniture, which was actually its bewitched inhabitants.

"Miss!" Gojo's voice caught the young woman's attention. "You're supposed to be in your room. What are you doing here? Master Sukuna will kill me if he finds out you're not safe!"

"I have to find Sukuna," she said desperately, climbing the stairs, "Gaston will attack him, I can't let that happen!"

"But Miss, that's dangerous!" Gojo tried to stop the girl, but to no avail.

"And Sukuna is in danger!"

The young woman ran until her feet hurt, and when she reached the hall where she and Sukuna had danced minutes before, as if they were the only two in the world. However, the sound of a gunshot and an agonizing scream caught the girl's attention and pulled her out of her thoughts.

“SUKUNA!”

"Y/n?" Sukuna turned to the girl, looking frightened, as if he had seen a ghost.

"Gaston..." the young woman whispered as she saw the brunette stand up and point his gun in Sukuna's direction.

Without thinking, the young woman ran up to Gaston and threw herself on him, knocking the gun out of his hands. Y/n stood up and threw the gun out of Gaston's reach.

"Oh, my beautiful lady! I've finally found you! Your father has been worried about your disappearance!" Gaston stood up with a smile, "If you'll excuse me, I have a monster to kill!"

"He's not a monster, Gaston!"

"Oh dear, don't tell me you're going to defend that monster?"

"Like I said, he's not a monster. And if anyone is the monster here, it's you, Gaston!"

"What did you say?"

"That you are the monster here!"

"You bitch–" Before he could finish his speech, Gaston punched Y/n in the face, and as the girl fell to the floor in surprise at the sudden impact, the man kicked her in the stomach, sending her rolling across the floor of the hall. And before Gaston could do anything, Sukuna punched him in the face.

"I'll make sure you never lay a finger on her again." Sukuna grabbed Gaston's neck and led him out onto the balcony.

"Please! Please don't kill me!"

"You should have thought twice before you touched her with your filthy fingers."

"Sukuna!" The young woman's voice made Sukuna lose focus on the man he was holding by the neck. "Don't kill him!"

"But he-"

"Please"

Sukuna took a deep breath and looked back at the man, who was almost out of breath. Sukuna left Gaston on the ground, coughing to catch his breath as he turned and headed for the girl on the ground, but something hit him in the side of his body. He staggered backward in fear, seeing the dagger in his waist, and fell with someone else. Gaston, who was behind Sukuna, overbalanced and fell off the balcony, letting out a pained and desperate scream.

"SUKUNA!" Y/n ran over to the man crouched on the ground.

"Are you all right?" Sukuna asked, reaching for the young woman's warm cheeks."You should be safe. Why are you here?"

"I was scared..."

"How could an impudent girl like you be afraid?" The man smiled provocatively as he lay on his back on the floor, feeling the blood run down his side.

"I went to save my dad," Y/n controlled the urge to cry, "and I wanted to know if you were okay."

"Did you really think I would lose to a guy like that?"

"Sukuna... I'm scared..."

"It's okay, I'm here. I promised I wouldn't leave, I'll keep that promise."

"I want to be with you... by your side." The young woman leaned down, resting her cheek against the man's bare chest.

"Y/n... I have something to tell you." Sukuna felt his heart beating heavily against his chest.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Do you..." Y/n stood up in surprise and looked at Sukuna, "Do you love me?"

"Very much."

"I... I love you too." A broad smile formed on the girl's lips.

Sukuna's hand reached Y/n's face before reaching her neck and pulling her into a soft kiss. Sukuna's heart, which had been celebrating the mutuality of the girl's feelings, melted as soon as the young woman's soft, delicate lips met his ⸻ a warm, comfortable feeling settled in his chest. When they pulled away, Sukuna found his forehead on hers, and their breaths became one. Slowly, Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, surprised by the sight before her.

"Sukuna... you..."

"What about me?" The man looked uncertainly at the woman before him.

"You no longer have four arms and four eyes!"

"What?" He stood up quickly and looked down at himself. The wound from Gaston's dagger had disappeared, as had a pair of arms. Around him, the castle was angelic and glowing again, shedding its monstrous appearance.

The spell was broken.

And he was free again.

"Thank you..." Sukuna hugged Y/n tightly.

"Why do you thank me?" The young woman broke the hug and got up from the ground, standing in front of Sukuna.

"For loving me even when I was a monster." His voice was lower than usual. Maybe he wasn't quite used to all this new feeling.

"As I said, you deserve many of the good things the world has to offer."

"Speaking of which, I think we can get to know the world now, as you said, look for new perspectives."

"We?"

"And why shouldn't we?"

"You really want to take me with you to see the world?" Y/n looked at him excitedly.

"I promised to stay by your side, didn't I? And by the way, I don't think I could have a better partner than you to look for a new perspective on things." Sukuna smiled and pulled Y/n around her waist, pressing their lips together once more in a sweet, quiet kiss. "I want you by my side, forever."

"If you thought that impertinent girl would ever let you go, you thought wrong." Y/n wrapped her arms around Sukuna's neck, bringing their faces closer as she smiled, "I love you too much to let you go. Whether you're human or monster, I'll stay by your side, forever."

"Just so you know, there's no turning back. You'll be by my side forever from now on." Sukuna smiled teasingly.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea." The young woman quickly sealed her lips with Sukuna's.

Sukuna was free of a spell that condemned him for his past actions, and now he would fall under the spell that was the love he felt for the girl in front of him without any regrets.

#ㅤ♱ㅤwritten by amy.#𝒇airytale 𝒔. 𝄒 𖤓 #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #sukuna ryomen fanfic #sukuna ryomen fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

Text

MARAUDWEEEN

Feels Like The First Time | James Potter x reader

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 6 k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, bashful!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.

Prompt: As a part of the Marauween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where James Potter is a fireman, telling the story of how you met, and how your first time came about.

Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.

NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡

“What can I get you, sir?” You asked, not looking up from the register as you were trying to close the tab of the previous order. The machine had been acting up lately and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed to take its sweet time between closing an old order and opening the feed to start a new one.

You were almost scowling at it when you heard a low chuckle from behind the counter, you instantly recognized it. The cute fireman, you felt your cheeks flush at the thought.

“Everything all right, angel?” he asked, voice soft even as a little smirk played on his lips.

“James!” you said with a smile, deciding to ignore the machine and talk to the man instead. He lived a few blocks away, in your same building, and he always passed by the shop to get some coffee and a snack before he finished his walk to work. Sometimes he came on his way back too, he was over so often, that you almost knew his orders by memory, “Americano?”

He shook his head “I’m feeling up for something sweeter today.”

You hummed in response, running his typical orders in your head “Late with a pump of strawberry?”

He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about it, you couldn’t help to let your eyes linger over his uniform. He’d typically alternate between blue, yellow and grey. Today he was wearing grey and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look disarmingly attractive. He was big and well built too, but that was a lot easier to appreciate on hotter days when he wasn’t wearing his jacket on top of the usual either crisp white or neat black shirt, “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

You smiled and started writing down the details in his cup. When you realised there was no one on the line behind him, you decided to prepare his drink yourself, instead of passing it over to Marcus, your coworker, and better barista between the two. James knew, and yet, he much better liked the drinks you prepared.

“Want me to add a bit of whipped cream?” You asked.

“You spoil me,” he said with a smile, you turned to give him a questioning look, a smile playing on your lips as he nodded, perhaps that’s why he liked your drinks best, they almost always came along with a smile.

“You do spoil him,” Marcus added as he used one of the machines to draw pictures over a latte.

You gave him a pout as an answer and continued with your preparation. Once it was done you turned around, Marcus had gone off to tend some table and you walked over to James, handing him his cup straight to his hands. His fingers lingered over yours as he took it from you and you felt your stomach flutter, “I’d add some cinnamon for spice,” you told him, he nodded and walked over to the sugar table, doing exactly as you told him.

“Hey, James?”

“Hmm…?”

“Good luck at work today,” you added with a smile, Marcus from one of the tables almost rolled his eyes, while James’ smile only widened.

There was a huge fire that day, you saw it on the news on the small TV in the corner of the shop, one of the old buildings near the centre of the city had caught fire. Since it had been during work hours there hadn’t been that many people inside, and thankfully no one died but about 2 dozen had ended up in the hospital due to smoke toxicity. Or so was reporting the news lady.

“Do you think James’s all right?” you asked, turning to Marcus with a little frown.

“Why don’t you go home and check on him? He lives almost in front of you anyway. This happened about an hour ago, he might be there soon...”

You nodded, and hurried with the wiping of tables, still looking a bit nervous and rushed “I’ll finish up closing,” he added.

“Thank you,” you said as you went to pick up your stuff and remove your uniform from the back room.

Marcus called your name, you turned to him “Bring him something. His favourite treat of whatever… I’m sure you already know it by memory.”

“I… Well, I mean…”

“Don’t play dumb and just take it to him, whatever it might be. Would serve you well, maybe admit that you like him as well.”

You flushed “Shut it, Marcus.”

“He likes you back, did you know?” You gave him a look “Hey it’s true! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“He’s just polite.”

“Polite my ass, he’s never looked at me like that. Go on, knock on his door, patch him up and admit your crush. Maybe get it going with him too. What do you think he’d look like with those snug pants and a pair of suspenders? Only a pair of suspenders.”

You flushed a lot more this time around, the image floating to your brain unprompted, and you weren’t able to shake it off that easily. Curse your imaginative mind and Markus’ dirty one to put the idea in your head.

“So… his favourite treat?”

“It’s the lemon tart,” you admitted reluctantly. “He orders it whenever he’s feeling down. And also after bad days.” Markus smiled and leaned down to take two of them and place them on a small box for you to take home, “Thank you.”

“Thank me when you’ve seen him with only pants and suspenders!” he joked, and you shook your head in disbelief, a smile still plastered on your face as you did.

You got home after a short walk and went straight for a quick shower. It was then that you heard the thud of heavy boots in the hallway. He was walking towards his apartment. You hurried to finish and changed into simple shorts and a sweatshirt before walking the 2 door distance to his apartment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, you considered leaving, your nerves getting the best of you, but you remembered you still had the lemon tarts and decided to try again. This time you heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing James, still wearing his uniform, hair clinging onto his face from sweat and blotches of soot patching his cheeks, he looked tired, but he smiled the moment he saw who it was at the door. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.”

You swallowed, his gaze having a powerful effect on you “I… I uh… I saw the news and well, I assumed you had been there, I guess I was right,” you added after gesturing toward your face, trying to refer to how blotchy he was “I thought I’d come to check if you were all right… I also brought you some of those lemon tarts you really like.”

He stared at you for a second, as if trying to process the fact that you really had taken the trouble to bring him food, just because he’d had a tough day. When he realised you really were there, and not only a fragment of his imagination, he smiled “You picked my favourites,” he said pointing at the box.

You gulped, as if scared of getting caught but nodded “You… order them often,” you said with a shrug.

He hummed “And you know all of your client’s orders?” he asked, a flirty tone slipping as he moved to the side to let you in, nodding towards the kitchen, although you already knew where it was, since the layout of his apartment was almost an exact mirror of yours.

“Only the ones of my favourites,” you responded, which got him to raise his eyebrows as he pulled out two plates and a pair of forks, placing them on the counter. You opened the small box and gracefully served one of the pies on each of the plates, he didn’t wait too long to dig in, moaning at the sweet and acidic flavour.

“You’re the absolute best,” he told you as he continued to eat “Getting this after a fire might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You just giggled at his exaggeration, you didn’t know he didn’t mean only the pie, but also your company. As the two of you finished your meal, you stood up to go back to your apartment but he stopped you, a hand gripping softly onto your forearm “Hey wait!” You turned to him “Let me pay you back.”

You gasped and then shook your head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I get free treats since I work there.” But he didn’t let go of your arm just yet.

You saw him bite his cheek, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words “Regardless, I– Let me take you out, yeah?”

“Out… to the door?” You asked with a frown “I mean I know where it is but–”

“Out on a date.”

“You want to– Me?!?” He nodded fervently in response.

“So...?”

You smiled, you were sure you were blushing madly but his nervousness only made him even more adorable “I’d love that.”

He’d taken you to a small Italian restaurant that his friend Sirius had recommended, he told you about his life, about how he got into firefighting and you told him about yours, how you were working at the cafe as a side job to pay for your online studies. He thought you were a hero, which was almost ridiculous because if anyone was saving people between the two, it had been him.

After that date you went on many others, he frequented the cafe a lot more often, sometimes to order something, sometimes to drop by a bouquet of roses or some other kind of flower. Markus had teased you relentlessly after that, but he really was happy to see you happy. He also started giving you treats to take home a lot more often, but that was because he knew you were always sharing them with James.

“Thanks love, see you at dinner?” James asked as he took the takeaway coffee cup from your hands, you had written “Prongs,” and drew a pair of antlers on it just to tease him, since he’d told you about his friends giving him that nickname in school.

You nodded in response “Sure, want me to bring something?”

He leaned over the counter as if it were about to say something of the utmost secrecy “How about some of those chocolate tarts?” he whispered.

“Sounds about perfect to me,” you agreed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling back. He smiled dumbly after that and waved on the way out, almost bumping into a tall teacher who was also your regular.

“Watch your step, lover boy,” he told him. That day you found out Remus –the teacher who was a regular– and your boyfriend not only knew each other, but had been best friends for the longest time. He’d told you about him many, many times, but you had no way of knowing the calm, concentrated teacher who sat on his laptop grading students was the same mastermind prankster he always called Moony.

“So… how does he look in suspenders?” Markus asked you as he eyed your boyfriend finally leaving.

“Oh… well, I mean… I haven’t– we haven’t-“

“Shut it,” he said turning to you “You’ve been dating for a while now, like 2 months, right? Didn’t you tell me you slept at his apartment the other night?”

“Yeah, I mean, I did… I fell asleep watching the telly and he didn’t want to wake me.”

“I thought you meant something else…” he said as he shook his head “Maybe he’s asexual,” he added with a shrug “Total bummer for you.”

You frowned “I don’t think he– I think he’s just trying to be a gentleman.”

Markus shook his head, unconvinced “Have you tried to initiate anything?”

“We’ve snogged a couple of times.”

“And when it gets more heated?”

You shrugged “Don’t know what to tell ya.”

He hummed “You need to try harder.”

“I need to try?”

“Well to find out at least, don’t you want to?”

You shrugged it off then, but truth be told, the idea had already cemented itself in your brain. You paid closer attention to the times you snogged after that. Be it on the couch, or the counter of yours or his kitchen, it was always romantic kisses and even if he certainly seemed affected, be it his ragged breath, pink lips or expanded pupils, he never pushed for more. Perhaps he really was waiting for you to initiate things.

A few nights later, there was another fire, you had already gotten the key to his apartment so you waited over at his, bringing over some cream puffs and setting yourself on the couch while you waited. He arrived a little late, covered in soot like he had that first time you walked into his house with lemon tarts in your hand. He smiled the moment he spotted you on his sofa “Fancy seeing you here, darling,” he teased, echoing the words he’d said that first night.

You smiled “How are you feeling?” you asked.

He sighed, his shoulders slumped at that “We couldn’t… One of them didn’t make it.” You frowned, you knew he’d torment himself about it all night, so you walked over to him, taking a wet towel as he sat near the counter and started wiping some of the soot from his face.

“‘S not your fault.”

“But if we had gotten there sooner maybe–“

You pulled his chin, making his eyes look straight into yours “Jamie,” you said sternly, trying to ground him “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed again “I know, I know…” he said, and buried his head in your neck, smelling your perfume as he grabbed onto your hips, “Stay over tonight?” he asked “Please, I don’t– I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.”

You smiled, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing it lightly over his messy hair before settling it at the nape of his neck “Of course, my love,” you responded simply, and pulled his shoulders back to look straight at his face “come on, let’s get to the sofa, maybe we can play something on the telly to get your mind off things.”

He pouted “I’m sweaty, and I smell of charred wood.”

You tilted your head, a small smile drawing on your lips “I think you look sexy,” you teased, before grabbing his hand to pull him up and towards the sofa. He had a diverted look as he followed.

They were screening Karate kid for like the 5th time that week, but both of you were watching it patiently. That was until the commercial break started and you turned to James, he had a small frown on his face, almost imperceptible, as if he were trying to hide it from you, but you knew him well enough to know. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

James turned to you, a sorrowful look in his beautiful hazel eyes, “I found them, I tried, but…” You kneeled on the sofa and gave him a bone-crushing hug, or at least your version of one, since you had about half the strength he did anyway. Regardless, you heard the huff of a laugh coming from him.

You gave one last look at the telly, they were still going on some infomercial about a magical razor, yeah, no way in hell he gets distracted by that. “Hey Jaimie,” he hummed in response “How about we find another way to get your mind off things?” you asked, pulling back a little so he could see your face.

He gave you a look, “Like playing Monopoly or…” he didn’t even finish his sentence since you crashed your lips against his with a kiss. He was surprised at first but followed the kiss shortly after. Tightening his grip on your waist.

“Like this?” you said as you pulled out for air. He still had a bit of a frown, so you leaned into him again, determined to erase it with a kiss. He pretty much melted into you again, at some point you crossed your knee over his lap and you were straddling his thigh. You didn’t lean closer to him too fast, you wanted to give him some time.

Your lips started to travel from his lips to his jaw, he was right, he was sweaty, you could feel the salty taste of it as you kissed, and there was something else too, a little bit of that smoked flavour going on. You didn’t care, if anything, it really made him feel sexier. You landed on his neck, and started pressing wet kisses on a section you knew from experience he liked, and you heard a low moan coming from his throat, music to your ears.

“Wait… wait… hold up,” he said as he patted your shoulder softly, you didn’t pull back “Angel, please, I’m gross right now…”

“Don’t care,” you said between kisses “I like the way you taste.”

He stifled grunted after you said that –partly because of what you said, partly because of the way you sucked onto a particularly sensitive part of his neck– it was hard enough for him to restrain himself as it was, and you saying things like that was only making it harder.

You, without quite noticing what you were doing, started grinding against his leg, not quite against his crotch yet thought, you could still think enough to know it’d be too soon. You leaned back, trying to get to his mouth when you spotted him, he had a rather interesting expression on his face, brows furrowed, as if he was trying really hard to concentrate on something, or not to concentrate on something.

You smiled, holding back a laugh before placing your hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes, a worried look on his face “James, what is it darling?”

He swallowed, his breath was heavy, “I’m just… I’m trying not to– thinking of something else.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what was going on until you saw his gaze flicker down to his crotch.

“Oh.” You said quietly, and then, in an outburst of bravery, pulled your hand down to pat him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling it back.

“That– that’s going to make it worse.”

You smiled again, tilting your head just a little as you stared at your beautiful boyfriend “Allow me,” you said softly “I want to make it worse.” He looked at you as if he was trying to decipher whether what you were saying was true, and you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek “Pretty please?”

You had your forehead against his when he bit his lip and nodded, letting your hand free as you pushed it towards his crotch again. He was a lot harder than you had initially assumed he’d be, but you started rubbing your hand up and down regardless, feeling out his entire length which was nothing short of surprising. His head had somehow ended up on your shoulder again “fuck,” he said and trailed off with a few other curse words you weren’t sure you had heard him say before “That feels incredible Angel, You feel so good,” he whispered.

Eventually, you pulled your hand backward and he gave you the most reproachful look, “Hey… I want to be able to kiss you,” you said softly before leaning in for a kiss and finally closing the gap between your bodies. You had been wearing a pair of simple lycra shorts, so everything felt very close when you finally leaned your hips over his, grinding your core against the rough texture of his firefighter pants.

James was about to moan when you pulled him into a kiss again, so he moaned into your mouth, half attempting to return the kiss. His hands had now travelled to your hips, and he was helping you grind onto him, gripping almost a little too tight, not that you minded. If anything, you thought seeing this less controlled side of him was the hottest thing.

Your hands travelled to his jacket, he’d been so lost in thought when he arrived home that he hadn’t even taken it off, but that was fine, you could help him with that now. You found the plate box and started to unbutton it one by one, he had been so engrossed in you that he didn’t notice what you were doing until you moved your hands to his inside shirt to push the thick jacket to the side.

He helped you shrug it off and you set it to the side of the couch since you knew how much he cared for it. He gave you a smile through huddled lids and this time around he was the one pulling you towards him for another kiss.

You went to the buttons of his pants this time around, grinding on his thigh in an effort to not stop the buildup you’d already created. “Angel what are you…?”

“Material’s too rough,” you managed to mumble. His eyebrows knit in concern and he helped you in an instant. While he did that you fumbled with your shorts and took them off as fast as possible, not sparing a second glance to see where they fell on the floor, they were pretty ruined either way. He didn’t notice you had done that, not until you went back to straddle him and he felt the wet patch of your panties on his trouser. On his cock.

“Fuck dove,” he said when he realized.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost shy, thinking he might think it was gross but he shook his head.

“Don’t be, it’s fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed onto your hips again and started sliding you against him, grinding you against him. This time there was a lot more purpose behind his movements, he was quite literally rubbing you right onto his cock, you could feel it almost in between your folds through the two layers of clothing separating you from each other.

The room started feeling too hot, and you removed your hands from the back of his head and brought them to the hem of your sweatshirt, attempting to pull it off when his hands travelled to yours.

He pulled back from the kiss and stared at you, searching for your eyes “You don’t have to– Not because of the…” he took a deep breath, trying to think straight “We don’t have to do this just to distract me.”

Your expression turned soft, as you looked at him. How on earth did I get so lucky? You thought. You licked your lips, biting the bottom as you brought your hands to the side of his face. “It’s not just because of that, I want to do this Jamie, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He swallowed. “You think that sexy little uniform does nothing to me? I’m only human James.” He chuckled, eyes averting to the side in an adorably bashful expression that you were certain only James Potter would be able to pull off. When he looked back you gave him a teasing smile “Help me?” you asked again, nodding down.

This time it was he who bit back a grin, almost giving you a wink before he let his hands to the hem of your hoodie and helped you pull it off. He stared at you for a second. You were wearing a simple sports bra, nothing fancy, in fact, you’d dare say it was a little embarrassing since the bottom hem was frailing a bit already, but that didn’t seem to matter to James. He was staring at you as if he’d seen the hottest woman on earth. As if you had been wearing the most exquisite set of lingerie.

You blushed, obviously, you blushed, and hid your head on his neck so he wouldn’t notice, pretending you were going for a kiss, but he stopped you. “Hold up, I wanna enjoy the view,” he complained.

“When I’m wearing nicer underwear I’ll let you,” you said, pushing against him to go to his neck again, but he was stronger, if he didn’t want you to move, there was no way in hell you’d be able to move.

“Darling, your underwear is the last thing I’m paying attention to,” he said honestly. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you back, his eyes were blown with lust as he stared at you, at your bare shoulders he’d seen a couple of times, although not many since you started going out in winter and it still was winter. At the supple curve of your hips. At your breasts, you felt his hand twitch in your shoulder, as if he was holding himself back from touching anywhere else.

“James,” you said, getting him to turn his gaze back to your face, although you noticed it flicker down a couple of times, “You can touch.”

It was as if that had been all the permission he needed, he brought his hands down, letting them roam through your bare waist as you started to grind against him again. He was harder, if that was even possible. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his, and started trailing kisses down your neck, setting in the curve of your breasts as you continued to dry hump him.

He could see your hardened nipples through the thin cotton fabric. He’d actually seen them harden as he kissed, and then he did something you weren’t expecting, he held your waist and pulled you up a little, you almost whined at the loss of contact, but he pushed his head forward and gave an open mouth kiss to your breast, sucking and nipping through the fabric, you were now helping him hold you up with your own legs and holding onto his strong shoulders, absolutely lost in the feeling of his mouth.

He pulled back, giving you a mischievous look as he trailed his fingers over the frilled hem, there was almost an innocence to the way he was looking at you “May I?” he asked.

“Please.” He was already digging his fingers under the hem and pulling it over your head. “You too,” you added, pulling at his shirt. He quickly passed his hand to the neck of his shirt and yanked it off in a second. You gulped, you’d never seen anyone take their shirt off in such a hot way.

He was staring at you as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards his face, this time licking from the underside of your breast all the way to your nipple before he closed his mouth around it and started sucking again, without the fabric in the middle you could feel his wet tongue and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, you arched against him, and moaned his name when he bit softly.

His other hand was already massaging your other breast, kneading it and brushing his thumb over your nipple every couple of seconds. It felt incredible, and you relished on the feeling until your neediness got the best of you, “James,” you somehow managed to form the words, and grabbed the hand that was still kneading on your breast, pulling it down, to your core “Here, please.”

You saw him pull back to look at you, and he swallowed thickly but nodded, moving to kiss your neck as he traced his fingers over your wet panties “fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered between kisses. You gripped onto his shoulder a little harder, when he pressed his finger onto your folds, you were already pretty sensitive from so much rubbing onto his hard uniform pants that even the slightest touch had you on fire.

After toying with you for a bit, he slid his finger through the hem and pushed your panties to the side, digging his fingers on your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit. He found it in the blink of an eye and you were pretty much bucking your hips against his hand in search of more friction. He let out a breathy laugh “So needy,” he said before setting one of his fingers near your entrance and digging it in.

His finger was long, much longer than yours and it reached places you wouldn’t have dreamed of, he curved it in a particular way and you let out a gasp “Yes! Please, James, do that again,” you said as you panted, he obliged, and had you grinding against his hand again in no time.

“Angel you’re too tight,” he whispered as you leaned in to kiss him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his tight. He went in for another finger as you kissed him and swallowed your whimper. He was already moving his fingers and slowly opening them inside of you, trying to prepare you, in case you wanted to continue because hell knew he did.

He pressed his thumb against your clit again, he could feel you faltering on him, your hip movements becoming sloppier as he continued to rub “Jamie I’m gonna…”

He kissed your neck “Please do.”

You leaned closer to him digging your nails into the muscles of his back as you bit your bottom lip. James separated from your neck for a second to look at you, you looked fucking stunning as you whimpered and whispered his name and a few course words almost incoherently.

“So fucking stunning,” he told you with a smile. It took you a second to come back and be able to pay attention to him, to the way he was looking at you.

You huffed a laugh “Shut up Jamie,” you said with a smile as you shook your head, he still had his fingers inside you, and it looked like he didn’t have the intention to remove them any time soon.

“How are we doing?” he asked.

You frowned, “Why do you– oh.” He flicked his thumb over your clit again, thrusting his fingers in and out in a rather sharp way “James you aren’t thinking of…”

“Of course, I’m thinking of it angel, I need to see that pretty face of pure bliss on you again.”

You almost let him convince you but you shook your head. You didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, you leaned into him, making sure to let your clit rub onto his thumb again as you shifted your weight and your hips “Not until I see yours,” you whispered in his ear, bringing your hand down to the hem of his boxers and digging your hand to grope him.

He groaned at your harsh movement, but his head fell back, an expression rather similar to yours as you dragged your hands through his length.

“Help James,” you said, words cut with sharp breaths from the effort you were making to pull his boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped you do it, all the while you continued pumping him. There was already a bit of white precum coating his tip, even if the boxers had sucked up most of it, you used it to allow your hand to glide easier around him.

“Faster,” he asked, you complied, he was already bucking his hips into your hands, “fuck doll I think I’m going to– “ You instantly stopped moving your hand and his eyes snapped open, looking at you like you had betrayed him. But you didn’t give him an explanation, you used your legs to prop forwards and lined him against your entrance “Wait, doll–“ you lowered yourself onto him, “fuck.”

You gulped, allowing yourself to adjust before giving him a look, he was looking at his cock buried in you attentively, and he swallowed thickly, you didn’t wait too much after that, and started grinding onto him, “Fuck Jamie you fill me up so good,” you whispered, as if he needed any more encouragement. You thought he did since he wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t the reason he wasn’t.

He grabbed onto your hips, and halted your movement “fuck, angel, hold up– I need–“You looked at him worriedly, accidentally bucking your hips again as you tried to search for his eyes, and then you felt it. Wet and sticky, inside you. He’d cum.

He looked at you with the most mortified expression on his face, as if he was sorry “I’m– I’m so sorry I…”

You just laughed, placing your hand on his cheek to prompt him to look at you “Hey, It’s okay my love.”

“But I didn’t… Not even like 30 seconds I–“ James was completely flustered, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him that flustered before, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I’m taking it as a cumm-pliment,” you told him, he gave you a reproachful look and you gave him a peck on the lips. A small smile wavered its way towards his lips.

“That’s the– what a terrible pun,” he added. You bucked your hips against him again “fuck.”

You raised your eyebrow at him “Keep insulting my puns and I won’t help you with your little issue,” you threatened playfully as you started to buck your hips again, helping him empty himself completely. This time a lot slower, enjoying the way he felt on you, the way he was filling you up, how much easier it was to glide onto him with his warm cum all over you, some of it dripping to the side of your thigh and onto his already, you continued until he patted on your tight.

You nodded and pulled out slowly, setting yourself on his lap still. He still seemed awfully bashful, “Come on Jamie, I really don’t mind it.”

“But it was– our first time and I… ugh” he placed his hands over his face, groaning as he replayed the events in his head.

You bit your tongue not to laugh. At least he wasn’t thinking of the fire anymore. Mission success? You sighed and placed your hands onto his own and pulled them down, tilting your head a little in search for his eyes.

“How about…” you started, it seemed to gather some of his attention, although he was still looking at you with a dissatisfied expression “We go get a bath, and clean up…” you continued, he had finally lifted his head towards yours “we relax together a little,” you added, letting your fingers trace over his muscles, “we clean all the soot of that pretty face of yours,” you added, pinching his cheek which earned you a playful scowl from his part “and then chill for a while, see what happens next,” you finished, making sure your tone, raised eyebrows and half bitten bottom lip was suggestive enough. He looked at you, a diverted smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend the shower was our first time instead,” you added just to spite him.

He huffed, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on your waist and stood up, holding you against him with ease. You squealed and laughed at the sudden action “James!” you reprimanded “We didn’t even take your boots off, you’re gonna fall and drop me in the process,” he looked down and groaned when he realised it was true. Regardless he tried to jump his way before the two of you ended up back on the couch. You were laughing merrily as he huffed.

“Come on hot fireman,” you told him with a smile “Take off those pretty boots of yours…” you smiled as you sneaked out of his grasp “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

He pretty much groaned as he saw you leave, staring at your ass as you disappeared through the door.

A/N: this one came out so much sweeter than I expected it to, but I kind of love it. It really captures that James Potter humour, doesn't it? Maraudween and The Five Senses are the anthology series where I explore writing smut, all as a way to hone my skills for the moment I write it in my Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leave it in the comments below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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dovithedarklord · 11 months ago

Text

Stucked

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

This idea came to me while I was running and I had to write it down.

Just a short story that will have a sequel, I guess.

The story is inspired by this manhwa: https://cloudrecess.io/manga/dreadful-night

If you can, read it, it's great!

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You stare out of the car window with glassy eyes, and although it's not the first time that the lush green of the forest bathed in the light of the setting sun slips by on the horizon, it still manages to put the tension back into your stomach every single time. The peace out there could lull anyone into a false sense of security. But not you. It can't fool you anymore.

The same female voice comes from the radio, and you already know every single word of that damned song by heart. But even if you would show your displeasure, even if your companion sitting in the passenger seat would look for another radio station, the next time still the same godforsaken music would be playing. This is the background noise every time you return to the starting point, and it has almost become a habit that this melodic introduction starts your suffering all over again.

At first, as you woke up from your slumber in the back seat, the unfamiliar surroundings made you feel as though the vague world of your dreams had bled into reality, and now you found yourself in some bizarre fairy tale. But this is the twenty-second time that you come to your senses in the vehicle moving down the bumpy forest road, and you slowly start to get used to the stomach-turning cheerfulness repeated in a loop, which welcomes you every single time. And it was enough for you to feel the metallic taste of the blood filling your mouth once, and find yourself here again after feeling the icy pain of the knife slitting your throat, to understand that you are not in reality. Although the rough material for your jeans under your fingers, the floral scent of the perfume in the car, and the bitter taste of stomach acid creeping into your mouth seem perfectly real, just like the agony of your latest death, but you've learned that it's all just an appearance. An illusion. In which you have been imprisoned for weeks, and for exactly that long you are forced to die again and again, because you won't escape until you finally find the way out at the end of the mysteries that keep multiplying.

You don't know how you got here, but that doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that you’re stuck in a game, and you have to find out how to get out of it before this madness consumes the last shred of your sanity.

A loud laughter comes from the front, the blonde girl sitting behind the wheel recounts with a grin, how her ex-boyfriend tried to perform an erotic dance to this song, and how it ended in a late-night visit to the ER. Pam is that typical obligatory extroverted character, whose only role in such games is to be brutally murdered when she's about to get naughty with someone. She's a nice but stupid girl, and it's not her fault that whoever created her intended her to have this tragic end.

Rebecca, your other companion, who only laughs at Pam's story while sitting in the passenger seat, shily hides the blush rising on her face with her hand. And although she's a charming girl, you've seen her bloody corpse too many times for you to remember her blank, worldless eyes and her pale mouth frozen in an eternal scream instead of her radiant smile. She is the first to die. Always. And you might have felt sorry for her in the beginning, but you no longer have the strength to have compassion for someone who only exists in this nightmarish world.

As soon as the outline of the homey cabin appears at the end of the road, the foreboding appears in you like a familiar friend, which slowly closes your insides in an iron grip, as if the pull of the stress that awakens in your veins would help anything. After all, it always ends the same. You search for a clue, you die and you end up here. And the only thing that keeps you from going crazy is the faint hope that the more secrets you uncover in this goddamn purgatory, the closer you get to the exit. Maybe.

The car slows to a stop in front of the location of your late autumn vacation, and the two girls jump out of the car with excited laughter, arguing over who will occupy which guest room in the huge house. The same dialogue, the same room layout, the same ear-splitting giggles from Pam's mouth that remind you of her screams cutting through the silence of the night, as she gets gutted like a trapped deer. You've seen her mangled body too many times for her laughter to revive the images of the delicate, wet glistening of her intestines, as the pale light of the moon surrounds her lifeless form on the cold wooden floor.

With a weary sigh, you grab your backpack resting next to you, mentally preparing in advance to once again suffer through the excruciating play that, like a prologue, leads up to the horrors that await you in the night. You list the thousand steps you have to take to find out where you are in the game, to discover if your previous death was in vain. Did you get a new puzzle that brings you closer to the finish line? Has another path been revealed for you to continue on, one that might finally take you back to the real world? Your chest hurts when you realize that you don't even remember what it was like to not live in this hell. With each passing night, the memory of reality floats further away, and the ghost of tears burns your eyes when you realize that even your real name sounds like a false fabrication in your brain. As if you never existed outside the confines of this dreadful place.

The door of the cabin opens with a loud creak, and this disturbs you from your thoughts that are spiraling into ever darker depths. And as a man appears on the doorstep, you almost taste the bitterness of anger on your tongue, because although anyone would be fooled by the wide grin on his face, anyone would be enchanted by those vivid blue eyes, and anyone would be swept off their feet by the playful friendliness he embraces your two traveling companions in his strong arms with as a greeting, but you already know him all too well. After all, Johnny has killed you at least eleven times, with the same sickly sweet smile on his curved lips, with which he now turns to you again.

"Bunny!" He beams, and you have to use all your strength to suppress the stomach acid rising in your throat from the nausea that fills you from the fake kindness emanating from him. "It's good to see ye again!" He pulls you into a tight hug, as you shamble to the small terrace, and as he presses you to his broad chest, his scent, which you would recognize from everywhere, creeps into your nose. The aroma of his cologne, the saltiness of his skin, and that smell that you couldn't quite place before. The smell of blood clings to him like a faint, barely perceptible phantom that only you can sense. You've witnessed it too many times.

"You too, Johnny." You reply, each word burning your tongue like poison, but that's the script. You have to get into this act because there's no point in resisting. The story progresses the same whether you oppose it or not. The weirder you act in their eyes, the more the game will punish you later. And so you lose the chance of finding that tiny crumb that might help you get closer to your escape.

And from this point on, time crawls on leaden legs, and you sit through the impromptu dinner with gritted teeth, which was made by the man for you, while he was waiting for you to arrive at his modest little shack. He invited you here to celebrate your birthday. Your birthday according to the game, that is. You remember your own more and more faintly, and this makes you fall into despair enough to drag yourself through the events with a forced smile, like a puppet being pulled on a string by an unknown hand.

Sometimes you have the stray thought that you might be stuck here forever, and that you are forced to fight again and again in an endless circle, without end, without hope. And this suddenly makes the food taste like ash, which you force into your mouth with automatic movements.

"Is somethin' wrong, hen?" Comes the worried question, and blinking in confusion, you look up from your plate to Johnny, who is eyeing you with his dark brows furrowed in worry, as if your behavior would really disturb him. And you just shake your head with practiced happiness, putting a faint smile on your lips that doesn't reach your eyes.

"No. Not at all. My stomach is just a little upset. But it'll pass." You explain, quickly gathering your faux, artificial cheerfulness, because you can't deviate from the story now. Tonight you might have a chance to discover where the last clue leads to, and you shouldn't attract any unnecessary attention if you want to continue your search later. Let everything go in its own way until the shit inevitably hits the fan. But you still have work to do before that. It's only a few hours. You just have to bear it for that long.

This seems to calm him, for in an instant the lines of doubt disappear from his features, to be replaced by that disgusting kindness. And you are already familiar with the barely visible glimmer in those beautiful eyes, which makes you feel like a startled little rabbit being cornered by a fox. Johnny is a threat wrapped in honeyed words and friendly smiles, which was able to lower your guard one too many times. And you paid the price of your carelessness every single time.

And when the whiskey bottle, which was brought out in your honor halfway through the dinner, is finally empty, and the cake, which the man so generously bought for you before he came here, has been eaten, then the essential part of the evening arrives. Rebecca's phone rings, and she hastily apologizes so that she can go out into the cool night and immerse herself in the argumentative conversation she is having with her boyfriend. And you almost start to feel sorry for her, that death finds while she tries to get her love life straight. She doesn't even notice how deep the forest swallows her in the middle of the fight, and she is easy prey in the desolate wildness of trees and bushes. After the first three times, you no longer go after her or try to save her. You can't protect either of them. They are all animals for slaughter in the eyes of the game.

Johnny also retires for the night, claiming that the alcohol has gone to his head, and wishing you a "good night" he goes upstairs to sleep. For a while, you believed that he was indeed sleeping every time, and you honestly fell for the innocent performance he gave you, when the corpse of one of your friends was found. You seriously wanted to believe that he wasn't a threat to you. But then he broke your neck as easily as a twig. You will never be naive enough to trust him again.

"What a pity that you can't fuck your friends." Pam sighs longingly, and she almost undresses the man walking up the stairs with her eyes, biting her lip as her gaze glides over his broad back hidden trapped in the tight shirt. There is no denying that Johnny is an attractive man. It's a shame he's so handsome and even knows it. But the most evil creatures tend to be the most beautiful. You have learned this well.

Finally, you are alone after Pam has also left to take a shower, and you can begin what every nerve fiber of yours has been screaming for for hours. You jump up with nimble movements and hurriedly head in the direction of the kitchen, dropping the feigned serenity from your face. Last time, you found a dirty, yellowed picture in the woodshed, which took a while to decipher, but then you realized where to look. As you enter the small room, you pull out the photo to hold it up in front of you, comparing it to the room bathed in the warm light coming from the living room. Although Johnny renovated this house, you can still easily find the wall where a refrigerator now rests, but based on the bright red circle in the photo, you have to look for the next clue somewhere there. You slip the picture back into your pocket and try to search for something suspicious with the flashlight of your phone, so you can better see what you're dealing with, there's no other use for this damn device anyway. You can't turn on the lights because that would immediately alert the other killer lurking outside. You learn a new lesson every time you fuck up, but you get smarter with each attempt. You'll be out of here soon. You have to get out of here.

As you peer under the fridge on all fours, squinting, a board creaks under your palm, pressing down a bit under your weight as you lean on your hands. You know that this is a sign, and as you kneel up to look for something to pry open the wood with, your eyes settle on a knife left on the kitchen counter. The whipped cream is still smudged against the cool metal, and suddenly the unwanted image enters your mind as the same blade slowly sinks into your chest, breaking through the protection of your ribs to then penetrate your lungs, pouring warm blood into your throat. You swallow hard, forcing the memory of the metallic taste out of your mouth, and steeling yourself, you wrap your fingers around the knife so you can get back to work, because you can't dwell on this right now. There's no point.

You stick the knife under the board and carefully pry it open, making sure to stay as quiet as possible because you don't know what will trigger the next death flag. Even though you are now aware of the signs and actions that lead the attacker to find you, this miserable game still has many surprises in store. With a soft squeak, the wood pops open, and as a small dark hole is revealed underneath, you take your phone in your hand and cast light on it, and like a wild animal pouncing on its prey, you reach for the small object shining in a golden light. Your fingers find the relic resting there, and you examine the key in puzzlement, as you pull it out of its hiding place. What does this open? Too small to be for a door. Maybe a lock?

The realization hits your brain like a bolt of lightning, and you spring up and turn back towards the living room. The hope that you might find something valuable rises in you, so you hurry through the room still shrouded in intimate silence, to sneak upstairs with silent steps when you reach the stairs. You know, if Pam shows up to the noise, she'll be on your trail the whole time, and that way you'll only attract trouble sooner. It might be selfish, but it's easier to let her die alone than to be hunted down together. You need time, and the more you waste on supporting characters, the less you have left to progress. But even because of this, your sense of guilt is starting to fade.

As soon as you reach the upper floor, you see the door at the end of the long corridor, on which even at such a distance you can faintly see the padlock that keeps it closed. Until now, this fact wasn't important to you, because it immediately became clear that you can only get in if you have the key. You can't hack it with anything else, you can't tear it down, this damn diabolical place will only let you in if you find the right clue to it.

You stalk like a cat in the darkness of the corridor, and the sound of your footsteps is absorbed by the soft carpet running along the floor. You consider your every move, because a new way out is possibly within your reach, and you fear that the chance to find the next important hint may disappear at any moment. Your own soft breathing sounds deafening to your ears, and each heartbeat feels as if your heart would want to burst out of your chest. Every inch of your body fills with anticipatory tension as you creep closer and closer…

And then you hear the voices.

At first, the muffled sighs seem like nothing more than the soft snores of one of your sleeping companions, but then you hear a moan, and you are overcome with confusion. The closer you get to the door opening from the middle of the corridor, the louder the panting and the gentle rustling of the bedsheets become, and you try to recall who could be hiding there according to the script. But nothing comes into your mind, because that room has been empty until now, without role or importance.

And as soon as you get close enough, you understand what is going on behind the door left ajar. The only source of light in the darkness of the room is the moon peeking through the window, but you can perfectly make out the movements of the tightly entangled figures. Johnny looks almost otherworldly as the pale light paints the dance of the corded muscles on his back as his mouth smooths over Pam's throat, eliciting a lustful moan from her. One of his strong hands slides along her breasts, and soon after his lips stray there, he almost viciously bites her nipple, to receive a pained gasp in response. His palm rests on her hips, and as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh, his hips only meet hers with vigorous movements, filling the heavy air with almost obscene, wet sounds. And as he kneels up, his fingers glide along her thigh almost teasingly, so that, hooking his hand in the bend of her knee, he directs her leg to his shoulder, locking it in a vise-like embrace that makes his biceps bulge. He brushes his lips against her calf, and you see his teeth flash for just a moment before he sinks them into the delicate skin, drawing a lewd whimper from her mouth opening in surprise. His movements are restless, each thrust seems violent and desperate, and she just grabs at the sheet and starts pleading, encouraging him in tears to sink his cock into her pussy just a little bit harder. And with each passing moment, Johnny looks more like a beast lost in his pleasure, as low grunts and moans erupt from his throat as he pushes himself closer and closer to the edge. And your feet are almost rooted to the ground, and you're unable to tear your eyes away from them, as you lose control over your body from shock and disbelief. Even though you know you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be watching them, suddenly too much information rushes through your senses into your brain to process what is happening.

But as Pam's back arches with a loud cry, and Johnny's hips stutter with a growl-like sound, the surreal image ends, because the man turns his head towards you as if he knew you were standing in front of the door, frozen in astonishment. Your stunned gaze meets his eyes, dilated pupils swimming in lust, and you feel like a deer stuck in the headlights, waiting to be hit by a car speeding towards it. His mouth stretches into a lazy, satisfied grin as he slides out of the panting girl and slowly begins to rub his cock, as if to tell you that it could be you if you would just give in to the temptation.

And that clears your mind in the blink of an eye, and you back away hastily, almost running to the door resting at the end of the corridor, before you would have time to further analyze the features of the man's face filled with post-orgasm bliss. What the hell is this new scene? This has never happened before…

You reach for the lock hanging on the door with trembling hands, but your fingers are still clumsy from the adrenaline pumping through your veins, and they only find the keyhole after many tries. And in the middle of your fumbling, you don't even notice how a dark shadow appears behind you, and you only realize that you're late and have failed, when a gloved hand grips the back of your neck and smashes your head into the hard wood of the door with an almost painful strength. The force of the impact resonates through your skull, and you clench your teeth with a yelp as the sharp pain rips through your head.

Black spots swim into your field of vision, and you have trouble when you try to focus your eyes to decipher who attacked you this time. And as soon as you catch a glimpse of the skull-like mask out of the corner of your eye, you realize that this time you only managed to get this far. When the knife glints in the killer's hand as he strikes you, you only bitterly realize through the blood filling in your mouth that the game is trying to divert you from the escape with more and more vile methods. Because you're convinced that Johnny's action was just another death flag that ended your search prematurely. And you surrender yourself to the darkness with the knowledge that you cannot let this happen again...

When you come to, you're sitting in the back seat again, and the melody of familiar music reaches your ears only as a low hum, because you know you're back at the beginning of the game. But what worries you much more is that you walked into a scene the previous night, which not only completely deviates from the usual pattern of all the events until now, but also represents a downright disturbing new development. So far, the script hasn't gotten sidetracked from the main story in the case of the supporting characters, and Pam should have been waiting in the shower for the killer to appear when you sneaked up to find the door with the lock. The fact that this story has changed so drastically helps the icy fingers of dread wrap around your stomach. Because you have no idea what kind of difficulties this will cause you.

The usual conversation takes place between the two girls, and when you arrive at the wretched cabin, they leap out of the car with the same enthusiasm, as if they weren't heading towards another painful death. But it doesn't matter to them anyway, because surrounded by carefree ignorance, they don't even know what awaits them.

When the door opens and Johnny's well-known figure appears, his face filled with desire flashes before your eyes almost on a cue, and you forcefully push the memory out of your head. This little interlude distracted you just enough to know you shouldn't fall for the game's nasty tricks again. Because you are more and more certain that it actively wants to hold you back and trap you here forever. The heated spectacle of the previous evening can only be due to this…

"Bunny!" The man greets you with the same bursting, false joy that he always shows you, but now you have to forcefully drive away the moans echoing in your ears, which surface in your head when you hear his deep voice. "It's good to see ye again!" He says enthusiastically, and as his strong arms wrap around you, every single muscle of yours tenses, as the stress wakes up in you as a result of the fear that grips your insides. But it's even more worrying, as new fragments of memories flood the canvas of your mind, because the experience of seeing those hands glide over the body of your companion is too fresh to quickly overcome your embarrassment.

But you don't have time to think about how to get over these tangled emotions and continue the play, because suddenly you feel the man's hot breath on your ear, and in an instant, every part of you freezes like a frightened animal when the predator digs its claws into it.

"I hope ye liked what you saw, bonnie." The man grunts softly, and for a moment you think you misheard it. But as one of his hands creeps down to rest on your waist, and he presses you closer to him, the air gets trapped in your lungs with an almost painful force. "Because ye'll be next..." He whispers, and in his voice lies such a dark promise that it makes your blood run cold.

And as if nothing had happened, the moment ends suddenly, and as he steps away from you, he only looks down at you with his usual nauseating smile. But you see the dangerous predatory sparks in his eyes, and his gaze makes the little hairs rise up on your neck. And you soon realize that something is very wrong with the game. Fuck.

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish #soap #soap mactavish #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap cod #alternate universe #horror #soap x reader #soap x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #soap mw2

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ramblingoak · 7 months ago

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Stolen Frosting

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 2 - Late Night Snacks

Phantom x Swiss

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Phantom owns a bakery, Sweets and Treats, and Swiss is the gym teacher at Lucifer's Hollow High School. ~

Warnings: fluff and that is all, sfw, 500 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

“I know this looks bad.”

Phantom remained still, continuing to stand in the doorway to his kitchen silently. Swiss shifted his weight from foot to foot, his claws tapping the tile softly. Behind him his tail swished rapidly back and forth as he waited for the other ghoul to do something, anything. After another handful of seconds passed, Swiss just gave up, scooping another spoonful up of the absolute heaven he had found in Phantom’s fridge and shoving it in his mouth.

“Really?!”

“I’m sorry!” Swiss’s words were garbled with the spoon still in his mouth and he winced when his fangs clacked against the metal. Quickly he yanked the spoon away, tossing it into the sink and then closed the container. “I was starving and I found this and unholy shit it’s amazing.”

Swiss could tell Phantom was preening under the compliment but the quintessence ghoul was doing his best to hide it. He pouted when Phantom came over and took the container out of his hands, shoving it back in the fridge.

“Frosting isn’t food.”

“It is if I eat enough of it, lemme have the rest.” Swiss attempted to get at the door handle but Phantom hip checked him. “Where’d you buy that anyway?”

“I made it.” Swiss froze in his attempts to get into the fridge, staring in disbelief at Phantom. The ghoul suddenly became shy, his cheeks pinking up adorably. “Did you forget what I do for a living?”

“No, of course not.” How could he when Phantom smelled like sugar and cinnamon and a thousand other amazing things all the time? “I guess I just didn’t think you’d make frosting from scratch.”

“I make everything from scratch.” Lucifer, Phantom looked too damn cute standing there all proud of himself. Swiss leaned in and quickly kissed him, enjoying the taste of frosting and Phantom on his lips. When he pulled away the ghoul looked both surprised and pleased. “What was that for?”

“Being adorable.” The blush was back and Swiss couldn’t help but wrap an arm around Phantom’s waist to pull him closer. “And the frosting, of course.”

“The stolen frosting.” Swiss’s stomach chose that moment to growl and it was the multi ghoul’s turn to blush. “Still hungry?”

“Famished.”

Their eyes met and something unsaid passed between them, something that had been brewing for days now. Swiss lowered his head to kiss Phantom again, as gently as he could manage. He was lucky Phantom had let him stay the night and he didn’t want to push him. If all he could do was kiss Phantom in this kitchen for the rest of his days he’d be happy.

“I could make you something?” Phantom pulled away and grabbed an apron hanging off the wall quickly tying it around his waist. “Cupcakes?”

“Marry me.” Oh shit, Swiss's eyes widened and he immediately held his hands up, “Sorry, I mea—“

“Let’s make them first.” Phantom flashed him a smile and then wandered over with an apron for Swiss. As he walked around him to tie it at the back he leaned up close to Swiss's ear, “You can decide if they’re worth marriage after trying one.”

Swiss spun around, reaching up to gently hold Phantom's head in his hands.

"Baby, you had me at the frosting."

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More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

#mushy may 2024 #swiss x phantom #swiss x aeon #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing #nameless ghouls

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personne-writes · 6 months ago

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A ROTTMNT contribution to the Turtles Together zine

Alternate realities

----- I'm very proud to present to you my poem for the @turtlestogetherzine! The physical copies have already all been sold in leftover sales, but you can still buy the digital bundle here if you'd like. I'd recommand reading it on AO3, but if you'd rather stay here, be my guest! -----

Four brothers hang out under the clouded moon, Basking in New York City’s noises and light. They talk and they laugh on a roof out of sight; It’s too late for duty – and for sleep, too soon. They may be teenagers but at their center Lay powers and forces that never tire, Sparks of energy, everlasting fire – Often at the service of quips and banter. The Blue one gushes about a job well done, The smile of the Red one is nothing but proud, The Orange one wonders silly things out loud Of which Purple knows much, yet kindly says none. “If everything changed,” Orange suddenly asks, “In another life, or place, or world, or time Would we keep our colors? Would we still wear masks? Would we still be ninja turtles fighting crime?” Red and Blue whistle and start theorizing Orange happily helps their ideas fuse But Purple falls silent. His pulse is rising. Science is calling. Who is he to refuse?

Between dearest walls, he retreats with his tools In one hand a pen, in the other a cup Both needed for work – he doesn't make the rules. Hours become days, still the math won't add up. As he struggles hard to make equations fit Something starts nudging at the back of his mind. He is close – to what? He cannot quite name it Then, in a split second, dimensions unbind.

It feels like his thoughts Are now being shared. He tries to reach out. Perhaps, if he dared –

Contact. Confusion. New realities. Alternate versions. Other families.

He sees things that he doesn't remember Unknown memories blending together.

Echoes of voices, Tales ancient and new All of them are his; All of them are true.

His instincts kick in The gears start to spin Narrowing on – There! The thing they all share –

Struggle. Everywhere. Missions, miseries Mortal ennemies Pressure and anger Menace and danger

Every version of him Every version of them They all stand. They all bite. They all dread and they all fight.

And Purple flinches. Can this be their essence? Responsability over insouciance Honor and duty against opposition Sacrifice for all without recognition?

No. That can't be it. This isn't who they are, Their fate can't be written with tears shed so far. In his heart, he knows there must be something more; With a switch, e feels it, pulising at the core.

The bad and the good things flow from the same source And he shifts and pushes to swim up its course. It all comes from a place of fondness and care The urge to take risks, to protect and repair The sense of justice and the dedication All boundless affection in demonstration.

The feeling is strong. As he follows its trace, The fragments of truth at once click into place. There, clear as day, is the universal law: Accross dimensions, the Turtles don't withdraw.

Lightheaded, Purple comes back to his senses. His lab feels too small; he needs wider spaces. He goes to the kitchen – the pizza smells nice Watches his brothers fight over the last slice Leans in the doorway and finds himself staring. His soul is catching up; his heart is flaring.

The familiar shouts of loss and victory Help him se the fabric of reality. No matter the world, no matter the plots twists In every timeline, his family exists.

The rift between their universes is crossed; Everywhere, there are green heroes in the night There are masks and colors even when all's lost There are sparks and fire ever shining bright

Faith stronger than doubt, Trust louder than fear Hope warmer than drought Love closer than near.

------

Thanks for reading! This was my first experience being in a fanzine and I must say it was quite the first time. I'm still astonished at the sheer quality of each and every contribution, but also at the professionalism and efficiency of the mods, not to mention everyone's enthusiasm through the whole project! All my thanks again to the Turtles Together zine team for letting me in and my regards to all my fellow contributors out there, keep being awesome guys <3

#turtles together zine #tt zine #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #my writing #writing #poem #original content

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stellar-solar-flare · 3 months ago

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A Fairytale Of A Disaster | S.R.

Chapter 2: Looking For The Happy Ending

Explicit - 18+ only! | Steve Rogers/Doctor!Reader

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AUTHOR AO3

<< Previous chapter

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

Chapter Word Count: 2696 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

A/N: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

Chapter Warnings: Discussion of Steve's canonical trauma; mentions of Steve/Peggy.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2: Looking For The Happy Ending

A part of you was really, really glad that you had decided to order the wine; you could feel your nerves flaring up, now that the initial surprise at the evening’s direction had passed. It was less so that he was Captain America, the literal superhero, the most eligible bachelor in the entire country according to many, and more so that his musky scent and his warm presence were going straight to your head. It felt like on some level, after all the conversations, you already knew who he was, but messages couldn’t have prepared you for everything. Like how the sheer presence this man had, how he could simply stand next to you and send off a signal that he was completely aware of you, was making your head spin. Feeling some initial curiosity and a little crush over messages was one thing; being hit in the face with the raw, sparkling physical attraction you were feeling was quite another. And even as you didn’t exchange words — too much attention here, too many ears listening — you could see Steve stealing looks at you over the brief minutes you waited.

You weren’t quite so sure any more that you didn’t believe in fairy tales.

The car arrived so fast that you were at least half-certain that Steve had carried it with him, tucked into his back pocket with the assistance of some Tony Stark’s bordering-on-magic technology. You barely had time to get your food back in a cardboard takeout container and finish the glass of wine before Steve glanced at his smartwatch and told you that the car was waiting.

You reached for your purse to pay the bill, and he stopped you with a gentle hand placed on your forearm. He’d slipped into the bathroom earlier to wash the worst of the dirt off his hands and face, and now, when he wasn’t afraid of making a mess out of you — oh, your subconscious needed to get things together or you weren’t going to survive this night — you could feel the entirety of his palm pressed on your bare skin.

“Please. Let me. That’s the least I can do for having kept you waiting,” he murmured, his eyes in yours.

He was already going to cook for you; you thought about arguing about the fact, but looking into his eyes, it was clear that this was very important to him. You could have afforded it, certainly, and it did feel a little unfair to let him pay when he hadn’t been enjoying the food at all. But since he was on Tony Stark’s payroll, you doubted the few drinks, the appetizer, and the fish and chips you now held under your right hand were going to make much of a dent in his cash. If it made him feel better…

“Only if you insist,” you replied after a beat, smile on your face.

“Oh, I do,” he smiled. “A lady never pays on the first date. That’s the rule. Especially when I asked her out.”

Apparently, Steve’s rules for a first date also included helping you into your coat and paying for the tip of the person working in the cloakroom. His hands were warm when they brushed against your shoulders as you slipped into the coat he was holding up, even as he didn’t linger. It seemed that he ran hot, or that the suit had some sort of temperature regulation built into it, because he didn’t seem to mind stepping from the warm restaurant into the cold February evening. The biting wind made you huddle deeper into your coat for the few steps from the door to the car waiting at the curbside.

“Ladies first,” Steve smiled, reaching to open the front passenger door of the decidedly nondescript black SUV.

Before you could ask, you realized that the driver’s seat was empty.

When he’d mentioned calling the car, you had obviously assumed that he’d be calling someone to drive you over to the Avengers Initiative Campus upstate; instead, he had literally called the car.

“It’s not on the public market yet,” Steve said, answering your wordless question. “Something Tony’s been tinkering with. It’s easier if we have vehicles stashed here and there in fully automated garages.”

“For date-related emergencies?” you grinned as you slipped into the seat, guiding your skirts with a hand as you did.

“Among other things. Although I don’t find myself in this situation very often,” he said as he closed the door after a quick glance to check that your skirt wasn’t going to get caught in the door. “It isn’t the kind of guy I want to be.”

He was smiling, but there was something underneath his tone. For the few seconds it took for him to go around the car and settle in to the driver’s seat after tossing the shield in the backseat — heedless of the white leather of the car and the grime on his suit — you thought about it.

It couldn’t be easy for him to date; not with the reputation and the fame attached to his title. And not with the demands of his job causing all sorts of delays and rain checks; all the emotions coming through his voice had already told you as much. He would’ve accepted it if you hadn’t been willing to give him a second chance after almost standing you up. He would’ve left it there and never bothered you again. And yes, perhaps that would’ve been fair — there was nothing wrong with not wanting to deal with your significant other having a job like that. But the same could also be said about your job.

Instead of replying immediately, you let him focus on merging into the traffic, even as you realized that compared to the things he usually did, driving — even in New York — was probably as easy as breathing. You shifted in your seat to recline more comfortably.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re that guy,” you replied. “Not the one to keep someone waiting without a very good reason, and not someone who dates just for the thrill.”

He gave you a chuckle in reply, but something about the way he glanced at you was so warm that it tingled in your veins.

“Thank you. And it does mean a lot. I can’t say I…” he murmured, his eyes back on the road again and you were certain it wasn’t just about the traffic. “I didn’t exactly have the easiest time concentrating today. I kept thinking that I’d blown the chance to have something great once again, that the world had again decided that I wasn’t making it to a date.”

His words lingered in the air for a few seconds, during which you very clearly understood what he was talking about. Of course, it was ancient history in more ways than one, but everyone knew the story of Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter and the dance that had needed one hell of a rain check because he had sacrificed himself to save the world from the alien weapon. After the seconds ticked by, he glanced at you again, redness on his cheeks and something panicked in his eyes.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, I don’t… I’m not comparing, I don’t want to compare, I’m not looking for any sort of replacement for a road not traveled, it’s just…”

He sighed, trailing off again. His eyes stared forward, and his hands squeezed the wheel of the car hard enough that they might leave finger-shaped dents behind. Finally, he spoke again, something resigned in his voice:

“I’m sorry. Look, if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t feel like you’re up for this after that, just say the word and I’ll drop you off where you want,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to make you feel like you’re a second choice or anything like that. I’m obviously not great at this and if you don’t want to deal with that… ”

“Hey,” you said very softly. “No need to go looking for a grenade to throw yourself on, Captain. This isn’t an army camp.”

You reached over, letting your fingertips brush the top of his hand right there on the edge of where the wrist turned into the back of his palm. He glanced over at you again as you sank back to your seat, and even with the brief contact, you didn’t miss the fragile hope in his gaze.

“I’d rather hear how you feel than leave this car,” you continued. “I don’t think there’s anything very surprising about those things crossing your mind, and it doesn’t have to be about comparison. Obviously being faced with rather similar circumstances to the ones that were present when something very traumatic happened to you would bring up memories. Of events, and of people.”

Some of the tension drained away from Steve’s shoulders, but the chuckle that left his mouth was a little joyless.

“You’re pretty good at that,” he said.

“I’ve trained,” you raised your brows. “Comes with the skillset. But seriously, I’d understand if you need a rain check after what has obviously been a pretty intense day for you. We could plan something else.”

Your eyes flickered back to that cut on his chest, visible through the tear in the suit. The wound was already closing, and probably in a few hours it would be completely gone. You wondered if people thought that the same also happened to everything he experienced. If the public accounts about the eidetic memory were true, then he remembered everything, and even as his brain was probably better at processing things and arriving at the place where he could look at experiences logically, that didn’t mean the experience wasn’t intense.

You pulled yourself back to reality, reeling in the doctor and the researcher in your head and looking up at him again. He was staring at you — as much as he could, with his head halfway turned towards the road, but nothing about the way he was driving indicated that he wasn’t focusing on that, too.

“Is everything alright?” you said.

He breathed out, scrambling for words again as he returned his complete attention to the road.

“No, yes, it is, I mean…” he breathed back in, gathering his composure. “I am not used to anyone… getting that. Or even asking that.”

Something twisted in your chest, and had he not been driving, you would’ve wanted to take both his hands into yours. It hadn’t taken you more than a few texts with him to realize that this was a thoughtful man with a big heart and so much to give, and now, it didn’t surprise you that he wasn’t used to people understanding what it was like to be him.

“I don’t think anyone can ever understand another’s experience, not really,” you said. “And I wouldn’t dream of thinking that I know what it’s like to be you, what it was like to go through everything you have gone through. But I know how it is to have to be the one who has everything under control in the operating room. I know how it feels to feel like your job takes over all other aspects of your life. How it is to wonder if you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life and… And thinking that the best chance of finding something great you had had in a long time had just slipped through your fingers.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks as you said the last words. They had halfway escaped your lips, brought forth by the way he’d accidentally served you his heart on a platter. Even as you hadn’t been fighting gods-knew-what in Antarctica, it had still been quite an emotionally intense night, and that was obviously bringing everything out in the open. You lowered your gaze to your hands in your lap, not really daring to look at him. You might’ve just made everything beyond awkward.

But when Steve spoke, it didn’t feel like that. His voice was genuinely warm, so warm it made the atmosphere change too. As if some sort of miniature sun had suddenly been trapped in the car and its rays were now transforming whatever floated in the air into something you could just let be there, existing in between the two of you.

Forming a bond of trust.

“Thank you,” he said. “For trying to understand. And for telling me all that.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should need to thank me for,” you murmured back. “But I do want to hear, if you want to talk about it. And I want to hear as someone who wants to get to know you, not as someone who is a medical professional.”

The cautious smile on his face had spread a little, and upon your disclaimer, it briefly lit up his whole face. Then, his expression returned to a more somber state, but it wasn’t quite heavy anymore. Just serious, as he looked back to what had once been, and a tiny hint of nostalgia had crept into his voice.

“I think it took me a couple of years to get back out here not because of any burning love for Peggy but because I needed to let go of the life I would’ve had, could’ve had, back in the forties. So that everything wouldn’t be tainted by comparison, not to something that was necessarily better but to something that was familiar. I’d built all these hopes about my life, if I got healthy, if I got into the army, if I met someone with whom we’d hit off… Realistically, it wouldn’t necessarily have been Peggy. It might’ve been, but it might not have worked out at all with her if things had ever progressed beyond some chemistry and one kiss in the middle of a war zone. But I had these images in my head about a happy ending and everything it meant in that era, and I think that if I’d tried to find one here earlier, before I went through all the therapy, I would’ve not been able to appreciate the good things — not because they wouldn’t have been as good or better than what I’d thought I’d have but simply because it wouldn’t have been the exact image I had conjured in my mind. And now, when I finally felt like I was ready to try to find that happy ending again, I was pretty scared that something great was going to slip through my fingers again, as you put it,” he said, and smiled a little sheepishly as he stopped. “I don’t know if that makes any sense. But I don’t want a rain check, if you don’t, despite everything.”

You smiled, not just at his honesty but the admission in between the lines, that he truly thought this might become that happy ending and that it had already felt like something great to him. It wasn’t really a surprise, after what he’d said about being marriage-minded when it came to dating — realistically, things wouldn’t have progressed this far if he hadn’t been thinking that — but it was still different to hear it like this, sitting right next to him and feeling the words, rather than as an explanation of his general mindset over messages.

“I think it makes a lot of sense. And I appreciate your honesty, and the fact that you worked on yourself and made sure you are doing things for the right reasons,” you said. “And for what it’s worth…”

You smiled to yourself, peeling open the cardboard container that held your food and extending it to him.

“…I don’t see a reason why this night can’t be absolutely great despite everything. Want some fish and chips?”

He chuckled, reaching over to grab a fry. As he did, he brushed his little finger briefly over the knuckles of your hand holding the box, sending a tingling feeling of electricity up your arm, and you knew that he heard what you’d said between the lines, too.

I don’t see a reason why this can’t be our happy ending.

Next Chapter >>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #ssf fic: a fairytale of a disaster #captain america x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 months ago

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tuesday again 9/10/2024

someone adopt this little orange man from me in Houston TX! more details here!

listening

the 1991 Ella Mae Morse compilation Capitol Collectors Series is the official driving-cats-to-the-vet album bc it is so mellow but still fun. this album has previously been featured several times in tuesdayposts but i think you should all listen to it again.

youtube

seven thousand three hundred days IS a long long time to sleep ur so right ella

reading

two different works that annoyed me: Emily Hamilton's The Stars Too Fondly. my first clue should have been that this is my least favorite poem, bc ppl would quote it to me smugly after my mom died. im sure they thought they were being so super comforting to a budding astronomer, but, much like how i can no longer eat lasagna bc ppl gave us Twenty! Party! Size! Platters! Of! Lasagna! after my mom died (they would just Appear on our front porch, frozen), too much of this poem really soured me.

i had this book on hold Forever and then delayed delivery twice bc i have not felt like reading lately. here's the publisher's description:

In her breathtaking debut—part space odyssey, part sapphic rom-com—Emily Hamilton weaves a suspenseful, charming, and irresistibly joyous tale of fierce friendship, improbable love, and wonder as vast as the universe itself. So, here’s the thing: Cleo and her friends really, truly didn’t mean to steal this spaceship. They just wanted to know why, twenty years ago, the entire Providence crew vanished without a trace. But then the stupid dark matter engine started all on its own, and now these four twenty-somethings are en route to Proxima Centauri, unable to turn around, and being harangued by a snarky hologram that has the face and attitude of the ship’s missing captain, Billie. Cleo has dreamt of being an astronaut all her life, and Earth is kind of a lost cause at this point, so this should be one of those blessings in disguise that people talk about. But as the ship gets deeper into space, the laws of physics start twisting, old mysteries come crawling back to life, and Cleo’s initially combative relationship with Billie turns into something deeper and more desperate than either woman was prepared for. Lying somewhere in the subspace between science fantasy and sapphic rom-com, The Stars Too Fondly is a soaring near-future adventure about dark matter and alternate dimensions, leaving home and finding family, and the galaxy-saving power of letting yourself love and be loved.

should be catnip for me, right? wrong. starts out as a chat fic, which i hate.

i had a lot of trouble finishing the first chapter, which also has an extended third-person omniscient narrator flashback in italics, a thing i also hate. i KNOW you can figure out how to integrate this information into the book in a better way instead of dumping it in my lap.

i think part of why this is not hitting like i wanted is the tone, because i think this veers more new adult than i was really hoping for. i think introducing a big group all at once is very hard to do effectively. i do not like a series of character introductions that feel like they are trying to sell me action figures. or perhaps blind-bag figures. i do not like a six-deep list of cheesy puns about someone's name. i do not have the patience to see if this debut novel finds its footing a little later on, though i am glad a sapphic ghost in the machine romance exists in this world.

i also read dean motter's mister x (both the original late eighties through early nineties run and the 2008 follow-on).

let's yoink the description from wikipedia:

Set in Radiant City, a dystopian municipality influenced by Bauhaus and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, the series concerns a mysterious figure who purports to be its architect. His radical theories of "psychetecture" cause the citizenry to go mad, just as he did, and he takes on the mission to repair his creation. To accomplish this he remains awake twenty-four hours a day by means of the drug "insomnalin", all the while coping with a Dick Tracy–like rogues gallery and supporting cast including his long-suffering ex-girlfriend Mercedes. (ed note: the redhead in the santa beard below)

the art in this comic book is really and truly stunning. everyone was firing on all cylinders. beautiful retrofuturistic advertisement vibes, very fun play with panels and word balloons while still being readable, there are airships, you know how it is. looooooooove a hardboiled noir.

the Concept of mister x, this horrible awful futuristic city that grinds its citizenry up and spits them out? both figuratively and sometimes literally? love it!!! love a great wounded beast of a city as a character!!!

unforch the "who is mister x" subplot does not resolve in a satisfying way, imo. there's a lot of flip-flopping, there's a lot of options, he ends up being (maybe?) someone he was very definitively proven NOT to be in an earlier issue, and it really soured me on the whole experience. and also i don't believe it! that specific person makes no fucking sense! who mister x is, is by far the least interesting part of the series. tell me more about how he's fixing the city. show me more of the city. shut up and dance, robot artists

watching

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, dir. Singer). this movie did not need to be two and a half hours long. appreciated the EXTREMELY divorced energy from charles & erik though, quicksilver rescuing the school scene was also very fun. my bestie's husband has informed me we are NOT watching Dark Phoenix, i'm not sure if we're going to loop back and watch the ??? number of wolverine films or if we're going to see how i feel about deadpool. bc i find this character insufferable through clips only.

playing

there is a feature in the video game genshin impact to turn your World Level (TM) down in order to make overworld enemies a little easier. i am at seven out of nine bc i genuinely can't finish the boss to unlock world level 9, and i am finding some of the overworld enemies too hard at 8 and want to finish the achievements in a more relaxed fashion.

making

this is going to be a lot of previously posted pics so bear with me.

saturday morning/saturday evening. plants? repotted. porch and stairs? swept. old wasp nests? knocked down. different mirror on the porch to go out to the curb when i have the energy? yes. also a giant slab of engineered stone from the top of a dresser but that's out of frame.

speaking of the giant broken dresser that was in my apartment when i moved in just over a year ago, i ripped it apart with a crowbar and threw it in the dumpster. put my pretty zebrawood desk in the empty space and started thinking about what to hang on that wall. the wall across from it is maps, bc i think a cozy office should have lots of maps and it makes a good video conference background. maybe this will be the dedicated cowboy nonsense wall. i did so much dusting and vacuuming and mopping and the girls can't even hang out in here bc the orange boy is in the office bathroom. big sigh.

also a lot of driving around and emailing and calling thirty shelters and rescues figuring out how to get this orange man a home. please take this orange man off my hands.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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undertale-fic-librarby · 4 days ago

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Do you know any Nightmare x classic fics please?:) can be explicit or not, I don't really care

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Everyone Loves a Classic by Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato (Not Rated, Incomplete)

Classic Sans... everyone has heard about their origin tale. The very character that ended up setting up all of their lives in their own universes and their own time. However, to any extent, almost no one has met him. The reason? Simple, there was no reason for them to. Whilst they all were able to talk to each other face to face, Classic was the one who never intermingled with the alternate universes. So, what happens when a chance encounter leads to all of the Undertale Au finally being able to meet the one who started it all. The very reason they too are anomalies in the grand spectrum of the universe. One thing is for sure, Classic will never be able to get a break. However, no matter how akin anybody actually does becomes to Classic, there is always something that he is hiding. All of his newfound friends and aquaintences are determined to figure out just what happens when he is not around. Why he won't allow them to go and see his universe with their own eyes. // Welcome to a general fan-book that is going to be written in a script format, because I have nothing better to do in my life and I am literally just wasting away here. Please help me, I am going to die of boredom... :'(//

The Collector of Broken Things by Redacted_Writer (Mature, Complete)

Classic knew of the AU's. He simply never thought he would meet anyone until that one fateful day, when Nightmare offered his hand. It was the best choice he would ever make, taking the offer.

The Last Remaining Enemy is Fear by Zenovy (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Classic tired of the repeating genocide route, it drained him to the point of isolating himself while unknowingly fueling Nightmare's power. After getting severly injured by Dreams arrows, Nightmare is forced to flee and find negative emotions to fuel his weakened state. That's when he stumble across Classic. After recovering he decided to snatch Classic as his forever power generator. Mutualistic symbiosis Classic emotions become a power generator for Nightmare and feels happy with the negative emotions getting vacuumed. Nightmare Vacuum the negative emotions to fuel his power. Update : hiatus (WRITER BLOCK)

Classic Nightmares by Magyka13 (Explicit, Complete)

Classic Sans goes to sleep tired after a long day on the surface Unbeknownst to Classic until it's too late, Nightmare is waiting for him in his dreams No one can save him now

Beyond Repair by LoversInMidnight (Mature, Incomplete)

Sans had lost everything. In the past, his only friend had been his anchor. The moment the world cast Sans into isolation, he lost hope. Years he remained alone without help. He was broken to the core. Even so, will someone finally see his pain and save him from the darkness, or even himself?

#sorry that the first two aren't exclusively nightmare & classic #but according to the tags that should be part of them #fic rec #fic recommendation #ao3 fic recs #utmv #nightmare sans #classic sans #classicmare #not suitable for minors #ask #mod sleepy

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im00flynn · 1 year ago

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Across the Spider-Verse

Summary: When Gwen introduces you to her new friend from another dimension, you can't help but feel drawn to him. But as you get to know Miguel O'Hara, you realize that there's more to him than meets the eye.

Warnings: A bit of angst but mostly fluff

A/N: This is my first Miguel O'hara fanfiction, and this is sort of bad 😭 Also you are Gwen's friend in this.

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You had always been fascinated by the idea of alternate universes, so when your friend Gwen told you that she had made a new friend from another dimension, you were beyond excited. You couldn't wait to meet him and learn more about his world.

When Gwen brought Miguel O'Hara to your apartment one evening, you were struck by how different he looked from the Spider-Man you were used to seeing. His suit was sleek and futuristic, and his eyes glowed behind the mask.

"[Name], meet Miguel," Gwen said, introducing you to him.

Miguel extended his hand, and you shook it eagerly. "Nice to meet you, [Name]. Gwen has told me a lot about you."

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Likewise. So, what's it like being from another dimension?"

Miguel chuckled, taking a seat on the couch. "It's definitely different. The technology is more advanced, and there are some pretty strange creatures out there. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Miguel's easy charm and intelligence. He was a natural storyteller, regaling you and Gwen with tales of his adventures in his own universe. You couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as you listened to him, wishing that you could experience his world for yourself.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel found yourselves alone in the kitchen, washing dishes. You could feel the tension between you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"So, [Name], what do you think of me?" Miguel asked, his voice low.

You turned to face him, feeling your heart race. "What do you mean?"

Miguel smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I mean, do you like me?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away. "I don't know. Maybe."

Miguel stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours. "I like you too, [Name]. There's something about you that draws me to you."

You felt a surge of excitement at his words, and you looked up at him. "Really?"

Miguel nodded, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Really. And I want to get to know you better, [Name]. Will you give me that chance?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of elation. "Yes, Miguel. I'd like that."

And with that, you and Miguel began a whirlwind romance that spanned across the spider-verse. You traveled to his world, where you saw sights that you never could have imagined. You fought alongside him against strange creatures and villains, feeling a sense of exhilaration that you had never felt before.

But as much as you enjoyed the adventure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about Miguel that you couldn't quite put your finger on. He was secretive at times, and there were moments when you caught him staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

One night, as you and Miguel sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, you decided to confront him.

"Miguel, what's going on?" you asked, turning to face him. "You've been acting strange lately."

Miguel sighed, looking away. "It's nothing, [Name]. Just some things from my past that I'd rather forget."

You reached out to touch his hand, feeling a sense of empathy. "You don't have to keep it from me, Miguel. I'm here for you."

Miguel looked at you, his eyes softening. "Thank you, [Name]. That means a lot to me."

And with that, Miguel opened up to you about his past, his struggles, and his fears. You listened intently, feeling a sense of connection that you had never felt before. As he talked, you realized that there was more to him than just the Spider-Man persona. He was a complex, multi-dimensional person, and you couldn't help but fall even more in love with him.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel sat in comfortable silence, watching the city below. You felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you had found someone who understood you in a way that no one else could.

"[Name], I have to tell you something," Miguel said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, feeling a sense of apprehension. "What is it?"

Miguel took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I love you, [Name]. More than anything in this world. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked at him, feeling a sense of overwhelming love. "Yes, Miguel. I love you too. I'll spend the rest of my life with you."

And with that, Miguel took you in his arms, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away. As you held each other, you knew that you had found something truly special - a love that transcended time, space, and the spider-verse.

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you

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muiitoloko · 1 year ago

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MISSION: HEARTBREAK

(The GIF belongs to: @blanchett )

Author's Notes: Greetings! I hope you're doing well. In this new narrative, we'll explore an alternative story within the Bedivere and Harry saga, set in an alternate universe. In this tale, Bedivere will be portrayed as an original character, and we'll embark on a separate storyline. So no "YOU" pronouns here, and remember this story is completely separate from the original Bedivere saga

Summary: Harry Hart had always professed his love for Bedivere, but she never took his words seriously. It wasn't until it was too late that she realized the depth of his feelings.

Pairing: Harry Hart ( Kingsman) × OC

Warnings: Unrequited love, angst and mention of death.

Word count: 3151

In the dimly lit pub, Harry Hart, code-named Galahad, sat at a corner table with Merlin, Eggsy (code-named Tristan), and Bedivere. The atmosphere was casual, and laughter filled the air as they enjoyed their drinks and shared stories of past missions.

Bedivere excused herself to fetch some drinks from Merlin at the bar, leaving Harry and Eggsy at the table. As they watched her move through the pub, Harry couldn't help but let his gaze linger on her. She was stunning, as always, with a charisma that drew people in effortlessly.

Eggsy noticed Harry's lingering stare and nudged him playfully. "Oi, Harry, you've been eying Bedivere quite a lot tonight. You should confess your feelings, mate."

Harry didn't look away from Bedivere as he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've done that, Eggsy. Multiple times, in fact."

Eggsy raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You're joking, right, Harry? I've known you for ages, and I've never heard you confess to anyone."

Harry finally tore his gaze away from Bedivere and turned to Eggsy with a somewhat melancholic smile. "I've told her, Eggsy, but she always thought I was being charming or simply joking. She never took my words seriously."

Eggsy looked genuinely surprised by this revelation. "Bloody hell, Harry, that's impossible. You're not the type to joke about love."

Harry nodded, his eyes still reflecting a hint of sorrow. "I suppose she never realized my feelings, and I never pushed the issue further. I didn't want to risk our partnership."

The conversation was interrupted when Bedivere and Merlin returned to the table with drinks in their hands. And Harry took the opportunity to show Eggsy that he told the truth about Bedivere not taking his confessions seriously. He thanked Bedivere for the drinks and then turned to her, his voice sincere and full of emotion.

"Bedivere," Harry began, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes, "I love you."

Bedivere, true to her flirtatious and mischievous nature, responded with a playful grin, sitting down next to Eggsy and leaning in closer to Harry. Her voice dripped with flirtatious charm as she replied, "Oh, Harry, keep talking sweet like that, and maybe I'll consider getting you another drink."

Harry's heart sank as Bedivere's response mirrored her previous reactions. He forced a smile, his disappointment hidden behind his usual composed demeanor. It was clear that she still didn't believe his words, despite his sincerity.

Eggsy couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He exchanged a bewildered look with Harry, who, in response, gave him a sad, resigned smile. It was clear that Harry's feelings for Bedivere were genuine, but she continued to treat his confessions as playful banter.

Meanwhile Bedivere was playfully flirting with Merlin. Her attempts to seduce the Scotsman became more of a running joke than serious flirtation. She insisted that she loved the Scottish accent, while Merlin, as always, rejected her advances.

Bedivere, undeterred by Merlin's rejection, leaned in closer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, Merlin, I love a challenge," she purred, her tone dripping with seduction.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice as he replied, "Bedivere, you've been trying to win me over for years. I'm afraid I'm not that easy to conquer."

Bedivere flashed a teasing grin, her charm irresistible even in jest. "Well, Merlin, I've never been one to back down from a challenge."

As Bedivere continued her playful banter with Merlin, another crack formed in Harry's heart. Despite his efforts to express his feelings, she still didn't take him seriously. He sipped his drink, his expression pensive and filled with longing.

Eggsy, noticing the pain in his mentor's eyes, decided to change the subject. He leaned in closer to Bedivere, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, Bedivere, didn't you mention something about an abandoned bulldog puppy on your last mission with Harry?"

Bedivere's face lit up with excitement as she nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! I found the cutest male bulldog puppy during our last mission. He was all alone, and I couldn't leave him behind."

Eggsy grinned, eager to hear more. "What did you name him?"

With a proud smile, Bedivere admitted, "I named him Harry Jr."

Merlin, who had been quietly observing the conversation, looked between Bedivere and Harry, curiosity piqued. "Why Harry Jr., Bedivere?"

Bedivere snorted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because he has Harry's face, of course." Eggsy chuckled at Bedivere's cheeky explanation.

Harry's disbelief was palpable as he questioned Bedivere, "Did you name a dog after me?"

Bedivere, without missing a beat, said as if stating the obvious. "Of course, Harry. We found Harry Jr together, so he's our son."

She then leaned in closer, her voice filled with humor, "And just so you know, next week is your turn to have Harry Jr. You can't run away from your responsibilities as a father, Galahad."

Eggsy couldn't contain his amusement and burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. He playfully teased, "Well, it looks like you two should get married soon since you now have a child together."

Bedivere pointed at Harry with a grin, adding to the jest, "See, Harry? Eggsy thinks it's a good idea. Maybe we should consider it."

Harry couldn't help but shake his head in amusement, the weight of his unrequited feelings momentarily lifted by the playful banter.

As the quartet continued to enjoy their drinks, Harry's thoughts occasionally drifted to the playful banter about marriage and Bedivere naming a bulldog puppy after him. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have Bedivere as his partner in life, not just in missions.

Hours passed, and the pub grew darker as the early hours of the morning approached. Laughter and stories flowed freely, but Harry's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Bedivere. He couldn't shake the idea of what it would be like to call her his own, to wake up beside her every morning.

But then, in a fleeting moment, Bedivere excused herself, stating that she was going to the bathroom. Harry nodded, watching her disappear into the dimly lit pub. Minutes turned into what felt like an eternity, and Bedivere still hadn't returned.

An uneasy feeling settled in Harry's chest. He decided to discreetly get up from the table, making an excuse to Merlin and Eggsy about needing some fresh air. His true intention was to find Bedivere, making sure she was alright.

Harry moved through the crowded pub, glancing around for any sign of Bedivere. His heart pounded in his chest, worry mixing with the anticipation of seeing her again. He turned a corner and froze as he witnessed a sight that shattered his heart.

In a dimly lit corner of the bar, Bedivere was engaged in a passionate kiss with an unknown man. Their bodies pressed close, their hands tangled in each other's hair. Harry's world came crashing down as he watched Bedivere, even in her drunken state, sharing an intimate moment with a stranger.

It was as if a knife had been driven through his heart. The pain was excruciating, and his vision blurred with unshed tears. Despite all his confessions, despite all the missions they had shared, he wasn't even a consideration for Bedivere, not even for a one-night stand.

Harry turned away, his emotions in turmoil. He couldn't bear to watch any longer. He returned to the table, his face a mask of sorrow as he retrieved his coat, murmuring that he was calling it a night.

Eggsy, noticing the change in Harry's demeanor, asked with concern, "Harry, you alright, bruv?"

Harry's voice was heavy with sadness as he replied, "I'll be fine, Eggsy. Just need some rest."

As he left the pub, Harry couldn't shake the pain in his chest. He had watched Bedivere from afar, loving her from the shadows, but it was clear that he would never be more than a friend and partner to her. It was a bitter realization that would haunt him long after that night.

As Harry drove back to his house, the weight of his shattered heart bore down on him like a ton of bricks. The image of Bedivere entangled with that unknown man replayed in his mind, tormenting him with the harsh reality of his unrequited love.

Upon entering his impeccably decorated house, he mechanically poured himself a glass of whiskey, his hands trembling slightly. As he raised the glass to his lips, the bitterness of the alcohol couldn't compare to the bitterness in his heart. He downed the drink in one gulp, hoping it would numb the pain.

But the pain refused to dissipate. It swirled within him, threatening to consume him entirely. In a moment of despair, Harry hurled the empty glass at the wall with a vehement force he rarely exhibited. The glass shattered, and a framed painting of a stuffed butterfly met its demise, falling to the floor in a shower of glass and splintered wood.

The butterfly, a beautiful specimen that had once hung on Harry's wall, was now ruined, its delicate wings torn. Harry had always been fond of lepidopterology, even before his military and Kingsman days. Those butterflies had been his connection to a world he had dreamt of as a child, a world of beauty and serenity that contrasted sharply with the violence of his chosen path.

Now, as he stood amidst the wreckage, he didn't care about the ruined painting or the broken glass. All he cared about was the searing pain in his chest, the realization that Bedivere, the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with, would never return his affections.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he pressed his hands over them, as if trying to hide his vulnerability from the world. He wished he could hate Bedivere, wished he could erase these feelings that had taken root in his heart. But he couldn't. He was trapped, ensnared by emotions he had never experienced before.

In the dimly lit room, with the remnants of his beloved butterfly painting scattered around him, Harry felt utterly defeated. He had always been the composed and unflappable Galahad, but now he was a broken man, his heart shattered like the glass on the floor. And as he sank to his knees, a solitary tear escaped his clenched eyes, a silent testament to the agony of unrequited love.

Harry felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins as the speedboat roared through the dark waters, away from the dangerous island they had infiltrated. Bullets zipped through the air, impacting the water around them, but he and Bedivere had managed to take down the gang of criminals pursuing them. It was a mission that had gone south, but they couldn't afford to let the flash drive they had recovered fall into the wrong hands.

As they sped away from the mansion, Bedivere expertly maneuvered the boat, her skills as a pilot evident in every calculated turn. Harry kept his aim steady, providing cover fire to deter their pursuers.

The urgency of the situation was palpable. They needed to reach the extraction point where Eggsy, aka Tristan, would pick them up in a helicopter. Bedivere's voice filled with a mixture of adrenaline and triumph as she shouted above the deafening noise of the boat's engine, "We're almost there, Galahad!"

But Harry didn't respond immediately. Instead, a sudden, searing pain pierced his chest, causing him to stumble backward. His hand instinctively reached for the source of the pain, which he quickly realized was a gunshot wound.

Bedivere's voice called out in alarm, but it seemed distant as his focus narrowed down to the agony that consumed him. The world around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, and the urgency of the situation intensified.

"Harry!" Bedivere's voice finally broke through, and he watched as she abandoned the throttle to rush to his side. Her eyes were wide with alarm, and Harry could see genuine fear etched across her face.

Panic gripped him as he struggled to breathe. Blood stained his once-pristine white shirt, and he knew that he was in dire straits. Bedivere reached for her glasses, trembling fingers activating the communication system in a desperate attempt to contact Merlin or Eggsy. Yet, the interference from the island and their remote location made it impossible to establish a connection.

Desperation clawed at Harry as his vision blurred at the edges. He could feel the life draining from him, and his voice came out weak, filled with apology. "Bedivere..."

But Bedivere's voice, filled with determination, cut through his pain. She refused to let him give in to despair, and her words were a lifeline in the storm of agony. "Don't you dare die on me, Galahad."

With trembling hands, Bedivere unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the source of his injury. It was a gunshot wound that had torn through his chest, and blood continued to ooze from it. She tore off her own suit vest, pressing it firmly against the wound in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding, her fingers slick with Harry's blood.

As Bedivere worked to keep him stable, Harry couldn't help but admire her unwavering determination and strength. He knew she was fighting against time, just as much as she was fighting to save him. His breaths grew shallow, his strength waning.

But even in his weakened state, Harry managed to interject with words that held more weight than he could have ever imagined. His voice, though barely more than a whisper, conveyed the sincerity he had held back for so long. "Bedivere... I'm sorry..."

Tears welled up in Bedivere's eyes as she shook her head, her voice quivering with emotion. "No, Harry, don't say that. You're going to be fine. You hear me?"

Bedivere's hands trembled as she tried to stop the bleeding, her fingers stained with his blood. Desperation fueled her, and she attempted to contact Merlin or Eggsy once more, hoping for a response that never came. Panic gnawed at her composure, and she felt as though time itself was slipping away.

Harry, struggling to maintain consciousness, found himself drawn back to the present by Bedivere's voice. She was trying to reassure him, to keep him grounded in this desperate moment. His voice, filled with the weight of his emotions, broke through the haze. "Bedivere... Eggsy... won't make it..."

Realization struck Bedivere like a lightning bolt. She knew their extraction was on a tight schedule, and Eggsy might not arrive in time. Her gaze darted around the remote sea, her mind racing for a solution.

Harry felt the world around him blur as he struggled to stay conscious. The gunshot wound in his chest throbbed with excruciating pain, but what pained him even more was the thought of leaving Bedivere behind, alone on that speeding boat.

He could hear Bedivere's voice calling out to him, a desperate plea to stay alive, and it fueled his determination to hold on. He watched Bedivere desperately searching the sea for a solution, her face etched with fear and determination.

But he couldn't let this moment pass without confessing his true feelings. With a trembling hand, stained with his own blood, he reached out to Bedivere, gently touching her cheek to draw her attention. His voice was barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the cacophony of chaos around them.

"Bedivere," he began, his gaze unwavering as he looked deeply into her eyes. "I love you."

For a moment, Bedivere's frantic movements halted as she locked eyes with Harry. His words held a weight she had never heard before, a sincerity that cut through the chaos of their dire situation. But old habits and doubts still lingered in her mind.

Bedivere shook her head slightly, tears glistening in her eyes as she tried to respond, "Harry, please, don't say..."

Harry's grip on her cheek tightened slightly, his voice filled with urgency as he interrupted her. "No, Bedivere, listen to me. I've loved you for years. I'm not joking, not being charming. I mean it with every fiber of my being."

His eyes pleaded with her, begging for a glimmer of belief, for the affirmation he had longed to hear from her. He knew she didn't love him back, but in this desperate moment, he needed her to lie, to say the words that could bring him some peace.

"Please," he whispered, his voice trembling with the vulnerability of his confession. "Just... lie to me. Tell me you love me."

Bedivere's tears fell freely as she shook her head, her voice choked with emotion. "Harry, you're not going to die. You have so much to live for, more missions, Harry Jr..."

The mention of their bulldog, their shared "son," brought a faint smile to Harry's lips despite the pain. He was grateful for the memories they had created together, even if it was as unconventional as naming a dog after him.

"Harry Jr," he repeated with a soft chuckle, his hand still cupping Bedivere's cheek. "Our son."

But the pain was relentless, and Harry knew his time was slipping away. His voice grew weaker as he continued, his gaze never leaving Bedivere's. "Please, Bedivere, just once... say it. Say you love me."

Bedivere's tears fell onto Harry's hand, and her heart ached at his plea. She couldn't bear to lie to him, to give him false hope. But in this moment, as the speedboat raced through treacherous waters, she couldn't deny him the solace he sought.

With a trembling voice and a heart heavy with unspoken emotions, Bedivere whispered, "I love you, Harry."

Harry's eyes held a fleeting moment of peace as those three words finally reached his ears. It was all he had ever wanted to hear from her. As his strength waned further, he whispered back, "Thank you, Bedivere."

Harry closed his eyes, the world around him fading into darkness. Bedivere's voice sounded distant, echoing in his fading consciousness. He knew he was leaving her alone, and that thought pained him deeply. But at the same time, he couldn't bear to stay awake any longer, for he knew he was dying.

In those final moments, fear was absent, replaced by a profound sense of peace. Hearing Bedivere say those three words, even though he knew deep down they were a lie, brought him a happiness he had never known. It was enough to make him content, to let him die in her arms, in the arms of the woman he had always loved.

And so, with Bedivere's voice as his final anchor, Harry's world went black, his heart at ease, knowing that he had bared his soul and received a fleeting, beautiful lie in return.

..... Part two?

#harry hart #kingsman secret service #harry hart x reader #kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #eggsy unwin #merlin #Harry Hart x oc #colin firth x reader #colin firth

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sketchesandcoolart · 3 months ago

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New Tangled Fanfic

Hello, Tangled fans.

Even though it has now been 4-and-a-half years since Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure has ended, the show still has a big impact on the fandom. However, there has been one question that has been in my head since the show ended: What would happened if Cassandra didn’t reform? I had even made a post about it back in 2021. After some thinking, I decided to make a fanfic about that theory loosely based on the A Twisted Tale novels that are centered in alternative universes of the Disney films. I also thought that it would be fun to write an “what if” fanfic about a Disney show. However, it might take a while since I am still working on other fanfics, including the current Tangled fic, Varian and Vex: The Mystery of the Crystal Caves. So far, the title is called Tangled: Wither & Decay - A Twisted Fanfic and here is the summary:

What if Cassandra betrayed Rapunzel again?

Zhan Tiri has finally been defeated, the sundrop and moonstone have been united, and Corona is finally safe…at least that's what Rapunzel thought.

Out of nowhere, Cassandra managed to grab ahold of the infused opal and claim its power for herself! After a failed attempt to stop the fallen handmaiden gets them banished to a faraway land, Rapunzel, Eugene, and the gang must hurry back to the kingdom to save it from further destruction. During their journey, the group will learn even more about the magic that enhances the gemstone’s user and the consequences it holds in the wrong hands.

However, as time passes on, tensions rise between Rapunzel and her friends as the princess’s leadership is tested throughout not only their expedition, but for the future of Corona as well. Meanwhile, Cassandra plans on expanding her conquest towards the entire world.

Will Rapunzel stop her former friend before it’s too late?

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mamuzzy · 4 months ago

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Get to know me tag game

Rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with.

@insertmeaningfulusername and @hastalavistabyebye tagged me for this, thank you ^^

Favorite color : Every shades of red

Last song : Lopott könyvek - Leander Kills

Currently reading : RepComm for my blogging

Currently watching: Watashi no Shiawase na Kekkon (My Happy Marriage)

Currently playing: Heroes of Might and Magic V

Currently craving : A pocket dimension where I can sleep undisturbed and time is not affected

Coffee or tea : Normally green tea, but I can't function now without energy drink :(((

A hobby you would like to try : scuba diving. And practicing skateboard more but I'm too shy do it on the streets...

An AU/Alternate universe you've been plotting for : Plague Tale but with the Coruscant Guard. I just like the idea that the planet unleashes hordes of eldricht rats on citizens and the Guard has to deal with it. I don't think I write a fic about it, but like to think about it.

NPT: @floaromaxtowns @starwarsanthropology @the-starry-seas @stardustloki @divine-valley

@adhd-coyote @five-oh-thirst @mlgssy @alabyte

I tried to tag people I didn't see lately and new moots <3

#tag game

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 8 months ago

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Hello! Is it okay to request Reader in Pokemon Legend: Arceus?

Reader is Clan Leader, not in Diamond or Pearl, Clan named the Platinum Clan and that worhips Giratina

This Clan used to be the original (and probably oldest) a conflict happens that now split in two and that is the Diamond clan and Pearl Clan.

The Platinum clan has now forgotten at the current age of the Hisui yet its still standing and hidden away

Reader's has the Disney belle like personality, caring and knowledgeable, and their the same age as Adaman and/or Irida.

-Tales and rumors were scattered around Hisui about a group, much like the Pearl and Diamond Clans that operated, serving as wardens, protectors against Pokemon that were too wild for normal people to handle.

-Very few knew more than a rumor or two, and many believed they were just that, rumors and stories, but those few who knew more told of another clan, the one that gave birth, to put it simply, to the other two clans, the Platinum Clan.

-The Platinum Clan originally existed years ago, long before the age of the Hisui of today, worshipping a powerful Pokemon, one they revered as a god, Giratina.

-The clan was the birthplace of the largest conflict known to history, at least to those who knew the history, when opposing individuals in the clan argued over their lord, and with it, they disbanded, becoming the rivals of today.

-There was one who knew of the Platinum Clan very well, knowledge that had been passed down from generation to generation, as the current leader of the Platinum Clan.

-You worshipped Giratina, much like your ancestors, making them proud, leaving him offerings and praying to him. It didn’t matter to you if you were one of the few in your clan, you kept the old ways alive, you wouldn’t let their memory die out.

-You were a courier, working between the different clans and Jubilife Village, working mainly for the Galaxy Expedition Team, you handled delivering letters and reports, as well as supplies between the different areas of Hisui.

-Many regarded you as odd, as you would go out into that dangerous world, where wild Pokemon could easily attack you, without a guard or even a Pokemon to call your own!

-You didn’t mind, as the wild Pokemon were friendly to you, most of the time, as you respected them, you treated them with kindness, minding their space if they wanted space, and many knew of the witchcraft you performed in the form of head pats and scratches!! Many told tales to their other Pokemon friends, and they wanted to try it for themselves, so it wasn’t that odd to see you surrounded by Pokemon at any given time, but you were never worried or scared.

-You were walking along, traveling to a meeting point with both Adaman and Irida, where the three of you planned to meet, when you slowed, coming across a cemetery, one that had been reclaimed by nature, being long forgotten.

-This was another thing that many thought you were odd for, always going to and exploring cemeteries! And to do it with a smile on your face made everything worse in the eyes of others!!

-You pulled your pack off, finding a large tree in the center of the cemetery and pulled out several berries you had, most of them were gifts from Pokemon, payment for their affections they so adore.

-You prayed quietly to Giratina, wishing for others to be safe, and for him to guide the souls of those who were lost to where they needed to be.

-As you took off, hurrying so Irida wouldn’t scold you for being late again, you missed a distortion in the tree, as if something was peeking through, as the berries almost instantly vanished.

-It had seen you before, watching you grow, from the shadows of an alternate universe, the one that it called it’s prison. It saw how hard you worked, and how hard and devoted you prayed to him, and your selfless prayers, to help others, made this being grow soft, such a kind human was worthy to protect.

-You had no ideas that only a week later, a massive rift in space, above Mount Coronet appeared, altering Hisui as everyone knew it.

#pokemon #giratina #hisui

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lotusflowerbreakingthesurface · 1 month ago

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—𝓛𝓸𝓽𝓾𝓼𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓧𝓲𝓮 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰—

Finally, I finish it after working for so long (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ). I think I might be crazy to do something like this, but honestly I'm so forgetful that I want to keep things on track and sometimes curiosity gets a hold on me (｡>﹏<). And so, here is the "Tags Page" that is slightly different from the desktop version (which is much more simple, but since there is tumblr limitation, just go there for more complete links).

Since Chinese fandom culture is different from Western fandoms, I tried to compile the tags, sorted them out and found the equivalences. It's far from perfect, but if you're interested you can take a look below the cut. Basically, it's just a compilation of tags and keywords from PingXie fandom (and maybe you will find them in other fandoms too). At any rate, I hope it can be helpful (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

The banner/divider original pictures by 刘巴布

Note: This post will be updated occasionally, so no reblog, but I'll put it in pinned post. If there is any mistake, feel free to tell me. Thank you.

Last updated: 23/10/2024

[(x)—no tags; (#)—coming soon]

✧ 架空向 (Alternate Universe/AU) #au

✧ 原著向 (Canon Compliant) #canon compliant

╰✦ if线 (What-If Scenario/Canon Divergence) #canon divergence

╰✦ Canon Rewrite #canon rewrite

╰✦ 半架空 (Semi-AU) x

✧ 古风/仙侠 (Ancient Style/Xianxia) #ancient style/xianxia au

╰✦ 古穿今 (Ancient and Modern) #ancient and modern setting

✧ 土匪 (Bandits & Outlaws) #bandit/outlaw au

✧ 大逃杀 (Battle Royale) #battle royale au

✧ 蛋糕叉子 (Cake & Fork) #cake & fork

✧ 咖啡店 (Coffee Shops & Cafés) #coffee shop au

✧ 校园 (College/University) #college/university au

✧ 刑侦/黑道 (Criminal Investigation/Underworld/Mob/Triad) #criminal investigation/underworld au

✧ 克苏鲁/克系 (Cthulhu/Cthulhu Mythos) #cthulhu au

✧ 赛博朋克 (Cyberpunk) #cyberpunk au

✧ 电竞/网游 (E-Sports/Online Games) #esports/online games au

✧ 童话 (Fairy Tale) #fairy tale au

✧ 草原 (Grassland) #grassland au

✧ 黑客 (Hacker) #hacker au

✧ 高中 (High School) #high school au

✧ 历史/近代 (Historical/Late Modern Period) #historical setting

✧ 修仙 (Immortal Cultivation) #immortal cultivation au

✧ 星际 (Interstellar/Space) #interstellar/space au

✧ 幼儿园 (Kindergarten) #kindergarten au

✧ 黑手党 (Mafia) #mafia au

✧ 医生pa (Medical) #medical au

✧ 人鱼/鲛人 (Mermaid/Merman/Merpeople) #merpeople au

✧ 江湖 (Martial Arts) x

╰✦ 武侠 (Wuxia) #wuxia au

✧ 军旅 (Military/Army) #military au

✧ 现代 (Modern Setting) #modern au

✧ 职场 (Office/Workplace) #office/workplace

✧ 监狱 (Prison) #prison au

✧ 民国 (Republican Era/Republic of China) #republican era setting

✧ 皇族/皇室 (Royalty/Imperial) #royalty/imperial au

✧ 祭品 (Sacrifice) #sacrifice au

✧ 谍战 (Secret Agent/Spy) #secret agent/spy au

✧ 娱乐圈 (Show Business/ShowBiz/Entertainment Industry) #show business/showbiz au

✧ 灵魂伴侣 (Soulmates) #soulmates au

✧ 包养 (Sugar Baby) #sugar baby au

✧ 无限流 (Unlimited Flow/Infinite Flow) #unlimited flow

✧ 吸血鬼 (Vampire) #vampire au

✧ 狼人 (Werewolf) #werewolf au

✧ 野生动物保育 (Wildlife Conservation) #wildlife conservation au

✧ 末世丧尸 (Zombie Apocalypse) #zombie apocalypse au

╰✦ 废土 (Post-Apocalyptic/Wasteland) #wasteland au

✧ A/B/O (Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics) #a/b/o

╰✦ E/A/B/O (Enigma/Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics) #e/a/b/o

✧ 年龄差 (Age Difference) x

╰✦ 年操 (Age Changes) x

╰✦ 大瓶小邪/年上 (Older Xiaoge × Younger Wu Xie/Older Top) #older top/gong

╰✦ 小瓶大邪/年下 (Younger Xiaoge × Older Wu Xie/Younger Top) #younger top/gong

✧ 失忆 (Amnesia) #amnesia

✧ 古代 (Ancient Times) x

✧ 兽化/拟物 (Animal Characteristic/Transformation/Inanimate Objects) #animal characteristic/transformation

✧ 黑化 (Blackening/Dark Character) #blackening/dark character

✧ 相亲 (Blind Date) x

✧ 不doi就出不去的房间/不做就出不去的房间 (Can't Escape the Room Unless/Trapped Together) #trapped together

✧ 竹马 (Childhood Friends) #childhood friends

╰✦ 青梅竹马 (Childhood Sweethearts) x

✧ 养成 (Cultivation/Raising Spouse/Partner) #raising spouse

✧ 解毒 (Detoxification) x

✧ 狗血 (Dog Blood/Cliche Story) x

✧ 先do后爱 (Do It First Love Later) #do it first love later

✧ 喝醉 (Drunkenness) #drunkenness

✧ 双洁 (Dual Virgins) x

✧ 敌人变爱人 (Enemy to Lover) #enemy to lover

✧ 驱魔 (Exorcism) x

✧ 初见 (First Meetings) x

✧ 初体验/初次 (First Time) #first time

✧ 论坛体/直播体 (Forum/Live Streaming/Format: Streaming) #forum style/live streaming

✧ 朋友变恋人 (Friend to Lover) x

✧ 炮友 (Friend With Benefits) #friend with benefits

✧ 团宠 (Group Pet/Everyone's Favorite) x

✧ 蛊/下蛊 (Gu/Curse/Poison/Witchcraft/Bewitched) #gu/witchcraft

✧ 花吐症 (Hanahaki Disease) #hanahaki disease

✧ 天授 (Heavenly Gift/Tianshou) #heavenly gift/tianshou

✧ 户口 (Household Registration) x

✧ 吃醋/醋 (Jealous) #jealously

✧ 一见钟情 (Love at First Sight) x

✧ 寿命 (Life Span) #life span

✧ 婚书 (Marriage Certificate) x

✧ 见家长 (Meeting the Parents) #meeting the parents

✧ 乌龙/误会 (Misunderstandings) #misunderstandings

✧ 音乐向 (Music) #music fic

✧ 双向暗恋 (Mutual Pining/Two-Way Secret Love) #mutual pining

✧ 一夜情/419 (One-Night Stand) x

✧ 前世今生 (Past and Present Life) x

✧ 早恋 (Puppy Love) x

✧ 偏执 (Paranoia) x

✧ 创伤后应激障碍 (PTSD) x

✧ 纯爱 (Pure Love) x

✧ 报复 (Revenge) x

✧ 规则怪�� (Rules-Based Urban Ghost Story) #ghost story

✧ 墨水瓶/腹黑张起灵 (Scheming/Black-Bellied Xiaoge) #black-bellied xiaoge

✧ 暗恋 (Secret Love) #secret love

✧ 哨向/向哨 (Sentinel & Guide) #sentinel & guide

✧ 蛇毒 (Snake Venom) #snake venom

✧ 灵魂互换 (Soul Swap) x

╰✦ 互换身体 (Body Swap) #body swap

✧ 直男 (Straight Man) x

╰✦ 掰弯/直掰弯 (Straight to Gay) #straight to gay

✧ 强强/双强 (Strong & Strong Couple) #double strong

✧ 系统 (System) #system setting

✧ 藏 (Tibet) x

✧ 穿越/重生 (Time Travel/Transmigration/Rebirth/Reincarnation) #time travel/rebirth

✧ 暗恋/暗恋变明恋 (Unrequited Love/Requited Unrequited Love) x

✧ 窗户纸 (Window Paper/Pierce the Window Paper/Ambiguous to Clear Relationship) #window paper

✧ 动作与冒险 (Action/Adventure) #action/adventure

✧ 虐 (Angst) #angst

╰✦ 先虐后甜/虐但he (Angst with a Happy Ending) #angst with a happy ending

╰✦ 高虐 (Heavy Angst) #heavy angst

╰✦ 微虐/小虐 (Light Angst) #light angst

✧ 甜饼 (Fluff) #fluff

╰✦ 日常甜饼 (Domestic Fluff) #domestic fluff

╰✦ 玻璃糖/糖刀 (Thought it was a knife, but it was actually sugar/Fluff & Angst/Glass Candy) #angst but fluff

╰✦ 玻璃渣 (Thought it was sugar, but it was actually a knife/Glass Shards) #fluff but angst

✧ 奇幻/神话 (Fantasy/Mythology) #fantasy/mythology

╰✦ 幻想元素 (Fantasy Elements) #fantasy elements

╰✦ 西幻 (Western Fantasy) #western fantasy

╰✦ 奇幻 (Xuanhuan/Fantasy) x

✧ 未来/科幻 (Future/Science Fiction) #future/science fiction

✧ 恐怖/灵异 (Horror/Supernatural) #horror/supernatural

✧ 喜剧 (Humor/Comedy) #humor/comedy

✧ 伤害与安抚 (Hurt/Comfort) #hurt/comfort

✧ 浪漫 (Romance) #romance

✧ 正剧/剧情 (Serious Drama/Tragicomedy/Drama) #drama

✧ 悬疑解谜/悬疑推理/神秘 (Suspense/Mystery/Puzzle) #suspense/mystery

✧ 悲剧 (Tragedy) #tragedy

✧ 无明显感情线 (Ambiguous Relationship) #ambiguous relationship

✧ 婚前婚后 (Before & After Marriage) #marriage fic

╰✦ 包办婚姻 (Arranged Marriage) #arranged marriage

╰✦ 逼婚 (Forced Marriage) #forced marriage

╰✦ 冥婚/阴婚 (Ghost Marriage) #ghost marriage

╰✦ 先婚后爱 (Marry First Love Later) #marry first love later

✧ 兄弟/亲人 (Brothers/Family Relationships) x

╰✦ 骨科/伪骨科 (Inc*st "Real Brothers"/Pseudo-Inc*st "Pseudo-Brothers") #real brothers/pseudo brothers

╰✦ 伪父子/养父子 (Pseudo-Father and Son/Adoptive Father and Son) #pseudo father and son

✧ 建立关系 (Developing Relationship) #developing relationship

✧ 已交往设定/已确定的关系 (Established Relationship) #established relationship

✧ 假装情侣 (Fake/Pretend Relationship) #fake/pretend relationship

✧ 慢热 (Slow Burn) #slow burn

✧ 师生恋 (Teacher-Student Relationship) #teacher & student relationship

✧ BDSM/Dom & Sub/DS Play #ds play

✧ 生子/男孕/孕期 (Childbirth/Mpreg/Pregnancy) #mpreg

✧ 下药 (Drugging) x

╰✦ 春药 (Aphrodisiacs) x

╰✦ 西班牙大苍蝇 (Spanish Fly) x

✧ 半强迫/半强制 (Dubious Consent/Dub-Con) #dubcon

✧ 强制 (Forced/Non-Con) x

✧ 强制爱 (Forced Love) x

✧ 双性转/百合 (Gender Changes {Both Xiaoge & Wu Xie}/GL) #pingxie gender changes

✧ 囚禁/囚 (Imprisonment) #imprisonment

✧ 双性邪 (Intersex Wu Xie) #intersex wu xie

✧ 发情期 (Mating Cycles/In Heat/Estrus Period) x

╰✦ 易感期 (Rut/Susceptible Period) x

╰✦ 结合热 (Bonding Heat/Combination Heat in Sentinel & Guide AU) x

✧ 墓室play (Tomb Play) #tomb play

✧ 女装 (Women's Clothing) x

✧ 阿坤/坤狗文学 (Ah Kun/KunGou "Dog" aka Ah Kun/Wu Xie) #zhang qiling (ah kun)

✧ 张秃 (Bald Zhang) #zhang qiling (prof. zhang/bald zhang)

✧ 张家 (Zhang Family) #zhang family's appearance

✧ 反苏文 (Anti-Mary Sue/Villain-Homewrecker OC/Anti-Dream Girl) x

✧ 掉马甲/马甲暴露 (Dropping the Vest/Identity Reveal) #identity reveal

✧ 小妈文学 (Falling in Love With the Stepmother) x

✧ 公路文学 (Falling in Love on the Road) #falling in love on the road

✧ 破镜重圆 (Getting Back Together/Reconciliation/[idiom] A Shattered Mirror Put Back Together) #getting back together

✧ 缺德文学 (Immoral/Unethical) x

✧ 一吴所知 (Oblivious Wu Xie; a pun of idiom “一无所知” [not knowing anything at all]) #what wu xie knows

✧ 带球跑 (Running Away With the Ball/Running Away With the Baby) #running away with the baby

✧ 偷狗文学 (Stealing the Dog/Zhang Qiling Takes Away Wu Xie From the Wu Family) x

✧ 追妻火葬场/追妻文学 (Wife-Chasing Crematorium/Suffered a Lot to Win Someone Back After Dumping Them) #wife chasing crematorium

✧ 授權翻譯 (Authorized Translation) #authorized translation

✧ BE (Bad Ending) #bad ending

✧ 角色研究 (Character Study) x

✧ 清水 (Clear Water/No Smut) x

✧ 联文 (Collaboration Fic) #collaboration fic

✧ 沙雕 (Crack Fic) #crack fic

✧ 双视角 (Dual POV) #dual pov

✧ 双时间线 (Dual Timeline) #dual timeline

✧ Fanfic Series #fanfic series

✧ Major Character Death x

✧ Medium Fic {6-20 Chapters} #medium fic

✧ 缺失片段 (Missing Scene) #missing scene

✧ Multichapter/长篇文 (Long Fic) {≥ 20 Chapters} #multichapter/long fic

✧ Oneshot #oneshot

✧ 连载 (On-Going/Unfinished) #on going/unfinished

✧ Open Ending x

✧ Outsider POV #outsider pov

✧ PWP #pwp

✧ 虐文 (Sadistic/Abuse/Cruel Fic) x

✧ Sequel Fic x

✧ 短篇文 (Short Fic) {1-5 Chapters} #short fic

✧ 甜文 (Sweet Fic) #sweet fic

✧ 临时角色死亡 (Temporary Character Death) x

✧ 双结局 (Two Endings) x

✧ 张起灵视角/哥视角 (Xiaoge POV) #zhang qiling/xiaoge pov

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#pingxie #tags #pingxie tags list #chinese fandom #dmbj #daomu biji

11 notes · View notes