#and I don’t think it’s been like many months since he ended that engagement or anything

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #57

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | FC43

summary — in which franco’s just been thrown into the glamorous world of formula 1, and as his slightly jealous partner, you don’t take all the people flirting with him too lightly

pairings — franco colapinto x princess!reader (established relationship)

pronouns — none explicitly, fem presenting

word count — 2090

note — i have another princess! reader thats been in the drafts for like two months but this one lowkey wins

YOU WEREN’T NECESSARILY THE jealous type. there were sprinkles of it growing up: jealous of those who had a normal life, jealous of the other kids who got to do whatever they wanted, and jealous of how no one seemed to want to hang out with you because you couldn’t really bring much to the table. 

you had a good life and a good upbringing, but you never really understood any of it until you were midway through your teenage years. that’s when the weight of being in a royal family hit. but even then, and still now, why did it matter so much when your older brother was the crown prince anyway? and how his eventual children would be in line for the throne before you? 

you weren’t jealous of that at least, despite only having turned twenty-one this year, you didn’t want the throne at all. you wanted to go do things, see things, not have more responsibilities held over your head. that was the life your brother wanted, a life he was already accepting; it certainly wasn’t for you.

meeting franco colapinto for the first time at thirteen was probably the reason your whole trajectory changed. he was so carefree, happy, free to do as he pleased — you couldn't do that. you couldn’t remember why you had ended up at some karting championship in copenhagen now, but you were glad you did. you met him there, talked to him there, and he embarrassed himself with not knowing how to greet you there. you’d giggled, telling him he didn’t actually have to greet you with a bow like how they do it in the movies, and that was that.

you’d met him again at fifteen, and he hadn’t exactly learnt from his past mistakes . . . not that you minded. uttering a “i did some research” with a cheeky wink and a kiss to the back of your hand, your face had flushed a pink so bright that it had your mother thinking you’d come down with a sudden fever. it was sweet, he’d slipped you his email on a small tear-off bit of paper that he had prepared ahead of time, and you’d replied with the number that directed to the landline beside your bedside table. six months later, you were dating. 

YOU considered that maybe there was a little bit of jealousy bubbling up in your stomach when franco got his seat in formula one. you were so excited that he had finally achieved his dream that you’d turned the cottage you lived in together into a mini celebration: you made breakfast with a side of wine, then hopped on a plane to buenos aires so that he could go see his family about it. 

the one thing you had not expected was just how much he would be loved in the sport . . . by teenage girls. and girls your age. and journalists. and literally anyone who thought he was attractive. he had personality and was so much fun to talk to, but oh my god you did not think that the whole of the internet would start livetweeting about how they wanted to fuck him. 

in all fairness, they didn’t know about the two of you. it was fairly easy to hide when they had such a secluded cottage on royal grounds. your relationship was coming into its seventh year soon, you’d gotten engaged in january, and somehow it was still a secret with how much you two were public figures. 

it had been a few races too many now, and if anything, it had only gotten worse. maybe you were jealous because you hadn’t seen franco since he left for singapore, and the mexican grand prix had just ended. the only thing stopping you from going to instagram and posting a shit ton of photos and videos of you and franco together was the fact that you had just landed in brazil to see him now that you weren’t busy. 

you’d gotten good at the whole lowkey thing after years laying low as a royal trying to go out on dates with franco. all you had to do was toss on one of franco’s hoodies, pull the hood up over your head, and make sure you walked inconspicuously on your own. the bodyguards you had to have with you all dressed super casually also and trailed behind and in front a reasonable distance away until you were outside the airport and loading your bags into the back of a range rover. 

you dropped the hood the second you hopped into the backseat of the car, immediately launching yourself at your fiancé before the door was shut. franco laughed as he peppered delicate kisses across your face, each one more frantic than the last like you would disappear if he were to let go. you vaguely heard the door shut with thanks to the bodyguard walking around to the front seat of the car, and you made a mental note to thank him the moment you were all caught up with franco. “i missed you,” his tone was heavily accented in that voice that you loved so much, that voice that sounded so much better in person than it did in terrible quality over the phone.

“missed you more,” you mumbled softly, breathing in the subtle note of vanilla from his soap underneath the familiar cologne he always wore. you knew that the sooner you fastened your seatbelt, the faster you’d be driven to the hotel, so you hastily clipped it across you and snuggled back into franco’s side. “we are having words when we get out of this car,” you mumbled.

franco’s eyebrows furrowed, “we are?” he asked, and he felt you nod against his side. “right, we are.”

IT WAS NICE TO feel normal again. being with franco equalled feeling like you were a completely other person. you kept him separate and would be until you were married — he obviously didn’t accompany you to family events or royal appearances because you’d worked a deal out with your parents years ago to keep things private just until you were absolutely sure you were spending your life with him. his first public appearance would be your january wedding under glittering snowflakes. 

you were ready to break normal. the feeling had been crawling under your skin for months now, ever since he was called overnight out to italy and kickstarted his new career in being an international heartthrob who everyone was convinced was a playboy bachelor. he was nothing of the sort when he was currently cuddling into your side in his hotel room, half-asleep and trailing his fingertips up and down your thigh. 

“i don’t like seeing what people say about you online, you know,” you dared to finally bring up, months of jealousy trying to break free in your tone. franco could hear remnants of it clear as day, even in his tired state. “i can’t even say anything.”

he knew you weren’t dependent on your phone, it was only ever when he was away that you constantly had it on you to call, text and check F1 updates on twitter. at this point, the whole reason you had a phone was for him. of course you were in tune with what people were saying about him online. did you enjoy watching the tiktok edits people made? yes. that did not help your case in the slightest, though. “aw, baby,” he hummed, “what would you say?”

“that you’re my fiancé,” the label was still so new, so warm across your tongue. franco’s smile was immediate at the sound of it. “not theirs.”

“aw,” he cooed, “is someone a little jealous?” you groaned instantly, moving to push away from him. franco quickly sprung like some kind of trap, suddenly so awake as he wrapped his strong arms around you to hold you in place. “you are!” he laughed. “you are jealous!”

“. . . maybe,” you admitted, caving a little quicker than you liked. “it is hard not to be, no? look at all the attention you get from everyone else while i sit at home and have to watch.”

it had always been a difficult situation, he experienced the same jealousy on occasion, too. whenever you’d go to events with your family and were greeted by other nobles close in age to you or you were overly polite at fundraisers and celebrations, he saw it all when he turned on the tv or simply went online. it was so simple: your relationship wasn’t public – really, it was your own collective fault.

“we won’t have to deal with this for much longer,” he mumbled, and you felt each exhale brush through your hair; a soothing lullaby for you only. “january isn’t too far—”

“i don’t want to wait,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could even think about them. “i know we talked about it . . . but what if we just— just, i don’t know,” you stuttered uncharacteristically, shyly. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this way. “i don’t know.”

“you do,” franco kept his voice low, a gentle murmur that had you melting into his embrace impossibly further. “talk to me.”

your mouth fell open and then closed, then did it once more. you supposed it couldn’t be anymore embarrassing than that one time you had to admit that you liked him in front of four middle-aged bodyguards in a playground. that had been bad. this should be nothing. “i don’t want to hide anymore.” franco remained silent. “i want to hold your hand like . . . like how lily and alex get to,” it was the first example to come to mind, having seen them through lily’s account on instagram last grand prix. “but,” you quickly added, “if you don’t want to—”

“of course i want to,” franco chuckled to himself, “i wanted the privacy for you more than i wanted it for me.” he admitted it in a way that you knew wasn’t meant to make you feel guilty, but you couldn’t really help but feel your heart sink a little in your chest. 

franco could feel the sudden drop, your souls intertwined long ago. “. . . that sounded terrible, i know,” he poked his fingers into your side, pulling gasped giggles from you. “but you’re technically more famous than i am,” there was subtle tease in his tone among the seriousness, “i wanted what was best for you, you know that.”

“mhm,” you hummed in thought, tapping your fingers against his. “i just don’t think i can wait anymore. i want to watch you in person, especially while you are at williams now. i don’t want to miss it.” you were his second biggest fan behind his family, and who knows when he would get the chance to drive a formula one car again? if you missed this now, you’d never forgive yourself for it. 

“okay,” he nodded, very chill about the whole thing. it wasn’t surprising, you knew he didn’t mind in the slightest. exposing your relationship just meant that he got to show you off to the world as if he were the luckiest man alive. showing you off to his close friends and family wasn’t enough anymore, and here you were giving him the chance. “how do you want to do this?”

the one thing you sadly couldn’t do was just show up with him when he was at the track. you sadly had to have at least two people with you for protection as your parents wished, and so more arrangements would have to be made and it would be a whole bigger deal than it should be. 

“hm . . .” you thought, trailing off as your hand slowly inched towards where your phone was sitting on the bedside table. “i have an idea.”

“can you do it later?” franco asked with a tired smile, sitting up to pull the blankets over the two of you and settling his neck to rest against your neck. “i want your attention now.”

“mhm, my love,” you turned your head to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, his soft curls tickling your lips. “get some sleep, i love you.”

“i love you more,” his voice reverberated against your skin, rumbling through into your chest. “so, so much more . . .” he trailed off into slow breathing, falling into an instantaneous sleep — the sleep he only managed to get when you were tucked safely into his side.

princessofdenmark: can u guys pls stop hitting on my fiancé now

[ambers-archive]

got love struck ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .˚ ✧ ˚　

in which spencer wants your anniversary to be perfect, but everyday is perfect with you. word count: 2.1k cw: purple scarf cameo, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending, established relationship. (english isn't my first language, minimal proofread!) pt1 what if all i need is you (can be read as standalone)

Spencer closed the tab on his computer, a frustrated scowl forming on his lips. For days, he’d been scouring the internet, spending sleepless nights hunched over his desk, searching for the perfect anniversary gift for you. It was your first year together, and everything had to be perfect.

But nothing felt right. Every idea he considered was quickly dismissed. He shut his eyes, trying to quiet his overthinking mind.

You two met at his favorite coffee place, he noticed you right away when he realized you stole his seat. 

You had yourself perched against the chair nuzzled against the rest of the wall. 

And after a week of ogling you across the room he finally got enough courage to start a conversation over a book you were reading. Then with shaky fingers and some mumbling he finally had the courage to ask you out, suggesting a tour of the city since you just moved.

Spencer knew his demanding work schedule wasn’t easy on you. You were so patient, understanding, and kind—perhaps too kind, he often thought. Canceled dinner dates, postponed trips, missed laughs, and missed love were all too common. Yet despite it all, you always met him with a reassuring smile.

“I know you’re busy saving lives,” You had told him once, as the two of you cuddled in bed after the third missed date in a row. He hadn’t had anything better to offer than a string of apologies, and he feared one day it wouldn't be enough.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s got you so upset?” Morgan asked, his voice pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

Spencer took a moment to collect himself before turning to Morgan. “I’m trying to figure out a good anniversary gift for her.”

In a room full of profilers he didn’t think they’d be so keen on his social cues, but of course they noticed him constantly fidgeting and sneaking quick glances at his phone. 

Emily was the first to find out about you.

The teasing lasted months.

Penelope was rushing toward his desk with her tea in one hand and Morgan’s coffee in the other.

“You have to go all out!” Garcia exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. “Chocolates, flowers—oh, please tell me you’ve got the whole day planned!”

“Calm down, baby girl,” Morgan laughed, taking his coffee. “I’m sure our genius over here has something in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “I want to make it special since it’s our first anniversary, but I just don’t know what she’d like.”

“Well, what are her love languages?” Penelope asked, ready to unleash her vast knowledge of relationships.

“I think it’s quality time,” Spencer replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about you. “She’s always engaged in our conversations, making strong eye contact, putting her phone away, asking questions. She also lingers after dates.”

He paused, recalling the moments you’d linger on your doorstep after he drove you home, the way you’d breathe him in after a kiss, your forehead resting against his. “She never seems in a rush to leave, like she values every moment we spend together.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. “There you go, pretty boy. Think about what she loves, what makes her happy. That’s the key.”

Spencer nodded picked up his phone, scrolling through the list he’d made of all your favorite things.

He stopped on a picture of you smiling back at him from the screen, a photo he’d taken during one of your many picnics. Your hair had been flowing in the wind, your eyes crinkled with your smile as you explained the meaning behind one of your favorite songs. It was the same photo that graced both his phone and laptop backgrounds.

“She loves almost every kind of art,” he whispered, his heart swelling with affection. “Renaissance literature, realism paintings, classic books. And she’s really outdoorsy too.”  He whispered, his heart expanding, pumping. thump, thump- laced with love.

He thought about the countless picnic dates, the times you’d coaxed him out of bed for a run or a hike. His mind wandered to what you might be doing right now—your second class of the day had likely started, and he imagined you taking notes, doodling in the margins.

Penelope and Morgan exchanged amused glances, their lips quivering with smiles as they listened to Spencer’s lovesick ramblings.

“Looks like Reid’s got it bad,” Morgan whispered to Garcia, who stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“He really does,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hadn’t seen you in two weeks, four days, twenty-three minutes, and fourteen seconds—far too long. He didn’t want to waste another moment as he approached your door, your favorite flowers in hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait another second, as you opened the door before he could even knock.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Every day, he found himself falling for you more and more. You gave him a shy smile, stepping out to wrap your arms around his taller frame. He hugged you back immediately, burying his head in the crook of your neck. When you finally pulled apart, he took a proper look at you, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. In that moment, and in every other, you were the epitome of beauty—a vision that left him utterly mesmerized.

“These are for you,” Spencer said softly, offering you the peonies. He realized they paled in comparison to you, but nonetheless, he held them out.

“You never forget them, Spence,” you said, your voice equally soft. Spencer chuckled, half-offended that you’d think he ever could—eidetic memory or not.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, taking your hand as he led you to his car, opening the door for you. “I have the whole day planned.”

“Yeah?” Your head rises of its own accord against the car seat. 

"I really want it to be perfect." 

It’s already perfect because how much better can it get you thought? You're in his car, your favorite songs playing in the background and his hand never leaves your side. 

“It already is.” You say grazing your thumb over his knuckles. 

You finally reach the place away from everyone else. “There’s a trail nearby and a perfect place for a picnic.” Spencer whispers, slipping his hand into yours again. 

It fits so perfectly.

You smile, squeezing his hand “Lead the way.” 

In a field of daisies Spencer pulls out a blanket, carefully placing his gifts as he pats the spot next to him. You nestle against his taller frame, he smells like sandalwood, coffee, and home. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, he smiles down at you playing with your hair absentmindedly. 

“You. Always you.” You get the familiar, but nevertheless oh-so welcome kick in your stomach every time he smiles at you. 

“What about you?” He asks in return, and you shrug, not able to convey all your emotions. 

“I'm thinking that I want my gifts.” You say slightly pouting.

With a shy smile, Spencer untangled himself from you and reached for the presents. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package and a small painting, both wrapped with care.

“I hope you like them,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Your eyes lit up as you unwrapped the gifts, revealing a limited edition of Sylvia Plath’s work—a book you’d mentioned offhandedly that you’d been searching for. Your gaze met his, overflowing with emotions you hadn’t known were possible. You always believed in love, but this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. It made all the heartbreaks of the past worth it because they led you to him.

You abandoned the gifts, flinging yourself into his arms. He laughed, catching you as you both tumbled onto the grass. Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you like them,” he replied, still holding you.

“How did you even find it?” you asked, marveling at the book.

“Brittney Johnson—remember the missing persons case we solved? Her dad’s a book collector. He was really grateful and said if we ever needed a favor, he’d be happy to help.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. You’d spent so long building walls around yourself, convincing yourself you didn’t need a relationship. But with Spencer, those walls crumbled before you even had a chance to put them up.

“I also wrote you a card, my handwriting isn't the best, but I know you like words of affirmation” Spencer said, reaching into his bag. But before he could present it, dark clouds gathered overhead, and raindrops began to fall, dampening the ground.

“Seriously?” Spencer groaned, quickly sheltering you with his jacket. The chocolate and sandwiches were ruined, along with your clothes. The two of you hurried to the car, making sure the gifts were safe, and finally found shelter inside.

“I’m sorry our picnic was ruined, angel,” Spencer said, helping you fix your hair.

“It’s not ruined, Spence. We can have a night in, order some Chinese, and finish a new episode?” you suggested, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he started the car.

𐙚 ✱ ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .

Back at your apartment, the two of you hurried inside, drenched from the rain. You kicked off your shoes and quickly disappeared into your bedroom, returning with dry clothes for both of you. You handed Spencer his sweater, the one you’d “borrowed” long ago, and couldn’t help but smile as he accepted it.

“Hey, I was looking for this,” he said, pulling on the warm sweater.

“Sorry I stole it,” You replied, not the least bit apologetic.

He shook his head, following you to the kitchen, where you were setting up takeout containers on the counter. The sweater smells like you and he thinks he should let you keep it. It smells like cherries, winter warmth and like the love of his life.

“I love that you did. I feel closer to you whenever I wear it.”

You blushed, grateful he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks as you turned to grab plates. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I planned our anniversary,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You turned in his arms, cupping his cheek as you gazed into his warm eyes. “Spence, it was perfect. It’s not about the flowers or the gifts or the picnic. It’s about being with you.”

Before Spencer could respond, you gently stepped out of his embrace, suddenly remembering you still had his gift to give.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said with a smile, rummaging through the gift bag. You walked back to him, holding up a beautifully knitted purple scarf.

“My mom’s been teaching me how to knit, and this is the first thing I made. It’s for you. I know you get colds easily, and keeping your neck and chest warm can help reduce the shock of inhaling cold, dry air, which irritates your respiratory tract. I even stitched my name on the end, so a part of me is always with you.”

Spencer’s face lit up as he accepted the scarf, immediately noticing how it carried your familiar scent.

“This is so thoughtful,” he said, his eyes soft with appreciation. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been this concerned about my colds. Although, just so you know, wearing a scarf alone won’t prevent you from catching a cold. Colds are caused by viruses, usually spread through respiratory droplets or by touching contaminated surfaces.”

You smiled at his rambling, finding comfort in the way his mind worked—it was like a love language all its own. Chuckling softly, you wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it just right.

“It’s the thought that counts, angel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s already my favorite scarf.” He then brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

It's in the quiet, messy, beautifully imperfect moments like this, spencer thinks: where love is felt in every heartbeat, every glance, and every shared breath.

thank you so much for reading <33

[nfr-girly]

fiancée life with hasanabi? <3

I love this sm!! I imagine this could carry on after this fic of mine <33

————————————————————————

-the moment you and Hasan get engaged, he will not keep his hands off you for ONE second

-he’s just so protective of you now, he always was but EXTRA

-the moment he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he devoted himself to keeping you safe

-of course with that came his fans. Everyone knew about you and Hasan, and there had been some hate around but you didn’t take it to heart, Hasan loved you even more for that <3

-he left it up to you to decide if you wanted people to know, i imagine you guys would do a hard launch where Hasan posts one wedding photo on his story and doesn’t say anything about it for like a MONTH, while everyone’s going crazy. It doesn’t get brought up until a random Fear& episode where they talk about his ring

-poor Hasan had so many doubts if you wanted to marry him though, he didn’t want you to feel pressured by his fan base. But you didn’t care about any of that. You only wanted him <33

-Hasan definitely would leave all the decorating choices to you, he’s known since you two were only friends what type of wedding you’d want, and he plans to give you EXACTLY that

-Hasan would also be very humble about his engagement, obviously he would talk about it with his friends but he doesn’t feel like he can talk about it as much as he wants cause of his social media presence. At night when it’s just the two of you is when he rambles on about how he feels. How excited he is to start this life with you, how he’s so happy you’re in his life and that he doesn’t deserve you. As he’s rambling you’re just lying there trying not to cry cause you’re just like “what did I do to deserve this man??”

-If you guys do decide to keep it a secret, Hasan will come up with ways to see you while he’s streaming without chat being suspicious. Like toilet breaks, or pretending the bell rung, one time he’d be like “I’m gonna see kaya make sure she’s okay” when she’s literally behind the chair.

-he just pretends he didn’t see her, he did

-I can definitely imagine a scenario where Hasan accidentally forgot to take his engagement ring off for a Fear& episode, but no one questions it cause they think Hasans told everyone.

-then will comes out with “do you guys have a date for the wedding?”

-Hasan FREAKS out, mans is already preparing to kill will barehanded not knowing his rings on display

-Hasans Like “what??” And acts all confused, then wills just like “the wedding date, for you and y/n??”

-Hasans looking at will shaking his head, trying to get him to understand that NO ONE KNOWS

-finally will realises and is like SHIT

-he does immediately jump to defend himself though by pointing at his own ring finger and then looking at Hasans hand

-Hasan looks at his finger and sees he hasn’t taken his ring off. I’m not even joking the pod is silent for two straight minutes after that

-you end up finding out about it and Hasans so worried you’re mad but really you find it funny as fuck, you laugh about it with Austin and qt for almost 10 minutes

-Hasan is PANICKING though cause he knows how fans can be and they don’t know how they’ll act towards you

-you reassure him it’s okay and it’s a relief you two don’t have to hide it anymore <33

-literally Hasan is just so in love with you, like in all the ways someone can love someone he loves you

[ttjisung]

CANCUN p. jisung

richkid!park jisung x richkid!fem reader (e2l)

in which a trip to southern mexico along with your brother's obnoxious friend becomes more than you can handle when you both release your stress.

cw: MDNI! SMUT! my longest fic so far for my boyfie's birthday :3, fingering, exhibitionism (you don't get caught), unprotected sex, dry humping, public sex, dom jisung for the element of surprise, you are honestly really snobby and annoying and jisung is too, even though he tries to hide it. (wc: 5.7k)

For the past week and half, you’ve woken up smiling with a pep in your step – it was finally summer! The only time available to feel somewhat happy as a college student had arrived, after months of long lectures and painfully boring labs, and you weren’t looking to waste it droning miserably around an isolated campus. The opportunity to travel was offered to you the second day of your break, in the form of a message from your brother, Chenle.

Yo. We’re hitting up the beach house in Cancun if you want to come. You can invite someone too, just let me know. Dad’s paying 

Not even ten minutes later, you and Ningning were at the mall scouting for cute bikinis. Deciding on a light pink two piece with a flared miniskirt on the bottom, you didn’t bother looking at the price tag before passing it to the worker. Truth be told, you hadn’t looked at your bank account since you were allowed to get one. You knew it was always covered, and you had sworn to never be one of those rich kids who are ashamed of their wealth and call themselves “comfortable”. You figured if you could enjoy life and travel with your best friend every semester, why fight it?

“Lele better have gotten us each a first class window seat. If I get middle I will slice his throat.” 

Ningning mindlessly nodded to your obnoxious complaints, holding her phone up high to record a pre-trip transition tiktok, not bothering turning her volume down as the noise rang out loudly. “-Ugh, and then he was like, you only get to check in two bags but like, Ning that’s so unfair. Like I need more so I can bring back gifts for the girls.” This time Ningning actually looked in your direction, voicing out a small mmm to let you know she agreed.

The both of you sported similar airport outfits – comfy pink sweatpants alongside a white shirt, the matching outfit a tribute you had planned for the trip. Chenle spotted you immediately, yelling out your name and throwing his hands up in the air. As your eyes locked, you rushed over, shoving your bags onto the bench and hugging him. “Ewww, get off me.” The attempted-sweet moment was tarnished as he pushed you off, deciding to not greet Ningning either.   

Rolling your eyes at his annoying antics, you waved at his friends who were scattered along the same sitting area. Scanning their faces, you didn’t miss the way one particular friend didn’t wave back – Park Jisung, who for some reason swore you were his mortal enemy. He simply looked your way, scoffed, and pulled his phone out again. Your plans of slapping him and pulling him by the hair were interrupted as Jaemin, one of your brother’s nicer friends stepped in front of you, smiling widely. 

“Little Zhong, it’s been so long. When’d we last see you?” “Umm… I don’t really… know.” He laughed, and you giggled along, engaging in small talk. Had Jaemin not been blocking you, you would’ve seen the way Jisung’s  eyes squinted sharply at your direction, spanning between you and his friend quickly before averting his view. 

After leaving your bags with your brother, you pulled Ningning along to go airport shopping. It was a higher end company, and of course you were part of the membership, meaning you all shared a private lounge. The company offered many stores for members only, ranging from Coach to Chanel, and that’s where you immediately headed together. 

“I think I need a bag for the trip, I looked up the trends in South Mexico right now and my purse just isn’t aligning.” “Oh my God, same. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing that five month old red one, it would’ve been so embarrassing.” Your snobbish comments blended in with the echoes of older women who had access to the same membership, and after one hour of touching authentic leather clutches to Greek weaved trendy tote bags, you were finally satisfied with your three new bags (Nigning with her two). 

The whole group decided to meet up an hour before necessary to sit together until the boarding time, an effort encouraged by Mark who said he ended up in a small bug-infested motel next to an airport once because he lost his group and missed his plane. That scenario being unironically your worst fear, you were quick to hop on board and agree, pulling Ningning by the hand to head towards their lounge.

Unsurprisingly, all of the others were gone, probably also shopping or stuffing their faces at the supreme sushi buffet, leaving you two alone. As the minutes passed by, you were starting to get annoyed, not wanting to end up in the small motel Mark described. “Ning, go look for anyone else. I’ll stay here.” “What the hell? Why do you get to stay here while I look?” “Umm, because one of us has to, dummy. Did you forget about like… bombs and stuff? Airport rules. Duh.” Rolling her eyes, Ningning crossed her arms and stormed off, muttering under her breath as she walked out of view. 

You grinned as she was finally completely gone, pulling out a sleeping eye mask and moving onto the chaise lounge, on your back. A looming shadow was what woke you up, so intense you swear you could see it with your eyes closed. Pulling your eye mask up, you were awoken to the sight of Park Jisung hovering over your body on his knees, head over yours casting a shadow.  

“What?”

The question made him scoff once more, looking away and shaking his head before simply getting up and walking away. “Hey! Don’t walk away! You were watching me sleep, creep.” You rushed to get up, fully discarding the mask and standing up to follow him around the medium-sized room. “Don’t flatter yourself,” his deeper voice rang out, continuing to walk away, “I was just checking cause Chenle asked me t-” He was interrupted as you finally caught up to him, holding his arm in your hand and tugging him around. 

A swelling frustration built up in you as you saw his eyes, full of disinterest and boredom. It was one thing to bother you constantly, it was another to do so while feigning nonchalance. Somehow, your brother’s best friend had managed to get on every single nerve inside of your body, and you seriously began to worry about what would happen when your body would run out on the trip. 

“Look, it’s already annoying enough that we have to be near each other these next three weeks. Can we please just avoid each other?” The truce you offered was your last hope, pleading at him in a desperate manner. Jisung looked away with a hand on his chin, as if to seriously think about what you requested, looking at you once again before his smile cracked, eyes squinted slightly as he shook his head, floppy bangs swaying side to side, “No.”  

You huffed before letting go of his arm with a strong force, turning around and walking towards your new stack of bags, choosing one off the top to hold before attempting to storm off in the direction of Ningning. At this point you were seriously starting to consider cancelling the trip. You’d probably be able to convince your parents to send you two to France instead for the fourth time; yet one thing that your summer house in Cancun had that your three story, antique French apartment didn’t was Mango, the orange fat cat who resided on the property that you adored. Since you were a kid, you looked forward to every Spring break because it meant visiting Mango and sleeping on the beach with him under the hot Mexican Sun. Now though, it seems like he’ll have to be your distraction for Jisung’s aggravating antics.

If you had to pick one thing about the male that infuriated you the most, it’d be his hypocrisy. Even you admitted that you were spoiled, not defending yourself when the topic came up, yet Jisung wouldn’t miss a chance to look down at you in disapproval, acting like he was superior when he was the exact same thing as you – an entitled, superficial rich kid who ended up with everything he could dream of.

Ningning was paid for by your parents, but Chenle revealed to you through text that his friends provided for their own selves, using their supposed money that truly just came out of their parents pockets instead, including Jisung who never failed to remind you you were nothing but a product of wealth. 

Although you had half a mind to curse him out, you were honestly tired and just wanted to find your best friend to complain to. Jisung had to ruin apparently every one of your plans as his larger hand wrapped around your shoulder, this time stopping you from marching away. “Wait, hold on. My bad, okay? I’ll agree with you,” his voice sounded smoother, more empathetic as he pulled you back near the couch he caught you sleeping on. “Really?” Your hope was restored as he nodded his head, “Yeah, on one condition.” “What would that be?” 

Rather than answering you, he simply pushed you onto the seat, getting on his knees again and hovering in between your legs once more. You felt his breath on your face as he stopped, his eyes scanning your face before lowering to your lips. A grin grew on his mouth, though he tried to hide it by biting his own lip. 

Without a warning, his hands moved to your shoulders, pulling you into him as he left a small peck to the corner of your mouth. Still in shock and confusion, you didn’t push him off which he took as encouragement to place another one on the other corner. Finally regaining your consciousness, you shrieked and pushed him away, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“What the hell, Jisung? What is wrong with you?” The male rolled his eyes at your loudly yelled questions, leaning into your ear instead. “You can act like you haven’t felt any tension between us all you want, but I won’t let you ignore me this time.” He whispered, standing up on his feet and staring at your face before walking off to where his own bags were. 

The rest of the hour was spent in the bathroom, frantically retelling the story to Ningning who was just as shocked as you were, yet according to her it was only a matter of time before that evil man tried something on you.

When you two rejoined the larger group to finally board, you were weirdly quiet, avoiding the stare of Jisung who was watching you intently. It was the first time he’d seen you so panicked, so distraught. It was then that he realized he really liked the feeling of having control over you. While he was smiling to himself, predicting what a great trip it would be, you were shivering in your seat, dreading what was yet to come.

All of your worries faded away as you stared at the green sign displayed above the road Chenle was driving on, Bienvenidos a Cancun. It had been a while since you were last here, the humid hot air and the bright sun almost unfamiliar to the point where it would’ve upset you. Unfortunately, your group was too large to commute together, so you split up into two groups. 

You waved goodbye to Renjun, Haechan, Mark and Jeno at the airport parking lot, entering the backseat of a large black vehicle that adorned a sign with your last name on it, clearly dedicated to you and your brother. Jaemin sat next to Chenle in the passenger’s seat, leaving you sandwiched between Ningning and Jisung. Chenle insisted you’d sit there, saying your guest should have the window seat. You nearly choked him out through the console of the car. 

Ningning was asleep in minutes, clearly jetlagged from the plane ride, the soft chattering coming from the front of the car probably lullaby-ing her into slumber. This left you awkwardly pressed to her side, trying your best to avoid contact with the male next to you who had been observing you ever since you all landed. 

A bump came up ahead on the road, causing you to shift up slightly into the air, landing next to Jisung’s legs. Thanks to the microshorts you were wearing (curse the torturous summer weather), your bare thigh was pressing against Jisung’s choice of long jorts. The length of his attire stopped your skin from touching his, leading to a relieved sigh, yet it was interrupted by a heavy breath as he nonchalantly moved his closer hand towards your thigh, awkwardly placing it between yours and his. 

Confused by his choice of placement, you were about to complain yet words no one would ever hear were caught in your throat as the car came into contact with another speed bump, this time lifting Jisung’s hand directly onto your bare, plush skin. “Hey! Take it off.” He simply shrugged at your whispered demand, “It’s the car, I can’t control it.” 

The daggers in your eyes simply egged Jisung on as he lightly pinched your thigh, chuckling lightly to himself as you smacked his hand away finally. 

Once the car ride was over and Ningning was shaken awake by your own hands, the two of you ran inside the large house, speeding into the hallway to choose your rooms first. You settled for one of the two rooms on the second story, opting for the one with a balcony facing the blue crystal water of the beach. Ningning ended up on the first story in the room closest to the indoor pool, yelling something about her daily morning laps. 

One by one, Chenle along with his friend group entered the large house, claiming their own territory quickly. Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin decided to stay in the rooms in the basement, and a large part of you believed it was due to the theater room that had a PS5 connected to a surround-sound speaker system. Mark took the room next to Ningning, the two of them bonding over their swimming exercise routine. Renjun took the room furthest into the hallway, followed by Chenle who chose the one in between his and Mark’s. 

It was a pure coincidence that Jisung ended up residing in the last room available, upstairs and right next to yours. You hadn’t even realized it was him until he knocked on your door, pushing it open before you could say anything and leaning on the frame. 

“There is no way you’re next to me. Switch rooms with someone now!” Your words were pointed and firm, suddenly covered in the confidence you lacked at the airport as you stood up, throwing your unpacked clothing onto the king sized bed. Jisung simply snickered to himself, “It’s cute that you think that’s up to you to decide. I’m comfy here though, and I already unpacked so no can do, sorry.” “Why do you enjoy making my life a living hell?” “Because it’s funny.” His responses only angered you further, causing you to stand up and slam the door on his face. 

Choosing a better method to unwind than yelling in your brother’s best friend’s face, you put on a cute bikini with a lace cover-up, rushing out into the hallway when the coast was clear and heading towards Ningning’s room, who was also already unpacked and dressed in a cute sundress. 

No words were exchanged as you two ran through the back door onto the beach, giggling with each other as your feet met the warm sand. Ningning placed her tote bag down near the water, laying down two towels and sitting on one of them. 

It was no surprise when you heard the shouts of the rest of the group, each male running towards the beach as well. They all placed their miscellaneous beach items next to you, not bothering to place down a towel and simply sitting in the warm sand in a circle. 

Truthfully, you were already sick of the overwhelming testosterone that engulfed you both, and apparently your best friend was as well as she shouted out a challenge, “Last one to dive into the water has to do everybody else’s laundry.” Ignoring the fact that your vacation home came accompanied with a house maid, which of course it did, the large majority of the men stood up, racing through the sand until you could barely see their heads in the water. 

Three stayed back – Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun. The last had already occupied himself with a book in his hand, laying on his stomach on his towel (he was the only one that brought one out of all of his friends). Jisung was simply staring at you with a blank expression, causing you to roll your eyes and look away. He momentarily looked away as well, although your next words pulled his attention back quickly. “Jaems, can you help me put some sunscreen on?” The older male next to you nodded, smiling and grabbing the bottle from your hand. He shifted so that your back would be facing him, squirting out a generous amount of the lotion before nudging your hair aside, spreading it onto the back of your neck first. 

His hands roamed towards the small of your back, spreading the lotion all over you before gently rubbing it in with his palms. Soft sighs escaped from your mouth, your eyes closed as you leaned into his hands that were essentially massaging you. 

Jisung was annoyed. It was one thing when you provoked him specifically, but to display your content sighs so loudly was another. He’s not sure why the sight of his close friend’s large hands running up your hips, under your arms, everywhere, had him so riled up. It couldn’t be jealousy – you were the most infuriating person he knew, yet as he quickly stood up, rushing over to the water, it was clear that he was more bothered than he let off. 

Soon enough, the hot sun faded out into a serene, dark sky, and the group had once again returned to the house momentarily. Tired from several hours of messing around in the water, Chenle announced that he would order food. It was Ningning’s suggestion that they eat it on the beach chairs settled right outside of the house, under the balcony of your room. Although you hadn’t swam as much as the others, you were honestly tired of the socialization and chose to head to your room instead. Jisung was confused – and maybe even disappointed – when he noticed you weren’t outside with the rest, deciding he’d check in on you (and aggravate you a bit more).

His long legs carried him upstairs, leading him to the familiar door of your room that was slightly ajar. Inside, you laid on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. His grin grew, the palm of his hand pushing harshly onto the door until it opened completely.

Your eyes were quick to look up at the source of the noise, rolling once you realized it was Jisung. “What is it now?” “Nothing, can’t a guy just want to hang out with his dear friend?” Your nose scrunched up as his response, “I’m not your friend, you’ve made it clear with your relentless bullying all of these years.” He pushed himself off of the door frame and into your room, stepping until he was right next to your bed, standing still next to your laying body. 

“C’mon, I’m not that bad.” He joked, hoping you didn’t catch the way his eyes roamed down your barely clothed stomach to your smooth legs. You did catch it, yet refused to mention it in fear of a scenario like the one in the lounge repeating. “Look, come here.” He leaned down, grabbing your hand in his and pulling until you were unwillingly sitting on the bed. He didn’t stop until you were completely off of the mattress, dragging you towards the open doors that led to your balcony. 

You could hear the buzz from below it, belonging to the large group eating some authentic tacos that costed a hundred pesos each. Jisung stopped once you both were fully outside, and you stared up at him, confused by his actions. 

He caught your gaze, smirking down at you before lifting a finger to his lips, as if to motion you to be quiet. That confused you even more, you weren’t even being loud?

You suppose his next actions explained his weird antics as he flipped you to lean against the railing of the balcony, your nearly-naked back now facing his clothed chest as you were forced to look out towards the beach. He used the hands he flipped you with to hold onto both of your hips, pushing you flush against him and placing his head on your shoulder, almost looking down at the crowd from behind you. 

“They look so busy, hmm?” You squinted your eyes at his question, wondering why he even cared. “I mean, I guess so…” “Would truly be a shame if they were to look up and see us right now, right?” You tried to tilt your head to look at him, yet he took one of his hands and placed it on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down. “We aren’t doing anything… so not really.” You wish you could ignore the way the laugh he let out didn’t run straight to your core, yet it was hard as his grip on you grew, pulling your body closer into his until you felt the pressure of his hands build up.

You jumped at the feeling of his hand leaving your hip, instead roaming towards the end of your ruffled bikini bottom. Nothing could hide the small gasp that released from your mouth as it snaked over towards the front of your body, slowly lowering itself until he was fully covering your clothed core. “Shh, don’t want them to hear, do you?” The small twinge of pleasure along with the ache building inside of you blinded you to the small smirk heard in his voice.  

His voice was muffled with your hair as he pushed his face closer to you, his breath evident against your ear as the grip in his other hand grew, applying more pressure to the base of your neck. 

His long fingers were now gently rubbing you through the material of your bikini, ever so slightly moving until they met your clothed clit. Your breathing grew heavier, knuckles turning white as you held onto the railing, praying that the dark sky covered the possible view your friends had downstairs. The view of Jisung’s hand finally pulling the fabric aside, fingers gliding against the slick that had built up from his actions. A small moan was muffled by his other hand that moved from your neck to your mouth, now confidently rolling your sensitive clit with his thumb as two of his fingers drifted lower, slowly but surely finding their way inside of you.

You had truly underestimated the size of Jisung’s hands as he built up his pace, thrusting the two fingers in and out. It was only when you felt an unfamiliar, cold sensation that you realized he had left a ring on one of them – probably the friendship ring Chenle forced all of them to buy and wear. 

His breathing grew as a reaction to the way your body instinctively bucked against his, your ass now pressed against his painful erection. He lightly whined into your shoulder, increasing the speed at which he moved his fingers inside of you, hoping you’d continue to build the friction between the two of you. 

Your moans quickened as well, fading to breathless gasps as the cold of his jewelry met with the warmth of your walls, leaving you a mess at his mercy. Just as you continued to press into him, craving more than just his long curved fingers, you heard a voice from below. “Should we go check in on Ji and N/n?” 

Curse Jaemin and his thoughtful concern, you began to pull away from Jisung, afraid of getting caught. What you hadn’t expected was for Jisung to push back into you, the hand that had covered your mouth now holding your hips, bucking his own to the fast pace he set, desperately searching for release as his fingers continued to bully their way inside of you. 

“Ji… Jisung, stop! They’ll… Th- They’ll catch us…” You struggled to let your words out, growing desperate as well, his fingers reaching so deep inside of you that you felt like you were going to pass out from the pleasure. The added danger of knowing you might get walked into was your final push as your mouth released a final whine, folding against the railing you held onto as you attempted to catch your breath. 

Jisung was too focused to stop, continuing to rut into you, his fingers sliding out and moving towards his mouth instead. He lifted his head off your neck to suck onto them, swirling his tongue to fully enjoy the taste of you. Without a warning, and quite frankly ignoring your pleas of overstimulation, he thrusted his covered bulge into you once more, groaning into his own fingers as he came in his shorts. 

He stood against you for a minute, the two of you catching your breath and attempting to process what just happened, yet the sound of several footsteps rushing up the stairs and near your doorway had you pushing him away, running into your room and picking up the closest pair of pants to put on. 

Ningning’s eyebrow was raised when she stepped into your room, suspiciously locking eyes with you before looking at Jisung, continuing to observe the two of you harshly. Your heart beating almost covered the noise of Chenle, who was demanding you and Jisung to join them all downstairs to bond. Wanting to escape the heavy atmosphere hanging around you two after what had just happened, you were quick to agree, running down the stairs and out the door. 

The morning after came soon, the bright sunlight that poured into your room waking you up from a scandalous dream about Jisung that you would never share with anyone. You were so embarrassed –  you were supposed to be the one to bitch Jisung, not the other way around, so to admit that you came on his fingers, more importantly that you enjoyed it, proved difficult. 

Both Ningning and Jisung stared at you weirdly as you announced you felt sick, therefore you would not be able to join them on their trip to the cenotes. You refused to lock eyes with either of them when you rushed back up the stairs, slamming your door behind you. 

You spent the day lazily relaxing on the beach alone, sipping on several glasses of agua de horchata with an audible book blasting through your Airpods Max. Your peace was only disturbed once the sun began to set, and a hand was placed onto your bare shoulder. You recognized the large hand, unfortunately too familiar. 

“Was it that bad that you had to avoid us all?” Jisung’s deep voice rang out, his body finally coming into view as he sat next to you. It took everything in you to not stare at his upper body, now bare as a result of the adventures the group went on. You shrugged his hand off, shaking your head and looking off towards the water as you took your headphones off, placing them on your bag. “No.” “Then why did you magically get sick this morning? Scared I would harass you in front of your brother too?” You didn’t want to admit that it was true, but harass wasn’t the term you’d use, considering you woke up wet and reminiscing the feeling of him thrusting into you.

You just shrugged, causing Jisung to frown at your lack of rebuttal. It was only fun when you played along. 

He let out a hum of disapproval, staring at you like he found himself doing a lot on this trip. Finally finding the courage to look at him, your eyes locked, and it was then that Jisung really noticed how pretty you looked under the dim sky. He hesitantly placed a hand on your slightly sunburnt face, cupping your cheek and looking down at your lips.

You looked down at his lips too, admiring how plump they were – you had never taken your time to appreciate how pretty he was as well, too focused on his annoying insults and teasing. You both leaned in slowly until there was no space left in between you, mouths finally meeting. It was slow at first, hesitant and almost innocent, yet something unleashed inside Jisung as he heard you sigh into the kiss. It reminded him of the noises he pulled out of you the night before, suddenly feeling desperate. 

He was the first to assert control, placing his other hand on your face as well and pulling you into him, devouring your lips and pushing against them with his tongue, demanding you to let it meet yours. You complied, sick of acting like you ever wanted control over Jisung. You never actually cared for it, you just liked trying to push him over the edge, which you appeared to succeed in as his breathing quickened. Your tongues met, the kiss turning messy. He could taste the sweet drink off of your spit as he let go of your face, instead moving you until you were laying against the soft sand, his body hovering over yours.

Jisung used both his arms to keep him on top of you as you moved yours down, palming him through the blue swimming shorts he chose to wear. The feeling of your smaller hand making contact with his clothed dick had him swelling up, growing needier and needier until he couldn’t take it. 

He pushed himself up onto his knees, looking down at you as his hands roamed to your small bikini bottoms – smaller than the ones yesterday, you knew what you were doing to him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ignoring the slight sting of the sand grains digging into your arms as you watched him bite his lip before finally pulling the bottoms off of your legs. 

He groaned at the sight of your bare core, glistening against the dim lighting of the moon. He was quick to follow, desperately pulling off his own shorts, leaving him completely bare. The only clothing that remained on either of you was your bikini top, yet it didn’t last long before Jisung ripped it off, ignoring your small noise of complaint as the fabric tore off of you. He leaned over you again, struggling to ignore the feeling of your slick cunt meeting his hard-on.

Finally, you were both completely naked, left with no distractions. Jisung kissed you again, closing his eyes and melting into the feeling as your hand snaked down. He let out a hiss as you held onto his sensitive dick, guiding it lower until he felt your hole. Giving a few small thrusts against the slit of your pussy, he finally sank in with no warning, moaning at the way you immediately clenched around him. You were no better, eyes widening as you felt the stretch inside of you. Yes, it might’ve been Jisung’s personal goal to annoy you to no end, yet he had enough mercy to give you time to adjust. It might’ve slipped from your mind, yet Jisung was very focused on your facial expressions when he got rid of your clothes, noticing how shocked you appeared to be from the size of his length. He always knew he was on the bigger end, yet his ego continued to inflate as you struggled to take him fully. With his newfound confidence, and your small encouraging nod, he began to move, finding a rhythm as he thrusted into you, pushing you further into the bed of sand under your bodies. 

Your hands found his back, scratching down his built muscles as you fought to get used to him. He moved one of his hands that was holding him up, causing him to shift deeper into you accidentally (yet you weren’t one to complain as the new angle pulled an embarrassingly loud noise from you). His now-free hand slid down your body, stopping at your boobs to tease you a bit, groping the soft flesh before continuing down until he met your clit. 

The way Jisung played with the bundle of nerves alleviated the pain in you, now shifting into pleasure as he pushed into you with a renowned force. “Tell me how it feels, baby.” He whispered into your ear, begging to hear your voice. “S-so good, Ji. Need more, please…” Deciding to not tease you for the first time in his life, he complied, thrusting into you harder, the speed of his fingers on your clit increasing until you were a mess under his body, crying out at the combined stimulation.

The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, alongside the reflection of the moon on the water encompassed you both as your passion took over, grinding down to meet his thrusts with fervor. You finally caved when his mouth met your neck, sucking harshly in hopes of marking you up. You reached your climax, riding it out as Jisung continued to thrust into you. “Where do you want me?” “Inside… Please.” He simply nodded, his movements growing sloppier as he sheathed himself into you fully, searching for his own release. 

You decided to mirror his actions, lifting your head to kiss his neck, and that was enough to make him finish, his cum gushing inside of you, dripping out lightly as he reluctantly pulled out.  As you looked over at Jisung who now laid next to you in the sand, you thought that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all. It wasn’t until he looked at you, basking in your satisfied afterglow that he leaned in, holding your neck with his hand and pulling you into another heated kiss, this time pulling you on top of him, that you realized you had to plan a very long debrief with both Ningning and Mango tomorrow morning.

a/n: is it obvious i'm mexican and this is slightly self indulgent. psa if youre paying more than twenty pesos for a taco its probably not an authentic one :/ this is the longest fic i've ever written to celebrate the very special occasion. park jisung day. ^_^

[targaryenluvs]

YOURS TRULY

pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.

warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications

a/n: look who decided to write again!

Icons not mine, credits to the owner!

it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.

by his side.

at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.

because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.

“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.

there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.

but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?

over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.

everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.

but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.

“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.

it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.

“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.

“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”

percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”

“bet i could catch her before you.”

“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’

“you wanna bet?”

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”

“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.

“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”

as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.

[roanofarcc]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

pairing: boone x fem!reader

summary: years spent in a mediocre relationship with your “highschool sweetheart” comes to an abrupt end. instead of the heart break you thought would consume you, you feel free. and that freedom leads you right to boone’s front door. 

warnings: sad boone, relationship issues, unrequited love (or so one thinks!), a curse word or two, mentions of drinking (brief). I am a firm believer of buying boys flowers :)

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

“Welcome, everyone, to my humble abode,” Boone said, dramatically gesturing to the small house at the end of a dirt road. The place was decorated in a very Boone-like fashion with odd scraps of metal loitering the side yard, junk cars they oftened used for scrap parts when any of their vehicles broke down, and some wildflowers that his mother had sprinkled around the front steps when he first moved in a couple years post-high school. 

His road consisted of three other houses, miles away from anything besides corn fields. The houses had all changed, but Boone kept his the same considering he wasn’t there for much of the spring and summer months, and he spent the winter holidays in Florida with his retired mother and father. 

“Thanks for letting us crash at your place,” Kate said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t think I could’ve slept in one more motel.” 

Javi nodded. “I’m still scarred from the roaches.” The last couple of places they’ve stayed had been less than ideal. They were grimy and bug-infested. All of the Wranglers were excited to stay at an actual home for once. 

They all hopped out of the truck, meeting up with the rest of the crew who pulled in right behind them. Boone enjoyed his home more when there were others inside of it. He didn’t like the quiet and he hated his clear view of his neighbor's home.  

The darling little blue house had stood there since Boone had moved in. The porch had been painted and the landscaping changed a hundred and two times, but the house was still sky blue and always decorated for the seasons. 

He made the mistake of looking at the house for a beat too long. It was like the universe was looking down at him, laughing and serving up some karma alongside his arrival. The front door swung open, and you walked out. He should have looked away and followed his friends inside, pretending like he never saw you, but he couldn’t. You looked up after locking your door and your gaze fell right on him. For a moment you looked at each other from across the street before a smile broke out on your face and you hurried across your front yard, right towards him. 

“Oh, man,” Boone muttered under his breath, hands reaching to fix his hair and smooth out his wrinkled cutoff. 

“Boone?” Tyler said, clapping his shoulder before his eyes fell upon you. “Oh.” Tyler didn’t need to say more than that. He knew about Boone’s stupid crush on you since the moment he moved in. And as many times as he tried to shake it, you made it impossible to let it go. 

You’d been in a long-standing relationship, not married nor even engaged, but dating for as long as Boone could remember. It was awful of him to like someone who was already dating someone else, but there was something about you that made it impossible to rid his brain of it. Every time he saw you, it only made it worse because you were the epitome of neighborly. You baked him cookies and remembered his birthday. You offered to water his flowers and mow his lawn when he was away. You waved at him from the mailbox and told him stories and invited him over for coffee. You always asked about his storm-chasing adventures and listened with so much intent it drove him crazy. 

It was a pathic thing, he knew that, pining after a taken woman, but he couldn’t help it. And he’d never act on it, despite how much he loathed your boyfriend. Boone didn’t find himself around your boyfriend that often, for many reasons. But the times he had, he noticed how lackluster he was in comparison to you. Bland and boring with a touch of douchy-ness that rubbed Boone the wrong way. He knew most of his opinion was formed in jealousy, but the rest of it was the little tidbits of information you offered up to him. You didn’t necessarily complain but rather vented. Like the time he forgot your anniversary and tried to apologize with some lousy dinner at his friend's bar. Or all of the times he brushed off your excitement for certain things. The biggest thing though, that you had only admitted to Boone once on a winter’s night after you had wandered over after drinking a couple glasses of wine, was how he never wanted to talk about marriage. Every time you brought it up, he shut you down and left you waiting for some kind of sign of forever. 

Boone was pretty sure you didn’t remember telling him that, but he did. He couldn’t imagine someone being with you and not wanting to settle for forever. And sure, not everyone wanted to get married, but it was clear that you did and were waiting for some kind of initiation from him that never seemed to come. 

“Boone!” you shouted from the edge of his driveway, a bright smile on your face that twisted his gut into knots. He waved and walked forward just as you gave him a hug. You were always warm and smelled sweet, and you never failed to hug him when you caught him returning home. 

“I didn’t know you were due back yet?” you said, pulling away but staying close. 

Boone cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Y-Yeah, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing; no one wanted to stay another night at a motel.” 

“Can’t blame ‘ya there.” Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight, captivating. “Why don’t y’all come over tonight for some drinks?” 

Dani and Lily cheered from behind Boone and everyone aside from Tyler nodded their heads. 

Boone couldn’t say no; he had no reason to other than spending time with you was certainly going to make his affection worse. Tyler looked at him, unsure and sympathetic, but Boone ignored him and offered you a lopsided smile. “Sure thing.” 

You clapped your hands and bid them a good afternoon as you strolled back to your home. It wasn’t until Boone turned around that he dropped his head in his hands. 

Tyler whistled, slinging an arm around Boone’s shoulder as they all headed towards his house. “You’ve still got it bad, huh?” 

Kate turned around, curious. “Got what bad?” 

Boone said nothing as he unlocked the door and ushered everyone inside. Tyler answered for him as he pulled off his boots in the entryway. “A bad crush on the neighbor.” 

A gasp sounded from Lily. “No way! I didn’t know you had a hometown honey!” 

“I don’t,” Boone sighed, plopping down on the couch that was a little dusty from lack of use. “She’s got a boyfriend.” 

“Oh, man,” Javi said with a slight wince. “That’s rough.” 

“You’re tellin’ me.” 

Later that night, Boone shook off his nerves as he led the group of Wranglers over to your house. It was an uncomfortable mix of feelings that twisted around inside his gut. He always liked seeing you and catching up with you, but at the same time, he always found himself flustered and hit with the brick of guilt for liking you. He thought about moving to avoid his achy heart, but that seemed a bit extreme considering he was hardly home anyway. And he wasn’t sure he could give up seeing you, even in passing. You were a friendly face above all else, a calmness to his otherwise chaotic life. 

He knocked on your door, and you opened it with a wide smile, ushering everyone into your backyard. In the dim light of the evening, a fire was cracking in the pit and different beverages were resting in a small cooler. 

Boone ended up sitting beside you, your knees knocking against his. He fiddled with the tab of his beer and worked up the courage to ask, “What’s James up to tonight?” 

You seemed to hesitate before answering, “He’s out for a work thing.” 

There was an itch for him to ask more, but he decided against it and resorted to sipping his beer and listening to his friends start to recant their chasing stories to you. It all was in good fun, a nice night despite the close proximity to you. The fire crackled and smoke danced upwards, melting with the deep blue sky peppered with stars. 

The conversations flowed like you had been a part of the Wranglers since they started. You were easy to get along with, sweet and talkative. Boone wasn’t even sure what the time was before the group started stifling yawns. Finally, Tyler made the decision to head back, prompting everyone to tiredly agree. 

They offered you a mix of hugs and handshakes, a nice goodbye while you offered them a ‘come around any time.’ Boone lingered behind, picking up trash while you smothered in the fire. 

“Your friends are nice,” you said. 

Boone smiled lightly. “Yeah, they’re pretty great.” 

You grabbed a couple discarded cans and hugged them to your chest as you double-checked that everything was picked up. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you looked conflicted. A crease sat between your brows, something worry-filled or upsetting, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe he wasn’t as close with you as he was with the Wranglers, but his ever-growing feelings led to him becoming extra observant whenever he was around you. Subtleties in your actions were as big as wild gestures in his mind. 

��Are you okay?” he asked gently, not wanting to pry or overstep. 

You met his gaze for a second before you sighed. “I’m…I don’t really know.” 

He made a bold step forward, lessening the gap between you just slightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“You asked about James earlier,” you started, suddenly fascinated by the grass under your feet. “I lied.” 

“About what?” he scrunched his face in slight confusion. 

“He’s not out for work. We…we got into a fight, actually. A big one. He said he needed to cool off but…that was three days ago.” 

The confession caught Boone off guard. He nearly lost his balance. “O-Oh,” was all he could mutter. 

You let out a shaky laugh, but not a humorous one. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you continued. “It’s just…I haven’t really talked to anyone about it. And then you showed up and I…Well, I like talking to you.” 

Boone tried not to think about your words too hard, but his heart beat a little quicker inside his chest. He couldn’t muster up the right words before you started talking again. “You know the worst part about it? I’m not even that upset. I should be, right? If we were so in love, I should be upset that he walked out without even trying to talk things through. But I’m not. I should feel different, but I don’t. I don’t even miss him.” 

You groaned loudly and dropped down onto the old log that had been fashioned into a bench. You let the cans tumble into a pile on the grass as you held your head in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Boone said, slowly lowering himself beside you. “You can’t really help how ‘ya feel, or so I’ve been told.” 

“We’ve been together for ages,” you sighed. “It should hurt but it doesn’t. I think we’ve just been, like, stuck and too scared to admit that things don’t feel the way they did back when we first got together.” 

Boone felt like he was treading into dangerous territory without proper equipment. Like he was barreling right into a twister without anything to keep him grounded. But he knew he couldn’t think of himself, he had to think of you. You were upset; he didn’t like that. He couldn’t fix it, but maybe he could offer some generic, Hallmark advice and it would be okay. 

“Maybe he does just need time to cool off,” Boone suggested. “Space isn’t always a bad thing, right?” 

You shrugged. “We’ve fought before, but this felt different. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I want him to come back.” 

Boone let out some air from his cheeks, unsure of what to say and unsure of what you wanted him to say. Luckily, you spoke before he had to come up with something. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry, again. You should get back to your friends. I’m just rambling.” You laughed nervously, standing up once more and recomposing yourself. But he noticed the way you brushed your hand under your eyes and ducked your head. 

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” Boone said, quietly. “If you're not happy with him then…you know…” 

You smiled softly and nodded, and Boone took that as his moment to leave. He hurried back to his home, his heart racing inside his chest underneath the moonlight. 

You chewed on your nails nervously, pacing your kitchen for what felt like the millionth time that morning. After sleeping on your split feelings to Boone, you felt a weight grow heavier and heavier on your chest, a crushing feeling that tried to break your bones every time you saw the storm chaser on his brief visits home. It was wrong, you knew that, to feel something towards someone else while in a committed relationship. You’d never act on them while dating your boyfriend, but you subconsciously found yourself thinking of Boone. 

For a while, you thought maybe it was just a rush of intense friendship that you hadn’t felt in ages, and you confused that with romantic feelings. But the less and less you and your boyfriend felt like a real couple, the more you started to think about Boone beyond the bounds of friendship. It was all fantasy, something to keep your heart occupied while your boyfriend drifted further from you each time you desperately tried to pull him back in. 

The truth was you weren’t working anymore. Whatever spark you’d both been trying to fan for years finally gave way and left you both cold. But for some reason, you both were scared to end the first real relationship you’d ever known. 

After your fight, the absence of your boyfriend didn’t make you miss him, it made you comfortable in the quietness of your home and your freedom. So, you made the call. After trying and failing to bring your relationship back from the dead, you called it off and he agreed with a heavy sigh full of relief. 

Your heart was still tender and jumping into another relationship right away wasn’t what you wanted, and spring was still young. Boone left with his team to finish out the rest of the season chasing, and you worked on yourself until you found yourself in a place much better and brighter than you’d ever been in before. You felt lighter, a newfound sense of life in your veins. 

Once the months started to turn into crisp breezes and shorter days, you found yourself on the front porch of Boone the day after he returned home. 

He swung open the door with a smile and polite, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” you greeted, pulling out something from behind your back. It was a small bouquet of flowers picked from the patch in your backyard. “These are for you.” 

He blinked in surprise. “For me?” Boone chuckled and took him with a carefulness, like he was scared the breeze would take them. “Why in the world are you bringin’ me flowers?” 

You couldn’t stop grinning; your cheeks hurt. “I came to ask you a real important question.” 

He looked beyond confused but nodded for you to continue. 

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” 

Boone looked like he had short-circuited, eyes bulging out of his head and body frozen for a stretch of time that made you start to second guess your bold proposal. It took several moments for him to shake himself loose and ask, “Are you serious?” 

You nodded, heart beating nervously against your chest. His face broke out in a grin almost as wide as yours had been and he lurched forward, picking you up by the waist and spinning you around in front porch light. You threw your head back laughing, nerves subsiding in a moment of bliss. 

He sat you down but kept his hands on your hips, a little breathless and shinning. “Hell yeah I wanna,” he replied, as if his reaction didn’t tell you everything you needed to know.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 1

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why these days, I live my life flipping it off.

--

It’s been a week since I started my “sinful life” as a Fairytale Keeper.

It wouldn’t be long before I could go back to my former life after keeping this secret—at least that’s what I thought.

--

Darius: While I didn’t expect there to be a get-together soon after our arrival to England, I’m happy.

That night, a dinner party he called a get-together was held…

Between “Crown”, an organization directly under the command of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and “Vogel”, an organization directly under the command of Germany.

All members were together in one place.

Vogel had just arrived from Germany a few hours ago.

~~ Flashback ~~

Victor: Vogel is a research organization that’s dedicated to the societal contribution of the Cursed Ones. They will be staying in the palace for a few months as goodwill ambassadors.

Darius: Our motto is “the betterment of society through the Cursed Ones”

~~ End flashback ~~

(They looked friendly, not people you should be wary of)

However, there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now.

Harrison, whose power allowed him to see through lies, said “they’re lying”— 

(So long as we don’t truly know them, we shouldn’t let our guard down yet)

Darius, who I believe is the chief of “Vogel” was sitting next to William and enjoying his conversation with him.

(For now I think it’s better for me to lie low and stay quiet)

On the table was a spread of dishes that Victor had put his all into preparing.

(Even though it all looks so delicious…I’m too nervous to eat)

Nica: What’s this? Robin, you haven’t touched your food. Then I’ll take this cherry.

Ring: Nica, you’ll get a stomach ache if you take a stranger’s food.

Nica: What’s with the serious warning, little brother? It’s just an excuse to make an appeal to be friends. Ring, you’re really out of touch.

Ring: …I’m ignorant.

The twins looked similar, with the same hair and eye color.

Kate: Nica and Ring…right?

Nica: Yep, you remembered our names? We remember yours too, Kate. Even though we just met, I think we’ll get along? Hey, show us around the palace. Let’s get out of here.

He slipped his arm around my waist with a practiced gesture and whispered in my ear.

(Wha…)

The moment I stood my guard, I felt someone tug my arm from the opposite side.

Roger: Sorry to interrupt, but Kate’s got a prior engagement with me.

Kate: Roger!

Roger: The queen’s aide’s great at showing people around the palace. He’ll be delighted. Victor, would you mind showing our guests from Vogel around?

Victor: Yes, of course! I will show you around every nook and cranny.

Nica: (¬_¬)…

Nica narrowed his eyes at Victor and then smiled.

Nica: Vielen Dank (Many thanks)

William: While I’d rather not, it’s time to call it a night.

Darius: You’re right, Lord Rex. We of Vogel would like to get along with Crown like a family. Should you ever be in trouble, we’d be delighted for you to turn to us for help, okay?

--

—In a room in Crown’s castle.

In a luxurious room prepared for Vogel, Darius sat comfortably in his chair and smiled.

Darius: What did you think of our get-together with Crown?

Nica: Amazing. I tried to lure the lrobin, but the hunter got in the way.

Darius: Hunter? Ah, you mean the “double-crossing hunter” Roger Barel. Hehe, wanting to snatch the robin* from them is quite reckless.

Ring: …About Roger Barel and that girl…are they together?

Nica: They’re not. But there’s no doubt that Crown cares for the robin a lot.

Darius: Gathering information is our main goal. It’ll be valuable material for eventually realizing our ambitions. Ring, Nica. Continue to gather any useful information on Crown and Robin.

Nica and Ring: Verstanden/…Understood

Darius: …Roger Barel. A former doctor with a strange fixation of “Cursed Ones”. Does he have a place in our “family”?

--

As the get-together came to a close, people started filing out of the room one after the other.

Before I knew it, even Roger disappeared…—

(H-huh?)

I ran out into the hall and saw his solid back.

Kate: Um, what was that prior engagement you mentioned, Roger…?

When I called out to him, he looked back at me in the empty hallway.

Roger: Did I make a mistake thinking you were in trouble?

You did that to help me? +4 +4

I was in a lot of trouble. +4 +4

You weren’t mistaken. +4 +4

Kate: You didn’t. Thank you.

Roger: You looked like a lost dog so I thought I did you an uncharacteristic favor.

(Dog? …No, I didn’t hear that right)

When I thanked him again, I saw a hint of scheming on his face.

Roger: By the way, I didn’t say I did it for free, did I? You’re gonna have to pay me back for saving you.

(Eh?)

Roger: I was thinking about going out drinking with Ellis and Jude. Join us.

Kate: Huh, now? Woah…Wait, Roger!

--

Roger: Phew~That hit the spot. The first drop of beer’s blood, you know.

Ellis: Heh, that’s what you always say.

Jude: Can’t believe he’s a doctor. Well he’s a quack.

(Before I knew it, I ended up getting dragged to a bar)

(It’s something I’ve noticed, but Roger can be a little…no, very pushy.)

Furthermore, it’s a wonder how Jude, who looked like the type to refuse an invitation, was sitting here with a sour look. 

Red-headed waiter: Here you are. Fish and chips, bramboraky(?)**, and…

Jude: Just how much did ya order? Ya ate a lot at the get-together.

Roger: I never have my fill when picking at those small fancy food.

Ellis: Are you full, Jude? I can still eat.

Jude: You’re still a growin’ kid.

The trio act like close friends…

Kate: Heh, hehe…

I couldn’t help but laugh and Roger squinted at me with a beer in hand.

Roger: The heck, so you can laugh like that after all.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You know you haven’t laughed since you became Fairytale Keeper?

(What…what? But he’s right, this whole week, I haven’t…)

Roger: You don’t eat much and when you do, it’s like you’re chewing sand. Maybe you did…Or I should say, maybe you didn’t notice yourself?

(Tasked to keep a secret for a whole month as a Fairytale Keeper, and to record the evils before my eyes)

(Not to mention…Vogel’s sudden visit)

Desperate to just push through it all, I gradually neglected the things needed to live, like eating and laughing.

I was like a plant slowly wilting away.

Roger: I know you got a lot of things on your mind that make you anxious. But it’s times like these where you gotta work on yourself. Eat, sleep, play, laugh, recharge your energy. Otherwise you’ll easily get swallowed up by despair in this darkness, lil’ lady.

Kate: …

Roger’s words pierced my heart.

(He’s right…What was I so weak for?)

I could struggle all I wanted, but the anxiety would never leave until I’m safely out of this darkness.

I know that…but.

(The only one who can truly protect me, is me)

(I absolutely cannot give in)

Kate: …You’re right. There’s no time for weakness or despair. Thank you Roger. Now then, time to dig in!

As if to get over it…I stuck my fork into the steaming meat before me and brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Mm…delicious.

(...Somehow, it felt like I was properly enjoying food for the first time in a while)

(It’s so good to be alive and have delicious food)

Roger: …

Jude: Oi, who do ya think you are takin’ the first bite.

Kate: Ah, sorry! I got ahead of myself.

Ellis: Don’t worry about it Kate. Here, try these chips with rock salt.

Kate: Wow, this is really good! It pairs well with alcohol.

Roger: Oh, you drink pretty well. Barkeep! Two more beers.

Barkeep: Gotcha. Two large beers comin’ right up.

The golden beer and the food were delicious, and laughter reached my ears.

(...Ah, this is fun. I feel like I’m finally able to breathe)

(He pretty much dragged me here, but I’m glad I accepted Roger’s invitation)

I didn’t know how much of Roger’s actions were calculated and how much was in good faith.

But it’s a fact that his pushiness saved me.

(Roger really does have a lot of common sense and is like a mature older brother)

With those simple thoughts in mind, I continued on drinking and drinking…

--

—I woke up in a soft bed.

(Huh…last night I was drinking at the bar, and)

While in my drowsy and lethargic state, I groped around for a warm cloth when—

Kate: Hm…? …??

(...I’m naked?!)

I quickly wrapped myself up in a blanket with only my face peeking out.

…And noticed something familiar laying by my pillow.

(...Glasses?)

The black-rim and intellectual-looking frame was definitely memorable.

(These glasses…)

The moment I nervously picked them up, the bed squeaked— 

Roger: Hey now, those glasses aren’t a toy…Come on, give it here.

When the glasses were snatched out of my hand, I looked up to see a half-dressed Roger hovering over me.

Kate: …W-why are you here…

When I looked at him, he smiled as if to tell me the question was pointless now.

Roger: You passed out drunk so I had to carry you back. And after dropping you off, you wouldn’t let me go.

Whether it was true or not, the way he said it made it sound like I was pleading for him and my cheeks warmed.

(I-I held Roger back?)

(And…moreover)

My eyes took in his muscular chest and abs that were freely on display.

(T-too much stimulation…)

(I don’t know where to look)

Not just his bare chest.

Muscular arms peeking out from his shirt, broad shoulders that connected to a thick neck, and a lean waist.

(But, he was like beautiful sculpture)

My eyes unconsciously traced the supple skin.

His muscular body disguised his intelligent features and that gap alone was enough to make me dizzy.

Roger: …It’s not bad being ogled like this.

Kate: Eh?!

Roger gave me the wickedest of grins.

I’d been unconsciously staring at his body and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Kate: S-sorry…

Roger: Don’t worry about it. You’re a lot cuter than you were yesterday.

Kate: Did I…end up doing something yesterday?

Roger: “Something”.

Roger lowered himself and whispered to me.

Roger: …Yeah, last night was pretty hot, wasn’t it lil’ lady?

(N-no way…Me and Roger?)

Next

-

*Darius says red riding hood but the subtitle says robin

**Send help. I have no idea what the heck バンブリーキ is. Perhaps bramboraky according to @/hoerayner

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

7: The Summer Days (series masterlist)

summary: 3 weeks after you found out about everything, it seems as if the world became memory lane, numbing everything you felt. But maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: minimal use of Y/N, neglect, depression, making out, suggestiveness, death, underage drinking, rudeness, breaking down mentally and physically, talks about mother and fatherhood, italics are memories/flashbacks

wc: 6.7k+

a/n: i told you i didn’t forget about this series 🤞i also just finished reading the actual book early this july, so it was such an eye opener on how the characters really are

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Coriolanus and cut him out of your life; It’s been two weeks since you graduated high school with his diploma in tow with your own; It’s been exactly one whole week of feeling completely numb to all emotion. You tried to let yourself embrace the pain and truth, but it seemed that you would rather become immune to the truth than face it.

At first, your father encouraged you to take time to heal and think about your situation — how it could affect the Lovett reputation. Then he got tired of constantly dealing with a daughter that got heartbroken by a Snow, a cheater nonetheless. He gave up all attempts to help and understand you. Instead, he indulged himself in handling your future engagement with Festus Creed, roping you along.

You were to be engaged in mid-August, merely a little less than a month away. When you heard of the plans, it only solidified the armor coating your heart and the numbness you felt. Being numb was better than feeling the pain inflicted upon you during the Hunger Games.

“Have you talked to Festus yet?” Clemensia spoke carefully, taking a small sip from her tea.

“About what?” You practically whispered with how softly you were speaking. It occurred to you that you hadn’t spoken more than a few words a day toward others, making your frown deepen.

Clemensia sighed and pulled your hands into her own, rubbing the back of your hands soothingly. “About all of this. I know you didn’t want this, yet it seems like you’re too… Indifferent about the engagement.”

“I don’t get how being engaged and eventually married to Festus would make everything better or worse.” You pull your hands out of her hold. The lack of physical affection made you recoil from any you were to receive. “I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” She glanced at your fidgeting hands and back up to your dulled eyes. It clicked in her head when you tried reaching up to mess with a charm that was missing.

You had lost your light in the world. You lost your silver rose.

She remembered the exact moment when you knew you were utterly in love with Coriolanus. It was a memory she believed was a core part of your life.

“Why are you all smiley?” Clemensia raised her brow at you, watching the exact moment when your eyes practically became hearts.

You became warm at the sight and strong gaze before meeting Clemensia’s eyes instead. “What?”

“Did Coryo arrive?”

“I—“ You try to search for a better excuse for your behavior before finding none, hanging your head low in shame. “Yes.”

Without much thought, Clemensia nudged your arm. “You’re so in love with him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Were you in love with Coriolanus? You had only been dating for a couple of months, but you had known each other since childhood.

“I think I am.” You recount many memories where you never wanted to leave his side, all ending with the same feeling.

“You… What? Where are you going?” She rushed out, following you through the mass of students crowding the house. “You’re gonna tell him? Right now?”

“I mean, why not?” You shrugged. You didn’t think it mattered too much when you said it — especially when you both knew you had some kind of strong feeling pulling at your heartstrings. “Plus, I’m a little tipsy already.”

Clemensia’s mouth dropped in shock. You were so sweet and innocent before Coriolanus got to you. Well, more or less already impure from the books you read and spoke about with her.

You managed to slip right in front of Coriolanus, gaining another smile from the blonde. “Hey, beautiful. I was wondering when I could get to spend some time with you tonight.”

“Well, I’m here.” You lace a hand with him, thumbing the pulse point near his wrist. “And a bit tipsy.”

“How much have you had?” He dropped a hand toward your waist — pulling you close when a group of people ran behind.

“Just a tiny bit.” You pinch together your fingers with little space in between. “I’m not overly drunk or anything.”

Coriolanus hummed as he tilted your head up. He saw your glazed eyes, but he knew you hadn't been drinking so much. He pressed a light kiss on your lips, feeling your smile.

“Can I tell you something?” You whisper with full confidence. He grinned and nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think I love you.”

His eyes widened, searching yours for any other reason you would say such a thing but truth. “You think?”

You tilt your head, “Well, no.” Coriolanus deflated at your response, trying to show no emotion through his facial features. You look between his eyes before frowning, cupping his cheek. “I’m not saying I don’t love you, Coryo. I’m saying ‘No, I don’t think I love you.’ I know I love you.”

He lets a breath of relief out, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Scared me for a second, beautiful.”

“Why?”

“Because I have loved you since the day I understood what feelings were.” He pulled you in for a mind-searing kiss, taking your breath and heart away.

“Oh, Y/N,” Clemensia murmured, holding you to her chest as you numbly let her.

Despite the affection, you felt the heartache from deep within you. It needed to be replaced with something else. Something that could help you recover from the damage and loss.

Wandering the halls of your home was something that you began doing a lot more often since Coriolanus left.

The Lovett Manor held so many memories in your lifetime. From the day you were born to the second the war ended. Each and every memory either good or bad is filled with distinct feelings and secrets only those residing long enough would know of.

Your memory of the Manor was written on the back of your hand, each and every detail embedded in your mind. You knew how many different sets of stairs there were, and how many different times you read the books in the private library. Yet as your hand brushed against the chipped paint of your old nursery and room, memories were faint, like a whisper in the wind.

“Mama?” You whisper, small hands clutching her soft ones. “Don’t leave yet.”

She smiled tenderly at you, tucking pieces of your hair behind your ears and encasing the stuffed bunny in your arms. “You have to sleep, baby.”

“But I’m scared.”

“Of what?” She ran her fingers down your cheeks, rubbing as you tried to find the words to express yourself. “Take your time, it’s alright.”

“I’m scared that you’ll leave me and never come back.” You sniffle, crawling into her lap. “I’m scared I’ll never see you again.”

“I’m right here,” She kissed the top of your head, pointing at your heart. “And I’ll always be there, even if you don’t see me.” She rocked you back and forth, “You’ll always have my love with you… I promise that even if you don’t see Mama, I’ll be watching over you. Like an invisible string.”

“You promise?” You hold your small pinky out, peering up into her loving eyes,

“I promise.” She intertwines her pinky with yours, kissing her thumb to lock it. “Now go to bed, sleepyhead. I love you.”

“I love you more—“

“Miss?” Em knocked on the doorframe of the nursery, causing you to flinch and drop the pink bunny onto the dusted floor. “Sorry to bother you, but Miss Snow is here to see you.”

“I’ll be down in a second, thank you.” You mumble, making up your old bed just as your mother did and tucking the bunny underneath the covers. You missed her dearly. Even the heavens knew how much she meant to you, yet they took her away at such a young age. She would know what to make of your situation. She would beg your father not to marry you off to Festus. She would help you through your heartbreak.

Yet she was gone. But you knew she was there to watch and protect you — tugging at the invisible string.

“Tigris,” You attempted a smile that seemed strained at the least, sitting across from her. She was dressed in her finest, making you question what exactly you were needed for. “Is there anything I can help you with? Would you like some tea?”

She shook her head and politely declined, clasping her hands together. “Oh no, I’ve just come to speak with you — If that’s alright.”

“Of course.” You signal for the Avoxes and your handmaid to leave the room. Silence occupied the space before the blonde spoke again, seemingly less confident than she appeared to be.

“How have you been holding up since… Well, everything.” She waved her hand in the air, recounting the many events that have followed the Hunger Games. Tigris watched you subtly flinch at the implied mention of the games. She knew how they — The tenth annual Hunger Games — were being erased from Panem, hoping it would fade as a mistake and a nightmare. She pursed her lips together, “I know I haven’t been checking in with you, but so many things are happening back at home and it’s just a lot.”

“Don’t stress about me. I’ve been… Coping, for a lack of better words.” You reach for your necklace to find it missing for the nth time since you’ve returned it to its buyer. “I’ve learned to accept my losses with the little dignity I have left. My days are boring and dull, but I’m sure the engagement will liven something up.”

You know the engagement won’t help the least, but why worry Tigris even more?

She widened her eyes in surprise, “Your father is still making you marry Festus?”

“It’ll boost the family name.” You say with sarcasm — the first real emotion you’ve shown in days.

“Y/N…”

“Tigris, if you’ve come to sympathize with me, it’s not needed. I’m doing as well as I can under my circumstances.” You suddenly snap toward the blonde, feeling like it was a ruse to get some kind of emotion out of you.

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it, giving you a turned-down smile. “I’m afraid this conversation has gone in a different direction.” Standing, she nods in respect before quickly adding, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come and find me. Grandma’am and I are more than happy to have you over. And I know it may seem a tad bit weird, but you’re family to us.”

Your gardens were another place you loved dearly. From the hedge maze encasing the fountain in the center to the rows and rows of flowers, each and every one blooming during a different season; It was truly a sight to behold.

As of recently, you found solace in the garden. Of course, you weren’t allowed out of the house without your trusted handmaid, but it still felt nice to just be out where it felt like all your issues were resolved and gone.

Honestly, it felt like you were four again. It felt like you were running through the gardens with no care as to how the world would be when you got older.

Your parents invited the Snows over for dinner, meaning you and Coriolanus were left with your governesses — who made sure you were well-spoken for your age — until dinner started. While your parents were conversing around the gardens, you took it upon yourself to rid the boredom you both felt.

You blew out a hot breath, furrowing your brows in frustration. Pushing yourself up from the plaid blanket, you offer your hand to the blonde boy — tilting your head. “Follow me?”

With almost no hesitation, Coriolanus intertwined your hands together as you both ran away from your two governesses. Your giggles filled the air when you saw they made zero attempts to chase after the two of you. You both raced through the gardens, making twists and turns until you were out of breath.

“Where are we going?” Coriolanus squeezed your hand, following your every turn. When he received no response, he urged you to stop moving, halting his running. “Hello?”

You shush him, releasing his hand to hold onto the railing while pointing toward the setting sun. You push up on the tip of your toes and smile at the many colors painted in the sky. “Look! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Coriolanus was not expecting you to show him the sunset. He’d seen the sunset multiple times, why is it suddenly so special? He shrugged, “I guess.”

Yet you were entranced with the setting sun despite his lack of energy in response. You smiled wide as the wind blew through your unruly hair, “I know it’s beautiful, Coryo.” You turn your head and face him with your splitting grin, light brightening your eyes. “Everything in the sky is beautiful.”

“Like you.” Coriolanus slipped out before shoving a hand in front of his mouth. He watched you step down from the railing, confusion taking over your gaze.

“Me?” You murmur, picking at the bracelet around your wrist. “I’m not nearly as beautiful as my mother, or your mother, for that fact.”

He continued to keep his mouth shut, still shocked at his response.

“Whatever.” You sigh as you lean against the railing once more, repeatedly tugging at the bracelet. “I still think the sky is quite beautiful compared to most things.”

Coriolanus finally shrugged the shock off, moving to stand beside you. “I think you have the sky beat, beautiful.”

You shake your head at the memories flooding your mind. Those memories were too long ago for you to believe Coriolanus still loved you after the stunt he pulled. Taking the cream envelope from your dress pocket, you peel it open, smiling when you recognize Sejanus’ handwriting.

Dearest Flower,

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was recruiting for the peacekeepers until the day I had to leave. But, I do know something that can help you release all the pain without harming yourself mentally. I have a friend in the Capitol who can teach you all you need to know to release the pain about this… Let’s say, dilemma, you have. He lives near the bakery we always visited after school. If you have any questions about it, please write! I already miss your annoying voice. And don’t forget to update me every week!

From District 12,

Sejanus Plinth

P.S. His name is Phineas Miller.

“Wait, rewind.” Clemensia followed you through the Capitol’s square, ever bustling with many of the Capitol’s elite members. “We’re going to the bakery to meet with a guy Sejanus told you about?”

“I trust Sejanus.” You affirm as you push the bakery door open, bell jingling above the both of you. “If Sejanus trusts this Phineas guy, then I trust him too.”

She gave you a look of disbelief, “You realize how dangerous that is right? You could be walking into the arms of a murderer?”

You turn your head away from her and roll your eyes. Weren’t all Capitol students now considered murderers for mentoring students to their deaths? Besides, it’s not like the guy you were going to meet up with was a murderer right? He works part-time at the bakery for Panem’s sake.

“How about you find us a table and I’ll get some pastries for us.” You almost demand as she stalks off to find a table closest to the exit. Shaking your head at her, you glance over the bakery once more.

It had been a while since you’ve gone to this particular bakery, but nothing really changed other than popularity. The pastries looked the same, the rooming looked the same; so you were quite surprised when Sejanus told you the guy was found near here.

“Coryo, you don’t have to buy me the sweets—“

“But I want to.” He cuts you off before placing a soft kiss on your lips when he watches your mood turn sour. “Love you.”

You return the kiss, although begrudgingly. “Love you too.”

“Are you two done? We still have a project to complete.” Felix called out to you, causing the both of you to whip around and glare at the boy. He put his hands up and slowly turned back to Festus and Livia — the pair laughing at his own consequence.

Coriolanus points out the pastries you wanted toward the worker, squeezing your hand every time you tried to interrupt him. You were nervous as you knew how expensive this was going to be, but he was just too stubborn to listen to you.

“Never get between a girl and her sweet, right?” The cashier rang Coriolanus up, tilting his head in your direction.

You shrug and incline yourself closer to the blonde to your left. “Depends if you’re talking about the one currently paying for the food or the actual sweets itself.”

“Touché.” He handed you the containers, giving you a customer service grin.

Glancing down at his name tag before Coriolanus whisks you away with kisses to your temple, you find his name to be—

“Oh, you’re Phineas!” You exclaim at the male working the counter, causing him to give you a weird look. “Sorry, I just had a memory appear and you were in it… Sorry.” You cleared your throat, slowly walking up to the cash register.

“How can I help you?” Phineas wiped the flour off his hands, raising his eyebrows at you. You opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off, snapping his fingers in your direction. “You’re the girl who has a taste for sugary sweets and that scary boyfriend.”

You feel your face contort in displeasure, “Sure, but—“

“Where is he by the way? Isn’t he usually attached to you in some way or form?”

“Do I owe you an explanation? I barely know you.” You tap your fingers on the marble counter. You didn’t think he would be this nosy, but here you were. And you didn’t expect him to remember who you were either…

He shakes his head at you, “Okay okay, how can I help you?”

“Sejanus said I could talk to you? He said that you could help me with a mental exercise or something.” You mutter out, pretending to be interested in the sweets presented in the glass casing.

Phineas’ eyes widened with surprise, “I know I’m being quite annoying, but I didn’t expect you to be the girl Sejanus was talking about.”

“And why is that?”

“Nothing, but will that be all?” He rang you up, making you tilt your head in confusion.

You eye the pastries and back up to his fascinated gaze. Of course, he would pick the same ones Coriolanus picked out for you. “I guess.”

“Great, I’ll see you in a week in the gym next door!” He cheerfully handed you the container, moving on to the line of customers behind you.

“I— What?”

Disappointment was etched onto your face as you let your handmaid dress you. Your father said you were to promenade with Festus today in the parks. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but you were just told this morning, so your mood was more than unkind to those surrounding you.

“Must you tighten it so much?” You grunt as the corset gets pulled harder by Em. “I can barely breathe.”

“Sorry, Miss Lovett. It’s over now.” She ties the back before brushing down the floral sundress that adorned your body. “Will you need me to pick jewelry out or—“

“Thank you, that will be all.” You quickly speak, stepping down from the small stand where the mirror stands. “I’ll call for you when needed.”

She gave you a worrisome look before nodding in respect, shutting the door as she left your room. You purse your lips in frustration the second the door shuts. How could your father drop this on you all of a sudden? You were meant to stop by the Snow’s new place early in the morning to offer a basket of goods and needs, but your plans had now been pushed to late in the evening or tomorrow, which irritated you.

You swiftly snap on a pair of earrings and a golf bracelet, ditching the urge to find a necklace to wear. Glancing at the mirror one last time, you smoothed down the creases you left when digging through your jewelry and tucked stray strands of your hair away. You huffed as you thumbed your wrist, averting your eyes to the top left of the mirror. You don’t know why you still had the photo hanging, but you couldn’t take it down if you tried. It hurt to take it off.

“What did Professor Sickle say again? We only need 10 to 15 minutes in the sun? Or that we need at least 10,000 steps per day?” You wave your hand in the air with no intention of actually recalling what the gym professor said several days ago. “Because I think we’re well past the average.”

“I think I always have been,” Coriolanus spoke with an amused grin, earning a slap to the chest from you. “What? I do a lot of walking, you know this.”

You raise a brow while shaking your head. How could you ever hate Coriolanus Snow? He’s the perfect combination of everything you want and more. It was just a bonus that you knew him long before the war started.

“I can’t believe you said that.” You murmur in amusement, standing back when children run past the both of you — Kites and stuffed animals in tow.

Coriolanus watched your eyes light up at the sight of mothers and their children playing together. He knew how much you missed your own mother despite everything that happened; He also missed his own mother. He continued to observe you when a young girl — seemingly around the age of four — came up to you holding a flower.

“Is this for me?” You lean down and take the rose delicately when she nods shyly. “Well, I think it’s gorgeous, almost as pretty as you are!”

“Are you a princess?” The young girl asked with a curious gaze and reached to feel the silk you wore that day.

You smile and fully crouch down to speak with her, tucking a strand piece of hair behind her ear. “If you say I am, then yes, I am a princess.”

Coriolanus practically melted at the sight of you with children. You adored them, making him wonder how you would be if you decided to have children of your own someday. Perhaps with him…

“Really?” She lit up and held your hands in her own small ones. The young girl was practically bursting with joy, causing your heart to squeeze with happiness. She turned to look at her mother, “Mommy, I found a real-life princess!”

“That’s amazing, baby.” She scooped her child back into her arms and balanced her on her hip. “Sorry about her, we just read a book together about fairytales.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” You take Coriolanus’ hand as you get up, dusting your dress off with a small grin. “I’m glad she has an amazing imagination and such a gorgeous smile.”

“Is that your prince?” She pointed at Coriolanus with a shy smile — hiding her face in her mother’s neck when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“He sure is, isn’t he pretty?”

Coriolanus gave a curt nod in their direction with his pearly whites on display, only reaffirming the young girl’s allegations. He leaned into the child, whispering a secret. “Between you and me, I think the princess is much prettier than I am.”

The little girl giggled, “You’re both pretty.”

“Now what are you telling her, Coryo?” You lean in as well, eyeing the both of them with faux suspicion.

He put his index finger up to his lips, earning another laugh from the young girl. You press a kiss to his cheek as you both lean back, waving goodbye to the girl and her mother. Watching the little girl leave, you felt for your necklace, twisting it around with slight excitement.

“You know, you’re going to be a great mama one day,” Coriolanus whispered by your ear as you continued your stroll around the park, hands intertwined once more.

You blush profusely at the thought of raising a child, nevertheless Coriolanus’ child. “Well, you would be a great father.” You peck his lips, smiling when he chased after them when pulling away.

Later that day you were approached by a photographer from the same park, handing you a print of the photo he took of you and Coriolanus after you interacted with the young girl. You thanked him, pointing out the bright smiles on your faces to your partner as he listened intently to you.

“Y/N?” Festus lightly tapped on your hand, causing you to blink your thoughts out of your head and focus back on the conversation. “Are you alright?”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded, “Yeah, sorry, just got inside my own mind.”

“You know, I don’t want this as much as you do.” He fiddled with the box in his jacket pocket, watching you give him a curious look. “And I’m sorry your father moved it up without telling you, so I won’t make it a spectacle for them.”

“Festus, no…” You tilt your head down as you feel the tears spring up in your eyes. This wasn’t how your father told you the whole engagement was planned, and it truly hurt how he defied your wishes of waiting a little longer for the proposal.

Festus handed you the ring and pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you let your tears fall onto his pressed suit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You let yourself cry in the embrace of Festus. Despite his normally irritating behavior, he was one of your closest friends — and you seriously needed some time to think about what your future would look like. After a few minutes, you cried all your tears and let Festus take you home. He offered a few words to your father before bidding you a ‘good night.’

That night — and the next few nights — you fiddled with the engagement ring adorning your finger while crying to sleep, begging the numbness to come back. You trapped yourself inside your bedroom, only letting Em enter and leave. You ate minimally and answered in short sentences. It was only when you realized you had to visit Phineas that you left your room.

“Miss Lovett, your father—“

“—Will not care what I do as long as I leave my room.” You stop walking, pausing your handmaid’s steps as well. “You and our driver may pick me up in about an hour or later.”

“Do you not want company, Miss?” She caught your arm before you entered the gym — an old, rundown one she might add. “This place doesn’t seem like anywhere you should be.”

You tilt your head and silently ask her to leave you alone. “Em, I’m simply meeting someone who can help me. Sejanus referred me to him.”

She reluctantly let go of your arm, frowning at your stubbornness. “We’ll pick you up in exactly one hour, do you understand?”

You nodded and pushed open the creaking door, wincing when it slammed shut. The inside of the gym was a surprise, considering the outside was old. Everything inside was new or slightly used. Many people were conversing while working out, making you wonder how exactly you were going to find Phineas. Luckily your panic was short-lived as he approached you first.

“Hey, you actually showed up.” He grinned, this time dusting chalk off his hands. “Welcome to the Capitol’s Gym.”

You pull an unamused smile, glancing back at your outfit and then back to what Phineas was wearing. “I feel like I’m underdressed here.”

“Don’t worry too much about that. I’ll just be testing what you know today anyway.” He guided you further into the gym and chuckled at how you gave everything a curious glimpse.

“Phineas—“

“Call me Finn. Every time someone says Phineas I feel like I’m getting lectured.” He tugged a black shirt on and took a swig of water.

You raise a brow but don’t question it, “Okay, Finn, what do you mean by ‘what I know?’ Sejanus didn’t really clarify what you would be doing to help me, per se.”

He gave you a toothy grin, “How well can you box?”

Safe to say you were in shock at the question.

For the next hour, Finn gave you a rundown of how your training every week was going to go. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, you would work with him on boxing techniques and basic self-discipline. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you would work on exercises with the different machines and items, still coached by Finn.

He also taught you the basic skills after you discussed your schedule. He taught you different stances, jabs, and tricks in the ring. Eventually, the exhaustion got to you, refusing to go through another round of Finn blocking your every jab.

“I didn’t need to know that about you.” You wipe the sweat off your brow, catching the bottled water from him.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while and you won’t do any of the talking, so here we are.” He shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “You’re not bad for a first-time boxer, you’ll get good within time.” Finn catches the shine of your engagement ring for the first time, a look of surprise taking over his face. “Did blondie propose to you?”

“What?” You stand up straight and harden your look at the male in front of you.

“You have a ring on your finger.” He points out the obvious, tilting his head to the side.

You frown at the observation, “It’s not— He and I broke up before graduation.” Finn dropped his jaw in shock before shutting it back up when you glared. “During the Hunger Games, my father concocted a deal with the Creeds. So I’m stuck with Festus.” You spin the ring on your finger, hating the feeling. “He’s not horrible, but I just wish my father would let me be for once.” You shrug, reaching for a necklace that was missing. “But everything is about the Lovett appearance.”

Two more weeks passed since that conversation and you finally had the reins of boxing. It was a way to mentally recover from the pain Coriolanus and your father left you with. You also got closer to Finn during those two weeks. It was easy to get along with him when you ignored all his nosy inquiries. You learned that he had multiple little jobs, intriguing you in the best way possible. This led to you explaining — to a very pouty Finn — why you had to leave your session with him earlier.

“Okay, but you wanted to come in today. I asked you a week ago about this.” Finn walked by your side as you slung your gym bag over your shoulder.

“Yes, I know that.” You avoid the questioning looks from bystanders in the gym. “But I haven’t visited Tigris in forever, and I have to visit or she’ll come to my house. Unannounced. Again.”

Finn raises his brow, “You say that like it’s a bad thing your ex’s cousin wants to visit you.”

“Ha ha.” You push the door open, wind rushing through the sundress that you had in handy. “I already called earlier to tell her we were going to bake together and talk about what’s happening—“

“You should totally bring some of those pastries over for me tomorrow, sweets.” He leaned against the brick wall, waving at your driver as they were suddenly well acquainted over the past few weeks.

You narrow your eyes at the male, getting a toothy grin back. “Whatever, Finn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a wave as you drove away toward the Snows’ new place. Tigris said that she would meet you at the front of the building, which caused you to delve into more confusion. Although you knew about their situation, you didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. According to the gossip being spread amongst the Capitol Elites, they were sent to live with a man named Pluribus, who apparently also knew about their poverty.

Even after all these years with the Snows, you still knew nothing much about that.

Your mind pretty much consisted of the same thoughts until — what you assumed was since Tigris was standing outside — their new place came into view. You traded your gym bag for your bag of goodies and ingredients for baking, thanking your driver before stepping out. Immediately, Tigris walked over to help you, giving you a small smile.

“I hope you’re up to make chocolate muffins. Grandma’am has been dying to have some.” The blonde guided you over to their flat, almost causing you to go into cardiac arrest when you saw the place. Even their old penthouse was better than this place.

For once, you and Coriolanus were alone in the Snow penthouse. Tigris was out for work late and Grandma’am was tending to her rooftop garden, which could take hours; not that the both of you were complaining. At first, you and Coriolanus were making a batch of cookies for his family. But it slowly became apparent that you both couldn’t focus on that task. Simply because Coriolanus was absolutely smitten with you.

You grinned into the kiss when Coriolanus pulled you up onto the wooden table, letting him slot himself in between your legs.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He squeezed your hip before nipping your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. “I don’t think I say that enough.”

You pull apart from him, slightly tugging at his blonde locks to get him to listen. “You say it a lot more than you think you do, Coryo.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He plants kisses on your neck, sucking softly on your sensitive spot — one he found a while ago and always used it against you.

You quietly shifted yourself against him, doing your best to stay still and hushed. “Coryo…”

“Mm?” He trailed his kisses lower, making you feel like your skin was on fire.

“I don’t think we should do this right now— Coriolanus!” You grip onto his back as—

“Coryo?” Tigris called out from the hall before freezing and whipping back around. “Never mind!”

You flush red at Tigris’ comment, quickly jumping off the creaking table and steadying yourself in Coriolanus’ arms. He quickly adjusted himself while you fixed his and your outfit.

“Beautiful—“

“Not a word.” You put a finger up to silence him, washing the dishes you used to make the cookies.

It was clear after that incident that you and Coriolanus were no longer allowed to be home alone anymore; Even if Grandma’am constantly questioned why.

You suddenly registered Grandma’am’s voice, causing you to blush at the memory that reappeared. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

The older woman shook her head, “You might have to ask Tigris about that mixture, sweetheart. I think she forgot a step in the muffin recipe.”

Glancing down at the bowl in your hands, you scrunch your nose at the lumps — thanking Grandma’am before carrying it over to where Tigris went to grab something.

“Tigris? I need your help with something. I don’t think I made this the right way.” You frown at the mixing bowl in your arms and show her. The lumps were following the rest of the batter down, making you grimace. When she didn’t answer, you glanced up at her, freezing when you met a pair of blue eyes that made your knees weak. You spun the ring on your finger, “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t know—“

“It’s just Coryo.” She gave you a sad smile, nodding when her cousin spoke to her.

You purse your lips and wander back into the kitchen, arms tighter around the mixing bowl. Not what you were expecting when you visited the Snow residence.

To say you came running to Finn’s place a week after your visit with no rhyme or reason was a lie. Where else could you go? You knew he was up at this hour, but he would question your motives for appearing at his house with no other explanation except for your needing to let off some steam.

“You come here in the middle of the night to what? Just brush up on some skills?” Finn blocked your punches, small grunts leaving his mouth at your intensity.

“Sure.” You sucker punch him in the stomach, causing him to recoil. All in all, you did come to polish up certain points in your boxing classes, but you couldn’t bear the weight of the news you received earlier — plus your small interaction with Coriolanus.

“A letter for you, Miss.” Em handed you the cream envelope, making you smile.

You thought Sejanus forgot about writing to you after weeks of zero contact. Swiftly, you peel the wax seal off and unfold the letter, eyes dragging across the perfect cursive.

That wasn’t Sejanus’ handwriting. You froze in horror at the last few sentences, your heart hammering against your chest. Sejanus was gone? No, he was fine when he last mailed you… Despite that being weeks ago. There was no way he was gone and taken away from the world.

“Miss?” Em called out to you, watching silent tears fall.

“Hey!” Phineas snapped his fingers in front of your dazed gaze. “What happened?”

“Sejanus is dead.” You choke out, finally letting the exhaustion and pain take over your body. You collapsed in his arms, sobs echoing through the gym. Gone was the numbness you succumbed to. The pain engulfs you like waves crashing down onto the sandy shoreline.

He stroked your hair — doing his best to soothe you. “I know, I know… You’ll be fine.” Finn continued to murmur small reassurances toward you, every so often checking in to make sure you were well enough to move up and out of the rink.

Eventually, you calmed down enough to stop the immense sobbing. But it didn’t stop the need for mourning and finding out the truth about Sejanus’ death.

“Hey, did we find information on the death?” You interrupt Finn’s rant about the bakery refusing him to give food out to the homeless and hungry.

He hummed, handing you the notebook. “According to some District Twelve officers, he was involved with rebels who then betrayed him to get back to the Capitol. But these could just be rumors, there’s no confirmation about anything.”

You quickly scan through the data Finn collected from the different sources, noting that they all had one thing in common. However, one officer reported something different. “Well we knew Sejanus was a rebel already, but what’s this about a peacekeeper betraying him and turning him into the Capitol authorities?”

Finn glanced at the page you were pointing at before shrugging, “That’s from a guy who’s always drunk during the weekends. Not a reliable source.”

“Then why write it?” You cock your head to the side with a lopsided grin.

“To make my job seem important, sweets.” He snatched the book from your hands and tossed it on the desk. “Besides, we have more pressing matters about this plan of yours now.”

“Are we confirming it was a rebel betrayal then?”

“Based on the information? Yes.”

Tapping your fingers on the cup of your hot chocolate, you bit your lip in thought. What did Finn say about the next rebel collision…? You shook your head and continued to write what your plans were for the rest of the week. You had to stop by the orphanage, visit the modiste for your dress fitting, and—

“Snow.” A barista called out in the cafe, causing you to snap your head up. Of course, you Tigris was here. She frequently visited this cafe with you this summer, so you scanned the store but ended up locking eyes with the only other Snow physically capable of making their way over to the cafe.

You watched his eyes flit down to your hand, causing you to tuck your hand underneath your planner and focus back on your planner.

When the fuck did Coriolanus come back from peacekeeping?

taglist 1: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @psychicpuppyarcade @whodis-26 @coconut-dreamz @slytherinholland @lacysversion @perks-of-being-jojo @itzmeme @noodlesketchbook @upsidedownjill @mizuki80 @unclecrunkle @tiaamberxx @bxtchopolis @starrynightstory @namelesslosers @lugiastark @dangelnleif @aemondsb1tch @witchsbitchestime @ace-spades-1 @ordinarylokix @kookie29 @secretsicanthideanymore @angelscrime @ms-longbeach @rosieleej @alpha-mommy69 @loklaufeysonssgodess @aoi-targaryen @imaginebeingmentallystable @sighsophiia @innercreationflower @cascadingbliss @edb954 @castellandiangelo @nowitsmissing @lookclosernow @httpfandxms @goobitagoobre @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @captainbabybear @becauseseaotters @mvdhvtterxx @moonisu @boredperson120 @kuroosbby001 @dcylight-fciry (comment to be added!)

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[stolasbuckzo]

Subjective topics:

‘Once a cheater always a cheater’

Yes, in other circumstances where both parties are emotionally invested, I believe infidelity is considered cheating. I'm not justifying Stolas's actions, but legally, I feel that if he is unhappy, not emotionally engaged, and in an abusive relationship, he has the right to make those choices because he isn't emotionally committed to Stella.

The phrase "once a cheater, always a cheater" implies a repeated pattern, but I don't think that applies to Stolas. From what I understand, he had an affair with one person—multiple times with Blitz —because of his specific situation with Stella. Their relationship, in my view, was based purely on duty and the need to ensure there was an heir for the Goetia (royal) family

Stolas openly acknowledges his ‘infidelity’ to Stella at the end of “The Circus,” and I feel like this scene is often overlooked by so many people. In my opinion, this moment is important because it shows his awareness of his actions and their consequences.

"I know what I did. I would feel bad if I hurt you, but we both know I didn't do that. You and I were arranged for one reason; to birth a precautionary heir to the Goetia family, nothing more. I tried so many years to make it comfortable for us; to have this family, but it was never enough. The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life. ...I cannot do this anymore. I want you out. Now."

Stolas, who is currently somewhat committed to Blitz—but likely won’t become official until at least sometime in Season 3—I don’t believe would cheat on him. I think Stolas has loved Blitz for a very long time, since he was a child, and I feel he wouldn’t risk damaging their relationship after everything they’ve been through: months of pining, strained tension, and emotional hurt on both sides. What strengthens this belief for me is the moment in "Sinmas" where, while off his meds and clearly an emotional wreck, Stolas felt guilty about a client whose relationship mirrored his own with Stella. The client's request for I.M.P to kill her husband for cheating clearly struck a nerve, and I think it shows how deeply Stolas values the concept of loyalty when he truly cares for someone

I’ve seen people suggest that Stolas might end up with the “Better Than Blitzo” succubus—who, by the way, he just made out with, but that doesn’t mean he has feelings for him—or even Vassago, but I honestly don’t see that happening either. To me, Stolas’s arc is clearly building toward an official relationship with Blitz, who has been his childhood crush. Changing that pairing now would feel rushed and, in my opinion, like poor writing, unless it occurred during another “break-up” period, which I think is unlikely. (Honestly, I see Vassago as more of Stolas’s gay best friend than a romantic option.)

If Stolas and Blitz were to mutually agree to an open relationship—potentially including someone like Vassago—that would be a completely different situation. However, I personally see Stolas as someone who gives off very monogamous energy. (Of course, I could be wrong, and Viv might eventually confirm otherwise, but for now, I interpret Stolas as someone who deeply values a one-on-one connection.)

The transactional relationship:

I used to believe that Stolas was deliberately withholding Blitz’s business by keeping the grimoire over his head, and honestly, I think a lot of people saw it that way too—especially during season one when we had little context about his character or intentions. At the time, I agreed with that perspective because it seemed logical without knowing much else. However, as the show has progressed over nearly three seasons, I’ve come to realize that it’s more complex than that. I don’t think Stolas was intentionally using the grimoire to control Blitz’s business; instead, I see it as him being desperate for an emotional connection with someone outside of his toxic marriage. He wanted something deeper from Blitz, something Blitz couldn’t emotionally provide at that time, though Blitz was willing to engage with him sexually.

I also feel sad when people reduce their relationship to things like “Stockholm syndrome” or “prostitution in a sexual form.” In my view, that’s not an accurate way to interpret their dynamic. For me, it’s now clear that Stolas was seeking emotional fulfillment, while Blitz was more focused on his career and had no interest in emotional vulnerability back then. Their motivations were entirely different, but neither one was exploiting the other in the way those terms imply.

As for the idea that either Blitz or Stolas SA’d the other, I don’t see how that holds up. Yes, Blitz used his charm and flirtation as a tactic to steal the grimoire, but here’s the thing: Stolas didn’t reject him. He was clearly flustered and awkward, but his attraction to Blitz was obvious, and he consented to their interaction. He could have said no at any point, but he didn’t—because he wanted it, too.

I also don’t believe either of them could have forced the other into something they didn’t want. Both of them are fighters in their own way. Blitz is physically capable, with his assassin training, and Stolas is a Goetia with powerful magic—not to mention his ability to throw a punch when necessary. If either one of them felt genuinely threatened, I doubt they would have gone through with it.

To me, everything about their arrangement appears entirely consensual. I see how both had something to gain from it—Blitz gained access to the grimoire for his business, while Stolas received the sexual intimacy he desired. Their relationship has always felt layered and complicated, but I’m confident it wasn’t coercive or predatory in nature.

Bonus:

“Bad dad” Stolas:

I believe Stolas did struggle as a parent back in Season 1, but I think it’s important to acknowledge the context of his situation. In many ways, he was essentially a “single parent” during his marriage to Stella, who showed little to no interest in actively raising Octavia. To me, this is highlighted by young Octavia only drawing pictures of herself and Stolas—a small but telling detail that reflects the negative and distant relationship she had with her mother. I feel this dynamic explains a lot about Octavia’s preference for her father’s presence and support, as well as the much closer bond they shared.

In my view, Stolas has come a long way since then—nearly three seasons ago. By the time Season 3 arrives, I think it will be evident just how much he’s grown, both as a person and as a father. While I recognize that he still makes mistakes with Octavia, I believe his determination to be a better parent is undeniable. For instance, in Seeing Stars, I was struck by how he practically broke down the door at I.M.P after learning Octavia was missing. Even with the tension between him and Blitz after Ozzie’s, his focus wasn’t on their strained relationship or the grimoire being lost—it was entirely on Octavia. To me, that moment showed how deeply Stolas cares about his daughter’s safety, even in the midst of personal turmoil.

I feel Stolas’s primary focus in that episode was entirely on finding Octavia, not on romanticizing his relationship with Blitz. The only moment that deviated from this was a brief instance of vulnerability due to his stage fright, where Blitz stepped in to help. To me, this wasn’t a calculated move to create romantic tension; it felt like a genuine moment of support. Blitz, on the other hand, seemed captivated by Stolas’s human form, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it “simping.” For me, this dynamic reflects how much their interactions have shifted since Season 1, where Stolas often made overt advances toward Blitz, who seemed uninterested and more focused on his business. I think this evolution in their relationship is subtle but worth acknowledging.

Mastermind further reinforced, in my opinion, just how much Stolas cares about Octavia. The very first thing he says is, “What about my daughter?” To me, that response speaks volumes. For someone so often criticized as a “bad dad” or accused of not caring about Octavia, his immediate concern for her in a moment of crisis makes his priorities clear. I also think Stolas understands how far Stella will go to turn Octavia against him. In Seeing Stars, Stella outright says, “You’re turning her against me,” which, to me, highlights her bitterness and manipulative tendencies. I believe Stella has already proven she’s willing to emotionally harm and isolate her daughter to serve her selfish agenda, which makes Stolas’s efforts to connect with Octavia even more admirable.

At the end of the day, I see Stolas as a flawed but evolving character. He makes mistakes, but I believe he’s actively working to be better—not just for himself, but for Octavia as well. To me, his growth shows that effort and intention matter, even if change takes time. I appreciate how the show offers a nuanced look at the complexities of his relationships, reminding me that nobody is perfect, but the willingness to grow and try again is what counts most.

“Stolas always 'choosing' Blitz over Octavia” Debate:

Blitz:

In the episode “Loo Loo Land” Stolas proposed a daddy-daughter outing, not realizing that Octavia had outgrown of the theme park. He also invited Blitz along, likely wanting two of his favorite people to be in the same space. I believe Stolas may have subconsciously hoped they might bond, even though it wasn’t the most appropriate setting for them to interact. Blitz, while maintaining his usual sarcastic and brash demeanor, did take his role as Stolas’s bodyguard seriously, stepping up to protect them when chaos erupted.

When Octavia ran off, Stolas immediately followed to ensure she was okay, prioritising her feelings and demonstrating how deeply he cares for her. I don’t interpret this as Stolas “choosing” Blitz over his daughter. While he may have initially seemed to prioritize Blitz’s company—seeking the emotional connection he was clearly missing—his actions ultimately reinforced his unwavering dedication to Octavia. For me, this episode highlights Stolas’s love for his daughter, even amid the distraction of Blitz’s presence.

Stolas’s decision in “Mastermind” to intervene and take Blitz’s place felt like a defining moment for his character. I believe he could have stayed silent and allowed Blitz’s sentence to unfold, but to me, that would have been morally indefensible. Blitz didn’t deserve such a cruel fate, no matter how strained their relationship had been since Ozzie’s. In my view, allowing Blitz to suffer would have gone completely against the principles Stolas embodies—love, loyalty, and a willingness to protect those he cares about.

I feel like Blitz’s reaction to Stolas’s sacrifice speaks volumes. Blitz would have literally died if Stolas hadn’t stepped in, and when Blitz broke down crying, I saw so much more than guilt or sorrow. To me, it was raw, unfiltered emotion—a gut-wrenching realization of just how close he came to losing everything. I think dismissing that scene as anything less than pivotal would undermine the depth of Blitz’s emotions and the gravity of the situation they both faced.

In my opinion, Mastermind cut through all of Blitz’s snark, emotional walls, and self-destructive tendencies, exposing his true feelings. The moment was raw and terrifying, a rare glimpse into how much Stolas truly means to him—even if Blitz struggles to express it. I believe Blitz wasn’t just mourning what could’ve happened; he was shaken to his very core by how close he came to losing someone who genuinely loves him. To me, Stolas didn’t just save Blitz’s life physically—he made a profound statement that Blitz was worth saving. For someone like Blitz, who has battled self-worth issues for years, that act carried an extraordinary emotional weight.

What stood out to me wasn’t just the act itself, but the instinct behind it. Stolas’s willingness to endure that torment—to take Blitz’s place without hesitation—wasn’t a calculated romantic gesture. It felt pure and instinctual, driven by the simple fact that Blitz’s safety mattered more to him in that moment than his own. To me, this selfless act shattered Blitz’s defences in a way nothing else could. It forced him to confront the reality that someone valued him unconditionally, enough to sacrifice without expecting anything in return. I feel that kind of love and selflessness directly challenges Blitz’s belief that he’s undeserving of love, making this moment one of the most emotionally profound in their entire relationship.

In “Sinmas,” I can understand how it might seem like Stolas ‘chose’ Blitz, especially when viewed out of context. I can see how some might jump to the conclusion that Stolas ‘fell out of love’ with Blitz simply because he didn’t hug him back. However, I don’t believe that’s the case. When Stolas told Blitz, “Go enjoy yourself, Blitz. You don’t have to stay here with me,” I feel he was actually giving Blitz an out, not rejecting him outright. If Stolas truly didn’t have feelings for Blitz, he wouldn’t have:

1. Stolas accepted the dance with Blitz

2. Reciprocated Blitz’s mild flirting about their height difference.

3. Laughed —which is a positive sign— so warmly, with an undertone of love and affection.

4. The lyrics of the song highlight their relationship as they danced

You pack a bag, you say goodbye

You kiss me on the cheek and look me in the eye

You tell a lie that you will soon return to me

I loved you then, I love you still

And now, it won’t be long until you’re here at last

And then I ask if your heart still burns for me.

To me, these moments show that Stolas does still love Blitz. He wasn’t rejecting him but was instead emotionally exhausted after everything he’d been through—particularly the estrangement from Octavia and the strain in their father-daughter relationship. That emotional weight affected how he expressed his feelings in the moment.

The second thing I notice is that people often assume this moment signals a “role reversal” for Season 3 because Stolas keeps pulling away from Blitz whenever one of them reaches out. However, I see it differently. I think his behavior stems from the alienation he feels from his daughter and the unresolved tension between him and Blitz. Just because they kissed and are somewhat together doesn’t mean everything that happened from Ozzie’s onward has been forgotten. As someone who has experienced heartbreak—especially when someone has broken my heart multiple times—I understand how natural it is to pull away. There’s always that lingering uncertainty, that fear of being hurt again if I let myself move forward, and I see that reflected in Stolas’s hesitation.

(Pretty sure it’s not — because imps are actually fire resistant but it could have been automatic reaction so Blitz wasn’t burned by the embers of the cigarette which is a very stark contrast parallel to “Moon Harvest Festival” episode— or Stolas pulled away because he didn’t feel like sharing his cigarette 😂)

Octavia:

I completely understand why someone might empathise with Octavia’s feelings of “abandonment” and frustration, but I think it’s also important to consider Stolas’s perspective. When Octavia confronts him about “choosing” Blitz over her, I see the emotional weight of her words as reflective of her experience, even though I don’t think it fully captures the reality of the situation.

In my opinion, Stolas’s involvement with Blitz is often misinterpreted as selfishness. I see it as a response to deeper personal struggles, which I feel people sometimes confuse with “abandonment” or a “lack of care for Octavia”. From my perspective, Stolas trapped in a loveless marriage and burdened by duty, finds in Blitz his first genuine connection and sense of freedom in years. To me, this doesn’t erase Stolas’s mistakes as a father, but it does provide context. His actions aren’t about not loving Octavia—they’re about seeking emotional fulfilment (which was also one sided at that point) in a life where he’s felt stifled for so long.

The tragedy, as I see it, is that Stolas’s search for connection unintentionally creates distance between him and his daughter, even though she’s always a priority in his heart. For me, this complexity adds depth to their relationship, showing that love and struggle can coexist in ways that are difficult to navigate.

In my view, Stolas’s growth is undeniable. As Season 2 progresses, I’ve noticed how his priorities are shifting, and his love for Octavia shines through in his actions. To me, this isn’t a narrative about “abandonment”—it’s about him learning to balance his own happiness with being a present father.

I’ll admit that Season 1 Stolas was caught up in his personal struggles, but I don’t think the claim that “he never prioritized Octavia” holds up anymore. From my perspective, Season 2 Stolas is making an effort, and I believe that matters much more than anything else.

What stands out most to me is that Stolas directly acknowledges his mistakes. He doesn’t dismiss Octavia’s feelings or try to invalidate them—he listens, apologizes, and actively works to reconnect with her. To me, his self-awareness and genuine efforts to grow give him real depth as a character. I don’t see him as selfish or neglectful—not in an irredeemable way, at least. (Unlike Stella, who, in my opinion, represents a whole different level of bad parenting.)

I think it’s important to recognize that Stolas’s love isn’t limited to Octavia. His actions and body language clearly show that his love for Blitz (romantically) and Octavia (familially) manifests in different ways, but both are equally deep and sincere. To me, this duality speaks volumes about the complexity of his character and the depth of his emotions.

I also feel that Stolas’s familial love could naturally extend to others, like Loona, even though their relationship hasn’t fully developed yet. In my opinion, while they’ve only interacted briefly as coworkers for a single day, there’s potential for him to form meaningful bonds possibly explored in season 3.

On another note: I don’t believe there are any “sides” here from a viewer’s perspective. In my way of thinking, the only one who perceives “sides” is Octavia, and I feel that’s because she’s the one directly affected by the miscommunication between her and her dad. Her pain, as I see it, understandably skews her perception of the situation. While Stolas did explicitly say, “it was all my choice” in reference to the events leading up to his banishment and estrangement from his daughter, I don’t believe this means he is actively “choosing” one over the other. To me, this dynamic is deeply complicated and serves to highlight the depth and intricacy of all the relationships involved.

“I love you, Via. So, so much. Please, sweetie, let me explain.”

I believe Stolas’s feelings for Blitz doesn’t diminish his love for Octavia. In my view, the idea that he’s “choosing” one over the other overlooks the core of who he is. I feel Octavia’s pain is absolutely valid, but I think it stems more from miscommunication and — unintentional— emotional distance than from any genuine abandonment on Stolas’s part.

(That being said, I can’t ignore how things escalated when Octavia disowned him completely. To me, this underscores just how deeply their miscommunication has impacted their relationship, with hurt feelings compounding on both sides)

“No! No, never Via! *grabs Octavia's hands* Sweetie, please. You have always been the ONLY good thing in my life!”

I feel that despite Stolas’s efforts to explain and reconnect, Octavia’s pain drives her to push him away, refusing to hear his side. From my perspective, it’s a heartbreaking moment that reveals just how deeply she’s been hurt. I believe Stolas’s love for her never wavers, but I also think that love alone isn’t always enough to instantly mend such profound fractures in their relationship.

“Via, no! I didn't I just- I had to. You don't understand.”

I think Octavia’s perception of the situation is a crucial part of the story. I notice that much of the narrative is shown through her perspective—how she feels about her father’s actions and the relationships around her. From what I see, all she seems to know is that her father cheated on her mother. She doesn’t understand the “why” behind his actions, or if she does, it feels like she has only a limited understanding of it. I get the impression that she’s unaware of the extent of her parents’ toxic relationship or the events that led up to his affair.

What Octavia does see, loud and clear, is Stolas’s feelings for Blitz. To her, it seems like he’s constantly “choosing” Blitz over her, and I think this is heartbreakingly evident in her emotional outbursts—“Are you going to run away with him?” and “You never loved Mama, you never loved me, you love him!” To me, these words reflect a raw, painful place for her to be, and I feel her emotions in these moments are entirely valid. The weight of her pain is something I don’t think anyone should dismiss or minimize.

From my perspective as part of the audience, though, I see the full picture. Stolas’s choices—while imperfect—aren’t as simple as “abandoning Octavia for Blitz”. The tragedy, as I see it, lies in the disconnect between what Stolas knows and what Octavia believes. Even after the events of “Sinmas,” Octavia still views her father’s actions as him ‘leaving her for Blitz’, despite the reality that Stolas was exiled and had no choice but to live with him. I feel this misunderstanding continues to shape how she sees both her father and his relationship with Blitz. To me, this heartbreaking disconnect only deepens the complexity of their dynamic, making it all the more layered and compelling.

Stella "is" a good person:

I think it’s important to consider Stella’s role in all of this. From my perspective, it’s entirely plausible that she has been feeding Octavia lies about Stolas, twisting events to frame him as the villain. This belief is reinforced by the moment when Octavia says to Stolas, “Was I some sort of obligation?” after discovering his pills. While I understand that she has two well-spoken and formal parents, that particular phrasing feels unusually formal for a 17-year-old who is supposed to ‘live a normal life’. She could have just said something like, “Was I some kind of chore?” which would feel more natural and age-appropriate.

The use of the word “obligation” feels especially suspect—it’s a term that seems more aligned with Stella’s manipulative rhetoric. Considering what we’ve seen of Stella’s behavior, this kind of psychological manipulation fits her character perfectly and mirrors patterns commonly observed in other abusers. I can’t help but feel she’s intentionally weaponizing Octavia as a pawn in her vendetta against Stolas. By driving a wedge between father and daughter, she gains a powerful advantage, particularly as their estranged relationship could serve her interests in the long run.

Stella’s behavior toward Octavia unsettles me even more when I consider how it escalates during Mastermind. When Octavia believes her father is dead—or at least permanently gone—I can see how Stella uses that as an opportunity to deepen her control over her daughter. Without Stolas in the palace, I feel like Stella has fewer barriers to exploit Octavia emotionally and manipulate her further. While I noticed this subtly in “Mastermind”, it feels far more overt by the time “Sinmas” unfolds. When Stella sneers, ‘He thinks he’s going to talk to HIS daughter,’ it strikes me as a deeply revealing moment. I interpret her words as an indication that Stella doesn’t even view Octavia as her child but rather as some kind of obligation or tool to wield against Stolas. That mindset, to me, underscores just how much her abuse shapes the dynamic between father and daughter.

When I reflect on the dynamic between Stella and Octavia, I see how it remained ambiguous early on, but Season 2 has made it clear their relationship is not only strained but also quietly abusive. I believe Stella would never want Stolas to realise the extent of her mistreatment of Octavia, knowing he would immediately take his daughter’s side. To me, that knowledge likely drives Stella’s manipulative tactics even further.

From my perspective, Stella has consistently demonstrated that she prioritizes herself above all else, showing little to no regard for her daughter’s well-being. I noticed this early on in “Seeing Stars”, when Young Octavia called out for her mother and was met with child neglect straight up. I can’t help but feel that Stella’s hatred for Stolas has deeply influenced Octavia’s perception of him. It seems to me that by blaming Stolas for the family’s problems, Stella is not only deflecting responsibility but also reshaping the narrative to fit her own self-serving agenda.

I think it’s important to call this what it is—emotional manipulation, not to mention neglect, which I view as a form of abuse. While I notice some parallels between Stella and Stolas’s flaws, I believe she lacks any of his redeeming qualities. In my opinion, Stella’s mistreatment of Octavia feels deliberate, rooted in her bitterness toward Stolas. Since Octavia takes after her father in both appearance and personality, I imagine that resemblance serves as a painful reminder of Stolas’s presence, fueling Stella’s resentment and influencing how she interacts with her daughter.

Thinking about all of this, I find myself reflecting on an observation someone made about the stark differences in the way Octavia hugs her parents:

1. Notice the way Octavia hugged her Dad in “Seeing Stars” versus her mother?

Octavia’s arms go around Stolas WITHOUT hesitation!

Girl did NOT want to be hugged by her mother— Octavia even backs away from Stella and her arms are stiff by her sides compared to the first picture above.

I see Octavia’s relationships with her parents as deeply reflective of how she perceives trust and safety. When I think about the moment Octavia hugs Stella, I notice a sense of wariness—maybe even fear. I can’t blame her for that. After all, she’s witnessed domestic abuse firsthand, watching Stella throw things at Stolas. Even if she wasn’t directly involved, I imagine that would leave lasting scars.

This realization made me rethink Stella’s behavior. To me, her manipulation isn’t subtle—it’s emotional abuse disguised as affection. That makes me see how fragile and unhealthy Octavia’s trust in her mother really is. From my perspective, Octavia doesn’t turn to Stella for love or comfort but because fear and manipulation have warped her idea of security.

I feel like Octavia’s continued pursuit of Stella’s approval, despite recognizing her toxicity on some level, speaks volumes about the family dynamics at play. To me, it’s not about Octavia choosing Stella over Stolas—it’s about how manipulation can distort someone’s sense of safety, even when the truth is painfully clear.

When I think about Octavia’s relationship with Stolas, I feel there’s a stark contrast to how she interacts with Stella. Their bond, as I see it, was built on trust and love. I never got the sense that Octavia feared Stolas the way she seems to fear Stella. To me, her frustration with Stolas feels rooted in hurt rather than fear—hurt stemming from the fear of being abandoned, not of being harmed, not that he would either. I believe her anger and disappointment are born out of unmet expectations and emotional distance rather than anything abusive. That’s why their falling out feels so heartbreaking to me.

In “Sinmas” I can’t help but think about how Octavia went out of her way to protect her dad, despite moments of pain and miscommunication. That’s why I believe if Stella had ever turned on Octavia in the past, Stolas would have directed all of his attention on defending her, just as Octavia instinctively protected him from her uncle when he tried to hurt Stolas. To me, this shows the depth of their bond, even in its most fractured state.

I believe their relationship wasn’t broken by cruelty or violence but strained by miscommunication and a growing emotional gap. To me, this distinction is vital. It shows how much Octavia’s pain revolves around the love she still has for Stolas, even as she feels let down by him.

In the end, while I recognize Stolas’s actions weren’t perfect, I see Stella’s calculated cruelty as playing a far greater role in fracturing their family. Her manipulation left deep emotional scars, and her ongoing efforts to harm and control others stand in stark contrast to Stolas’s flawed but sincere attempts to connect with his daughter. For me, that contrast underscores how different their intentions truly are.

Acceptance vs “Giving Up”:

I see a significant difference between accepting someone and giving up on them, and I want to make that clear. I don’t believe Stolas is giving up on Octavia—If she ever decided to hear his side of the story, I imagine he wouldn’t hesitate to tell it. I think he’d welcome her back into his life with open arms, without question, if she asked for forgiveness. But I also understand that there’s only so much he can do. From my perspective, Stolas is respecting her decision, even if it’s painful for him because that’s what a good parent does— if he continues to force himself to explain the reasons why, the more Octavia is going to pull away further and further away from him until she wants nothing to do with him indefinitely , not just until his sentence is up and I believe he understands that

I also recognise that Stolas has already done everything he can to reach out to Octavia. I see how he’s gone through the stages of grief—bargaining included—when he begged her to hear him out, to let him explain, and she refused. I feel like his current acceptance of the situation doesn’t mean he’s “abandoning her”. Instead, I think it shows that he’s choosing to heal and adapt to the new reality forced upon him.

When I look at how he’s moving forward, I don’t see it as Stolas “choosing” Blitz over his daughter. I believe it’s about him choosing to live, to focus on the relationships and goals still within his reach. I think he’s trying to find meaning and strength after such a significant loss, which would potentially include exploring his romantic connection with Blitz. In my view, this isn’t about “replacing Octavia” but about survival.

I also notice that, whether or not Octavia is in Stolas’s life, she’ll likely continue to struggle with the idea of Blitz being part of it. From what I’ve seen, Blitz already values Octavia, even with their limited interactions. I believe he sees her as family in his own way. I think it will take time for that dynamic to evolve, but I can see how much Blitz would care for her as a potential stepdaughter if given the chance.

Millie being pregnant debate:

From what I understand, Millie’s uncertainty about whether she should keep the baby is a complex situation, and I’ve noticed that many people immediately jump to the conclusion that the baby might not be Moxxie’s, accusing her of “cheating” on her husband. Personally, I don’t think that’s the case. I believe there are other possibilities worth considering:

1. I noticed that Millie’s insistence on carrying out the hit, even pressuring Blitz to go through with it, suggests to me that she’s in desperate need of the extra money. What stood out to me was how she challenged his authority when he called off the hit—despite his personal reasons—and how he actually used his “boss” voice with her, which I’ve never seen him do before. Their relationship has always felt more buddy-buddy, so his firm stance with her really caught my attention.

I also believe Blitz’s resoluteness in that moment reflects something deeper. While he—presumably— comes from Greed (based on what we’ve seen from his childhood), I don’t think he wants to embody that particular sin. Instead, I feel he chose to focus on Pride, Lust, or even Envy as defining sins, rather than allowing Greed to guide his actions.

I believe some people will likely question Millie and Blitz’s relationship because of this situation, and while I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, I’m sure others might wonder if this means they’re no longer friends or if their dynamic will change in season 3

But when I really think about it, their closeness doesn’t change the fact that Millie overstepped a mark from an employee perspective. Blitz is the one who ultimately calls the shots, and if he decides to call off the hit, that decision is final. It’s his authority that matters in this context regardless of their personal relationship.

2. If she’s considering keeping the baby, I think she’d need to be “benched” from work, even as early as four weeks into the pregnancy. This makes me wonder if her absence from the upcoming shorts could hint at her decision—if she’s not in them, it might mean she’s told everyone, but if she is, she’s likely keeping it a secret.

3. I know Millie is the youngest of her siblings, except for Sallie May, and she comes from a big family. To me, it’s possible that she might not want kids herself, especially if she grew up in such a chaotic household.

4. I think the episode could focus on the idea that it’s okay to choose abortion and to be happy enough with your spouse, even without children—at least for the time being.

5. She might also feel unsure about becoming a parent. From what I’ve seen, Moxxie is likely apprehensive about the idea too, especially given his fears of becoming like his abusive father. Maybe they even agreed on “no kids” when they got together.

6. Another possibility I’ve considered is that Millie might have had a child before meeting Moxxie and is now finding herself unexpectedly pregnant again.

To me, this whole situation feels layered, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)

A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years. Featuring secret shagging, to friends, to the 'how is it fair for someone to say your name like that' sort of friends, to, finally, someone you could call a home.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

i’m not for sure if you’re still taking request - if not feel completely free to delete! (i also BARELY send in requests because i get so nervous to do so , so i apologize if this is all over the place 😭)

but, i’ve been CONSTANTLY thinking/writing about ex content.

what about a ex-fiancé!tangerine where their BOTH still in love with one another but he’s just too nervous to actually go through with marriage? hes just nervous because marrying reader means she married his job as well :(

and he doesn’t want her to get hurt in the end.

hii honey!! l get so nervous too omg, but don’t worry about it. love this sm argh! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

TWELVE DAYS.

tangerine x fem!reader — angst? hopeful ending

word count. 544

Broken commitments hurt. It doesn’t matter how big or small, or meaningful or pointless they are. It hurts every time.

In your scenario, a case of a failed engagement. Tangerine –your ex-fiance, your now question mark– had proposed almost a month ago. It was perfect, the location, the thought, the effort - everything about it was perfect. It was as if you had done it yourself, like you had planned and chosen it to suit all of your likes. 

But that excitement only lasted for so long before Tangerine got cold feet. He had pulled you aside, a mere twelve days into engagement to talk things over. 

If you were to be killed because you were simply married to him, or if someone were to find you through him, and make him pay for all the nasty crimes he has committed - he would never forgive himself. He knew way too many people in his line of work who have experienced that same fate - losing a wife because of the job. He may never move on if that were you. So to him, the only way to keep you safe, was to make sure your names can never be connected. 

But he could never tell you that because he knew you were far too stubborn to let that be it, to let that come between marriage, so he told you a lie. In layman's terms, he made a mistake - telling you he’s not ready to get married yet. 

Shortly after, you struggled to find a reason to stick around. You would catch yourself looking at your left hand, staring at your now empty ring finger. Sometimes, it was like you could still see it, feel the giant gem on your finger - but they were all phantom. The ring was gone, so was the engagement, and the solid foundation of your relationship.

Being around him was too much, it was far too hard to see him now knowing all of what he thinks of marriage. Did he lie at the beginning? Did he not mean it when he claimed to marry you on the beach of your fourth date? These were all questions that whirled around in your brain, all thoughts and doubts wreaking havoc on your mind.

You wanted some time apart, but you didn’t want to actually end things. And though nothing has been the same since he called off the engagement, you can’t help but want him in your life. He had practically shattered your heart and dreams, but still. You loved him, and you knew he loved you. Even if he acted like a coward.

He knew he had hurt you and he would never forgive himself for that. He wanted to marry you, but that would ultimately mean you marrying his job too. And he can’t have that. Even if he were to quit, people would still know his name, know the things he has done. 

And while you were away on a solo holiday to forget about the horrors of the last month, he had some time to pull some strings - to cash in some favours. 

He will marry you, even if that means exhausting every route to do so safely. He’s not going to let you get away so easily.

idk if I like this? too late now lol

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura is the youngest of team 7

Let’s talk about a hot topic rn in regards to Sakura… the age order of the rookies. Tbh, I don’t think it’s a big deal but I’m tired seeing misinformation going around.

It’s been the common belief for many years that Sakura is the oldest member of team 7 because of the thought that the Naruto universe follows the American school system for age. However, if we use the Japanese school system then she would be the youngest of her entire graduating class.

What is used by many to back that Sakura is older is the information derived from the databook 4 character files. In those entries it follows that Shino is the oldest and Hinata is the youngest of the rookies. Sakura is said to be 17 during the war and Naruto (as we all know) turned 17 at the end of the war. This would indicate a following of the American school system for the ages.

However, databook 1 goes against this information. In this databook, it takes place in the middle of the chunin exams. For the character files it states that all of the rookies graduated at the age of 12 and that all of them are still 12 while under examination for promotion to chunin. Why does this matter? The only way for this to be possible is if it follows the Japanese school system and let me explain why.

In chapter 11 of the Naruto manga, kakashi states that “it’s springtime” during the Land of Waves arc. This whole arc lasts about a month. Not long after they return to the village (about a week) the teams enter into the chunin exam, which, according to Hiruzen in chapter 34, starts on July 1st. In Japan, spring is from March to May and graduation takes place from mid to late March. Furthermore, the Japanese school system works where children with birthdays from April to March of the following year (ex. April, 2024 - March, 2025) are placed in the same class. This lines up perfectly with the information here as if they graduate in late March then the rookies would be 12 when becoming genin and for the exam.

Now, you might say “well why should we trust one databook over the other?” Well, if you look at databook 2 and 3 it still follows that all of the rookies graduated at the age of 12, which follows what was said in the first databook. The entire timeline of Naruto is very difficult to follow without looking to extreme detail (which I don’t have time or care for). However, the wave arc being in spring is an easy find and sets up the storyline for it to follow the Japanese school system/year.

Now, lets take a look at the novels. We know that The Last took place when Naruto and Hinata were 19; however, no information was given about Sakura's exact age at the time. On the other hand, Gaara Hiden explicitly states multiple times that Gaara is 20 years old during the novel, which is why they are pushing for his marriage in addition to the fact the Temari and Shikamaru and engaged. That later part is important. Gaara is apart of the same graduation year as the rest of the rookies and his birthday takes place in January, which makes him one of the disputed ages. There is a scene in the novel where Gaara calls Shikamaru his "elder brother" on page 122 since he is his soon to be brother-in-law. On that same page, Shikamaru also refers to Gaara as his "troublesome little brother." Now, Shikamaru is born in September, which makes his age confirmed to being in accordance to what we already believe, yet Gaara claims that he is the older one. This follows that Gaara, and thus Shino and Sakura, were born the following year like what is seen in the Japanese school system.

Notice this: Gaara Hiden is written by Ukyō Kodachi, who is one of Kishimoto's former assistants while working on Naruto. He is also the original writer of Boruto until it got taken over by Ikemoto. None of the other novels in the Hiden series are written by him or another assistant. Instead, the rest are by various Japanese authors who are working on Naruto for the first time. Why is this important? Kodachi is the most reputable source when it comes to the information we have gotten from the Hiden novels and he says that Shikamaru is older than Gaara.

Furthermore, let's look at the official timeline of the Hiden novel series, which was released by Shonen Jump. Shikamaru's novel is set before The Last, and in such novel it is said that he is 19 years old at the time. Very shortly after (same time section), The Last takes place and as discussed earlier, Naruto and Hinata are said by Kishimoto in interviews (and based off of Shikamaru's age) to be 19 as well. Then there is a few months break to where Sakura Hiden occurs. It is stated multiple times throughout the novel that it's spring; however, Sakura's age is never discussed. Nonetheless, it is said by Kakashi that Naruto and Hinata are "going to be married soon." From Naruto Mobile, it is said that they officially got married on May 8th, which would be the month that Konoha Hiden would occur.

Note: In the novel of Konoha Hiden (brief ceremony and events leading up to the wedding), there is no mention of cherry blossoms like is seen in the anime and some official art. However, it can be disputed that the wedding took place in spring, which does not affect the timeline I have put forth below.

Akatsuki Hiden, which Sasuke's portion is in the same time period as Gaara Hiden, mentions that flowers are in full bloom. This indicates that it takes place in springtime as that is when such an event occurs. Meaning, it must be the year following Sakura Hiden in order for this to be possible since Gaara Hiden and Akatsuki Hiden are set to take place an unspecified number of months after Naruto's wedding (in summer/spring).

Note: Sasuke's age is not mentioned in either Akatsuki Hiden or Sasuke Shinden, which occur at similar times.

Now, this would indicate that Gaara Hiden takes place a little over a year after The Last. This would mean that Naruto, Hinata, and Shikamaru are 20 at this time and Gaara would be newly of that age as well. This, once again, indicates that Naruto follows that Japanese system for the ages according to these timelines and still works with the ages in Boruto as those indicate that the next generation wasn't born until the rookies were about 21 years old.

Even with all of this being said, I have seen plenty of people argue that “Naruto doesn’t take place in Japan and therefore doesn’t follow their school year.” Now let me ask, why would Kishimoto, a Japanese man who has used lots of Japanese history and folklore in his series and even said much of the scenery was based on Okayama (which is in Japan), not use the Japanese school year? Why would he use the American system instead? It makes no sense. The only logical conclusion is that Naruto follows the Japanese system and that databook 4 ages were a mistake.

Kishimoto himself has never officially come out to state the age order and there are no direct references of it in the manga. The only thing absolutely certain is that Sasuke is older than Naruto, which we all know and doesn’t help at all. Now, there is one scene in chapter 18 that could give us a clue that Sakura is the youngest, but it’s all perspective imo. Kakashi calls Sakura “our young lady,” which although doesn’t confirm anything, it does indicate or imply that she is the youngest of the team. Otherwise there would be no reason for kakashi to point that out instead of just calling her “our lady.”

Anyway, what I saw rekindle this debate was the apology that Shueisha released regarding some official Naruto merchandise that came out back in 2023. In this apology they admitted to getting the ages of Sakura and Gaara during the war arc wrong and changed the info cards of the characters from 17 to 16. In addition, Sakura's character description (for the war) in one of the Naruto videogames (Borutage) also places her at the age of 16 during this arc. Many fans say that these technically aren't "official" sources to confirm her age, but aside from the databooks, which contradict themselves, these are the only other sources of her age in the war. It's also something to consider that Shueisha went out of their way to make a public apology on the matter and corrected themselves. The databooks have plenty of mistakes, so if they apologized for one mistake then they would have to do it for all. Meaning, it's best if they don't.

Furthermore, you must note that Shueisha is the publisher that Shonen Jump and obviously Naruto are under. This is the official copyright holder of the series coming out saying that Sakura is the youngest.

Also, I have seen some fans say that this illustration was released by shonen jump, but I haven’t found any proof of that being the case. Nonetheless, I will still place it below as it provides a visual for the birth order and you can use your own discretion if you think it’s official.

Anyway, that's my two cents on the matter of age order. Cheers!

[agaypanic]

Hey :) I was wondering if since it’s a leap year you would maybe write a oneshot or blurb or smth with James Maguire x reader (maybe like Quinn!reader from your series??) where she proposes on the 29th of February bc it’s a tradition that comes from Ireland?? I just think it would be so cute bc he just totally wouldn’t see it coming and I’ve never seen anyone do it in a fic before

Leap Day (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You, the girls, and James are now well into your twenties. Life is perfect, except for one little thing that’s been on your mind. After taking with your friends about it, you figure you should take matters into your own hands.

A/N: won’t put it on my series masterlist, but this could be seen as an epilogue of sorts to the fella series (even tho it’s not finished yet lol) but obvi it can be read as its own thing. Also im american so sorry for any terminology and such i get wrong. reader, james, and the girls are obvi aged up

***

If you had told your younger self that you and your friends ended up staying in Derry after finishing school, she would’ve thought you lost your mind. All she thought about was graduating and leaving home, traveling the world, and escaping her pain-in-the-ass sister Erin and somewhat crazy family.

But if she saw the life you had now, she’d probably understand. Because you had everything you truly wanted.

You had a nice little job close to your flat where you managed a bookstore. It was a quaint shop that became a frequent stop for some of the local teenagers. Erin also stopped by every now and then to boast about what she had already read.

When you weren’t working, you were with your friends. You were a bit more tame than you were in your adolescence, but that all usually went out the window when Michelle got a drink or two in her. Which happened often.

But the best part of your day was when you’d go home to see your boyfriend of many years, the love of your life, James Maguire.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him, anyway?” Michelle asked as she messily poured everyone a glass of wine. Every now and then, you and the girls got together for a night to get drunk and catch each other up on anything that happened since the last time you’d gotten together. For some reason, you and James were a bit of a hot topic tonight.

“What d’ya mean, Michelle? You know what’s going on with us.” You laughed, taking your wine glass from her.

“I mean, when are the two of you getting hitched? Has he even popped the question to ya?”

“Believe me, Michelle, you’d all be the first to know if we got engaged.” You said a bit glumly, downing your drink and waving your glass around for Michelle’s attention to fill it again.

“He still hasn’t asked you?” Clare asked with an incredulous look. From the start, she had been a big supporter of your and James’ relationship. If it was up to her, you’d probably have a few kids and a house in the countryside by now. “You’ve been going out since we were sixteen! And you just turned twenty-five a few months ago, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You responded, popping the ‘p.’ “Nine years and no ring.” You held your bare hand up to prove your point. “But I don’t mind too much. As long as we’re together, that’s really what matters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Clare cooed.

“It’s shit.” Michelle countered.

“Michelle’s right, Y/n,” Erin said, grabbing a crisp from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You’ve been waiting for James to propose since we finished at Our Lady Immaculate; admit it.”

“Have not!” You laughed at the absurdity of your sister’s sentence, but the looks everyone gave you made it die down. “Okay, maybe a little. But not seriously! It was just like a dream, you know? Like Erin thinking she’ll get published or Granda thinking Ma will actually divorce Daddy.” 

Everyone giggled, except for Erin, who was grumbling about your little jab.

“Be serious, Y/n!” Clare laughed, patting your hand. “You’ve been waiting for him to ask for a long while.”

You looked down at your glass, swirling the wine around with a sigh. 

“Maybe a bit.” You answered quietly. It hadn’t really nagged at you too much until recently. After all, you had been together for almost a decade, and everyone else around you seemed to be getting engaged or married. You loved James; truly, you did. But it felt like you were missing out a little. “But I’m fine with waiting.”

“The question is, Y/n, how long are you gonna have to wait until he actually does it?” Erin asked, leaning forward to stare at you. You shrugged, not really knowing the answer and not really wanting to respond.

“You might as well ask him, Y/n!” Your cousin Orla said with a grin. She was always an optimist. “He might just be scared you’ll say no!”

“You know, now that you say it, that’s probably why he hasn’t asked yet,” Michelle said, taking a sip from her wine glass that had been filled more graciously than anyone else’s. “After all, James is a pussy.”

“Don’t call my fella a pussy, Michelle!” You reprimanded, yet you still laughed along with everyone else.

“I can call my cousin what I want. And the fact is that he’s a pussy!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, really,” Clare said when everyone’s chuckles had died down. She gasped. “This is a leap year! You could ask him on the twenty-ninth!”

“That’s next week, Clare.” You said a bit nervously. Of course, you’d marry James in a heartbeat. But the thought of proposing, especially so soon, made you a bit sick to the stomach. Now you realize why James probably hasn’t asked you yet.

“It’s either next week or another four years, Y/n,” Michelle said with a teasing smile.

You gulped, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. As you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t really a bad idea. Sure, you had less than an ideal amount of time to plan everything out. But you could probably get something small but nice together.

“Okay… Who’s going ring shopping with me?” The girls squealed at your question, getting up to surround you in a drunken group hug.

***

It was the twenty-ninth, and you were a nervous wreck. The ring weighed heavy in your pocket as you paced around your dining room. Dinner was sitting waiting on the table, and you were playing your little speech of love over and over in your head. All you needed was James, who should be home soon. But as the minutes ticked by, you wished the clock would freeze so you could have more time to prepare for this.

“Darling, I’m home!” James called out as he opened the door, and you realized you were out of time. You skipped out to the front hall to greet your boyfriend.

“Hi, Jamie.” You cooed, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping away so he could hang up his coat. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late, needed to finish some things at the office.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, hun.” You waved your hands, both to dismiss his unneeded apology and to get rid of some nervous energy.

James gave you a quick peck before walking off to the bedroom to change, leaving you to overthink a bit more. You wanted tonight to be perfect. James deserved nothing less than that.

To pass the time, you grabbed a candle and placed it in the middle of the small table, finding a lighter to light the wick.

“It’s so nice to be home,” James murmured as he walked over to you, arms slinking around you to pull you close to his chest. He buried his face into your neck, leaving a kiss or two before taking a deep breath. “Dinner smells good.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. The two of you sat down and started putting food on your plates.

You talked about anything and everything, James leading most of the conversation, which you were grateful for. You felt that if you had to talk too much, you’d either stutter too much or end up spoiling your surprise. James held your hand most of the time, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as he talked about something amusing that happened at work.

Eventually, your plates were clear and your cups were empty. James was finishing up a story about something a few of his lads had done while they were all watching some sports game you didn’t know much about. You knew that now was your time.

“Jamie?” He hummed, perking up at the sound of his name. 

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.” You didn’t really know how else to start.

“I love you, too, N/n,” James said, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

You took a deep breath, about to give the speech that you’d been preparing in your head.

“I’ve known that you were the one for me since we were fifth years. Probably since I first saw you at the bus stop. That’s probably crazy, knowing something like that so early and so young… But it’s true.” You laughed, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “These have been the best years of my life, being with you. And it might be a bit selfish of me, but I want more of them.”

“Y/n…” James whispered, tilting his head. “What are you saying, darling?”

“We have a bit of a tradition here.” You say, wiggling your hand from James’ grasp and standing up. “Ladies’ Privilege, Bachelor’s Day, whatever you fancy calling it. Where on Leap Day, girls can propose to their fella.” You stuck your hand in your pocket, fiddling with the ring. “And seeing how it’s Leap Day now, and I have a ring and all, I guess there’s just one last thing to ask.”

James’ expression turned even more stunned when you got down on one knee, now holding the silver band up in front of him. 

“Will you marry me, Jamie?”

In the few seconds of silence after that question, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. He looked at you stunned, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind. How long would you have to kneel on the ground for him to give you an answer?

But then he smiled brightly, and all your worry slipped away.

“Of course, I’ll marry you!” James slipped out of his chair to join you on the floor and grabbed your face, giving you a long and deep kiss. You gripped his curls in your free hand, the other resting on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he let out an airy laugh. “I never thought I’d be the one being proposed to.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You giggled with him as you slipped the band onto his ring finger. “Happy Leap Day.”

“Happy Leap Day, indeed,” James said before kissing you again.

[biaonww]

"11:58 pm" reo mikage based • angst with... (hehe yall can guess for this one)

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

five years together, huh?

it was your anniversary today, with reo. you gave so much effort to get ready, setting the table, and cooking all his favorite foods. 

but no, he did not come. 

instead of him coming home, to be with you, his fiancè — there was a picture of him circulating on twitter, that he was caught holding another woman’s hand in public.

after that seeing that, you grip your phone tightly. all teary eyed, looking at the ring he bought you. i mean, what happened to loyalty? to trust? you have been here with him with all his hardships — his family, soccer, hell. even his relation with nagi. 

it just made you want to rot inside. a five year relation, just to lose this after knowing some random lady at a party?

but then again, what were you to do? he was rich, of course everyone would want him. but you never considered loving his wealth, you loved him. his whole entire being, you have loved devotedly. 

you decide to get up, packing your things in some random duffel bag. but you get interrupted by the sound of the door — it was reo. 

“it’s 11:58 pm.”

“you said you’d come home by 6.”

“love, let me explain—“

you turn to look at him, sobbing.

“explain?! explain that you were cheating on me?!”

“yes, it may be that. but you know i love you!”

“love me? really? but you chose to hold some random woman’s hand, than going home to celebrate our anniversary?!”

“you can have this stupid ring back. give it to her instead, since that’s what you want to lose our relation to.”

“don’t you dare remove that ring y/n.”

you look at him, daringly removing the engagement ring. 

“why not? i’m still here, but you aren’t explaining anything. so that does mean our relation isn’t important to yo-“

“no, it is! i may have spend one night with her, because i was stressed with work— the corporation. okay?!”

“then why won’t you tell me?! i’m here for you! you know that, and i always have been!”

“i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d leave. and it feels like words are stuck in my throat.”

“but that— that’s no excuse to cheat.”

you look at reo, a sobbing mess. 

“i know that.”

he says in a soft tone, and slowly goes towards you, and wrap his arms around your waist. he lifts one of his hands to your face, wiping your tears. he always thought you looked so beautiful, but not in this way. especially since he was the one that hurt you.

the one that caused you to cry. 

“please, forgive me. give me one more chance to prove myself to you. i’ll work on myself, and if i mess up, you can cut all ties with me.”

you nod hesitantly, crying on his shoulder while hugging him tightly. 

surprisingly, he did change. it may have took you some time to let him gain your trust again, but it was worth it. 

he expressed himself more, took you out on dates more like you deserved to, comforted and loved you in the right way. 

sure, there were still some ups and downs in your relation. 

but after standing with him in the alter alongside the priest right now, and him looking at you as if he adored you in so many ways…

you knew it wasn’t important to think about in that moment. 

because no human being is perfect. and also because he is the one you love. the man you envision your whole life with, the one you will be with til death do you two apart. 

“i do. i want him to be my husband.”

— fin.

alt ending for the angst lovers <3 three months past… but he still never goes back to home early. 

there was a recent article posted exactly on 9:26 pm, that the woman he met a few months ago had a ring on her finger. similiar to the engagement ring you and reo have. 

a coincidence? no. you knew it wasn’t. 

you were just deluding yourself, because you wanted to cling onto this sick love you and him have. 

so you decide to pack your things, and leave that same night you found out. 

because a cheater, is always an cheater, right?

reo comes home to the penthouse he and you owned. it lost all the warmth it had. the smell of your perfume wasn’t present anymore, your fluffy slippers you used wasn’t present as well. 

all your things was gone. your pictures with him were missing—and more.

and the promise ring he gave to you was placed on the dining table. it still had that same bling it had,

but it always seemed to shine more when you wore it.

… but he knew. that he was too late. because he knew you’d never come back to him. 

once a fragile gem breaks, it can never be glued back together.

— fin.

i made a special ending for this !! so i hope it's good <3 reblogs, follows and likes are very appreciated :) rin fic might come out tmr!! i think, if i don't get busy that is!!