#and definitely think his distance was her fault Again

[kyseya]

How would the farm brothers react if reader was an artist or if they liked to sing and they caught them singing to themselves while they worked?

If reader enjoyed singing (feat. the dogs)

Lucas’ ears perked up. He’d picked up on a strange sound- number of sounds, if one wanted to be specific. The were muffled and he couldn’t hear them clearly but it was definitely human speech. Had someone managed to get into the farm? Why had the dogs not warned them? Godamnit, they would have to be trained again and should be prepared to lose their treat privileges.

The young man put down the hammer he was working with. Both him and Weston had agreed it would be best to reinforce the walls of the barn.

Despite there being little to no chance they’d get out or even get very far, the brothers couldn’t risk anyone getting lose.

If it was an ordinary citizen they would be easily driven away or..taken care of- if that’s what it takes. However, should it be an officer there were chances of real trouble. Before Lucas took another step in the direction of his brother, he cast the hammer a second glance. Thoughful for a moment, he picked it up again. It was sturdy in his calloused hands. It felt safe. It felt right. You can never be too careful, after all.

He quickly went to find his brother. Weston’s back was turned to him whilst he was chopping wood. He made it seem so easy; only one swing and the log fell into two distinct pieces. A small bead of sweat rolled down Weston’s forehead. One might say ‘oh, so he is human after all. See, he sweats!’ , but Lucas knew how long he’d been out there and it wasn’t until now a sign of exhaustion showed.

“Weston!” He said alarmingly. The older brother looked up from his work, a worried expression taking over his once neutral face. “I heard talking, I thinks someone’s at the farm- near the main house.”

Weston’s whole body tensed up. “Where is (Y/n)?”

Oh no. In the past he was always used to going directly to his brother if he suspected the slightest thing. It was so far drilled into his mind you could call it an instinct. He had done it so many times he didn’t think at all of the little woman they’d made part of their family. She was so fragile compared to them, how would she be able to fare on her own.

The two of them immediately rushed to where Lucas had heard the sounds(Weston also had the notion of bringing his working tool). The closer they got, the clearer the noise got. Eventually they realised it was song. Someone was singing. If they hadn’t been so focused on finding their beloved and ridding their home of the intruder, they would have stopped to consider how wonderful it sounded.

As they got near the source, both realised the voice was actually somewhat familiar. Very familiar, in fact. They slowed down and peeked around the corner.

On the porch of the main house sat you. You had this calm aura around you and a bright smile. You were the one singing. The song was light and happy, just like you. Clearly, the farm dogs were feeling it too because they were simply melting in your hands. You gently took one’s head in your palms and massaged its face. You chuckled and gave it a kiss. The dog happily wagged its tail at the gesture and licked you on the cheek in return.

So the pups were the ones you were singing for.

The Callaghan brothers instantly relaxed. Great, there were no danger. Weston gave Lucas a slight glare, who responded with a nervous laugh.

“Sorry. I-I haven’t heard her sing before and it was actually from a distance! You can’t fault me for making a mistake.” He quickly excused himself and went back to work. He felt a chill down his back and as he walked, he could stil feel his older brothers stink eye following him.

Weston sighed when lucas was out of sight. What an idiot. It seemed like they’d gotten worked up over nothing. He looked over at you once more before leaving to continue his labour. You were so beautiful as you sat there in the afternoon sun, playing with the dogs. Now you had started on a new song and some of the pups were becoming jealous with the amount of attention the other one was getting.

Weston smiled to himself. Perhaps he’d get you to sing in front of him live one day.

[sovonight]

xan's candle event is so funny to me. you have to choose 1 specific option for the candles to even be significant to your charname, and yet the next day xan presents you with a lit candle no matter what you said, and if you're like um is that supposed to represent something, he's like yes but also no, and i will not explain, and also i'm still going to use this as a symbol to make a promise to you, even though i literally refuse to elaborate

[floweycidal]

i keep thinking about how flowey had to construct the very concept of cruelty from the ground up.

not from watching anyone else, not by osmosis, but by cobbling it together himself in the garden where he woke up. alone.

this was a child who fell asleep to his mother's stories, who knew every inflection of his father's laugh. who spent endless golden afternoons with his sibling, both of them doubled over with giggles as they filmed their silly videos, messing up on purpose just to hear each other laugh. again. and again. and again.

so warm. so safe. where the gravest offense imaginable was maybe tracking mud on the carpet.

the worst fear, disappointing people who would love you anyway.

where could he even begin?

save. say these words that once meant comfort, but twist them just so. watch their eyes dim as something inside them breaks. load.

save. make a promise—you remember those, how snug they once made you feel—then shatter it. document exactly how hope crumbles. load.

save. try another combination. another betrayal. watch what splinters differently this time. load.

the world's loneliest science experiment.

look at the cruelty he creates, it's all so personal, specific. so devastatingly asriel.

watch how often he comes back to the idea of being replaced. of being forgotten. how he taunts you with the possibility that none of your relationships matter, that everyone will move on without you. that none of your choices mean anything in the end.

your fault. your responsibility.

if only he you hadn't made anyone love him you. If only he you hadn't loved them back.

of course he'd fixate on all that. how could he not? his mother, who used to speak his name like it was sacred, those tender words she reserved for him—for THEM—are now handed out indiscriminately, like candy to anyone who asks.

all he can do is take note: see how easily love transfers? see how simple it is to fade away?

so, he sneers. taunts you with the thought that it's all dust. you're just another passing face in the crowd. nothing lasts. nothing is worth the weight of caring. but even as he pushes that narrative, as his voice drips with contempt, he is still out there. in the ruins. checking on her.

observing from a distance, like maybe if he watches long enough, his past will solidify into something he can hold again.

flowey develops his cruelty like he's trying to solve an equation. if this word plus this action equals pain, then surely there must be some formula that yields not caring anymore.

if he'd just gotten it right. if he'd just kept everyone at a distance. if he could just be flowey. save. load. the answer has to be here somewhere.

but how do you quantify the sting of hearing her say "my child" to someone else? how do you account for the absence left in the places where joy once thrived? how do you document, in clinical terms, why you keep watching over people you swear don't matter anymore?

you don't devote yourself to perfecting devastation unless you remember, with searing clarity, what it felt like to be whole.

you don't give so much of yourself mastering the art of ridiculing attachment unless you're terrified of how much you still have left to give.

unless every attempt to prove love meaningless just confirms how much meaning it still has for you.

...point IS! flowey did an interesting job creating his own idea of a bully. it's all pathological. so crudely stemmed from his own sorrows and fears. he's created his own textbook definition of meanness...but then every chapter's just him screaming in a mirror.

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[steddieas-shegoes]

From @plasticcrotches. Thank you!

➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰➿➰

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have affected him like this.

But the lights going out unexpectedly after flickering for nearly a full minute sent him into a dark spiral.

He could vaguely hear the kids talking, probably coming up with a plan to get out.

Robin’s safe, at least. She’s with her parents out of state. She’ll never have to go through this again if Steve can help it.

He should listen to the plan, figure out how he can use his body to protect the kids, get them all out of here.

“Steve?”

Steve turned to see Eddie frowning at him, coming closer.

“We’ve gotta get you out of here,” Steve stood, looking around for a weapon, any weapon.

It was too dark.

“Stevie, it’s okay.” Eddie’s hand gripped his arm, warm when everything else felt so cold. “Just sit down. Lucas and Dustin already went to check.”

“Alone?!” Steve tried to pull away, but Eddie’s grip tightened.

“They’re alright. We’re safe.”

“No we aren’t! What if something’s out there?” Steve finally pulled his arm loose, looking back at Eddie. His eyes were adjusting in the dark and he could see the concern on his face.

“Steve, where do you think you are?” Eddie asked, stepping in closer, hand gently cupping his cheek.

Steve looked around. It was difficult to see much, but he could see the shapes of the kids sprawled across a couch. His couch. In his living room.

His body relaxed slightly as he recognized more of his house around him. Not the Upside Down version, the real one.

“Sorry,” he said as Eddie leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching Steve’s.

“Why are you sorry?”

Eddie’s breath was warm against his face, sending a shiver down Steve’s back.

“Feel stupid. Thought we were back there for a minute,” Steve whispered. He didn’t want the kids overhearing. They had enough to worry about.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“No,” Steve could only think of one other time and Robin had been there to bring him back. “I’m okay. I should go check on Lucas and Dustin. They’ll probably break something.”

“Wait,” Eddie’s other hand gripped Steve’s hip. “We’re okay, Stevie. I’m safe because you got me safe. You protected me then and I know you would if you had to again. You know that, right?”

Steve felt his heart stop momentarily in his chest. Eddie usually kept a distance between them, maybe scared to get close to Steve after everything. Steve had sat by his side in the hospital every day until he woke up and Wayne could be brought in to see him.

But since then, they’d become friends. Just…they didn’t get physically close. Steve didn’t know why.

He wanted to touch Eddie, wanted to lean his head on his shoulder during movies or rub his back when he decided to stand in the kitchen and watch the kids take over Hellfire.

He wanted to play with his hair and kiss him.

He wanted.

But he couldn’t.

“I wish I could’ve protected you better,” Steve admitted, voice breaking. “I should’ve been with you.”

“You can’t be in two places at once. I did a stupid, unpredictable thing. It’s not your fault.”

“But I could’ve stopped you,” Steve argued.

He could see the kids leaving the room out of the corner of his eye, probably going to check on what Dustin and Lucas were doing.

“I wouldn’t have let you,” Eddie argued back. “I can be just as stubborn as you.”

Eddie was still touching his hip and his face.

His eyes were wide as he searched Steve’s.

“It’s over, right?” Steve asked.

“It’s over,” Eddie reassured.

“We’re safe.”

“We are safe.”

Steve should do it, he should kiss him. They’re alone and Eddie’s giving signals that he’s never given before. Or maybe he has and Steve just didn’t realize it.

Actually, he definitely has.

Steve leaned in the few inches he needed to brush his lips against Eddie’s.

He expected Eddie to pull away quickly, to stop touching him.

Instead, he let his hand drift to the back of Steve’s head and pull him in closer, nipping at his bottom lip playfully before kissing him harder.

Steve let out an embarrassing noise as he reached up to grip Eddie’s hips, stabilizing himself as Eddie groaned into his mouth.

“It’s not dark enough for us to not see you, ya know,” Mike snarked from the doorway.

Steve pulled away, ready to come up with an excuse, but Eddie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into his side.

“Shut up, Mike. You can handle two people kissing.”

“Not when it’s you two.”

“Oh, are you homophobic?” Eddie smirked, already knowing that wasn’t the problem.

“No! You know I’m not!” Mike was flustered now, clearly looking for a reason to leave. “Just- just go somewhere else!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “This is my house, dude.”

The lights came back on and Steve fully relaxed against Eddie.

Eddie must’ve noticed, kissing the top of his head before all the kids rushed back into the room.

No one else seemed to notice the position they were in, but that was fine.

Steve didn’t wanna hide, and it seemed like Eddie didn’t either. If the kids did notice, they’d be fine.

As long as Eddie was there, he’d be fine.

[meracyn]

ꜱᴏᴜʀ, ᴋᴡᴏɴ ᴊᴀᴇ-ꜱᴜɴɢ

summary. kwon's words still ring in your ears, causing you distractions during your matches. you end up forgetting, though, when he asks you a question you certainly didn't expect.

notes. part 2 is here! click this to go back to pt. 1, click here for pt. 3

warnings. none?

The next round of the tournament arrived, every new challenge bringing the semifinals closer. Looking over at the board with all the points tracked for each dojo, guilt formed in your chest at the sight of Miyagi-Do being placed as one of the lowest. Your team was struggling, barely making it through the competition. You had to focus– for everyone's sake, but with Kwon around, you knew he wouldn't make it easy for you.

As the announcer called out your dojo being against Spain's team, your Sensei went over to you, a stern look on his face– it was Johnny. "Look, you know we're close to losing this thing," You gave a nod, though hearing those words felt like a slap. Noticing your anxious expression, he continued, "I want you to show me that you can win. Think you can do that?"

Mustering all the courage you had, you nodded again. "Yes, Sensei."

"Good. You're up first, be ready."

You stepped onto the ring, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Across from you stood Maria Alvarez, the female captain of Spain's team. Getting into position, you took a deep breath, determined to earn a win. At the signal, you immediately went in, closing the distance between you both, doing a quick jab on her stomach, followed by an uppercut.

Maria staggered back, but quickly recovered, jaw clenched as she adjusted her stance before going towards you again. You swiftly moved around, blocking and attacking with precision at any chance. Just as you were going to strike a punch, your gaze looked over at the crowd– and amongst everyone, your eyes met with Kwon's, who was already looking at you with an unwavering gaze.

Before you had the chance to refocus, Maria took your momentary distraction as an advantage, throwing a right hook to your side. Being off balance, you struggled to block and dodge. As the captain landed a spinning back kick to your midsection, you stumbled, losing balance as your back hit onto the mat, making the bell ring—and signaling her victory.

── ⋆ ──

You slammed your fist against the wall, shaking in anger as you ignored the stinging feeling. Your team ended up losing again, resulting in now being on the verge of elimination. First, it was Robby who wasn't focused. Now it was you, too? You blamed yourself for getting distracted easily.

Hearing the door click, you turned around to see Kwon standing there, a slight smirk on his face. He walked towards you, hands in his jackets’ pockets. "Seems like your dojo didn't do well today." He remarked.

"What do you want, Kwon? You got what you wanted already." You scoffed, not letting yourself be intimidated by his antics. Seeing him was the last thing you wanted right now.

"Oh yeah? What did I get, hm?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You know what I'm talking about."

"Ah," Kwon chuckled, realizing that you were referring to the distraction he caused you during your match. He leaned in, his face mere inches away from yours. "But you know— that was your fault, love. Not mine."

"Is it really?" There was a brief moment of silence, just as you turned to leave, he spoke again, this time his voice was softer. "Do you think it's worth staying in Miyagi-Do?" His question caught you off guard, making you go quiet. Without waiting for a response, he left the room.

You definitely didn't expect to be asked that from him. Though it made you end up questioning your choices that night.

[shugarbunni]

pt.1 of kitty!reader x professor!james... enjoy!

"professor?" your voice breaks through the chatter of the group of professors (Mr Potter, Mr Lupin, Mr Black, Mr Pettigrew and, every students favourite, Mrs Evans.) as you crack the classroom door open. its lunch break, really you should be out in the campus cafeteria with your friends, but you just had to ask him (him being your secret sex god boyfriend, professor potter) about the test results, right?

their heads snap up, James huffing softly in exasperation when he sees you. none of the other professors know, to your knowledge. James said they'd have his bloody head if they knew he'd started sleeping with a student.

"uhm, sorry for intruding" you say in that faux sickly sweet voice of yours "i just had a few questions about my grade?"

Sirius gives James a smirk, only to be kicked under the table by James. James swivels his chair to fully face you, giving you a soft yet stern look.

"we can discuss at the end of the day, kit." he says, the other professors awkwardly looking away.

"i'm not gunna be on campus, I'm going out." you frown, brows furrowing in confusion. he never turns you down. like, ever.

"right." he huffs, scratching the back of his neck, his bicep pushing against the fabric of his shirt. jesus fuck, he's hot. "then we can go over them tomorrow, kit. alright?" he says, and its obvious he's trying to be strict. why the hell is he being strict?

"oh." you almost pout, shoulders slumping in disappointment "right, okay. yeah, tomorrow." you fluster, scurrying out of the classroom before anything else can be said.

well, great. you'd went in expecting a fuck and a five minute nap on his lap, only to be, what? turned down? asshole. he's a total asshole!

"you're doing the right thing, mate." Remus huffs as you leave the classroom, the energy tense "she's barely 20, James. trust me, you're saving the both of you a lot of trouble."

"i know." he mumbles, gazing off into the distance with a crease between his brows. lily shoves him, a stern look on her face "i know, okay?" he reiterates, trying to be more convincing "i know its better if i cut it off i just... nevermind." he says as he slumps in his chair, pushing his lunch away.

"its your fault for telling us." lily says, shrugging as she swallows her food "you must've known wed make you shut it down, James."

"i did- alright, i did know. i just didn't think id be this fucking bothered." he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"yeah, well" Sirius grins, nudging him "were gunna go out tonight. like old times, hm? get y'mind off it?"

"..fine. but only us 5. I'm not going if you two bring your happy relationships to shove in my face. already have to deal with moony n pads." he complains, pointing at lily and peter.

"Emma hates going out, you know that" peter says through a mouthful of pasta. Emma, his girlfriend (who he's been with for four years, mind you. he's got to pop the question sometime, surely). she's a sweet girl - one of those vegan, farmers market, crochet all your blankets and tea pot covers type of people. her and Pete really suit, honestly.

"and Mary's working tonight." lily says with a proud smile. Mary, lily's girlfriend since they were all at high school. again, very sweet person. shes a nurse now, which is very on brand for her. always did love helping people.

"brilliant!" Sirius beams, toying with remus' hand, who gives him a soft smile and a nod.

well, tonight could either go wonderfully or horribly. James could definitely wait to find out which it's gunna be.

okay i don't know how to feel about this!! ill do an intro to my kitty!reader soon, let me know if you guys r into this or not<3

[themultifanshipper]

You could cut the tension with a knife. A double DNF was not good for the team or for you and Seb, both of you being so close to a championship win you could almost taste it.

Warnings: Violence, rancid vibes, under negotiated everything, very bad etiquette, rough sex, slapping, choking, all the good shit

Requested by 🐇

The crash was most definitely his fault. He tried to squeeze you into the wall, but miscalculated terribly, leading to both of you hitting the wall and losing a potential 43 points for the team.

To say you were pissed was an understatement. It was very obviously his fault, and everyone knew that, which made it all the more infuriating how cocky and dismissive Seb was about it.

On the walk back to the pits, he tried to make it out that you were to blame, trying to gaslight you into apologizing, and you completely lost it, launching yourself at him. You were halfway through strangling the life out of him before the marshals finally came and separated you.

Afterwards it was all side-eyes and glares in the media pen, doing interviews with at least 30 feet between you at all times. God knows what kind of bullshit he was spewing to the cameras as the interviewers swooned over his stupid handsome face as he flirted shamelessly to avoid having to answer any real questions.

When asked about what he thinks of you as a person, he answered with “Well it’s no secret that we don’t work well together, she’s not exactly a team player. Obviously she’s a beautiful woman everything, but she doesn’t belong here with the best of the best. She should follow her dad and stick to endurance.” He smirked and thanked the interviewer before moving on to the next one.

It wasn’t until you were back in your hotel room that you saw the interview, and when you did, you threw your phone across the room in anger. How dare he? You were p2 in the championship for the second year running. You dad had never even made it to formula 1. The fact that Seb would compare you to him even though he knew you wanted to distance yourself from your father’s image as much as possible sent you into a rage.

And before you knew it you found yourself banging on Seb’s hotel room door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shouted, as soon as he opened the door. He’d obviously come out of the shower, his wet hair dripping down his torso as you quickly trailed your eyes up and down his body. He didn’t even respond, just grinning lopsidedly at you.

“How dare you compare me to my father?” you shoved him backwards into the room and slammed the door behind you. The fucker didn’t waver, still smirking at you as if you were the funniest thing in the world right now. You wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face.

“I’m p2 in the fucking championship you asshole!” you went to slap him but he grabbed your arm and used your momentum to slam you against the wall, pinning your hands above your head.

So you tried to knee him in the crotch, but he slotted one of his legs between yours, gluing himself to your front. You squirmed but it was no use, he had you trapped.

“What are you going to do now, hmm?” he purred smugly.

Headbutt him is what you wanted to do, but before you could move he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly.

You didn’t flinch though, if this is how he wanted to play it, you weren’t going down without a fight. So you bit his lip. Like, full on chomped down on it. He yelped and shifted backwards, wide eyes now full of anger and contempt. At least you’d finally managed to wipe that sexy infuriating smirk off his face.

He slapped you, hard, but instead of it hurting, it just served to fuel the fire burning inside you. You gasped and stared at him in disbelief, his pupils were dilated so the blue was barely visible, and his lip was bleeding slightly. What a sight.

“Do that again” He didn’t even hesitate as his hand struck your cheek a second time. Your hips involuntarily bucked up into his, and he groaned as they made contact with his rapidly hardening cock.

He rolled his hips and growled at the pathetic whimper you let out. He kissed you again and released your hands in favour of grabbing your ass and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing you into the wall harder. You panted into the kiss, hands roaming and grabbing anything you could as he grinded against you roughly.

After a few minutes of biting and scratching and riling each other up even more, he couldn’t take it anymore so he put you down, immediately working at your pants to get them off as fast as he could.

Once you were both naked, he sat you on the nearest surface, which happened to be a desk, pushed you down roughly with a hand around your neck, propped your feet up on the edge and rubbed his cock along your folds, making you writhe in anticipation.

“You think you can take me just like this?” He asked, venom dripping from every word.

You nodded quickly but that didn’t satisfy him. He slapped your most sensitive area and you gasped, clit throbbing at the rough treatment.

“Use your words, slut”

“Yes! I can take it Seb just fuck me!”

He slapped your pussy again and you cried out. It was painful in the most delicious way and your concentration started wavering as you got lost in the feeling.

“That’s not very polite. Beg for it, baby.”

You did. You begged so much, so fast. You’ll deny till the day you die but any defiance you had disappeared embarrassingly quickly. Seb was so endeared that he wasted no time slipping just the tip in, but that was already a stretch.

Inch by inch, he pulled out and slid back in, doing his best not to hurt you, the absence of preparation suddenly in the forefront of his mind.

You on the other hand were loving every second of it. His cock stretched your walls out deliciously as you took more and more of him, and once he was buried inside you to the hilt, you moaned pathetically, feeling so incredibly full.

“Move, please Seb!” you whined, so he pulled out and slammed back in roughly, and the noise you let out, you would also deny making, but it drove Seb wild, so he tightened his grip around your neck and slammed into you repeatedly, hitting your g-spot with impressive precision.

You mind felt floaty and your body started going limp with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you, and Seb noticed so he let go of your throat and shoved two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck” he ordered, and you did, biting his knuckles gently just to piss him off.

Once his fingers were nice and wet, he trailed them down your body to your sensitive clit and started rubbing tight circles as he continued to pound into you, trying to get you to the edge, him being embarrassingly close already.

It took you no time at all and you came with a shout, body arching off the desk as he chased his own high. He came inside you with a loud moan and slumped over your body, both exhausted after being so wired up all day.

He pulled out and got a damp cloth from the bathroom to clean you up with, before helping you get dressed, in total silence. You were both in shock at what you’d just done. You were teammates, bitter rivals, and now you had his cum dripping down your leg.

You stood at the door, unsure of what to say, when Seb pulled you into a brief hug.

“I didn’t mean it you know. The stuff I said in the interview��� You looked at him with frown, he smiled. “I was just trying to piss you off enough for you to do something about it”

“You bastard” You giggled, opening the door to leave.

You were halfway down the corridor when he added “By the way, the crash was your fault! You should never try to pass the reigning champion when he’s leading a race!”

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look back.

God, you hated him.

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

So if a Mel and Caitlyn pair up defeats a dictator and wins a war (at least the first part), a Vi and Jayce team up only ever kills kids or fucks up a mission, and l then what does a Jinx and Viktor pair do? What do the other options make?

Here are my ideas, ranking from best outcome to worst or what actually gets done.

Genuinely think a Viktor Mel pair (depending on if they both have some sort of magic) save the world. Both incredibly intelligent. Both caring but can’t be manipulated by emotions easily (influenced is a different story but damn when you’ve got a terminal illness or a dictator mom it’s hard being normal). However I think the arcane writers knew the team up would be too powerful. Also incredibly sexy. If they just had tea together once I think there would be no arcane story to tell.

Cait and Viktor. Not a lot getting done but if we’re thinking season 1 then it’s gonna be so nice and calm. They’re having tea. They’re planning our improvements for Zaun. A harp sings in the distance. They talk about Jayce. Caitlyn asks questions and listens to the answers and vice versa. World peace maybe not achieved but close.

Technically Jayce helped Cait free Vi and helped cover it up, as well as help her when Caitlyn tried explaining what was going on with Silco. Very even results. Nothing major changing here but typical for people who literally just bring out nothing in each other besides…friendship? Siblings? Idk.

Vi and Viktor would probably get along in the sense of they knew an older Zaun. (At least in comparison to Jinx.) Vi can be pretty gentle and Viktor definitely cares. Battle wise he ain’t gonna do much (the only time he really fought was when it wasn’t a good thing for anyone) but he’s bring the smarts to Vi’s streets. They’re gonna win the battle but it will be tough. Some lives may be lost but it ain’t theirs.

Mel and Vi….Vi does not like politicians. Vi does not like people from Piltover beyond Caitlyn (and maybe Jayce?) They argue the whole time. Nothing bad happens but nothing gets done. It’s mostly Vi’s fault but Mel can’t let it go. It’s been three days and they haven’t left the council room. It ends with the mutual agreement to never meet again.

Technically a Cait/Jinx pair saved Vi (after the commune) and also the conversation they had in the jail was actually civil. Don’t think a whole lot is getting done but a good battle buddies I think. There’s gonna be tension though. Lots of arguing and glares. Caitlyn’s hair is now orange and Jinx lost another finger. Lots more damage than necessary.

Mel and Jinx. Someone is dying. It might not be one of them but it’s definitely someone who shouldn’t be dead. Mel’s level-headedness barely works on Vi and it definitely won’t work on Jinx. She’s never had a younger sister. Jinx knows what buttons to push. The building is on fire.

Jayce and Jinx. Mostly everyone is dead except for Vi and Viktor somehow, or the exact reverse. They haven’t stopped arguing since they met. They just keep slapping each other like cats. Jayce keeps trying to hit her with the hammer but she’s elusive and it’s like a game of wack-a-mole. He kills a kid each time instead. Jinx won’t stop making fun of him. Someone lost a limb at some point.

Jinx and Viktor. Everyone is dead. I would say they are too but no, they’re stuck at the end of the universe with each other. It’s equally both their faults. Viktor deadnames her every time she insults him. She never stops and neither does he. They each have a shrine to their respective loved one and it’s the only places they don’t bother each other. She bleached half his hair. He poured out her nail polish. They fight till the end of time itself. Sometimes they have movie nights where their respective hallucinations (Silco, Sky) join.

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter five — tricky plans & schemes (🎂)

"I'm not going to make it out of here alive if I see him."

The simple, yet harrowing sentence repeated constantly in your mind. It held you like an anchor while you were preparing the multiple long tables with sweets you baked last night purely with anxiety running through your body. It was a surprise that you haven't succumbed to a heart attack yet.

It was wide in the air with your freshly baked pastries, a soft mix of vanilla, cinnamon, and chocolate wafting through the air conditioned room. Each of the tables you filled was adorned with lacey and delicate cloths, each sweet arranged with your care. Rows of colorful tiny cakes and intricately designed cookies.

Your hands trembled placing the final touches on the tiny treats, exhaling once it was finally all done. You stepped back to admire your work, but you didn't know what it was about it that made you feel slightly bitter.

Behind your weaker smile, your eyes betrayed you with how much resentment was behind your eyes. Which turned into a small sadness for the fact; you didn't want to do this. It was a blessing that Ei could see how uncomfortable you were being in her wedding as an 'addition to the family', because you definitely weren't par to Kunikuzushi by any means.

Nor did you deserve to be beside anyone other than Kazuha. And even at the thought that something harrowing happened to him, you cracked under pressure to keep your mind from overthinking. That would mean that you'd forget about him entirely. You couldn't be happier about anything, extreme emotions would betray your memories of him.

Or...lack thereof?

Your jaw clenched, tears brimming your eyes which you quickly wiped away. There was nothing behind your eyes except the worry that all of this baking you were doing was for nothing. You didn't feel particularly excited to bake anymore, nor show anyone. It was like the spark that Kazuha gave you was missing, along with him.

A small sound broke through your thoughts, your eyes half-lidded as you slowly turned to see the only person you wish you didn't, following by a few other male voices fading and their tricky plans and schemes. His piercing eyes met yours, and for a moment, his unreadable expression almost made it seem like he was taking a moment to think before he speaks.

But your own expectations failed you once he scoffed, expression hardening. "Fucking hell, you're a disaster." He couldn't help but laugh, but purely from the misery he felt as he turned his back towards you to walk out.

But as soon as he was about to head out again, another visitor came through the door. This time in a stunning white dress, and in a frazzled state according to her expression. It was Yae Miko herself, presence a relief from the harrowing tension.

"Wow. Reunion, or what?" Yae asked, tilting her head, before giving a wave to you. "Hi, darling~"

You hesitantly waved back. "Hi! H..ow are you?"

The pink haired woman examined the room before she said anything else, and even the most braindead person in the world could see that there was nothing here except aversion. You awkwardly shimmied behind the table filled with sweets to keep your distance.

As Kuni was about to reply, Yae held her hand up. "Nope. Don't want to know. This is my day, I'll be back in business in four weeks."

His eyes dulled, patience clearly wearing thin. "You shouldn't even be here."

"Yeah, I shouldn't, right?" Yae crossed her arms over her chest. "But it'd be too much to ask for one peaceful day. Listen," She leaned in, closing the door behind her. "The cake is still at the shop. Our extremely useless deliverer quit before the wedding."

Your eyes perked up. "What?" You blurted out.

"It's my fault for relying on people outside of my own family to pick up a cake. Mind you, the cake isn't even ten minutes away." Yae's eyes rolled. "Typical for this country, full of dimwits. Can you two go get it?"

"Don't really feel like hearing your little political tirades right now. I'll get it, but they're for fucking sure not coming with me." Kuni pointed towards you, which made you flinch. "I'd rather die."

Yae could only sigh dramatically at his incessant whining. "You are both adults now; you can handle a simple task without killing someone."

"Easy for you to say on your wedding day, I don't ever plan on being pleasant to a rat," He snarled. "Fine. But don't expect it to be brought back in one piece with them in the car."

"Sorry. I'll... try my best." You said in a low tone, avoiding eye contact with either of the very confident figure.

Yae looked in between you and Kuni again before lifting her lips up to give a small look of bewilderment. "I guess it's too much to ask for some chivalry from you, Kuzu," She sighed before handing you the details. "Here's the address and a copy of the order. Just tell them I sent you, I'll be getting everything ready still."

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @justpeachyteastea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha

[littlemisssatanist]

Hitlist

the jackal x fem reader

~ i am a whore for eddie redmayne so you should thank his face for being so gorgeous

~ this is 2k words of poorly written and unedited smut. if you see typos,,, no you didnt.

~ i need his face in my chest thats like the only reason i wrote this

~ ty for everyones lovely comments on the last part!

~ look at my art of my beautiful husband who is too old for me

~ BEFORE I FORGET. i have a longfic idea for this sorta universe,,, a mr and mrs smith type of situation crossover w sherlock bbc as a case fic. what do we think

part one | part two

You lead him back to a hotel room. Your hotel room, though not for much longer. The people who had hired you paid for everything, and once they heard you had betrayed them, they would eventually be able to track you down. The faster you left, the better.

The Jackal kept you in his sight the entire time, staring into the back of your head as if he was trying to cut a hole right through it.

It’s not like I would have hurt him anyways, you thought mulishly, poking your tongue into your cheek, troubled. Your mind had already been made up before you had even stepped into the room.

You could never hurt him.

As you walked into the room, he stalked past you and started examining everything, keeping an eye on you all the same.

“It’s clean,” you offered, but he only shot you a side glance, not bothering to acknowledge you had said anything. You worked hard to keep yourself from letting the hurt show on your face.

Instead, you ask: “Married?” 

Trying to lighten the mood, you couldn’t help but notice the ring on his finger. By the way his face tightened, you knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“Divorced,” he muttered. “You?” he added, as an afterthought.

“No,” you shook your head. You had thought about it once, a long time ago, but it never worked out. You simply could not stop thinking about him.

The Jackal sat down next to you on the bed, done with his search. He was close, closer than you would imagine comfortable. This close, you could see every freckle and mark on his face.

You are definitely not complaining.

“Her loss,” you whispered. At his questioning glance, you clarified: “Your wife.”

The tips of his fingers brushed over yours and you shivered.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No, it was my fault. She deserved better than me.”

His eyes flickered shut as he leaned in closer. You could feel his breath on your face.

“Probably,” you agreed, tilting your head away to admire the earlier hickey you had left. He blinked a couple of times, confused by the sudden distance you had put between them. Then you pressed your hand into the purple mark, and he hissed and pulled away. 

He went to lean against the headboard and you followed him, climbing into his lap. His hands immediately found your waist even as he tried to push you away.

Instead, you only pressed his hips against his, hands caging him in on either side of the headboard.

“Come on, J,” you crooned. “Don’t you miss this?”

“You tried to kill me!” He snapped. “Forgive me if I’m not so forthcoming.”

You frowned. “You were literally all up in my business not even five seconds ago. Besides, if I wanted you dead, then I wouldn’t have announced my presence,” you cupped his cheek as gently as possible. You couldn’t stop looking at his freckles. “I was never going to kill you.”

He paused, eyes threatening to flutter shut at your touch. Then he pushed you away again, seemingly remembering why he was mad at you. “Then why did you take the job in the first place?”

You resisted, pressing your forehead against his. “I was trying to protect you,” you said mockingly slowly, as if trying to make him understand something very simple. His cheeks reddened with humiliation and anger. “I knew that taking the job would give you some time. And the only reason I threatened you was because I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.”

The end of your words turned into a soft whine, and you nosed his face into his. Your thumb pressed past his lips and into his mouth, gagging him. His tongue immediately met your thumb, swirling around it on instinct. You moaned, kissing the edges of his mouth.

“Get off,” he managed to mumble through his make-shift gag, saliva dripping past his chin.

“Alexander,” you murmured. “Look at me.”

His name, his real name, snapped him out of the lustful haze your actions had put him into. It had been so long, how had you even remembered that? He should have never told you.

He pushed you away and you finally relented, letting him throw you back onto the mattress and climb on top of you.

“Fuck you,” he said, before swooping down and capturing your lips with his.

The kiss was hot and searing, and you could feel his large hands feeling up your body.

“That’s the idea, J,” you mumbled into his mouth, running your own hands up his back and tugging on his shirt. You needed him naked. Now.

He pulled away, biting your bottom lip as he went, tugging his shirt above his head. You watched from beneath him, admiring the ways his abs flexed before he dropped his hands and caged you in between them.

“You look nice,” you breathed, your hands creeping up his chest. “Ah… I remember this. But the background was different. Ah-!”

J buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down harshly onto the soft skin there. At the same time, his hand slipped down your pants and underneath your panties, finding the growing wetness between the apex of your thighs.

“It… it was something like,” you sighed as he slipped two fingers inside, “a desert scene? R-remember that, J? Fuck!”

He curled the fingers inside you, his free hand making a large bruise the way it pressed into your waist so tightly. He kissed up your neck and jaw and eventually found your mouth, muffling the words that couldn’t help but spill out.

He remembered it too. The Al-Qaeda operation, the wedding party, the car bomb. You had been a junior sniper working with his team, and he could not help but notice the way your quiet gaze kept falling on him. You met him in his room that night, slipping past the door silently. You weren’t so quiet then, and you weren’t so quiet now.

When he killed the rest of his team, he let you live.

Maybe it was a mistake to do that. But the way the moans kept falling from your mouth, he wasn’t in any position to regret his decision. His thumb pushed at your clit, circling it faster as your voice grew to a higher pitch, as moans and gasps filled the air quicker. He swallowed your sounds as they came out, not letting you get in any air.

The hand holding your waist came to rest at your neck. It was so thin, so easy to just wrap his fingers around it and choke the life out of you. He began to apply pressure, just the tiniest bit, but the way your breath hitched, he knew that you knew the power he had right now.

Your chest heaved up and down against his. Dimly he realized that he had neglected to take off your blouse and bra.

He pulled away slightly, continuing his circular movements on your clit. A thin strand of saliva connected your mouths, and he broke it with a soft flick of his tongue. The hand on your neck tightened, and you released a strangled groan. 

You were vulnerable. Completely at his mercy.

But you found that you didn’t mind. You wanted it. A relationship with him, one in which you could trust that he wouldn’t hurt you, the same way you could never bring yourself to hurt him. 

The pressure on your neck furthered, and your hands instinctively went to his wrist, gripping it tightly. He stared into your eyes. You could feel the wave of pleasure in your stomach growing, legs twitching subconsciously, tightening around the hand in between your thighs.

“P-please…” you managed to choke out, arching your back and rolling your eyes as the pleasure passed the precipice and washed over, stringing your body taut before allowing it to collapse into what felt like a melting puddle.

His hand left your neck, brushing over the dark bruise he had left behind. Something in him felt vindicated, glad to have caused you pain. He kissed the deepest part of the bruise, smiling against your skin as you inhaled sharply at the touch. 

You bring your hands to brush through his hair, gripping it tightly to pull him away from your neck, half heartedly throwing him away. He rolled off, groaning, painfully hard.

“Give me a moment,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath. Wow. “Fuck.”

“Good?” He asked.

You nodded, before realizing he probably couldn’t see it. You let your hand find his instead, squeezing it. He sighed.

“I need to go take a cold shower,” He said, moving to get up.

By some miraculous show of strength, you managed to sit up before him and pressed your hand against his abdomen, shoving him back down.

“No. We’re not done yet.”

He stared at you as you swung your leg over his lap, hovering above him. His face was still flushed red, making his dark freckles stand out against his skin. His eyes flicked from between your face to where his erection made a tent in his pants.

“Ok,” he muttered. “Take off your shirt.”

You obeyed immediately, fingers thumbing to undo the buttons on your blouse. The Jackal watched you hungrily, hands coming back to hold onto your waist. They were burning hot against your now bare skin, moving up your spine to unclip your bra and let your breasts free.

He cupped them; the heat making you gasp as you worked to take off your pants. You managed to get them to hang at your knees, finally sitting down on his lap and pressing against his clothed cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips pressing upwards.

You circled your hips, mouth falling open at the stimulation to your clit. It was still overly sensitive from his fingers earlier, and the roughness of his jeans did nothing to help soothe it.

“I need your cock in me,” you moaned. “Please.”

The Jackal let out a strangled sound at your words, managing to sit up and push down his pants. His cock sprang free, nudging against your soaking wet panties. You grinded against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his back muscles.

He pulled at the band of your panties, allowing them to snap back against your skin. One of your hands finds itself back in his hair, pushing his face into your chest. You can feel him grinning, a low laugh rumbling from his throat.

Finally, finally, he lined up his cock with your pussy and pushed inside. Your mouth fell open in a small ‘o’ at the feeling of complete fullness. He was burning you up from the inside.

He pressed kisses to your bare skin, face still buried in your chest as he kept his hips moving against yours. Pleasure began to build up in you once more, and you knew by the soft grunts and moans that fell out of the Jackal's mouth, he was close too. 

“Inside,” you whimpered, clutching onto him so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if he wouldn't ever be able to separate from you. “P-please.”

You raised your hips, his cock slipping out completely, before slamming back down. Your lips met, more clashing teeth than a kiss. His tongue consumed the inside of your mouth, stealing away your breath as you came once more.

Still riding the high, you had enough sense to realize he had also come, just seconds after you, cum filling you and dripping out slightly. 

You swayed slightly, and the both of you fell to the side, his cock still inside you.

Your chest fell up and down. The Jackal shifted closer towards you, placing his head back in the valley of your breasts. Your hand immediately comes to his hair to keep them there.

The two of you lay like that for a while, before you groaned.

“We need to go,” you muttered.

The Jackal mumbled something you couldn't hear. You begin to get up, but he doesn't move, the heavy weight forcing you to flop back down. 

“J,” you patted his back.

“... give me five minutes.”

You sighed. “Yeah, ok.”

part one | part two

tags: (for those who commented they wanted a second part (if you didnt want to be tagged,,, uh lmk) @affective-disorder @simp-ly-writes @freya260

[gatitties]

Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨

I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )

─Shanks x wife!reader

─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either

─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU

Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳

You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.

The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.

With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.

Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.

You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.

The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.

The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.

"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."

You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.

Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.

You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.

Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.

Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.

Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.

[adumbratrapedme]

Toxic!bf!Tsukishima headcanons - gaslighting

Kei Tsukishima, with his sarcastic and seemingly indifferent personality, might appear harmless. However, beneath that facade, he could exert subtle and manipulative control over his partner through gaslighting.

╭⋅ Denies Reality: Tsukishima is a master at minimizing your feelings and experiences. If you express your concerns or feel hurt, he'll definitely tell you that you're being too sensitive or that you're overreacting. ╭⋅ Reverses Roles: He'll somehow make you feel guilty for his actions, blaming you for his bad behavior or for the problems in the relationship and even for the problems in his life, oh, they lost a match? your fault. Your yelling distracted him. ╭⋅ Sows Seeds of Doubt: He'll constantly question your judgment and abilities, making you doubt yourself and your perception of reality. ╭⋅ Makes You Feel Crazy and dumb: He'll make you believe that you're imagining things or that you're being too dramatic, and will even make you doubt ur intelligence, did u got a low score at an exam you studied a weak for? yeah, you might need to drop that class, seems like is too much for your little dumb brain. ╭⋅ Uses Sarcasm as a Weapon: His sarcastic and condescending comments can be very hurtful and undermine your self-esteem. ╭⋅ Makes You Feel Grateful for Scraps: He'll make you feel lucky for any show of affection or attention, no matter how small, just keep you hooked. He’ll probably make you have a very low self-esteem and make you believe no one else will love you or that you wont be enough for any other person.

The air in kei’s bedroom hung heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Y/N sat on the edge of the couch, picking at a loose thread on her jeans, while Tsukishima scrolled through his phone, seemingly indifferent to the atmosphere.

"Kei," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I don't feel so comfortable when you to spend so much time with Yamaguchi."

Tsukishima scoffed, his gaze finally leaving his phone. "And why is that, Y/N? Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? No, of course not. It's just… you spend all your free time with him. We hardly ever do anything together anymore… no dates, no talks, no calls, nothin… i barely even saw you this week."

"Oh, please," Tsukishima scoffed again, "Don't be so dramatic. Yamaguchi is my best friend. Besides, you're always busy with your projects at the “art club”." He used air quotes mockingly.

Y/N bristled. "My art and club is important to me, Kei. Just like volleyball is important to you."

"Of course it is," he said dismissively. "But you spend hours locked in your room making “art”, if you can even call it like that, barely talking to me."

"Because you're always with Yamaguchi!" she retorted, her voice rising, visibly hurt at his words, “if you can even call it like that”? what did that mean?

Tsukishima sighed dramatically. "See? This is what I'm talking about. You're always making a big deal out of nothing. You're so sensitive."

Y/N felt a wave of dizziness. Was she really being too sensitive? Maybe Tsukishima was right. She always seemed to be the one causing problems.

He noticed her deflated expression and a flicker of something akin to amusement crossed his face. "Look," he said, his voice softening slightly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk, but you always come at me with some stupid problem that basically ends up being your fault, Maybe you should stop being a manager at the art club… it only distances us, we could spend more time together.."

Y/N managed a weak smile. "It's okay… perhaps you are right, i might end up dropping it… i dont think im even that good, and i would like to see you more often"

"See how easy it was? Now come here," he said, patting the space beside him.

Hesitantly, Y/N moved closer, sinking into the cushions beside him. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I love you, you know," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

Y/N relaxed against him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. She almost forgot about the argument, the hurt, the doubt that had been creeping into her mind. Almost.

This was a pattern. Tsukishima would push her buttons, make her feel small and insignificant, and then, just when she was about to break, he would offer a fleeting apology and draw her back in. It was exhausting, but she was starting to wonder if she was the one who was truly broken.

And i know some of you headcanon freaky ahh guchi as a cutie pie but i just know little prick even helps him, y'all cant trick me, he IS a little bitch too, just a little shy with others that arent tsukki.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Got Me Thinking

Part 4: If Your Girl Only Knew (Slight NSFW)

Synopsis: Jack invites you to one of his shows, and everyone is excited to see you, especially him. However, he had to warn you that the time had finally come for meeting the infamous Kelsey face to face.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Ever since that lust filled night when Jack came to visit, you were longing to see him again and be in his presence. During different times of the day, your thoughts would go back to that moment and how much pleasure he had brought you. So much that in more times than you could count, you found yourself having a river form in between your thighs and often found yourself putting your vibrator to good use. That would have to do at least until you saw him again.

Luckily a few weeks later, an opportunity arose when he called you on Facetime and asked you if you would want to come to one of his shows. Surprisingly, you hadn’t seen him perform since the two of you called it quits and thought it was long overdue.

You had kept tabs on him throughout the years and still supported him, but you simply did it from a distance.

“You busy this Friday?” He asked and all you did was eye him.

“Depends on who’s asking.” You answered while eating your chocolate covered strawberries that was from an edible arrangement that Jack had sent to your house earlier.

“Well I’m asking because I have a show I’m performing at in L.A. and I want you there with me.”

“Hmm, I guess I can fit you in my schedule.”

“What do you mean you guess? Stop acting like you don’t want my face buried between your thighs again. And I definitely want to be one of those strawberries right now. Why are you eating it like that? Getting me bricked up and shit.”

“Jackman! Cut it out, he’s downstairs.” You exclaimed while getting up to close your bedroom door.

“Like I give a flying fuck about that. He doesn’t deserve you anyway. Don’t act shy now, or did you forget what happened last night when I called you?”

You instantly got a smirk on your face remembering how Jack asked you to get off in front of him and all you remember was the camera view becoming blurry as he hit his peak and his cum went flying everywhere as he watched you.

“I see your phone survived what you put it through.”

“Look, it was your fault and I’d do it again too with no hesitation.”

“I know you would.”

Jack then got quiet and you looked at him curiously wondering what was on his mind.

“Jackson, why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”

He simply sighed before answering you.

“Kelsey is going to be there too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Jack, that’s your wife isn’t it? I would expect her to be with you sometimes.”

“Yes, but….”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll play nice and be on my best behavior and I might give you a private show once you’re done with your own.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Nope, you just have to be patient and wait and see. But, why am I worried about someone that clearly can’t give you what you want or satisfy you? From what everyone says about her, she obviously doesn’t compare to me.”

“Doesn’t even come close.”

“Isn’t it almost two in the morning over there? And where is she now?”

“It is and I have no idea where the hell she is and I don’t care. Probably out spending all my got damn money.”

You stifled a laugh and he simply shook his head.

“Well Clay does call her the wicked witch of the west for a reason.”

“And now I’ve really started to see why over the last two months.”

“We’ll talk about it later, but for right now you need to go to sleep and get all the rest you can get for Friday.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because you’ll have two performances to put on. One for your fans and the other one is for my eyes only. How do you think Kelsey would feel if we had a few minutes to ourselves after the show?”

“I can arrange it and make it happen and she can get the fuck over it.”

Friday was now here and you were on your way to the venue and made sure to leave a bit early so that being stuck in traffic wouldn’t become an issue. As you were driving, a facetime call came through and you saw it was Clay and quickly answered. You were now suddenly concerned and was hoping that everything was okay with Jack.

“Clay! Hi boo, what’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Please tell me you’re still coming, but hi to you too!”

“What the? What’s wrong?”

“Jack is in a mood again and you can guess why because there is literally only one answer at this point.”

“Oh, goodness.”

“I wish she would have stayed home but NOPE. So here we are and everyone is miserable so PLEASE tell me that you’re almost here. I don’t know how much more of her we can take.”

“Of course I’m still coming and I’m actually almost there. I left a little early because I knew traffic was going to be crazy.”

Just then Urban popped into the frame and was waving at you.

“Y/N!”

“URBANNN!”

“Hurry up and get your ass here. I’ll meet you outside and bring you to where everyone is. But uh, did he warn you about….?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Okay good. Didn’t want you walking into any surprises.”

“I’ll see you two in about ten minutes.” Without another word, you hung up and turned your attention back to the road ahead.

As promised, Urban met you outside and led you backstage where everyone was. As soon as you walked in the room, all attention was on you and Clay was the first one to capture you in a hug.

“We’re saved, we’re saved.” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh. When you looked over at Urban, he was laughing too so he obviously must have heard what Clay said.

“Y/N! Clay, move and stop hogging her!” Ace exclaimed while trying to get in between the two of you.

“Hiii Ace.”

“Hello, Y/N, and we need to talk business. As in business being your older sister.”

“ACE!! Leave the girl alone! She just got here! At least let her settle in before you start harassing her! Hi Y/N, I’m Neelam and I’ve heard such good things about you from Jack. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” So, this was the famous Neelam that everyone talked about.

“It’s so nice to meet you too!” You responded while returning the hug that she was giving you.

You scanned the room and didn’t see Jack or Kelsey so you assumed that they were together and sure enough right on cue, they both entered. Jack was walking in front of her and clearly pissed off about something as she was following behind him like a lost puppy and there was an obvious pout on her face.

“Babe!”

“Kelsey, drop it. I’m done talking about it.”

When Jack looked up and saw you, his grim mood turned the corner for the better and immediately ran over to you and picked you up as you began to laugh.

“Hiii boo. I see you’ve missed me.”

“You have NO idea.” He said loud enough so that only you could hear and squeezed you tighter. 

“When you left, I lost a part of me. It’s still so hard to believe, come back baby please cause weeee belong togetherrrr.” Clay started to sing when the two of you embraced and it was giving everyone in the entire room the hardest time in order not to laugh.

“I just love Mariah Carey. One of my favorites. Yall think she’s going to do a Vegas residency soon?” Clay asked as he was scrolling through his phone.

“I’d definitely come with you if she does.” Urban responded while shrugging and Neelam was eyeing the two of them.

She quickly mouthed ‘Behave’ while trying not to laugh herself.

Once Jack had placed you back on your feet, you suddenly felt a presence next to you and turned around to be face to face with Kelsey herself.

“Babe, who’s this?” She asked Jack and he clearly looked annoyed at the fact that she was even talking to him.

“Y/N, this is Kelsey, Kelsey this is Y/N, we went to high school together. She lives here and I asked her to come.” He answered while not taking his eyes off of you and his left arm was still around your waist which she was quick to notice. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You said as you held your hand out towards her, but she examined it before she took it.

“Oh, someone’s jealous.” Clay whispered to Urban and he immediately nodded.

“I didn’t realize you two were so close and had no idea you would be here tonight. I feel that is something important that you should tell your wife, don’t you think, Jackman?”

“Here she goes.” Clay quietly said while keeping his focus on his phone.

“They’ve been a lot closer than she thinks.” Urban muttered next to Clay and they both began to laugh.

“Kelsey, don’t start. So I have to tell you about every single person that I went to high school with and decided to reconnect with them?”

“I didn’t even mean it like that.”

“Well it sounds like you did.”

“Damn, 100 points to Gryffindor. He got her good with that one.” Ace said from behind you as you were simply standing there because it was now awkward.

Kelsey then turned back to you and gave you the fakest smile that she could muster. There was something about you that she couldn’t put her finger on, but she already knew for a fact she didn’t like you.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

“Okay, is she settled in now Neelam? Y/N! Let me at Janelle!” Ace said as he was now at the snack table and all you did was shake your head at him.

The time waiting for Jack’s set was spent with you goofing around with everyone backstage and getting to do a mini photoshoot in the hallway with Urban taking the pictures in order for you to be able to post them on your instagram later.

When you were across the room talking to 2fo with Jack right beside you, Kelsey went and sat next to Clay who had a confused look on his face when he noticed her.

“Uhh? Did you need something Kelsey?” He politely asked as he was silently cursing Urban for leaving him there by himself.

“How does Jack know her?”

“He told you earlier. They went to high school together. Didn’t you hear him?

“And they were just friends?” She asked, trying to find out more information about you.

“Don’t you think that this is a conversation for you and your husband to have?” Clay asked while finally turning to look at her.

“He doesn’t want to tell me anything anymore.”

“Hmm, I wonder why. Evil ass.” Clay muttered to himself so that she wouldn’t be able to hear.

“You still need to ask him and not me.”

“Is there…. Is there something I should be worried about?”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Jack hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since he saw her when she got here.”

“Well.. they haven’t seen each other in a long time and they were really close.”

“How close?”

“Kelsey, ask my brother.”

“But obviously you know something, but aren’t telling me.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re a little jealous? You’re the wife, right? So you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

“I’m not jealous! It just seems like everyone adores her and all of the attention has been on her.”

“She’s an amazing person. Always has been. Our parents absolutely love her too.”

“Wait, she knows your parents, too?!”

“Like I said before, they were extremely close.”

Soon there was only about twenty more minutes until it was time for Jack to go on stage and you wanted to give him a small gift since you still hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday. You knew deep down that he didn’t care and was simply excited to see you, but you still wanted to do something nice for him. As he was about to head to his dressing room, you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Hey, I have something to give you, but I want it to be when we’re by ourselves.”

“Hmm, is it what I think it is?” He asked as he wiggled his eyebrows and you quickly smacked his arm.

“Behave! And no, but… if we can make our way to your dressing room now, I can give you a good luck kiss and maybe a little more?”

All he did was smirk and start to play with the ends of your hair which Kelsey was very quick to notice and was quick to interrupt.

“Babe, isn’t it time for your good luck kiss since you’re about to hit the stage?”

“Gag me with a spoon.” Quiiso said to 2fo who was trying not to laugh.

“Um, sure in a minute. Let me go get dressed first. And Y/N had something to show me so we’ll be back.”

He put his hand on the small of your back and guided you down the hallway to his dressing room as Kelsey was left sitting there fuming at what just happened.

Once the two of you got to his dressing room, he closed the door behind him and locked it then his lips were instantly on yours.

“Mm, I’ve missed that and this.” He said as his hand went to cup your ass in the skirt that you were wearing.

“You definitely made that clear on our facetime call earlier this week.”

“So, what did you want to give to me? Is it another purple thong? Because at this point I’m about to start collecting them like infinity stones.”

“I literally CANNOT with your ass.” You said while laughing and Jack pulled you closer to him so that he was able to kiss you once more.

“Look, I figured I’d ask and when I collected all of them it would unlock some type of bonus scene.”

“Jackson PLEASE stop talking.” You responded as you continued to laugh.

“What?!  What’d I say?!”

“Anyway, for starters, it’s not a thong because I’m not wearing anything under my outfit at all.” You whispered against his lips and grabbed his hand to place it underneath your skirt.

His fingers grazed against your core and you were getting wetter by the second. He then inserted two of his fingers and slowly moved them before putting them in his mouth and sucking on them. Just like he did the last time the two of you saw each other.

“There’s definitely more where that came from, but we have to save it for later.” He quietly said, but all you did was get on your knees without breaking eye contact with him and started playing with the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You definitely don’t need a good luck kiss from Kelsey, but will good luck head be acceptable?”

All he did was nod his head as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxer briefs and immediately took him in your mouth.

“Ahh shit.”

Jack didn’t want to mess up your hair so he simply pushed it back out of your face as you continued to pleasure him.

“I’m definitely going to need you to sit on my face after this later. FUCK!”

Because you knew that he didn’t have a lot of time, you were trying to move as fast as possible in order to get him to cum and you could tell that it was working seeing as Jack’s eyes were now closed as he threw his head back in pleasure and was trying to lightly force you down on him.

“My girl looks so pretty taking all of me in her mouth. That’s it baby, that’s it. I’m close.”

You hearing him say that he was close made you move even quicker with a sense of urgency because the last thing you wanted was for him to be late for his set.

“Fuck!” Was the last thing you heard as he came in your mouth and you swallowed it without wasting a drop.

When he was finished coming down from his high, he looked down at you and smiled before helping you to your feet and kissing you.

“I want to return the favor.”

“But… we don’t have a lot of time.”

“We have as much time as I say we have. I’m the headliner and calling the damn shots.” Was all he said before leading you to the couch and immediately pulling your shirt down to expose your breasts that he began to play with them, lightly sucking and biting.

“Babe, that’s going to leave a mark.” You whined and he simply shrugged.

“I’m marking my territory.”

He didn’t waste a lot of time before pulling your skirt up to your hips, spreading your legs and diving in head first.

By the time that Jack had gotten dressed and you had given him his gift, which was an exclusive Rolex that was personalized and had his initials on the band inside, he was only a minute late. 

“I’m definitely wearing this onstage. Thank you Buttercup.” He said as he leaned down to kiss you and you were simply admiring his outfit as you helped him put on the watch. 

His outfit was your favorite color.

Green.

“Hmm, you wore this outfit on purpose, didn’t you?” You asked and all he did was smirk.

“What ever do you mean, baby?”

“Such a fucking tease.”

—

As you were in the front and standing off to the side watching Jack perform, Neelam came up to you and smiled. You returned the smile and the two of you watched him in silence before she turned back to you to say something.

“Y/N, I just wanted to tell you how much the people around him see how much happier he’s been since you two reconnected.”

“Well you can thank Clay for that.” You said thinking about when he first asked you.

“I.. look.. Jack is not only my client, but someone who I consider my little brother. He has talked about you non-stop and all I want is for him to be happy and I know that his happiness is wherever you are. Kelsey isn’t good for him and we could all see it from the beginning. He just didn’t want to listen. ”She said, being completely honest.

“That seems to be the running theme of what everyone keeps telling me. He’s definitely important to me and I want the best for him. I just wish sometimes that we never broke up because I always think about how our life might have turned out differently.”

“Well the two of you reconnecting wasn’t by chance and it was definitely meant to happen. I just want you to know that whatever that you two have going on because I know that there is something there because my big sister radar is going off, I support it. I just want him to be happy again. That’s all we literally all want.”

“I wish it was that simple.” You replied while sighing.

“Well, why isn’t it?”

“You said Jack told you a lot about me, but did he mention my husband?”

Neelam looked at you dumbfounded before she responded.

“You act like the word divorce doesn’t exist?”

“And that’s my problem.”

“What is?”

“I love Jack like if he would have asked me to elope when we were eighteen, I would have without a second thought and that is still true as we speak, but I also love my husband as fucked up of a person that he is and I’m having second thoughts about divorcing him.”

Liked by urbanwyatt, jackharlow, neelamthadhani, claybornharlow, thenursecorner, and 450,831 others

anesthesiabae: friends supporting friends

jackharlow love you forever and I will always be proud of you 💖

jackharlow: so happy you came tonight, thank you 😘 claybornharlow: reunited and it feels so good yungskylark: aye! y/n lemme get Janelle's number!!! anesthesiabae: jackharlow any time you need me, I'm here urbanwyatt: mariah carey- anytime you need a friend jackharlow: anesthesiabae so this means I can ask for my hoodie back now right? anesthesiabae: ACE... NO! and jackharlow if I didn't give it back and 12 years have now passed, what makes you think that you'll get it at all? jackharlow: anesthesiabae closed mouths don't get fed, now do they? neelamthadhani: so happy that I finally got to meet you! jackharlowsource: oohh she's pretty! jackharlow spill! who is this pretty lady?!

[im-a-wonderling]

White Moves First, Part 7 ~ Edmund Pevensie

Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?

Warnings: an unhealthy paternal relationship and a deviation from canon as I don't think Archenland ever had chapels in the Golden Age. But we can't have a royal wedding without a chapel!!

Word count: 5.6k

White Moves First Masterlist | Main masterlist

Edmund ran down the corridor, the absurd frills of his blue and silver wedding doublet scratching at his neck. He should’ve known better than to trust Susan to give him something without lace, but that was not what he cared about now. Edmund tried to get the attention of the manservant walking past him, but the man didn’t notice him until Edmund grabbed his shoulder. “Where’s the king?” he asked.

“In his study, Your Majesty.”

Edmund took off down the hallway again. Of all days for the silversmith to go on a trip to visit his brother, why did it have to be today? The ceremony was going to start in less than an hour, and Edmund still didn’t have Y/N’s proper ring. It was supposed to arrive by courier this morning, and there was no sign of any courier, and the silversmith was gone. 

Was it Edmund’s fault? Had Edmund designed too complicated a ring for too short a time? He’d wanted the ring to be special and completely unique, something that Y/N could be proud to wear. Now, because he was so particular, she wasn’t going to have a ring for the wedding.

Which was unacceptable and entirely his fault. Two of his least favorite things. 

Edmund burst into the study. “Your Majesty–” He stopped in the doorway, seeing the desk empty. He scowled. Why would the manservant have said that King Loon was in the study when–

“Well, if it isn’t the groom himself.”

Edmund’s spine stiffened as he slowly turned to see the foreign prince who sat on an armchair, legs crossed and fingers swirling a glass definitely not holding water. Rabadash’s fashionable ensemble was neat and lacked any of the stifling ruffles of Edmund’s as well as any sweat stains like the ones Edmund could feel underneath his arms that he hoped were discreet. 

Rabadash rose from his armchair with smooth ease. “Does the Just King need directions to the stables for a quick getaway?” 

Edmund took a deep breath. 

It was not worth it. 

Not today.

He wheeled around and left. At first he thought only his heart was beating in his ears, until the sound of footsteps grew loud. “Don’t fret, Your Majesty, I assure you the princess will not be lonely in your absence.” 

Don’t answer, Edmund commanded himself. There are bigger things to worry about. Like Y/N’s ring. 

“Of course, my company would not be able to ease the pain in your heart.”

Edmund whirled around. “What in blazes are you going on about?”

“Do you love her?”

“I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t,” Edmund snapped before he even had a chance to think about it. 

Rabadash chuckled, his eyes flicking to the ceiling like it would start laughing along with him if it could. “You don’t even understand how true that statement is.”

“Do you have anything of substance to say,” Edmund’s hands curled into fists, “or will you continue to prattle? Because I’m needed in the chapel shortly.”

Rabadash lifted his hand, showing off his much too long, yet perfectly manicured nails on fingers that had never done a hard or honest day’s work in their life. “You and your precious princess should know: I love a good challenge. Marrying her simply because of you would be too easy.”

Edmund started to turn away before Rabadash’s words fully registered, and he hovered. He wanted to keep walking, to pay Rabadash as much attention as the prince deserved, which was far less than he’d already gotten. But this concerned Y/N.

“What do you mean?” Edmund demanded.

“Oh, did Y/N not tell you?” 

Edmund kept his anger in check, knowing that a bland expression was far more antagonizing than an angry one. This crooked-nosed knave was trying to divide the two of them. Well, it wouldn’t work. Y/N would never keep information from him.

Would she? 

“Tell me what?” 

Rabadash leaned against the wall, clearly relishing Edmund’s attention despite the casual airs he was trying to put on. “I only wanted her because of you. If she was in Tashbaan as my wife, you would never allow Narnia to attack, because no matter how upset you were about your barbarian sister, risking Y/N’s life would be unthinkable. A lifelong hostage to secure my country’s well being.”

Edmund didn’t realize he was holding his breath until pressure started building in his chest. Rabadash had set his claims on Y/N because of him?

“The stoic,” Rabadash stepped closer, “level-headed,” another step, “mighty King Edmund.” He spread his hands, showing off for an imaginary audience. “The man capable of winning any negotiation leapt onto a dance floor to save one woman from a Calormen prince.” Rabadash lowered his arms, his smile somehow becoming more sinister. “And it wasn’t his sister.”

Edmund thought back to the ball, trying to recall when Rabadash had danced with Susan, but while he could list off every one of the nine dances Rabadash had partnered with Y/N for, he didn’t even have a memory of Susan on the dance floor at all.

“You showed your cards, King Edmund. All of this would’ve been easier if you’d just let me have her, but no.” The prince’s voice lowered to a whisper: “The Tisroc, may he live forever, has agents in the Narnian court.”

Edmund’s blood turned icy in his veins as the prince’s face darkened, hinting at the void of evil resting in this one man. 

“It wouldn’t take much, you know. An unlocked bedchamber door…a sleight of hand over a wine goblet…an unaccompanied walk in the gardens…and a marriage is over almost before it began.”

Edmund reeled away, putting as much distance between himself and Rabadash as he could. The faster he moved, the less likely it was that his fist would become enthusiastically acquainted with the prince’s nose. 

Y/N.

He had to find her. 

Not caring what the prince thought, Edmund broke into a run. 

-

I stared out of my drawing room window at the Northern mountains as I had many times before. Except now, I knew with certainty I would pass through those mountains to see the beautiful country on the other side. 

Narnia. 

Nerves fluttered in my stomach, reminding me that I hadn’t been able to force down my breakfast this morning, nor my dinner last night. When night fell, I’d lain in bed, worrying about whether or not my dress would be completed in time. 

As I gently ran my fingers along the soft taffeta of my bodice, I knew I needn’t have worried, and yet I was quite sure I would’ve found something else to worry about, like forgetting the vows that my father had written for the ceremony. Memorizing them had rankled every part of me, but I was grateful enough to Edmund for convincing my father to let me say vows that I couldn’t complain. Not when I was about to leave this castle. The vows would be the last time my father spoke for me. 

I heard the latch of the drawing room door lift. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet, Rona,” I sighed. “We still have another half hour to wait at least.” There was no answer, but I was quite content to draw comfort from the mountain line in silence. I might never see them again from this side. 

“Princess.”

The familiar voice so dear to me had me turning in an instant.

My fiance hovered just inside the doorway, his chest rising and falling as if he’d been running. “Edmund? What are you doing here?” Even as I asked, I laughed a little at the idea of Lord Trane’s face if he were to know that Edmund had seen me in my wedding dress before the wedding.

Edmund looked at the dress, looking more and more like he’d swallowed a frog.

“Do I look very nice?” I asked mischievously, referencing our conversation in the gardens after the ball. But my teasing didn’t make Edmund relax or smile.

“Y-you look…I mean…it’s…” 

“Edmund?” I stepped forward, concerned about his shallow, rapid breathing. Something wasn’t right. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted, but Rabadash is here–everyone is here, and they’re all gonna stare at us as we get married and they’ll be watching us for the rest of our lives–and your ring–a-and your father–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Edmund!” He buried his face in his hands, and I ran to him, placing my hands on his elbows, trying to coax his hands away from his face, but his stance was rock-solid. “How can I make this better?” I asked, feeling so helpless. 

“I don’t know.” His muffled words were so stressed, it made me feel sick. 

I lifted my hands to his head, taking off his crown and setting it on my chessboard right next to me before soothingly brushing his hair back like Rona did once when I was sick. “It’s not too late,” I whispered. “We can still call off the wedding.”

“Absolutely not,” Edmund croaked, pulling his hands away from his face, allowing me to see the deep distress written there. “I won’t leave you vulnerable to Rabadash.” He looked off to the side. Three times he opened his mouth, and three times, I was greeted only by silence. 

My anxiety rose. “What is it?”

Edmund lifted his troubled eyes to mine. “I have uncovered Rabadash’s motives for pursuing you. His observations led him to discover my affection for you and…he believed if he possessed you as his wife, I would never allow war between Narnia and Calormen.” He paused, as if waiting for a reaction. “I’m the reason he was trying to marry you.”

Rabadash’s words from my confrontation with him came floating back. A look is all it takes to know when a man is in love. But Edmund’s panicked expression looked nothing like what I imagined love to look like. Combining his panic with the sudden epiphany he seemed to be having, I knew. “You talked with Rabadash.”

“I tried not to. I tried to walk away, but then he came after me, spouting nonsense about me backing out and how he would,” Edmund’s mouth contorted with repulsion, “comfort you in my absence, and he said that you knew his true motives and didn’t tell me.” 

My gaze fell to the floor, and distantly I realized Edmund was wearing new shoes. 

“You did know.” The disappointment in his voice ripped at me. “Y/N, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I should have, especially before you proposed. I-I just didn’t want you to feel…responsible.”

Edmund raked his hands through his hair, making it stick up in comically asymmetrical directions. “But I am responsible. I’m the reason you were ever in danger of marrying him, my treatment and attention put you at risk, not to mention it’s my country he’s trying to overcome. That makes it my solemn duty to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe.” 

Duty.

“Edmund, I…” I didn’t know what to say. It was just like him to do the right thing at the expense of himself. “You didn’t want a marriage. You shouldn’t change that just for some perceived injustice.”

“On the contrary,” he replied, “protecting you is one of the only things that could persuade me to marry at all.” 

A fleeting warmth filled my chest, but it was quickly snuffed out by guilt. “We shouldn’t do this, I cannot ever repay the debt I would owe you if we married, not even–”

“Y/N,” Edmund interrupted. “You do not owe me any debt. If anything, I owe you–”

“No,” I insisted, “how could you possibly–”

Abruptly, we both stopped talking long enough to meet each other’s eyes before laughing. “This is not the future either of us imagined,” I ventured when our laughter stopped.

Edmund’s mirth faded to obvious unease. “Soon we’ll be standing in front of the world, publicly declaring our…”

Love.

“Fidelity.”

My lips twisted at the choice of words, but I couldn’t hold any grudge against Edmund for it. Not with what he was about to do for me. If only we could marry without the onlookers, without all the ceremony. To start a marriage with a performance isn’t something I ever hoped for or something that the sweet, honorous king in front of me deserved. 

Then, an idea started to take shape. 

I licked my lips nervously. “What if…we make our promises here?” 

Edmund blinked. “Huh?” 

I had to withhold a laugh. Whether it bubbled forth from his somewhat adorable confusion or from a bit of hysterics, it wouldn’t be helpful. “We make our true vows now, without anyone watching and without any pretenses.” I gazed at the door. “When we walk out there, we’re a king and a princess, but here, we’re…us. And when we’re talking about the rest of our lives, it’ll be us. Not Rabadash, not my father, not even Archenland and Narnia. Us.” 

I almost could feel the king’s mind racing as it molded itself into an understanding of my words. The suspicion of his expression didn’t lift, but I knew him well enough to know his suspicion often ran alongside his intrigue. “So what would we promise?”

“Ummm.” I wracked my brain, trying to think of the right thing to say. Should I promise loyalty? To bring honor and prosperity to his kingdom? To maintain a happy home for him? But then I looked at my friend, taking in his freckles and soulful brown eyes, and my frenzied thinking slowed. I didn’t want the flowery and unrealistic promises that my father had penned for us, and nor did he. The grand gestures were for the chapel, not this room. My eyes fell upon my beloved chessboard, and the words came to me. “I promise to keep beating you in chess.”

My flippancy was rewarded with a smile and a snort. “You can promise to try.”

Together, we giggled, and I felt my heart lighten enough for my next statement. “I promise to keep believing in you. Whatever plans you set your heart on, I will encourage you and never let you forget your strengths.”

“Or my weaknesses?” Edmund’s mouth curved into a wry smile. 

I smiled back at him. “Oh, we can let those slide.”

“Not entirely, I hope,” he hurried to say. “I wouldn’t want my head to grow too big for my crown.” 

“Your siblings are too similar to mine for them to ever allow that.” 

The room was silent for a moment as Edmund’s gaze locked on mine. “I promise to keep you safe. I will protect you from any threat, whether in the form of a contemptuous prince from Tashbaan or otherwise.”

I tilted my head at the unexpected energy behind his words. “You can promise to try,” I echoed. “But if something happens to me, you don’t get to punish yourself.” 

Edmund shook his head slowly, and I knew there was no way to budge the determination in his eyes. There was no doubt that he would defend me strenuously, though I wasn’t sure what threats possibly awaited me at Cair Paravel.

My turn again. 

With the guilt of withholding Rabadash’s motives from Edmund, I knew what to say next. “I promise to always tell you the truth. If or when you ask for my opinion, I promise to give it as I mean it.”

The change on Edmund’s face was subtle: the ever so slight widening of his eyes and the parting of his lips. I knew the wheels of his mind spun as he processed the words I’d just uttered. 

For a split second, I wavered. Was that the wrong thing to say? I was certain that my mother had never uttered such a promise to my father, and if she had, my father would’ve been insulted, perhaps even angered by such audacity.

Then the corners of Edmund’s mouth turned up, a breathy laugh escaping. “You are sensational, you know that?”

I chuckled, feeling simultaneously self-conscious and relieved. “I am not sure of that.”

“Then I promise to never let you forget. That is what spouses are to do, right?” Edmund took both my hands, his thumb fiddling with the silver signet ring resting on my pointer finger. “Hearten and inspire?”

“I guess so.” I kept my eyes lowered. “I vow to look the other way if you take a lover.”

Edmund sucked in a breath, jerking his hands away from me. “Don’t–”

“It needs to be said,” I whispered. Edmund shook his head violently from side to side, rejecting my promise as vigorously as he could without words.  “Edmund, I know you. Someday, there will be a woman, a very lucky woman, and you will love her with all of your heart. And I won’t stand in the way of that.”

“Y/N–”

“I mean it.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Nothing about this is how it’s supposed to be.” Edmund’s face fell, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I’d insulted him, and I hadn’t meant to. “I don’t want this to be suffocating,” I said slowly. “I don’t want to be someone that holds you down, I want to be someone that lifts you up.”

Edmund finally looked at me, his posture more burdened than before. “I will look the other way too,” he said finally. I wanted to argue, to assure him I would not—could not be with any other man—but this was him fighting to give me something he’d always fought to give me. 

Equality. 

“Very well,” I conceded. 

“I promise to do what you ask of me,” Edmund said slowly. “If you make a request that is within my power, I shall grant it.” Such a promise shouldn’t be made lightly, and I knew by my friend’s face that he’d thought it through and meant every word. 

I picked up Edmund’s crown from my chessboard and smoothed his hair down. “You seem calmer.”

“I feel calmer.” Edmund bent down slightly to allow me a better vantage point to properly set his crown on his head. “Are you ready?”

“There’s…something else.” I took a steadying breath, letting my hands fall away from him. “Children.” Edmund immediately ducked his head, red sweeping across his cheeks. His face likely felt as hot as mine, but I plowed forward. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but if we’re going to go through with this, we must talk about it first.”

“Alright.” Edmund rolled his shoulders. “Children aren’t…necessary. I am only one of four monarchs. I do not have to…produce an heir.”

I chewed on that for a moment. “But are they…wanted?” I didn’t receive an answer. “I know you didn’t want a wife, so it’d be fair to assume you don’t want children either.”

Nervous hands adjusted the ruffles at his neck. “I haven’t desired children.” He looked up warily. “Do you want them?” I gnawed on my lip. Edmund didn’t want children, so was there any point in bringing up–

“Y/N,” Edmund said softly. “You promised me honesty if I asked for it.” 

I forcefully pushed my breath out of my mouth in a long sigh. “Yes. I want them. Not right away, but…eventually.”

Edmund bobbed his head nervously, nodding along to my sentiment. “Then…I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”

My knowledge was admittedly limited, but based on an awkward conversation I’d overheard between my brothers, I was pretty sure there was only one way to make children happen.

Edmund scratched his neck. “I, uh, I designed a ring for you, but it hasn’t arrived, so…we may have to use the signet ring again today.”

He designed it? My curiosity rose, though I was careful to remain reassuring. “That’s alright.” I flashed him what I hoped was a warm smile as I wiggled his signet ring off my pointer finger and dropped it into his palm. “I quite like–”

The bells rang, startling both of us. As they tolled, I felt the weight of every ring. The signal of the ending of our lives up to this point and the beginning of a new life neither one of us had expected. 

“We have to go,” I said, dizzied by the rushing return of my nerves. 

“Yes.” Edmund lifted his head, looking much calmer and nearly resolute. “There is more for us to decide upon, I know, but for now, we’ve made a good start.” He nodded to himself. “We will work everything out.”

The door burst open, and there stood Rona, breathing heavily. “There you are, my lady.” Then her eyes fell on Edmund. “Oh dear,” she said quietly. 

Edmund merely held a hand up to his lips and slid past her. 

She watched him go, her expression filling with dismay. “Bad luck, milady!” she exclaimed once he was gone.

I grinned. “The king and I are making our own luck today, Rona.” I gazed out at the mountains again. “And it’s already quite a serendipitous day.”

-

Rona ushered me in front of the closed chapel doors. “Your father will be waiting at the altar for you, so you will be walking by yourself. When the doors open, that’s your cue!” With that, she scurried off, perhaps to reach her seat before I started my procession. 

My first time inside the chapel’s tall, imposing walls was when I was christened as a baby, but the first time I could remember was the ceremony for my mother’s death. My father had warned me not to fuss, to stand straight, and ‘for heaven’s sake not to cry’. 

Since then, the chapel had proved to be the prime hideout to shed the tears and speak the words I wasn’t allowed to elsewhere. The stained glass windows, the pews, and the great, golden statue of the lion were all great listeners. But there would be no tears today and every spoken word had been chosen for me.

I looked down at my dress, at the long sleeves that hugged my arms and the flowing skirt that ended just before it met the floor, committing the moment in memory. 

The telltale creak of the doors as they opened made me look up, and I froze at the sheer number of people standing at the pews, staring back at me. Blinking at them, I tried counting, but there were too many faces. For every face I recognized, there were five I didn’t. There weren’t even seats for them all, some of the less fortunate having to stand beside the walls. Why had my father invited so many? 

A gradation of harp notes played a sweet tune, spurring me to step into the chapel. 

My father beamed at me from his place at the top of the dias at the end of the aisle, just in front of the statue of Aslan. Edmund waited for me at the foot of the three stairs, looking so regal and composed that I didn’t know whether to envy him or worry that my nerves and dread made us an unequal match. 

As I reached the halfway point, I finally noticed Edmund’s sisters sitting on the right side—the groom’s side—and my brothers sitting on the left. While Queen Lucy lifted a quick hand to her already teary eyes, my brothers’ eyes were sharp. Following their gaze, I noticed Prince Rabadash leaning against the wall beside Queen Susan’s pew. 

When he saw me looking, he inclined his head. 

I quickly averted my eyes, trying to push the Calormen prince out of my mind. He may have been the reason for this wedding, but he would not be the center of it. 

It felt like an eternity before I reached Edmund. “I forgot to say,” he whispered as I took his hand, “you do look very nice.”

Instantly more at ease, I grinned at him as I held up my skirts to step up on the dias. As we faced my father, the king, my smile softened. Weddings were special days for fathers and daughters. For all that led up to this moment, it would still be a special day. 

“I think some part of me always knew this day would come,” my father began, looking at me with something so similar to pride, it nearly made my throat close. “King Edmund and my daughter have always had such a special bond, it seems this day was inevitable.” He placed his hands over his heart, looking over at the man holding my hand. “But to call King Edmund my son-in-law is a privilege I feel unworthy of.”

My smile slipped, and I lowered my eyes, trying to get my feelings under control before the guests could notice. 

“Putting feelings aside, this day will go down in history as the day Narnia,” my father gestured towards Edmund, “and Archenland,” and then gestured to himself, “swear loyalty to each other for many years to come.”

I reached down to grab Edmund’s hand, only to find that it was already waiting for me. He held on tight enough to keep me steady as I stared at my father. Look at me, I pleaded. Look at your daughter as she’s getting married. 

But my father’s attention was wholly claimed by the crowd. The pride emanating from him was directed at them, proving that this wedding was not a celebration, but an opportunity for my father to show off. 

Raising my eyes, I noticed that at least the lion statue’s eyes seemed to look upon me. 

“Now the groom shall take the bride’s hands.” 

I stiffly turned to face Edmund, thankful for the anchor that was having his warm hands holding mine. 

“King Edmund, your vows,” my father prompted.

Edmund looked at me, and though his face was placid, I could sense his reluctance to recite whatever pompous and overdone words my father had chosen. 

"Today, in front of these witnesses, I, King Edmund of Narnia, take you, Princess Y/N of Archenland, as my wife.” Here Edmund paused, the small muscle above the right side of his top lip twitching. “I pledge to thee my unwavering love, my unfailing sword, and my undying service from this day forth. I will be thine companion, in great wealth or want, in much joy or sorrow, until death us do part." His voice rang out clearly, and my ears caught the sound of multiple sighs from the more sentimental guests. 

Apparently, they didn’t think my father’s expectations for ‘unfailing sword’ and ‘great wealth’ were as obvious as I did. Nor would they see the way my father’s nostrils flared for a moment as our eyes met. “Princess Y/N.” He glanced at the guests. “Your vows?”

In the resulting silence, I knew those sitting amongst the chapel pews were exercising much restraint in not immediately leaning into each other and whispering. 

I squared my shoulders, meeting Edmund’s eyes, which urged me to just spit out the vows and get it over with. We’d already made the vows that mattered. My words were just part of the show, not part of my marriage. 

“Today, in front of these witnesses, I, Princess Y/N of Archenland, take you, King Edmund of Narnia, as my husband.” I took a deep breath. “With…nothing else to give but my heart, I pledge to thee my unwavering faithfulness. As the great lion binds wisdom, so do I bind my life to thee, in love and honor, until the very last of my days.”

It was humiliating. Absolutely humiliating. 

My father’s vows focused on Edmund’s ‘unfailing sword’ and ‘great wealth’, yet I had ‘nothing else to give but my heart’? And why had my father written Edmund’s vows to end when death parted us, yet mine lasted until the end of my life? 

I blinked away frustrated tears. My friends—the windows, the pews, and the statue—were not the only observers today, and I would not have my father twist my bitterness into tears of joy for all those watching. Edmund squeezed my hand, and I knew from the same twitching above his lip that he regarded my father’s words with a distaste rivaling mine. 

“Now the groom will place his ring on the bride.” Edmund slid his old signet ring on my ring finger. It felt wrong on that finger, and not just because it was too large. “And the bride shall place her ring on the groom.” Again, I could feel the astonishment of all the guests, but Edmund held out his hand, smiling at me as I slid the plain silver ring onto his finger. The sight of it there was strangely gratifying. 

“Now, with the authority vested in me by the great lion, I now pronounce you, husband and wife!” My father clapped his hands. “King Edmund, you may kiss your bride!”

I stared dumbfounded at Edmund who stared back.

Kiss.

We hadn’t talked about the kiss.

I’d forgotten. 

How could I have forgotten?

A kiss was a staple in every wedding ceremony. 

My heart tumbled into a furious pace. I’d never kissed anyone before, and the fears started flooding in. Did people’s noses bump together when they kissed? Could you taste what someone ate for breakfast? Was it possible to run out of air? Would it hurt?

No. No, this was Edmund. It couldn’t hurt…could it?

-

Edmund had no clue what to do. He’d kissed a girl back in England, but not since he’d come to Narnia. Centaurs and fauns weren’t his type. And now he had to kiss his closest and dearest friend in front of a crowd? 

He wanted this—the mark of the beginning of the rest of their lives—to be good for Y/N. Or at least not horrible. Oh Aslan, what if it was horrible? What if their marriage had a horrible start? And what if she never wanted to kiss him again? 

A quick kiss. A momentary kiss. A barely-there kiss. Something so respectful that it could barely count as a kiss. Yes, that was the way to go.

With a gulp, Edmund leaned forward. He was perhaps two moments away from touching his lips to hers when he remembered: Rabadash was somewhere in this chapel. A man who could use anything as evidence and even more as motivation.

This was another chance, just like in the garden, to show that Y/N wasn’t and would never be Rabadash’s. 

Maybe Y/N would hate him for it. But maybe she would be safer. And maybe that chance was worth it. 

Edmund’s hands found Y/N’s neck, his thumbs gently tilting her chin up as he tipped his head to the side. The intent was only for the ease of reaching her lips, of guiding her to him, but then he glimpsed a flash of her scar, bringing him straight back to the drawing room and the gardens and every other time he’d been this close to kissing her. And now he was actually doing it. His mind went blank just before his lips met heaven. 

-

The brush of our lips was tentative. I hoped with every fiber of my being that Edmund couldn’t feel my shaking, nor the great grip I had on his doublet. 

Oh, I thought as Edmund pulled away. So our noses don’t collide. 

Then he pressed his lips to mine more firmly. My anxiety skyrocketed as the guests cheered, making my limbs lock tight. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? It didn’t feel like I’d expected it to feel like. Was this a dream? Was I about to wake up and find out this whole thing had been a dream?

His grip on my face tightened ever so slightly, a great tingling starting in my stomach as my heart raced. My face and neck were so warm, I was worried they might burn Edmund’s hands, certainly his thumbs as he brushed them along my jaw. Then as his lips pulled away and returned a third time, one of his hands left my neck to cradle my back, pulling me in tighter as the skin of my back beneath his hand smoldered.

This time, when Edmund pulled back, I leaned forward, winding my arms around his neck as I relaxed into his touch, the racing thoughts slipping away. Was I floating?

-

Edmund pulled away, cursing his own weakness in such an important moment. That was not a barely-there kiss, and if Edmund wasn’t already married to Y/N, he’d certainly have to wed her after a kiss like that. 

The raucous, ear-splitting cheering of the guests meant nothing to him as he anxiously searched Y/N’s face.

Her eyes were still shut. Why were they still shut? Had he hurt her? Or made her uncomfortable? The idea of doing either made Edmund shake inside. 

But when her eyes fluttered open, she gave a small giggle, almost too quiet for him to hear amongst the noise of the guests. The tension drained away from his body as he stared at her with overpowering relief that weakened his knees.

They’d done it, they’d made it through the ceremony. 

“Everyone is invited to a wedding feast in the Great Hall!” Y/N’s father proclaimed to the crowd, who cheered louder in response, who started filing out. King Loon hastened to walk around the couple, diving into the crowd, likely to try and find the influential guests before they sat down to eat. 

“You alright?” Edmund said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Y/N said, a bit breathlessly. “Are you?”

Edmund looked down at his friend…his wife and swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

-

Hopefully the kiss wasn't cringy, lol. Here's Part 8!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

White Moves First tag list:

@thelifeofsecretpenguins @read-just-cant @chesh-ire-cat @emotionallyattachedteen @cassini-among-the-stars @uncontainedsmiles @mastermasterlist1p1 @goldfishinpainttubes @silverowl102 @daisyslife

[airybcby]

omg i’m in love w ur writing 😭

if you can (ofc), for the bllk spotify match up my top artist was gracie abrams and her song “close to you” 💔 i saw your post and i think it’d give a super fun scenario

hiii!! tysm! ofc!

if your top artist was gracie abrams and your top song was close to you, i’d pair you with…

chigiri hyoma

જ⁀♡⊹｡° break my heart and start a fire

♡ a/n — part of my spotify wrapped event ♡

♡ content — chigiri hyoma x gn! reader, lowkey has no time frame but focused on chigiri after his injury, reader and chigiri drifting apart, best friends to...strangers?

♡ synopsis — you'd been by his side for everything, even when he got hurt, but after his passion for soccer is reignited; are you enough for him anymore?

you remember when it used to be easy with him. when the distance between you felt like nothing more than a passing breeze, a gap easily closed with a word, a laugh, a look.

but now, as you sit across the room from him, it feels like an entire ocean stretches between you.

hyoma’s always had a way of making everything seem effortless—the way he glides on the field, the way his hair catches the light, the way he looks at you with eyes that always seem to see right through you. but lately, his eyes don’t linger like they used to.

he’s here, but he’s not. not really.

“hyoma,” you say softly, testing the weight of his name on your tongue instead of one of the many nicknames you'd given him.

he looks up from where he’s lacing his cleats, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “yeah?”

you don’t know what you want to say, not exactly. there are a million things you want to tell him, but none of them feel like they’ll reach him. not the version of him who sits in front of you now, so focused, so unreachable.

“do you ever—” you stop yourself.

what were you going to say? consider quitting soccer for good? thinking about not joining blue lock? thinking about you for once?

no matter what you wanted to ask, this isn’t the time.

he tilts his head, waiting. for a moment, you see the boy he used to be—the one who would wait for you outside after class, who’d smile when you teased him, who’d let you in without question.

but it’s fleeting, like a ghost of someone you once knew.

“never mind,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “it’s not important.”

you wouldn't burden him with your hypotheticals.

he nods, already turning his attention back to his gear. it’s not his fault, you tell yourself. this is who he is—dedicated, driven, chasing something bigger than either of you. you knew that the day you met him.

but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

you watch him tie the last knot, the sharp, determined movements so distinctly him. and you wish, desperately, that you could be closer to him. not just physically, but truly close.

close enough to bridge the gap that seems to widen with every passing day.

but hyoma’s world is one of constant motion, a blur of goals and dreams that you’re not sure you can keep up with.

you’re terrified that one day, he’ll run so far ahead that you won’t even be a speck in his rearview mirror.

when he stands, hiking his bag over his shoulder, he pauses. “i’ll see you later, okay?” he says, his voice soft.

a reassurance that, maybe, just maybe, the boy you knew is still inside him somewhere.

you nod, but your chest aches. “yeah. see you later.”

he smiles, that same breathtaking smile that used to feel like it was meant just for you. but now, it feels like it belongs to someone else.

that smile belongs to his dreams, his ambitions, his future—one that you’re not sure you’re a part of anymore.

the door closes behind him, and you’re left alone with the silence.

you hate how much you miss him, even when he’s right in front of you.

you hate how far away he feels, even when he promises to come back.

but most of all, you hate that no matter how much you long to be close to him again, you know deep down that he’s already drifting too far away.

definitely went off of what i originally wanted to do lmao, but i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!