#and what will they think of her? for having this darkness inside of her. will they think she's like him?

[beloveds-embrace]

(more of designationless!reader)

Soap found the box by accident. You never meant for it to follow you, never meant for it to be seen by anyone but yourself. It was a relic from a past you thought you’d buried, stuffed away in a dark corner of the storage room, forgotten like so many other things, brought by mistake when you changed between units again and again.

But Soap found it.

The box was old, its cardboard edges soft and sagging, your name scrawled on the side in faded, uneven marker. He wasn’t trying to pry- it was just there when he searched for a field manual in the storage room, and something about it drew him in. He brought it back to the common area where the others were gathered, setting it down on the table with a curious tilt of his head.

“Lassie never mentioned this, aye?” he asked, more to himself than to anyone else, and opened it; too curious, but also aware that if you truly did not want anyone to look through this, you would not have placed it in the storage room.

The scent of aged paper and something faintly bitter wafted out, and the pack stilled. Not because it smelled bad- it didn’t- but because something about the box immediately felt wrong; like a wound forced open.

Price was the first to step forward, instincts prickling at the edges of his senses. Ghost and Gaz followed, hovering close as Soap pulled out the first item.

At first, it was harmless. A broken doll with tangled hair, a few faded toys with their colors leeched by time, certificates bearing hollow phrases like “good effort.” Price’s eyes softened, his brow furrowing as he turned a small, threadbare ribbon over in his hand. None of it spoke of joy or pride. Instead, the items lay heavy in the box, the remnants of a childhood where love had been scarce. It wasn’t a treasure trove of cherished memories.

But then, Soap pulled out the sketchbook.

It was fragile, the cover warped and frayed, its edges curling inward as if trying to protect what lay inside. Price’s hand shot out, steadying Soap’s wrist, and he took it into his own hands. “Careful,” he warned. “Looks quite old.”

The room held its breath as Price opened it.

The first drawing made something deep in his chest rumble- a low, warning growl of distress that made the others tense.

You, as a child, stood apart from a group of faceless figures. They huddled together, faceless and warm in orange and yellow crayons, while you stood small and distant, alone in the cold blue. The faint, childish scrawl beneath it read:

“I think this is what love looks like.”

Price’s hand tightened on the book, the paper crinkling slightly under his grip. Ghost’s shoulders stiffened, and Soap let out a soft, chuffing exhale, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab something, someone, and shake them. Like he wanted to grab you, and draw you into his arms.

The next drawing was no easier.

A child stood under black clouds, the page marked with teardrops, their hands pressed to a glowing window where a family sat warm and dry inside, nestled together. You’d drawn yourself outside, drenched and shivering, a frown on your face.

“When? If I’m good, will they let me in?”

Gaz made a sound low in his throat, a soft, mournful keening that was almost drowned out by Ghost’s steady, quiet growl, while Soap hisses, his pacing steps breaking the stillness.

And then, there were the drawings of your family- your siblings, your parents- but their faces were always blank, their hands never reaching for yours. Sometimes, you drew yourself trying to smile, trying to be part of the picture, but it was always wrong. You were always smaller, always separated.

Page after page followed, each one another gut-wrenching blow. Each one a testament to your loneliness.

A little girl sat at the edge of a family dinner table, her chair slightly too far away, the space between her and the others gaping like an abyss. In another, she stood in the background of a family photo, smaller and faded, as though she didn’t belong.

“I think I’m broken.”

“They don’t want me.”

“I wish I wasn’t me.”

“Mama and papa say I will ruin the nest.”

The drawings became messier, the lines shakier, as if your younger self had pressed harder into the paper with each word, each scene, trying to make the feelings go away by burying them in the lines of graphite and crayons.

The pack’s scents filled the room, heavy and overwhelming- John’s cedarwood sharp with anger, Ghost’s smoky musk thick and oppressive, Soap’s bright citrus tinged with distress, and Gaz’s soft vanilla almost bitter with grief.

But then, at the back of the sketchbook, they found something worse than the drawings.

At the back of the book, a final drawing waited- a page filled with one stick figure: just you. Moldy green, sickly yellow and bruise-blue.

At the bottom, scrawled so faintly it was almost invisible, the words read:

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

Gaz turned away, his hand pressed against his mouth as his shoulders shook. Soap’s fists clenched, his growl low and guttural, unable to contain his restlessness. Ghost’s fingers curled into tight fists, his knuckles pale as his eyes burned with something fierce and protective.

And Price… Price’s throat bobbed as he stared at the page, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.

How could they?

At the bottom of the box, folded and tucked away like a secret, was a letter.

It was written in a child’s handwriting, shaky and full of misspellings, far younger than the last few drawings.

“Dear family, I’m sorry I’m not good. I’ll try harder. I’ll fix myself. Please love me. Please don’t leave me out. I’ll be good I promise. Love you even if you don’t love me back.”

It was dated years ago. The creases in the paper showed it had been folded and unfolded countless times, carried like a wish you couldn’t bear to let go of.

They didn’t need to ask. They knew the letter was never sent. And the silence that followed was suffocating.

When you came back that evening, you were left utterly confused by the strange atmosphere. The pack stood there, their only company a tense, heavy silence you had no idea where it came from.

Price stepped forward first, his arms wrapping around you in a hold that was both firm and trembling, and you huffed in surprise… but you didn’t pull away. His voice rumbled low and deep, a steady, grounding purr that vibrated against your chest. He didn’t say anything; he picked you up and just like that, began carrying you to the nest that you were becoming more and more familiar with everyday per their insistence.

Soap was next, once you were in the nest, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his forehead to yours, wrapping himself around you like sunshine. “Relax, bonnie lass.”

“So why-“

Gaz hugged you from behind, his soft, soothing purr blending with Price’s as he buried his face in your hair, his words drowing out your question. “You belong here. With us. Always.”

And Ghost… Ghost didn’t speak. He simply knelt in front of you, his large hands resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to your stomach. His growl was low, protective, vibrating through you like a shield against the world. And with Price joining as well, you were effectively surrounded in the nest.

That night, they pulled you into their arms and didn’t let you go. They surrounded you with their warmth, their scents, their steady, comforting presence. They rubbed their faces against your neck, your wrists, your shoulders, marking you thoroughly, their purrs and low chuffs filling the space until you couldn’t think of anything else.

Though you still wondered what brought this on. Weird pack instincts you probably wouldn’t understand, perhaps.

[yandere-wishes]

✮⋆˙Red Hood and The Big Bad Wolf ˙⋆✮

⭒⌒★ Yandere! Jason Todd x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓤 ♡ ｡ ゜

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

*ੈ✩‧₊ Thinking about how similar Red Hood is to Little Red Riding Hood, not just in name but also in practice. At their core, they are both things, red things, that survive. Reborn from the lugubre maws of death, forced to live another day, carrying baskets weaved of anguish and instability.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason keeps the old picture book tucked in his jacket pocket. He can't quite remember where he found the fickle thing. Can't remember why he chose such an evanescent tale to cling to.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly why he runs his fingers over his inside pocket after every fight, just to make sure the eccentric fable is still in place. Maybe it's because he understands Red Riding Hood. Knows what she's been through, what it feels like to have your innocence stripped like skin being torn from bones. To be killed and revived all in the same breath. Maybe it's because he wants to know what happens next. What happens when Little Red learns to breathe again? He wants to ask her, beg her to tell him. To be the solution to all his problems.

*ੈ✩‧₊ "How do you swallow the trauma? What do you do with the phantom pain of your heart's reanimation? How do you make the darkness go away? Did you come back the same?

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is only one thing that makes them differ. One fundamental little thing...

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason doesn't mind the wolf. Pretty pup prowling about. He blames it on his upbringing. He'd been taught to fall in love with such wicked things. From as early as he can remember he's watched bats chase cats across gargoyle-littered rooftops. Watched pretty girls throw themselves at bleached killers. That's why he's quick to be enarmed with the new villain terrorizing the Gotham streets. The girl in a wolf mask, planting bombs in jewelry stores and biting off her victim's ears.

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is nothing scary about the big bad wolf, Red Hood thinks, as he re-reads the page where the wolf and girl meet. Why fear pain when you've been to the end of the road? Why fear something when you're acquainted with its ending?

*ੈ✩‧₊ "Shouldn't wolves only come out when there's a full moon?" He swings in from the skyline, ironclad military boots lodging into your stomach pushing you back into a glass display case. "That's werewolves you idiot" you mumble out of breath, glass shards pocking at your spine. The ticking of your newest explosive rings melodically through the air. He's quick to cut the wires, to defuse your toy without a second thought. Professional you think bitterly as you pounce on his back looking for an opening of flesh to sink your teeth into.

*ੈ✩‧₊ The thing they don't tell you about dying is that you always come back wrong. Primordially, spiritually, the person who closes their eyes, is never the same one who opens them again.

But Red Riding Hood was lucky, her story ended before she realized that dreadful thing. Jason has to deal with it every day, the reverberating scars, the colorless world that fractures and breaks should he let his mind wander astray. The fact that his heart only ever truly beats when he sees the fluffy ears of your cowl and that damn bloodthirsty smirk.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason Todd who's only brave enough to call it love after you stake a knife through his heart. The bulletproof vest and armor keep the damage away, but he can see the murderous intent shimmering in your eyes. It's only then that he pulls you down by the back of your neck. Lips to lips, a messy clash of anathema and apprehension. Your teeth gnaw at his lips while his tongue composes ballads on the roof of your mouth.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He wonders if Little Red ever went back for the wolf. If she ever dares kiss him with all the pain and anguish she has left in her body. Nicking her tongue on his razor-sharp teeth. Guiding his claws to ghost over her frail body. He wonders if the wolf can even hurt her. There's so little left that can hurt you when you've already felt the end.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He knows you stalk him, follow him even during the day. Sometimes he pulls you into the back alleyway. Knife at your throat as he soaks up your ethereal face. Mask on, mask off. In the end, you'd have found out anyway. His hands squeeze at your hips, needing the flesh, leaving his essence over your body. His lips danced over the back of your neck, biting tenderly at the apex of your shoulder.

*ੈ✩‧₊ You seem to like it when his knife cuts deep. When his punches crack bone. When his boots crush you into the pavement. You throw your head back and laugh, witty little threats spilling from your mouth. So this is love he thinks as your claws rake over his biceps ripping the muscle like ribbons, rummaging through the blood and tissue in search of bone. "Poor little puppy" he mocks "looking for a bone to chew on". "Shut up you tomato-looking freak" you scream as his teeth sink into your jaw, crunching of bone.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He thinks you look gorgeous when you're irritated, he thinks you're beautiful when your bloodthirst seeps through the anger. He bites back a moan as your knee nests into his gut.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Did Little Red ever talk to her mother again? Or did she hold a grudge, haunted by her betrayal of sending her into the woods unarmed, heartbroken that she never came looking for her? Jason's thoughts pound inside his head, picture-book illustrations flash before him of Little Red pushing her mother away, of tears streaming down her face, screaming, screaming, screaming. He hisses as his lacerations burn. Hand suspended, pushing down the urge to knock on his father's door. Bruce would know what to do...he always knows what to do. It's such a childish notion, he clings to. Even now, even after he was killed and left un-avenged Jason still wholeheartedly believes in the notion that Daddy will fix everything...He's halfway to the entrance gate when Bruce alls after him, cadence thick with grief and ache. Jason doesn't turn back, he runs and runs and runs.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who crashes through your apartment window. Pushes you back onto the bed and lies next to you as you squirm and scream. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist and nuzzles into the crux of your neck. Mumbling Little Red Riding Hood's tale until you fall asleep. "How did You know I love the story?" you ask, the next morning to the empty half of your bed. Last night's tremulous dread still laying heavy on your corpse.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who lays on his window seal, watching as the sun pokes through Granny Red's face. It's funny isn't it, in such a twisted way didn't he also die in his grandfather's house? Only to be reborn while he watched? Didn't the same thing happen to Little Red?

*ੈ✩‧₊ That night Jason dream he's was walking through the grass, headed for the forest behind Wayne manner. He's trapped inside his jejune body, the body of a boy wonder. Clutching a basket with a crowbar inside as dread dances in his stomach. His old red cape taut around his neck, suffocating, skin-tight. He's forgotten how to breathe, puerile fear of those ghoulish old trees clawing at his body. Through the dimness, through lose rays that escape the moon's greed he's able to spot you. Weaving through the bushes and trees, stalking closer and closer. He doesn't know whether to meet you halfway or retreat. Frozen like a robin being pounced on by a sickly smiling cat. His eyes meet yours, right before you attack.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who misses you, when he doesn't catch you on patrol, of course, he misses you, it's hard not to miss a broken bone. Hard to feel the sting of your wounds and forget who put them there.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason finally realizes that he just can't bear to be away from you. This love, this mania, it's all for you. He needs you. He's got you corned, the end of a chase. You smile, all teeth and games, "You're pretty when sulk" you whisper, tracing claws up his chest, digging into the space between each ridge. "Oh really? How can you tell when I got this helmet on?" You laugh, coy and flirtish "I just do" you shrug. Pulling his helmet up, lips ghosting over his in a mockery of a kiss. Jason pushes forward, entraping your lips against his. Lost in intimacy he's quick to grab you, to drag you back to his apartment, to lock the doors and throw away the key. To keep the big bad wolf where she belongs, right next to Little Red Riding Hood.

   

🎀I feel like every Batson deserves a villainess to fall in love with. Let's call this one WolfWoman. TBH I feel like I want to write more for her in the future.

[emacrow]

The villains had been 'mildly' concerned about their fellow villain, scarecrow by emacrow/creator

He haven't been to the annual monthly meeting in 6 months after his quiet muttering that how he beat The Mistress of Fear plotting by destroying her psychology.

Only for him to stumbled a bit in the door with a heavy limp, a marriage ring that was a gem bejeweled carved in the shape of pumpkin head on his ring finger, his scarecrow pants inside out, his jacket was missing, revealing several black and orange lipsticks marks and hickies on his shoulder, his sack mask has a new decoration of a childish scribble doodles of a ghost and a stitches of a carved pumpkin with glowing emerald eyes that was the Mistress of Fear symbols on the backside with his curly hair longer then it usually was, sneaky a bit out under the sack.

He look like someone who got their soul devoured in one go during a one night stand,

He ignored the obvious stares and snickering of each and every one of the guys watching him sit in his personal seat.

"So did you found what Mistress of Fear plotted against you, Scarecrow?" Harley was the speak first, a chuckle on how Scarecrow glared sent her way, fixing his mask.

"Oh, I think he found it alright." Penguin snickered.

"Fuck, now I owe Cat lady 1000 bucks."

"S-shut up! Scarecrow growled back if he wasn't struggling with his legs so much being weak in the knees.

"I still don't believe that The Mistress of Fear married this guy when she as tall as Killer croc and he like-." Riddler emphasize the height between Mistress and Scarecrow.

"He survived the other dozen times he fought her. Hell, Joker is still in the isolated cell for extend time after what she done to him the first fight, but seeing this. I can see she pretty much destroyed the poor guy to the point of bedrest." Bane spoke quietly, which cause the roar of laughter to begin in the meeting table.

"Bet she had many treats and tricks for our poor scarecrow to be walking like baby deer like that."

....

....

....

Jonathan wanted to blow up the entire meeting with his newly tested extreme fear toxic bomb so badly, but he held his anger and embarrassed down tight, considering half the thing they were gossiping were the truth.

They didn't have a clue what he went through personally.

He could barely hold a shiver trying to rise up his back after what was his honeymoon, along with learning some deep dark secrets Lilith had in her closet after he tried to snoop into.

Her endless, glowing green otherworldly filled of the damned souls that the soulshredder hoard closet that sucked him in for what felt like eternity when it was only 5 minutes in there before he passed out from terror.

No wonder she wasn't afraid inhaling the damn fear toxic when she had a goddamn portal to hell in her bedroom.

What he got forced into marrying her was to destroy her, but he was now playing against the unknown element that Lilith was a mistress of.

He doesn't want to remember the Training schedule she set upon him, but the lessons..

Oh the lessons of learning about fear essence in souls, Jonathan was drooling like he was starving for every single word that Lilith was speaking during that entire session, not cause his heart was skipping a beat with how she grin about a certain topic in fear or how his palms drench in sweat and face burning hotter then lava watching her show him a tiny water drop size of Fear essence in her hands.

He never was sexually attracted to anyone women or man, much less desire to touch or have affection for, but at that moment seeing that sparkle of flaming interest and desire in lilith's eyes showing him that made all the blood in his head went south for the first time in ever was the most embarrassing thing in his entire life.

He was fucked.. even literally in the sense.

Previous pt 1 link<- pt 3 link here<-

[jinxificada]

unfamiliar check

adoptive sister!jinx x adoptive sister!reader

summary: eavesdropping on dad brought an unexpected bonding between sisters.

notes: nsfw ! 1,5k wc, no proofread. again, jinx and reader are not related biologically. not my best work but i stayed up till 4am to finish it…

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

“jinx.” you whisper-shout, trying to adjust your sight to the darkness of her room as you peek your head inside. she rolled over in her bed, grumbling. “are you awake?”

“what?”

“i heard something from dad’s office.”

she opened her eyes, just enough to see you approaching her and kneeling next to the bed. you were frowning.

“you’re being paranoid,” she dismissed, closing her eyes again. “he must be working.”

“i dunno… i wanna check in on him, come with me,” you insisted, shaking her shoulder softly. “please?”

jinx groaned, “fine.” she complies with an annoyed sigh, pushing herself up off the bed with a quick stretch. “let’s go.”

as you and jinx cautiously tip-toe towards silco’s office, the noises get progressively louder and more obvious. jinx approached first, her breath hitching in surprise as she pressed her ear against the door.

“no way…”

“what? what’s going on?” you urged, only to get smacked in the arm as she shushed you.

another sound emitted from the other side of the door, causing jinx to blush and grin in both amusement and disbelief.

“no fucking—“ “what is it?” you try to push her to press your ear against the door.

“keep it down! you idiot,” she pushed you against the wall, her hand on your mouth. “they’re fucking.”

your eyes widened, an instant blush spreading across your cheeks. sex? your father? it sounded ridiculous, but the faint groans proved her right.

you both squirmed, inching closer to hear better. a particularly loud moan startled you, shying your eyes away from jinx’s as she snickered.

as you listened in closely, you can vividly hear distinct sounds coming from the room; low, guttural groans, moans, pants, creaking, slapping… it felt like your ears were overheating.

“disgusting.” she scrunched up her nose, tugging at your arm as she pulled back. “c’mon.”

she takes your hand and guides your back to her room, commenting on the situation with a lighthearted demeanor. you were way too affected to respond like usual, plopping down on her bed with her.

“‘can’t believe dad was nasty like that,” she continued to laugh, just then looking over at you with a grin. “what’s up with you? i could swear it looked like you enjoyed listening to that.”

“did not.” you huffed, smacking her hand away when she tried to poke you. “it was just… too much, don’t you think so?”

“maybe if you’re a prude.” jinx said, grinning. she leaned back and put her hands behind her head, tilting her head to you, “you sure were invested though. i mean… you’re blushing like a tomato.”

your blush still hadn’t faded, and was probably even more prominent now. you tried to think of a response, but your mind was elsewhere.

“that’s not it!” you protested, but jinx only chuckled amusedly.

“eww!” jinx’s laugh rings in your ear as she rolls over the bed, you keep shushing her but she’s having way too much fun. “are you seriously turned on?”

a laugh escapes your lips, sounding embarrassed but infected by her amusement. a light shove on her side starts a playful wrestling fight. the already messy blankets tangle up with your legs, immobilizing you and easing her the win. she effortlessly pinned your hands together over your head with only one of hers, the other suddenly moving down to your lower waist.

“be honest,” she purred, her touch tantalizing and exploring as she lowered to grip your hip. “are you wet?”

the change in the air caught you off guard, your smile wavered noticeably as you try to make sense of the sudden flirtatious tone and the obscenity of her words.

“w-wet? of course not—!” you argued with a weak, slightly trembling voice.

“really? then you don’t mind it if i check?” she smirked.

“g-go ahead, i’m not wet.“ you said, but your voice cracked when jinx’s hand slipped below the waistband of your pajama shorts.

you gasped at the light touch, arching your back involuntarily, consequently pressing yourself against her palm for a quick moment before flinching.

your little reaction didn’t slip past jinx, and she smirked again.

“for someone who ‘isn’t turned on’… you’re getting awfully squirmy.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but when her hand moved down lower, you couldn’t hold back a small moan.

“w-wait, n-“ you tried to speak, but your mind was starting to go blank.

her slender fingers work under your clothes, teasing your throbbing clit with slow circles. you were wet, jinx could feel it. you shut your eyes firmly and bit your lower lip, holding back from grinding against her touch.

your efforts to keep from squirming and moaning were getting more and more difficult.

“look at you,” jinx teased, “so worked up by just a couple minutes of eavesdropping… i’m not even moving that fast.”

her fingers continued their slow, torturous pace, and your body was quickly overheating. you started to fidget, your legs shifting to get some much needed friction, parting them for her.

“jinx, stop—“ you tried to protest, but the syllables were quickly becoming moans and whimpers. your words were laced with arousal even though you were trying to ground yourself. you clearly weren’t doing a good job, soon your body following the pace jinx was setting.

low sighs and curses left your mouth only to be eaten up by jinx, your breaths mingling together for a while now. she kept teasing you, hoping you would break and ask for more.

“god, you’re so sensitive.” she whispered, her voice sultry.

your conflicting feelings were dissolved the second she nipped your lip, hardly enough to make you wince as she pulled it a few inches away. it was almost automatic, the way your tongue stuck out and received hers without a second thought. her tongue was hot like fire as it explored every nook and cranny of your mouth.

your inhibitions lowered so abruptly, in a moment later you were whining for her to touch you properly.

“ya like that, toots?��� she hummed, returning to cup your pussy but with a firmer grip, making you exhale harshly. “i can feel how bad you want it.”

“y-yes, i want it.” you broke, squirming under her weight. “please, hurry.”

“hmm…” jinx pushed down your clothes, tugging playfully at your pubic hair and chuckling under her breath when you hissed: “asshole.”

she gathered your moisture, brushing upwards to repeat her movements now against your bare pussy. she entertains herself by changing the pace just when you’re growing used to it, going from light, long strokes to rapid and hard rubbing.

“fuck—!” you almost growled, frowning deeply at her. “stop teasing, jinx.”

she hummed pleasantly at the way you say her name, trying so hard to sound firm despite the wavering voice. her teeth find your throat as she pushed a finger in, you shudder at the new sensation, mewling softly and tilting your head back.

“say my name,” she suddenly pleaded, her breath hot against your skin. you comply, breathlessly repeating her name once, twice. “again~” she giggled, adding a second finger.

her fingers buried inside of you, pumping hard enough to push your whole body. the bed cracked, another reason to blush.

were you two too loud? could your father hear you like you heard him?

you couldn’t bring yourself to care. your sister was fucking you like she’s been wanting to for ages. the thrill of being caught made your head spin.

a soft splashing sound of your fluids echoed in jinx’s room, she moaned with you, smiling contently and making sweet remarks about how well you were taking her and how hot you sounded. you started to tear up at some point, feeling so close.

she was hitting your sweet spot, she had let go of your hands to keep your hips still. now you were free to cling onto her, gripping her hair and pulling her into a bruising kiss.

“m’close,” you cried into her lips, a smile gracing them at your words.

“i know you are,” she said hoarsely, her fingers moving faster. “and it’s all me.”

you can practically feel the pride in her tone, she’s enjoying knowing that she’s the one causing this. her fingers press into you relentlessly, and her hand grips your hip a little harder.

“come on,” she muttered against your ear. “come for me.”

it’s a blur, she has to press her palm on your mouth to shut you up. though her excited chuckles might’ve been equally loud. she keeps fucking you through your high, finalizing with a soft smack on your pussy.

you giggle, too, twitching for a long minute as your body processes the orgasm. she still kisses you, lips, jaw, cheeks, she smooches your face with a happy grin.

she’s looked at you like this before, eyes glowing with admiration, devotion… yearning.

it almost makes you forget the reality of your relationship.

[insidekatmind]

A Rainy Night and a Game of Truth or Dare~ Jadon Sancho

Request: yes!

The storm outside howled as rain lashed against the windows of Sancho's house. Inside, the living room was warm and filled with laughter, snacks scattered across the coffee table, and a group of friends gathered in a circle on the floor.

Someone — probably Noni, with his wild ideas — had suggested they play Truth or Dare to spice up the night. The game had been harmless fun at first, with silly dares and embarrassing truths. But things took an unexpected turn when someone pulled out a bottle to make the dares more interesting.

Sancho's friend, Cole, spun the bottle with a mischievous grin. It whirled and twirled, capturing everyone's attention until it finally slowed… and stopped.

It pointed directly at you and Sancho.

A chorus of gasps and giggles erupted from the group.

"Alright, here’s the dare," Cole announced, her eyes gleaming. "You two… ten minutes in the closet. Together."

Sancho immediately shot up from his spot on the floor. "Nah, am I seriously going to have to stay here with her?"

His friends laughed, blocking his escape. Noni stepped in front of the door, arms spread wide. "Oh no, Sancho. Rules are rules. You know that!"

"But this is stupid!" Sancho groaned. He turned toward you, as if seeking an ally. But you just shrugged, amused by how desperate he looked.

"Come on, Sancho," Cole tased. "What’s the worst that could happen? It’s only ten minutes."

Realizing he had no way out, Sancho sighed heavily and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Fine."

His friends cheered as they opened the closet door. Sancho stepped inside reluctantly, and you followed. The door closed behind you with a soft click, cutting off the laughter from outside.

The closet was dark and cramped, filled with the scent of cedar wood and faint traces of cologne from Sancho’s jackets. He leaned against one wall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"So… what do we do now?" he mumbled.

You shrugged again, leaning back against the opposite wall. "I don’t know. You’re the one who wanted to leave so badly. Why don’t you come up with something?"

He rolls his eyes, sighing and trying to think of something to do* "I’m bored." Sancho mumbled, looking around and then back at you.

"Isn’t there something we can do to get the time to go faster?" he crosses his arms again, looking away from you and looking at the ceiling

"What do you want to do?"

Sancho looks back at you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking at you with a sarcastic smile on his face

"What do you think I want to do?" He looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, I'm not in your brain" you say sarcastically

Jadon chuckles, still looking at you, his eyes on you as he takes a step towards you and slowly starts approaching you, looking at you smugly

"You don’t even have a hint of what I want?"

He continued to approach you, getting closer and closer

he smirks, now right in front of you, so close that your bodies are almost touching. He continues to smirk, looking down at you and leaning in a bit closer

"I think you should." he responds, still with the same smirk.

the smirk was still on his face as he leaned even closer to you, until he’s almost pinning you to the wall. He looked you up and down, still with his smirk, his body almost on yours

"Don’t you even have a guess?" He asks again, his smirk still on his face

"should I?" you tease him. Jadon lets out a laugh, his smirk widening, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes and leaning in ever closer, so close that one of his hands reaches out, gently holding onto your waist

"You’re very good at teasing, aren’t you?"

He lets out a laugh, his smirk widening, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes and leaning in ever closer, so close that one of his hands reaches out, gently holding onto your waist*

"You’re very good at teasing, aren’t you?"

"maybe" you look at him amused. Jadonlaughs, looking you up and down again and then back at your eyes, a slight smirk still on his face and one of his hands still on your waist

"You are definitely very good at teasing, princess." he says amusedly.

Jadon slowly, very slowly, began to start closing the distance between your bodies, pressing himself a bit more against you, both of his hands on your waist now

"You know, you look very cute when you tease me like that." you get closer to him

Jadon laughs again, his smirk widening as he feels your body against his. He looks down at you, his hands on your hips, pushing himself against you, his body flush against yours

"You’re cute, you know that?" He says amused

Jadon looks down at you, his smirk turning into a slight, soft smile, his hands still on your hips and his body pushed against you.

"You’re adorable, princess." he responds, his voice slightly quieter now, looking at your face and his eyes traveling down.

His hands slowly start to move up your body, from your hips to your back, his eyes following them as they go up.

"You know, we still have a few minutes left."

"So why don't we make the most of them?" .he laughs, looking at you with a sly smirk, his eyebrows raised. He leans in, his face getting closer to yours, his hands moving to your hips again, gently gripping them

"Oh, I like the sound of that."

Jadon laughs, looking at you with a sly smirk, his eyebrows raised. He leans in, his face getting closer to yours, his hands moving to your hips again, gently gripping them

"Oh, I like the sound of that." He moves closer to your face, his nose almost touching yours, his lips close to your ear. He whispers in your ear softly

"How about we make these last few minutes the most interesting minutes of this game? He laughs softly

"I'd be happy" you whisper. Sancho responds by getting even closer to your face, his nose almost touching yours. He chuckles, his eyes darting down to your lips before going back to your eyes, a smirk on his face

"Do you think you can handle that, princess?" "Try me"

Jadon laughs again, amused by your response. He looks at you with a smile on his face, a bit of a challenge on his eyes.

"You’re playing with fire, princess." He says quietly. He moves his hands to your hips again, gripping them, his face still close to yours, his lips just inches away, his smirk growing

"You’re being bold, princess. Am I rubbing off on you?"

"go on" you whisper. He lets out a laugh, amused by your response and your boldness. He moves a bit closer towards you, closing what little distance is left between your bodies and gently gripping your hips, his face now only inches away from yours

"Oh, I think I definitely am rubbing off on you, princess."

Jadon moves one of his hands up to your face, gently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and his other hand still on your hip. He looks down at you, his smirk ever so slightly growing

"You know, I kind of like this bold version of you, princess."

you look at him mischievously and stroke his hair. Jadon lets out a low chuckle, amused by the feeling of you stroking his hair. He leans in a bit more, his lips just a few millimeters away from yours

"Are you getting cocky all of a sudden?" he asks, his smirk still ever-present.

smile and kiss him. He freezes for a second as you kiss him, surprised by your boldness for a moment, but he immediately kisses you back, his hands moving from your hips to your face, gently cupping your face as he kisses you back.

Jadon pulls away, breaking the kiss for a moment so that he can look at your face, a smile on his face, his hands still on your face, gently cupping it

"You're being very daring today, princess." He says, his voice low and soft.

"and you like this" you say mischievously. He laughs, looking at you and still with a bit of a smirk

"Oh yeah, I definitely like this new you." he moves his hands from your face back to your hips, gently gripping them again.

Jadon laughs, looking at you and still with a bit of a smirk"Oh yeah, I definitely like this new you."

He moves his hands from your face back to your hips, gently gripping them again.

"I could say the same thing" you whisper and suck his bottom lip. Jadon lets out a low chuckle, amused by your response, but still trying to maintain his demeanor. A slight shiver runs through his body as you gently suck on his bottom lip, the sensation sending a pleasant feeling through him

"Careful, princess. You're really getting bold."

smile and kiss his jaw. He shivers slightly as you kiss his jaw, the feeling of your lips on his skin sending a bolt of electricity through him. He closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them again to look at you.

"You’re making this really difficult for me to be this whole nonchalant, arrogant thing, you know that?"

Jadon lets out a laugh, trying to maintain his smirk while at the same time trying to hide the effect you’re having on him, his hands gripping your hips a bit tighter

"You don’t realize how hard you’re making it for me to keep up the whole ‘sarcastic, nonchalant’ act. You’re making it really difficult for me to not just-“

He breaks off mid sentence, cutting himself off before he said something incriminating

"just?" you whisper seductively. Jadon freezes for a second again as you say that, a shiver running through his body at the tone of your voice. He pauses for a moment before answering, a hint of a smirk on his face

"Just shut you up. In the best way possible." he responds jokingly, his tone clearly masking a bit of desire.

You look at him seductively and move closer to him "I don't think so".

He laughs softly, clearly noticing that you’re trying to get a reaction from him. He looks at you with a smirk, his eyes running over your face

"Don’t you? You should be careful, princess. You’re making this really hard for me to control myself around you."

Jadon looks at you for a moment, his eyes looking down at your face before gently gripping your hips, pulling you a bit closer to him. He looks at you, his eyes holding something like a challenge in them

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?” he mutters looking at you

"Yes" you respond with a little smile

He lets out a soft laugh, his eyes still looking into yours. The look on his face is a mix of amusement and a bit of frustration, his hands still on your hips

"You’re doing a damn good job at it. And you know exactly what you’re doing too, don’t you princess?"

Jadon moves a little closer to you again, his body almost flush against yours, his hands gripping your hips a bit tighter

"You’re really testing my limits, princess. You’re really pushing it.”

you smile and kiss his jaw "time is running out"

Jadon shivers a bit as you kiss his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again to look at you. There’s a mixture of desire and irritation in his eyes, and he lets out a slight laugh

"Oh, you’re just trying to provoke me at this point, aren’t you? Teasing me and pushing my buttons."

You go down to his neck and kiss him .

Jadon closes his eyes again as you move to his neck, your lips on his skin sending a jolt through him, a low, almost involuntary moan escaping his lips, which he quickly tries to cover up but fails

"You’re making this hard. So damn hard. You know that, don’t you? You know what you’re doing to me.”

"maybe" you tease him and give him a hickey. Time's up and you're out of the closet

Jadon lets out a soft curse as you give him a hickey, shutting his eyes for a moment and letting out a soft, very quiet, moan. He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with a look that looks a bit like a combination of irritation and desire*

"Damn it, princess. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep that up."

He lets out a frustrated but amused laugh, running his hand through his hair and looking at you with an expression of slight anger but clear desire in his eyes, frustrated and a bit annoyed that you got the best of him

"Yeah, the game is over. You’re going to be the death of me, you know that princess?"

You came out of the closet and your friends Noni and Cole they were watching you. Sancho follows you out of the closet, coming face to face with Noni and Cole, who are both looking between the two of you, a very clear look of amusement on both of their faces.

He tries to maintain his demeanor, his usual cocky and nonchalant expression crossing his face, but it’s clear that he’s a bit worked up. HIs friends are clearly enjoying this, giving him looks that say ‘nice job, dude.’ Noni looks at you and then looks at him, her expression screaming the words ‘oh, you’re so screwed.’ Cole looks amused, and gives the two of you a look that clearly says ‘oooooh, trouble.’

Sancho tries to play it off, rolling his eyes and giving them a look that says ‘knock it off.’ The two of them continue to look very amused, Noni laughing quietly to herself, and Cole giving him a smirk

[y2kas13]

Can She Stay? (Paige B. x reader)

Paige b. x dads best friend's daughter!reader

Summary: Paige goes with her dad to his best friend's house meets his daughter and quickly becomes close.

cw: fluff, rizzler paige lol, spicy but no smut, reader isn't given a set race or weight just mentions of curly hair and being on the 'thicker side' but nothing too defining y/n used srry

a/n: (I wrote this months ago and never knew how to finish so I’m gonna post it how it is if you wnat a continuation I definitely will) I'm actually from and live in CT so I'm gonna use the name of a college from here for realism its not important tho so don't worry lol thank you for tuning in to my poll for those who interacted this is technically my 2nd fic on Tumblr but my other one sucked and flopped 😭 so hopefully this is better. I appreciate interaction!

Paige was a go-getter, constantly up and running ready to take on the day and do what needed to be done.

Needless to say, she didn't want to get out of bed and go with her dad to sit around and listen to old dad jokes for the next few hours.

She loves her dad, but after weeks of training and hard work, she wants to mindlessly scroll on her phone and eat some well-deserved junk food.

"Come on Paige it'll be fun I promise it'll be worth your while. watch you'll have so much fun you won't wanna leave! now come on Paige!" Hearing her dad have so much enthusiasm trumps her feelings of wanting to stay home. She changes out of her pajamas into black loose-fitting sweatpants and a white crop-top she puts her slides on and gets in her dad's car and falls asleep.

Feeling the car come to a stop makes her open her eyes and see that they are presumably at her dad's friend's house. She rubs her eyes and stretches to wake her up. She hops out of the car and walks up to the door after her dad.

Before her dad can even finish knocking a man who looks the same age as her dad opens the door. "Bob! there you are old timer hurry up the game is coming on." He ushers them in and both Paige and her dad hurry inside.

Paige takes in the living room while her dad and his friend playfully banter with each other. Before Paige can open her mouth to say anything she hears soft footsteps coming toward the living room which causes her to look up.

"Dad, what's all that noise?"

Paige sees probably one of the prettiest girls she's seen in a while. Beautiful curly hair held out of her face by a simple headband, she's wearing a simple blue crop top similar to her own and the smallest pair of black pajama shorts she's seen in forever.

The feeling of the girl's eyes also looking her up and down causes Paige to finally stop staring and look away. "Come here baby let me introduce you!" The pretty girl steps further into the living room to stand by both dads which causes Paige to follow without even thinking. The girls' dads introduce them to each other, "This is my daughter Paigey she plays basketball at UConn she's a little star." Bob says with obvious pride in his voice which causes Paige to slightly blush and look down waving him away playfully at the nickname. This elicits a small giggle out of the girl which makes Paige smile a little harder and look up at the girl seeing that she's already looking at Paige. "This is my baby she goes to Southern and she's the student council president at her school." Pride is also evident in his words, the baby name makes the girl turn away in slight embarrassment.

The TV in the living room starts playing a loud sound alerting the dads that the game they were awaiting is finally starting so they offer that the girls should go hang out together in the girl's room. They head towards the girl's room.

"So baby huh?" Paige says with a small smirk on her lips, the name used making her laugh.

"Oh whatever Paigey," The girl rolls her eyes playfully and sits on her bed, "I have a real name you know." Paige looks around the room taking in the aesthetically pleasing room with light grey walls dark hardwood floors and posters of all her favorite shows and artists on her wall.

Paige sits down at the small dark wooded vanity now looking at the girl perched on the bed, "Care to share then princess?" the nickname princess causes the girl to spring up and look at the blonde girl at her vanity

She shares her name with Paige to which Paige compliments.

“So student council president huh? You’re a smart girl aren’t you.” Paige says with a smirk but there’s no condensation or malice in it.

The curly haired girl nods making her curls bounce and flop in her face slightly. “Yep school has always been my thing I’ve been best at.”

Paige gets up from her vanity and walk over to the bed. She looks the curly haired girl in the eyes and moves some of the hair that fell in her face. “Maybe you should come by my school and see me do what I’m best at.”

[yjhariani]

Ghost X gn!reader (CoD X SCP)

You're an MTF soldier. They had to give you amnestics, but it went wrong and made you forget ever meeting your significant other. Was it actually just an accident or was there something more? (no promise of making this a series, but I'm trying).

Angst but not really.

Once Simon got the call, he knew something bad happened.

It was not your number. It was not your voice that called from the other side. Being in roughly the same field as you, he knew what this call meant.

Bad news.

Even though Simon personally had never made this kind of call before, he had been there a few times when his colleagues had to. Price dominantly.

All the calls were the result of one specific event. Death of a soldier.

So, Simon did not even let the caller finish their first sentence. He cut them off with a simple, “I’ll be there,” before hanging up.

Simon considered putting on his uniform, but he realised that where you work, everything was classified. It would be no use hiding himself because they knew who everybody was anyway. He was especially attached to you and he knew that meant the place you worked at probably knew what he ate for breakfast better than he himself did.

Once arriving at your base, Simon was not even surprised that one mention of your name got him rushed straight to the base hospital.

As of now, Simon had not decided what to feel. He just kept walking, following this person who took him to the dark part of the hospital. However, he accepted that he felt the slight confusion tugging at his mind when they continued walking pass instead of walking into the morgue.

Even so, Simon kept his words behind his tongue.

Soon, they reached a thick, barred, metal double door with two securities standing in front of them. The person leading their way only mentioned your name before the security officers—if that was what they were—unbarred the door and opened it.

Simon’s guide turned to face him and quietly, as if they were not supposed to make a noise here, said, “I don’t have clearance for this level, but you will see your partner’s Team Leader.”

With an understanding nod, Simon walked through the door into a short, dim-lit tunnel. At the end of it, a twin hospital door stood. From here, it looked like a regular hospital, only it was placed underground and had barely anyone inside.

Inside, stood awaiting, a soldier still in field uniform. She looked quite messy. It made Simon wonder if he had looked that messy when something this horrible happened to him in the field. Whatever this something was.

Seeing Simon, that older woman walked up to him and nodded, rubbing her hands nervously.

“Ghost,” she greeted. “Or do you prefer Lieutenant Riley?”

Outside his uniform? Both sounded bad. Simon was here for you. He could not care less what people address him with.

“Are they in one piece?” Simon asked right away.

Just after saying the question, it registered in Simon’s mind that he had been thinking that it must have been so bad that they had to bring him into this super-secure underground hospital just to ID you.

Connecting the dots, the woman scrunched her eyebrows as her head tilted slightly to the side.

“They’re not dead,” she said. “I tried to tell you in the call, but you didn’t seem to be taking any explanation.”

They’re not dead, Simon repeated in his head. A bleed of warmth grew in his chest.

“However,” the woman continued, “on our mission, something terrible has happened. Out of the five of us, only your partner and I made it out.”

Simon did not react. He did not say anything. He did not move a muscle.

“Your partner… needed amnestics administered in their system. We did—uh… we were in the middle of administering the amnestics when,” the woman took a deep breath and sighed, “we had a breach in the facility.”

There came a halt as the woman flipped through the words in her mind.

“We successfully administered the amnestics,” the woman stated. “Just… not the correct one.”

This time, a spasm came about Simon's forehead.

“Usually, we don’t share this detail, but your partner is very important to us and we respect them, so we are telling you this,” she paused before continuing, “What we initially intended to modify was the events of the last two days, but… with the breach happening, everything went, uh… out of our hands. Your partner has lost… the memory of all that happened in the past two years.”

It took a moment to sink in Simon’s head. Once it did, all he thought about was that he met you a little bit less than two years ago.

Simon was just about to meet the 141 at a pub when the whole area was suddenly secured. There were soldiers from the Foundations all over the place and they clocked them instantly. They asked for their assistance on a job that Simon did not have the memory of any more. One of the Foundations’ soldiers he worked with was you.

It was not the worst of missions that the 141 was able to not get amnestic administered—at least that they knew of. So, that meant Simon got to keep your memory. The two of you had not stopped talking since.

The thought of having himself removed from your memory at once made warmth that bled in Simon’s chest froze in an instant.

“I know how much they mean to you and we can offer to have you—”

Knowing what she wanted to say, Simon immediately cut her off with, “Where are they?”

With so, the woman led Simon to a room. She opened the door for him, but did not step in.

Stepping in with a heavy heart, Simon eventually saw you. You were sitting on the hospital bed, an IV plugged into the back of your hand, and several recent injuries were painted on you.

In your hands, Simon saw a familiar white envelope. Then, he saw that you finally looked at him. No smile. No recognition.

“Are you Simon?” you asked.

“I am,” was all that Simon managed to say.

“They told me,” you nodded before lightly waving the envelope in your hands. “Two weeks to go, huh? Guess you’d want to call off the wedding?”

Bullets in his flesh felt like nothing compared to what Simon just heard coming out of your mouth.

Stepping closer, Simon exhaled. He glanced at the wedding invitation in your hand, seeing that it was addressed to ORCA. You said it was your Team Leader, who Simon guessed was also the one to give you that invitation. The woman who Simon just saw.

“If you want to call it off, we call it off,” Simon did not even believe he said that, but refused to show that.

“You sound like you don't want to?” you asked.

Simon looked at you, lightly raising an eyebrow.

“I mean… I don’t know who you are,” you said. “I think?”

For a while, Simon only looked at you. What you had on your face was not your lying face. It was not a joke. It was real. You did not remember him at all.

There came the moment when the two of you said nothing, hardly looking at each other. Then, you stretched an arm out to the side table and lifted your phone.

“I read our texts, saw our pictures,” you said. “You seemed to be my everything.”

If he could, Simon would punch something so hard right now.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly said once seeing how Simon’s subtle reactions were. “I… I’m just trying to figure things out.”

“‘s all right,” Simon nodded, understanding.

You tried a thin, apologetic smile.

“Must be hard for you,” you said.

Another long pause came in between you both.

“Do you want to hug me?” you offered, arms lightly opened.

Usually, you did not even have to ask and Simon would just come right at you. However, it took a lot for Simon to hold himself back when you saw him as a stranger.

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” you cut him off. “Maybe it’ll feel familiar, I don’t know. If you want to.”

After a moment of consideration, Simon carefully approached you. Even though he moved slowly and with care, once the two of you got close enough, you attached yourselves to each other like magnets. Your arms lightly wrapped around each other before, as if there was a whirlpool in between you that pulled your cores, your arms tightened around each other.

The only reason Simon released you was because you let out a slightly uncomfortable exhale.

“Apologies,” Simon said, thinking he might have hugged you too tightly.

“No, it’s alright,” you replied.

Another moment passed with the two of you just looking at each other. It was apparent that you were studying him.

“At some point I’m going to have to be released from here,” you brought up. “Can I go home with you?”

“Sure you’re alright with that?” Simon asked.

“Are you?” you asked back.

Simon almost said ‘Totally!’ but then, he kept getting reminded that he was just a stranger to you and he was not always good with that type of relationship. Strangers tended to see him and avoided him, praying to never make eye contact with him.

However, you seemed genuine. He still saw the kindness and the shimmer in your eyes even though it was different from how you looked at him last–two weeks ago.

So, Simon said, “Yeah.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” you added eagerly. “If you don’t have the space, I don’t–”

“We just bought a house,” Simon almost excitedly replied.

“Oh,” you responded.

“We,” Simon hesitated to continue, “we adopted this devilish cat not long ago and he already pissed on everything.”

For the first time after Simon saw you laugh a couple of weeks ago, he saw you letting out a chuckle. For a second, Simon almost forgot that something bad had happened to you.

“I can help you clean up if you let me stay in your house,” Simon almost did not hear you say.

Our house, Simon wanted to say, but refused to.

“So… can I?” you asked.

“Already said yes,” Simon reminded.

“Okay,” you nodded.

No words were exchanged for some time after that.

“Are you staying here long? I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little,” you said.

Simon let a small smile bloom on his face.

“You said that once,” Simon said, pulling a chair before he sat on it next to your bed.

[bapeach]

My nerd

I'm still new to writing so if this is bad then I'm sorry, lol. English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for any possible grammar mistakes :). Let me know what you guys think!

Pairing(s): Nika Mühl x female!reader Word count: 2.3k+ Summary: Turns out the intimidating giant is actually a big nerd. Something Nika will never let Y/N forget. ------------

When you first got to Uconn, everyone was pretty intimidated by you. Not entirely surprising, you supposed. Even in a gym full of basketball players, you rose above them, standing at a whopping 6'7". It didn't help that you had dark eyes that seemed to always peer into the soul of the person you were looking at. Nor did it help that both of your arms were fully tatted up and that you had a resting frown on your face. You couldn't help it, your face always looked like you were trying to solve a hard math question or trying to figure out everyone's biggest secret. You didn't exactly mind being intimidating though, often standing with your arms crossed, slightly flexing your muscles. And God did you have muscles. When Paige first saw you, the first thing going through her mind was how you could easily snap her in two.

To everyone's surprise you weren't that scary once they got to know you. Sure, you still had the ability to make anyone shut up with a single well-aimed look that seemed to say “knock it off”. And yeah, you were still able to halt everyone's conversation, eyes focused only on you, when you had something important to say. But the team also got to know the real you. When needed, you could match KK's high energy, being able to hype up the entire team with a few witty jokes, cocky smirks, and well-timed speeches. The team needed a calmer presence? Then there you were, matching Azzi's comforting calmness, being a rock to lean on and a shoulder to cry on. 

The team knew you almost inside and out, just like you knew all of them. From KK's favorite ice cream flavor to Nika's favorite Croatian show. You guys didn't feel the need to keep secrets. You suppose that's why you all work so well together, both on the court and off. Except the team didn't fully know you, did they? 

You were known for your fierce protectiveness of the team, always ready to defend them, no matter what. You exuded an intense aura that scared off anyone trying to mess with you or your family and friends. But below all of that…? You were a nerd. 

You know there's nothing wrong with being a nerd, but still, you prefer to be known for your strength and resilience. So no, the team doesn't know you can solve a Rubik's cube with your eyes closed (It's not that hard once you know the patterns, you swear), they don't know you like playing chess (What? It's calming...) or that you're secretly a huge sci-fi fan (C'mon, Star Wars and Doctor Who are classics!). Hell, they didn't even know you wore glasses... 

You knew there was nothing wrong with glasses either, you personally even found them quite attractive on other people, but you chose to only wear them in the comfort of your own dorm. You were lucky to have scored a single dorm, not having to deal with any annoying roommates doing god knows what. The team hadn't even seen the inside of the apartment, all of you always hanging out in one of the bigger dorms, having to be able to comfortably fit an entire basketball team in there. Some teammates had caught small glimpses into the living area of your home away from home, but there wasn't much to note about it. It was your room that had all your geek stuff. 

An entire wall lined with books, ranging from the classics to the newest YA sapphic novels. Your  Rubik’s cubes in different shapes and sizes scattered amongst them. A couple of Lego sets standing proudly on the few available surfaces. And amidst it, there you were, sitting on your bed at 2 AM, wearing an old Doctor Who shirt, glasses perched on your nose as you watched your favorite doctor on his latest adventure. The Hedwig the owl plushie that you got as a birthday present years ago (which you swore you only still kept to keep your mom happy) sitting next to you, tucked in but still in view of the screen (she wanted to watch as well, okay?). 

When the team had suggested going to a bar after an intense practice, you’d hesitated. On one hand you wanted to go. You weren’t really the party and drinking type, but you always felt better knowing you were with the girls, being able to keep an eye on them. On the other hand your bones felt heavy from practice and your bed was calling your name. Declining their invitation, you figured you wouldn’t be hearing from the girls until late the next day, having them complain about being hungover in the group chat. Turns out you were wrong.

Hearing a knock on your door, you paused your show, listening intently to see if you were just imagining things. Hearing another knock and loud giggles outside, followed by someone shushing, you walked over to your door. Not paying any mind to what you were wearing, you opened the door, confusion clear on your face as well as worry. Because the only people who’d be knocking on your door in the middle of the night would be the girls, and that meant they needed something that couldn’t wait until the morning.

Looking down slightly, you see an apologetic-looking Azzi holding a giggling Nika under one arm while trying to make sure Paige (who was mumbling some type of nonsense about flying snakes playing basketball?) didn’t fall over beside her. “Hey, I’m really sorry to be knocking on your door, Y/N, but these two idiots-” ”HEY!” “-decided to drink too much, and I can’t handle both of them, especially not together.” Azzi apologizes, sending Paige a stern look when she interrupts her. Azzi looks at you, guilt clear in her eyes, knowing that you’re gonna be dealing with a drunk Nika who will undoubtedly tease the hell out of you once she realizes what you’re wearing. 

Nika, who only just seems to have realized she’s standing in front of your door (the girl she might or might not have a huge tiny crush on), grins widely, slipping out from underneath Azzi’s arm, right into yours. Squeezing the taller girl tightly, she mumbles (though it feels more like a shout in your ear), “Hey Y/N/N!”. Wincing slightly at the loudness, you hold Nika in your arms, mumbling a “Hi” before focusing back on Azzi. “Don’t worry about it, Azz, I’ve got her.” you say smiling at her, trying to make sure she knows you’re not upset. “Have a good night and good luck with…” you trail off, looking at Paige in confusion as she stumbles away from Azzi to go talk to the wall about… crocodiles riding skateboards? You give the sober girl one last grin before sending both of them a wave and pulling Nika into your dorm.

Looking down at her, you shake your head slightly. This is gonna be a challenge. Drunk Nika means a lot of cockiness, a lot of teasing, and a lot of flirting… “C’mon, Niks, let’s get you ready for bed.” you say softly, hoping your calming tone will make the Croatian girl relax and comply. Grabbing hold of her hand, you turn to your bedroom, but she doesn’t let you get very far. “Nooo,” she grumbles, her accent coming out slightly as she slurs her words. Pulling you into another hug with a bit more force than expected, she falls right into you, “I missed you tonight.”. 

You hold the shorter girl closer to your chest, knowing things will go easier if you just follow along with what she’s doing. (And okay, maybe you’d missed her too, but how could you not? Nika was smart, funny, fearless, kind, extremely beautiful, and exactly your type. Not that any of that mattered. You were pretty sure she was straight. Sure, she flirted with you and complimented you all the time, but that’s just the kind of friend she is.). Putting your face into the crook of her neck, you can’t help inhaling her scent. She smells like alcohol and sweat from dancing, but there’s also a hint of something else. A scent that’s unique to her. It’s soft and comforting, and it makes you wish you could just hold her close to you forever.

“I missed you too,” you say, pulling back and giving her a kiss on the forehead, “let’s go to my room now, yeah?”. You walk into your bedroom, guiding Nika’s hips as you push her to your bed, before going to close your door. “Wait… are you wearing glasses?” she says, looking at you in shock. You grin at her, shaking your head at how cute she looks. (How did it take her this long to notice?). “Shuddup” you say with a tiny smirk on your face as you walk back over. “No no, you look really hot.” she says leaning in a bit closer to look at your properly. “Like a hot nerd.” she starts laughing to herself. You playfully roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement immediately catches Nika’s eye, her laugh coming to a stop as she stares at your muscular arms. Your smirk grows, seeing the way the brunette can’t stop gawking at you. (And okay, maybe you flexed your muscles a bit more, liking the way she was looking at you, but you were allowed to have a bit of fun, weren’t you?).

As Nika’s eyes roam your figure, her eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing. “Wait, what are you wearing?” she questioned, her eyes wide as a grin starts forming on her face. Damn it, here we go. Moving towards your closet, you ask, “What do you wanna sleep in? Shorts? Sweats? Do you want a hoodie or just a shirt?”, hoping she’ll be drunk enough to have a shortened attention span. Your wishes, however, don’t get answered. “Oh my god…” she gasps, making you turn around, slightly alarmed at her sudden outburst. “You’re a nerd!” she exclaimed, looking around and seeing all your geeky knick-knacks. 

When Azzi came knocking on your door with a drunk Nika under her arm, you happily took the wasted girl in. Now though? Now you were thinking of all the ways Azzi could make it up to you. 

You throw the smirking girl a pair of shorts and a shirt, successfully managing to have them hit her right in the face. You walk over to her, ready to help her get changed. “You tell anyone about this, Mühl, and you’re dead.” you reply, knowing you’ll be teased relentlessly next practice, Nika not being able to keep something like this quiet. “All this time everyone has seen you as this tough, badass woman,” the brunette starts, her voice sounding muffled as you help her pull off her shirt, “but you’re actually just a dork!”. You can’t find it in yourself to feel annoyed at her teasing. After all, this was Nika, your crush best friend, the girl that could do no harm in your eyes. 

She continues on rambling as you finish getting her ready for bed. Giggling to herself, the still very tipsy girl plops down on your bed, grabbing hold of your Hedwig plush, wiggling it in your face. You sigh softly with a small smile. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” you laugh. “Nope.” she giggled. “But for what it’s worth… it’s pretty cute… you’re pretty cute.” she mumbles, looking down as a blush forms on her cheeks.

“Yeah?” you muttered, taking a step closer to her, moving a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” she replies, looking back up into your eyes. While you and Nika flirt with each other all the time, this time feels different. More real. 

You notice how her eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you let yourself daydream about how it would feel to press your lips against hers. When the shorter girl leans in, you take a small step back, feeling your heart break a little as a frown forms on her face. “We can’t, Niks” you whisper, taking a step closer again as you grab her hand and give it a light squeeze. “Why not?” she pouts. “Because you’re drunk, and I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” you answer with a small smile, hoping to soothe her. “I wouldn’t regret it!” she shakes her head with her brows furrowed, “I’ve liked you for ages now, but you’re such an oblivious idiot sometimes!”. 

You open your mouth to reply but close it again, thinking back on your whole friendship with the girl. Maybe all that flirting wasn’t just a joke… Okay yeah, maybe you were an idiot. You grab her face between your hands, leaning in a little to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry.” you mutter, lips still pressed against the Croatian’s skin. You pull back slightly, seeing her start smiling again, cheeks a beautiful rose color. “Tomorrow,” you promise her, “if you still want this tomorrow, then I swear I will take you on the best date of your life.”. She smiles a big, toothy grin, “Deal Y/L.” You grin back, pulling her over to your bed, already thinking about where you’re gonna be taking her. 

As you both lay face to face, you can’t help but admire her. Her long, beautiful lashes, her pink lips, her cute nose… You think you might be the luckiest girl in the world. 

Nika sighs contently, closing her eyes as she slides one hand over to hold yours while the other slides underneath the pillow. She furrows her brows, opening her eyes again as her hand touches paper. Grabbing the item from underneath the pillow, she lets out a loud laugh. A sudoku. “God, you’re a nerd,” she says with a wide grin. You let out a little laugh, looking at her sheepishly. “but you’re my nerd.” she finishes with a twinkle in her eyes.

Maybe you should thank Azzi for tonight after all.

[elryuse]

EVERGARDEN FAMILIA FINALE

YANDERE MAFIA GAHYEON X MALE READER

TAGS : YANDERE MAFIA GAHYEON, SUBMISSION, THE END OF A STORY, ENDINGS, NEW HOPE? WORDS : 2.561 WORDS

The Last Part Of This Amazing Journey of a Commisson for My Friend @starconstruction Hoped You Like this Ending Mate. Can't Wait to create more amazing Stories with Ya.

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, the faint light filtering through heavy curtains doing little to illuminate the unfamiliar room. His head throbbed slightly, a dull ache that matched the confusion swirling in his mind. Where am I? He tried to sit up, but a sharp tug at his wrists stopped him cold. The metallic clink of chains filled the air as he yanked against them, panic rising in his chest.

His arms were bound to the bedposts with thick, unyielding cuffs, the kind that left no room for escape. His legs, too, were restrained, though not as tightly. The sheets beneath him were soft, luxurious even, but they offered no comfort. This isn’t my room. This isn’t anywhere I’ve been before. His heart hammered as he struggled against the restraints, the reality of his situation crashing down on him.

The door creaked open, cutting through his frantic thoughts. A silhouette appeared in the doorway, backlit by the brighter light of whatever lay beyond. Her. Gahyeon stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. She was dressed in a sleek black-and-white suit, the tailored lines hugging her frame perfectly. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her lips curved into a playful smile as she took in the sight of him.

“Good morning, love,” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She closed the door behind her with deliberate slowness, the latch clicking shut like a final punctuation mark. “Did you sleep well?”

Y/n strained against the chains again, his breath coming faster. “What the hell is this, Gahyeon? Let me go!”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence as she approached the bed. “Let you go? But we’re just getting started, darling.” She ran a finger along the edge of the mattress, her gaze never leaving his. “I thought it was time for us to… deepen our connection.”

He bared his teeth, his anger momentarily overshadowing his fear. “This isn’t a connection—this is kidnapping! You can’t just—”

“Oh, I can,” she interrupted, her voice hardening. “And I did.” She reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek. He flinched, trying to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Her touch was gentle, almost tender, but it sent a chill racing down his spine. “You belong to me now, Y/n. And I intend to make sure you never forget that.”

Her hand trailed down his jawline, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. “Do you remember last night?” she murmured, leaning closer. “How good it felt to let go? To stop fighting and just… surrender?” Her breath was warm against his ear, sending an involuntary shiver through him. “You don’t have to fight anymore. Just let me take care of you.”

“Gahyeon—” he started, but she cut him off with a kiss, her lips pressing against his with a possessiveness that left him breathless. It wasn’t cruel or rough—it was soft, almost chaste, but it carried a weight he couldn’t ignore. When she pulled back, her eyes gleamed with something dark and unrelenting.

“Shh,” she whispered, placing a finger against his lips. “No more talking. No more thinking. Just feel.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him with practiced ease. Her hands moved to the buttons of her blazer, unhurried and deliberate. Each button undone revealed more of her pale skin, the creamy expanse of her chest framed by the delicate lace of her bra. Y/n tried to avert his gaze, but she caught his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“See what you do to me?” she said, her voice low and husky. “How much I want you?” She shrugged the blazer off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Then came the blouse, pooling around her waist as she discarded it with a careless toss.

“Gahyeon, stop,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” she interrupted, her tone sharp. “Right? Fair? Moral?” She leaned down, her face inches from his. “Love isn’t about fairness, Y/n. It’s about passion. About obsession.” Her lips brushed against his again, this time lingering longer. “And I am obsessed with you.”

Her hands slid down his chest, trembling slightly as if she could barely contain herself. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. How many nights I’ve lain awake, imagining what it would be like to have you completely at my mercy.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly until it bunched under his arms. Her fingertips danced across his bare skin, tracing the lines of his muscles with feather-light touches.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed, her voice filled with reverence. “Every part of you. From the way your body responds to me…” Her hand drifted lower, grazing the waistband of his pants. “To the way your breath hitches when I touch you like this.”

Y/n’s hips jerked involuntarily, a traitorous reaction that made his stomach churn. Gahyeon noticed, of course, and her smile widened. “See? Even now, your body knows the truth. It knows who it belongs to.”

She unfastened his pants with excruciating slowness, each movement calculated to draw out the tension. When she finally freed him, her breath caught. “Perfect,” she murmured, her fingers wrapping around him with a firmness that made him gasp. “Absolutely perfect.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, humiliation warring with the undeniable arousal coursing through him. “Gahyeon, please…”

“Please what?” she teased, stroking him with agonizing precision. “Please stop? Or please keep going?” She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/n. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

He didn’t answer—he couldn’t. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to fight, to push her away, but his body betrayed him, arching into her touch. She chuckled softly, a sound that was equal parts affectionate and predatory.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, releasing him long enough to shed the rest of her clothes. She knelt over him, her thighs bracketing his hips, and guided him inside her with a slow, deliberate motion

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the private island. The waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm like a lullaby to Y/n’s weary mind. He sat on the edge of the bed in the luxurious villa Gahyeon had prepared for him, staring out at the vast expanse of the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was pristine, every detail meticulously curated—soft linens, muted colors, and an overwhelming sense of isolation. It was beautiful, yes, but it was also a gilded cage.

“Do you like it?” Gahyeon’s voice broke the silence, soft yet commanding as always. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the fading light. Her presence was magnetic, pulling his attention away from the view and back to her. She wore a flowing white dress that clung to her curves, the fabric whispering against her skin as she stepped closer.

Y/n didn’t answer immediately. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before returning to the window. “It’s… quiet,” he said finally, his voice low, almost resigned.

She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. Too quiet for you? she seemed to ask without words. She crossed the room with deliberate grace, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch both comforting and possessive.

“You’ll get used to it,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his arm. “This is where we can be together without anyone interfering. No Evergarden, no mafia, no one to pull us apart.”

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. There was no anger in his eyes now, no defiance—just a hollow emptiness that made her heart ache in the most peculiar way. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

“I’m thinking…” he paused, swallowing hard. “I’m thinking that there’s no escape.”

Her smile widened, though there was something sorrowful in it. “There never was, my love. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

He looked away again, his jaw tightening. “And if what I want is freedom?”

Gahyeon laughed softly, the sound melodic but tinged with something darker. “Oh, Y/n. You think you want freedom, but what you truly crave is control. Even now, even here, you’re fighting yourself. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Let go. Let me take the burden from you.”

Her hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were intense, filled with a fervor that bordered on madness. “You belong to me,” she said, her voice firm but tender. “And I belong to you. Isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t respond, but his body betrayed him. His shoulders slumped, the tension draining from him as he leaned into her touch. She recognized the shift immediately, her smile softening. “There,” she whispered, brushing her thumb against his lower lip. “That’s better.”

She sank onto the bed beside him, her weight causing the mattress to dip slightly. Her fingers intertwined with his, squeezing gently. “Let me show you how good this can be,” she murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t resist as she guided him to lie back, his head resting against the pillows. She straddled his hips, her dress pooling around them like a cloud. Her hands roamed over his chest, mapping the contours of his body with reverence. “You’re so perfect,” she whispered, her voice thick with adoration. “Every part of you… I’ve dreamed of this for so long.”

Her lips found his neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He shivered beneath her, his breath hitching as she moved lower, her teeth grazing his collarbone. “Gahyeon…” he breathed, his voice trembling.

“Shh,” she soothed, her fingers threading through his hair. “Just feel. Don’t think.”

Her hands slid under his shirt, pushing the fabric up until it pooled around his shoulders. She traced the lines of his abdomen, her touch feather-light but electric. When she reached the waistband of his pants, she paused, her eyes locking with his. “Tell me you want this,” she said, her voice a whisper.

He hesitated, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment, it seemed he might refuse, might push her away. But then his resolve crumbled, and he gave her the smallest nod.

A triumphant smile spread across her face as she leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue slipped past his lips, exploring his mouth with a hunger that left him breathless. When she pulled back, she pressed her forehead to his, her breath mingling with his. “Good boy,” she purred, her tone dripping with affection.

She made quick work of the rest of his clothes, her movements fluid and unhurried. Her own dress soon joined the pile on the floor, leaving her bare before him. The sight of her made his pulse race, his body responding despite the turmoil in his mind.

She settled over him once more, her thighs bracketing his hips. Her hand trailed down his chest, fingertips dancing over his skin until they reached his length. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasingly. His hips bucked involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips.

“You’re so sensitive,” she teased, her thumb swiping over the head of his cock. “So eager.”

“Gahyeon…” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

She smiled, releasing him only to position herself above him. With agonizing slowness, she lowered herself onto him, her body stretching to accommodate his size. A gasp escaped her lips as she took him inch by inch, her nails digging into his chest. Once he was fully sheathed inside her, she paused, letting them both adjust to the sensation.

“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice husky.

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then she began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her hands braced against his chest as she rode him, her breasts bouncing with each motion. The sounds of their bodies joining echoed in the room, mingling with their ragged breaths.

“This is where you belong,” she moaned, her nails scraping lightly against his skin. “Inside me. With me. Forever.”

Her pace quickened, her movements becoming more urgent. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “Come for me, Y/n. Let go. Give yourself to me completely.”

Her words broke the last of his resistance. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her down harder against him as he thrust upward. The sensations overwhelmed him, his vision blurring as pleasure coiled deep within him. Gahyeon cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she reached her own climax.

When it was over, she collapsed against him, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, placing a soft kiss against his pulse point. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He closed his eyes, exhaustion and relief washing over him. In that moment, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time—peace.

As they lay tangled together, Gahyeon traced patterns on his chest, her touch soothing. “You’ll see,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but content. “This is how it’s meant to be. You and me, together forever.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his head to look at her, his eyes searching hers. “Promise?” he asked quietly.

Her smile was radiant, filled with a warmth that melted away his doubts. “Always,” she replied, sealing her vow with a kiss

Small Epilogue ;

Years passed. The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of memories as Y/n drove, Gahyeon asleep beside him. He glanced at her, a soft smile gracing his lips. Her hair, streaked with silver now, framed her face, peaceful in slumber. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

They had built a life together, a life filled with laughter, whispered secrets, and the comforting weight of shared dreams. Their home, once a haven from the storm, was now overflowing with warmth and the echoes of children's laughter.

He remembered the day he had first looked into her eyes, the fear and the hesitant hope. Now, looking at her sleeping face, he knew that fear had long since vanished, replaced by a profound love that anchored his soul.

Gahyeon stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Where are we going?" she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

"To the beach," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Remember how we always dreamed of a little cottage by the sea?"

A slow smile spread across her face. "I remember," she whispered, reaching for his hand. "And now, look at us."

He squeezed her hand, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, casting a golden glow on the road ahead. As they drove on, hand in hand, Y/n knew that their journey, filled with love, laughter, and the occasional storm, had just begun.

The End

[ilguna]

☼ neck in neck (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; he just can’t seem to accept the fact that you’re better than him. so now, to defend himself, he’s calling you a copycat in the capitol because of this stupid tattoo. when really, it has a deeper meaning.

warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, vague threats to violence.

wc; 4.7k

notes; i talk about snow in a """good""" light bc there is no prostitution, not that you can tell in this imagine but still lol.

--

“Ugh, I just love the cocktails here!” Cashmere shouts over the music with a grin on her face. She’s leaned in close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath, but she’s trying to make sure you can hear her. “They’re intoxicating!”

“Do they have anything strong?” You ask back, squinting at the liquor they have behind the counter. 

“It’s the Victory Spot!” She laughs, “Of course they do.” 

Cashmere stands on her tiptoes, even though she’s tall and there’s no need to make herself bigger, but then she leans on the counter. She reaches over, grabs a laminated paper, and then sets it down in front of you.

It’s a menu.

You squint through the darkness, reading the long list of finely printed drinks, until you find one that’s going to get the night started on the right foot. You place your finger beneath the name, and then look up to find the nearest bartender. Only, there’s already one hovering over you and Cashmere, she’s just waiting for you to order.

“I’ll take the carnivore.” You smile. “Will you add an extra shot? I don’t care which liquor.”

The bartender raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure? It’s pretty strong.”

“(Y/n) has a high tolerance.” Cashmere chips in, “You won’t be killing her.”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she backs off the counter. “If there is a funeral, don’t invite me.”

You let out a laugh, turning to face Cashmere while the drink is made. “So, what’s new in the world of District One?”

“The usual shit.” She rolls her eyes. “The mentors before Gloss and I are complaining about the lack of victors in our district recently. And they’re blaming it on our mentoring style, but none of them want to take over.” She shrugs. “Apparently we have appearances to upkeep.”

“There’s been a streak lately.” You wave your hand. “Since I won it’s been nothing but districts that haven’t seen a victor in a good couple years.”

“And I see nothing wrong with that.” Cashmere shrugs.

“Agreed.” You murmur, watching the pattern of flashing lights.

While the Hunger Games are supposed to be a competition between the districts, you’re not selfish enough to be disappointed that other districts are taking home their children. There’s plenty of anger to go around, of course, but it’s not aimed at the mentors around you. It’s directed at the Capitol.

“Here’s your cup of death.” A voice says behind you. 

You glance over your shoulder first to look at the drink the bartender has just made you, a smile coming over your face when you see the dark red color. You pull out your metal card that’s provided by the Capitol for your monthly allowance. Except, it’s pretty much useless in District Two because everything is handled in cash, but you can’t use cash here because they think it's dirty. 

And it’s outdated.

She takes the card from your fingers, and you watch as a brief wave of impression crosses her face, something you’re not unfamiliar to. The heavier the card, the wealthier you are. It’s not super common for Capitol citizens to have such a luxury.

You lift the glass, watching the cubes of ice dance inside. As soon as the liquor hits your tongue, you know you don't need another drink tonight. This will be enough to get you loose, but not inebriated enough to not get back to the Tribute Center. 

You take a larger sip, the bartender slides the card back to you.

“Taxi services are listed by the door.” She points to where you entered from.

“I like to walk.” You wink at her, and then you look at Cashmere. “Where to?”

“This way.” She cocks her head to the side, walking into the crowd of people. 

You follow behind her, not really paying attention to the bodies, or those who bump into you. There’s even a few hands that caress at your skin, desperate for the attention that you’ll never give. Not without a price, at least.

There’s a few high tops that are open on this side of the room. Cashmere chooses the one pressed against the wall, allowing you to pick your chair first. Out of habit, you slide onto the one that allows you to get a clear look at the door, in case anything were to happen. And since Cashmere has no preference, she happily slides into the seat across from you.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She says, swirling her glittery drink. “What has Finnick been saying about you this year?”

“We haven’t even been in the Capitol for three days and he’s been calling me names to all my regular sponsors.” You press your lips together. “I’ve been building up this clientele for years, I can’t afford to lose them, if I actually want to have a chance this year. He knows this.”

“He’s just upset because he thinks you’re taking his mentoring style, right?” She asks.

You let out a breath of air. “You mean the mentoring style that the Career districts have been doing since the beginning?” You ask back. “The original Career districts?”

She makes a face. “I still don’t understand how they’re a part of the pack.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t see how fish can be that great of a luxury but I’m not the one who lives here.” You raise your hands defensively. “All the times I’ve had it, it tastes as good as it smells.”

Cashmere smiles.

“Anyway, besides him calling me names, he’s also telling them that I don’t keep my promises and I never had. That’s why I haven’t been able to bring a tribute home.” You nod. “Because I’m just one big fraud—a scam artist. A wannabe.”

“A wannabe?” Cashmere repeats.

“That’s what I was told by one of the richer women.” You smile. bitterly “And then she went right back to ignoring me. I can’t talk sense into any of them now. It’s like they wanted to give me an explanation, just so they could stonewall me.”

You take a drink of the carnivore, getting a little enjoyment from the burn in your throat as it goes down.

“I would try, but we both know how that would end.”

“Yeah, there’s no point in getting us both blacklisted in the Capitol.” You agree. “I wish there was something I could do about it.”

“You could confront him.” Cashmere suggests with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. “Set things straight.”

You snort, “The only way I know how to do that is with my fists, and something tells me that won’t go over well with President Snow.”

“Your fists?”

“Actions speak louder than words.” You smirk.

She shakes her head, staring down at the table for a couple of seconds. “Do you think roughing him up would actually work?”

“Are you kidding? I’d probably get crucified.” You sit back in your chair. “He’ll always be the Capitol favorite, I’m just a close second.” 

“Guess you’ll have to have a heart-to-heart with him.”

You mock a gag, pressing a fist to your mouth. “You think he has a heart? He’s knowingly taking sponsors away from innocent teenagers.”

“Innocent.” She laughs. “Our tributes are hardly that.”

“They are until they get their hands bloody.” You tell her. “They’re still children.”

For the next hour, you talk to Cashmere about your tributes becoming allies, their strengths and weaknesses, and the likeliness that they’ll end up pairing with the Four tributes—whether you like it or not. At the rate they’re currently going, they haven’t shown any interest in Finnick’s tributes, but that doesn’t mean they won’t change their minds later on.

Cashmere then offers to talk to her sponsors about teaming up with you, at least until your situation is sorted. You take her up on it, except you ask her not to go through with anything just yet. If it’s possible, you’d like to continue to use the people you’ve gotten to know these past couple years.

Which means that you need to have a conversation with Finnick at the first given chance.

The night ends early when one of the bartenders approaches your table and tells you that Cashmere’s escort is calling around to see where she’s at. As an apology for interrupting your conversation, he drops off two shots and then goes back to the bar.

Cashmere rolls her eyes, sliding off her seat. “I should get back, he’s been up my ass lately about making sure I’m present for mentoring. As if Gloss doesn’t attend everything.” She motions to the shots on the table. “Take mine for me, will you? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” You wave her off, she gives you a cheeky smile.

You watch her disappear into the sea of bodies, before you turn to the shots. With a shake of your head, you throw back the liquor, one after the other. You arrange the glasses neatly on the table before getting to your feet, straightening out your skirt.

It can’t be any later than midnight, and the place seems like it’s packed from wall to wall. You carefully navigate your way to the bar, figuring it’ll be easy to leave from there. The bartender that served you the carnivore earlier gives you a wave on your way out, and you lift your hand as a courtesy.

As soon as you step on to the colorful Capitol street, the warm July air kisses your skin, cooling you down. You stare down the block for a couple of seconds, enjoying the peace, before you have to go back to the Tribute Center and deal with your own version of crazy. 

You’re so sick of being bossed around by your escort, but you were warned by one of the stylists that if you keep intentionally screwing with her, then you were going to get in trouble. Apparently she’s already started the process of getting in contact with Snow, and she’s just waiting for an excuse to tell him everything.

You’re not really afraid of what will happen if she does tattle on you to the President, you think he would get your side of the story first before making any final decisions. It’s the fact that she’ll be smug after that’s making you hesitate. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

After a minute or so, you turn to continue down the street, heading in the direction of the Tribute Center. It’s not that long of a walk, you’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes. Despite this, you’re sure that Cashmere will still call a taxi to get home, she was wearing a nice pair of heels.

You really don’t know what to do about this situation with Finnick. As nice as it would be to pull him aside and talk your feelings out, you’re not that type of person. When you suggested settling the situation with your hands, you were only partially kidding.

After everything he’s done to you these past couple of years, it would be well deserved. He’s got his head so far up his ass that he thinks you’re following his every move. When in reality, you’re just using the strategies that are being taught to you by the mentors in the past.

Lyme, especially.

If you do decide to throw him around, he has it coming, so you won’t entirely feel bad about it. The only issue is that you come from a family where fighting your problems out is the usual. He won’t be able to defend himself as easily. 

You’ll have to deal with the repercussions, though. Finnick is a Capitol favorite, he gets everything he wants from his team, and sometimes even the President. If you so much as leave a bruise on his golden skin, you’ll bet that they’ll have you replaced in the Capitol forever. You won’t be welcome back, and you’re not sure if you’re willing to give that up just yet.

Either way, you’ll have to figure it out soon. Preferably without the help of that idiot they sent you here with. If they were trying to piss you off, they did a great job of it. He’s notorious for leaving all the work to the female mentors so he can do all the schmoozing, but as soon as he heard of what was happening with the sponsors, he holed himself up in his room. 

Hopefully he stays there.

You take a shortcut through an alley that should lead you right to the front doors of the Tribute Center. The streets of the Capitol are safe, you never have to worry about some creep hanging around, only the workers of the shops. Even then, they’re not really that intrusive, they just want to get through the night so they can go home.

There’s no one here except for you.

About halfway through the alley, it gets incredibly dark because of a light that’s out above one of the doors. This doesn’t bother you, all you do is keep your eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on any trash that might have gotten flung by accident.

A sharp pain seizes your left forearm, so sudden and unexpected that you think someone has just stabbed you. Without a second thought, you throw your entire body into a punch behind you, but it catches nothing. Your momentum works against you, bringing you down to the pavement.

You collapse in a puddle of what you can only imagine is garbage juice. The little care you have for the integrity of your clothes is gone the moment the pain spreads in two different directions, the feeling of pins and needles stabbing at your arm. You clutch your skin in a tight grip, squeezing your eyes closed and rocking, wishing it would stop.

And it does.

You sit for a minute, taking some deep breaths while you carefully look over your arm, needing to know what happened. It doesn’t look like anything has changed, but there is a smudge of dirt that’s being stubborn. You leave it for now, you’ll scrub it off in the shower when you get back to the Two apartment.

As soon as you get back to your feet, your skirt suctions to your skin, as well as your nice shirt, which is most definitely ruined now. You let out an annoyed sigh, as you continue through the alley and back onto the main sidewalk. A street light illuminates where you stand, allowing you to get a clear look at your arm.

You hold it out, expecting to see mud, but you’re met with something much more permanent—a tattoo. What you had thought to be a mess of dirt on your arm, is actually a freshly carved tattoo, just beneath the inside of your elbow. You press your lips together at the sight of your irritated skin.

You have a soulmate, and either they can afford to get a tattoo in the districts, or they’re somewhere here in the Capitol. And judging by the handiwork, you think it’s the latter.

Before you can even give yourself a moment to wonder who might be on the other side of it, your feet begin to move. Right now, you need to get this cleaned if you don’t want it to get infected. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out who you’re meant to be with when you wake up tomorrow.

—

Copycat.

It’s what you’ve been called all day. From the moment you woke up and walked out of your bedroom, to just five minutes ago in the sponsorship room surrounded by Capitol people. It’s driving you up the wall, and it’s because of the mark on your arm.

“Copycat,” Hannes—your fellow District Two mentor—said as soon as his eyes found the tattoo on your arm. “Did you really get that last night?”

“Yes and no.” You told him, dragging your feet to the dining room table, where breakfast had been recently served. “Copycat?”

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “What do you mean? Did you get it this morning?”

“No, I’ve been sleeping since I came back from the Victory Spot with Cashmere.”

Hannes squinted at you, not at all convinced. “You’re not a very good liar. Where’d you get it?”

“I’m not lying.” You told him. “I got it in an alleyway.”

He sputtered out a laugh, coming up the steps to get a closer look. “You got that in an alleyway? Who’d you have to pay to get that sort of intel?”

“What are you talking about?” You stared at him. “Intel on what?”

Hannes elongated his neck a little bit, trying to decipher if you were fucking with him or not, but you weren’t.

After a long pause, he said: “Finnick, obviously.”

“Hannes, what about Finnick?”

“He got the same exact tattoo last night. I was with him and Gloss at the tattoo shop on the corner. The one down the road from Sugar and Spice.”

In that moment, you felt all the blood run from your face, the expression on your face dropping completely. Finnick. Finnick got the same exact tattoo last night? Finnick is the one that you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life? Is this some sort of joke?

“Did you not think anyone would notice?”

“Holy shit.” You murmured, sitting back in your chair.

“You’re a fucking copycat.”

“I’m not a copycat, you moron.” You snapped back. “Leave me alone.”

It couldn’t stop there, of course. When you got dressed for the sponsors, you tried to look nice by wearing a summery dress with a cute pair of wedges. Usually, you go for an expensive set, trying to look like you come from wealth, but you were hoping that if you took a page from Cashmere’s dress, then maybe it would be easier to get through to them.

Unfortunately, it did not work. In fact, you think you set yourself up for violence, because you practically got verbally assaulted by the Capitol people that hang around Finnick the most. You have thick skin, so nothing they could say would ever get you riled up, but it kept coming.

And then it began to encourage the people around them. By the time Cashmere and Gloss were finally arriving, you were fuming. Your skin was hot to the touch, and you were grinding your teeth.

“You look like you want to kill someone.” Cashmere told you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Why are you so warm?”

“Is that a tattoo on your arm?” Gloss asked without giving you a chance to answer his sister first. “Wait—”

“I did not get this tattooed last night.” You told him, steely eyes encapsulating him into a stare down, challenging him to call you some form of a copycat.

“Well, how could you? You went right home after the bar, right?” Cashmere asked, reaching to grab your arm to get a better look.

Gloss had a question on his tongue, eyes wide as he looked between the mark on your arm and your face. He knew that if he said the wrong thing, he would immediately get reamed, forcing him to reconsider his words carefully.

And you knew that he already knew who else had just gotten that tattoo on their body.

“Yes, I did. I even took a shortcut through an alley to get to the building quicker.” You told her through tight teeth.

Gloss opened his mouth, taking in a breath of air, and then it hitched. He changed his mind, not quite ready to ask you.

“So… this morning?” Cashmere asked, not paying attention to her brother. “When did you have time?”

“I haven’t.” You finally looked at her. “I did not get this last night or this morning.”

Gloss swallowed. “You know, Finnick was at a tattoo shop with Hannes and I last night.” He started slowly, testing the water.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Hannes told me this morning, and I’ve been getting an earful from these assholes all afternoon.”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what to say right now, because all I’m coming up with are ways that will get you pissed off more than you already are.”

“I am not a copycat.” You told him, then looked at Cashmere. “I got it in that alleyway last night.”

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing while she stared at you, trying to figure out what you were trying to subtly tell her. “Okay…?”

“Finnick has the same tattoo, Cash.” Gloss nudged her a little. “I watched him get it.”

Her eyes bounced down to what’s been permanently etched into your skin. “Soulmate mark?” She asked, her tone slightly hopeful.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You told her, “And now I have no choice but to talk it out with him.”

“You’ll be able to catch him tonight.” Gloss told you. “He’s free, he has no plans.”

“Good, because we need to settle this.”

After this, you went back to the apartment to change into something more casual, tired of appearances. You settled on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved shirt that would cover the damn thing. However, when you got to the sponsorship room to be with Cashmere and Gloss, it was infuriating.

It was like you became a zoo animal. Once word got out that you had gotten a tattoo exactly like Finnick’s, less than twenty-four hours from when he got it, everyone had to come and see. And while it did get incredibly busy, and it would’ve been perfect for networking—all people wanted to do was see the tattoo and ask you if you were proud of yourself. Or if you had a hard time being your own individual.

Which is rich coming from a group of people who talk, walk and dress the same. They have one collective mind and it’s controlled by the President, but it’s not like you could say that to them. 

So, you gave up for the evening and you’ve spent the rest of the night stewing in your room, waiting for everyone to go to bed so you can leave. As you step into the elevator, you jab your thumb into the four button on the box. The doors slowly slide shut, and then you’re sent a few floors up.

From what you understand, all the floor layouts for the Tribute Center are the same, so it should be relatively easy to get around. When the elevator stops, the doors open, revealing a differently decorated apartment. It’s incredibly cliche, with the seashells and sand vases with ocean paintings on the wall.

Something moves in the darkness, you step forward to place your hand on the doors to keep them from trying to close. You don’t move further than that, waiting to see who it is that’s in the living space. If it’s Lynnea—or whatever the girl mentor’s name is—you’ll have to come up with some lame excuse and go back down.

A low laugh interrupts the silence, as the person barely comes into sight. It’s Finnick, and he’s got this smug look on his face. You hate smug people.

“Well, look who it is.” He says slowly, you step out of the elevator. The doors close immediately, blocking off the light. But he’s prepared for this, because he reaches to the nearest table to flick on the lamp. “Come to scope me out and see what else you should steal from me? A tattoo wasn’t enough?”

“Are you stupid?” You shoot back, it comes out harsher than you mean for it to. “Genuinely. I thought that you had to be smart, considering your strategies, but you have to lack some common sense.”

“I’m stupid? The least you could try to do is be subtle.” He motions to your arm. “Nowhere else? In the exact same spot as me? I thought Hannes was kidding when he told me.” He shakes his head. “You had to be stalking me in order to get it that quick, and then you went to some alleyway artist to protect their identity? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You think I care about your life that much?” You laugh a little. “You don’t think it’s strange that I happened to get it the same night you did?”

“I figured it was a form of dedication.” He shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time you tried to follow in my footsteps.”

You open your mouth to correct him, but you remind yourself that you can’t get sidetracked. “It appeared on my arm.”

Finnick’s face twists, as if you’re trying to feed him a spoon of shit. “Tattoos don’t just appear on your arm. How fucking stupid do you think I am?”

You don’t take the bait. “They do in some cases.” You tell him, not wanting to outright give him the answer.

Honestly, it’s not like you really hate Finnick and the thought of being connected to him makes you sick. It’s because you want him to feel stupid for how he’s been treating you these past few years—especially this year. 

You don’t really care about him, usually you can stomach and brush off what he has to say, and the shenanigans he’s up to. You’re actually pretty similar in most ways, which is why his behavior doesn’t get to you. You have the same fashion taste, mentoring style, arena strategies, and more. And you only considered this to be a coincidence until recently.

It clicked in your mind this afternoon while you were changing. All the pieces have fallen into place since. You’ve always been drawn to each other, whether you liked it or not. It might’ve been romantic or friendly from the beginning if Finnick hadn’t already hated your guts. Instead, it just turned you into competitors.

“Like what?” Finnick asks, still actively being combative.

“Take a second and think about it.” You tell him, leaning against the wall. “I’ll even give you a hint; we have the rest of our lives to figure it out.”

The creases in his forehead get more defined while he turns your words over in his head. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what you’re telling him. His eyes dart to his forearm, where he rubs the tattoo on his skin, lips pressed together in a thin line. Then his arm drops. 

“We’re soulmates.”

“It explains everything, doesn’t it?” You ask him.

“Yeah, actually.” He looks up from the floor. “How long have you known?”

“I knew it was a soulmate mark when it appeared on my arm after the bar last night, but it was Hannes that actually indirectly told me it was you.”

He lets out a hiss. “This will be a hard one to explain to the Capitol.”

You shrug. “Tell them the truth, or don’t. Either way, I want my sponsors back.” You raise your eyebrows. “It’s unfair to turn them against me like that, especially since they’re not for me, they’re for my tributes.”

“That was Lynnea.” Finnick shakes his head. “She wanted them to come to us, instead. I’ll have a talk with them to make sure we set things straight.”

“You can’t blame it on Lynnea. Everyone has told me that you called me a wannabe.”

Finnick’s face twists. “Do I look like I call people wannabe’s?”

You squint at him. “Fine, I’ll let that go. Just tell Lynnea that if she wants to go home with a black eye, that’s the way to do it.” You press the button on the wall, and the elevator opens right back up. You step on, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Finnick takes a step forward, you block the doors that have begun to close. “What are we going to do about this?” He asks, showing you the tattoo on his arm. “We live in two different districts.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds, “I’m in no hurry to find out. It’s not like we don’t see each other every year for a month at a time.”

Finnick nods a little bit. “Goodnight, (Y/n). I’m sorry.”

“You’ll make it up to me.” You give him a cheeky smile, moving your hand away from the elevator door. “Goodnight, Finnick.”

[simmplerussiangirl]

Her Princess

Part three

Ambessa Medarda x The Reader

Synopsis : The only daughter of the Ras family is exchanged with the Medard clan for a peace treaty. Thanks to her pride and the hard core inside her, she doesn't falls into despair and continues to live. She continues to live to take revenge on her family for literally selling her to a clan of enemies.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: I already realized that you like drabbles more, but damn, this work is more elaborate...

After about five minutes of wandering up and down the stairs, I finally reached the deck, which was surprisingly empty. Walking over to the railing, I climbed over it. I stretched out on my arms, which I used to hold onto the rail, breathing in the salty air, I smiled a little. The sight of water always thrilled me and I would probably love to work on a ship. Yes, the work would be hard, but that feeling of imaginary freedom stirred my blood. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the sea, trying to memorize it as best I could.

 For the first time in a long time I felt good, free. Even in spite of all the events that had happened. And even though my heart was filled with anxiety, I knew that I would remember this moment only with a smile.

 Suddenly I cried out, feeling someone else's hand on my stomach, and the way it pressed me against the fence and someone else's big, warm body. I didn't even realize how cold I was until I felt such a stark contrast of warmth.

 I looked down at my stomach and saw a dark scarred woman's hand. It was completely around my stomach and waist, not even giving me a ghostly hope that I could escape. I relaxed a little at the fact that it wasn't some drunken warrior clutching me, but Amressa.

- It's a nice dress,” the Medard clan leader said glumly, ”But I remember it was delivered to you in a different state.

-Really? - I thought about it playfully - Ah, yes, I remember there were some dresses that looked like they were made for an outlandish doll.

- Dolls? Interesting comparison-the woman held me tighter to her, seemingly afraid that I was about to fall into the sea. - You're going to drown yourself?

-I'm not going to give you that joy, believe me, I plan to make your life a living hell-” I laughed hoarsely, leaning my head back against her shoulder.

- What's wrong with your voice? Why is it so hoarse and low?

- And you shouldn't give a fuck about that,” I lost all the fun, ”Let me go, I'm not going to drown myself. If I wanted to, I would have done it a long time ago.

-No-she moved her hand right to my waist and took it from the other side and with some incredible ease lifted me over the fence and set me beside her.

 My face expressed what must have been an extreme degree of displeasure. I raised my head and looked her in the eye. Now standing in front of her without heels, I could feel the incredible difference in height. Considering that I was also very frail, it probably looked ridiculous.

 I rolled my eyes and walked over to the fence again, this time just sitting on it.

- What are you doing here?

- The warrior who was guarding you reported that you left the room with a very aggressive demeanor,” I rolled my eyes and snorted quietly. - I knew it wasn't true; he was being punished for his lies.

- Punishing your loyal warriors because of your trophy? - I laughed again, feeling her back come up to me again, but this time she didn't touch me, just put her hands on either side of me, leaning over my head.

- Do you consider yourself my trophy?

- Isn't that what it is? I personally think that word describes my situation perfectly. - I swung my legs, I felt the vise of anxiety release my heart. To my surprise I felt impossibly comfortable being around her. Under other circumstances I would have fallen in love with her and fallen in love with myself, but unfortunately not now.

- Not like this. - A menacing wheeze sent a small shiver through me, and I was slightly surprised at my body's reaction to her proximity, her voice...

- Who then? I'm at a loss as to what status I'm in.

- It has not changed, Princess Ras. I took you away in exchange for a peace treaty, whatever your parents may have annexed to some other country. - The woman took her hands off the side and just when I thought she was about to leave, I felt her lean her elbows on the rail so that she grazed my palm. She hummed and looked up into the starry sky - You think I haven't tried peace talks with them? I offered them safety and my support in case they were attacked, but they refused. So I went to war on them, I couldn't let my enemies get you and your magic. It's easier to fix a problem when it's small. You can't wait for it to grow. Do you understand?

- I see,” I thought for a moment, raising my head too and looking up at the night sky, ”I doubt my mother will be able to rule. If I were you, I'd send proxies to make sure she doesn't run the kingdom into the ground and- - I stammered, realizing that Ambressa has no need to preserve my state. She didn't care deeply if it collapsed or not. She only wanted my magic from my kingdom. And to keep it from becoming stronger than hers.

-And? - The head of the clan hummed and turned a smiling face toward me. But that smile wasn't mocking, rather it was sweet and soothing.

- And that was it. I've already realized that it's in your best interest...” I looked away, ”I'm sorry I made your job easier by killing my father. I should have let him live.

- Do you regret killing him?

-No, I regret that my state will collapse in my lifetime. -No.

 We were silent for a while, each of us thinking about something else.

- If you get over your pride and ask me to send my men there, I'll do it. As a sign that I'm not going to be your enemy. It's not in my best interest after all. - I could feel the woman's gaze on my face, attentive, scrutinizing.

- What's in your best interest? - I turned my head and looked earnestly into her eyes.

- To be my confidant, to make your magic my greatest weapon.

- And in return, you will not let my country decline? - A flame of hope flickered in my eyes that I couldn't seem to hide. Ambassa smiled at my face with the softest and most charming smile I had ever seen in my life.

- Yes, but you still have to ask for it.

 I narrowed my eyes and puckered my lips, showing my displeasure, which made me hear a raspy laugh.

- You're different now, not like you were in your palace. Too emotional....

-I held my face there, in front of my parents and my people. I couldn't look weak in front of my people, then they would lose confidence that everything was fine, and my family would lose respect. They would definitely start a revolution there, and my mother... She could never in her life rein in even the servants, let alone the rebels. Now I don't see much point in putting on a mask. And what's the point, you'll understand what I'm feeling anyway, you've obviously had a lot of experience in this matter.

- You won't even try.

- It's not rational. I'll just go crazy if I keep masks on all the time, and besides, why would I do that? I'm no longer a member of the royal family.

- What makes you say that? I already told you that you haven't lost your status. Once you learn how to rule, I'll let you go back to your homeland and you can continue to rule in your homeland.  I'm not going to take away your heritage.

 - Will you make a comfortable ruler out of me? - I laughed hoarsely again at the disrupted voice and stared silently at the sky, pondering the dialog that had just taken place between Ambessa and me. I took a deep breath of fresh air and turned my head.

  Mrs. Medarda was leaning back, relaxed, on the railing, looking up at the sky, her face was completely calm, not a single muscle in her face was trembling, she was breathing deeply, seemingly enjoying the sea breeze too.

 “She's especially beautiful right now...”. I twitched from my thoughts.

-Okay, then as Princess Ashara I ask you to send men to my state to prevent the decline of the kingdom. - I stood up from the railing and looked at her again.

- If you say so, darling"-the woman straightened up and grinned at me. She hooked my chin and forced me to look her straight in the eye - Sometimes, you have to swallow your pride. I'm not telling you this as a pejorative, but as a fact. From time to time, there are no options left but to ask for help. Like you just did. - And while I was recovering from either the shock of her touching me or her words. The girl picked me up in her arms like a bride. - You walk barefoot on a ship whose decks are lined with wood. You'll get splinters and diseases. What do you want, princess?

 I just stared at her in shock, unable to get anything coherent out of my mouth. The woman, on the other hand, looked at me with a slight smile, starting to walk.

- Fuck, Ambessa, put me on the floor! - I jerked my legs, trying to get out of her arms - Stop it, I understand, of course, but I'm not a kitten that weighs a few hundred grams and can be picked up whenever you want.

 Medard laughed hoarsely, not even thinking of stopping and letting go. She didn't seem to care at all about the strength with which you were thrashing about in her arms.

- You think I can't hold you in my arms? You're sorely mistaken, you weigh nothing to me. What did you say, “kitten”? Well, you are a kitten.

 I rolled my eyes, but I stopped kicking, enjoying the warmth of the woman and the feeling of safety. I heard her snicker softly.

- Have you been in situations where you needed to temper your pride? - I decided to revisit the subject.

- A long time ago, before I came to the throne. And I made sure I would never be in that position again in my life. - Ambressa carried me like a jewel, carefully, making sure I didn't hit anything, head or feet. - Because of the vines you braided around the door, Maria couldn't get to you, so I can send people to wake her up and bring her to you. - In a hurry Ambessa translated the conversation; it seems that this topic of conversation was unpleasant for her. Well, I didn't insist, I found out everything I wanted to know.

-No need let him sleep. - I didn't want to see anyone; I just wanted to close my eyes and wrap myself in a warm blanket and fall asleep. I could feel my body freezing, and the only thing I wanted was to be warm at last.

-The woman opened my cabin and sat me down.

 I looked around the room and realized the place had been cleaned up. The ashes that lay everywhere from the burned cushions and parts of the dresses had been removed, leaving no trace. The dresses themselves were gone, either put back in the closet or taken away. There were sheets of paper and new pens on the table again. What was new was the first aid kit on the bed.

Ambressa crouched on one knee in front of me and took my ankle in her hands. She pulled something from the medicine cabinet and began to wash the blood off my legs.

 I watched her movements mesmerized. Her touches were light and gentle, even though she was the epitome of strength and courage. When all the blood was washed away, she soaked a cloth in alcohol and put it on my skin, which made me yank my leg and hiss. But she didn't let me pull it out, just squeezed my leg tighter.

-Hush, princess. You've cut your feet into meat, you need to work on them.

 She looked at me with her lovely eyes, tilting her head to the side, letting me prepare for the pain. I clenched my fists, held my breath, and nodded slightly, letting her know I was ready.

 She went back to treating the wounds. I could feel her hands twitching at my slightest moan of pain. The only excuse I could come up with for why she was doing this was that she only wanted to establish communication between us.

- I looked down at her exhaustedly and exhaled a sigh of relief. - I'll just bandage your legs and you'll be free to go.

-Why are you doing this? You know I could have done it myself, or you could have had a doctor come to me. - The question just came out of me.

- I like taking care of you,” she finished dressing me without looking up. - And I want you to trust me. Neither I nor my men will harm you, I want you to understand that.

 She stood up again, towering over you, pressing her power again.

-Good dreams, Princess Ros, -she left the cabin without waiting for my reply.

-I whispered absent-mindedly in the empty room and climbed under the blanket. Using magic, I turned out the light in the room and closed my eyes.

 “I'll think about it tomorrow,” was the last thought that flashed through my head.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[mysoftboybensolo]

Things I Don't Understand of Audiences Reaction of Nosferatu 2024

Complaints of how this is a ripoff of Dracula, and I am like, of course it is! The original 1922 film is the most famous ripoff in the history of cinema, but it is also one of the best ripoffs ever. Maybe know your history just a bit.

Why are people saying that Ellen dying was stupid or unnecessary? Firstly, that has been the ending in the 1922 and the 1979 film, this wasn't just anything Eggers pulled from nowhere. Secondly, people don't seem to understand that the Gothic genre never not one that allows it's characters to walk away unscathed, whether it is physical damage or mental damage. Blood is demanded, and hardly a truly happy ending is found, at best a bittersweet ending or at worst an ending where everyone is unhappy. I think not only is it true to the films this one is based on, but also the only satisfying ending. Ellen wouldn't have been truly happy if she had survived, because she still will be a seer, she will still have darkness looming inside, and Thomas is either incapable or unwilling to accept it. He's belief that killing Orlok will bring a reset to everything, even bringing Ellen back to how she was before, but the Ellen she was before was still suffered. He brushes aside her nightmares without comfort, he doesn't take into account how she views their marriage (when she insists that she doesn't need material things but he acts as if he knows better), and when she tries to express her suffering, he would prefer her to suppress it. She would never be truly free, but to die doing a good thing, to have control over her death the way she didn't in life, it's an empowering end, if bittersweet.

People complaining about the pace of the film, saying it starts off fine but then drags in the middle? I think the film flowed wonderfully, there was never a moment when I was thinking how much longer to the end or felt it rushed in the story. I personally cannot wait until we get the extended version, but I am happy with how it came out.

Where are people getting "Orlok groomed Ellen" from? Grooming is when someone goes after a minor and gets them to be emotionally attached to them for a long period of time in order to achieve some sort of goal (often times sex). People have been saying Ellen was a "literal child", but we don't know that for certain. Yes, Ellen described herself as a child, but it seems that the term child is used more as a synonym of "inexperienced" or "young". Also, we are not sure how old any of these characters are. If we were to go by actors ages as guidelines, Lily-Rose Depp was 24 when filming this, and all we get in between the first scene to the present day is merely "years later". That can mean two years or ten, we cannot be sure. And while Lil-Rose Depp can look younger than her age, no one better try and say she was playing a 12 year old or whatever in that first scene, because there is no way you can convince me she is as young as that. Also, Ellen hadn't been emotionally attached to Orlok between the years to make it grooming. I can make a better argument of grooming in another famous Gothic movie the 2004 "Phantom of the Opera" then I could with "Nosferatu".

Listen, this movie won't be for everyone, that is fine, but what I have an issue with is saying people are dumb or evil for thinking Ellen x Orlok is interesting/has romantic elements to it. One person commented on another's post about saying that the cast are dumb for seeing this as a love triangle, especially Lily-Rose Depp for not seeing Ellen as a victim. The director, who also wrote it, wanted this version to play up the Death and the Maiden themes, that was their vision, and I don't think it's right or fair to say they are dumb because the original movie wasn't a love triangle. If we were to be really anal about it, so many pieces of media we have we wouldn't be able to enjoy because it's origins are not the same. Sorry Disney's Hunchback fans, you can't enjoy the happy ending because the original was a downer. Sorry Wicked fans, it's nothing like "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", so it shouldn't be enjoyed. See how ridiculous it sounds? You can debate if whether or not they managed to achieve their goal, but you can't deny that was the intention and say people are dumb for picking up what they had intended.

I also feel that it's quite hypocritical of people to say that the relationship between Orlok and Ellen is evil and creepy, but then go off and say that the scenes where Friedrich has sex with Anna's corpse as "romantic" and Thomas' couch scene as "hot", when both deal with dubious/no consent at all. Just admit it, you are fine with dubious stuff so long as it's a hot guy doing it. The couch scene was quite uncomfortable for me, Ellen is clearly not in her right mind, even if not by some kind of possession, but emotionally, and it didn't sit right what Thomas did. I am not saying he raped her, but she wasn't in the right mind space to have this be a passionate moment. And he wasn't doing because of love or passion, he was doing it because he didn't like hearing Ellen say how he couldn't please her like the Count could. We had seen what they are like when they are in a good head space and the feeling mutual, as we saw in the den of the Harding's home. I feel like this scene wasn't meant to be a hot and sexy moment, but a incredibly distressing moment when two individuals are acting at their worst.

I don't understand how people feel that this film isn't a feminist film. I've seen people claim that the movie shames Ellen and that her not finding out how to stop Orlok is robbing her of her agency. Here's the thing, yes, many characters shame her for what she feels, but the narrative doesn't. As the audience, we feel sorry for her, feel bad for everything she is going through, and given the time period, of course there would be many people (mainly men) who will shame her passions or deny her darkness in favor for a more "womanly behavior". We are meant to see how the human world would never understand Ellen the way Orlok would understand her, why she would have called out a force that is inhuman, because humanity has turned her away. What's fascinating is that Ellen has control of Orlok, being able to call him, speak to him as an equal, and get him, a powerful centuries old being, to admit that she is his affliction, his weakness, and in the end, it's proven right. This mortal woman is able to defeat a supernatural being, all the while him loving her, how is that not awesome and feminist?

In regards to her finding the cure; true, in both the '22 and '79 film, Ellen figure out on her own what needs to be done to stop Orlok, but that doesn't mean '24 Ellen isn't smart or in charge of her own actions. We've seen Ellen say what the future holds multiple times, so it isn't crazy to believe that she would have seen what her fate would have been as it drew closer, and her need to talk to Von Franz read to me as her knowing the cure. When Ellen walks Von Franz to his home, she says that she knows what must be done, and they work together to make this happen, with him promising to keep Thomas away. Out of all the men, Von Franz had been the only one to take her feelings and thoughts seriously, and he does so here, including her in the plan (where Thomas had refused her to help), even giving her the chance to be stop Orlok without interruption. He isn't denying her agency, he's keeping others at bay so she can be the hero.

I like the moustache, just like a Romanian nobleman would have had, exactly what the director wanted. After leaving the theatre, my friend and I were discussing the film, and of course the design of Orlok was brought up, and she said "I liked it, especially the moustache, very Vlad the Impaler". She isn't a massive Dracula fan but she understood what was the inspiration behind it. Y'all are just uncultured swine.

In the end, I love this film, and wanted to just share my two cents.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

bad mood. l Joel Miller

before Jackson

Summary: bad moods were holding you all, then you found this place

Warnings:  a bit of angst, but they finally make up, Ellie shows up, some swearing, guns, they're pretty mean to each other

A/N: This was requested by the wonderful @underneath-the-sky-again. thank you sweetie. I hope you enjoy it. it's short and boring!❤️

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

It was a difficult time for Joel. 

It all started with the worsening weather - the cold and rain were becoming more and more difficult and made you have to walk on roads that were drowning in mud and puddles. One day Ellie declared that even her underwear was wet and she was tired of this shitty march towards Jackson. 

The shelter you found was of little use and you couldn't stay there for long for fear of riders or other intruders. Then something started happening to you. Joel noticed it immediately. You became quieter, and every time he pointed something out to you ended with a sarcastic comment or an angry look from you.

"Jesus, what's gotten into you..." Joel muttered once, irritated, and at his next remark you just shrugged your shoulders, mumbling something like "Whatever."

Your food supplies were dwindling, and the accommodations didn't allow you to rest. And that fucking weather. Joel knew exactly what was causing the bad moods. And he himself was becoming more grumpy and quiet.

When some buildings appeared on the horizon, you were already so tired that you didn't care anymore - you wanted to get there, hide and catch some sleep.

"It must have been a warehouse of nearby farms." Joel muttered, approaching the metal door.

"Do you think we'll find something to eat there?" Ellie asked hopefully.

Joel shrugged, he didn't want to tell her that he was counting on it too. He readied his weapon, and you did the same, Ellie was supposed to guard the entrance. There was a long, dark corridor in front of you. You both entered and your footsteps echoed quietly inside. 

Soon it got dark and you turned on your flashlights to illuminate the place. Every now and then you passed a door, which you pushed gently, but it was closed.

"Shit." you hissed again, and Joel felt his irritation reaching its limit.

“Stop following me.” he finally muttered, even though he knew it was pointless, he kept repeating that you should stick together "You're going to give me a heart attack."

“Oh, do you want me to walk beside you? Maybe hold hands with you?” you snorted ironically.

You couldn’t see his face well, but you were sure Joel rolled his eyes. He had been annoying you so much lately, that you wanted to get away from him for a moment. With relief, you noticed a corridor leading off to the right.

“I’m going this way.” you declared.

“We should stick together.” he hissed.

“You just told me to fuck off.” you said angrily. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“Whatever.”

Fuck. He watched as your flashlight flickered and you moved further and further away from him. If you survived this night and didn’t kill each other, or someone didn’t kill you, Joel would consider it a success.

The corridor continued for some time until he finally stopped in a large room. Overturned shelves, remnants of warehouse equipment, but silence reigned everywhere. On the other side he noticed another door, this time with a sign indicating the cafeteria. 

He was about to grab the door handle when he heard a strange noise from the other side. He put his working ear to the door and began to listen. A strange shuffling, something he couldn't identify. If those were clickers, then you were screwed. He didn't know where you were or if he would be able to find you fast enough.

Something slammed into the door, and then again. Joel adjusted his fingers on the rifle. He could take care of this quickly. If it was one or two clickers... Yeah, he should be able to handle it.

He grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, something fell out from behind it, and Joel aimed the barrel and...

You stared at him, and he saw surprise and fear in your eyes. He felt like something had cut off his power and his knees buckled.

"Fuck!" he groaned "I could have killed you!"

"After the last few days, I wouldn't be surprised." you replied, but you didn't sound too sure "I managed to get into this room, I wanted to get out and..."

Joel nodded, trying to calm his faster heartbeat. Then you lifted something you were holding in your hand. "Look what I found! It's not much, a few cans, but it's still something. I think it's some kind of soup, but I also saw risotto and some stew. Ellie will be happy."

You weren't wrong. As soon as you arranged your stay in one of the rooms, you started heating up what you found. 

When the warm meal filled your stomachs, you immediately felt better. Ellie quickly regained her good mood. Eventually, however, she started yawning. She squeezed herself into the sleeping bag somehow, mumbled a quiet "Night!" and soon you heard her soft breathing.

You took a few sips of tea and adjusted the blanket that was thrown over your shoulders. Joel was sitting against the wall. He stretched his long legs in front of him and folded his arms across his chest, you could see that he was slowly dozing off.

"You should get some sleep." You said quietly, he opened his eyelids lazily "I'll take the first watch."

"No need." he replied, but then yawned.

You chuckled. "Do you want to keep arguing?" he shook his head and reached for the blanket.

He finally laid down. "Sorry I tried to kill you. I thought it was infected."

You looked at him with a smile "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

He smiled and rubbed his eyelids with his hand. "Yeah, I'll try to remember that."

"Joel?" he looked at you once more, your face wasn't as tense anymore, you seemed more relaxed "I'm sorry I was such a bitch."

"It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

You both laughed quietly. The rain was pattering slower and slower on the roof and soon Joel's quiet snoring informed you that he had fallen asleep too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven

[nightlyrequiem]

first time requesting smth like ever so im nervous and took 15 minutes to press send and this is kinda super corny BUT 😞😞

angst where val is like holding her wife as wifey dies a death like sarah from tlou (look it up on yt if u dunno!!) cuz some guy shot her after he broke in or smth idfk u can pick but VALERIA ANGST ☝️‼️

Corny? Not at all. I LOVE me some angst. I think I made her a little OOC but she's always a little OOC in my writing anyway. Besides, grief makes people act differently. That's my excuse anyway

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Blood, Death, Unhappy Ending

The Next You Were Gone

You and Valeria argued. You were born with a... melancholic personality which means doing simple menial tasks are a little harder for you. You're prone to mood swings that last for weeks. Self-destructive behavior and an inability to get out of bed. Valeria loves you, faults and all, and contrary to what she said before she stormed out, you're not hard to love.

God, how she regrets saying that. You're not hard to love but you're a lot to handle. You're in a vulnerable state and looking towards her for help because that's what she presented herself as to you. As someone you can rely on. The image of your teary face begging her not to leave because you need her is seared into her mind. And yet, she left anyway. Shaking you off of her leg and slamming the door behind her.

She's back now. Fifteen minutes was all it took of the guilt to get to her. She smiles sadly and shakes her head. Valeria and guilt, and uncommon combo. You've turned her weak. Valeria parks her car and frowns. The door is wide open. She hopes you didn't wander off into the desert. If the boiling temperatures during the day don't kill you, the freezing ones at night will.

She gets out of her car and shuts the door. Anxiety settles in her gut. This doesn't feel right. Valeria walks inside and that feeling grows heavier. Drawers have been flung open and gutted of their possessions. Useless items thrown to the floor. She walks further into the house. Furniture has been turned over. She thinks maybe it could've been one of your outbursts. She turns the corner and stops dead in her tracks, heart dropping.

Your sprawled on the floor with an arm stretched out towards the bedroom. Dark blood pools from under you, soaking into the carpet. She rushes towards you and gently picks you up. Calling your name. You shiver and whine quietly, looking blanched.

"Fuck!" She says. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Valeria." You whimper, words slurred from the blood filling your mouth. It leaks from your lips and drips down your chin.

She moves her hand, seeing it come back red. Valeria looks down. You've been shot in the stomach.

"Valeria?" You cry weakly.

"Shh." She says, placing a hand on your cheek. Her eyes sting. "I need- I can.. I'm going to call someone okay? Just hang in there do that for me okay?" Her voice cracks. How long have you been laying in a puddle of your own blood? The sight shakes her more than she thought it would.

She tries to set you down but you grab her with surprising strength.

"Please don't leave me again, I'm sorry." You sob. "I'm sorry Val, don't leave, I'm scared."

Valeria's heart cracks at the desperation in your voice. "I'm not leaving, amor, I'm going to call for help." She runs a hand over the back of your head, smoothing your hair down. Her hand comes away wet with blood. "Just hold on, hold on. Please hold on." She whispers. 

You don't respond. Valeria feels panic setting her nerves on fire. 

"Hey," She shakes you gently. "Hey, open your eyes, talk to me."

For a few seconds Valeria believes you are dead. Then your eyes peel open.

"Oh god." She breathes. "Just talk to me. Talk."

You open your mouth, and a quiet cry escapes your lips. "I'm sorry!" You cry. Your gut-wrenching sobs stabbing her heart.

"Don't be sorry, this isn't your fault mi amor, I'm sorry for leaving." She says, her voice breaking.

She carefully lowers you to the floor and reluctantly gets up. Running to grab her phone that she forgot on the nightstand. She hurries back to you while dialing one of her medics. She can hear the urgency in her own voice as she tells him to come. She drops her phone and picks you back up. You're still.

"Amor?" she whispers, heart racing. She says your name with no response. "Hey." She shakes you. 

She shakes you again, harsher this time.

"Stay with me, please stay with me." She says, tearing up. "Please come back to me, I'm so sorry for everything, I'm so sorry!" Her hands shake as she holds you. She's never known pain this deep. You're still and you're not breathing but she stubbornly clings to hope that you're still in there.  She sets you down and begins pumping down on your chest, leaning down to blow air into your mouth between sobs.

She whispers unheard apologies and promises, tasting your death on her lips.

"Come back." She pleads, feeling your ribs crack. "Please come back. I'm not angry with you anymore, I won't leave you again." She swears. Salty tears rushing down her cheeks. She presses down on your chest again and again with the hopes of restarting your heart. Her ears ring and her vision tunnels. The only thing she can see is your face.

The medic arrives. Finding his boss covered in blood and wildly slamming her fists down onto a body. Her behavior unnerves him. He's never seen her so distressed. 

"Valeria." He says gently. She doesn't respond. The way the persons chest dips as she pushes down isn't right. He grabs her shoulder, and she slaps his hand away, turning to face him with an expression he never wants to see again. He gently grabs her and pulls her away. Valeria's entire body trembles. Her hands leave red prints on his clothes.

She's inconsolable. Sobbing into her hands as he does his best to revive you. He knows it's a lost cause the minute he sees you, but he doesn't know how Valeria will react if he doesn't try anyway. Your chest gives too easily, and there's a hole in your stomach. Even if the shot didn't kil you, you probably wouldn't have survived the shattered ribs Valeria gave you in her frenzy. Her sobs increase in volume the longer he continues. he stops, knowing that the only thing he's doing is damaging your ribs even further.

He turns to Valeria, feeling sorry for her.

"I'm sorry..." He says quietly.

"No." She snaps. Shoving him as she leans down to cradle you. She brushes her fingers over your forehead. Murmuring into your ear too quietly for him to hear.  Her shoulders shake as she presses her forehead to yours.

Valeria breathes you in.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers, as if sorry could undo all the bad. If only she hadn't stormed off, if only she hadn't argued with you in the first place, if only she loved you harder, if, if, if. You look so small in her arms. So lifeless. She kisses your temple. "I love you." She murmurs into your hair. "I love you so much. If only I could trade places with you I would. I'd trade it all if it meant you could be here breathing and smiling and alive." Valeria had very few good about her but there was still parts of her that shined through her carefully curated exterior. But as you lay in her arms she can feel those good parts leaving with you. How cruel you are. Forcing yourself into her life, making her love you.

And then leaving her alone again.

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go Part 3 - Chris sturniolo

a/n: oh hey pooks!! enjoy this little plot twist of a story

just go part 2 part 4

The morning after their confessions, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. You woke to an empty bed, the cool sheets where Chris had been, and the space beside you felt wider than it ever had before.

You tried not to panic, but the absence of his warmth was a jolt to your system. Last night had been perfect, filled with kisses that seemed to echo long after they’d stopped, confessions that had revealed more than just the depth of your attraction—but also the tenderness neither of you had dared admit. And now, Chris was gone. Not even a note. No trace.

You sat up, your pulse quickening. Did I do something wrong?

But then you saw it: a text from Chris.

Chris: Good morning, I’m sorry, I needed to clear my head. I’ll be back in a little while. Let’s talk then, okay?

Your fingers tightened around the phone. You weren’t sure if it was the coolness of the message, the sudden distance, or the lingering doubt that gnawed at your insides, but you felt an unsettling sensation creep up your spine.

Clear his head?

A million questions raced through your mind, none of them satisfying. And so, you did what you often did when your thoughts spiraled—you poured yourself a cup of coffee, letting the warmth fill your hands as you tried to regain your composure.

You hadn’t expected the vulnerability of last night to be so easily eclipsed by confusion. You had been so… raw. So real. What was he afraid of?

Just as you were starting to tell yourself to relax, to breathe, there was a knock on the door. Your heart leapt in your chest.

You rushed to answer it.

Standing in the doorway, your eyes briefly flickering with recognition before you masked it, was… not Chris.

It was Harper. Your best friend.

Harper stood there, looking a little out of breath, her dark hair slightly askew, her eyes wide with something between curiosity and concern.

“Hey, can I come in?” Harper’s tone was too casual, but her gaze kept darting behind you, as if searching for someone.

“Uh… sure,” you said, stepping aside. Your mind was still racing. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Harper stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She held something in her hand, a small, folded piece of paper. Your stomach tightened, and a sudden unease crept in.

Harper cleared her throat, glancing down at the paper before holding it out. “I, uh… I think you need to read this.”

You frowned, your heart pounding as you took the paper from Harper’s hand. You unfolded it slowly, your eyes scanning the words that felt like a punch to your gut:

y/n,

I never meant to hurt you, but you deserve the truth. What happened last night—what you think happened with me—wasn't real.

The attraction I felt wasn’t to you. It was to someone else. Someone you know. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I was trying to figure out how to navigate the mess of feelings I have for both of you. I can't keep pretending. I hope you understand why I left so suddenly.

I’ll always care for you. But not in the way you think. Please don’t hate me.

—Chris.

The world tilted.

Your knees buckled, and you sank into the nearest chair, holding the letter as if it might slip from your fingers at any moment. Your chest was tight, the breath caught in your throat. Not in the way you think.

What was this? You looked up at Harper, but your best friend’s face was unreadable.

“Harper, what is this?” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Is this some kind of joke? Because this… this doesn’t make sense. Chris and I… we were…” You trailed off, feeling your heartbeat hammer against your ribs.

Harper didn’t answer right away, her eyes flickering as if she was weighing something heavy on her mind. After a long moment, she took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you, but I think you need to hear this. Chris… Chris was never supposed to be with you.” Harper’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, but firm in the way she spoke the truth. “He came to me. Confessed everything. The attraction, the feelings he thought he had for you… but they were never really there.”

You blinked, trying to piece it together. “What are you talking about? Are you saying—”

Harper cut you off, her eyes filled with regret. “Look, I’m the one he’s in love with. Not you. It was always me.”

Your world collapsed. The ground beneath your feet felt like it was crumbling, but it wasn’t just your heartbreak you were feeling—it was the betrayal. Chris. And Harper. Your best friend and the man you had fallen for—how had they kept this from you?

Harper stepped forward, her eyes soft but laced with a sadness you had never seen before. "I’m sorry, I never meant for this to happen. But after last night… I couldn’t let him keep lying to you."

You stood up, your voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “So you and Chris? All of this was just some twisted game to you both? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Harper flinched but didn’t back down. “No, it wasn’t like that. I care about you. But I couldn’t watch him struggle like this, pretending he wanted something he didn’t.” She hesitated. “He tried to walk away from me. He even tried to convince himself it was you. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie anymore.”

Your mind was racing, every word, every memory of Chris replaying in your head—every kiss, every touch, all of it a lie.

But then, just as you were about to scream, to demand answers from both of them, there was a sudden knock at the door. A familiar knock.

Your heart stopped. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Chris.

Harper stiffened, her eyes darting toward the door, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught between rage and heartbreak.

This was a betrayal that ran deeper than you could’ve ever imagined. But Chris was standing there now, and somehow, this wasn’t over.

Not yet.

“Hey,” Chris’s voice called from the other side of the door. “I need to explain everything. Please, just let me—”

Before he could finish, you stormed toward the door, wrenching it open with every ounce of fury and heartbreak you could summon. You faced him, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything you had just learned.

“No,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “No more lies. No more pretending.”

Chris’s face fell. But just as you were about to speak again, he took a step closer. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to understand—”

But you stepped back. “I don’t need you to explain anything to me anymore. I need you to leave. And I need to find out who I really am without either of you.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but you turned away, slamming the door shut behind you, kicking both of them out.

You stood there for a long moment, breathing deeply, your hands trembling, and your heart shattering.

The love you thought was yours—was never yours to begin with.

And now, you had to figure out what came next.

a/n: oof the tensions hot.. i wonder what happens next, thats IF something happens next.

tag: @riggysworld