#at least they have that weird moment in the arena
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aang finds the mystery airbender in yu dao.
looking for the mystery airbender (whom toph had dubbed 'scruffy') wasn't what he'd came here for, but when he'd heard a rumor about an underground fighting ring, he had to come check it out. it was a weird place to find an airbender, but toph had been adamant that the guy was probably a regular on all kinds of circuits.
toph's description of him had been, understandably, vague. a little taller than sokka, but probably not much older. probably had short hair. uses dual dao. on the scrawny side. she'd heard someone say something about a scar once?
so when a swordsman wielding dual dao and sporting a nasty facial scar had stepped in to the arena, aang had leaned forward and paid close attention. his opponent was a firebender, who called themselves the scorcher or something, but he didn't really care about them. they'd introduced the swordsman as 'the blue spirit' which was a baffling nickname given that he was wearing mostly brown.
the fight started- and aang felt giddy.
they were an airbender. he wasn't at all familiar with the techniques he was using- but then, he was using airbending to supplement his sword skills, which wasn't exactly a technique he had cause to be familiar with. the airbenders he'd grown up around had never really needed to be so... well. aggressive, he guessed.
and the blue spirit was very much that.
he dominated the match- it was over in short order. aang felt some of his initial giddiness leave him in the process. he didn't like the look in the blue spirit's eyes- or that grin. he knew toph loved fighting too- and he didn't judge her for that (mostly)- but it was a little different to see it coming from an airbender.
as soon as the match was over, aang sprang to his feet and tried to follow the blue spirit. he must have realized he was tailing him, because he shook him off, disappearing after rounding a corner. aang jumped on a nearby roof to search for any trace of him, but he was just gone.
then he felt the swords against his throat.
"avatar," the blue spirit hissed, "-what do you want from me?"
aang held his hands up in surrender. hey, hold on. he didn't follow you because he wanted to fight you mister blue spirit sir. the blue spirit asks why he did then, and aang just frowns. if he knew he was the avatar, shouldn't the answer to that be obvious?
"you're an airbender," aang said, "-right?"
he swears he can hear the blue spirit roll his eyes, but at least he releases him. don't go spreading that around, he tells him. he also tells him has no interest in talking with him. if you're looking for another air nomad, you're in the wrong place. aang just frowns, and really looks at the blue spirit.
he looks almost... fire nation, he thinks. the burn scar is a nasty one, that took up no insignificant part of his face. it tugged at something in the back of aang's memory. like he was supposed to know this particular scar from somewhere, but where he was supposed to know it from was eluding him at the moment.
"but you're still an airbender," aang says, "-i thought i was the last one."
the blue spirit tells him he wants nothing to do with him.
it stings. he's finally found another airbender, and they're not at all what he was hoping for- and even worse, they don't even really seem to want to talk to him. the blue spirit takes a step back and makes it clear in no uncertain terms that he doesn't want to be followed, and aang forces himself to respect that.
(it's only after he describes the encounter to his friends, that it suddenly clicks why he feels like he should know that scar from somewhere. it's the one iroh had described to him- the one that belonged to a young man he was desperately trying to find now that the war was over.
his nephew.
no, aang thinks, no way. that can't be right. it has to be a coincidence. it's not like the missing prince of the fire nation- ozai's son- can really be an airbender, can he?)
you’ve done firebender/waterbender/earthbender/nonbender/avatar zuko, so what do you think of air bender zuko?
an excellent question!
love the idea of him existing in stark contrast to aang- they're both airbenders, but they're clearly on two very opposite sides of a spectrum. zuko realizes for himself just how much danger he would be in if anyone found out he was an airbender, so he successfully hides his bending- even when his father calls for a farce of an agni kai after he speaks out in the war meeting and burns his face and banishes him.
he still gives him the quest to find the avatar, but things go a little differently this time. zuko searches the air temples diligently for any trace of the avatar- but it's a lot harder for him to ignore the clear signs that history may not have actually played out like he was taught when he's an airbender too. one day he wakes up in the middle of the night with the realization that he doesn't want to go home.
he steals away in the night, not even telling his uncle.
he decides to actually start practicing his airbending, which basically just translates into him making it all up as he goes. in order to make money, he ends up participating in underground fighting tournaments- first just using his dao, and then quietly incorporating his airbending alongside them. inevitably rumors spread of a 'surviving' airbender, and that attracts all kinds of attention.
zuko doesn't care. he's having the time of his life actually.
(he is in fact, not having the time of his life. this is very much a maladaptive coping mechanism. but he's very good at fooling himself into thinking otherwise.)
he never stays in one place for too long, and is constantly on the move. there's always a new place for him to fight. sometimes he does a little light theft. he's definitely fought toph once or twice, who only actually realizes that he was probably an airbender after she meets aang- who is both thrilled to hear about another airbender and is deeply confused by the way toph describes him.
he doesn't understand. his people are supposed to be peaceful.
(zuko isn't one of his people, of course, but he has no way of knowing this. toph's the only one who has ever met him and she's well. blind.)
he winds up completely sitting out the entire war. he just doesn't care. post-war aang spends a lot of time trying to track down this rumored airbender after the war- and also prince zuko of the fire nation, iroh's nephew who went missing about a year into his banishment.
clearly these two tasks are unrelated, right?
#aang asks iroh about it later and he just gives him a long thoughtful look#the young man you met may have very well been my nephew young avatar#zuko's great-grandfather was avatar roku he says. on occasion those in an avatar's bloodline can be born bending a different element#welp. aang thinks. guess he can't respect the blue spirit's request to be left alone after all.
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I love tbosas movie so much (as much as it desperately needs that extra hour) but one thing I will NEVER forgive is them cutting my Favorite Sejanus line;
Coryo: "Do I look okay?"
Sejanus: "Gorgeous. Trust me, that lip is working for you, soldier."
#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#sejanus plinth#coriojanus#snowjanus#sejanus had a crush on that terrible man#idc#the hunger games#gay#at least they have that weird moment in the arena#where it looks like theyre about to make out#so it balances out#just a bit#yes this is a direct quote#quotes
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i dont think ive flat out drawn kikumitsu before but the beast awoke tonight i guess
#p3#persona 4 arena ultimax#p4au#mitsuru kirijo#kikuno saikawa#kikumitsu#kikuyukamitsu#<- mostly for organizational purposes on my part even if the stupid gay archer isnt anywhere to be seen.#quinn moment#quinn drawings#goinjg to be a weirdly long tag ramble sorry i have a lot of thoughts rn it is almost definitely because at the time of writing this its 3a#funfact kikunos back was arched at least like 30% more in the original sketch and i adjusted it after being like well thats scary actually#i produce A Lot about the kikuno/yukari aspect of kym because theyre by far the duo touched on the least in the polycule#i find their dynamic really weird and gay and funny so i doodle about it a lot#but it occurred to me i actually havent touched a whole hell of a lot on the kikumitsu side of things because imo they have the most#like...complicated thing going on?#special and particular relationship one that is beyond friendship. not even in the romantic sense its just that their roles and their#feelings towards each other transcend expectation.#in my little scenario its just really interesting to think about them navigating this shift in their bond. the deep feelings each one had#either set aside for ease or ignored in fear of misunderstanding. bits and pieces of themselves they opted to hide for their own or one#anothers protection. slowly bearing to one another that oh it was never just that i thought you were strong. it was never just that i wante#your happiness. i wanted to be by your side too. always. i am selfish underneath try as i might to never appear as such.#getting used to being able to want. getting used to knowing its not a bad thing to want. changing is scary but its good its ok#i get the impression theyre shy about each other. but also very eager. theyve been holding onto these pent up feelings for such a long time#that its only natural theyd want to be able to express them freely. but they have to take it bit by bit. save for moments where#it just becomes too much to bear i think? and they have to express it to each other immediately and desperately. which is what i wanted to#convey here i think.#god rest your soul if you read through all this it is sooo early in the morning and i have no reason to be getting this sick over#an obscure and underrated dynamic i dedicate unnecessary amounts of thought to
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UNTIL I FOUND YOU
PART 2, PART 3
Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader
Synopsis: When the 18 year old Coriolanus Snow recieves the news that he has to mentor a tribute in order to claim the Plinth Prize, he expected everything but not a shy girl from district 12 to claim his heart.
Word count: 2,4K
Warnings: Lucy Gray does not exsist in this (I´m sorry), some things might not fully add up to the movie plot ´cause I only saw it once and that was two days ago, use of Y/N, it´s implied that the reader is shorter than Coryo, small swearing, simple inhumane Hunger Games topics
Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))
Coriolanus Snow did not mean for this to happen.
He did not intend to have this weird tingly feeling in his chest every time he caught a glimpse of her.
He did not mean to fall for his tribute from District 12.
As he patiently sat in his seat with his heart hammering in his chest due to not knowing if he´d receive the scholarship, adrenaline and excitement ran through his veins.
Yet, that was taken from him the moment Sejanus Plinth whispered to him that that certain day he looked forward to would not turn out as he hoped.
The Plinth Prize was won by the best mentor.
Each of them has to mentor a tribute and create the best version of them, create strategies and work on their behavior in the arena.
As all the tributes are presented, their names called alongside their mentors, Coriolanus´ hands start to sweat the longer he is not told who he has to work with.
The faces of his fellow students show different emotions, some cheer in happiness at their tributes state, others are laced with worry if their tribute even manages to walk straight.
"And last but not least, the girl from District 12, Coriolanus Snow."
His eyes shoot back to the small screen, his gaze falls to the name written underneath the short clip, Y/N L/N.
"I volunteer as tribute."
The screen shows a screaming girl, around the age of 11 as she trashes in the hold of someone else´s arms, desperately trying to escape their grasp to reach the other girl.
The other girl's face is slightly blurred due to the wide angle of the camera that is following her figure, but as the picture clears up, Coriolanus can´t help but suck in a breath.
A weird feeling boils in his chest that causes his heartbeat to pick up behind his ribcage, just as he thought it couldn´t get worse a few butterflies form in his stomach causing his white tunic to suddenly feel tighter. His hands go to the collar pulling a little on the fabric to calm his heartbeat.
The tribute from 12, stepped in for the younger girl and took her fate as her own. The girl, now known as Y/N doesn´t look back at the screaming girl, she takes small steps to the stage and steps on it the moment she reaches it.
Although her hands tremble beside her body, her eyes are stern and show no emotion, successfully keeping herself from spilling the dread that formed in her chest the moment her little sister's name was called.
"What a twist! Our first ever volunteer of 12, what an honor." the 12´s mayor speaks, yet no reaction falls from the crowd at his attempt to lighten the mood.
"I suppose that was your sister? Sweet little thing just turned 12, but luckily she has you as her big sister." Mayor Lipp tries to create small talk, but Y/N doesn´t seem to take interest in that, her eyes boring into the camera that is fixated on her face.
Everyone that surrounds Coriolanus watches intensely and waits for her next words.
Y/N´s jaw clenches a little as her gaze wanders over her district's citizens, some laugh at her situation, while others, alongside her family have tears in their eyes and hold a hand in front of their mouths to contain a sob from spilling past their lips.
Instead of words leaving her mouth, she does a mocking and overly dramatic bend forward with her arms stretched out on each side of her body.
Just as two Peacekeepers grab a hold of her arms and pull her off the stage she yells out,
"YOU CAN ALL SUCK I-" but her words muffle due to her being pulled away.
Meanwhile, everyone around Coriolanus starts to whisper.
Some voice behind him, "Who does she think she is?"
"Imagine having to work with that, guess who won´t win the Plinth Prize.." followed by laughing.
And more to his left, "The audacity, I´m telling you she´s the first to bleed out." followed by more remarks and chuckles.
Though Coriolanus can’t feel bothered by their remarks, as he watches her being dragged away from the stage with a stern look on her face.
The blonde watches with bewilderment yet with respect for her volunteering for someone else, a small smirk forming on his face as the side of his mouth pull up a little.
* ˚ ✦
Coriolanus´ gaze is fixated on the white rose in his palms, his eyes trail over each and every flaw he can spot.
Is it pretty enough?
Or is this gesture not normal in the relationship between a mentor and their tribute?
He wonders how you might react to this act of politeness, yet before he can keep up with his thoughts he´s pulled out of it when he hears the train near the train station.
There it is, it glides against the train racks before it comes to a harsh stop with a small screech, the blonde´s eyes trail over the different train carts, wondering where the certain girl from 12 is being kept.
At least a dozen armed Peacekeepers emerge from around the station, and the first cart´s handle is grabbed forcefully and shoved open, a small girl hesitantly jumps down to the ground, before she erupts into a few coughs as if she has to catch her breath from taking a run.
She´s followed by a tall boy who wears a expression he can´t read, although his brows are furrowed and a small line forms between them. The tall male´s eyes immediately find Coriolanus due to his bloody red outfit.
The male doesn´t seem to be the only one, almost everyone that already emerged from their part of the train has their eyes on him.
He fidgets with the rose again, a shiver running down his spine and all the way to his feet and then his toes.
As some tributes are escorted to the transporter outside, Coriolanus finally spots the male tribute from District 12, he remembers his name, Jessup. With a sigh of relief, he takes a few steps to him, and finally, his eyes spot the girl he so desperately tried to find the entire time.
Jessup´s hands are securely wrapped around her waist as he picks her up and helps her out of the train so she can steady herself. She smiles up at Jessup whispers a small ´thanks´ and pats him on his upper arm before she starts to take in all her surroundings.
Although their conversation is muffled, "Are you sure your neck is fine? The bite looks painful..."
Coriolanus´ breathing stops for a second, just now he notices that no camera ever will be able to take in all her beauty, his lips part a little and he can feel his mouth running dry.
Now that Y/N dusted her clothes off and had taken a look around the train station, her eyes move to her right and are met with piercing blue orbs. Although she acknowledged him, he couldn´t help but keep staring at her, the white rose in his left hand long forgotten as it rested next to his body. Confusion dawned on her face as she looked over to Jessup who offered the same expression.
The two of them share a look with a shrug before she turns her back to Coriolanus and starts to take a few steps away from him.
The blonde seems to snap out of it and with a small shake of his head and with two steps he keeps up with her smaller ones.
"Uhm- Welcome to the Capitol." he offers her a smile and holds the rose up for her to see.
Her mouth set in a hard line while her cheeks glowed a tad bit redder than before, "You don´t look like you should be here…?" she asked unsure, her eyes still trained up at his face before they fell on the flower in his hand - which slightly started to tremble -
"Uhm, I shouldn´t, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and I´m your mentor," he adds, the smile still coating his lips as he offers her the rose again.
"Mentor?" she laughs out in disbelief after she finally takes the flower out of his trembling hand and looks at it. Jessup is standing behind her, and his face still shows the same confusion it did earlier.
"Yeah, it´s my job to help you survive the arena," Coriolanus replies, the moment she took the rose out of his grasp his hand went limp and fell back to his side.
"And how exactly-" Y/N doesn´t get the opportunity to reply to his words before someone roughly pulls on her arm and drags her forcefully to the exit of the train station.
Peacekeepers decided to cut their conversation short, they pulled her with them like she weighed nothing, "I can walk by myself perfectly fine." she said loudly before she slapped the hand that was wrapped around her biceps off.
"Wait! I´m her Mentor!" Coriolanus speaks up, yet the distance between mentor and tribute is growing with each second, and the blonde picks up his steps in order to keep up with them.
A few shouts and orders are ringing through the air, the atmosphere filled with dread and an uncomfortable tension. Outside awaits a transporter for the tributes, and like pigs they are thrown and shoved into it, ready to be taken to the slaughterhouse.
The district 12 girl's eyes are trailing behind her trying to catch a glimpse of the red that coats her so-called ´mentor´, she can´t seem to see him but his shouts still reach her ringing ears.
A small hand wraps around her right hand startling the 17-year-old girl, but she quickly relaxes when she sees the small girl from District 8, Wovey. She seems scared by the loud noises, and Y/N offers her a small smile and squeeze of the hand in order to calm her down. Y/N spots a small seat at the back right corner and leads her over to it, there´s not enough space for the both of them, so she lets Wovey take it and stands beside her.
Coriolanus´ opportunity seems to flash in front of him for a split second as a tribute tries to make a run for it, the Peacekeepers running close behind, and with three steps the blonde leaps into the back of the transporter.
He runs all the way to the back of it, before he takes a few breaths trying to tame the adrenaline that shoots through his veins, his breathing calming down from the small thrill he felt.
He straightens down his clothes, and immediately spots Y/N, hand-in-hand with the little girl, her eyes holding awe, yet mostly confusion at why he just ran after her. "What are you doing here?" she whisper-yells, in order not to attract the Peacekeeper's attention.
He can´t help but draw his lower lip between his teeth, letting his actions sink in "Yeah who the hell are you?"
"Uhm-" he starts to speak up, as the other tributes´ eyes hold anger and confusion, most of them standing up and taking a few steps closer to him, cornering him a little. The red that radiates from his red clothes alerts the others.
"I suppose he´s my mentor." Y/N quickly speaks up, her voice cutting through the tension that started to build itself.
"What the hell is a mentor? And why did you get one but we didn´t?"
"Did she get one just because she was the first to volunteer?"
Y/N opens her mouth again to reply but Coriolanus beats her to it, "No, you all get a mentor, I promise the same chances are laid out for everyone." he says with a slightly raised voice so everyone hears his words.
A few unamused chuckles emerge from the ´crowd´ that formed around him, nevertheless a tall guy grabs him by the collar and slams Coriolanus back against the wall behind him pulling a gasp from his lips.
"Don´t shit talk us, what are you doing here?! Are you here to spy on us? What sick games did you plan?!" he yells in his face, although Coriolanus is taller than him, he raises his hands in surrender in order to calm the angry tribute.
Y/N sighs and softly drops Wolvey´s hand onto the girl's lap, she takes a step forward rests her hand on the tribute´s shoulder gently yet harshly, and pushes against him.
"You get your own mentor, now drop it," she says loudly, the tributes around them purse their lips and keep looking at Coriolanus like he´s some meal they can devour.
"A Capitol´s sweetheart could be helpful, why not kill him to send a fucking message." everyone around them agrees except for Y/N and a few in the back, them equally as terrified as Coriolanus.
Coriolanus laughs at their ´plan´ and breathes out a few pained breathes due to him being pressed against the wall, however, before anyone else gets the chance to speak up, the container they are kept in starts to shake a little and then does a jump that causes everyone to lose their balance. The tribute that held the blonde up against the wall let go of him, the everyone including Coriolanus hold onto the nearest thing they could find to steady themselves.
Y/N yelps at the sudden movement that throws her forward and grabs onto Coriolanus´ right arm, the boy in question sneaks his right arm around her waist to steady her and takes hold of a handle that sticks out of the metal wall.
With a rumble and another much harsher shake of the container, the doors suddenly swing open and the place they were kept in for the past 10 minutes moves upwards, changing the position from vertical to horizontal.
A few screams erupt from the group of tributes, and everyone starts to slide out like bags of flour. Y/N yelps again and tries to hold onto Coriolanus, he manages to hold both of their weights, but Y/N´s grip on him loosens when she wiggles in his grasp.
"Wait- Y/N hold on!" he hisses out, but Y/N moves in his grasp trying to get a hold of Wovey´s hand who´s close to sliding down as well.
"Grab my hand!" she yells, but Wovey slips away, and Y/N watches the little girl and Jessup move out of her view into the unknown.
Y/N removes herself from his grasp, just as Coriolanus can´t hold them up anymore due to the shaking wagon, and they all slide into whatever the Capitol planned for them.
I might consider writing a second part! I hope you enjoyed reading this <33
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#x reader#part 2?#fanfic#hunger games x reader#finnick odair x reader#peeta mellark x reader
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BOY NEXT DOOR 11 - ( c.s )
part ten
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, starts fluffy (borderline cringe but get over it) and then smurtyyy baby ITS THE FINALE so enjoy
a/n: wow, a chapter coming to a close. you may get an epilogue…you may not…only time will tell. thank you to anyone who has supported me in general and especially on this specific series!! i had such a fun time with this concept and appreciate yall sticking it out with me fr <3
you’re really regretting your promise to chris now. it’s a day later and there’s less than an hour until the game, which is heightening your nerves like nothing else. you smooth your shaky hands over your sweatshirt, continually glancing over at your bed.
his jersey rests there, crisp and clean. it smells like him too; you picked up on the familiar scent when you were holding it in your hands earlier.
he left it in your mailbox, shooting you a vague text before heading up to the arena. though he didn’t tell you what he put in there in his message, you already knew. and you’ve been wrestling with how you want to play this ever since.
you got so comfortable wearing his stuff, especially to games, that it kind of feels weird not to. but you have a feeling that a lot more people know about what happened than you initially expected, which scares the shit out of you.
you suppose you have to get a little uncomfortable, though. it’s been so long since you’ve felt this way, since someone’s excited you, or even hurt you like this.
and it fucking sucked to be so disappointed. but you never ever thought you would bear witness to chris sturniolo saying his first real i love you, especially to you. it was maybe the one thing he could’ve done to convince you, because it was just so unexpected.
you already knew you loved him, so getting that confirmation from him first was huge.
you blow out a breath, still so antsy as you twist around, watching your reflection with a fierce intensity. nothing you’ve tried feels right, and it’s beyond frustrating.
just put it on. what’s the harm?
you’re tearing your hoodie off a moment later, tossing it to the floor as you reach for his jersey. it slips over your head perfectly, wrapping you in subtle hints of his cologne as you adjust it on your shoulders.
you can’t help but smile slightly as you glance in the mirror; if you ignore reality enough, it almost seems like you’re the same person you were a month ago; a blissfully ignorant girl supporting the boy she cared about.
cares about, your brain autocorrects you.
you never really stopped. you wouldn’t have gone over to his house yesterday in the first place if you truly had.
“hey, are you almost—” ramona stops dead in her tracks when she looks up from her feet, seeing you standing in the number 3.
you’re immediately ashamed, for whatever reason, like she caught you doing something wrong. part of it does feel wrong, and you’re about to say so. but then she smiles, like really smiles, and clasps her hands together happily. “finally!”
the reaction shocks you, to say the least, and you know it’s written all over your face. you shake your head a little, trying to find some way to ask her what she possibly means by that.
mona rolls her eyes at you playfully. “what, you thought i wouldn’t support you?”
you shrug, mouth still parted in surprise. you’re kind of smiling though; you’re happy she feels this way, you just weren’t necessarily expecting it.
plus, you didn’t actually tell them how you felt when you gave them the rundown last night after the bars, so neither of them could’ve known what you were experiencing. for the most part you were acting like it was strictly business or something, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“i don’t know what i thought, to be honest.” you finally say, shifting around on your feet uncomfortably.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
you sigh and mess with your hair a bit. “because it’s not, like, official or anything, and i’m still not even sure i want to wear this to the game. i was just putting it on, i guess.”
she nods, and you’re waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t. ramona just walks over, pulling you into her arms without another word.
you’re once again stunned, but in a pleasantly unanticipated way. you’re beyond tired of crying, but these tears are different. they’re happy, because you can feel your heart mending, and mona knows that too.
“you took the time, and i think you’re ready to forgive, angel. i can see it every time i look at you, that you’re still thinking of him, and that’s okay. he’s clearly been a fucking wreck, and i honestly believe he loves you because he would never utter those words if he didn’t.” she laughs into your hair slightly, and you can hear the emotion in her voice.
despite everything, you let out a breathy chuckle too. “you’re amazing, you know that? i really lucked the hell out with you.”
she pulls away, still smiling despite her shining eyes. you dab at your own, trying your best not to ruin the makeup you had so carefully applied half an hour earlier.
“i love you forever. cass and i just want to see you happy and i think being with him is what you want. so if it really is, you should wear it.” ramona gives the jersey a little tug.
you know you’re going to now, and you decide you don’t care what anyone else thinks about it. it’s between you and him, and if the people you trust most support you, then nothing else matters.
“i…i will. and thanks, really. you always help clear my head.” you nudge her a little with a grin.
“of course,” she wraps a hand around your arm so she can start pulling you toward the door, “now hurry up, because we’re on the verge of being late and cass is waiting!”
being away from the rink this long makes the lights somehow feel a hundred times brighter. they’re beating down on you as you and your roommates make your way to your seats, the same ones that you’d become accustomed to ever since that first game.
it’s been a while since you’ve felt quite this many eyes on you, and it’s insanely unsettling. you focus on navigating the steps below you, because you know if you don’t you’ll fall and make yourself look even worse.
it’s at least loud, considering they’ve got all the music going for warm ups. you’re glad you can’t hear the crowd of students whispering about how pathetic you are, or how stupid you’re acting.
maybe it’s true, but you’re beyond that now. you’re willing to get hurt again, even though you hope with all of your heart that the day never comes, because you’ll regret it forever if you don’t try.
people make mistakes. but they only get one chance to make it up in your book, and this is chris’s chance.
so you square your shoulders and try to wear the jersey with pride as you guys finally arrive in the front row, even though it’s difficult to act confident.
fake it till you make it, or whatever they say.
your eyes find him skating around almost immediately, like they’re just naturally drawn in his direction. you suppose that it shouldn’t be surprising, at least not after watching so many games.
the way he moves is different; he’s smooth, always one step ahead, like he’s playing an entirely different game. it’s easy to spot, because he’s somehow the most fluid and the most aggressive on the ice.
you watch as chris skates back to the blue line, circling their half of the rink while they all take practice shots. that’s when he looks over at your section, and you can see the relief wash over his face when he spots you.
he nods, and you can see a devilish smile forming on his face as he snaps the puck into the net once again. it makes you uneasy when the rest of the team starts to glance at you as well, only to look toward one another after like some sort of signal.
you try to shake it, pretend like your gut is completely wrong, and for a couple minutes you can. they stretch and do more drills and everything seems normal, or as normal as it can be right now.
until they all slow down, gathering around the bench one by one to create a warped huddle. the opposing team is skating off of the ice now with five minutes left of warmups, and you’ve never been more on edge. mona and cass aren’t paying enough attention, so when you look at them in alarm, they’re purely concerned.
“what? why does your face look like that?” cassidy questions.
before you can even begin to explain the weird feeling that’s settled in your bones, the entire BU team breaks as the lights shut off. you can hear the confused murmuring of the fans over the music, which is fading out slowly now.
each of them line up, getting into position as if they’ve practiced a hundred times, forming a pyramid shape in the middle of the ice. chris stands alone in the front, and there’s a microphone in his hand, and—oh god, fuck.
seconds later the spotlight flares over to shine on him, and even though you know there’s no way he can actually see with it directly in his eyes, it still feels like he’s looking right at you.
you watch him gulp nervously, and you’re just as terrified of whatever is coming next.
“uh—hi everyone. i’m your captain, chris, and i wanted to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight.” he starts off, trying to brush away his fear.
though the crowd is still obviously confused, they’re applauding regardless due to their special recognition. on the other hand remain completely still, trying to avoid panicking so publicly.
“what the fuck is he doing?” mona whisper shouts in your direction, and all you can do is shrug even though you know where he’s going with this.
somehow, you can just feel it in your gut.
“seriously, you guys are beyond amazing. you’re the reason playing here is so incredible,” chris smiles charmingly as the noise dies down, pausing dramatically for a moment before continuing, “but i’m actually standing out here tonight like an idiot because there’s somebody in this crowd that i need to apologize to.”
your stomach falls to your feet, and you can’t do anything besides stare out across the rink at him. he’s looking your way again, brilliant blue gaze still able to pick up on exactly where you are, and you feel a shock course through your veins.
“i did wrong by her, and i’ve been kicking myself every day since. she’s the most radiant and passionate person in every room, and she’s also the only reason i’m even here in this arena today. the truth is that i love her, which is why i think it’s time to turn the tables and embarrass myself a little bit to prove that. plus you guys get a heck of a show in the process.” he jokes, earning some apprehensive chuckles in response.
chris clears his throat, trying not to let his voice crack. despite what you think, he actually can see you through the brightness, which makes his heart leap to his throat. “so to the girl of my dreams, i’m sorry. and i hope this shows you that i meant it when i said i’d never stop fighting.”
every single part of you is screaming in a way you can’t explain; you’re completely entranced, but in the same way that people can’t look away from a car crash.
the audience chatters as the lights go out again, but it doesn’t take long before ain't too proud to beg starts playing to cut them off. you recognize it immediately, and now you can’t help but crack a smile.
this was the song you listened to most when you’d drive around in his car, singing along together with the heat blasting on your way to nowhere in particular. you can’t hear it anymore without thinking about him.
the stadium ignites in a dreamy red glow, and each member of the team begins skating in slow circles, kicking their feet out lightly to the rhythm. chris remains up front, gliding around as if he’s walking on clouds.
he tries not to look at you too much, because this moment is about putting himself on display, but his attention darts to you every couple of seconds. you’re clearly stunned, but he sees the small grin on your lips, and that lights the fire he needs to go all out.
“i know you wanna leave me, but i refuse to let you go,” chris begins, voice surprisingly strong as he glides around, “if i have to beg n’plead for your sympathy, i don’t mind ‘cause you mean that much to me.”
you can hear people starting to sing along, and you amaze yourself by joining in for the chorus as well. cassidy and ramona sway beside you, both shaking you lightly as they try to contain their shrieks of delight.
“ain’t too proud to beg, and you know it, please don’t leave me girl.” he belts out, unable to contain his happiness when he sees your reaction.
his team continues to dance on the rest of the ice, leaving the middle for him as they goof off, each adding their own personal flair to the simple choreography. you laugh when you see connor and ben doing the robot at each other, simply because they look so damn stupid.
“ain’t too proud to plead, baby baby, please don’t leave me girl.” chris holds the mic between both palms, shaking his hands in prayer as he skates backwards suavely.
the beat swells as the jazz blares through the speakers, and they all line up across the center of the ice. there are tears in your eyes as chris joins them, arms all linked over each others shoulders as they begin a rockette kick line.
despite how insanely unsafe it probably is to do on skates, they’re all killing it. the whole stadium is roaring now; laughter, cheers, chanting along, you name it. you’re amazed, eyes flashing along with the glowing atmosphere.
having him serenade you with this song, in front of all of these people, is something you never thought possible.
there’s an exhilarated expression on his face, still completely focused on you as he sings his heart out, and it makes you completely weak. his defined features are as striking as ever, cheeks flushed slightly from the adrenaline of it all.
he’s the same handsome boy you thought you knew, and yet here he is, surprising you again.
you’re bouncing around as the song nears the end, only for chris to come skating forward from the others so he can slide on his knees across the rink, headed your way. it’s so dramatic and so fucking silly that you’ve got a stitch in your side from laughing.
for a moment you just look at each other, separated only by the plexiglass wall, and everything else in your mind quiets. you no longer hear the anxious thoughts, or the crowd, or even your friends screaming beside you.
chris’s chest heaves as he finally relaxes, lowering his outstretched arms so that he can shrug bashfully, as if he’s asking you what you think.
you shrug back, but you’re beaming so hard that your true feelings are on display regardless. you can see his matching teary eyes, and truly for the very first time, neither of you care about anyone else.
he’s fucking whipped, and he’ll tell everyone in the world without a second thought. you’re certain of that now, and so is he.
finally, chris pushes himself up and holds the mic back to his mouth, one arm out as he waves to the sea of people. “thank you everyone! get loud tonight, and as always go terriers!”
they all skate off the ice, and you see his friends embracing him in excitement as they head back to the locker room. chris takes one final look over his shoulder, and you give him a wave of encouragement.
he disappears and your attention finally turns to your friends, their mouths still hanging open from the rather electrifying show.
“i can’t believe…i mean he just…” cassidy tries to form a sentence, but ends up pressing a hand to her lips instead.
“that kid is so fucking in love with you, wow.” ramona giggles to herself.
you’re about to object, but you know she’s right. and after that display, there’s certainly no point in arguing about it, because then you’d just be giving some shitty explanation.
before you can even start babbling, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you freeze again. you know who it is, but your heart is pounding against your ribcage as you check anyways.
chris
we’ll talk after?
it's the first text from him in weeks that you’re going to respond to, the first of many you suppose. that makes you smile as you type out an answer.
y/n
only if you win :)
and he does. he does win. in fact, chris went out there and played probably the best game of his entire career.
a hat trick, which he’s never done in his life, all for you.
the team is electric, and he knows the party will be coming back to his place as they all rage in the locker room after the game. it was incredible, and this moment with them is great, but the only person he wants to see is you.
so he slips into the hallway, already dialing your number as the door finally swings shut to contain some of the noise.
you pick up on the first ring.
“i won.” chris states immediately, and he can hear the grin in his own voice.
“you did.” you respond.
it’s a lame attempt at being coy, and you both know it. he leans his shoulder up against the wall, shaking his head even though you can’t see it.
“three goals was pretty impressive, huh? probably worth talking to me over, at least in my opinion.” chris teases, and your laugh gives him butterflies.
you glance over at your friends, who try to look busy as you all wait for the bus, though it’s very clear that they’re trying to eavesdrop. “i can’t disagree there, captain.”
he snorts before he can help it. “so does that mean you’re coming over?”
it seems like an eternity before you answer, even though it’s maybe five seconds total. “yeah, i’ll see you at home.”
when chris confronts the locker room once more he tries to part ways with everyone graciously, but they can see through him. he can’t get out of there quick enough, and yet everyone is just as excited to watch him leave.
none of them have ever seen him like this. he’s never seen himself like this, and despite being horrified of that in the past, there’s nothing holding him back anymore.
he tries not to get too antsy on the drive home, and you’re buzzing equally as much as you chat with your friends.
chris keeps working himself up even thinking about being close to you, about actually getting to belong to you. he’s missed having you in his hands, in the most innocent and sinful ways possible.
he beats you back by a few minutes, so he hangs around in the front yard like a dog, kicking at the dirt to try and distract himself.
by the time you come walking down the street, laughing along with cassidy and ramona, he feels like his heart is going haywire. your face coming into focus under the street light only makes it worse, because you look so damn perfect.
when you catch sight of him your expression transforms immediately; you’re somehow more visibly timid, but he can also tell that you’re dying to speak.
“‘sup chris?” cassidy nods, arms crossed over her chest as she turns with ramona toward their house.
“pleasure to see you ladies again.” he charms, giving a little two finger salute.
they both giggle and wave him off, whispering amongst themselves as they leave the two of you alone. its just like his first time ever laying eyes on you, because he’s equally as entranced as he was three years ago.
“hey.” he takes a couple steps forward, hands still in his pockets.
you can tell he’s actually a bit reserved, which surprises you. chris has always been good at reading you, at calling you out, and it’s hard to believe that he can’t pick up on the fact that you’re so far beyond gone.
“hi there.” you smile and get a little closer, and he almost falls to his knees.
a few more paces forward and you’d be face to face, so close that his nose would probably brush against yours. so he moves, one foot at a time, just to give you the opportunity to say no.
but you don’t, and you know that you never will, so you ask him the one question on your mind. “do you really want to talk?”
chris blushes for what seems like the millionth time, shaking his head slowly.
“what do you think?”
he’s towering over you a bit now, stopped only a couple inches away to keep some semblance of space. you don’t want it, and he doesn’t either, so you reel him flush against you by the waistband of his sweats.
“i think you should tell me you love me one more time.” you tease, drinking in the intoxicating smell of that goddamn dior.
chris leans in the rest of the way so his mouth is hovering over yours, even though it’s suffocating to do so. “i love you. i’ll say it as many times as ya like, princess.”
your stomach is flipping. you can’t help it anymore.
so you kiss him. you wrap your arm around his torso and you pull him as close as possible and you just fucking kiss him.
he’s already melting into you, hand tangling in your hair instinctively to tug. it’s sloppy, heated, everything you’ve been holding back for weeks. tasting your signature chapstick is enough to get him all bothered, to the point where it’s embarrassing.
it’s the start of something new, all while you’re standing in the same fucking driveway where this really began.
you pull away completely breathless, though you don’t wait to slip your hand into his. chris stumbles slightly over his feet as you pull him along, a little taken aback by the change in pace.
“what, can’t keep up?” you joke as you ascend the porch with him in tow.
he finds his balance quickly, though, hot on your heels now. his palm comes down to slap your ass playfully as you’re headed through the front door and you shriek out a laugh.
“i do just fine, thank you very much.”
he’s quick to reattach himself to you, so quick in fact that you’re barely able to close the door behind you.
it’s honestly hard to even get up to his room because of how much he’s all over you; kissing your neck from behind, running his hands over waist, dragging his fingers up and down every part of your body.
chris has missed you for too long to let any second go to waste. you’re giggling in between tiny little breaths of pleasure, attempting to hold them back some, but he wants to hear more.
you carelessly stagger into his room and he kicks the door shut behind him before breaking away. chris finally takes a moment to pause so that he can turn you around and admire you.
“you know what you do to me in that jersey, seeing you out there wearing my name.” chris growls, sliding his hands underneath the synthetic material to grip your warm skin.
you push your hips to him harder, smirking when you feel his hard-on press against your lower stomach. “mhmm, you gonna do anything about it before everyone gets back?”
his hands travel higher at this, skimming up the sides of your body as it bunches up around your chest. you get the message, so you lift your arms to help him take it off only for him to toss it to the floor a second later.
“fuck ‘em…i wanna take my time with you.” chris brushes your hair over your shoulder gently.
you try not to shiver. the anticipation is killing you as he cups the side of your neck, forcing you to retreat slowly until your legs meet his bed. his chest rises and falls heavily while he looks at you, familiarizing himself with every detail again.
you take the next step and sink down, laying your back against the mattress. your hair is like a halo around you, and chris shakes his head slightly.
his knee comes in between your legs to make room for himself, and you’re turned on just watching him devour you with his eyes.
“y’look like a fuckin’ angel.” he sighs, planting his arms by your shoulders so he can hover above you now.
you tilt your head, daring him to capture your lips again. “you gonna treat me like one?”
“long as you act like one.” he taunts back.
without a second thought you fasten your legs around his waist, pulling him right against your core so you can really feel. those tight little yoga pants don’t hide your warmth, and chris lets out an involuntary groan.
“fine, have it your way.”
he shifts his weight so he can wrap one hand around your throat, and the pressure is so enjoyable that you place your own palm over his to let him know it.
your other one travels to the back of his head, gripping his roots as his mouth connects with your neck harshly.
he’s leaving his mark again, not caring how childish it is to be putting hickies in this spot specifically. chris wants everyone to see them, to know that it’s real this time, and you’re his.
you selfishly don’t care either. neither of you have said the words yet, but you’re together, and it excites you that everyone will be able to look at the proof.
he lingers in every spot, working his way to your collarbone as he rocks against you. you’re a whining mess, his hard bulge rubbing against your center perfectly, and it only gets worse when the fingers around your neck move to squeeze your tits.
the fact that your bra is unlined makes it even more arousing, the lace brushing against your hardened nipple as he pinches one between his pointer and middle.
“missed you so much.” he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin while he drags his lips down further, sliding his body through your legs, “you were driving me insane.”
the kisses he presses against your stomach makes you tense slightly from the sheer amount of butterflies. chris gets closer and closer to the top of your pants, lowering his body far enough to kneel at the side of his bed.
he finally abandons his position briefly so he can look up at you through his lashes. you’ve never seen a prettier goddamn sight.
“tell me you need me, baby.” he challenges, and you’re dying to have him touching you again in any way.
“i need you, chris. so bad, please.” you beg, squirming slightly to try to get closer.
but he keeps you where you are, slowly pulling the silky material down your hips, mouth trailing along every part of you as he goes. you gasp at the sensation, only unhooking your ankles for a second to allow him to fully tug them off.
he doesn’t hesitate before he clutches the outside of both of your legs and tugs you toward his face, keeping them planted around his shoulders as his elbows dig into the mattress.
“that’s what i thought.” chris smirks, leaving more tantalizing kisses up the middle of your thighs.
your breath hitches the closer he gets, his stubble scraping your skin slightly as he ventures on. your fingers tangle in his roots when his lips finally trace along the seam of your panties, which are already humiliatingly damp.
one of his hands reaches further over your hips to shove them to the side, and feeling his fingers brush you even slightly makes you shudder just a bit.
“fucking do something.” you’re the one pleading now, though not as publicly.
chris’s laugh fans across your wetness, and goosebumps crawl their way up your skin.
“been waiting for those words.”
finally, he presses his lips against your core and you mutter a soft incoherent curse. his tongue slips out to glide across the delicate skin, for just long enough that your back arches off of the comforter.
he groans and you feel it vibrating right through you. chris has been craving you for so long, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be in this position again.
he’s already completely pussy-drunk, because his plan was to draw it out, really make you tick. but he can’t hold back; he got a taste and now he’s eating like it’s his last time, nose bumping your sensitive bud as he teases your entrance.
“shit—chris!” you cry out, gripping his hair harder in your knuckles.
he murmurs again in appreciation, because he’s always loved the feeling, and you quiver slightly from the sensation. it’s too much all at once and yet it’s never enough.
your legs instinctively tighten around his head as he works his tongue up and down fully, making sure he hits every tender spot over and over. it’s magic, however he does it.
you can feel the climax brewing in your stomach as your toes curl slightly, and chris notices your body beginning to shake more frequently.
it was gentle at first, but he’s since picked up the pace, forcing you to grind down on his face as he clutches your around his head. his fingers slide over a bit more, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves in consistent circles.
“oh fuck, gonna make me cum baby.” you barely manage to get it out between moans.
hearing you call him baby only spurs him on, his own erection begging to be freed as continues to work your cunt.
the combined pressure has you whimpering in satisfaction, head thrown back which you know is effectively messing up your hair. your eyes are screwed shut now, lips parted because you can’t seem to stop making noise.
“that’s it, sweetheart. you love my mouth so much, huh?” he pauses only for a second to goad, fingers still deliberately switching paces to draw out the ecstasy.
but then he buries his face again, flicking over your clit at the fastest speed of the night. it’s probably the most intense he’s ever been and you gasp, your breath catching in your throat before a loud whine escapes.
the stimulation is finally too much and you can’t hold back, muscles constricting as you reach your high.
chris doesn’t stop for the entire ride down, though his tongue does grow lazier as you finish for the first time of the night. he doesn’t want to let go of you, finally breaking his contact with your core only to press his wet lips against the inside of your thighs once again.
“jesus christ.” you pant, finally releasing his fluffy hair from your grip.
he chuckles slightly, peppering kisses across your legs until he’s content. “m’not done with you yet. strip.”
even though you’re still hazy from the first round, you’re surprisingly quick to follow direction. you arch your back more and unhook your frilly bra, chucking it somewhere behind you.
chris finally stands back up from his spot on the floor, and you make quick work pushing your underwear down your hips and kicking them off as he watches.
“look who’s finally listening.” he jokes with a grin.
you roll your eyes, and then a new impulse takes over; you want him to know who he belongs to now. so you sit up with him in between your legs, which surprises him enough that he’s still for a moment.
you take the opportunity to mess with the hem of his tee, slowly sliding your palms underneath and up his stomach.
“i showed you mine.” you hint, ghosting your lips over his now-exposed torso.
this time chris is the one obeying, pulling his shirt the rest of the way for you. his dick is right up against your chest, clearly straining through his sweats at this point.
you let your hands wander back down his body, nails skimming along his happy trail until you reach the top of his pants. he’s quick, yanking them down with his boxers and shoving both further away on his floor.
“really wanna ride you.” you whisper, palming him just enough.
he groans at the gentleness of your touch; he’s extra sensitive now that he’s completely exposed. precum is already leaking from his tip, so you swipe your thumb across it and his hips buck a bit in response.
you slide the slick across his shaft, pumping slowly because it’s your turn to provoke him.
“i’d literally do anything you asked.” chris can hear how weak his voice is as he caresses your hair, and he’s genuinely concerned that his eyes have permanently become hearts.
you look up at him, craning slightly to rest your cheek in his palm, and he swears he could cum right then until you pull your hand away.
“lay down.” your voice is low, sultry, and he’s hypnotized.
all he can do is move on your command, shifting past you to sprawl out across his bed, erection slapping against his waist. he barely has time to settle on his pillows before you’re crawling his direction, tossing a leg over his lap so that you can straddle him.
chris hisses out a prayer, hands going to your hips as your wetness comes in contact with his. you’re hovering, enticing him even more as you lightly slide against his base.
“quit—aahhh—teasing me.” he hums, grinding his own erection up against you harder to try and help himself out.
“can’t handle it?” you smirk, even though the truth is that neither of you can bear the torment of taking it slow.
“you’re a lot to handle.”
you know he’s messing around, but your palms press against his shoulders nonetheless so you can lift yourself a bit higher, which makes him whine in protest at the loss of contact.
you shake your head slightly, a patronizing grin finding finding its way to your face. “better get used to it, pretty boy.”
then one hand wraps around his pulsating cock, pressing his swollen head against your lips before you sink down onto it in its entirety. chris whimpers out a muddled sentence, and tight swears fumble out of your own throat as he stretches you out.
chris is overwhelmed by the rush of having you wrapped around him. you haven’t even started moving; you’re just letting him take it in, the same way that you are as he floods your senses.
“so goddamn perfect for me, fill me up so good.” you praise, finally starting to rock your hips at a grating speed.
the compliment gets to his head, and he didn’t think it was possible for you to turn him on more than you already do. he’s rutting into you seconds later, matching your pace instinctively just like you knew he would. you’ve never been bare with him like this, and you lean into the thrill as much as possible.
the passionate tempo helps ease you into his size, though you’ll admit you’ve missed the delicious sensation of having to break yourself in.
chris chokes on his breath, his fingers digging into your sides hard enough now to leave a bruise. “holy shit.”
his words spur you on and you start to really bounce, skin slapping skin as you both try to contain the sounds of pure bliss falling past your lips.
you spread your legs even wider, which allows you to feel every bulging inch of him pounding into you. your nails rake down his abdomen, leaving little lines of red in their wake.
he can’t get enough of the way you fold around him, and it finally crosses his mind that there’s nothing protecting you.
“condom.” chris grits through his teeth, not slowing his momentum despite what he just said.
“buy me a plan b after, need you raw.” you reply quickly, voice pinched as your chest heaves.
you’ve never been careless like this, and it definitely won’t happen again. but right now, having nothing standing between the two of you is all you’re craving. he’s relishing it, truly being skin to skin.
his hands travel to clutch the curve of your ass, helping slam you down so he can hit the right spot, and even now it’s still not close enough. he adores you too much; it’ll never be enough, because he’s always going to want more.
he’s gasping at this point, trying to keep his eyes open just so he can watch you in all your glory. it’s dim in his room and you’re perfectly backlit, tits bouncing as your hair flits around your face.
you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
every stroke feels better than the last, and your stomach flips each time he drives himself into that sensitive area. you’re clenching hard now, tugging on his cock rhythmically to the point where he’s twitching inside.
“oh-h my god, fuckin love you. my pretty girl.” chris groans, addicted to the excitement of saying it out loud.
that familiar fire burns in your gut, somehow more fierce than the first. you’re tensing again, trying not to get too careless with your pace as your whimpers grow in intensity.
“m’close—i can’t…” you stutter, brain jumbled with incoherent thoughts.
he props his own legs up slightly, using the last bit of his strength to buck into you. he draws out every last second, because he’d live right here forever if he could.
“give it to me, princess, don’t hold back.” chris prompts breathlessly, his vision blurring as his climax rapidly approaches.
your hips connect sloppily a few more times and it crashes over the both of you at once. the room echos with pants and moans of gratification, a thin layer of sweat painting your skin as you come down from your second orgasm of the night.
you feel him release too, painting your walls in a divine warmth that you’re not used to. you’re so strung out that even the tiniest bits of friction you’re still receiving have you gnawing on the inside of your cheek to control yourself.
finally both of your movements slow to a stop, letting the moment settle for a moment as you catch your breath.
you’re closer that you were before, practically chest to chest with him aside from your hands, so you tilt your forehead to his and give him a gentle peck.
“i’m obsessed.” he mumbles against your mouth before you pull away.
you smile, slowly shifting off of him so you can force yourself into the crook of his arm instead. “you’re just figuring that out now?”
“i always knew, trust me.” chris banters, wrapping his bicep around you to pull you tighter against his side.
you sigh as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “so this is real? we’re actually together?”
“if you’ll have me, but i’m yours either way.”
he’s so open, so quick to admit how he actually feels, and it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.
“good, because i’m kind of in love with you and i’ve never been a sharer.”
he chuckles at this, and it already feels so natural. everything has fallen into place, and you're just glad you’re not wasting any more time not experiencing this.
“but you’re not fully forgiven until you buy me that plan b, seriously.” you poke his side playfully and this time you both laugh.
“i think i can make that happen.” chris responds sarcastically, unable to fight the permanent smile that seems to be taking over his features.
every part of him is so content, and it’s the most alive he’s ever been. you bring him to life.
he’s not sure he’ll ever understand how he got lucky enough to fight his way back into your world, but he’ll never take it for granted.
it’s always been you, the bewitching girl next door.
@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @x0x0bunny @amelia-sturniolo3 @pvssychicken
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YOU ASKED FOR REQUESTS SO I HAVE ONEEEE
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rhea comes backstage with a bunch of adrenaline and decides she wants to go back to the hotel to celebrate 🤭 (maybe sprinkle some overstim and handcuffs like she used for nxt)
CUFFS
Rhea Ripley x Reader Summary: Rhea retains her title against four other women, surely there has to be a celebration? Notes and warnings: handcuffs, overstim (slightly??), cunnilingus, strap on, daddy kink, Rhea's a little unhinged?, I have this weird creepy fascination with Rhea's tongue piercing and I'm not sorry, Idk what else. I think I lost my writing charm y'all so bear with me :(
@rhea-ripley these gifs aren’t helping man..🥵
You had the biggest smile on your face as you saw rhea's riptide landing on the three other women that were ready to do anything to even get a look at rhea's title.
Backstage was pretty busy, only few crew members were actually tuning in instead of running around to make sure nothing goes wrong. But you? oh you were staring at the screen like your life depended on it. There was no way any of them would kick out of that even if they weren't on the receiving end of the riptide.
and you were right, as the ref counted to three and her theme hit, you jumped with a scream. Rhea has been..worried, to say the least the past few days, though she tried keeping the 'brutal and fearless' facade but you saw right through her.
The possibility of her losing the title she'd been working for the past three years without even getting pinned ate her up.
Your smile widened as you saw her walking in after the four women who were glaring at you, her black latex gear adding to her absolute sexiness. When your eyes met, you saw your Demi, not Rhea..not Mami (well, maybe that..)..Demi.
she walked up to you, stopping when you met her halfway with a hard kiss to her mouth, almost dropping her title at the sudden action. "hey, champ" you whispered.
"I did it.." she whispered back, hugging her title to her chest and you nodded, "and I wanna celebrate" she bit your ear before walking past you to the showers of the arena.
----
Rhea could barely let go of you long enough to swipe the keycard on the hotel room door, pulling you back into a kiss as soon as she saw the green light indicating the door was opened and pushed you inside.
"f..fuck, Rhea.." you groaned, taking a fistful of her dark moist hair as she buried her face into your neck, her t-shirt hugging her biceps so perfectly you kept squeezing on them.
you were pushed on the cold, comfy hotel bed and closed your eyes, eliciting a tutt from your girlfriend, "don't fall asleep on me now, i thought you wanted to celebrate with me" she coaxed.
Your eyes opened and you spread your legs, inviting her between them with a hum as she still stood next to the bed, "I do..i was having a moment" you grinned.
Both of your suitcases were long forgotten at the door even as you heard the clank of both metal handles as they fell to the floor from their weight and flinched from the sudden sound, making her laugh.
Rhea's hands were all over you like she hadn't seen you in days. She lifted your 'SHE'S MY MAMI' t-shirt with a grin, sticking out her tongue and taking a long swipe from your lower belly to the hem of your bra, husking out a chuckle at the shiver of your body from her tongue piercing tickling your skin.
“S..stop..teasing!” You groaned as she reached your neck, husking out another chuckle in your ear, one of her hands landing next to your head while the other effortlessly unbuttoned your jeans, unzipping them ever so slowly while those piercing eyes
"What is it, bunny? thought you liked my piercing..at least that's what you said the last time it was in your pu-"
"okay, okay.." a huff escaped your mouth, cupping her face as she stared at you with that sly grin of hers, "i get it.." you whispered.
she shook her head, leaning down to kiss you almost too softly, "do you?" her kisses went back to your neck, "hm?"
you said nothing, almost too hazed as her kisses worked you to oblivion even though you weren't even 10 minutes in. She has that effect on you, "I don't think you do" you heard before your jeans were swiftly pulled off your legs, leaving you in your panties shivering from the cold.
She dangled your jeans in front of you before throwing it behind her and finally raising your right leg to get more view of your absolutely soaked panties as you perked up on your elbows with a grin as she ran her fingers up and down.
You were getting a bit cocky as she got on her knees in front of the bed, but all that went out the window she took a long stripe with her tongue through your panties, her tongue piercing making you shiver as it touched you in all the right ways. "oh~" you heard as you threw your head back.
As you looked at her, you saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head, licking her lips. and the fact that she still hadn't taken off her makeup from the PPV makes her look even more feral.
her hands swiftly ripped apart the fabric that stood between her and your pussy, that she's convinced was calling out for her with how wet you were.
she took another stripe and groaned one more time before taking your clit into her mouth, you couldn't remember ever being this sensitive because of her tongue piercing, but when she stuck her tongue out to show off your slick coating it, you discovered she changed the ball of her piercing to this metal, bigger one.
"huh.." you huffed out, of course she did. "you taste so good, princess" she groaned, and before you knew it, her nose was pushing onto your clit while her tongue was all the way between your pussy lips.
"oh god!" you threw your head back as her fingers scratched down your inner thighs, moaning against you.
your hands searched for something to grab before landing on her head and pulling on her hair, her tongue exploring your insides while you writhed under her.
Your legs were already shaking and wrapped around her neck, trapping her in as her tongue mercilessly ate you out.
“God I’m so close..” you whimpered, almost pulling out Rhea’s hair, who didn’t seem to mind at all and even looked up at you with a smirk. It was almost embarrassing how close you actually were considering the two of you had just gotten started
her smudged purple eyeshadow glistened as she kept staring at you, eating you out like her life depended on it. "can feel you holding back..let go, baby" she mumbled before drilling her tongue back into you. One swipe of her thumb over your clit sent you over to cloud nine with a scream and your legs wrapped around her head even tighter, making her tap your thigh gently so she could breathe.
"S..sorry" you let out with a chuckle and she grinned, crawling upwards to kiss you and you hummed at your own taste on her lips, "don't you worry, baby" she husked out.
It wasn't even a minute later when you heard the clanking of metal and gasped as you looked at her, "Rhea, don't you dar- oh!" you were cut off by her flipping you on your belly so effortlessly.
Before you could catch your breath, your arms were joined behind your back and you felt the cold metal of the handcuffs wrapping around your wrists, “what the fuck?!” You yelled, barely able to move.
Both of Rhea’s hand landed on your cheeks, “shut up” she growled, “now you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock” you heard her zipper being undone, you should’ve known. Of course she was packing.
You turned your head with a grunt to look at her, seeing her lubing up the familiar black strap of her before spreading the rest of the lube in her hand on your pussy, inserting two fingers to make sure you’re all nice and ready before pushing her tip into you.
“Oh love, no amount of lube would be enough huh? You’re just so tight” she groaned, continuing to push in until her thighs made contact with your ass.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt her girthy strap filling you up, the ache of the handcuffs quickly forgotten as Rhea took hold of your wrists for balance before starting to pound into you in inhumane speed.
“D..don’t you lose that key, damn it!!” You yelled, making her thrust even harder to shut you up, “g..god..d..daddy” you began to slur your words.
She hummed in satisfaction, “that’s it..I don’t wanna hear anything other than ‘daddy’ as you come over and over again on my cock you hear me?” She growled, giving one particularly hard thrust to make sure you got it.
“Y…yeah..yes d..daddy” you gasped, you were still sensitive from your first orgasm yet she’s working you up so good your vision blurred.
Her breaths began to falter she continued pounding into you, “g..good..good girl” she whispered, the base of the strap touching her clit in all the right ways, “y..yeah..good girl”
Suddenly, her weight was entirely on top of you, not able to stay upright anymore. Her hips continued moving in and out and you were even closer to coming now that you could fear her lips and breath on your neck.
With one last thrust your legs shook under her as you gripped her hands that were still gripping your wrists from behind your back, the chain of the cuffs rattling around “g..god damn it!!” You yelled, your head falling on the bed as your orgasm washed over you.
Rhea kept going however, chasing her own orgasm that was ever so deliciously close. “R..Rhea..c..can’t” you whined but she shushed you.
“C..come on now, bunny..im so close..come with me. One more time, baby”
----
"Where did you even get those?" you grumbled, rubbing your wrists after Rhea uncuffed you.
"stole them from under the ring" she laughed, "you're lucky they had the keys attached to them cause I would've used them anyway" she said with a slap to your ass before getting up to fetch you some water.
This woman…
Taglist;
@ara-a-bird @jungwoospeach @neganwifey25-blog @yourmisosoup @cameronsdruthers @dementedtrashcat @1c4ntg3ty0u0ffmym1nd @sweety-jamieluvss @rebecca-quin @mega-met-44 @babybatlover @potatohead20 @charlieg1rl @marcelineormars
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Boring! / Masterlist
(part two here)
Playlist
pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
plot: despite being intimidated by your confidence, Eddie decides to try and talk to you (and it pays off)
warnings: drinking, men acting weird, reader being sure of herself and extroverted, Eddie being a little subby 'cause he's a cutie pie, making out, no smut
wc: 2.4k
inspo: this last week I have become obsessed with Lil Mariko's music, specifically Don't Touch, Boring, I'm Baby, Hi, I'm a Slut, etc. I was inspired by her attitude and her sound to create a reader that I don't ever see but want! I include some of her lyrics in here as dialogue so go check her out and support her thanks!
(can you tell I'm a slut for girlypop trap metal/screamo? also wow I love this so much)
Eddie was a sucker for going to parties alone.
It wasn’t like he tried to, but considering all his other friends ended up at other colleges, Eddie felt compelled to at least try to meet people. But it was for naught, just a bout of self-sabotage and eye rolls at himself. He would end up sitting by himself on a beer-stained couch, drink in one hand and a joint in another. Bitterly filling the house with smoke. And, Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even spoken to anyone.
But then…well…
“Wow, what a sad bitch. Too bad money can’t buy you a personality. I’d buy one for you, but I won’t. You’re just so fucking lame.”
You threw a drink in some guy’s face, laughing hysterically as you watched him practically growl in anger. With a hand on your hip, sharp nails grazing a short silk dress, you looked like a wild lioness in an arena. Like you were ready to take a bite out of this dude and revel in his blood. Chew on his pound of flesh.
“Slut!” he shouted.
“Awh, thank you!” you exclaimed, your grin almost maniacal. Glossed lips somehow glimmering in the dim lighting. “Too bad you have to fucking grope women in order to get one to notice you.” Another laugh left your lips. “I should get a goddamn restraining order on you, shitdick.”
It was in that moment that Eddie fell in love with you.
Well, okay, he didn’t actually fall in love with you. But, god, he knew he could.
You were just so sure of yourself, always in control of the situation at hand. A dominating presence that commanded whatever room you were in. It was this magnetism that drew him to you, never leaving his sight whenever you showed up.
No matter how many times he had a knee jerk reaction to get involved when men wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves, you were always one step ahead. He’d watched you slap someone, kick them in the shins, in the balls, and even landed a nice right hook. All in your short dresses and six-inch heels. All sparkly and put together.
It made him weak, utterly susceptible to whatever it is that made you so alluring. This feminine rage, this disdain at the idea that women couldn’t be impolite. You let it be known that that was far from your mind. It wasn’t even defiance—it was just you.
And no matter the genre, you were moving and laughing with your friends. Practically gassing each other up as you grinded on one another. Eddie would take another six puffs of his joint, trying to let the smoke billow enough that he wouldn’t keep checking you out. But it was to no avail.
It was this itch in his brain, something only you could scratch. And he didn’t even know your name. No knowledge of your major or your preferences or whether you’d think he was as pretty as he found you to be. He thought it would always be this way.
Until Eddie thought that enough was enough. It was another Saturday party that you’d shown up to. He was back on that couch, back in that uncomfortable, stuffy attitude. You were standing around with your friends, finishing off a red solo cup and reapplying lip gloss over your lipstick. Carefully, methodically.
It was a crime and he knew he needed to commit one himself before he’d regret it.
“Fuck it,” Eddie muttered, pushing himself off of the couch and heading towards you. Smoothed out his hair, checked to make sure he still smelled good. Made sure his rings were straightened.
It felt like some kind of fate, the way your friends moved over to refill their cups as he approached. How prophetic, being able to get your attention with just a turn of your head. Put your hands on your hips.
“Uh, hi,” he started, immediately resisting the urge to wince at his awkwardness. Where the hell was his game? Did it run away because it was you?
You tilted your head, looking him up and down before smiling. Smiling. “Hi, there.”
“I’m Eddie.”
You giggled, looking slightly confused as you gave him yours. But in the smile that came after, he could tell you were amused.
“Hi, Eddie,” you said after your introduction. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Well,” he started, trying to formulate a sentence. “I’ve seen you around and I thought you seemed cool.”
“Oh, yeah?” you egged on, raising an eyebrow.
He silently nodded.
“I like your tattoos,” you complimented, still grazing his body with your eyes, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie felt so exposed, so vulnerable to your gaze, nearly desperate for you to look him in the eye again. It would be easier than whatever you were starting to do to him.
But instead, you touched his left forearm arm and he froze. Literally froze.
“What’s this one all about?” you asked, tapping it with your pointer finger. Goosebumps flooded his arm as you traced it with the digit, your nail scratching at his skin. It was the most recent addition, a fiery red dragon with spurts of fire flicking off the sides and a black D20 wrapped inside its tail.
“Uh,” he started, blinking a few times as he tried to regain his composure. “I got it a few weeks ago. It’s, uh, a D&D thing?”
He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question but, to be honest, if you kept touching him like that, he was really going to embarrass himself. Well, not him. His dick. How pathetic.
Your eyebrows lifted again. “D&D?”
“Yeah, Dungeons & Dragons.”
“You know, I’ve heard of that,” you said with a small smile, removing your fingers before crossing your arms over your chest. Leaned back, sized him up. “But you should tell me more about it.”
“R-really?”
“Yeah, really,” you replied with a chuckle. “Tell me about this thing it’s holding. What is that?”
“Well, it’s called a D-Twenty. It’s a dice that has twenty sides and, like, when you roll it, you get any number between one and twenty. It’s one of those things where the dice have rules and if you get below a fourteen, you’re destined to fail but if you go above a fourteen, you’re more likely to succeed. But then if you get a one then it’s called, uh, a critical failure. Automatic fail, you know? But if you get a twenty—”
“Hold on,” you said, holding up your hand as you glanced behind him. “Give me a minute.”
Eddie watched you walk past him, frozen in place. He’d really lost his chance, hadn’t he? He should’ve known better than to let himself actually talk about D&D. It was stupid! Absolutely pointless! A girl like you would never want to listen to someone blabber about a fucking fantasy game.
He should’ve known better.
The sound of your heels felt deafening as you stalked up to a guy and snapped your fingers in his face. "You've been staring at me for, like, a fucking hour. Can I help you?” The guy just stared. “Like, what's your problem? If you get near me, if you try to touch me? I swear to god, shitdick, I will take my Louboutins and castrate you."
Blubbering like a goddamn fish, the dude scratched at his head, clearly trying to come up with some kind of retort. “Hey, don’t fucking say shit to me when you’re putting it all out there for free. You expect guys to not wanna fuck you when your ass is out?”
Eddie’s fists clenched, ready to throw a punch before you had him beat.
“Yawn,” you moaned, dramatically stretching your arms out like you were getting ready for bed. “Can you shut the fuck up? I’m falling asleep listening to you. You’re so fucking boring.”
He stopped talking. The douche bag actually stopped, opting to stare at you with wide eyes as you absolutely annihilated him.
“You’re just talking to yourself at this point. Like, seriously, you’re fucking boring. Don’t talk to me."
That was when Eddie turned away, reasoning with himself that he lost your interest. He was just gonna be next, another weirdo that didn’t deserve your time. And, to be fair, he’d get it. Hell, he’d leave you the fuck alone forever if you said so. But he still had a grip on his pride, tucking his tail and ready to flee.
Eddie nearly gasped as he felt a pull on one of his belt loops, unable to process in time when you tugged him back towards you, face dangerously close to his. Your eyes tracing the lines of his lips as he struggled to breathe.
"Excuse me?” you nearly whispered. “Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you were boring, did I?"
“Ah,” he breathed, his heart racing as your grip tightened on his jeans. “N-no, I guess not.”
That earned a smile from you. “Exactly,” you said, louder this time. “Keep talking, pretty boy.”
As Eddie kept explaining the dice, you took his hand, holding it over your shoulder as you guided him back over to that couch he had been sulking on. Not once did he stop rambling, feeling compelled as you gave him little “mhm”s and “oh, yeah?”s that sounded like goddamn moans.
Nearly pushed him down to the cushion, crossing your legs as you actively listened. Actively listened.
Only interrupting when you lightly touched his long locks and asked, “Is this okay?”
And he nodded, stunned at you asking for his permission. Then you were telling him to keep going. With your pretty fingers wrapping around one of his curls, eyes nearly starry as he went along.
God, where did you come from? And how could he ever be the same?
“You’re so cool,” you said when he’d finally decided to shut up. “Really smart.”
“Nah,” he scoffed, trying to keep the heat from rushing to his cheeks. “I just have, like, specific interests.”
“That you know everything about,” you pointed out, pressing your pointer finger to his cheek. “I don’t think I could memorize all of that.”
“Well, what do you like?” he asked, now feeling more sure of himself.
You chuckled. “Is this when you ask me what my major is?”
Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, all too aware of the stereotypical conversation starter. And to quote you earlier: Yawn.
“How many guys have tried that?” he wondered. “And how many did you kick in the face?”
That earned a grin from you, something all proud and appreciative. Like he cracked some goddamn code.
“Too many to count,” you responded, shaking your head. “But because I think you’re sweet, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m undecided. I think I could look into art history or literary analysis. I just want to make the right choice before I commit to it.”
Eddie nodded, feeling electricity begin to sparkle in his chest as you went into detail about your favorite female artists and poets, how you’d spent the last few months becoming obsessed with analysis. How you pictured it as a web of tangled strings that you meticulously unraveled.
And the more you talked, the more he yearned for you to keep going. Keep filling his head with your thoughts and ideas.
Then you said the one thing that brought him to nirvana.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked.
“Absolutely,” he answered immediately.
And then your lips were on his.
And it was a magical experience to have your lipstick flood his mouth, growing feverish as the flavor faded and he could now only taste you.
Now, Eddie didn’t consider himself to be submissive, per se. But he certainly had no problem letting you lead the way, wrapping his curls in your fingers, your nails, and tugging him wherever you wanted. Gnashing teeth, the little moan that escaped your mouth as your tongue curled around his.
And if his boner hadn’t been visible before, he knew damn well it was now, especially when your other hand met the back of his neck, your nails painstakingly slow as they scraped down to his shoulders. A whine left his lips, all shaky and high-pitched. A fucking whine in the middle of some party at some loser’s house.
But it only drove you further, biting his lips and whispering, “That’s a good boy, hm?”
He gasped. And as if you knew the embarrassment was starting to pool in his stomach, you threw your leg over his waist and returned the noise. Moved your lips to his jaw and raked your teeth over his neck.
And when Eddie had enough strength to open his eyes, he nearly groaned again at your exposed thigh, dress rising up over the curl of your ass. But Eddie felt nervous to touch you, felt nervous to let himself indulge. Not when you hadn’t given permission.
You weren’t delicate, he knew this. A woman with the power and grace of royalty, waltzing around parties with all that intelligence; all that bark that also bites.
He wanted you to be his.
Putting his hand on your shoulder, you backed away. Stared up at him through your eyelashes, lipstick smothered around your mouth.
“I, um, I know, like, you may want to go somewhere, but,” Eddie began to stutter, trying to get the blood away from his cock. Focus, focus. “I’d rather take you out on a date first.”
And that’s when he saw you grin. It wasn’t all dominant and flirty. No, it was something genuine, all bashful with your shoulders turning inward. Was he…did his words leave you shy?
“You want to take me out on a date?” you asked.
“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”
“Um, I’d really like that,” you said with a nod. “Keep telling me about that game, though,” you demanded lightly, taking your thumb and attempting to wipe your lipstick from his mouth. He started to try and return the gesture, causing you to giggle. “‘Cause I have some very important questions.”
The rest of the night and early morning was spent spilling knowledge into one another, always listening. Always finding each other’s lips again, quiet whispers of Is this okay? and You taste really nice and Would you keep talking?
When the night ended and he drove you back to your dorm, you made a promise of dinner and a trip around a museum. Made him promise you three times before he gave you a wink and a chuckle.
And it sounded damn near crazy, but maybe Eddie really was in love.
thank you for the lovely divider @strangergraphics :')
#Eddie munson x reader#eddie munson/reader#Eddie munson x you#Eddie munson/you#Eddie x you#Eddie x reader#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson x y/n#Eddie Munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#one of my favs I've written!!!!#boring! series
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oneshot one four three ❤️🩹
pairing — paige bueckers x fem!reader
content & warnings — "four years of heavy hearts and unspoken words meet in the gampel pavilion parking lot, rehashing old wounds" , uhm just poorly written angst sorry...
word count: 1.9k , notes @ the end (i'm sorry for this)
[PRESENT DAY, 30 SECONDS AGO]
“I just wanted you to know.”
It’s been four years. Four years of pain you thought you numbed. You thought you numbed. Because now that wound in your heart you had tried so hard to ignore felt fresh all over again.
[4 YEARS AGO]
Maybe you should’ve seen it coming. Maybe you did see it coming. Doesn’t make reality hurt any less. That’s just the harsh truth. Paige’s life was changing, her future having so much in store for her. A future that you aren’t in.
She left for Connecticut two hours ago. Her last message to you was five minutes ago.
paige :) 9:13PM
Boarding now
I’m sorry
You blocked her number after staring at the message for another five. Childish, sure, but so was your hoping things would work out for you. Hoping long distance would work out. But Paige was barely out of state and look where you were now. A sick game it is, love. Not fit for childish hopes.
[PRESENT DAY, 2.5 HOURS AGO]
“Please! It’ll be fun I swear!” Your best friend begged. She’s been begging you to go with her to a UConn basketball game. You would but you got off a plane not even two hours ago and entry to the game venue was in less than one. But your best friend is nothing if not persistent and you relent to her continuous pleas.
Within 45 minutes you’ve showered, picked out an appropriate outfit, and done minimal makeup. You wanted to look at least a little more presentable.
Your best friend, Elsie, rushes you out to her car to drive you to the UConn campus from her apartment. She hops out of the car excitedly, telling you all about the friends that let her know about this game. You nod to the sound of her voice but you don’t pay attention to the words she’s saying.
This is a women’s basketball game. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until Elsie looks at you and says, “Duh,” with a weird expression on her face.
You don’t say anything but silently, you dread every step closer you take to the arena, knowing what (or who) you’ll probably be facing in a matter of minutes.
Elsie spots her UConn friends near the entrance to Gampel Pavilion and runs excitedly up to them, waving you over quickly when she notices you didn’t follow her. You walk behind the small group of girls quietly, having said minimal introductions. The place is already packed and buzzing with energy as soon as you step inside.
You follow the way to a registry table and then to your seats. It’ll still be a few minutes until the athletes come out so you take that precious time to calm your nerves. Elsie notices you breathing heavily and shaking your leg and sends you a concerned look. It snaps you back into a more normal state. You were probably worrying for nothing.
Except when the UConn Women’s Basketball team, or more specifically, a certain blonde on the team, emerges from the tunnels, the stands erupting in cheers, people clapping loudly next to you, it feels like the world stops to lend you that moment of time to feel everything again.
[4 YEARS AGO]
“You could’ve told me sooner.” Your voice was eerily quiet. It unsettled Paige only because she thought you’d be yelling at her. You wanted to, you wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at her but you couldn’t. The only display of emotion coming from your otherwise stoic face were the quiet falls of tears coming from your tired eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“You let me hope, Paige. You let me hope like an idiot in love that you would choose to stay. Or at the very least, be willing to keep me in your life!” The last sentence rising in volume as you finally felt the anger take over.
She was committed to the University of Connecticut, a thousand miles away from where you currently were in Minnesota. That wasn’t the part that made you angry. You were angry that she had waited until months after she told you where she committed that she couldn’t do long distance.
Your chest burned and your throat constricted with all feelings of grief and anger. Bile rose faster than the words you wanted to scream at her, leaving you speechless.
Paige was quiet herself, too ashamed to say anything further. “I hope everything goes well for you in Connecticut.”
And then you walked out of her house, a red tinge in your eyes and an ugly feeling in your heart.
[PRESENT DAY, 2 HOURS AGO]
Paige ran out with that buzzed feeling running through her. It felt like her veins were electric currents. The crowds cheered loudly upon seeing her and she loved playing into it too much, her teammates smirking at her.
They announced the starting lineups and within a matter of minutes the first quarter to the game had begun with the tip-off.
The game felt good. Paige felt in her element and the the crowds felt energized. It was shaping up to be a great game for the Huskies. For Paige especially. She sank a good number of her three attempts, getting her teammates some assists, making most of her free throws.
By the fourth and final quarter, UConn was up by 11. Their momentum hadn’t slowed down and every player that got to play got a decent amount of points by the end making a decisive victory with the Huskies up by 18 points in the end.
Paige was on a high even after almost everyone had cleared out. She felt amazing, like she could do anything.
Fate has a funny way of testing her.
[PRESENT DAY, 30 MINUTES AGO]
The game ended well. You did enjoy watching (if you count out all the times your eyes drifted to Paige, which in your defense, is hard since she is kind of their star player, which was a lot of times so maybe you didn’t enjoy watching as much you thought) and maybe you’d watch another one (if even thinking about basketball didn’t bring back painful memories).
One of Elsie’s friends was still inside the venue talking with some other people and you were waiting outside for her since she needed a ride home. Elsie was just recapping all the moments she loved from the game and you did your best to agree and respond as enthusiastically. If she noticed you were forcing it, she didn’t say anything.
A door opens and you instinctively turn to where the sound came from. At first, you don’t register who walks out properly because of the canopy of darkness from the night sky.
Then your eyes meet hers and you both freeze. One could argue it’s from the chilly breeze but anyone with two, even one, functioning eyes would be able to tell something was off.
You turn back around quickly, trying to push Paige out of your mind which was much harder now that she was standing the closest she has to you in years. Your attempts are completely futile when you feel a presence behind you and Elsie is making a face at you to turn around.
Reluctantly, you do. And you think you can hear your heart crack like porcelain.
She looks good even in her tracksuit. She still has the same blonde hair and dark roots. The same piercing blue eyes. She still makes you feel the same things she did four years ago. Although now there are more painful undertones as you take her in.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, not accusatory, just in genuine question. It takes you a second to reply back, kind of in shock that she was talking to you again.
“I’m- I’m visiting my friend,” you point over your shoulder to Elsie who waves before turning to walk away, pretending to be on her phone. You’ve told her bits and pieces of your history with Paige but she’s never gotten the whole picture. Whether it was because “it wasn’t that serious” or it hurt too bad (it’s the latter), you’re sure Elsie’s probably figured out the answer herself by now
Paige nods. Neither of you say another word for a solid minute, just standing there quietly, looking at each other. Wondering if this is real life.
Paige isn’t even sure why or how she ended up here, she only vaguely remembers her feet carrying her over like there aren't four years and paragraphs of unspoken words between you two.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until Paige’s hand instinctively reaches out to wipe the droplets away before stopping herself, knowing that that’s probably inappropriate to do now. Every fiber of your being wishes she didn’t because you’d have let. You’d have let her do whatever, no matter how reckless.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. It’s so faint you have to strain to hear it. “Why are you apologizing again?”
“Because I still don’t think I’ve said it enough. I really am sorry.”
You only sigh but add a nod along with it. “It’s okay.” Except it really isn’t. Somehow the pain is worse than the first time she said it. All you want at this moment is for the pain to stop. For Paige to not say anything further for fear it’ll only make it worse.
But she has a knack for doing the opposite of what you want.
“I’m not sure I should even be saying this, or even be here really, but I regret doing what I did to you. I regret it so much.”
“So why did you do it? Why’d you let me believe we could work it out? That you’d let me be there for you? I was willing, Paige.” Quiet sobs wracked your body, threatening to get louder as she stays silent again.
She’s crying now too. Paige contemplates what to say next, trying to gather her thoughts but that’s the thing about you, she’s never been able to think properly around you. So she blurts whatever response her brain conjures up.
“I was scared.”
“Scared? Scared of what?”
“Of the possibilities.” She’s quiet. You’re quiet. Dead silence falls between you two.
“You think I wasn’t too? I was so terrified of all the things that could go wrong. But I loved you enough to not care, even when you chose the possibility I was the most scared of.” Anger flooded your body again. This was so unfair.
“Everyday I wish it wasn’t the one I chose. But I got in my head and didn’t want to lose you while we were thousands of miles apart.” The “so I lost you while we were three feet apart” hangs in the air.
Nothing else comes out of your mouth. You’re too tired for this conversation.
[PRESENT DAY, 1 MINUTE AGO]
You thought when you walked away that day four years ago would be the worst pain you’ve ever felt. That turned out to be a lie as thirteen words fell from Paige’s lips.
She didn’t say anything else but as the final blow to your already worn out heart, she lets herself hold you in her arms, giving a light kiss to your temple before walking away to her car.
You sobbed dryly as she drove off, the last words she said to you ringing in your ears.
“I still love you. I never stopped. I just wanted you to know.”
🔖 — day two! chose a pretty vague prompt and went angsty with it. idk how to feel about this honestly i hope my angsty writing improves... lmk how you liked it! thank you sm for reading 🤍
#✮ litfiction#✮ c says#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#uconn x reader#uconn huskies#wcbb#angst#paige bueckers angst
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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚; 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
Being The Daughter of The Orgre Is Difficult, Especially When It Comes to Dating.
It was a struggle, dating that is. Throughout your life, there’s always been something that causes boys to run away from you, both literally and figuratively. Though the actual running died off as you got older, instead, they’d just look you up and down and chuckle, whispering something to their friends before walking off. During those times, you wished they’d just run away screaming their heads off, that way they wouldn’t bruise your ego with harsh words and nasty stares.
This wasn’t that big of a deal, at least when you were young. In your early years, you were far more concerned wondering what your mama was going to cook for dinner, or how far you’d make it on the monkey bars (you always did all of them, no question about it), so you didn’t really recognize this aversion boys had for you. If you did, then you just didn’t care. The idea of romance was clearly not on your mind as a seven-year-old.
But, just like most girls, you grew up. Your body began to change and morph into that of a woman, albeit an awkward one, but a woman nonetheless. You were getting older, changing, and noticing how society viewed you differently, not just because you were a woman, but because you were… well… you.
Of course, being a girl in this world put you in an interesting position, seeing how society had certain expectations of you, even though you were still so young and oh-so dumb. How can one expect someone so young, who hasn’t even lived for two decades, to know if she wants to birth a whole human? Let alone have more than one! The judgments didn’t stop there. There were constant stares, constant whisperings, and rumors going around that you weren’t a girl, instead, you were some old man disguised as a girl because there was no way a girl could ever look like that. Because there was no way a girl could ever carry that much, or run that fast, or act like that.
There was no way that you were a girl.
And so, not only did boys avoid you, but so did girls. Most people deemed you to be weird, abnormal, and frankly a little scary. The way you were framed, carried yourself, and looked was just too odd not to stare, not to gawk, and not to talk about. You were just so strong, so capable of crushing a bone to dust, and everyone knew.
Everyone knew that you were strong, not just by looks, but from personal experiences. You excelled in the physical arena and somewhat advanced in academics as well, but you really stood out on the court, field, or really anywhere where physical strength and agility were required. Even without thinking, you were capable of so much, so much more than everyone combined. You didn’t need to do anything, simply flicking a baseball would send it further than any major league ever has, or kicking a soccer ball into the atmosphere with a flick of your ankle. Yeah… your teacher knew that whenever you were put into a game, he wasn’t going to get a ball back, so you weren’t.
Simple as that, you weren’t allowed to do anything, too harsh, too strong for everyone else. Your teachers knew it, your classmates knew it, and you knew it.
So naturally you were a repellent when it came to dating, not that you’re interested or anything. For sure, you’ve never thought of holding a boy's hand, or running your fingers through their hair while they rested on your muscular thighs, or going out to eat together, or going to the movies, or-
Okay, maybe you’ve thought about it… but that’s normal! Everyone, at some point, wishes for some type of intimacy, right? Was it wrong that you wanted a boyfriend?
No, it wasn’t, so when the foreign exchange student’s eyes met yours, you were a lost cause. At that moment, when he first walked into the room, taller than the average man, seemingly calm but a little lost, you were a goner. You were not obsessed, but extremely attracted to him. He was so different, and he didn’t know anything about your feats in strength, or how you may have broken an arm or two when you were younger…
He was your fresh start, your chance of having some normalcy throughout your chaotic life of training and searching for victory over it. Ah, right… You forget about it sometimes, how it’s stare seemingly never leaves, always observing, watching, and calculating. At certain times, you feel as if you’re on TV or something, as if you’re about to be PUNK’D. It never happens though... At this point, you’ve gotten used to it, accepting it, and now searching for it.
Throughout your life, this thing, creature, man, or government has always watched over you, leaving you some money to pay the month’s expenses, keeping food on your table, and seemingly encouraging you to buy some heavier weights, which you ignore. Rather than the occasional envelope with cash on your doorstep or maybe the occasional fighter sent your way, who you suspected was sent by this thing, there was no contact between you and this creature. You didn’t know it’s name, why it’s doing this, or how it knows you. And it’s always been that way, and you’ve accepted it in your life, deeming that you’d crush it anyway. You never thought it’d ever reach out to you.
And let’s just say you were in shock when you were given a note, a piece of paper lying on your dingy, kitchen table. Though it was just a piece of paper, it was so intimidating, so threatening that you couldn’t help but lose your breath at the sight of it. It’s not that you’re scared of paper, but instead, what was written on it.
After seventeen years, what could it possibly have to say? Almost in the blink of an eye, you were standing over the paper. It was fancy, you noted, picking it up as you examined it, not even reading it. It was quality paper, as much quality paper can be, and it had a little emblem in the corner. That piqued your interest, getting closer you gasped, throwing the paper onto the table.
Why the hell is the 5-7 Paulownia seal on this stupid paper? Picking the paper back up, you let your finger graze over the seal, solidifying that it was in fact the seal of the Japanese government. With a sigh, you decided to read the paper, trying to ignore that whatever has been watching you has some type of power in the government, especially if they have access to this type of material.
.
.
.
Stop with this girly bullshit. You’re a Hanma, you don’t settle, so quit it with that blondie and get used to it. Y.H.
Huh? Who knew such few words could cause so much turmoil? After all these years, this is the most you’ve ever heard from this thing, who may or may not be a government official, and happens to be an asshole as well. You couldn’t help but clench your jaw, crumbling up the paper as you threw it into the trash, not thinking twice. Grumbling under your breath, you rolled your eyes, deciding to cook some dinner.
Who was this guy, and you assume it’s a guy because no woman would say that type of shit, to order you around as if he’s your dad?
Hanma, you think to yourself, sitting down with a bowl of soba in front of you, Pretty sure that’s the name of that one fighter… You looked up in thought, stirring the noodles mindlessly, feeling as if there was more to the thought, but you didn't get to finish it.
Knock
Great, who could that be? To your surprise, and your heart's demise, you’re met with the so-called “blondie.” You smile, feeling yourself go weak in the knees as you looked him, creating some small chit-chat, feeling time fly quickly. And you almost cry when he asks you out, questioning your sanity when he tucks some hair behind your ear before walking away. You can’t even remember what he said anymore, was it the aquarium? Or was it the park? You, honestly, don’t care, just too giddy to express a coherent thought.
The note no longer on your mind once you sat down, smiling at the bowl, mindlessly stirring as you sighed. For the first time ever, you finally have a shot with someone, someone who doesn’t care about how strong you are, how you look, or how others think about you. He doesn’t care if you’re taller, stronger, and could honestly beat his ass, he likes you.
So caught up in your thoughts, that you completely miss the dark aura looming through the window. A man with crimson hair, flowing down his back, and twirling through the wind as his bloodlust seeps throughout the city. His smile taut as he clenched his jaw, watching from afar as his kin wandered down the wrong path, not even paying any mind to his warnings, his cautions. Brown eyes trailed the figure of a giddy blonde, who pumped his fist in the air, too happy to acknowledge any peering eyes.
With a sigh, the monster of a man followed after the stupid schoolboy. If no one was going to listen to him, then he’d just have to take action, wouldn’t he? After all, what kind of father would he be if he let his only daughter mingle with such pests who couldn’t even bruise her pinkie finger?
What a stupid girl, He thinks as the breaking of bones and squealing gets lost in empty air, a disappointed frown seeping into his features.
#no proofreading we die like men#i headcanon that yujiro has the best fucking handwriting you've ever seen#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere male#bad writing#baki the grappler#baki dou#baki yujiro#baki son of ogre#baki hanma#jack hanma#baki headcanons#baki the grappler x reader#yujiro hanma#hanma yujiro#hanma x reader#it's shit don't @ me#platonic#platonic love(not rlly love but idc)
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Yandere!Killua: Throughout the years
Request: I love how you write yandere killua! What if yandere killua met reader during the Hunter exam and reader stuck with killua and gon up until gon and killua separated? What would yandere killua do? (Sorry if this sounds weird English is not my first language)
Uh, so you survived all that... Somehow... But fret not! We will see how the story will end.
So you met during the hunter exam, and travelled along with the boys. Stuck with them through all the dangers and challenges. You´re a good friend. You know it. And they know it too, even if they don´t always show it. Gon too hot-headed, honest and protective. Killua calm and collected. His affection always a quiet thing. Easily overlooked. Gone by unnoticed.
For Killua it wasn´t love at first glance. Not even second. Or third...
He didn´t even care about you during the hunter exam. Yes, you were his age. Sure. But the other boy, that bright and cheerful one, was just so much more interesting to him.
When you follow Gon to Kukuru Mountain, Killua just looks at you.
„Oh and you! It was..., it was-“
He pauses, and with a sigh you tell him your name again. It stings a bit because he at least somewhat remembered the names of the others, but you don´t take it to heart.
Killua watches you afterwards. He remembers your name. Takes great care to use it. His mouth sometimes stumbling over the pronunciation, but most of the time, he gets it right.
Heavens Arena is hard for you. Senseless fighting with no purpose. While the boys advance quickly, you´re slow.
In his brutal way he gives you advice. Though, you can´t be quite sure, that he isn´t insulting you half of the time.
„You have to aim right there. See? And stop hesitating! Got it, you wimp!“
The relationship between the two of you is rough. Gon is quite literally the only thing holding this fragile group together.
It fits then, that at Whale Island, you learn to understand Killua better. He becomes softer as well. Less abrasive. He learns to understand you as well.
You leave that Island, this small family, maybe even this little safe harbour, that you can see yourself returning too, stronger. Your group is not on the verge of falling apart any more. You started to understand each other. Just a bit more
„Here..., for you. From Mito“
When you leave and the wind whips through the sails, you turn to grin at Killua, who is already looking at you. His smile bright, in that secretive way it curls around his mouth, and his eyes are electric.
Yorktown is great.
Until it isn´t.
You had stayed with Leorio. Your mind at least marginally better with numbers than Gon, but your skills in stealth worse than both of theirs. A group of two was safer. At least, it was supposed to be
Leorio looks at you, his question more of a statement, which you can only confirm. Even though hours passed, you still haven´t heard anything from them.
It´s difficult to stays calm, while their lives are in danger. Kurapika is the one, that blocks your every attempt at helping. One day you might thank him for staying stubborn, today you want to strangle him for it.
You crunch numbers with Zepile instead. Your fingers shaking, and that man, this stranger, looking at you with pity. You are more than tempted to wipe his pity from his face. Just because you´re young doesn´t mean, you couldn´t wipe the floor with him in your sleep.
But your skill set isn´t specialised enough to be of any help to your friends at the moment. You always had been a jack of all trades, rather than the master of one. This had served you well, when you had travelled by yourself.
When they all come back, healthy and alive, Killua cracks some awful joke at you. You nearly knock his lights out.
„What was that for!“
And that was that.
While you haven´t earned enough to have a chance at bidding on the game, you can at least get Gon his hunter license back, and have more money than you started with. You ignore it, when Zepile grins at you. Yeah, you truly have a head for numbers.
Somehow you still get into the game. Your aura is twisting differently around you now. You kind of hate it.
It takes time for you to truly understand the purpose of the game, no matter how often Killua tries it to explain it to you and Gon, who is just as confused as you are. But the longer you think about it, the clearer it becomes to you, that this is the perfect game for hunters.
And so you start to collect cards. You deal with Bisky, who is far more focused on the boys than you, only when you have to. Still you learn the basics, and you are good at them. It feels great to learn this, far better, than what you had to push for to get the chance to join this game.
The encounter with Razor, especially when compared to the lacklustre challenges of the other pirates, is utterly terrifying. You feel the ball flying towards you, know that you can´t stop it, and that it will have reached you before you could ever completely move out of it´s way.
„Watch out! Are you alright?“
It never hits you, you´re on the floor already. You simply let yourself drop as if dead. Your t-shirt is torn. You´re the first one to stand outside. Killua is closer to you, than before but you wave him away. You watch the rest of the game with held breath.
In the end, no one got too badly hurt. You bandage Killuas hand. Cursing lowly, the stupidity of both the boys. You feel bile rise in your throat, after you genuinely thank Hisoka for his help. You hate it.
It´s almost too easy to figure out a plan to contain the Bombers. Still you aren´t surprised, that Gon doesn´t listen. No plan survives first contact with him. You are slowly getting used to it.
The quiz is easy. You whisper answers into Gons ear. Not minding to forfeit your chance. This game was a playground made for him by his father. Maybe you´re a bit jealous, but you push it away.
You don´t notice how Killua looks at you. How he started to look at you in the past few months. You won´t notice for the following months either.
Kite is... strange? Gon seems to like him and that is good enough for you. The concept of the Chimera Ant on the other hand still sends shiver down your spine. You feel vindicated in your fear, when you see the leg. And even more so, when you hear the rumour that some hunters never came back from NGL while they were on a trip to search for some new species.
It doesn´t take long for you to put one and one together.
You go with them regardless. NGL it is. Giant humanoid man-eating chimera ants are the least you are expecting and you don´t get disappointed. And Kite he is... you don´t know.
You covered the retreat of the boys, making sure that nothing would jump out at Killua as he was carrying Gon. To get attacked here and now would be a disaster. Especially because Kite isn´t around any more.
You hold Killua hand, as you leave, and slowly pull him into a hug as you wait.
„I-, I couldn´t- How could I keep you safe, when I-“
Only when the car arrives you shush him, standing up to greet the Chairman. It´s with a calm you didn´t know you had, that you explain your situation. You catch the pieces thrown at you with a glare. He laughs and if you could, you would love to hit him. But you can´t. You know it.
The drive back is hard. And the next few days are even harder
When Killua isn´t hanging around Gon, he suddenly clings to you
He has never been all that affectionate, but suddenly he is. And you can´t help but worry about it
Though something changes in Killua after the loss and Gons... date
He kisses you for the first time, presses his lips to your forehead. With him being that close, you can see the traces of dried blood on his forehead
„I´m so glad I could prove it to myself to stay. I promised it! I promised.“
You just grin at him. No clue what he´s actually meaning in that moment. Why wouldn´t he stay after all. Aren´t you friends?
They find Kite. Your world breaks. And he tries to hold it together. But even Killua is unable to be in two places at the same time.
You go back to the place of horrors. And you all split up.
It´s lonely. It´s dangerous. And you hate every second of it.
You worry when they build that plan. You know it will fail. And inevitably it does.
The plaza is your battle ground. The masses easier to deal with than the highly specialised royal guards. You will not give those ants even the smallest change to backstab one of your team
You leave behind burnt earth
„Why would he-? Why would he even do this! You didn´t see how he looked at me! How he said my name!“
Killua cries again into your shoulder, and you can´t help yourself but to awkwardly pat his back. Gon is dying. No, at this point, he´s already as good as dead.
He stops suddenly, you are still watching the steady beeping of the monitor by the hospital bed. Killua is mumbling to himself, and you slowly stand up to walk away. Maybe down there, they sell chocolate. You know, he needs some
When you come back, one of Killuas prized Chocolate Robots in hand, he is brushing past you. Eyes cold and hardened. You simply push the treat into his hands, as you sit back down on the bench to watch Gon
„There is still something left. There is still something that can help him“
Your „Good Luck“ is whispered to an empty hall and unhearing ears.
He returns a day or two later, with a girl by his side. Her eyes are wide, and you can recognize Killua in the slope of her nose, in the curl of her mouth when she shyly grins at you.
You wave back at her with your own smile, then turn back to Gon.
When Killua fiddles with the door to the intensive care unit, you make your way to distract any personnel that might come your way.
In the end, you wouldn´t have needed to bother with it
The nen, that spreads over the hospital quickly and violently, steals all air from your lungs. Your bones creak under the sudden pressure, and you let out an hysteric peal of laughter when it finally stops again. You are pretty sure, you just looked death in the face. Again.
Your steps are slow to return back to the room, but you do it regardless of the fear you just felt. When you turn the corner, Killua is hugging his sister, there are tears running down her face
You let them be, and instead turn once more to Gon. A grin spreads over your face, and you laugh
„Told you, I would fix him!“
You throw your arms around Killua, and he quickly spins you around. The both of you are grinning at each other. It´s a manic feeling, that makes you pull the girl into the hug, and whisper a pained and sincere „Thank you“ into her hair, as you press a kiss upon the crown of her head
Eventually though, this leads to the moment where you have to say goodbye. Two years have passed, before you knew it. You cried. You laughed. You nearly died. You found the best friends, that exist upon this world. You lived.
Gon is the first one to go. His father won´t wait for him too long, and he has to hurry. You watch him sprint away. You try not to cry. Even though, you are sure, that this is the last time you will see him
Then you turn towards Killua, who is shuffling from side to side, while looking around. One of his arms is protectively thrown over his little sisters – Alluka – neck. You know, that he has to leave too. His older brother is after him. Or rather after Alluka
You open your arms to him, and he pulls you close. You don´t promise anything to each other. The silence to heavy to break. It´s him, that pulls away in the end, and turns to leave. He grabs Allukas hand, as he waves at you without looking back
And before you know it, he vanishes into the crowd.
Two years of your life. Gone. Just like that.
Tears are running down your face, and you sniffle quietly.
„Farewell, dear.“
Time to go, huh...
Author Notes: This is not quite what was requested but there is a reason for that. If you meet in that journey, and take it completely with him: You have to part ways with him at the end. You only play a secondary role for his development.
The Hunter Exam is the first time Killua finds a friend. He is far more fixated on Gon, than anyone else. It takes time for him to open up to you. And so he doesn´t for a long time. He bases his emotional relationships of whatever he has with Gon. So it takes a while, to apply those experiences and emotions to you as well. This is a three-way friendship. You are all friends! And all are a little bit twisted. A little bit strange. And that is okay!
The ending might hurt, but this is what I truly believe needs to happen. Gon has to leave at the end, but so do you. Killua had time to explore, that emotional avenue with two strangers, that he truly treasures at the end. Now he needs to figure out, how to be family and a protector to Alluka. Gons goal united you for so long. Killua finally finds a goal to follow. And you? You need to spread your wings as well. You need to find your own path. And I´m sure you will.
Good Luck out there! And hey, maybe this isn´t the last time you saw Killua.
#yandere#yandere killua#xreader#hunter x hunter#hxh#killua zoldyck#yandere headcanon#killua headcanons#killua x reader#yandere hunter x hunter
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Neck Kisses (Katniss/Peeta)
Summary: Peeta gives Katniss kisses over the years. (Week #4 of @august-anon's Tickletober prompts!! I've never written a Hunger Games fic before so let me know if y'all like it and/or want to see more!!)
The lights are blinding, and Katniss is struggling to keep that fake smile on her face. They’ve been standing, taking photos, being gawked at for what has felt like years.
Cinna has dressed her in gold. Peeta’s suit matches perfectly. He does look handsome, but she isn’t sure the color really does him any favors: The shimmer pops on her skin tone, compliments her dark hair and eyes, but Peeta’s pale and blonde and would probably suit silver more, she thinks. Not that she knows anything about fashion, nor does she care about how Peeta dresses. She only cares about how he’ll fight in the arena, and how his hand around her waist right now is really irritating. She wants nothing more than to shrug him off, to roll her eyes right at those cameras, to take all the stupid pins out of her hair.
Instead, she just stands and tries to look pretty.
Peeta’s head moves in her peripheral vision and she shoots him a confused glance, and then twitches when he presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder where the dress has left her skin exposed. No one has ever kissed her there, and goosebumps immediately spread over her skin. It doesn’t feel bad, but she still digs her elbow into his side in retaliation anyway, because he could have at least warned her that he and Haymitch were upping the affection quota.
When they’re finally free from the cameras and lights, and Katniss has shed most of her ridiculous outfit, Peeta comes and sits beside her, away from prying eyes.
“Sorry I kissed your shoulder,” he says, avoiding her eyes. “Haymitch and Effie have been trying to get me to…sell this whole love story thing. I should have asked you if that was okay first, I just had the idea in the moment and went for it.”
Katniss looks him up and down, the shyness in his body language and the genuinity in his tone, and her hard expression softens just a little. “It’s fine. Just…warn me next time.”
He nods, offering her a little smile. Then, after a moment of comfortable silence, he asks: “Did it tickle?”
“What?”
“When I kissed you. It seemed like it tickled.”
Katniss does roll her eyes now, ignoring the way her face feels suddenly warm under his scrutiny. “No, it just felt weird. And I wasn’t expecting it.”
Peeta has this stupid smile on his face that makes Katniss want to punch him. But, there are rules about tributes fighting, and she also doesn’t think she could really hurt him when he looks so innocent, so…She huffs and gets to her feet.
“So, you aren’t ticklish? I just think if we’re going to be allies, I should know your weaknesses, you know?” Peeta says, and he’s fully grinning now.
“Goodnight, Peeta,” she replies, refusing to turn back and let him see the way her lips have started to curl. Watching him try to find the light, the humor in this all, to get to know her even though it’s probable he will have to kill her…Well, those thoughts dampen her mood quite quickly.
The truth is, she is ticklish. Most of her experience with tickling has been her tickling Prim, and sometimes Gale tickling her, but she always fights him tooth and nail when he does it. He’s usually all rough hands squeezing her sides and scribbling behind her knees. What Peeta had done was different, it was gentle and made her stomach flutter…She supposes it would have felt nice, if they had been alone, and she had known he was going to do it, and could have prepared.
She falls asleep trying to ignore the little voice in her mind that wants him to do it again.
***
The sound of birds chirping outside the window is what wakes her.
Katniss blinks against the sunshine seeping into the room, and settles comfortably into Peeta’s arms that are wrapped around her waist. The morning is still, the children still sleeping instead of climbing into their bed with excited babbling as they do most mornings.
Peeta begins to stir beside her, and Katniss finds herself smiling as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “Morning,” he mumbles.
“Morning,” she replies softly.
Peeta’s lips press a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder, and then continues to pepper those little kisses up to her jaw and back down again. She’s giggling in seconds, having been unprepared for such antics so early. She’s still stubborn as she was as a scrappy teenager in the Seam, and normally when Peeta tickles her, she holds her laughter in and fights back, turning the tables or running off into the grass. She doesn’t have that chance now, lovingly encased in his arms and still too sleepy to launch an escape plan.
She doesn’t even remember the first time he pressed his lips there, back before the first Games, on that stage with the blinding lights. That feels lifetimes away, has been buried under much worse memories, forgotten. They are making new memories now, better ones.
“Peeta, we’ll wake them,” she says, trying to keep her giggling to a low volume.
Peeta just grins. “They’ll be up soon anyway.”
And with that, he starts tickling her belly with ten fast fingers, and Katniss has no choice but to dissolve into laughter. It isn’t long until the children are roused by the sound, curious as to what their mama could be finding so funny.
Now, she starts her day with genuine smiles, laughter, and love.
#everlark#everlark flufff#everlark fanfiction#everlark fic#the hunger games#thg tickle#thg tickling#the hunger games tickle fic#the hunger games ticklefic#tickle fic#ticklefic#augtickletober2024#tickletober 2024#tickletober#raspberry writes
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My Chemical Romance - Frank Iero interview with Bobby from thepunksite.com
May 19th, 2005 Rexall Place - Edmonton, Alberta
As My Chemical Romance passed through Edmonton as the sole opener for the Green Day North American tour, Frank Iero was nice enough to sit down with me and answer a few questions. He was really cool and gave some intelligent answers and made for a great interview. My friend Jacey helped with some questions and pops in a few times during the interview. Thanks a lot to Frank for doing the interview and to Laura for setting it up. Enjoy!
Please Note: All pictures were taken, without permission, from the band’s site.
Bobby: Starting with the simple questions, you guys have been touring with Green Day for quite a while now. How has that been going?
Frank: Oh man, it’s been amazing. I can’t believe tomorrows our last day. It’s one of those things that you get the phone call, and since you were thirteen you wanted to tour with Green Day, at least play a show or see them or something; and when they ask you to tour with them, it kind of blows your mind. You don’t think that they are asking the right band. But this tour has been amazing. We’ve go to hang out with our heroes who treat us like peers. And we get to watch Green Day every night, so that’s pretty cool.
Bobby: Has there been any really memorable moments from it so far?
Frank: Ah man, there’s so many. I mean, the shows are just insane. The shows are unlike any shows we’ve ever played. The kids are great. In fact, it shows that we’ve been playing really well because it takes a while to get used to an arena, you know? But there’s also other memorable stuff that we’ve done outside of the show on the tour. Just hanging out. Like we all went to go see Star Wars together, the other day we went to a Water Park in town. You know what I’m talking about? That was ridiculous.
Bobby/Jacey: Yeah. The one in the mall?
Frank: Yeah, that one. They take us on dates and stuff, it’s really cool.
Bobby: How did you end up getting the opening spot? Like did they just call you, or what?
Frank: Basically, that’s how it happened. The way things work is that a tour will be planned for a headlining band. And then support bands will submit for the tour and say “Hey, we’d love to go out with you”, you know, “consider us.” So I guess we submitted for it, and they picked us. It was ridiculous too because there’s only two bands and that’s really unheard of these days. Usually it’s like a three band bill, four band bill. And for us just to be us and Green Day… It’s not like they picked us because they needed us to sell tickets or something, like they didn’t need us at all. They just liked our band, and that was really flattering.
Bobby: You guys also recently ended the Taste of Chaos tour with The Used. How was that?
Frank: That was fun. That tour was really different because it was a lot of bands that we had toured with back in the day. Bands like Underoath, Senses Fail, and A Static Lullaby we tour with… I guess two years ago and we were doing hundred person rooms, three hundred person rooms. And The Used we toured with a bunch. So it was like all our friends getting together. And when all our friends got together, we could play arenas; and that was really weird. We’d all kind of look at each other and say “Is this real?” But I guess that’s the beauty of it.
Bobby: On the tour, for your encore you guys and The Used did a cover of Queen and David Bowie’s “Under Pressure” and now you are selling it on iTunes. Why did you decide to do that song?
Frank: Well, it was one of those things that Bert brought up and said “I really want to cover this song; I think it would be awesome if both our bands did it.” And we were like “O yeah, that’s rad!” We love Queen. We love David Bowie. But a lot of things in the industry happen where it’s like “Let’s do this!” and then it never happens. So I guess fortunately, and unfortunately… Unfortunately the tragedy happened and fortunately the song came into fruition because we wanted to do something for the disaster. So I think that kind of sparked it. We recorded our parts in L.A. right before we did the “Helena” video; and the Used did, I think, some of it in L.A. and I think Bert recorded his vocals in England. So it was weird, we were never in the same room or anything like that when we did the song. So the first time we ever did it live was a test. We did it once or twice, and they were gonna film a DVD for the tour and were like “O, it would be great if you guys both did it because you’re both here, it would be really cool.” And we’re like “Alright, we’ll try it.” We were excited to play anyway and then it was just one of those things where it was just fun to do every night, so we just did it.
Bobby: Did they film a DVD for the tour?
Frank: I believe so.
Bobby: Do you know when it will come out?
Frank: Nope, I have no clue.
Bobby: With the release of “Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge”, you guys have skyrocketed up the popularity chain, especially here in Canada. You guys went from playing for 100 kids at Warped Tour to selling out arenas at the Taste Of Chaos and opening for Green Day. Why do you think that is?
Frank: It’s one of those things where you start out, you form a band and you write some songs in your basement and you put out a demo or a record on an indie label and you just tour because you love to do what you do. Then you run into kids on the road and they say that they enjoy your art and say that you’ve changed their life in a certain way and that’s the best compliment you can get. It makes you feel like you’re really doing something, like you’re actually changing the world. We haven’t stopped working since those days, so to take a step back be like “O wow, we’ve come this far” – that really doesn’t happen. All I know is that more kids are coming out. I have two plaques in my room, I don’t know, but I don’t see them – I’m never home. Why did that happen? I’d like to think that people heard it and knew that we were a real band and that we had something to say and enjoyed that and took that to heart. I hope that’s the reason. We’ve worked really hard. Maybe that’s it. Maybe God likes us, I don’t know.
Bobby: Do you guys think that that humongous leap in popularity could ever turn into a bad thing?
Frank: I think that anytime a large number of people hear your music and enjoy your music, that’s a good thing. I’m not stupid; I know that a lot of those people could be fair-weather fans. There’s definitely a lot more “Gerard, you’re so cute” rather then “play this song”. That’s a shame. Hopefully the kids who bought the record now and bought it because they think Gerard’s really cute will listen to the record and learn about the band and grow into it and realize why they really like it. If they don’t, that’s fine. If they’re not there tomorrow, we’ll still be doing this and we’ll still be doing this for the people that do get it.
Bobby: How did you get in contact with Reprise Records to release the album?
Frank: Well, here’s the thing. Do you remember Thursday? When they were huge – well, they are on hiatus right now, but like when they got signed, there was a signing frenzy, you know what I mean? Labels were just salivating to sign any band form New Jersey. Kids that had black hair. Kids that wrote about New Brunswick or anything. Anyone from New Jersey was getting signed and you could see that a lot because anybody that was in a band from New Jersey got signed. We were a band for maybe, maybe, two months; and major labels were calling the practice studio that we were practicing in, and that was really weird. We were just like “This is kind of bull shit. You don’t want to sign us; you just want to sign the next Thursday. We’re not going to do this.” We signed to Eyeball, put out an indie record and toured for a while because that’s what we wanted to do. We wanted to make something on our own and it’s a lot better when you work for something. And then we felt it was time to make a jump, or take the next step. Eyeball couldn’t reach the amount of people that we really wanted to reach. We toured a lot without the record being really anywhere. And we were like “you know what; we’re not going to sign to another label unless we find something that really gets us and it feels like a family.” And one day we were contacted by Reprise. Reprise, Warner, same thing. And we signed for the company. Everybody that works with our band gets us. They wanted us to be My Chemical Romance, they didn’t want us to be The Used, they didn’t want us to be Thursday or whatever. And that was amazing for us. There was no stipulations, its was just go out, be a band and write songs that you love to write. So we were like “alright!” and we did. I really don’t think they thought they were going to get a really good record, and I think we wrote a really good record so we’ve never regretted that decision.
Bobby: What’s it like switching from a small independent like Eyeball to a major like Warner Music?
Frank: You feel like people are behind you, you know what I mean? It’s weird; I always thought that it would feel less like you have people behind you because it’s such a big company with so many bands. But a lot of people have our backs. A lot of people are pushing for this band to do well and for us to reach our goals. We really just have a lot of help and that’s a great thing and there’s people at the label that really believe in you and their job is to, basically, make sure you get what you want. If we wanted to, let’s say, do another David Bowie cover, they would make that happen; and that’s awesome you know. That’s really the only difference, and your record is everywhere.
Bobby: Yeah, because it’s hard to find your first one. All my friends are looking for it and can’t find it.
Frank: For that, we just say go on the internet and find it.
Bobby: I gotta ask this because I love your videos, like we were watching them at my house last night. “Helena” and “I’m Not Okay”, where did you come up with all the concepts of the video?
Frank: Because we’re just nerds. That’s how it is. We sit in our van or our bus, bus now, and just talk about stupid stuff. Read comic books and watch movies. And then the label’s like “We want to do a video” and we’re like “Okay, this is what we want to do.” Then we found a director, his name is Mark Webb. He did both our videos and he’s directing our new video that we are doing in… actually three days. And he’s like “alright, I think we should do this” and we wanted to do this, so we just kind of mixed it all together. Same thing with “Helena,” although “Helena” was a little bit easier only because I left it up to Gerard. It was about his grandmother, him and Mikey. It was their homage to her. It was creepy, because I was at the actual funeral and it resembled the funeral almost to a T. It was really weird. And some of that you wanted, and some of that just happened. But with the dancing and everything like that, well we always try to have an uplifting theme. I think our music is very ironic in that we’ll have a dark theme with heavy music and a darker theme with an uplifting message.
Bobby: You just said you’re shooting a video in three days, for what song?
Frank: “The Ghost Of You.”
Bobby: Do you have any ideas as to what the concept is going to be?
Frank: Yes. But I can’t tell you. Sorry. It’s going to be huge. I promise you this, it’s going to be more like a movie then any other video we’ve done and it’s going to be enormous. Yeah, we’ve thought this out a lot. It could really, really suck, but we hope it doesn’t.
Bobby: Now I’m looking forward to seeing this video. How do you guys pick what songs you want to be singles?
Frank: Well, it’s one of those things where when we wrote the record we had ideas for what songs we wanted to hear on the radio, but we didn’t really decide any. It was kind of like “we like all our songs, you’re the label, and you decide which ones to put out.” And they were like “okay, put this one out. Put this one out. Put this one out.” If, after this one, they do another, I hope it’s “Prison.”
Bobby: On the “I’m Not Okay” video, Gerard says “I don’t wanna make it, I just wanna…” and then it cuts to the music. Can you finish that sentence for us? “I don’t wanna make it, I just wanna…”
Frank: See, the original line was… well, it summed up the entire cheesiness of the teen movie type thing. It was “I just wanna rock!” And it was just too much. We wrote a million other things, “I just wanna be myself”… ah, what were the other ones… there were so many. But we just left it open because I think you get a lot more out of it if you just leave it open and put whatever you want to put in there. In that scene, Gerard is like every kid. He’s me, he’s you, he’s everyone. It’s like, you know what, a lot of people are told they aren’t going to make it, but just do what you do best and live your life. Live it for yourself, and really just fuck everybody else.
Bobby: A lot of punk “elitists” are starting to complain about the whole “emo” trend. Guys wearing makeup, and wearing girls pants. Mark Adkins from Guttermouth went on a huge rant about it all on their site and even went to the limit of calling Gerard a “fat pink raccoon.” What’s your opinion on all of that?
Frank: I think, he’s a racist, he’s a sexist, he’s homophobic, he’s a hateful person, and it’s just wrong. We could all sit here and call people names and hate people for the way they dress or the music they like or just the things that they think are cool. But that doesn’t make us any better. It’s an awful thing where you have such a soap box, like you have a lot of fans that are into your band, and you use that to spew hate. I guess that’s his opinion.
Bobby: You guys are also heavily involved in the Shirts For A Cure project and have a total of four t-shirts on there now. Why are you guys so involved in that?
Frank: Because it’s a good cause. Definitely, maybe this sounds dumb or naive, but when I started playing music and when I started growing up, all I ever wanted to do was to change the world in some way. Make a foot print. I think the worst thing you could possibly do is to live your life and have the world be the same way it was before you were here as it is after. I think that we’re here for a reason and if we don’t do something to make the world a better place, then we just wasted everyone’s time. And if we can do something as small as put t-shirts on website and raise money for a cure, then we’re going to do that.
Bobby: Okay, if you guys could pick one person or band, dead or alive, to tour with, who would you pick to tour with and why?
Frank: Oh man… Definitely the original Misfits line up because they are just amazing. The Clash would be amazing. The bands that I grew listening to, like Black Flag. Man, if I could tour with Black Flag with Keith Morris singing, like the original line up, that would be amazing. Yeah, bands like that.
Bobby: Okay, now onto to more unusual questions that I like to ask at all interviews. First off all, if you guys were stranded on a desert island, with no food and nothing to eat, which one of the band members would you eat to survive?
Frank: Wow. O man. It definitely wouldn’t be Mikey, because he’s got nothing. I don’t know. I wouldn’t eat Gerard or Bob because they are just great company, and I wouldn’t eat Toro because he’d probably be the one to figure out a way off the island. So I’d probably have to eat my own leg.
Bobby: If you were the member of the opposite sex for a day, or a week, or whoever long you wanted, what would you do and why?
Frank: Man, what would I do…? I’d probably get lower car insurance. I don’t know, what would I do… that’s a good question, I’ve never really thought about it.
Bobby: Yeah, not many people do.
Frank: Yeah, I don’t know. Nothing is ringing a bell. Sorry. I’d probably just sit home and eat chocolate cake, that’s all I would do.
Bobby: Okay, here’s a question from my friend Tyson, he’s wanted me to ask this at an interview for so long now. Rosie O’Donnell or Whoopi Goldberg. Who would you do?
Frank: Wow… Christ… Man, there’s no like secret C choice?
Jacey: No happy medium.
Frank: Man. Could I at least give Whoopi Goldberg eyebrows?
Bobby: Yeah.
Frank: Okay, Whoopi Goldberg with eyebrows.
Bobby: Could you tell us something about the band or one of its members that not many people know about? Like a little quirk or something that do on the road.
Frank: Umm, okay, let’s see. I’m trying to think of things that won’t embarrass anybody. One thing, just one?
Bobby: Well, how ever many you want to tell us.
Frank: I’ll give you one about everybody. Ray’s never around. Ray will constantly be on his phone, playing a video game or playing guitar in the back lounge with earphones on. Like you will not see him, you do not see him at all. That kid is dedicated to technology completely. Bob is addicted to “24” – the television show. Mikey will be broke at the age of thirty, but have every DVD, comic book, and video game known to man. Gerard, this is probably widely known, but I will assure you, Gerard is as close to genius as you could possibly get.
Bobby: Okay, I guess that’s about it. Do you have any final thoughts you want to add?
Frank: Whatever you do, don’t ever be full of shit.
Bobby: Alright, thanks a lot for doing the interview.
Frank: I appreciate it man.
#2005#revenge era#interviews#my chemical romance#mcr#old web mcr#thepunksite.com#frank iero#three cheers for sweet revenge
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Mislaid Conviction
Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x Reader
Summary: You're recovering from the Capitol torture in District 13. The only person left to comfort you is Haymitch, which brings up weird feelings you're not able to face yet.
Warnings: Angst, light fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of medical drugs, self-deprecation, mentions of therapy
This will be a series!
WC: 2.2k
As a victor who was reaped in the 75th Hunger Games and part of the rebellion, the odds were the furthest from in your favor. You weren’t rescued from the arena. Nor were you rescued from the six weeks of torture. But now you were rescued. After the damage had already been done.
Sure, you knew that the goal was never you. Katniss Everdeen was the face of the rebellion and at least you made it out of the arena, right? Many hadn’t. So that was something to be grateful for; your life. Your life was something to be grateful for.
Did it hurt that the only man- only person that you trusted had left you to die in the Capitol hands? That was what the shrink they assigned to you should have asked. He asked how you felt about not being rescued the day Katniss blew open the arena’s sky. So you answered vaguely about District 13’s need for Katniss in these and those trying times. But the answer to the real question? Yeah. Yeah, it hurt like hell. But you wouldn’t be able to tell the deep need for repair of the relationship with the way Haymitch walked so casually into your hospital room.
His eyes scanned your face, searching for clues to your well-being. "How's the pain, sweetheart?" he asked softly. Softly. Was he pitying you? The thought made your blood boil.
“Painful.” You said quite ambiguously.
He clearly didn’t appreciate the answer but didn’t make an effort to press, instead looking around the silent, white room. "How about sleep?"
You sighed, but decided to answer the question. "I can only get it with whatever drugs they give me. And usually the nightmares still wake me up anyway."
A deep line formed between his brow. "Have you talked to anyone about them?"
You didn’t even really want to talk in general, your throat sore from screaming, but especially not to a stranger who thinks they can fix you. Hell, you didn’t want to talk to Haymitch. Why were you? “They gave me a therapist but I haven’t said a word to him.”
“Why not?” Haymitch asked, but he clearly didn’t look surprised.
You shrugged. “I don’t trust him.” Did you trust Haymitch anymore though?
He seemed to mull over this for a moment. “I guess I can understand that. But… don’t you think talking it out might help?” It sounded forced.
You looked at him like he was insane for suggesting the idea, immediately thinking how hypocritical that was. But you find yourself answering the question earnestly instead of throwing it back in his face. “I don’t know… I get- I just don’t like to think about it.” How did he always seem to weasel some emotion out of you? You’re supposed to be mad at him right now. You’re supposed to hate him right now. Yet, here you are, answering his questions and wondering why he’s asking them in the first place since it’s so unlike him.
"Can't say I blame you, sweetheart," he admitted quietly, "but at some point you have to face it."
You looked down, not answering. To which he studied your face for a moment before speaking again. "Do you have anybody outside of me to talk to? Friends, family?"
“You know I don’t.” You said, harsher than you intended, but Haymitch didn’t strike back.
He just exhaled quietly. "Yeah, I just thought I'd check." His eyes flicked around the bland hospital room, as if searching for some help.
“It’s just you.” It hurt to say. Because it was true. There was no one else for you except Haymitch and so hating him… Where did that get you? Alone, that’s what.
Haymitch's expression softened a bit more and he looked sad. "Well, I'll be here as long as you need me."
Who was this man? Sure he had helped you survive the Hunger Games and navigate being a victor afterwards but never had he been so emotional about it. So forthcoming with care and understanding. He always preferred to grunt anytime you said a sweet thing (which wasn’t often but still), or drown in a bottle instead of having a serious conversation about his past. Oh, that was part of it for sure. They definitely weren’t giving him alcohol here. You looked him over, you had seen him sober-ish before but this was different. You realized he looked… Awful.
And despite the twinge of sympathy, you figured you might as well say as much. “You look like shit, by the way.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. You expected some good ol’ banter, ‘you don’t look too hot yourself, sweetheart’, you missed that. Instead, “Thanks.”
You frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
He looked up at you, someone else might not be able to, but you could tell he was at the very least; annoyed. “What?” The word was slightly snippy.
"Is it because I’m in the hospital?"
He became more impatient. "What?'"
“You’re not- I don’t know, you.” You tried to explain, your brows furrowed with your own frustration. “It’s weird. You’re so.. docile.” You continue, maybe in order to get a rise out of him.
Haymitch crossed his arms in protest. "Okay, hold on. Don't get used to this, got it? It's only because you need me to be nice to you."
"Yeah, I might just break if you speak too loudly?" You snarked.
"Yeah, pretty much." He snapped back.
"There we go.” You smirked in a way you knew irritated him, finally having gotten something normal out of him.
He still looked annoyed for a moment before he just chuckled and shook his head, giving up the facade. "Alright, well, just so you know… I intend to return to my usual self once you get all patched up."
“I doubt it.” You sighed, folding your hands on your lap.
Haymitch's brows shot up in surprise at another unexpected admission from you. "Oh yeah?" He asked. "You think I've softened?"
You giggled. "Definitely. You're a big softie now."
"A big softie?" Haymitch shook his head earnestly. "You're crazy. I'm still as angry and bitter as I ever was. I’m like this now because...well..." he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish the thought.
"Because... They took away your alcohol?" You brought up.
Haymitch grunted in annoyance which made you smile. "Yeah, I suppose that could have something to do with it," he muttered, still not willing to admit that was the only reason for his newfound care. But you assumed it was. That, and maybe a hint of guilt for leaving you to die.
You decided to play in idle chit chat. "How are you doing with that transition?"
Haymitch scowled at your question. "It's not been easy," he admitted. "The first long bit, I was the meanest I’ve probably ever been. Good thing you weren’t around, you would've loved that.” You tried to keep from scrunching your nose at that comment. Good thing you were being tortured in the Capitol? He continued, “Not gonna lie, I've thought about breaking the rules a few times, but I've refrained because I don't wanna screw up getting you out of here...or getting myself in trouble."
Your bitterness was quickly thrown out the window for the opportunity to mess with him. Some might call it flirting, but flirting with Haymitch didn’t sound right. It was just harmless… Something-ing. "Awww, you quit for me?" You bat your eyelashes, acting overly affectionate. And when he rolled his eyes, you laughed, bringing on a coughing fit.
Haymitch's expression shifted to concern as he heard you cough, "Hey, you alright?" He asked, his tone now serious.
You swallowed thickly. “Define ‘alright.’”
He frowned and you continued to cough, throwing up your hands in exhaustion. "I just want to be out of this place." You groaned. "I'm useless and ugly, I'm all stitched up and bruised, broken." And there you went again, telling him things you wouldn’t anyone else. Letting him see inside your messed up brain because surely he can help? You trusted him to help, not anyone else. No matter how much you desperately try to tell yourself you hate him now. n
Haymitch sighed, his expression reflecting a mix of sadness and understanding. "Look, I know you're in a tough spot right now, but... this is temporary. You’ll be back into action in… Well, at some point." He tried, not actually sure what your recovery time is.
“I just feel… gross.” You continued to complain anyway.
Haymitch's frown deepened at your frustrated admission. "Gross?" He asked, genuine concern making way for a bit of humor. "What, because of how you look? Cause I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sweetheart, but you don’t look much different.”
A small part of you wanted to at least give him a smile in appreciation of his attempt at cheering you up, but you didn’t. Instead, you chose to wallow even more in self pity. So, he sighed and went back to seriousness. "Listen, you're not gross just because you've gone through something painful. Healing takes time. You're still..." He trailed off, hesitating before continuing. "...you're still as attractive as ever."
You rolled your eyes, hoping the way your face heated up didn’t show. And why did your face heat up anyway? Sure, you’d gotten flustered around him before but not because he had said something like that. Such a clear compliment, not a drunken observation. The delivery made a shiver go down your spine.
But if he noticed the tint to your cheeks he didn’t comment on it. He just chuckled at your eye roll. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. You're not interested in compliments or reassurances?" he grumbled. "You'd much rather have me back to my bitter old self, snapping at you and calling you stupid."
You firmly shook your head. "No... I like the new Haymitch." Then silence. Then staring. Then more color to your cheeks. Then you coughed again. He handed you a glass of water and you took a sip once you could.
He silently watched you as you took sip after sip, trying to calm your throat. And then, because today was apparently all about emotions, he sighed. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
You felt more pressure on your throat, an involuntary spasm maybe, that made it impossible to say anything that wasn’t sarcastic. "See? I told you I was all gross and ugly."
Haymitch's expression darkened at that statement. "Hey, don't talk about yourself like that," he said firmly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're not gross or ugly, got it? You're injured and healing. That doesn't diminish your worth or your attractiveness."
“So I’m just stupid then, huh?” You tried to keep the smile off your face.
He didn’t try. “Yeah, just stupid.” His eyes fell down and he took in a breath. “Now, don’t go actually believing that, okay sweetheart?”
"Well, if I wasn't stupid, I would've been able to get out of the arena too."
Haymitch sighed, clearly frustrated with your flip-flopping emotions. He shook his head emphatically, his expression a mix of irritation and sadness. "No, don't go there," he said firmly. "None of it was your fault. You didn't choose to be in the arena. You didn't choose to get hurt. Blaming yourself for things that are out of your control is just a waste of energy."
"It wasn't out of my control. If I had paid better attention to what was happening, you could've gotten me out too." You insisted.
“That’s not true. You did the best you could. And, hey, you’re still here. That’s something.” He sounded as if he was now trying to convince himself, his hand gripping the arm of his chair tightly.
You scoffed. "What? So at least I'm not dead? Trust me, there were times when I wished they'd be so kind as to kill me."
Haymitch’s frown deepened at your dark admission. “Don’t-” He sighs. “What happened in there?”
You tilted your head at the question before shaking it, your mouth shut and your gaze away from him.
He abandoned the question quickly, like flicking a switch. “Don’t go there, alright? There are people who care about you.. Who would miss you if you were gone.”
You looked at him and raised a brow, waiting for him to continue but he just stared back at you, making no effort to. So, you held his gaze and now there was a challenge there. You two were unblinking and you wondered who would break first. But you didn’t wonder for long as Haymitch looked away after a surprisingly short time.
You tried to catch his eyes again, smirking. “Come on. Say it.” You said.
"Say what?" He asked, feigning ignorance, knowing precisely what you were insinuating.
"I dare you..." You replied in a sing-song voice.
Haymitch chuckled at your eager expression, his eyes locked onto yours once again. "Alright, alright," he said, an amused glint in his eyes. "You want me to say it? I will..." He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze intense as he spoke. "I...care about you. You, you stubborn, pain in the ass girl."
You chuckled at his admission. Of course there would be a little insult to act as a barrier. But there it was, so you returned it against your better judgment. "I care about you too. You cranky old man."
#fanfic#fanfiction#x you#x yn#x y/n#x reader#hunger games#thg#thg series#the hunger games#haymitch abernathy#haymitch abernathy fanfiction#haymitch abernathy x reader#haymitch abernathy x you#haymitch abernathy x y/n#hunger games x reader
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Heartless | Sidney Crosby
summary: when you finally arrive back to the rink you once called home, the last thing you expect is that the now legend from PIT forgets who he was once to you.
dreamer: chapter one
warnings: swearing
word count: 1.38k
authors note: I know how long some of you’ve been waiting for this series so I want to thank you! This was a bit of a weird chapter but it was just so we could set the ground for the rest of the work to come in later. I truly cannot wait to show you all where this one is going to go!
Today was the start of something new.
Or at least that was what you told yourself as you stood in the cool breeze that whirled around the city of Pittsburgh. Everything had gone your way today and the universe was clearly on your side.
You had woken up early, gotten an A on a paper you just got back, your Amazon delivery had arrived early. And most importantly your favourite coffee shop was still open letting you get something to eat before you were meant to be at the rink “watch where you’re going jackass!” You yelled as a car drove you off the road.
It was a pretty black land rover who only responded with the hit of the horn causing your brows to furrow “what a dick.” You scoffed watching the car speed off.
Now your coffee was soaking into the tar of the road as your croissant was being eaten by pigeons that had found you. So much for it being a good day, I guess.
Everything in your Arsenal that you could try to do to calm down as you wanted to have a clear mind for your first day “not everything is going to go your way.” Marc-André reminded you as he stared at you.
Despite having three children under the age of ten, you were still his baby just like the rest of your siblings “yeah but dad-” you whined parking your car as you looked at the PPG Arena “you know I’m being honest kid.” He mumbled knowing that he should have been in Pittsburgh as you started the season.
It made you roll you eyes “where is mom when you need some moral support?” You complained shutting the car door behind you as you stared up at the sky.
The grey sky seemed comforting as you heard the rough clouds come together as thunder claps roared over the city “she is with your sister but she’d also want you to just breathe.” His voice was clear making you roll your eyes “I hate it when you’re right.” You grumbled as a small smile formed on your lips.
Even with your rough exterior your father knew how to break you down in an attempt to get you to the soft state that had him wrapped around your finger “no you don’t.” Marc-André laughed as he shook his head “now go make me proud and play nice.” His words made you grin as you raked your fingers through your hair.
Pictures of the younger version of your father were up on the walls as you saw some of your favourite people from when you were a child growing up “I should get going dad.” You looked at your watch fearing that you were going to be late.
With that he snapped his fingers before he sent you a salute as you did the same thing “love you kid.” You pressed your fingers to your lips as the line ended.
You took a moment to study the welcome area and all of the trophies that the Penguins had won “I didn’t know we let fans in here today.” A voice came from behind you that causing you to spin on your feet.
Kris held a friendly face as you turned to a panic “I’m so sorry!” You blurted out as your cheeks reddened “I am actually the new intern for the physios office and uh-” you trailed off going quiet when the slap of his hand to his mouth cut you off.
It wasn’t often that Kris was left shocked “sparky you’ve gotten so big!” His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into a hug.
Sparky was the title you picked up as a kid due to the fact that once when nobody on the team could get you to stop crying. Until your Sidney shocked himself plugging his phone charger into the wall.
Your reaction had most of the guys laughing as Sidney had to recreate his response to it in order to make sure you stayed smiling. Then it stuck after your dad dressed you up as a lightbulb for Halloween that year.
You smiled as he dropped his hands to his sides trying to comprehend that you were old enough to be working “I’ve gotten an internship here with the physio team.” You explained ignoring his crazy you felt admitting to the fact that you were actually there and this was no longer a note on your vision board.
Kris felt like a proud parent “always thought you’d land up somewhere like that.” The physios from when your dad was at the team used to entertain you when you came with him to work when your mom was busy with college work.
His words made your heart throb “enough about me, how are you-” before you could even get your words out the sound of a door slamming cut you both off.
Spinning around a smile formed on your face as you locked eyes with Sidney Crosby. You were like ever other child who was practically in awe of him, you were one of the lucky few who got to grow up with him so that made him all that much cooler to you “surprised to see you got here before you got knocked by another car.” His words made your face drop as your eyes went wide “excuse me?” You sucked at your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him.
Sidney hadn’t even acknowledged that Kris was around yet “you couldn’t even use your eyes to see that I was driving.” That comment made you gasp as pieces began to click in your mind “you’re jackass!” You gasped feeling your jaw go slack “sorry could like someone maybe catch me up?” Kris pleaded as he grew confused.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to turn your glares at him “someone is just an entitled-” he was cut off as doctor McLane walked into the area joining the three of you “I’m so happy to se you’ve made it!” She clasped her hands together as she saw you.
Melissa turned her attention to the two players “I’m glad to see you’ve met the new physio intern y/n F-” before she could finish introducing her you had to interrupt “just y/n will do.” You smiled sending her a nod.
Before you had the chance to continue the argument with Sidney you were knocked off of your feet as he pushed past you to get to the locker room “I promise the rest of the guys will be easier than that.” Kris sent you a smile as he helped you back up. If only he really knew how awful that day would get.
Sidney couldn’t believe that luck had been so against him today as you had to show up at work today, the one place he truly thought that he could get away from young people who thought they knew more than they did.
But not even how much you had pissed him off could have stopped him from smiling as he accepted that FaceTime call from Marc-André “you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Sidney sighed as he sunk into his seat “hope y/n didn’t have too much to do with that.” Your father teased as you used to run laps around Sidney when you went through the phases of having Sidney as your favourite penguin.
It made Sidney stop in his tracks though as the question weighed on his mind “how do you know about her?” The words left his lips quicker than he could have thought about it “did you forget the part where I fathered her?” The older boy laughed as he spoke in a duh tone.
If you had known about the way that the colour drained from Sidney’s face you honestly would have been upset that you hadn’t been there to see it in person “do you seriously not remember how I told you that y/n was going to be the new intern for the physios.” Marc-André couldn’t see Sidney’s response as he dropped his phone.
This meant that not only was Sidney going to have to put up with you, it also meant that he was going to have to act like he liked it too.
#dreamer series#Sidney Crosby imagines#Sidney Crosby oneshots#sidney crosby x reader#nhl oneshots#nhl imagines#imagines#oneshots#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#nhl oneshot
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It’s so interesting how Hisoka seems like a better partner than Chrollo. Like his character is unpredictable enough to that being like a real possibility to me.
Sure you can never leave him, and everything about him is gross and dangerous, but he would be okey with you getting out of the house, talk to a few people and then come back. Is not like he is there half of the time and he would forget to leave food so you have to go buy it yourself.
the fic I see about Hisoka is him being an absolute monster or a decent and bloody parent and honestly it could go either way.
I think the way I've always viewed Hisoka is that he's not the type to hide the kind of person he is. some yanderes will lie to you about what they're doing because they want you to stay with them willingly and they'd like avoid to avoid using force with you for as long as possible. but Hisoka would never bother making up some lie about what his day to day usually entails
for one thing, he's well known from Heavens Arena and therefore you could easily come across some video of a match where he sliced some poor bastard to death and see what he's really like, so why bother to lie in that case
and to reiterate what I said at the beginning, hiding just isn't something Hisoka is going to do, not when it comes to someone he's romantically interested in. Hisoka does lie, even about things that aren't important, but I can't see him lying about what he's like to live out some weird domestic fantasy with you. from the beginning, you'll know exactly what you're getting into when you enter a relationship with him
I definitely agree with everything you've written. a relationship with Hisoka can work out surprisingly well, though it fully depends on how you react to everything. if you resist and reject his advances and Hisoka is really determined not to let you go, that's when things aren't so great for you and Hisoka will ruin aspects of your life as a way to keep you with him
but if you accept him, it's not so bad. Hisoka probably insists on getting his way regarding any issues between the two of you and you need to deal with the embarrassment of him deciding to get handsy with you in inappropriate places, but that's mostly it. during the times Hisoka is gone you get to live a pretty normal life
and during the times that he is with you, there's some solace in knowing that as long as Hisoka is with you in that moment, then you at least he's not out there somewhere ruining the lives of others
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{2} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor
Pairing: Ateez X Reader
Words: 9,538
Warnings: Very suggestive content, mentions of past trauma and PTSD. Minor anxiety. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I love when things all start to fall into place! Finally, I have a solid outline of the next few chapters ehehehe I'm super excited for you all to see what I have planned, and I greatly hope you’ll all look forward to the upcoming chapters. I have a feeling a few things might shock you hehehe anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.
Mini Masterlist - Part One
“I still can’t believe that this has been underneath the house this entire time,” your voice, full of awe and wonder, echoes around the area. Again, your eyes are quick to take in every detail surrounding you just like the first time you entered their training space.
The room stretches on before you, more like a mini arena than anything. A light blue lines the walls, almost steel in colour, giving them a sort of metallic sheen as the florescent lights illuminate the space. A throwing range is off to the side, wooden targets well worn lining the scraped up walls. There’s even a large sparring area, complete with mirrors to the side to observe yourself while fighting for any openings you might leave yourself vulnerable to.
To the left, gym equipment resides. Anything and everything you can think of lines the space, making you feel as if you’re in some weird simulation of The Hunger Games. The training facility, if you can even call it that, has nearly all of the exact same things, up to and including a separate space where you can run types of simulations to practice what you’ve learned.
“We didn’t want to scare you,” Mingi shrugs, sitting off to the side as both San and Jongho grab some equipment to begin preparing for your training.
“That still doesn’t explain why you waited this long to tell me,” you chuckle. “Even after I expressed how cool I find your abilities, both physical and metaphysical.”
“To be fair, Dearest,” Yeosang sits right beside Mingi, the two of them watching on carefully. “The progress we had been making with you could have been changed or lost at any point. We simply didn’t want to do something to jeopardize that.”
You hum in acknowledgement, moving over to the sparring mats alongside both San and Jongho. A moment later, and you begin doing some stretches.
Just as you straighten yourself into a standing position once more, you hear a loud crashing sound coming from behind you.
“Oh, please tell me I haven’t missed it yet,” Wooyoung comes rushing into the room, practically tripping over himself and the equipment scattered throughout.
“Didn’t realize I’d have a peanut gallery,” you mumble, hearing Jongho chuckle from beside you.
“Think of them as extra observers to give you pointers that we may miss.” San comments, a subtle grin tugging at his lips as he begins stretching alongside you.
“Translation: they just want to have an excuse to look at my ass while I stretch.” You reply, amusement shining behind your eyes.
Mingi’s brows raise in amusement, Wooyoung grinning suggestively at you as he takes a seat on the floor in front of his brothers. At least Yeosang has the decency to avoid your gaze, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters out a response.
“It’s okay, boys,” you chuckle. “The feeling is mutual.”
Wooyoung immediately bursts out laughing, especially when he turns his head to see both Yeosang and Mingi looking completely shocked behind him.
“Perks of being a visual learner,” you add, sitting on the ground to begin stretching out both your back and legs further.
“Wait, you mean you check us out while we’re working out, too?” Mingi is still attempting to wrap his head around your confession only moments before.
“You’ve really never noticed before?” San quirks a knowing brow at his brother.
“You try living with eight modern Adonis’, and you see how well you fare.” You comment, standing back to your feet as pleased growls reach your ears. Then, you’re turning to face the three males sitting to the side. “You’ve seriously never felt my gaze on you while I’m checking you out?”
“Why do you think I told you to start wearing compression shirts since you didn’t want to go topless?” San directs his comment towards Mingi, and your jaw drops.
“That was because of you?” Your voice is incredulous, eyes sparkling with awe as you watch him nod smugly. Your grin soon mirrors his own as you exhale a breath. “Fuck, I love you.”
A pleased growl escapes San’s lips as he absolutely revels in your gaze. The way the others shoot him small looks of either disbelief, or mild jealousy, is simply icing on the cake.
“Maybe we should all start working out shirtless,” Wooyoung hums, a smirk dancing on his features.
“Should we take it a step further and oil ourselves in the nude, too?” Jongho’s eyes gleam as he watches your reactions closely.
“Damn, I haven’t done that since the Olympics,” San hums, crossing his arms proudly over his chest.
The way you swallow thickly does not go unnoticed by any of them.
“So, the distractions have started already, I see,” you nod, almost absentmindedly.
“What seems to be on your mind, Starlight?” Mingi smirks, a knowing gleam shining within his eyes.
You lick your lips, the corner tugging upwards gently. “I think you already know, Moonlight.”
Five low growls echo around the room as a certain tension fills the air. That is, until that familiar gleam of curiosity flashes behind your eyes.
“So, did any of you compete in a circus?” You can hardly contain the excitement from bleeding into your voice as you look around at all of them.
“Hwa was always the best at chariot racing.” Yeosang hums, leaning back in his seat for the moment.
“Something tells me it was more than just being good with horses,” you chuckle, a small smile tugging on your features. “Though, it’s very fitting for some reason.”
“Well, he is the most competitive out of all of us.” San nods.
“And that’s saying something.” Mingi shoots a pointed look at Jongho who simply rolls his eyes in response.
“Jongho and San were excellent gladiators, too.” Wooyoung adds, nonchalantly. Though, with how his eyes gleam, you know his words are very calculated.
“I understand now why they’re the first ones teaching me hand to hand combat, then.” You nod, attempting to not appear as affected as you are for the moment.
“Yunho, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong all enjoyed wrestling a bit too much,” Jongho says, a chuckle falling from his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You nod, once more attempting to not allow your thoughts to consume you. Unfortunately, with their earlier comments about bathing themselves in oil, it’s quite difficult not to picture the aforementioned males rolling around and wrestling in the nude.
A tense smile pulls at your lips, blinking in the next second. Shaking your head, you attempt to clear your thoughts, grateful to have that void of yours up and running. Though, from the way they all look at you, eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness, you can just tell they know perfectly well what you’re thinking about.
Clearing your throat, you manage to compose yourself a bit better, even if only slightly.
“Yeosang-“
“Archery,” you cut Mingi off as you turn to face the aforementioned male. “I remember.”
The soft smile that paints your lips has all four of his brothers turning to face him. A smile of which is mirrored on his own features as he recalls the conversation that he had with you that very night all those months ago where he got to hold you in his arms as you slept. Though, the morning afterwards, in his opinion, was even better. A memory he will cherish until the end of time. A memory he will never forget.
“Mingi was never really in to the Olympics like we were,” San states, and you watch how the aforementioned man sits a little straighter in his seat. “None of us could touch him on the water, though.”
“Naval battles?” You quirk a brow, noticing how red begins to creep over the tips of his ears. At his nod, you exhale a low breath. “Literally, could you guys get any more attractive?”
Again, five pleased growls meet your ears.
“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest,” Yeosang hums, leaning further back into his seat.
“I always enjoy learning more about you,” you reply honestly, and you watch as they all visibly perk up from your words, giddy smiles settling onto each of their features. “Not to mention my little historian heart is practically leaping for joy right now.”
“Is it?” Jongho grins fondly as he meets your gaze. The way they can all hear your heart racing in excitement has a warmth flooding their veins the longer this conversation draws on. “We couldn’t tell.”
Playfully, you stick your tongue out at him.
“Honestly, we could spend weeks telling you all about whatever kinds of history you want to know.” San offers, and the way your eyes instantly light up has his heart fluttering inside of his chest.
“Really?” You fail to hide how hopeful you sound.
“Anything and everything you’d like, Starlight.” Mingi confirms, nodding once he sees he’s drawn your attention back onto him for the moment.
“We are more than happy to share it all with you, Angel.” Wooyoung smiles, propping his knee up so that he can rest his one arm over top of it. He gazes at you fondly, his entire being relaxing into this moment with you.
The way they all see you visibly begin to shake in excitement, bouncing up and down slightly in your spot as a brilliant smile takes over your features, begins to rub off on all of them. None can help the way nothing but love for you floods their veins, each male gazing upon you tenderly at how eager you seem to be. The wonder alone they see reflected in your eyes sets their hearts racing inside of their chests.
“I have so many questions,” you begin, unable to prevent yourself from pacing any longer.
The fact that you need to expel that energy has both Jongho and Mingi chuckling fondly.
“How about we save them for later, though.” San smiles at you, halting you in your tracks as his one hand comes up to gently grasp the side of your arm.
“Okay,” you nod eagerly. Then, your eyes flash as you meet his gaze. “Does this mean you’re all going to teach me the different fighting styles of different cultures through the ages?”
They all share a brief look between one another.
“Oh, come on! You can’t seriously be telling me that you were only going to teach me the very basics,” you tilt your head slightly as you cross your arms over your chest.
“We can teach you as much or as little as you’d like, Darling.” Jongho chuckles, gently guiding you onto the large sparring mat once more. “We just never expected you to be so enthusiastic about it.”
“I thought I told you that dismemberment wasn’t the only violent thought I can have.” You reply, a slight amused quirk to your brow. “You know I want to be as badass and intimidating as My Kings are.”
“But, how could we ever forget?” Wooyoung practically purrs out, a pleasant rumble escaping his chest that he knows is echoed lowly by each of his brothers.
“Okay,” San chuckles, moving to stand across from you on the mat. “We’ve already taught you the basics of self-defence, and you’ve started working to increase your stamina and strength. All that’s left are some simple fighting stances, and then the real fun begins.”
A look of determination washes over your features as you all become serious in the next moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho beginning to circle the mat, San explaining some basic footholds and arm blocks all the while. Of course, he’s quick to demonstrate each one, nodding in approval as he watches you copy each one.
“The most important part of your balance is your core,” he explains. “The quickest way to throw someone off their rhythm is to break through their own.”
“No matter what situation you find yourself in, there is always a way out.” Jongho adds. “Never let your enemy know they have the upper hand, unless you’re faking them out. In which case, you have to be sure you know what you’re doing.”
“We can discuss proper strategies another day,” San turns to look at his youngest brother as said male comes to stand right beside the elder. “Let’s just teach you some basic maneuvers to begin.”
Slowly, each of the two males goes through different fighting techniques. Their explanations are thorough, demonstrating the stances as often as you need them to. You pick them up pretty quickly, anyways, and by the time a few hours have passed, they all watch as you practice hitting a punching bag with a certain pride swirling within their eyes.
Taking a short break, you wipe at your brow. “You know, this would be so much easier if you guys could just like, I don’t know, Matrix teach me this stuff. That way I could practice more things on my own.”
Both San and Jongho share a look.
“Unfortunately, Gorgeous, it doesn’t work that way.” Wooyoung sighs, having shifted his position so he’s now laying on his side on the floor with his one arm propping his head up in his hand.
“Sharing those techniques mentally doesn’t necessarily give you the same experience as teaching them to you does.” Mingi comments, and you look towards where he sits. Only now, he’s leaning back slightly in his seat, his one foot resting on the edge of the chair so that his knee is bent.
“Fair enough,” you shrug. “Just a thought.”
“It might be good once you have more of the basics down.” There’s a slight furrow to Yeosang’s brows as he thinks over your words. “You could identify the techniques we’ve used, and then when you know them, emulate them.”
Your whole demeanour visibly perks up at this.
“Certain things are better if they’re taught, but sharing our knowledge could never hurt.” Wooyoung agrees with a slight nod of his head after a moment. “Let’s save that for later, though. We don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“It’s also why we’re focussing on hand to hand combat training first.” Mingi adds. “Once you know that, adding a weapon simply pulls from that combat knowledge and extends it.”
“Okay,” you nod in understanding. “Makes sense.”
“Sometimes, allowing instinct to guide you helps in a fight.” San voices as you step back over to the sparring mat. “It doesn’t work for all of us, but trusting my gut has always saved me.”
“Don’t think, just move.” Jongho hums in agreement, standing off to the side and observing the two of you.
“I think you guys have a few more years of experience than me to be able to say that,” you joke, noticing how Wooyoung begins to laugh boisterously at your statement.
“You could say that,” he grins.
“At least a few,” Yeosang chimes in, amusement shining within his gaze.
“Come on,” San grins, taking a step forward in your direction, “we still need to teach you how to grab someone and pin them.”
“I volunteer!” Wooyoung is suddenly on his feet, arm raised enthusiastically in the air.
“Calm down, you idiot.” Jongho rolls his eyes. “It’s not your day to teach, yet.”
The dramatic pout that pulls at Wooyoung’s lips as he sits back down onto the ground has you chuckling in response.
“Don’t worry, Woo, I can pin you as much as you’d like some other time,” you comment casually, not even bothering to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes.
Little do you see the way his eyes flash, yet you do not fail to miss the pleased growl that escapes him in that moment. The way Yeosang stiffens in his spot, pointed glare being sent towards the younger also goes unnoticed by you, but you do see the way the males in front of you seemingly go still.
“I thought you said your training wasn’t a free pass for sexy times?” Mingi grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Who said anything about it being during my training?” You smirk, noticing the way all of their eyes flash black this time in response.
“You’re a tease, you know that, right?” San gets out through gritted teeth, eyes still swirling with that all too familiar darkness as he meets your gaze.
“Am I?” You feign innocence, a slight tilt to your head. “I had no idea.”
A moment of thick silence passes over all of you.
“So,” you hum, a slight amused twitch to your brow, “pinning?”
“Oh, we’re thinking about more than just pinning you now, Darling.” Jongho’s voice is low, nothing but a growl to his words.
“What ever do you mean, Darling?” The way you drawl out that one word sends a shiver right down Jongho’s spine.
“Baby,” San warns, chest rising and falling dramatically with every breath. “You’re playing a very dangerous game.”
“It’s as I’ve said before,” you giggle, a mischievous tug of your lips upwards. “It’s so easy to rile you guys up.”
“Can you blame us, Gorgeous?” Wooyoung’s voice is somewhat breathless as it reaches your ears from behind you. “You are the greatest temptation we’ve ever known.”
“Every little thing you do enchants us.” Mingi breathes, nothing but honesty in his words as his eyes roam every inch of your figure before him.
“Knowing you want to be here with us, and stay by our sides despite everything that’s happened is more than we could have ever asked for.” Yeosang tells you, his tone soft and airy as he stares at you with nothing but love in his honest gaze.
“The more we learn about you, and the more you want to know about us is like a dream come true.” Jongho admits, taking another step in closer to you until he’s practically wrapping you in his arms. The way you’re currently covered in sweat doesn’t seem to phase him at all as he presses his head softly against your own. “The fact that you have agreed to become Our Queen means more to us than the entirety of the realms combined.”
Soft rumbles of agreement echo around the room, filling your heart with a pleasant warmth as you melt into Jongho’s embrace.
“You are everything that we could have ever asked for.” San adds, closing the short distance between you and cupping your cheek tenderly in his hand. The way you turn to meet his gaze, eyes dripping with such affection towards them says it all. “We wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
You smile, your heart beating erratically in your chest. “You’re all smooth talkers, you know that?”
They all mirror your gentle expression.
“Only for you, Baby,” San’s thumb brushes gently against the skin of your cheek. “Now, stop trying to distract us. We still have things to teach you.”
His scolding is nothing but playful as he steps away from you, a knowing gleam held within his eyes as Jongho finally releases you from his hold. The way you grin, sticking your tongue out at him in the next moment has a chuckle falling from his lips.
“Alright, teach me what else you have to teach me today before I start swooning for real,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks as you feel all of their gazes on you yet again. “You’re supposed to be training me, not romancing me right now.”
“Is it working?” Wooyoung cracks a flirtatious grin, only to be hit upside the head by Yeosang in the next second. “Ow.”
“Who said we couldn’t do both?” Mingi chuckles, his eyes gleaming beneath the florescent lights.
You simply quirk a brow in their direction, a subtle smile tugging at your lips as you turn back to face San. The way you see him already fondly staring at you sets your heart racing inside of your chest. At least you can say that you can feel their love every time they look at you. A fact which has not changed since you first understood what all those fond looks meant. Hell, even before that you could tell, even if you didn’t quite know what types of gazes they were quite yet.
Always, you and your needs have come first. Always, they have kept your best interests in mind.
They always have, and they always will.
Always, and forever.
“You already know a few things to do if someone grabs you from behind,” Jongho’s voice draws your attention to the side of the room. “Now, we’re going to teach you how to use someone’s momentum against them in order to flip them onto their back. From there, you can pin them in multiple ways.”
“If you’re lucky, you can even use the momentum to dislocate someone’s shoulder.” San adds, an eager grin pulling at his lips as he explains this to you now.
The way your eyebrows raise in mild surprise has them all chuckling fondly.
“It helps when you can sense your opponent approaching, but this will still work even after they’ve grabbed you from behind.” San continues as Jongho begins to approach him.
The younger immediately attempts to grab the elder from behind. San, of course, is expecting him, so you watch as he bends his knees slightly in anticipation. As soon as Jongho reaches for San’s back, the elder is leaning forward, flipping the younger male onto his back and pinning him to the ground. Jongho wears an annoyed expression as San twists his one arm into the air, stepping on the younger’s chest with his one foot to pin him in place.
“Of course, you can always pin them by the throat when you step on them,” San states casually as he releases his hold on his younger brother, “but the chest will also suffice.”
“Thank you for your consideration,” Jongho grumbles as he pulls himself back onto his feet.
The corner of San’s lips twitch in response.
The next flip they show you is one where someone attacks you from the front. San charges at Jongho, only for the younger to duck beneath the elder, grab him by the thigh, and vault him over his back. Immediately, Jongho is spinning around, pressing his one knee into the elder’s chest as his hand settles right beside San’s head.
“This one, you have to be a bit quicker when pinning your opponent, for they could potentially recover quickly. If that happens, you can miss the opportunity to get your hands around their throat.”Jongho explains, looking up and meeting your gaze as he pushes himself off of the elder male.
“Of course, if you’re holding a weapon, it changes the position of things, but makes taking out your opponent easier in certain cases.” San adds, standing back to his feet and dusting himself off briefly. “But these work, even against opponents bigger than you are.”
“The key gets to be the momentum so you’re not dead lifting your opponent,” Jongho goes on to say. “At least for now.”
“Makes sense,” you nod your understanding as you roll your shoulders, standing a little straighter. “Can you show me a few more times?”
“Of course, Baby,” San smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides.
Both he and Jongho eagerly move back into position, switching between who flips who. Each time, they can feel your calculating gaze on them, analyzing their movements.
“Whenever you’re ready, you can practice on one of us,” San nods in your direction.
“Or us!” Wooyoung offers, quite enthusiastically at that.
You grin back, a light chuckle escaping your lips. “Alright.”
Not even two minutes later, you find yourself running through the steps of flipping someone with both San and Jongho. One approaches from the front, while the other approaches from behind. Once you’re comfortable in the movements, and they’ve subsequently given you some pointers as you run through them, you’re ready to attempt to flip and pin them in real time.
The moment you feel Jongho at your back, it’s as if instinct kicks in. Despite only learning the movements a short while ago, it’s as if they are second nature to you. The fluidity of which you flip Jongho with surprises even them, your eyes as wide as his are as you pin him to the ground with a foot on his chest.
“You’re a natural, Dearest.” Yeosang hums, pride rumbling with his chest as he observes the scene before him.
Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh. “Seeing you knock Jongho on his ass is something I never knew I needed until now.”
At the way the youngest takes a menacing step towards the elder male once he’s back on his feet, you laugh. The way Wooyoung immediately raises his hands in his own defence has amusement dancing in your eyes, his grin soon mirroring your own.
“Careful, Woo,” Mingi nudges the younger male with his knee, “or you might be next."
“It’s not a threat if I’m looking forward to it,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows flick upwards suggestively in your direction.
“Should I make you wear that belled collar now?” You quirk a brow, pure mirth shining within your gaze.
“Again, not a threat if you know I’ll enjoy it.” He hums, eyes glinting deviously.
Another smack resounds around the room, the younger male rubbing at the back of his head seeing as both Mingi and Yeosang had smacked him.
“Could you imagine Captain in this scenario?” The grin that tugs at the corner of San’s lips is nothing short of devious.
“I don’t think our eldest would fair much better.” Yeosang hums, amusement dancing on his features.
“They have always loved the idea of you roughing them up a bit,” Jongho chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“They’re not the only ones.” Wooyoung grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.
Again, his comment receives him a smack upside the head from both Yeosang and Mingi. Though, Yeosang seemingly avoids your gaze, clearing his throat in the next moment.
“Don’t worry, Starlight, we’ll all keep them in check,” Mingi assures you with a light smile, of which you return.
“I’m not worried, Min,” you chuckle, turning back to face San in the next moment. “Not in the slightest.”
A moment’s pause.
“Ready, Baby?” He asks, shifting his stance slightly in preparation.
All he receives is a nod from you, determination shining once more in your eyes.
He moves.
Again, it’s like you act on instinct, the movements appearing as if they are second nature to you. San gets flipped over your back, you turning to pin him to the ground in the next second. Your one hand rests on his upper chest, just below his throat as your knee digs into his lower abdomen. The way your fingers twitch slightly along the base of his neck has a shiver running up his spine.
A brilliant smile stretches across your features as you move off of him, much too soon for his liking.
“How was that?” You help him back to his feet.
“You’re a quick study, Darling.” Jongho praises, loving the way you seem to stand a little straighter at his words.
“It’s cause I have such good teachers,” you hum, warmth flooding your chest as you see them all smiling back at you fondly.
“Let’s run through everything we’ve gone over today a few more times, then call it.” San tells you, seeing you nod your head in understanding along with his words.
Another brief silence settles around all of you as you go over all of the stances, techniques, and manoeuvres they’ve taught you. Pride fills their chests at how well you seem to pick everything up, both San and Jongho only needing to fix your positioning a few times throughout the review.
“Once you know a few more things, and have these down, we can start sparring with one another.” San grins, helping you with some cooldown stretches to make sure your muscles won’t be too sore afterwards.
“Would you guys ever let me observe you when you spar with one another?” You voice casually, noticing how San stiffens the slightest bit before you as Jongho quirks a brow.
“If that is what you wanted, Darling,” Jongho grins, eyes flashing towards his brothers, “we’d be more than happy to oblige.”
You hum, nodding your head slightly. “Good to know.”
“We’ll save that for next time, though.” Mingi says, finally standing back to his feet and stretching out his back.
“Did you want to observe us sparing with our weapons, or without?” Yeosang asks, turning towards you as you hoist yourself off of the mat after finishing your round of stretches.
“Both would be cool,” you reply, an eager gleam in your eyes. “I haven’t really seen any of you in proper action, so I’ll take anything and everything I can get.”
“We can get pretty intense when we fight one another, Dearest.” Yeosang continues. “We don’t hold back at all.”
“You can’t improve that way.” Wooyoung shrugs, heading over to the stairs with the rest of you following behind.
“We used to place bets on one another depending on who was fighting,” San recalls with a chuckle, flicking off the lights as you all head back to the main floor.
“I miss those bets sometimes,” Mingi sighs, almost wistfully.
“I almost lost an arm the last time we did that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes downcast.
“Not my problem,” San huffs out an amused breath.
You snort out a laugh. “I take it you can’t regrow limbs?”
“Unfortunately, it’s one of the things we can’t do.” Yeosang confirms. “Doesn’t mean we can’t reattach them, though.”
“So, you guys are virtually indestructible and immortal?” You let out a low, impressed whistle.
“Definitely not invincible, but damn near close.” Wooyoung grins at you.
“Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty hard to live without your head.” You comment, pushing the door open to the main floor and stepping out into the hallway.
“Which one?” Yeosang’s inquiry, combined with his completely deadpanned expression, has you faltering only briefly in your steps.
A boisterous laugh escapes your lips.
“Oh my god,” you lift a hand to support yourself against the wall as your chest heaves with laughter. “Depends. Which one do you use more to think with?”
“I don’t think you want to know our answers,” San mumbles, suddenly avoiding your gaze as he walks down the hall.
“I think I just got mine.” You snort out another laugh, leaning yourself fully against the wall.
At the halfhearted shrugs Mingi, Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang all give you, you find you can only smile and shake your head.
A few steps later and you find yourself just outside of your room. Stepping through the threshold reveals Kuroo curled up on that Snorlax beanbag chair off to the side. A spot of which you’re sure is one of his many favourites throughout the house.
“Thanks for today,” you smile faintly, leaning against the doorframe.
“Of course, Darling,” Jongho returns the look, that all too familiar fondness shining within his eyes. “We’ll work on some more strengthening exercises tomorrow.”
“Sounds good to me.” You nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need a shower.”
“Want some company?” Before any of his brothers can stop him, the words are out of Mingi’s mouth. The way his lips quirk upwards, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, has you shaking your head in amusement.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves there, Min.” You grin, your one brow twitching upwards slightly. The way you see his shoulders visibly deflate, even the slightest bit, has you chuckling. At least Mingi ignores all the pointed looks his brothers are sending him for the moment. “Maybe next time.”
You don’t give any one of them a chance to properly process your words before you’re shutting the door in all of their faces. Though, at the pleased growls you can hear echoing from the opposite side of the door, you know they’ve finally registered them in their minds.
The mere thought of you allowing them to bathe with you excites them more than it should, even those who have already gotten to experience such an intimacy with you. Once is never enough, nor will it ever be enough. Not when it comes to you.
Moving over to your bathroom, you’re quick to strip yourself of your sweaty clothes and hop into the shower. The water is refreshing against your skin, and in no time at all, you find yourself relaxing beneath the spray.
Half an hour later, and you’ve finished freshening up. A clean pair of comfortable clothes rests over your figure, the familiar material of your favourite hoodie wrapping around you. The way you can faintly smell hints of apple clinging to the fabric has a smile tugging at your lips. Looks like Jongho was the last to wear it.
Exiting your room, you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water. Taking a sip, you begin to make your way through the house, figuring you’ll head over to the library to catch up on some reading for the rest of the day. Only, as soon as you step foot into the foyer, a familiar black crow greets you, resting comfortably on Yunho’s left shoulder.
“Hello there, Stella,” you smile as she glides over to perch herself on your own shoulder. “What a lovely surprise. What brings you here today?”
“She brought some news for us.” Seonghwa appears from down the hallway, Hongjoong at his side. A book seems to be held in the eldest’s hand as they all turn to look at you.
“Though, she didn’t come alone.” Yunho breathes, a worried furrow to his brow.
“Someone got through the wards again?” Immediately, panic begins to consume you, your whole body tensing right before their very eyes.
The way they see fear spark behind your gaze has a cold sense of dread rushing down each of their spines. They only wish you didn’t have to experience such negative thoughts or emotions again. Yet, they know, they only have themselves to blame.
“No, My Love,” Hongjoong is quick to assure you, coming to stand beside you as he places a comforting hand onto your arm. “She wanted to bring someone, but they won’t be allowed in until we go to retrieve them.”
“Oh,” you find you’re instantly breathing a sigh of relief.
“Sorry, Petal, I should have clarified,” the worried crease in Yunho’s brow has yet to smooth over as he takes a small step closer to you.
“No one but us can enter our domain.” Seonghwa’s voice is firm, reassuring not only you, but all of them in the front foyer as well. “We’ve made extra sure of that, now.”
“Good,” you nod, blinking a few times to clear your vision before looking over at the three of them. “Then, who did she want to bring?”
“Someone who might be able to provide us insight on Miyeon’s plans, even after her death.” Yunho states, and you notice how stiff he stands.
Placing a gentle hand on his one arm, you notice how your touch immediately relaxes him.
“We wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it before we allowed her into our domain. We’ve mentioned her to you before, but you’ve never met her yet.” Hongjoong says, meeting your gaze. “Otherwise, we’d go to her. We just simply have better privacy here.”
You nod your understanding. “Do you trust her?”
The three males share a look between each other.
“We do.” Yunho nods once in confirmation. “At least, for the moment.”
“Besides, if she tried anything, she wouldn’t get very far.” Seonghwa adds, grip tightening the slightest bit on the book in his hands.
“Alright,” you blink. “Then, bring her in.”
Three nods are all you receive in response before you’re all moving to accommodate the new presence they are about to bring in.
Which is exactly how you find yourself face to face with Mina in the dining room two minutes later. All of the guys surround you, Stella perched precariously on the back of your chair.
You sit at one head of the table, the chair turned outwards to face Mina as she stands directly across from you. Seonghwa rests off to your left, that book resting open before him as he looks over some ancient spells with Jongho to his left. Ancient spells that might allow them access to Mina’s locked memories.
Both San and Mingi stand behind you, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed over their chests. Their gazes are sharp, unforgiving as they stare her down.
Yunho stands the closest to Mina, senses on high alert as he monitors her mind for any sudden shift in demeanour. Slowly, carefully, he begins to attempt weaving through that jumble of memories once more.
To your right, stands both Hongjoong and Yeosang. Wooyoung leans casually against the far end of the table, his hands supporting himself on the edge. Each male watches Mina closely, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Stiffly, you sit in your chair, eyeing the woman before you cautiously. You know for a fact that they can all hear how frantically your heart is racing inside of your chest at this very moment, but none of them say anything. The only comfort you get for the moment is Hongjoong’s one hand tenderly placed atop your right shoulder, grounding you in this moment.
In your left hand, your therapy pebble resides, thumb brushing over the smooth side in tandem.
You take a deep breath in to steady your nerves.
“Thank you for agreeing to let me speak with you on such short notice, Your Majesties.” She bows lowly as she addresses all of you. “It is an honour to be allowed inside your home.”
Your brow twitches the slightest bit upwards as you watch her sink to her knees before you. Even more shocking, is when she formerly bows to you, pressing her forehead against her hands on the ground.
“An even greater honour, still, to be formally graced by your presence, My Queen.” She breathes, a slight tremble to her voice. Almost as if she’s nervous, not about how they might react, but how you might perceive her. “I count myself truly lucky to appear before you today.”
Her words catch you so off guard that your thumb stills over your stone.
You blink in shock, a momentary silence settling over the room. That’s when you realize, they’re all waiting for you to speak. All eight of them are allowing you to take the lead right now. You control the flow and outcome of this meeting, and they are more than ready and willing to act upon any of your wishes at a moment’s notice.
You exhale lowly once more to steady your nerves.
“Lift your head.” You surprise even yourself at how commanding your tone is. “Mina, is it?”
She meets your gaze, nodding softly. “Yes, Your Majesty. That is correct.”
The way she continues to address you so formally while remaining on her knees before you, throws you for a loop. You’ve never had anyone other than the eight men within this same room refer to you as such. Yet, hearing it from someone else’s mouth feels different. Something you’ll definitely have to get used to.
“Miyeon was your sister.” You state, rather firmly.
“She was.” Mina confirms, the subtlest of downturns to her lips.
Your hand tightens around that little pebble held within your grasp.
“Are you aware of the extent she went to in attempts to destroy me?” There’s a slight shift in your voice, a dullness that wasn’t there before as you continue to stare the female before you down.
Mina’s expression falls, shame washing over her features. “I am aware my sister had her own, private vendetta against you. However, I am unaware of the direct actions she has taken against you, Your Majesty.”
You tilt your head slightly, noticing the carefulness of her choice of words.
“I will not ask for you to forgive her, Your Majesties, for she does not deserve it.” Mina is quick to continue, diverting her gaze to the side as a hint of bitterness begins to coat her words. “She has brought great shame to our clan, and if I had known before what she had been capable of, I would have done everything in my power to stop her.”
“Hindsight is nice, after the fact,” Wooyoung spits rather harshly, his whole body visibly shaking as he pushes himself off of the side of the table.
Gently, you brush against that all too familiar pure white string inside your mind, and you watch as his shoulders relax. Even if only slightly.
Carefully, you study Mina before you.
“You were aware, to some extent, what she had planned for me.” Not a question, but a statement.
A second of hesitation. “Yes, My Queen.”
Both San and Seonghwa nearly lunge for her right then and there. Even Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Yeosang find it difficult to hold themselves back from skinning her alive this very second. Only, the way you shift forward in your seat, lifting your right hand upwards slightly in pause halts them in their tracks.
“Why have you waited until now to disclose this information with us?” San’s voice is pointed, tone the darkest you’ve ever heard from him as his words boarder on a low growl. You don’t even have to be looking at him to know his chest is heaving in barely controlled rage.
“I wasn’t conscious of it before this morning.” Mina replies, fear beginning to shine behind her eyes.
“You’re remembering things?” Your head tilts forward, eyes narrowing slightly as you look at her.
“Ever since my sister’s passing, the lines are becoming less blurred.” Mina admits, beginning to nervously wring her fingers together in her lap as she sits back on her knees. “King Yunho told me to contact all of you should my memory begin to become clearer.”
“Which is why you’re here now.” You nod gently in understanding.
“I don’t remember everything,” she shakes her head slightly, tears of frustration lining her eyes. “It’s painful for me to attempt to shift through anything more than just basics, but I’m trying. I’m tired of my sister always getting whatever she wants, even in death.”
Something clicks inside your mind, and understanding paints your features. “You resent her, don’t you?”
Mina purses her lips, and you’re sure she’s about to deny it. That is, until she’s heaving a large sigh, her shoulders deflating as she averts her gaze to the ground.
“More than anything.”
You feel Hongjoong’s hand tighten its grip slightly on your shoulder.
You open up your void.
Even I was unaware of that fact, Petal. Yunho meets your gaze only briefly from across the room. Her mind never let on to that.
How could you tell? There’s nothing but curiosity in Wooyoung’s voice as he turns his head in your direction.
My sister and I weren’t always as close as we are now. You respond, standing from your seat. I’d know that look anywhere.
The movement draws all of their attention for the moment, Hongjoong’s fingers sinking a little firmer into your shoulder as he attempts to prevent you from taking another step forward. At the small, reassuring look you send his way, he backs off.
“This whole time, you’ve yet to address your sister by her name.” You observe, coming to crouch before her. That stone is still held tightly in your left hand, and you use it as a lifeline for the moment as you steel your nerves. “That’s pointed on your part.”
“She doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of having anyone speak her name more than is absolutely necessary.” Mina’s brow furrows, bitterness now clear on her features. “Once is too much.”
You hum, bringing a finger up to guide her gaze back to your own briefly. Once you have her attention, your eyes locked with her own, you notice she cannot look away.
“She always got what she wanted, didn’t she? No questions. No consequence.” You watch her eyes flash, a small scowl pulling at her lips. “How many times had you heard someone tell her that this would be the last time, only for it to become a blatant lie?”
“All she ever did was take and take until there was nothing left for her to desire anymore,” Mina spits, her hands now clenched into fists at her sides. “Even if she had the entire world, it would never be enough for her.”
“She wanted it all, and she didn’t care who she took down in the process.” You add, watching as Mina nods furiously along with your words.
“Her two end goals were destroying you, and claiming the throne with King Yeosang at her side.” Mina confirms.
Little do you see the way all eight of them stiffen around the room. Yunho’s lids fall shut almost immediately, his eyes darting around every which way beneath them as he continues to work to untangle that thread of memories while you speak.
“I’m sure Dimitri didn’t like that idea all that much,” you hum, a slight quirk to your brow.
“No, the warlock was none too pleased to learn of that little detail in her plan-“ Mina’s breath hitches, voice suddenly failing her.
A collective stillness passes over the room.
“Dimitri was with you the day she came for a visit, wasn’t he?” You press, watching every twitch of her features carefully.
“Yes!” A flash of clarity shines within Mina’s eyes, of which widen suddenly. “Yes, Your Majesty. He was!”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yunho nodding subtly.
Mina begins to blink rapidly, brow tugging downwards as she suddenly clutches the side of her head in pain. Her breathing starts to become laboured, and you can see her eyes darting every which way around the room.
“Hey, hey,” you draw her attention to you once more, expression softening as you gently clasp her free hand in your own. “Look at me.” She does, eyes fixated on your own at your command. Firmly, you press that stone still held in your one hand against the skin of her palm, grounding her to you. “Get her out of your own head.”
Mina’s eyes squeeze shut. “She’s not alone.”
“It’s Dimitri, isn’t it?” Your voice is gentle, much softer than it had been only a moment before.
She nods, no longer able to verbalize her responses.
“She hurt him, too.” You say. “She killed his wife and two children to grab hold over him.”
“Family never meant much to her, anyways.” She replies, sadly. “I wondered why he looked so sad.”
“Sad?” You inquire, tilting your head slightly as you move to rest on your knees before her.
“He held himself firmly, but you cannot hide a broken interior.” Mina breathes, squeezing your hand slightly in her own.
“No,” you hum in agreement, understanding flashing within your gaze. “You truly can’t.”
Slowly, you push yourself back to your feet, noticing how Mina opts to remain on her knees before you. Carefully, she leans her head forward to rest on you hands still holding onto her own.
“Thank you, My Queen,” a tear lands on your skin, followed by another, and then another. “Thank you.”
“Whatever for, Mina?” Your brow furrows slightly as you continue to stare down at her.
The way she looks up at you in awe, gratitude shining within her teary eyes, has your breath hitching in your throat.
“You understand me.” She squeezes your hand once more. “My mind feels lighter because of you.”
“I doubt that was because of me,” you smile faintly, eyes briefly darting over towards where Yunho stands off to the side, his gaze already fixated on you. The pride you can see swirling within him as he looks at you so fondly has a warmth blooming in your chest, a subtle heat creeping up your neck. A look that you have no doubt is mirrored on seven other male’s faces behind you as you can feel their stares locked on your very figure.
“I don’t remember everything, yet,” she continues, a slight furrow to her brow as she attempts to recall more of her locked memories, “but things are starting to become clearer.”
“Were you able to tell us all that you came here for today?” You slowly help her back onto her feet, staring into her eyes as she stands across from you.
“I believe so,” she takes a moment to contemplate your words. At the way you raise an eyebrow, she blinks. “I remembered seeing another figure in my memories with her. I realize now it was Dimitri. She hardly ever did ‘meetings’ with Malik present.”
At her words, a mild surprise pulls at more than just your own features.
“Malik was used for more behind the scenes operations for the rebellion.” She adds. “Miyeon didn’t trust him to do the true dirty work. Hell, she didn’t trust anybody.”
You hum, somewhat in feigned understanding. “What a sad life to lead.”
“Indeed.” Mina confirms. Then, in the next moment, she’s blinking, as if remembering where she is, and who she stands before. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, pulling her hands out of your grasp as a vibrant red spreads across her cheeks. “Oh my, I am so sorry for intruding on your personal space like that, Your Majesty.”
Frantically, she begins to bow, eyes darting around the room to look at the eight males still observing the scene before them.
“It’s okay, Mina.” You chuckle, gently grasping her arms as you straighten her in her spot. The poor girl looks like a deer caught in headlights as you drop your hands back to your sides. “I’m sorry for invading your personal space.”
The red across her features darkens as she averts her gaze bashfully. “I don’t mind at all, My Queen.”
Low growls of warning echo around the room from each male present. Only, they’re cut off by your boisterous laughter.
“Oh, Reina would love you.” You grin, taking a step back from the demon fidgeting before you beneath the intense stares of all Eight Kings of the Realm. You snort, moving back beside Hongjoong for the moment and nudging him gently. “Will you all knock it off.”
Immediately, the tension is lessoning within the room.
Mina clears her throat. “Who’s Reina?”
“Never you mind for now,” you chuckle, tucking that small stone into the front pocket of your jeans. “I’m sure you’ll meet her sooner, than later.”
“I hope to be able to gain her favour, then.” Mina bows her head slightly. “She sounds important to you.”
Again, you hum in acknowledgement. “Depends. Do you like photography?”
There’s something endearing about the way Mina smiles shyly. “In all honesty, I’ve always had a passion for it, My Queen.”
“Starlight, I don’t think now is the time to be playing matchmaker.” Mingi takes a step forward, to which you spare a glance at him from over your shoulder.
You shrug, sitting back down in you seat for the moment. “I’m just looking out for my girl.”
Hongjoong chuckles softly before turning back to face Mina in front of you.
“Is there anything else we should know about?” His voice commands the room, and even you find yourself straightening slightly in your spot.
“I have said all that I have come here to say.” Mina bows once more. “I thank you again for allowing me to seek council in your own domain, Your Majesties.”
All she receives is a few curt nods in response from the eight of them while you smile kindly at her from across the way. A moment later, and Stella has flown over to Mina’s shoulder, perching there as Yunho teleports them both out of the room.
As soon as you’re alone with the eight of them once more, a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto lifts from your shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief, you practically deflate into the chair.
“Where did that come from?” Wooyoung’s tone holds nothing but pleasant surprise as they all look at you for the time being.
You spare a sudden nervous glance around at all of them now that their gazes are locked on you. “I’m sorry?”
The way your voice trails upwards at the end of your sentence has Yeosang, Yunho, and Jongho all raising their brows amusedly at you.
“What ever would you need to apologize for, My Love?” Hongjoong kneels beside you, taking your hand into his own. Nothing but pride shines behind his eyes as he meets your gaze, gently bringing the back of your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss upon your skin. “You handled that beautifully.”
Mingi steps in behind you, gently brushing his hand over the top of your head. “Our Queen.”
Eight content rumbles reach your ears, and you find you cannot prevent the way warmth blooms on your cheeks once more.
“I thought I totally messed that up.” You admit lowly, sinking further into the chair you’re in.
“Not at all, Petal,” Yunho shakes his head, loving smile stretching across his features. “Because of you, I was able to untangle more of that knot of memories within her mind.”
“Really?” For the second time that day, you fail to hide how hopeful you sound. At the way he nods, you cannot prevent the way a large smile tugs at your lips.
“What else did you find?” Yeosang turns towards the taller male.
“Everything she spoke was the truth,” Yunho says, a firm nod to his head. “That, and Mina had to be held back while her sister and Dimitri implemented such a charm on her mind. Though, It seems she’s right about Dimitri. Perhaps we might be able to free his mind once we free her own.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” You reply, looking around at all of them.
“To an extent.” Seonghwa confirms. “We still know next to nothing about her plans with Malik, or when and where they plan to strike.”
“We also have no idea why she chose her allies the way she did.” Jongho frowns, leaning forward to rest his one arm on the table.
Your own arms cross over your chest, gaze staring intently at the floor near your feet. A million different thoughts race through your mind for the moment, not all of them pleasant.
“Are the dragons the only ones we know of that have denied a proposition to form an alliance with her?” Your calculating gaze shifts from the floor to spare a look around at all of them.
“As far as we know.” Hongjoong confirms. “Only the sirens have betrayed us.”
“For now.” San huffs, a roll to his eyes.
“Dimitri’s hunters, witches, and warlocks might not have had a choice in the matter.” Yeosang moves to sit himself in one of the other chairs at the table beside you.
“Are there more of them than just the ones who ally with Dimitri?” You ask, curiosity gleaming within your eyes.
“There are,” Mingi confirms with a slight grimace, “but there aren’t many you want to be associating yourself with. Those are the ones who only do business with you if it benefits them greatly. Most of the time, they’re the ones who make sure you end up dead.”
“There are also those that remain undiscovered.” Wooyoung adds, leaning once more against the side of the table.
“Undiscovered?” You tilt your head slightly.
“Either they choose to remain hidden to live in peace, or they are unaware of the power they possess.” Seonghwa explains.
“Ah, I see,” you hum in understanding. “So, attempting to find them is essentially a waste of time.”
“Essentially,” San agrees. “Unless you know where to look.”
“We don’t have time for that.” Yeosang shakes his head.
“We could always proposition the lycans,” Mingi suggests. “They’re always itching for a good fight to expel their energy.”
“If the gorgons and harpies fail, we might just have to.” Hongjoong’s lips pull downwards as he lets out a long exhale through his nose.
“I just can’t figure out what she could have possibly promised them to sway them onto her side.” Yunho stares deeply at the top of the table, wracking his brain for a solution to a problem he can’t quite comprehend.
“I doubt they would have agreed if she told them she had plans to rule over everything.” You voice, jaw twitching slightly as your mind continues to race.
“Everything?” Yeosang meets your gaze, confusion clear in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“I have a theory, and I don’t think any of us are going to like it very much.” You grimace slightly, standing back to your feet in the next moment.
“What are you thinking, Darling?” Jongho watches as you turn around to face him and his brothers fully.
You let out a brief exhale through your nose. “I need to talk to Wyno.”
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