#but this game? I know next to nothing about it

[luvyeni]

⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!

he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.

he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.

he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”

heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.

you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.

“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.

you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!

you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”

you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”

he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”

you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”

he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”

that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.

because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.

you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…

©️LUVYENI

[papaya-twinks]

Your smuts are PERFECT. would you write a smut about lando having a sex playlist? I feel like a sex playlist is so lando

mood - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, fingering

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - 1. Tyyyy, I’m glad you like my smut, I think I’m getting better each fic! 2. I don’t really have any sex songs so I searched some random ones!

It was a lazy Sunday when you found yourself going through Lando’s bag. He had tossed it carelessly on the couch after his race. You weren’t snooping - just curious.

His bag always seemed to hold little mysteries.

After digging through some race notes and half-eaten energy bars, you found his phone. You smirked. He never hid the password.

You opened the music app, knowing Lando’s playlists were always… interesting.

But this one was different.

The title: "The Mood."

You raised an eyebrow and pressed play. The first song was slow, sultry and sensual. The bass was deep, the rhythm steady, like it was designed to make you feel something.

The next track was just as smooth but with more bite. You scrolled through the rest…and there was definitely an underlying theme here.

Love To Love You Baby - Donna Summers

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

Superman - Eminem

Sex With Me - Rihanna

Each title seemed to say something more... suggestive. Before you could react, a voice from behind made you jump.

“Caught you, didn’t I?”

You spun around. Lando stood in the doorway, grinning with his signature, wicked little smile.

“Seriously?” you raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

He stepped closer, his grin widening. “You found my playlist, did ya? It’s for... special things.”

“Snooping isn’t a very nice thing to do, is it, hm?” he asked, stepped forwards, your back pressed to the wall as you held his phone in shaky hands.

“What d’you think it’s for?” Lando asked, his warm breath splaying across your skin as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“C’mon, let’s hear those thoughts,” he hummed, “is it for…gaming? Fun?”

His eyes were dark, teasing. You weren’t sure if he meant the playlist... or something else entirely.

“Wanna try it out?” he asked, slowly lacing his hand into yours as you nodded, following him upstairs.

“Excited?” he snickered as you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Your movements were messy. Hands roaming over his body and pulling his joggers down.

“Forgettin’ something,” Lando paused, turning the music on with one hand, using the other to wrap round your neck, pushing you onto the bed as you bounced.

The sultry of ‘Superman’ played as you feverishly pulled your skirt up, legs pushed apart by his long, thick fingers.

Fuck.

You moaned - legs quivering as he sunk his digit into your core, curling it as your silken walls clenched round him, a smirk on his face.

At the same time, your hand came to his cock, slowly pumping him up and down as he groaned. “Such a professional,” he mumbled as you teased his tip.

“Wanna be in you,” he said, reaching for a condom as you nodded.

You were needier than anything, watching how he rolled the rubber all the way down to his shaft somehow making your core drip with need, clit throbbing.

His cock twitched as he pressed his head, an angry shade of red, against your entrance.

“Fuck,” you both moaned in sink as he pushed in, his cock forcing your tight walls apart, your juices making it easier for him to slip into.

“Just like that,” he mumbled, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your neck as you wrapped your legs round his waist, pushing his hips forwards and completely sheathing him inside of you.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Lando groaned, not objecting to your need, his hips immediately moving at a blistering pace.

His harsh, deep strokes reached your g-spot in no time, your moans syncing with the melody of the song in the background, a contrast to the slow, sensual rhythm.

“Fuckin’ love you,” Lando grunted, leaning down to squeeze your breasts in his hand, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

You could do nothing but moan into his mouth as your core tightened round him, your bundle of nerves twitching as you reached a finger down, rubbing soft circles into your skin.

Lando hummed, moving your hand away to replace it with his own, slowly easing more pressure as you cried out, eyes rolling.

“How d’you like the songs then?” Lando asked, a smile on his face.

You nodded, almost limply, to his question, tongue poking from your lips as your core clenched.

Each slam of his hips sent a wave of pleasure to your mind, tits bouncing as you balled your fists in the duvet.

You could feel your orgasm threaten to spill through…and spill through it did.

“F-Fuck, Lando!”.

He only sped up, helping you break the wall as your thighs shook, toes curling with the pressure of the fire in your belly, your mind painfully aware of his where his cock was.

You couldn’t even form what song it was….some Lana Del Ray song about riding someone…god Lando was dirty.

You squeaked again as he slammed into you one last time, the rubber tightening round him as his cum spilled into it.

He panted for a few seconds, the room smelling of nothing but sex and sweat, the sound of your breathing and the songs in the background.

“Fuck,” Lando finally said, helping you stand up.

“Should’ve cummed in you,” he mumbled as you sighed, head on his chest. “Let’s clean up,” you said as he nodded.

“How was it? The music ‘n’ all,” he mumbled, walking you to the bathroom. “I liked it,” you said, “it was hot,”.

“Good,”.

Of course Lando has a sex playlist.

It was so…him.

[crossdressingdeath]

Because it's not about politics. Because it's about fighting gods as part of a ragtag team of experts. Which the game and devs have been very clear on since the start. DAO isn't "about Ferelden", it just mostly takes place in Ferelden and the politics that do appear show up only as they interfere with the main goal of ending the Blight and you can skip them (why does everyone forget that you can end the Landsmeet in a brawl if you can't be arsed to deal with the politics? The political side of DAO is mostly opt-in, the only exception is Orzammar). We don't learn shit about Ferelden or Orlais in DAI except in codex entries (mostly because they left that to supplementary materials, TME my beloathed, but the point still stands; WEaWH strips out so much of the political side of things that it basically becomes a popularity contest unless you know the lore before you go in). DA2 is an exception, but I already said that and it's working on a much smaller scale than the other games; DAO is about ending the Blight, DAI is about closing the Breach and stopping Corypheus, DAV is about defeating the gods, but DA2 is very much about Kirkwall. Us just going to Tevinter in a game that was very clearly not about Tevinter from the start is not an implicit promise of anything except going to Tevinter. Picking Tevinter's next Archon and helping the Shadow Dragons is about equal to the amount of political content we got in the previous game if nothing else! If someone is going to assume that going to Tevinter as part of a larger game that mostly takes place outside of Tevinter means a deep look into the setting's politics because when we went to Orzammar fifteen years ago we got to pick their king that's their prerogative, but the game never promised that. You can be disappointed that it didn't, sure, but there was never a promise, implicit or otherwise. Veilguard does plenty of things but it is not trying to do politics and it never said it was. Basically at the end of the day being disappointed that DAV wasn't what you wanted it to be is fine, it was never going to appeal to everyone (that's how making things works, after all) but it hasn't broken a promise by not about Tevinter politics because it never said it would be and the devs are at the end of the day not responsible for anyone's assumptions.

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT. Thank you Dorian for being the best once again and pointing out that hey maybe if the Chantry didn't treat their mages like shit and traumatize all of them they'd get possessed less often.

[lovesickonmybed]

living in your laundry | 18+

masterlist | series masterlist | info abt palestine | gaza fundraisers

pairing | vi x reader

synopsis | after coming back from the gym vi steals a pair of your panties.

tags | 18+, college au, masturbation, panty stealing/sniffing, sub!vi, dom!reader, use of toys, pervy!vi, fantasies, mutual masturbation, getting caught, mention of voyeurism, and dirty talk.

word count | 3k

a/n | the title is a reference to i wanna be your dog 2 by ajj which feels very vi coded. this is up on ao3 as well! thank you to @joeloverture for reading this over and helping me out.

Vi bobs her head to the music blasting through her headphones, muttering along to the lyrics of ‘XO’ by Fall Out Boy as she delivers hit after hit on the punching bag in front of her. The gym is empty except for her, her strange class schedule allowing her the alone time she missed having back home.

Her mind is filled with thoughts of you on her boot from two weeks ago. The game of truth or dare went better than either of you had expected. The past two weeks all she’s been able to think about are your moans and the look in your eyes as she bounced you on her boot. You were like nothing she had seen before; she wasn’t sure what it was but she was utterly obsessed. Thankfully, sharing a room together after hadn’t been as awkward as she anticipated, but that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty for sneaking glances when you’d change. Usually she was good at this kind of thing. She knew how to treat a woman right, but for some reason she felt…hesitant. The last time she’d been with a virgin she was one as well. She was worried she’d move too fast with you, so she didn’t move at all. 

The door to the gym opens behind her and a small group files in, all chatting amongst themselves. She takes that as her cue to leave and heads for the locker room door. She pushes her way inside and quickly inputs her combo. She slips her black t-shirt over her red sports bra and grabs her gym bag out of the locker. She puts one earbud back in as she starts on her way back to the dorm. 

She’s thankful to go to school in a state with a warmer climate so she can get away with wearing a t-shirt and biker shorts in November. 

Once back at the dorm she starts stripping off till she’s left in nothing but her sports bra and striped boy shorts. She heads into your shared bathroom to shower but stops once she sees a pair of red panties sitting atop the laundry basket. There’s a small pink rose sewn onto the front waistband. They’re cute, something Vi wished she had seen you in. She sets her clothing down and in an impulsive move she swipes the pair from the laundry basket and heads back to her bed. She knows she shouldn’t, she knows your next class ends in 30 minutes, but despite this she gives in to her dirty thoughts. She grabs her mini wand from her nightstand and lays back on her bed, slipping a hand below her waistband. Her other hand brings the nylon fabric up to her nose, inhaling your scent and moaning against it. She slips her wand beneath her waistband, adjusting the divot to be pressed against her clit. She presses the on button as she slips the fabric over her head, adjusting it so the gusset is pressed against her nose. Her hips buck up at the feeling of the vibrations against her clit. Despite how often she uses this wand she’s just as reactive every time. 

She maneuvers the wand, pressing it harder against her clit as she starts to inhale your scent again. She sucks the fabric into her mouth as she imagines you walking in on her. She’d love nothing more than for you to find her like this, sucking on your panties as she inhales the scent of your cunt, hand shoved down her pants maneuvering her wand against her clit. She can imagine you pulling the panties from your face, glaring down at you, the only sound in the room being your wand vibrating against your clit. She can imagine your face as you shake your head in disapproval, mocking words falling from your lips. “Pathetic…and here I was thinking you were a dom.” She whines loudly as she imagines it in your voice. “I am a dom,” she whines pathetically as if you’re there in the room with her. She bites her lip as she imagines how you’d snap back at her, “A dom doesn’t lay around with someone's panties over their head while they get off to the smell and taste of said panties.” She mutters, “Shut up,” and takes another smell of your panties.  

She knows she’s pathetic having these thoughts of you mocking her, she knows she’s perverted for stealing your panties to use like this but fuck does she love it. She clicks the button on her wand, causing the speed to pick up. She whines loud and spreads her legs wide, putting her feet up on the bed. She maneuvers the wand against her clit as she writhes against it. Thoughts of you continue to flood her brain, the way the water droplets ran down your leg when you got out of the shower last night. The bathroom door was open just far enough for her to catch a glimpse and feel immediately guilty for it. She thinks of how you whined when you were struggling with your math homework and how you looked at her with puppy dog eyes and begged her to join you on your bed to help. She obliged of course, how could she ever say no to you. Just as she feels herself reaching her climax she thinks of your face when you came on her boots. She whines your name when she comes, it comes out more pathetic than she planned.

She turns her vibrator off and lays her legs flat to give herself a moment to rest, reaching up to pull your panties off her face. She uses them to clean herself up and once she feels like her legs won’t burst into jelly as soon as she steps off the bed she makes her way into the shared bathroom and discards the pair atop the laundry pile. She spends her shower feeling guilty for what she did, for the first time in her life she feels dirty. She hopes the water is hot enough to wash that guilt right off her skin.

She avoids your gaze that night, she fears that somehow just by looking into her eyes that you’ll know every dirty detail of what she did. How she got off to you and your smell, how she desecrated such a cute pair of your panties like that. She swears to herself that she’ll never do it again…but just three days later she spots another pair atop the laundry pile and she can’t help but swipe it for a later use. Surely you won’t notice one pair going missing, maybe someone mixed them up with theirs in the communal laundry room, it’s believable enough for Vi to get away with it. 

The next night when you’re out with friends she slips the pair out from her nightstand along with her wand. She takes her time stripping down to her sports bra and black briefs before making herself comfortable on her bed. She brushes a finger over her lower lip and trails her hand down to her breasts. She slips a hand beneath the fabric of her bra and squeezes the tender flesh. She lets out a breathy moan and rolls her nipple between her fingers. She imagines it’s you, she kneads her flesh till she’s satisfied and moves to her other breast and makes sure to give it the same attention, she knows you would if you were the one doing this to her. She slips your panties over her face just like she did only a few days ago and moans at your scent, she slips the wand beneath her waistband and turns it on. She’s whimpering your name in no time, mumbling out all the things she desperately needs you to do to her. She’s so caught up in her fantasy that she doesn’t even hear her text notification go off. It’s from you.

Hey, plans ended up falling through. Heading back now. 

She continues on, writhing pathetically as she once again imagines you catching her. She imagines you coming back from a party, all dolled up with body glitter covering every inch of visible skin. Almost how you looked earlier when you left for a concert with your friends. She thinks about the sound of your platform shoes against the floor, stalking towards her menacingly as you tut. “Mind telling me what you’re doing with my panties over your face like that?” All she can do is whimper, she imagines your voice as commanding and intimidating. She keeps on with her fantasy, she wishes you’d make her ride your boots like she had you. She’s been eyeing those platforms you wore tonight for awhile now. 

She’s so caught up in her thoughts she doesn’t even hear the door creak open, but she does hear your purse hit the floor and your loud gasp. You slam the door shut, backing yourself up against it. “O-Oh my god…I-I-” You’re fully at a loss for words, all you can do is stammer. You cover your eyes with your hands. 

Vi is quick to rip your panties from her face and struggles for a second to turn the wand off. “Shit…Listen, I can explain-”

You cut her off, “Was…” you take a second to catch your breath, “Was that my underwear on…on your face?” You ask shakily, hands still covering your eyes.

“Yes, it was. I’m so sorry…” Vi has no idea what to really say. There’s no explaining her way out of this, it’s pretty damn clear what she was doing. If you need extra clarification you can just look at the wand sticking out of her briefs.

“Were you sniffing them?” You ask quietly.

Vi sighs, “Yes…”

“Jesus christ, Vi. Why do you even have those? Where did you get them from?” 

“The laundry basket…I…I like how you– how they smell,” Vi answers meekly, hiding her face in her hands. 

“So you put them over your nose and got off imagining me?” You move closer to the bed, removing her hands from her face and making her look at you. “Come on, look at me when you admit it.” 

Vi’s cheeks go red and she chokes on air, “W-What?” Your voice has taken on the commanding tone from her fantasies. Vi reaches down and pinches her wrist just to make sure it's really happening. 

“Go on, don’t get shy now. That would just be pathetic,” you laugh. 

“Where the hell was this side of you two weeks ago?!” Vi exclaims, still clutching your panties in her hand. The lacy fabric wet from where she licked them.

“Where was the side of you that sneaks into girls' laundry baskets and steals their panties to huff while you get off, huh perv?” You retort.

“I thought you were a virgin?” She’s looking you up and down, pure confusion across her face.

“Never said I wasn’t. Can’t a virgin be a switch? Can’t a virgin get wet when they see their pervy roommate huffing their panties with a vibrator stuffed down her pants?” You laugh.

“So you’re not weirded out by this, by me?” Vi’s voice comes out a little shaky, almost unsure. 

“It’s a bit weird, don’t get me wrong. But, luckily for you I like it. I wish I watched you a little longer, god…I bet you’d look pretty coming with my panties over your face.” You move your hand to take your panties back from her. Your face scrunches up when you feel the wet spot, “Vi why the fuck are they wet? Did you wear them or-”

Vi’s face turns even redder, “I licked them…I wanted to taste you,” she sounds ashamed, but you like that. 

“Could’ve just had me make another mess on your boots,” you joke, eyeing Vi’s boots near the door. An image flashes in your mind of how she looked down at you, how she tugged at the front of your panties to bounce you against the shoe.

“God, don’t tempt me cupcake…y’know, I could return the favor on those pretty boots you’re wearing right now,” Vi says, her eyes shifting down to the platform combat boots that adorn your feet. 

“Ya gonna steal my boots to masturbate now too, pervert?” You snort.

Vi smacks you lightly, “I was gonna offer to ride them for your entertainment but I’ll take that offer back if you’re gonna be like that.”

You roll your eyes at her, “I guess I’ll be missing the show of a lifetime, hm? How about you give me a different show? I wanna see how you were using my panties before I interrupted.”

“I-I can do that,” Vi stammers. She��s always been so bold, but with you all that confidence seems to disappear. 

You toss the panties back to Vi and sit on your bed, you bend down to unzip your boots and look up at Vi, “Go on. I’ll give you a show too.” You go back to removing your shoes and do it slowly. Vi slips your panties back over her face like she did before, positioning it so the leg holes work as eye holes so she can still watch you. She clicks the wand back on and moves her hand to her breast as she watches you undress. Beneath your platform boots are a pair of thick socks and black fishnets adorned with tiny rhinestones. She squeezes her breast as you remove the socks, holding them up for her to see and giggling.

“Could always gag you with these. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Vi nods furiously, she’d love nothing more than for you to do whatever you’d like to her. 

“We’ll save it for another time, I’d like to hear you. Go on, don’t be shy, Cupcake,” you tease, stealing the nickname and using it against her.

Vi whines and continues on, she watches as you reach behind yourself and unzip your black leather skirt. You stand and shimmy the skirt down your legs, Vi wishes she was taking it off of you. She focuses her eyes on the little black g-string beneath your skirt. She wants to tug at it and hear you squeal for her. You sit back down on the bed and spread your legs for Vi. You slowly remove your shirt for her, pulling the black tank top up and over your head. You’re wearing a black lacy bra that goes perfect with your g-string. “Were you planning on someone seeing that tonight?” Vi asks, her voice husky. 

You chuckle and shake your head no, “Just you when I changed into my pajamas tonight.”

She whines at that and lays back to get more comfortable, she spreads her legs as wide as they’ll go and maneuvers her wand against her clit as she watches you. 

You move your hands to your breasts, massaging them over your bra, the lace almost tickling you. You lean your head back and moan. Vi loves how you sound, if she could she’d replay that sound for the rest of her life. Vi writhes and whimpers as you slide your hands down to your thighs, beginning to massage them as well. You begin to rub yourself over your g-string. You close your eyes and let out a breathy moan. The room is soon filled with sounds of pleasure from you and Vi, getting yourselves off for one another. Vi has to fight the urge to beg you to touch her, but she doesn’t want to push things too far. She’ll enjoy whatever you feel comfortable giving her. The two of you come closer and closer to climax, Vi getting there quicker thanks to the help of her toy. Her eyelashes are fluttering and she’s squirming and whining so pathetically. You’re leaning back on your elbows, legs spread while you’ve got one hand on your breast and the other on your clothed cunt. You’re mumbling Vi’s name between whimpers and moans. Your body glitter shines beneath the wall lights that decorate your side of the room, you look angelic. If Vi could she’d frame this moment on her wall for eternity. 

With one more moan of your name Vi reaches her climax, legs falling and her head shooting back. Her hips arch up as she comes, fingers digging into the fabric of her comforter. She gets one last whiff of your panties as she comes down from her high. You follow her lead soon after, falling limp and muttering her name. You both lay there catching your breath. Vi reaches up and removes your panties, using them to clean herself up just like before. Vi stands and stumbles her way over to your bed. She steadies herself against your bed and looks down at your blissed out face. Your mascara is slightly smudged beneath your eyes, your skin glistening. “You’re so pretty,” Vi whispers, reaching over and pushing your hair out of your face.

You smile up at her, “You are too…c’mere.” You extend your hand for her to grab and pull her down onto the bed with you. She cuddles up next to you and buries her face in the crook of your neck. 

“I was worried about the kind of roommate I’d get y’know,” Vi chuckles. “I definitely didn’t expect this to happen, but I'm glad it did.”

You smile over at her, “Me too. You’re lucky I like pervs like you.”

Vi rolls her eyes, “Shut up, brat. Don’t make me put you in your place again.”

“Oh no, don’t teach me a lesson,” You say sarcastically.

“You’d be so lucky.” 

“Mhm, I would,” you mumble before leaning over and kissing her forehead.

“What is this? What are we now?” You ask, reaching over to play with Vi’s hair.

She looks up at you, “Well, we don’t know much about each other yet, but I like whatever it is we’ve done. Friends with benefits maybe?”

“Hm, sounds nice to me.”

[takes1]

bokuto flirting with inexperienced!reader

nobody asked for this but i can't get this idea out of my head. second time i've written a kuroo's little sister thing and it just seems to read well imo?

warnings. nsfw themes, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / kuroo's little sister!reader / touchy!bokuto / flirty!bokuto / corruption kink!bokuto / virgin!reader / nerdy!reader / kuroo cockblocking / house party / protective kuroo / bokuto being a bad friend / bokuto crushing on you / 2.7k nsfw to follow, reply to be added to taglist

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my request box.

"The guys are comin' over at twelve." Tetsurou informed you with a flat tone. He didn't even look up from his phone as he swiped a banana from the counter.

"Don't care."

Your parents were gone on another business trip, meaning this weekend was a free for all. Your version of fun wouldn't sway far from your usual path, staying up, playing games on your laptop after you were done studying for finals; your older brother gravitated towards more social hobbies.

"Sooo, like," He spared a glance to see what you were doing, "Fuckin' scram. Before then."

Papers, handouts, and notebooks littered the breakfast counter. Your laptop played an educational video from one of your classes and you had propped your phone to look at another online text. One highlighter hit the floor a while ago but you hadn't picked it up yet.

When you didn't acknowledge him, completely in the zone, he scrunched up his nose.

"Did you hear me, dumbass?"

"Shuuuut-the-fuck-up-I'm-doooiiing-somethiiing."

In a colored pen, you inked in a corresponding bar from a practice problem so you could visualize the axes.

If you had checked the time, you would know you had maybe ten minutes before twelve to 'scram.'

One could smell the attitude coming off of him from a mile away. Though he didn't say anything to you, it was made crystal clear in the way he sucked his teeth at you and shoved a chair before he walked upstairs.

It wasn't, and would never be, explicitly spoken, but the reason he didn't want you around was because he knew some friends were just too weird around girls. Kenma was the only friend he trusted to be alone in a room with you, and that was because he didn't like anyone. The roster of guys coming over to play some Xbox, play a match in the backyard, drink up your parents' liquor, and sleep over could've been a suspect line if was asked to judge their moral character.

Your slow, neat line of pen for your next graph became a scribbled mess in less than a second as the doorbell started ringing in a slew of rapid presses.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING

"Get the door!" You yelled to the stairway, frustration waning only after a nasty sigh.

There was too much to move to your room. You didn't have enough space on your desk for a spread like this, even if you moved every current thing off of it.

Footsteps padded swift back down the steps, not even getting the opportunity to do what he intended to upstairs, and he jabbed a finger at you but you couldn't see.

"Hey!" He shouted. Like he was offended you raised your voice at him to grab the door.

You slammed your palms on the counter and took a breath to yell, just before he called to you from the door, incredibly stern, "Fuck off somewhere else."

"Get the stick out of your ass!" You rolled your eyes and, then and there, decided to not move for anything.

Tetsurou gritted his teeth and pulled open the door, but it didn't nothing to stop Bokuto from pressing the doorbell. Next to him was Akaashi, patiently watching the button-pressing. It was raining, so that meant no practice match; they would have to stay entertained inside.

His big, cheesy grin was hardly a relief, "Hey hey heyy, buddyy!"

"Hey," He said, distracted, thinking about how disastrous this might turn out. He wondered if it was too late to reserve space in the gym, or even cancel.

"Woah-ho-ho," Bokuto giggled at his less-than-enthusiastic greeting and squeezed past him, unwilling to wait outside for any longer, "Don't sound so excited!"

The big, hulking presence stopped in the doorway, hastily removing his wet jacket and shoes. He retold the events of getting here in the rain, sparing Akaashi a few seconds in between to fix his embellished details. He was speaking to Tetsurou at such a volume that you had to search for your earbuds to drown his loud mouth out.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDING--

Maybe all of his stupid friends would ring the bell the same way. Thankfully, he was right there to open it and tell the next two groups to stop.

Soon, your living room was filled with almost all of Nekoma (only a few of which you could recognize from the handful of his games you had attended), and some guys you had never seen before.

It got so loud, so fast.

Your stubborn streak wasn't serving you well. Despite the separation you got from the one wall between you and the entryway, all the sound still poured into the kitchen through the open layout. Your technology wouldn't hold up to how loud a bunch of high school guys could get.

Tetsurou slinked into the kitchen, slow, quiet despite you both staring at each other.

He slid next to you, elbow scrunching one of your precious papers. He had that shitty, low-lidded smirk on his face.

Another boisterous laugh sounded through from the other room and your wince was only proof of your predicament. It sounded like they were fighting, or wrestling, or something that needed to be done outside.

He whispered, "Are you ready to give up?"

"Once you drop dead," You whispered back, clicking your pen ready.

His nostrils flared at your resilience. "You aren't even studying--,"

"Sooo! Where's all that liquor you promised, Kuroo?"

You watched your brother freeze up at the new voice coming into the kitchen. It was genuine distress that flashed across his face for half a second - you wouldn't have had the chance to see it, if he wasn't so up in your business. You turned just in time to watch a guy who didn't go to your school strut in.

"Woah!" He looked straight past your brother, right to you, "Who's thiiis?"

Tetsurou put his hand on your shoulder, something he never did, so you brushed it off as he started, "This is my--,"

"Heyy, Pretty," Bokuto sang just to you, big eyes trailing up, down, and back again, blatantly ignoring his friend.

You laughed at the interaction between them and his nickname for you. He was super hot. It left your brother impatient.

He closed the distance to shake your hand, unable to keep his eyes on just your face.

"This is my little sister," Tetsurou asserted, louder, this time.

The palm on the guy was so huge that you couldn't grip it. His hand could've easily crushed yours but he chose to shake it gently, then held it with both hands when he closed more distance.

"Hmm," He chuckled, "Hey, little sister. My name's Bokuto, but you can call me Ace."

You told him your name in an enamored giggle- biting your lip when he cupped his ear to hear it again, so you repeated it, surely less intelligible.

"(Y/n)?" He asked, jovial, like he was trying to make you keep laughing. He succeeded, "That's nice, but I like Pretty better."

Tetsurou moved himself between you, not a big enough presence to make Bokuto stop touching you or talking in the slightest.

"It suits you, yeah?"

Your brother cleared his throat so loud that it sounded cartoonish. Your fingers slipped from his hand, despite his attempts to keep them all to himself, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down and away. His anger was tangible.

Tetsurou stepped in front of you and faced him. They went just outside of the open doorway. It left you to clean up your papers, laptop, pens, highlighters, books. He muttered many things, but you only caught:

"You serious?" Met with: "Relax, dude!"

"Do I need to worry about you the whole fucking weekend, bro?" Answered with: "Obviously not!"

"This is a line. Don't- don't cross it." Satisfied with: "Have some faith in me, bud, come on."

His friend drama wasn't your problem, but it was oh-so-entertaining to listen to. You fixed up your belongings very slowly so that when they came back, you didn't look so suspicious.

To your dismay, only Tetsurou came back in. He squinted at your gathered things.

"Good. Go upstairs," He said, so simple, with half of his attention on you, half on his friends horsing around in the living room, as if it was normal- as if you had ever tolerated him speaking to you like that before.

You threw a pen at his face, laughing loud with pure delight when it left a streak on his jaw. You had incidentally left it open.

There were few times you had seen him so indelibly angry.

The speed at which he nabbed the pen off of the the floor and hurled it back at you was worthy of a world-record. You only managed to dodge it because you knew what he was going to do before he did.

It shattered on the cupboard, ink exploding all over the floor, staining the counter.

There was almost no time to make a smartass comment, because as soon as you conjured one and inhaled to say it, something crashed in the living room. It sounded eerily mother's-favorite-vase-like.

He was teeming with contempt.

You didn't say anything back when he held his hand up, silently forbidding you from following him to investigate the now-silent room.

It was all his fault, when you thought about it. He dug his grave, since he decided on his own to have all of his rowdy friends over. It wasn't on you that he broke a pen, his friends broke a vase, and his best friend was so sweet to you in the first thirty minutes of the weekend starting.

While you could have left the mess for him to clean up, you didn't want to go upstairs just yet. Once you did, you'd have to justify coming back down. So, you pulled out some cleaning supplies under the sink and started picking up the little sharp plastic pieces of pen.

"Woah, what happened in here?"

You perked right up at the voice, somehow embarrassed to be found like this.

Bokuto threw a look over his shoulder before he fully came in. When he decided to enter, a big smile took up his whole face, making all his handsome features super friendly-looking.

He wasted no time sliding over the tile to squat next to you and inspect the damage.

"Tetsurou threw a pen," You said, quiet, avoiding his attentive stare.

He shook his head, disapproving, and started collecting the pieces with you. He gladly took your hand in his so he could place them in your palm. It was so unnecessary, but it made you giggle again.

"You like studying?" His head dipped to see more of your face, eyes bouncing around to take in all of your features.

It made you shy away and stand to throw the pieces out. But he followed just to watch you, amused at your mannerisms.

"Not really-," You squeezed past him, beginning to spray at and wipe off the ink, sparing a glance to your stuff on the counter, "I mean, there is something nice about it- but,"

Bokuto was too entranced by your lips to properly listen to you ramble. He glanced up to your eyes only on occasion, otherwise sporting an intense stare at your cute mouth, or the way you used your already busy hands when you spoke.

Soon you had told him too much, and there was no ink to clean up anymore, so you returned to sit on the stool next to the counter.

"I didn't know Kuroo had a sister," He sighed.

He chose not to sit, but to stand over you, just so that you had no option but to look up at him.

"Especially not one so cute," His knuckle grazed your warm cheek as you smiled at the floor, "God, you really are such a cutie, huh? You got a boyfriend?"

Your body braced at his touch. He took a step forward, one hand on the counter behind you.

"Mm-mm," You tried to meet his eyes, but it was impossible.

Staring at his body wasn't a bad deal, though. His shirt fit him nice and tight at the shoulders, then loosened, a little flowy at his waist thanks to his impressive build.

"That's good," His fingers dipped to your chin, gently bringing your face to look at him.

This you could only stand for a moment or two. You pushed his forearm down so he would stop touching your face, making you look this way and that.

He sighed, keeping his arm near you in case you wanted to keep your hands on him, but once he understood it wouldn't happen, he put it on the other side of you.

"I've- never had a boyfriend," You admitted, breathless at the pressure of such proximity.

It was mostly as a way to excuse your bashfulness, in partial hopes that he didn't take your hesitation as a sign of rejection.

You loved the attention. It was difficult to keep up with, but it didn't mean that you didn't want it.

His knuckles were white against the counter behind your back. His breath shallowed out. He had a hard time catching it, left recovering from the carnal reaction to such a perfect opportunity sitting before him.

All he heard was the chance to be unrivaled- a white knight of the bedroom, in a sense. To drag out that cute, adoring look on your face for as long as it took to break you in. His jaw tensed, his friendly smile faltering at the thought of what he could show you, teach you, be the very first to do to you.

He grinned, "No wonder he wants to keep you locked up, then."

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

reply to be added for future parts!

[obliquecompendium]

off topic, apologies to OP, but I needed to pull this out as it's relevant to another ongoing discussion:

I know next to nothing about game system emulator software, but after many years of working in or adjacent to instructional design and education:

"But we don't get to decide that" is a very powerful and important phrase that we should be hearing more in all design communities.

Write for the users who exist, not for the users in our heads whom we think should exist!

I've bumped into some weird Windows registry issues in my day, but "deciding that snes9x – as in the Super Nintendo emulator – should be the default 'Open with...' option for every file type" is a new one.

[bisuhq]

you have something on your lips— mine!

includes : (mouthwashing) anya, curly, daisuke, swansea.

summary : the tulpar crew & kisses.

warnings : gn! reader.

ANYA

Kisses so softly, as if she's scared to hurt you

Her kisses are pretty chaste, especially in public (she gets flustered very easily with pda)

Her lips are usually chapped because of how often she bites/licks them. On the bright side, she loves wearing flavored chapstick.

"Hmm, is it sundae?" Anya's eyes widen in surprise at your answer, which is astonishingly correct. She touches her lips, before eyeing you suspiciously.

"Did you see me apply it?" She asks, wondering if you've begun to cheat in your little game of 'guess-that-chapstick!' but you just puff out your chest in pride, chuckling to yourself as if the answer was obvious.

"My dear, dear Anya, are you that surprised? I just know you that well, I've memorized all your chapstick flavors by now~"

She buys a new chapstick flavor to mess with you next time you kiss her.

Anya is a total sucker for forehead kisses, if you kiss her forehead she'll melt instantly!

It's also a quick way to calm her worried thoughts or to lure her away from the stress of her work. Just one peck on the forehead and she's better!

Of course one of her favorite way to kiss you is by kissing your boo-boos better.

Perhaps you even get (minorly) injured on purpose, just so she'll have an excuse to kiss you.

"It's just a papercut." Anya says as she inspects the thin slice on the tip of your pointer finger. You huff, shaking your head.

"But it huuurts!" You complain, amping up the dramatics to see her roll her eyes at you. She sighs, turning to fetch her first aid kit. She comes back with a bandage.

"I guess I'll have to patch it up then." She says, wrapping the band-aid around your finger. You wiggle your finger, impatiently waiting for the final part of her treatment. She bites back a giggle as she presses a kiss to the band-aid. "How's it feel now?"

"Much better~"

CURLY (pre-crash)

Kisses you like it's the first time and last time every. single. time. he's so passionate about his kisses with you- it's all or nothing!

Cups your face with both hands, kissing your nearly breathless, and when you pull away he always chases after your lips.

That being said, he's also painfully shy about pda, and get's a little flustered if you ask for one in public- but he definitely won't say no! He'll just plan a little revenge ("revenge" being an attack of kisses when you both get home).

"Honey," You coo, the sickeningly sweet pet name catching his attention like a dog being told it's time for a walk. You two were out walking around, shopping, when you decided to tease him a little bit. "Can I have a kiss?" He blinks a few times, before swallowing thickly.

"Right now?" There was already a flush on his ears, slowly creeping down to his cheeks. When you nod in confirmation, he'll take a step towards you, gently cup your face and press a kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, the blush has reached down to his chest. "Was that okay?"

Curly was answered by your giggles, and that's when he realized you did it just to tease him. He groans, "Laugh now, 'cause I'll be getting my revenge later." A lighthearted threat that you're sure will end just as sweetly as his kiss earlier.

Curly is a big fan of a good ol' back of the hand kiss too, especially when you two are out on a date or he's feeling particularly sappy.

One of his favorite things is when he's let his scruff grow out nicely, and you get tickled by it.

He's literally a menace, the second a giggle escapes you and he's reminded that it tickles you it's game over, good luck~

"P- Please!" You wheeze, begging, for a chance to breath, but Curly is having the time of his life hearing your laughter. Nuzzling his scruff against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

"'m just kissing you," He murmurs against your skin, "I don't understand why you're laughin'?" However when you threaten to take away kissing privileges he quickly pulls away, although a small pout on his face.

You'll have to push his face away, or else those baby blues will definitely make your defenses falter. "I... I'm serious, don't try anything else, 'kay?"

DAISUKE

One word: Addicted. Daisuke is addicted to your lips and he'd gladly let your lips suffocate him!

Will literally whine if you pull away, please just a few more- what? you two have work to do? just... just one more? He'll use his ultimate weapon: His big brown puppy-dog eyes!

Has a bad habit of murmuring praise about your lips when you two kiss.

"Your lips are so soft," Daisuke mumbles against your lips, lost in pure bliss at the feeling of your lips against his own, "how are they always so soft," he shudders when you let out a annoyed sigh.

"Daisuke," You try to interrupt, but he just keeps on murmuring your praises, doesn't even notice that you've pulled away and are now watching him babble on about how sweet you taste and how soft your lips are and how he loves how you let him kiss you and ho-

"Huh? wait-" He finally blinks his eyes open only for you to bite back a laugh at his confused expression. Composing yourself, you give him a pointed look.

"Daisuke, stop talking."

"O-Oh, yeah, okay," he nods, breathless, before gladly continuing the little makeout session.

He tastes like mango, perhaps it's his chapstick or perhaps he just eats a lot of mango but he 100% taste like mango!

Here is a little warning: Daisuke is weak to your kisses, and if you ever offer a kiss as a reward for him doing a task or something...

Well let's just say you'll have one eager man running around completing tasks and doing errands and showing up in between each one for a sweet kiss as a reward~

"Daisuke, this is getting out of hand," You say more to yourself than to him, looking at the monster you've created. He is currently trying to fix a pipe (much to the dismay of Swansea) in hopes of getting a kiss.

"Hm? What'd you say?" You wave your hand dismissively, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," You might have to slowly ween him off your kisses.

SWANSEA

Claims he "doesn't need" such affections, but whenever you forget to give him a 'good morning' kiss he is 10x more grouchy throughout the day.

Won't accept any form of PDA, but in private he is actually such a sweetie, and loves giving and receiving affection.

Especially in the early mornings or right before bed, he'll gently kiss the palm of your hand, then your wrist, before capturing your lips. This is an essential part of your routine.

Swansea is relaxed on the bed, grumbling about what a hard day he had, when you enter the room. The stressors of the day slowly melt away from his mind as you approach the bed. "'m sorry you had such a bad day," You cup his cheek, but he shakes his head, leaning into your warmth.

"'s fine, with you now," he mutters, turning to press a kiss to your palm, before moving his lips to your wrist. His eyes flutter open, and it's clear he's hungry for more- he wants your lips. His hands find your body, gently pulling you closer to him.

No words are said as your lips meet, no words are really needed for the rest of the night.

(On the Tulpar) If he's being grumpier than usual, any of the crew (but particularly Daisuke) will find you and beg you to "talk" to him. You'll go into the room, and come out a few seconds later, and it's like Swansea is a different person. (Literally one kiss smh)

Likes when you kiss his cheek, secretly makes his heart beat a little faster. He'll grumble you're not good for his heart when you sneak up and kiss his cheek.

Actually he does get nervous sometimes because it can't be normal to still get heart palpitations from little kisses like that.

It was a simple kiss in passing, on your way towards the kitchen to prep for dinner, a quick peck to the corner of his lips, but it was enough to make him freeze at first. It takes him a second to recover, before he's clutching at his chest.

"The hell..." He grumbles, before looking up, his eyes following your figure. "Ya gotta warn a guy before you do somethin' like that!" He hollers, but you just wave your hand dismissively, a smirk on your features.

"Yeah, yeah, old man- when'll you get used to it, hmm?" Probably never, but he hopes that doesn't deter your future attempts.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

[jamesmcalover]

entangled - pt 1

Dimitri Kravinoff x Reader

Warnings: slight angst maybe?? vulnerability, Dimitri is inecure & has daddy issues :(

Summary: Reader was hired to steal something from Dimitri Kravinoff

5.2k words

Breaking into a place like this wasn't supposed to be hard.

Y/N crouched by the door of Dmitri Kravinoff's apartment, her lockpicks glinting faintly in the dim hallway light. The silence of the building was oppressive, almost too quiet, but that was exactly how she liked it. The faint smell of expensive leather and something else – something musky, like cigar smoke – hung in the air.

The information her boss had given her was frustratingly vague, just that Dmitri, the youngest Kravinoff, was in possession of an artifact that could 'change the game.' All she'd been told was that it was a 'special knife.' Why it mattered wasn't her concern.

Her job was simple: get in, grab it, and get out. Something she'd done countless times before, slipping into the shadows, taking what wasn't hers, and slipping out without leaving a trace. She'd never failed.

The lock clicked open, and Y/N slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. The place was dark but far from empty. Moonlight spilled through half-drawn curtains, casting shadows on bookshelves, a cluttered desk, and a mounted map on the wall. It was nicer than she'd expected, but it didn't feel like a home.

She found the knife easily enough, displayed in a glass case above the fireplace. There, resting on a velvet cushion, was the knife. It shined in the dim light. The Kravinoff crest engraved on the handle caught her eye, and she frowned. She'd expected something a little less… personal.

Doesn't matter, she reminded herself. Her fingers were already outstretched, reaching for the display case. Just another job. Nothing more.

The lights flicked on.

Y/N spun, her hand instinctively moving toward the small blade strapped to her thigh. But Dmitri, so she thought, was already there, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a faint smirk on his face, but the way his hands trembled slightly gave him away.

"You know," he said, his voice low and even, "I'd ask how you got in, but I’m more curious about why you thought you'd get out."

Y/N took a step back, already calculating her next move. "I don't want any trouble, Dimitri," she said, trying to keep her tone even. She wasn't sure why, but there was something unsettling about him. His hands were clenched tight, and there was an edge of desperation in his eyes.

His smirk faltered, and for a moment, his guard dropped. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he stepped forward with jerky movements, as if trying to command some authority that wasn’t there. "Who are you?" His voice cracked, and his jaw tightened. He clearly wasn't used to this.

Y/N took a step to the side, ready to dodge around him. Dimitri flinched, but before she could move, he grabbed for her arm, not with the strength of someone who had planned this out, but with the panic of someone desperate to stop her. She easily twisted out of his grip.

"I can't let you leave. Not with-," he said, voice tight. He wasn't fighting with confidence, but with an almost erratic energy, like he was terrified of what might happen if she escaped. His fear wasn’t just physical, it was as if he was holding on to this moment for some other reason.

Y/N hesitated. This wasn't the Dimitri she had expected. She had assumed he would be like the rest of his family. Cold, calculated, a master of control. But here he was, vulnerable and unsteady.

With a sudden, desperate lunge, he reached for her. His movements were jagged and uncoordinated, more out of panic than control. She instinctively stepped back to dodge, but he caught her arm, pulling her toward him with an almost frantic energy.

She tried to twist away, but Dimitri's grip was tighter now, and in a blur of motion, they both went tumbling to the ground. The air was knocked from her lungs as they crashed, and for a split second, everything seemed to slow. But then the edge of a table slammed against the side of her head.

A sharp pain exploded in her skull, and everything went black.

When Y/N's eyes fluttered open again, she was groggy, disoriented. Her head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing with each heartbeat. The world around her was a blur, but she could just make out the dim light of the apartment, the faint scent of leather and smoke still lingering.

It took a moment to register the feeling of rough rope cutting into her wrists.

Dimitri was sitting across the room, picking at the skin on his fingers nervously. He seemed less the confident figure from before, more like someone desperately trying to keep it together.

Y/N tested the ropes around her wrists, her mind clearing faster now. She was in a tight spot, but this wasn't a total loss yet.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N" Dimitri said without turning his head to face her, his voice firm but not unkind. Y/N frowned slightly, almost unnoticeable, when he mentioned her name. He found out who you were. "But you shouldn't be here."

Y/N smirked, even as she flexed her wrists against the ropes. "Did you really think tying me up would stop me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not exactly in control here, Dimitri."

He stopped at that, his shoulders stiffening, but he didn't respond right away. When he finally turned, his eyes met hers with a cold resolve. "I'm not trying to stop you from leaving. I'm trying to stop you from taking what's mine."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "The knife? You really think your father's going to notice you for this?" Her voice was softer now, probing.

Dimitri's expression faltered for a brief moment. Just a flicker, but it was there. Why did this woman know so much about his family? "I don't need his approval," he said, though his voice lacked the conviction it had earlier. "Who the fuck sent you?"

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, a silent standoff. Y/N's mind was racing, considering her options. She wasn't going to escape from the ropes without help, and she wouldn't give out information about the people who hired her so easily. She still needed that money she'd been promised.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with renewed interest. "You're not really going to keep me here forever, are you? I mean, we both know you don't want that. You don't want me tied up in your apartment," she said, ignoring his question.

His gaze flicked to the ropes around her wrists, and his jaw clenched. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, the internal battle playing out across his face.

He didn't answer right away, instead taking a step closer to her. The distance between them was still significant, but she could feel the weight of his attention, the way he studied her, as if trying to decide if he could trust her.

"I don't know," he admitted after a long pause. "I don't know what's worse. Letting you go or… keeping you here. But either way, I won't just give up the knife. It’s mine."

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock echoed from the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps. Dimitri's body stiffened, his eyes wide. He turned abruptly, his gaze locking on the door, panic flashing across his face.

Y/N's pulse quickened. Dimitri wasn't exactly subtle in his reaction, and she could tell that whoever was coming wasn't someone he wanted to see.

Dimitri quickly moved across the room, a frantic urgency in his steps. "You need to hide," he hissed under his breath, rushing toward her. "Now."

Before Y/N could even ask what was going on, Dimitri was untangling the ropes around her wrists, his hands quick but rough. "Move," he urged, not meeting her eyes. "I'll deal with this. You just- stay quiet."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. She could've run. He wasn't just afraid, he was terrified. But before she could say anything, he half-guided, half-shoved her toward another room. She didn't run.

"Stay in here. Don't make a sound," he whispered, practically shoving her into the room before quickly closing the door behind her.

Y/N stood still in the dark, her heart racing. She could hear Dimitri's footsteps retreating to the living room, just as the front door creaked open. She quickly glanced around the room. It was his bedroom. The big king-sized bed took in most of the space, the faint smell of expensive cologne and cigars lingered in the air, the same as it had in the living room. The windows were big with a great view over London, but the they were no escape; way too high and there was nothing to climb on outside.

There was no way out.

Y/N huffed, turning toward the door. She pressed herself against the wall, barely breathing.

"Dimitri," a voice drawled, deep, and unmistakable. Sergei. Dimitri's older brother.

Y/N could hear the clinking of metal, the sound of someone stepping into the living room she'd been tied up in a minute ago. Dimitri was standing nervously by the big marble table, trying to look casual, but his body language was stiff with tension.

"Sergei," Dimitri greeted, his voice too high-pitched. "What's up?"

There was an amused chuckle from the doorway as Sergei saw the ropes laying on the floor, clearly used. He sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing, his nose twitching. "I smell perfume."

Y/N held her breath now, too scared of giving herself away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," his younger brother said, and Sergei wasn't convinced, but he didn't seem to want to press. Instead, he gave Dimitri a long, sidelong glance and a toothy grin. "You know, I just wanted to check on you on your birthday but you seem like you're having fun. Just make sure it's all consensual."

Dimitri's face went bright red, his eyes darting to the ropes on the floor and then back to Sergei. "It's not-" he started, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. "I mean, it's not what you think."

Sergei's grin widened, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. He leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "No need to explain, little brother. You're a grown man now. Who you bring into your home is none of my business."

Dimitri shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. Y/N, still pressed against the wall in the bedroom, bit back a smirk. She could practically hear the nervous energy radiating off Dimitri, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat. If this was how he usually handled himself, she could see why he was desperate to impress someone or anyone to be honest.

Sergei sniffed the air again, his brow furrowing slightly. He glanced around the apartment one last time, his gaze lingering on the ropes for just a beat longer than comfortable. "Well, happy birthday, Dima. Enjoy your… evening."

With that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The moment Sergei was gone, Dimitri let out a long, shaky breath, leaning heavily against the table. He stayed like that for a moment, his head bowed, before he finally pushed himself upright and made his way back to the bedroom.

Y/N, now sitting on the side of her opponents bed, raised an eyebrow as he opened the door, his face still flushed. "So," she said, her voice dripping with amusement, "happy birthday."

Dimitri groaned, running a hand down his face. "Don't."

"Oh, come on," she teased, crossing her arms. "That was adorable. 'Just make sure it's all consensual.' Your brother thinks you're tying up your dates for fun."

"I said don't," Dimitri snapped, though the crack in his voice and the flush in his cheeks betrayed any attempt at authority. He turned his back to her, pacing a few steps into the room like he didn't know what to do with himself.

He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his head bowed, the flush of embarrassment still painting his cheeks. The air between them was thick with tension, and Y/N could see the cracks in his composure. This was a man teetering on the edge, caught between his desperation to prove himself and the weight of his insecurities.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him carefully. "You're really desperate to make daddy proud, are you?" She teased.

The words hit like a whip. His head turned slightly, just enough for her to see the muscle in his jaw tighten. When he faced her fully, his expression was caught somewhere between fury and humiliation. "Shut up. You don't know anything about me."

"Did I strike a nerve?" she asked, feigning innocence. She didn't back down, even when he took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "I know more about you and your little family than you think."

For a moment, Dimitri said nothing, just stared at her with a mixture of frustration and something else. Something more vulnerable. He stepped back suddenly, scrubbing his hands over his face as if trying to compose himself. "I didn't ask for this," he muttered. "Any of it."

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. "Then why are you doing it?" she asked, softer now.

"Because I have to," Dimitri said quietly, as if the words cost him something. "You wouldn't understand."

Y/N let out a low laugh, shaking her head. "Try me."

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned sharply and left the room, leaving her alone. She considered making a break for it but dismissed the thought just as quickly. She heard Dimitri rummaging around in the other room, muttering under his breath. When he returned, he carried a glass of water and a small first-aid kit. He placed them both on the nightstand and glanced at her, still visibly conflicted.

"You hit your head. I don't need you bleeding all over my carpet," he said gesturing to the expensive looking white rug beneath his bed.

"Aw, you're so caring," she teased. "You're just full of surprises."

He rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he opened the kit and pulled out some antiseptic. She couldn't help but notice how his fingers trembled, though whether it was from nerves or something else, she couldn't tell.

"Why didn't you give me up to Sergei?" she asked suddenly, watching his face closely.

He froze, his hand hovering over the cotton swab. "What?"

"You could've sold me out. Told him I was here to steal your precious knife. Hell, you could've made me out to be some assassin sent to take you out, and I bet he would've believed you. But you didn't." She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing. "Why?"

Dimitri avoided her eyes, his jaw tightening as he busied himself with the cotton swab. He dabbed at it with antiseptic, the sharp scent filling the air.

"I didn't do it for you," he muttered, finally meeting her gaze, though his expression was guarded. "If Sergei knew why you were here, it'd be more than just my problem. He'd take over, and then my father would find out. And I…" He hesitated, the words seeming to catch in his throat. "…I can't let that happen."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So this is about you, then? Self-preservation?"

He flinched at her tone, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "You don't understand," he snapped, but there was no anger in his voice. Just frustration, layered over something deeper. "If my father finds out I let someone break in here, I'm done. This is my one chance to prove I'm not… worthless."

His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, Y/N saw past the posturing and panic to the insecurity he tried so hard to hide.

"Prove you're not worthless by what? Guarding a knife?" she asked, her tone softer now. "Seems like a pretty low bar."

Dimitri scoffed, shaking his head. "You wouldn't get it. My father doesn't care about anything but power, control, appearances. If I can't do this one thing right…" He trailed off, his hands gripping the first-aid kit as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Y/N watched him in silence, piecing together the picture of a man who was just as trapped as she was. Though by very different circumstances.

"Well," she said finally, her voice light but not unkind, "if it makes you feel any better, you did technically stop me." She smirked, gesturing to her still-sore head.

Dimitri's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly smothered it. "You don't know when to shut up, do you?" He had almost forgotten to patch up her wound. The blood was slowly drying up, as he slowly dabbed the cotton pad around her temple to clean it up. Y/N scrunched her face up in pain when he alcohol seeped into the small cut. She could've easily fought him now. But she didn't, and Dimitri asked himself why. For a moment, he focused on her wound, dabbing carefully despite the slight tremor in his hands. The silence between them felt heavy, filled with unspoken questions and tension neither of them seemed ready to address. He avoided her gaze, keeping his attention on the task as if it were the most important thing in the world.

She smirked, but there was something softer in her expression now. Something almost curious. She could feel his hands trembling, could see the way his eyes darted to her face when he thought she wasn't looking. He was scared. Of her, maybe, but also of whatever was going on in his own head.

Y/N took a deep breath, the words forming carefully in her mind. "Take me to him."

Dimitri froze, his expression a mix of shock and suspicion. "What?"

"You need proof, right?" she continued, keeping her tone even. "Proof that you can protect what's yours. That you're not just some screw-up who let a thief waltz in and take it. If you bring me to him – alive, empty-handed – you'll have a trophy. Evidence that you stopped me."

Dimitri stared at her, his brows furrowing as he processed her words. "Why would you do that?" he asked, his voice low and cautious. "Why would you help me?"

"I'm not helping you," she said quickly. "I'm helping myself. We make a deal."

"A deal?" He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I need money," she said bluntly. "Since I'm not getting it for a failed mission, here's a pitch: you tell your father I broke in, but I didn't find anything because you stopped me before I could take the knife. You get your moment of spotlight and I walk away with cash. From you."

Dimitri's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he stared at her like she'd just offered him a poisoned chalice. "You think my father's going to be proud of me me for letting a thief break into my apartment? For showing up with you instead of throwing you in some ditch?"

Y/N smirked, tilting her head. "He might. If you frame it right. I didn't let her break in; I stopped her. She didn't get the knife. I captured her, proved I'm not useless." Her voice dropped an octave, mimicking a deep, commanding tone. "You'd look like a hero, wouldn't you?"

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting at the hem of his sleeve. She could see the flicker of doubt, the hesitation, and maybe, just maybe, a hint of hope behind his eyes.

"I don't need your help to prove myself," he muttered, his voice lacking conviction.

Y/N leaned forward, her voice low and confident. "Oh, but you do. Because I know you, Dimitri. You're not like him. You don't have his power or Sergei's ruthlessness. But you have this-" she gestured toward herself, "and if you play it smart, you might finally get his attention."

His lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, he looked away, jaw clenched, the internal battle playing out across his face.

"And what if he doesn't care?" Dimitri finally asked, his tone sharp but brittle. "What if he laughs in my face and says I'm still a screw-up? What happens then?"

Y/N shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. "That's not my problem. You get me the money we agree on, and I disappear. Whatever happens between you and Daddy Dearest after that? That's on you."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms defensively. "How much?"

"Sixty thousand."

His eyes widened. "Sixty- are you insane?"

"Twice as much as I was offered," she said with a shrug, unfazed. "I figure someone like you can afford it. Or are you telling me the youngest Kravinoff is broke?"

His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, tilting her head mockingly, her tone laced with amusement.

"I said fine!" he snapped, spinning to face her. His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly regained composure. "You'll get your money. Just- just don't screw this up."

Y/N smiled, satisfied. "Now we're talking."

Dimitri let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if the weight of their deal was already pressing down on him. He turned away, pacing the room as he muttered something under his breath.

"So," she said, breaking the silence. "What's the plan? Are we just going to march into your father's estate like it's show-and-tell?"

Dimitri stopped pacing, his jaw tightening. "It's not that simple," he said sharply. "If I'm going to bring you to him, I need to make it look… convincing."

"Convincing, huh?" Y/N crossed her arms casually. "What's that supposed to mean? You're not planning on tying me up again, are you?"

His face flushed. "No," he snapped, too quickly. "I mean- I can't just walk in with you looking like this." He gestured vaguely at her, his frustration bubbling over. "You don't exactly scream 'dangerous thief.' You look-"

"Careful, Kravinoff," Y/N cut in, her tone sharp. "Finish that sentence, and I might reconsider our little deal."

"I won't take you to him," he started and Y/N almost interrupted him with protests but he continued before she could say anything. "I'll bring him here. He'll see you, tied up on that chair."

Y/N raised an eyebrow as he paced up an down in his bedroom, puzzling together a plan. "So I'll be tied up again? Great," she said, leaning back on her arms. She was starting to get tired and the bedding felt pretty comfortable under her hands.

"Yeah. You- You'll be unconscious! Or at least play unconscious.

Y/N blinked, barely suppressing a laugh. "Unconscious? That's your master plan?"

Dimitri stopped pacing to glare at her, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. "Do you have a better idea?" he snapped. "Because if we don't make this convincing, my father will see through it in an instant. He'll know it's a setup, and trust me, neither of us walks away from that."

She tilted her head, studying him. The nervous energy radiating off him, the way he avoided her eyes when he mentioned Nikolai. It wasn't just fear of failure driving him. It was something deeper. Something personal. "Alright," she said after a moment, her tone softening. "Unconscious it is. But if you tie me up too tight this time, we're gonna have problems."

Dimitri let out a breath he didn't seem to realize he was holding, nodding sharply. "Fine. I'll make it believable without… overdoing it."

"Good boy," she said with a smirk, watching as his ears reddened. "Now, what's your big plan for when he actually gets here? You think Nikolai's just going to pat you on the back and call it a day?"

His jaw tightened, his eyes darting away from her. "I'll handle him," he said, though there was no confidence in his voice. "That's not your concern. You just play your part."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Bold of you to assume I'll just sit quietly and let you sell this performance without input."

"You'll have no choice," he shot back, his voice firmer this time. "If this goes wrong, you won't get your money. So do us both a favor and keep your theatrics to a minimum."

"Sure thing, partner," she drawled, leaning back on her elbows with an amused glint in her eye.

Dimitri glared at her, but she caught the flicker of amusement behind his eyes.

"Alright," he said after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "Let's get this over with."

Y/N grinned, flexing her wrists. "By all means, Kravinoff. Tie me up. Again."

-

The sharp click of approaching footsteps echoed through the apartment. Y/N, bound and pretending to be unconscious, kept her breathing slow and even, her head hanging low, hair in her face as if she'd passed out. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to spring into action if needed.

The air shifted, colder somehow, as Nikolai Kravinoff stepped into the room. His presence was imposing, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the dimly lit apartment. Dimitri stood stiffly by the door, his shoulders square but his hands fidgeting at his sides. A nervous habit he couldn't quite suppress.

Nikolai's gaze swept across the room, landing immediately on Y/N. His sharp features twisted into something between approval and disdain. "So," he began, his voice low and gravelly, "this is the thief who dared to challenge our family?" He approached her, his boots barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. "She doesn't look like much."

Dimitri swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. "She got in," he said, trying to keep his tone steady. "But she didn't get out. I stopped her before she could take the knife."

Nikolai turned his head slightly, giving his youngest son a scrutinizing look. "Did you, now?"

"Yes," Dimitri said quickly. "She was fast, but I was faster. I managed to subdue her before she could escape." He gestured to the knife, now prominently displayed on the table beside them. "The knife is still here, untouched."

Nikolai stepped closer to Y/N, his sharp eyes studying her as though she were an insect pinned under glass. He reached out, almost absently, and grasped her chin, tilting her face toward him. Y/N fought the urge to flinch, keeping her body limp and her breathing shallow.

"You tied her up and left her alive," Nikolai observed, his tone unreadable. "Interesting choice. Most would've ended the threat."

Dimitri's throat worked as he struggled to find an answer. "I thought you'd want to see her," he said finally. "To question her. She might have information about who sent her."

His father let the silence hang for a beat, then let out a quiet sigh. "You finally achieved something. I'll give you that." There was no pride in his voice, only the acknowledgment of the bare minimum. "But don't get comfortable. This doesn't change anything."

Dimitri didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure under his father's sharp gaze.

"I don't care for information from a little girl." There was an almost unnoticeable pause before he added, "She's your responsibility. If she becomes a problem, it's your head. Do with her what you will, but if she proves to be more trouble than she's worth…"

He didn't finish the thought, but the implication was clear. He turned toward the door, his footsteps heavy and purposeful as he walked away. As the door clicked shut behind him, the room seemed to breathe again, though the atmosphere remained thick with unspoken words. Dimitri stood frozen for a moment, his eyes still on Y/N. He wasn't sure what to feel. His father's words echoed in his mind: You finally achieved something. But it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like he had done the bare minimum, like a child who had only met the lowest expectation.

Dimitri exhaled sharply, his breath shaky as he looked to Y/N. She was still tied to the chair, her eyey fixated on him as if she was trying to read him, but she didn't dare to say anything. The silence between them stretched long.

He should feel proud, right? But all he felt was a gnawing emptiness in his chest, the way he always did when his father's praise was nowhere to be found. No approval. No pride.

Finally, he took a hesitant step toward her, kneeling down in front of the chair. His hands trembled as he began untying the thick ropes. He could feel the tightness in his chest, the heat of unshed tears threatening to spill, and he hoped Y/N wouldn't notice. But of course, she did.

Once her hands were free, she reached up, her fingers gentle as she brushed away a blonde lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. Her touch was soft, almost soothing, and it made the weight of his emotions feel even more suffocating.

"You're not so tough, are you?" Y/N said quietly, her voice low but not unkind. "Not as much as you like to pretend."

Dimitri's gaze dropped, and he clenched his jaw. He didn't want to show it. He didn't want to give her any more reason to see him as weak. But the truth was, he'd been feeling that way for far longer than he wanted to admit.

His throat tightened as he finally looked back at her. "I didn't want this," he said, the words escaping before he could stop them. "But it's like… it's like I'm stuck, Y/N. I can't win, no matter what I do."

Y/N's fingers paused on his face, and she studied him for a long moment. The way he was kneeling in front of her, sad and vulnerable, did something to her. There was something in her eyes, something like understanding, but she didn't speak right away. Instead, she just let her hand linger there, her thumb brushing against his skin in a way that made him feel exposed.

"You're not stuck, Dimitri," she said softly. "You just haven't figured out how to break free yet."

He sniffed, wiping a small tear with the back of his hand without looking at her. Then, without another word, he stood up and left the room for a moment. When he returned, he was holding a stack of cash.

"Forty." he said, his voice almost sheepish. "This is all I've got lying around right now. You can come back for the rest later." He walked over to her, his eyes briefly flicking toward her before he handed her the money, his fingers brushing hers just slightly. She took it, her gaze flickering up to meet his.

She didn't say anything, just glanced at the cash in her hands. The silence lingered, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more contemplative.

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably, looking away. "Just get out, alright?"

Y/N smiled faintly but didn't argue. She could feel his tension, the quiet storm brewing beneath his guarded exterior. There was something else there, something more than just their deal. But she wasn't going to press him for answers Not yet

"Fine," she said simply, slipping the money into her pocket. "But I'll be back for the rest. Don't think you're getting off that easy."

Dimitri didn't reply, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something almost like relief, or maybe resignation. He nodded, his expression hardening once more as he turned away, but for the briefest moment, the distance between them felt just a little smaller.

[ryebread0605]

please please I beg you Jamil with a fetish for corruption please

Damn yall really got me exposing my kinks publicly lmao

I will warn, this could be read as dubcon so be aware! Continuing to read means you acknowledge this (as, in this, the reader is innocent towards sexual matters)

with that out of the way, enjoy!

You were a breath of fresh air in Night Raven College. Soft spoken, kind to everyone, and as sweet as honey. Your smile could make even Sebek smile back, even with his hatred of humans. But the one person who had his eyes on you the most was Jamil Viper.

To him, you were everything he wished he could have. Someone who had spent countless nights fixing up dishes for Kalim, someone who came to every one of his games and cheered him on (sure, you were cheering on the whole team, but you cheered for him the loudest in his mind). You represented a light in his life that he wanted. 

So why then did he sit here thinking of you in such crude ways? Why did he think of the sight of you beneath him, eyes blurred with tears of pleasure causing makeup to run down your perfect skin? Thoughts of you shaking and begging for more, not understanding fully what he’s doing but knowing you want more of it. He had to have you. He had to be the one to teach you. 

When an opportunity presented itself one night as the two of you were cooking for tomorrow’s party, he couldn’t let the chance go to waste. He started small, his hand lingering a bit too long over yours, soft brushes against your backside, pressing himself a bit closer than normal to you. You noticed but thought nothing of it as his movements had changed drastically since the day you met him.

But he couldn’t let you think it was a simple coincidence. He needed to let you know it was all intentional. He needed to give you a chance to reject him. To think long and hard about what you wanted to do about this. So he moved his hand to your knee, his fingertips sliding over your stockings, the lightest caresses. Your skin was soft and warm, and he just wanted to touch more of you. He needed to touch more of you.

“(Name),” he began softly, whispering into your ear, “aren’t you warm with all those layers on?” 

The question barely seemed out of place to you, it was quite warm in the kitchen afterall. So, with a bit of a nod, you slipped the cardigan you had on off of your arms and placed it neatly over the chair nearby. Jamil smirked at this, the look of pure innocence in your eyes only made the fire in his stomach grow more. 

He had to see more.

And so, a few minutes later as you turned towards him with the spatula he asked for, he ‘accidentally tripped’ and spilt vanilla extract down the front of your white button up school uniform top.

“Oh Sevens (name), I’m so sorry I’ll try to get it out” he knew full well what he was doing as he rubbed the stain further into the shirt, using the opportunity as a chance to feel your chest a bit. As the stain spread, he continued to fake being apologetic of the ‘accident’. 

“I’m so sorry (name), I’ll grab you one of my shirts and clean that one right away” he hated having to pretend and lie to you in the same way he had to lie and pretend to Kalim but in this case, he was actually gaining something from it. 

A soft laugh came from you as you simply smiled and unbuttoned your shirt, “it’s alright Jamil! Accidents happen, I’ll just be more careful next time!” He couldn’t believe his eyes as you innocently lay the shirt on top of your cardigan, now left in just a bra. He thought the most he would see was you in one of his shirts, and now he couldn’t ignore the tight feeling of his pants.

Sensing his discomfort, you turned to him and tilted your head, “is everything alright Jamil?” A thought, one so perverted and wrong, formed in his mind as a smile made its way to his lips, “actually my dear, I have a bit of a problem. And since you caused it, would you be the one to help me solve it?”

And that’s how you found yourself here, kneeling in front of him as he guided your head gently to take his cock in your mouth. It was a foreign feeling to you, but the praises he gave you made something inside you want more. And the way you looked up at him with those big, adorable eyes made him struggle to hold back. He knew he had to take it slow, and right now this was more than enough. 

He talked you through how to suck him off right, telling you which parts made him feel best and where to put your hands. The feeling of your warm mouth around his cock was heavenly, his head thrown back in pleasure and low groans of pleasure coming from his lips. 

“Just like that, you’re so good for me (name), just a little more~” he ran his fingers through your hair gently before suddenly pushing your head all the way down, a muffled gasp coming from your lips as hot ropes of cum poured down your throat before he pulled your head off his now not as hard cock. The way your tongue lolled out of your mouth when you softly panted, his cum dribbling down your chin, your eyes staring right at him, Sevens it was addicting to see. 

“Now my dear, it’s my turn to show you how good things can feel~”

[sflow-er]

Henry and Simon’s dynamic over the three seasons

For YR Faves Fest 2024 organised by @youngroyals-events Prompts: 2. Favourite teen side character (+ 7. Favourite not-quite friendship)

In one of my replies to the recent side character ask game, I briefly mentioned being partial to the dynamic between these two. So for this Faves Fest, I decided to elaborate with an analysis post (featuring screenshots of variable quality)!

I want to preface this with a brief acknowledgment of Henry’s privilege and classism. It is not my intention to diminish them. I do, however, feel that it’s a bit apples-to-oranges to compare them to Simon’s views (citrus pun intended). 🍊 is politically active and has put in the effort to form his own beliefs, while 🍏 shows us time and again that he is ignorant of the world outside the elite bubble and not inclined towards deep reflection. He is largely a product of his upbringing and the (liberal conservative) values imparted by his parents.

While Henry doesn’t grow enough to change his core views and values in the canon timeline, he does change his views on Simon. This isn’t enough progress for them to become actual friends before we leave off (I doubt Simon could be friends with someone who only exempts him), but I would still argue that they end the show on amicable terms.

And yes, I mean that in a mutual sense, even if Simon doesn’t soften towards Henry quite as much as Henry softens towards him!

So, let’s dive in!

Dialogue taken from the English CC and [abbreviated or corrected].

1.01: the tax debate

Henry: “Take my dad’s estate, for example. They’re struggling to make ends meet because of the high taxes.” [Simon chuckles and explains his views] Simon: “Like your dad. [Do you know how much he gets in EU subsidies every year]”? Henry: “And what the fuck does your dad do?”

Like most viewers, I find it a lot easier to relate to Simon’s views than Henry’s here – but I do think Henry often gets judged quite harshly for insulting Simon at the end. His comment does not come out of nowhere (cf. Stella’s unprompted dirty look at Simon and Sara when she talks about welfare scamming).

Henry only knows that his father has said their estate is struggling, so of course he won’t take kindly to Simon suggesting that they are actually getting undeserved subsidies instead. It’s also important to note that this estate isn’t just any old farm. It was granted to one of his ancestors as a reward for their services to the Crown, which makes it a core part of his family history. As we learn in 1.04, Henry is a Society boy and very proud of his noble ancestry, and Simon’s comment likely feels like an insult to his entire family. So although his retort is unquestionably rude, it is understandable that he lashes out.

Also, Henry has no way of knowing that Micke is a deadbeat. He is just applying a common stereotype (and potentially making assumptions based on the views Simon just expressed on welfare).

1.02: parallel but separate experiences

Early in this episode, we see Simon side-eye Henry and Walter for the paid tutoring. He decides to follow their example, but as we know he can’t actually afford it, we can already guess it won’t go as well for him as it did for them.

Next, we see Henry in the group as the rowing team ignores Simon at morning training. The camera also pans to him and Walter when August gives that bizarre speech about Simon’s class journey.

These moments highlight how different life at Hillerska (and beyond) looks for Henry and Simon. They are technically coexisting and even doing the same things, but their experiences are nothing alike.

However, there is also some potential for development here. August’s words about rowing bringing people together (and also about the class journey) should absolutely be taken with a heap of salt, but as we no longer see any open animosity between Henry and Simon, we can still wonder if rowing played a part.

Being on the same sports team is an entirely new frame of reference for these guys. They are no longer just the sosse and aristocrat who have been going to school together since pre-canon and clashing over their views; they are crewmates. They may be able to ignore each other for most of the time, but they may also have to do some team activities or even cooperate on occasion. At the very least, they will be around each other several extra times a week from late September/early October to Christmas break. This could definitely help to put them on more neutral ground.

1.05: Henry pays attention to Wilmon

In this episode, Henry learns more about Wilmon than the average Hillerska student. He is present when August tells the Society that Wille and Simon “hang out”, and also when Wille changes the plan from Simon to Alexander.

What’s more, he actually looks fairly thoughtful leaving that last meeting. We don’t know if it’s just shock over Wille’s ruthlessness, if he’s thinking about the plan to set up Alexander, or if there’s something else on his mind.

Now, this may veer into overinterpretation, but for the sake of thoroughness, let’s also include the blink and you’ll miss it moment before the Lucia procession where Henry notices Wilmon texting each other. In this cropped screenshot, you can see him looking at Simon, who has just put his phone down and is looking over at Wille.

1.06: Henry shows restraint

As we know, Henry is the only classmate who tries to treat Wille normally after the video, asking if he “saw the match yesterday” (he absolutely knows Wille didn’t). What is perhaps less noticeable is that he also shows more restraint than most of his schoolmates when the rumour mill gets going.

In this scene, Henry is pretty dispassionate reminding Walter that Wilmon sat next to each other at movie night and the two of them talked about it. There is a stark contrast to Walter, who absolutely pounces on that bit of gossip.

That one quick scene could just be a coincidence, but the same thing happens when Wilmon return to school. Instead of engaging with the others who are all eagerly talking and whispering, Henry is already sitting at his desk minding his own business when Wille arrives. His only reaction to Simon showing up is this quick look, which is immediately followed by his show of kindness to Wille:

So the restraint does look very intentional.

As an aristocrat, monarchist and Society boy, Henry is loyal to Wille, who he now knows has been carrying on with Simon for a while already. He also knows how far Wille went to protect Simon, despite the fact that Simon had actually supplied the drugs, so he is going to side with Wille.

What’s more, Henry’s behaviour in these scenes also confirms that he isn’t hostile to Simon. We can surmise he probably doesn’t think Simon is the most appropriate choice of partner for the crown prince, but he is willing to take his cues from Wille. We never see him sneer, joke, or say anything nasty about Wilmon as a couple (cf. Stella and Fredrika joking about surrogacy).

We are also shown his reaction to Wille hugging Simon before we move on to season two.

2.02: the floorball hug and walk-by

The first interaction between Henry and Simon in S2 is them celebrating a floorball goal with a spontaneous hug, as seen at the top of this post. What a difference a term makes!

Now, I don’t think this moment is meant to signify that they are friends all of a sudden, and I do feel it comes slightly out of the blue. I suspect it was included as a nod to those who already liked Henry after S1, but I for one would’ve preferred to actually see their reconciliation.

But then again, if their initial antagonism was always class conflict rather than personal beef, maybe there was no need for apologies…? Maybe each of them just accepted that the other was going to be around and decided to try and get along (potentially aided by their shared rowing team history)? Henry is following Wille’s lead as we already saw – and as for Simon, I doubt he would be hugging Henry even in the heat of a game if he held a grudge. Whether we saw it or not, they have moved on.

In the same episode, we also have the locker room scene.

Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t believe Henry actually overhears the entire conversation, but he may have still heard something about them having to wait two years (as Simon did raise his voice for that). It’s also possible he comes out of this scene assuming that Wilmon still “hang out” in secret. In any case, he probably assumes that Wille wants to keep the whole thing quiet, as per the usual “policy” on queer relationships among the upper classes. In addition to his monarchist ways, he also seems to be casually friendly with Wille in S2 (keeps inviting him to do stuff, from coffee to pranking Sprucewood). So it makes a lot of sense for him to keep whatever he overhears or suspects to himself.

2.03, 2.05 and 2.06: book report scenes

While Henry must be a nightmare to have in the group, he and Simon are nice to each other in all the book report scenes. This is further proof that they are in a place where they can talk civilly and even work together.

They start the project before the rowing race and only present it the day before the gun range scene, which means they had these group sessions for at least a few weeks (the timeline is a bit wonky here).

2.04: Henry snitches on Wille and Felice

The lunch scene at the start of the episode starts with this bit of vicarious interaction, as Henry and Simon (and Wille too) are amused by the nonsense Walter is spouting about girls:

Also, Walter's monologue feels more comphet every time rewatch it, but I digress.

As this post is focused on Henry and Simon, I’m not going to dig too deep into Henry’s role in spreading the story about Wille and Felice. Suffice it to say that he did tell his canonically gossipy bestie Walter, and it was recently pointed out to me that he seems to have let something slip to someone else as well. In the common room, Walter goes “det var du som sa till…” [you were the one who said to…] just as the focus shifts to Wille and Nils, which suggests that Henry either purposely told someone or misspoke without realising it. The latter would explain why he seems genuinely appalled when Wille confronts him, but it’s not a hill I’d be willing to die on!

If Henry did spread the story on purpose, I assume it was because getting with Felice was considered a credit to Wille and also “fair game” to tell, unlike the relationship with Simon that Wille wanted to keep hidden.

Still, Henry and Simon are definitely on better terms in S2. Even though Henry inadvertently causes pain to Simon with his part in the Wille and Felice thing, they still keep working together on the book report without any animosity.

Insofar as Henry’s lacklustre effort can be called working. Simon is a bigger person than I am for not blowing up at him when he announces minutes before the presentation that he won’t be taking any questions.

3.01: background Henry

We start S3 off with this one-sided interaction where Henry reacts to Wilmon kissing with a mild smirk. No more waiting or secrets to keep.

3.02: double standards on the camping trip

It’s not entirely clear what Henry is thinking when he says the infamous line about gay couples being allowed to share but not straight ones. I think some people read it as him deliberately putting Wilmon on the spot, but personally, I doubt he even realises it’s going to make them uncomfortable. He’s just noticing the double standard and pointing it out to mess with the teacher.

While Simon is very clearly not pleased with Henry for the comment (glares at him while saying to Wille that people are going to think they plan to have sex), he does not seem to hold that against him. Because what we do see them doing soon?

Sitting next to each other by the fire, even though Henry could’ve easily sat with Walter and Simon with Wille:

Also, it seems Henry isn't new to camping, as he tells Wille that part of the fire is too hot to grill a sausage in.

The part where things get interesting is when Henry acts classist towards the Marieberg students.

Henry seems to be down with meeting Rosh and Ayub, who are there as Wille and Simon’s friends. But after Fredrika brings up New York, he agrees that the situation turned “stiff as fuck.” That stiffness was entirely Fredrika’s fault (I think she is at least semi-consciously trying to mark herself as the most compatible partner for Stella there), but Henry seems to feel it was more about Rosh and Ayub not fitting in.

He also sneers and makes nasty comments when the other Marieberg students get into an altercation with Malin, which elicits a frown from Simon.

And yet, Simon does not condemn Henry as strongly as he might have done in the past.

Importantly, Simon tells Wille “it wasn’t the right time for everyone to meet.” This indicates that he could’ve imagined them all getting along at a better time, and it’s pretty clear that also includes Henry. Furthermore, “you [meaning Wille and the others] don’t realise how privileged you are sometimes” is actually a pretty neutral way of putting it. Simon would have been entirely justified if he had said the others were classist pricks, but he blames their privilege and lack of understanding instead of their character.

All of this forms a backdrop for my interpretation of the scenes in the next episodes.

3.03: First of May

Simon: “You do know that you’re not off so you can party the day before, right?” Henry: “Uhh…what?” Simon: “It’s the First of May.” […] “The day of the labour movement?” Henry: “Okay, so what’s their style? How do they celebrate?” Simon, scoffing: “You don’t celebrate. You demonstrate.” [Henry and Walter share a chuckle]

This may be a controversial take, but I don’t think Henry is being particularly nasty to Simon here.

He actually looks and sounds quite sincere asking how the labour movement celebrates. When he and Walter laugh, it reads more as “there he goes again, our very own sosse, saying wacky things!” than the kind of disdain he expressed towards the Marieberg students in the last episode.

Simon also doesn’t take the laughter as an insult; he’s just stupefied by their ignorance. Also, note that he already scoffed at Henry’s question, marking the question as silly.

This exchange is immediately followed by Vincent attacking Simon for his beliefs, which feels like an intentional trick to create contrast between his and Walty’s treatment of Simon.

3.04: the lollipop

In this scene, Henry starts out asking quite nicely and seriously if Simon has another lollipop, as if they had that kind of rapport. Simon makes a face, but then he just shakes his head and nicely says no. It’s only then that Henry switches to offering money for the already half-eaten lollipop, to which Simon reacts with disbelief.

He does not, however, get snarky with Henry. He settles for exchanging a look with Wille as Walty go on to complain about the hunger strike. Only when Henry isn’t present anymore does he point out to Wille how ridiculous Henry was being.

In a sort of parallel to the lunch scene, Simon and Wille now share a chuckle at the wacky thing Henry said:

Feel free to disagree, but I actually wonder if this could be a common pattern between Simon and Henry. They have accepted that they aren’t going to see eye to eye on many things, but instead of getting into conflict, they just roll their eyes/laugh at how the other can seriously believe/say such things. Then they let the conversation move on to something else.

Which is a perfectly valid dynamic. They can acknowledge that their outlooks on life are wildly different without hating each other for it.

3:06: Henry includes Simon

Look, I dislike the library scene as much as the next person. The talk that Henry interrupts between Wilmon was so much more important than anything he could possibly say. It was just a moment of comic relief that didn’t add anything to the story.

Except… Now that we are tracing Henry and Simon’s “not-quite friendship” arc, this scene does give us a conclusion.

Henry: “Hi! Uh, what are you wearing tonight?” [He rambles on about clothes] Wille: “I don’t know if… If I’m coming.” Henry: “Okay…?” Simon: “I don’t know if I can come either.” Henry: “Oh come on, you two have to come!” [He rambles on about how much fun it will be] Simon: “Yeah, we’ll see. I have to go now.” Henry: “The point is that we have to be together! This is the only night we have together, maybe ever. [I mean, we are brothers!]”

In Swedish, Henry goes “vi är ju bröder” just as the music starts. This has been translated to “we are like brothers” in the English CC, which is already quite something, but the little word ju makes the original even stronger. It means that something is true, so instead of just saying they are like brothers, Henry is saying that is what they are.

(In the dub, there is an audible pause after like, so Henry is actually using it as a filler word. They should have put a comma in the CC to denote that.)

Given that Henry prefaces this ramble with “you two have to come” and barely stops to acknowledge Simon’s exit, there’s every reason to assume he is still talking about all of them. He is saying he considers himself, Wille, and also Simon part of the brotherhood that will be disbanded indefinitely come morning and wants them all to have one last night of fun together.

Simon never hears the brothers part and is of course frustrated with Henry for interrupting, but he still takes his leave on a casually friendly note. He gets that Henry wants him to come and have fun (Henry is unaware that Simon doesn’t drink when he tries to persuade them by talking about the alcohol). Thus, Simon politely says “we will see” even though he has zero intention of going.

We do not see them interact at the party when Simon goes after all, but we do hear Henry being ushered away when Simon comes to talk to Wille. We don’t see it’s Henry, but someone insists that he wants to stay just as Walter and Alexander leave, and all three of them were there moments before:

I’m tempted to end this with a parallel to Wille’s initiation party.

Way back in 1.01, Henry and Simon were explicitly shown discussing the first party with their friends. They never talked about it with each other or interacted there – Henry attended as part of the in-crowd, and Simon only got to go because he procured the alcohol. But for this last party, it’s Henry who has procured the alcohol, and he specifically invites Simon to come. They still don’t hang out as they are both there with their respective friends, i.e. in their own bubbles, but those bubbles do bump into/brush past one another without clashing.

Kind of like Henry and Simon’s lives.

Thank you for reading this marathon post! I hope my take on these two brings something to your next rewatch, whether you agree with me or not!

[monowires]

i’m gonna say it. mshenko’s development over the third game is so beautifully bittersweet.

two men who know they could wake up the next day without the other by their side, still deciding to love each other like they had the rest of their lives. and in a way, they did.

shepard’s “someone to live for,” which is so telling if you look at it for a moment. a man who has died and been resurrected—a man who knows what it’s like to die—admitting, albeit subtly, that he didn’t have any real purpose. nothing that was more personal than trying to save the entire galaxy. but kaidan… kaidan gave him something concrete to fight for. something that made him think, “gods dammit, i want to live.” something that made him see a person when he looked in the mirror, and not just a weapon.

kaidan’s “you’re real enough for me,” which tells of the depth of his love. because here, kaidan is saying that it doesn’t matter if shepard is some fancy, elaborate cerberus clone. here, he’s saying that he has finally been able to put some of his doubts and worries to rest—perhaps not all of them, but enough, enough that most of the hurt and anger from his sudden reappearance has been quelled. it’s kaidan saying that he loves shepard; that he’s not overlooking his flaws, but rather that he loves shepard with such an intensity that he loves his flaws, too, because they are part of him. it’s kaidan, who has always had an iron grip over his emotions ever since baat, admitting that shepard has somehow made him feel something so intense and so important that he’s letting it grow of its own accord. that shepard somehow got past all of his self control in a way that was utterly terrifying—and in some ways, still is.

it’s two men who are both broken in their own ways finding it a little easier to hold themselves together when they have the other by their side. it’s something so, so beautiful finding a way to grow amidst a world of destruction and loss.

and gods dammit, i’m so normal about them.

[marypaol]

My Hurt, My Hurt

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader overhears Harry saying something hurtful. And words hurt.

Warnings: Crying, gossiping about others, mentions of eyes being puffy (I don’t know lol), angst, one bad word.

Note: For the lovely @pottermagiczz for requesting! I really hope you like it!

It wasn’t on purpose, the accidental occurrence of being right outside of the room where the conversation was taking place.

But her feet had taken her there, looking for her lost Potions book that she had perhaps left there previously. It was then where she heard murmuring, the voice of two teenage boys discussing something over hushed tones.

As an average person would, the curiosity brewing in her chest got the best of her, and, her Potions book slowly being forgotten, leaned her ear towards the room, trying to catch even a few words they were saying.

Fortunately for her, she quickly discovered that one of those voices were Ron Weasley, and it is common knowledge to know he’s not such a good whisperer.

“So you don’t like her?”

“Shh Ron! Not so loud, will ya?”

The owner of the second voice was obviously Harry Potter himself. She figured such since she often heard Snape call him out while she was working, and she started to recognize the voice without glancing upwards; plus she, as everyone else as well, quickly figured out Snape had a disliking for Potter.

“So you do?” Ron asked urgently, breaking the girl out of her thoughts about Potions, her mind once again slowly forgetting her book that was probably on the table right in front of where they were talking.

“No I don’t. She’s crazy, Ron. Always talking about him. I tried to talk about something else, but she just started crying.”

The girl would’ve heard a undisturbed laugh, but what she heard instead was Ron muffling it with his hands, somehow making it sound more obvious of his chuckles.

Her heart squeezed with anxiety. She recalled a moment, a moment where she didn’t want to remember, but her brain brought it to the front of her mind anyway, pushing it into her thoughts despite her protests.

It started with a sweet Hufflepuff boy she encountered, resulting in blushing cheeks and brushing shoulders. Their lips have locked and their hands have intertwined. But even by a couple months he locked lips with another girl in what they thought was an abandoned corridor, her teary eyes being the next thing he saw when he heard a sniffle.

He tried to explain, tried to gain her broken heart’s pieces back together, but it was no use. So she was left broken and teary-eyed, running through the halls before bumping into Potter, his flustered face turning scarlet out of surprise and embarrassment when he saw she was crying.

He had comforted her that day, warm arms she always dreamed of being in wrapping around her shoulders. She observed from a far that when he hugged friends after Quidditch games, he often placed his face in their neck, and he was doing just that. His nose tickled her skin, his soft breathing brushing it. His lips were something she would always remember, for his mouth was touching her shoulder. She remembered shivering in the best way, but she hoped he took it as she was shaking from the endless sobs that were previously escaping her. But as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, as soon as his lips touched her skin, as soon as his heartbeat was beating in her ears, the sobs ceased.

Was he talking about her? The moment where he held her at her most vulnerable state, the moment he provided her so much comfort that she believed nothing could hurt her again. He could’ve been taking about anyone else in the school, for there was so many girls they could be discussing.

But only one girl he comforted while she was sobbing over a break up with a boy. And that was her.

So yeah, it burned, it burned when he talked about that moment like it was nothing, like the comfort he provided her was fake. Did he even care? Why would he be annoyed by her hurt? Why would he be annoyed when her heart was crushing by the second, watching as her hands fumbled with the pieces as he held her?

And something else burned, besides her chest that was trying by the second to stay together, and that was her eyes, for the tears were brimming her lids.

Her vision got blurry. And yet she stayed, her brain telling herself that he had more to say, more words to destroy her with before she finally walked away.

And she was right, painfully, for Harry wasn’t done yet.

“Why was she crying?” Ron asked. She could hear Harry’s eye roll in his voice, annoyance dripping from his words.

“It’s obvious, Ron. He isn’t with her anymore.”

“Right.” Ron muttered. “Well didn’t she have the right to be sad?”

She peaked just enough to see Harry shrug. “I mean I guess but it was so awkward- like go cry to someone else, please. Plus she ruined my robes with snot.”

It wasn’t just the words that hurt, but the tone in the boy’s voice. He sounded done, annoyed even. But why would he decide to comfort her when he was gonna later go and make of it?

She backed away from the door, eyes burning with the very tears he just ridiculed. She faintly heard Ron bid goodnight, his heavy steps going up to the boys’ dorm once Harry said the same thing.

She was sure she heard Harry’s footsteps as well, squeaky shoes from rainy Quidditch practice going up the stairs, following Ron.

She entered the Common Room then, eyes blurred as she spotted her Potions book on the table. She gripped it in her fingers, almost like she was giving it her pain before practically sprinting up the stairs to her own dorm, a sob wedged in her chest the whole way up.

As soon as she entered the room the noise was let out, the pain in her chest far worse than it was that night in his arms. She sat on her bed, hugging a pillow as if it would take her heart ache.

She thought Harry cared about people other than his friends. She thought he was nice. Maybe the popularity around Hogwarts just made him careless. She didn’t know the reason, but all she knew was that she was planning on never talking to Harry again.

It’s not like he would care anyway, right?

Her eyes were red the next morning. Which was something she hated, but she had to deal with it. She could’ve simply put her wand to her face and casted a spell to get rid of it, but she recalled an occurrence where a girl in Hufflepuff did that only to have such puffy eyes she couldn’t see for two days; even the nurse took forever to get the swelling down.

But, to her fortune, they swelled down a little bit by the time it was breakfast.

She sat in her usual spot, the one no one else sits at, away from everyone else.

Yes, it as her Fourth Year at Hogwarts and her she still didn’t really have any friends. Sure, she was on good terms with Hermione and Ginny, but they didn’t speak to her often, mainly focused on Harry.

Harry.

They spoke quite a lot since the encounter in the corridor, her crying in his arms. He would stop by her dorm steps and walk her to class, walk by her in the corridors and catching up on the latest news.

But ever since last night she wanted to break that bond, for now she thought differently of the boy. She wouldn’t lie though, she did miss talking to him. She missed the smile he would give her in the mornings, and the soft giggles they would share in Potions class, making fun of how Snape’s nose looked abnormally large that morning.

But it was all over.

She thought he cared about her.

Was all those exchanged giggles and smiles for nothing? Just a cruel joke to him when to her they meant everything?

She ended up not being able to eat that morning, for the swirling in her stomach from Harry’s words kept her from doing so.

She kept her head down most of the meal, not wanting to make accidental eye contact with anyone so they could see her partly red eyes.

It wasn’t until her ears picked up on the sound of feet stepping toward her that she looked up.

Only to meet green eyes the color of freshly grown spring grass.

She almost flinched at the sudden company, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Why did he want to talk to her? He just made fun of her, now he’s gonna act like he cares?

His lips parted and closed like a fish for a couple seconds, them just staring at one another before he spoke. “Hi.”

His voice was shaky but he didn’t stutter.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he probably could see her red eyes. “Hello, Harry.”

She mentally cursed him for looking so good today. He didn’t look any different than the other times she’s seen him, realistically, but maybe the fact that she planned not to talk to him her mind highlighted all his good features.

His glasses framed his eyes exceptionally perfect, cheeks flushed and eyes darting too and fro every couple seconds.

Damn it Harry, why do you have to be so cute?

She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed on his feet, putting his weight on one leg then the other. His eyebrows shot up as if he was surprised at her question before putting himself together and replying.

“W-” his throat cleared. “Why aren’t you talking to me anymore?”

She almost was thrown back by his answer. He couldn’t be serious.

But the hopeless tone in his voice proved her otherwise, like he genuinely wanted to know. The way his eyes were so wide in confusion and wonder behind his glasses, wondering why she was avoiding him.

Obviously he didn’t know she was outside the Common Room during his complaints towards her, but why did his confusion and slight hurt look so genuine?

She cleared her throat, both to make her voice not crack and clear her running questions in her mind. “I think it’s quite obvious, Harry.”

His confusion only got deeper and more expressive, eyebrows furrowing and forehead ceasing in thought. “I’m afraid I do not follow….”

She suddenly felt a spur of anger towards the boy before her, own eyebrows scrunching in frustration. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Harry. Don’t act like what you said wouldn’t have any effect on me whatsoever.”

“What I said?” He questioned, face showing even deeper confusion. “I didn’t say anything about you, not anything negative that is.”

“Oh don’t lie,” she found herself blurting out. “I heard you saying that I was annoying and that you wanted me to drool all over someone else-”

“Woah,” he interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing her arm oh so gently. He then let a light-hearted laugh escape his lips, unknowingly to him only raising the anger inside her.

“What’s so funny?” She demanded, trying to rip her arm out of his grip but failing to do so.

“Love,” he started softly, sitting down beside the girl and finally letting go of her arm, leaning his elbow on the table in front of them. He then faced her, face showing so much genuine feelings that she had trouble staying angry with him, so much so that she felt the snarl on her lips falling into a slight frown.

He then tapped her leg to bring back her attention to him, as if her brain wasn’t already crowded with thoughts of the black-headed boy. “Did you even hear your name within the conversation?” He asked gently, a teasing glint in his eyes.

She scoffed, like the answer was obvious, but now that she thought about it she couldn’t quite place hearing her name in their discussion, for he just used pronouns. But that didn’t make the possibility of them discussing her any less.

“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean-”

He sighed, shushing her softly. “Yes it does, because I wasn’t even talking about you. I was talking about..” he then hesitated, almost like the actual person he was gossiping about was watching him over his shoulder. “I was talking about Cho.”

The girl’s eyes widened, subconsciously spotting forward on the bench of the table closer to him. “But I was crying and you comforted me,” she protested, still trying to convince herself that she was the person he was talking bad about. But Cho? What had she done to Harry to make him talk so negatively about her?

“So did Cho,” Harry started. “Sobbing about Cedric. And I know that it was a valid reason to be crying about, but it was awkward because we aren’t that close, and she ruined my freshly cleaned robes.”

The girl couldn’t help it, she let out a tiny giggle at not only the fact that Harry was complaining about his robes, but the face he made. He looked like he genuinely felt bad for talking bad about the Ravenclaw, yet deep down he really wasn’t sorry; his expression of showing it was too funny not to laugh at.

“Hey, I feel kinda bad now, okay?” Harry attempted to protest, but he still had a curved corner to his lips.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she assured. “I’m glad you weren’t talking about me, because I would definitely missed talking to you.”

Harry’s cheeks dusted pink which made her admire him more than usual, his shoulders curving into his neck to attempt to hide himself.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Harry’s voice suddenly went lower, in a quiet whisper that she had to slightly lean in to hear him. “That I don’t at all regret what I did to comfort you, and that I care about your feelings. And that I would never to anything to intentionally harm them.”

It was the girl’s turn to have flushed cheeks, for she could feel them burning her face up at that very moment. Her heart fluttered at the praise and the love that flooded his words. She felt warm all over, her chest fuzzy with emotion as she shyly looked away from him. “Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me. And that goes for me as well, I care about your feelings too.”

Harry smiled, something she wanted to see every second of her life. His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses, happiness flooding his features and she could feel her cheeks warming, all because of the boy in front of her.

“Do you think that we can forget this misunderstanding and start over?” She asked almost shyly, like she was embarrassed for assuming their discussions were about her.

Harry eagerly nodded, making her chuckle, and they shook hands to seal their promise.

Let’s just say that those intertwined hands didn’t separate until they got to their next class, for they were afraid Snape would ridicule them at their public forms of affection.

[itsgivingmami]

Her Altar- Rhea Ripley

Warning: religious based homophobia

Practice what you practice, love who you love.

   Growing up had been nothing special. School during the week, riding your bike with friends on Saturdays and stuffing yourself into clothes you dreaded for church on Sunday.

   You had never really liked church but at a young age it hadn't occurred to you exactly what it was. You didn't like to do it the same way you dreaded math tests and asparagus but it wasn’t exactly an optional occurrence. As a young child you'd found the grain in the back of the pew you'd sat behind more interesting than whatever the pastor was groaning on about.

    For your seventh birthday your parents had gifted you a simple gold cross necklace and had hung it around you like a totem before you could tell them you weren't particularly fond of it. Or church.

   As you got older you learned very quickly that your opinion of faith was null and despite the fact that you were real, tangible and god (presumably) wasn't didn't matter. The laws of the bible did.  By the time you were thirteen you knew you were attracted to women, the constant reminder that being gay was a sin had only served as education on the subject. the constant reminder to stay quiet about how you felt kept you safe and you learned to repress school crushes on other girls. Growing up in a prejudice environment masked in faith had took its toll,

Then along came Rhea,

    Hiding your feelings for her made you feel more guilty than betraying the faith you were supposed to have. Every time you two hung out you felt like you were lying to her, you felt dishonest when you two linked arms walking through the mall and when she fell asleep next to you in the same bed during sleep overs. You started to avoid her under the guise of protecting her, believing that she was better off without you pining after her.

    "Why are you avoiding me?" She had caught you at your locker, trapping you between her body and cold metal.

     "I'm not.." you laugh off avoiding her gaze and you try and find a way under her arm.

    "We have talked everyday for the last god knows how long and suddenly radio silence," you shake your head as if she's wrong, but you know she's not. "I watched you make eye contact with me and run down the hall the other direction and did you think I wouldn't notice that you haven't been to a single one of my games in weeks?" You didn't, you figured she wouldn't notice your absence on the sideline and that she'd have no issues finding someone else to talk with. "What gives? I miss you,"

    You keep your eyes on her shoes, a familiar pair of dirty black chucks, your doodles covering the toes and you remember the day you two had spent ditching class on the bleachers with her legs thrown over your lap. Your parents had berated you for skipping but you hardly heard it, deeming the time you got to spend with Rhea worth it.

    "I'm sorry," you spoke quietly before biting the inside of your cheek, trying to will you ears to stop tearing,

   "Don't apologise just tell me what I did so I don't do it again and-" the hand she's gesturing with falls to her side, "let me have my friend back,"

    It's too much, the combination of her blaming and the way she calls you her friend makes you feel overwhelmed by guilt. You feel exasperated by the inner conflict and you want her to understand that you can't give her back her friend, because you don't feel at all friendly about her but telling her means really telling her the truth and your not ready to fully loose her either.

   "It's not you," you rasp as you quickly duck under her arm and run from her not bothering to close your locker door. It's selfish, but you can't have her too close and you can't loose her entirely. So without explaining yourself you flee and continue to keep her at arm's length. Rhea stands frozen staring at the spot you were just in, sighs and closes her eyes before gently shutting your locker for you.

                                             ~

     For the first time in years you go to confession after safely making it out the building sure Rhea wasn't going to come after you. Pulling open the door you don't remember walking here at all.

    You see the shadow of the priest through the lattice as you sit on the bench. It takes you a moment before you realise your supposed to greet him.

    "Sorry uh-," you shake your head and bring your hand up to cross your heart, your necklace feels like it's burning your skin as you speak. "Bless me father, for I have sinned?" It comes out as more of a question and you swallow thickly already regretting this decision. "It clearly has been a long time since my last confession," You hear a hum from the other side,

    "You are here now," its sounds empty, like he's said it too many times today and you're sure he has. "Why?"

    "I think I love someone," you tell him, it's the first time you admit it and hearing it out loud makes your chest thump.

    "How do you know you love him?" He asks you and you wince, him. Everything inside you is screaming at you to run, but you stay planted. Faith and whatnot right?

    "My heart races and I would do anything for," you hesitate, "this person, I can't imagine hurting the person I love, so much so I would hurt myself before I ever could," tears start to fall as you talk about it for the first time, "I can't live without her but I would if she asked me too,"

                                              ~

       When you walk through the door your parents are waiting, scowling and deep down you know; they know. Weren’t confessionals supposed to be private? A bag lands in front of your feet with a thud.

     "There will be no sinners living under our roof," your mother spits, you look to your dad you refuses to meet your eyes. You throw the strap over your shoulder and swallow thickly before straightening your posture. A shaky hand reaches up to your necklace and rip it off tossing it at their feet before leaving.

                                          ~

      Rhea has a cd playing quietly so she can listen to the thunder as she watches the rain our outside, she still can't figure out what she did to upset you and it's driving her nuts. Deciding to skip soccer practice and head home after you'd run from her again. She runs a hand through her hair at the memory and blinks back tears. It was bad enough she had cowered out of telling you about her feelings so many times, now you wouldn't even talk to her at all.

    Maybe you had caught on to her clingy-ness, she hated to think that she didn't at least get the chance to confess that she loved you in a way that might not freak you out. Her dim computer screen on her desk remains on her aim, countless unanswered messages on your part.

   "Rhea!!" Her mom's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she quickly gets up and heads downstairs. She freezes on the last step when she spots you, soaked through, shaking, red eyed and her mother trying to wrap you in a blanket. She spots your dripping bags near the front door and she feels her body flash with heat as a rage bubbles up.

     "What happened?" Rhea questions as she comes towards you, making quick work of pulling her hoodie over her head using it wipe water from your face. You simply let out a sob in response as you jerk forward, she steps closer and pulls you against her.

   "They kicked me out," you sputter between breaths, "I didn't know where to go,"

     "Here," she answers and her mom hands her another blanket which she lays gently over your shaking body, "always here," She holds you while you cry into her collar and makes eye contact with her mom who simply nods before grabbing your bag to put whatever she can in the dryer.

    "We gotta getcha warm baby," she whispers to you softly, the endearment comes out naturally and you let out a soft cry at how kind she's being despite the fact that you've been avoiding her for weeks. "Let's go to my room yeah?"

   She holds your waist as she guides you upstairs, the front of your head is starting to hurt from crying and your face feels fuzzy. You enter the familiar space, greeted by pictures and posters you helped hang. Rhea sits you gently on her unmade bed and flips on the desk lamp, a soft yellow light illuminates the room.

     "You need dry clothes," she speaks as she's opening drawers in her dresser and rifling through unfolded piles. "Sweatpants or shorts? Tee or sweater," she rambles half to you half to herself. As you watch her grab things for you and mumble to herself you make a decision.

    "Rhea," you watch her turn to you "I have something I need to tell you,"

                                                ~

    "Whatcha doing baby?" Your wife's voice makes your memory fade as the window comes back into view, the patter of rain drops against it and the occasional clap of thunder. Strong inked arms come to wrap around your middle and you lean back into her.

     "Thinking," you tease, reaching up to scratch her jaw with your nails and she growls into your palm at your answer. "You know me well enough to know,"

      "Mmmmm," she hums as her chin rests on your shoulder. She does know exactly what storms remind you of, which is why she'd abandoned her workout in the garage to find you. Usually you'd be in the basement trying to drown out the sound but she had found you in the master bedroom in-front of the glass balcony doors. Your silhouette illuminated by snaps of lighting. “I love you,"

“I love you more “ you tilt your head back to look at her, you tell her you love her all the time but you gaze into her eyes trying to tell her how much you mean it each time. She places gentle kisses on your neck as her hands slide down to your front, you feel her warm palms press against your hips, pushing you further against her body.

“I love you most, I win,” she growls into your nape and you let out a soft breath at the feeling, a pleasant warmth swells in your chest. Her strong hands grip at your hip bones and it sends lighting straight to your core. You turn to face her and the loving gaze she’s holding you with. “Hi pretty girl,” she rasps to you.

“Hi,” you respond and smile before her lips are on yours and her tongues in your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum as her hand comes up to thread through your hair, holding you tightly against her. You’re both overwhelmed by emotions as your kiss gets messier, thinking about the days when you hadn’t been out and married to the love of your life. You gently separate from her mouth, “I need you,” you tell her, your lips brushing against hers as you beg for her. You feel the tell tale sign of her gripping at your waist band and you lift onto your toes and she pulls you to wrap around her body.

“God you’re beautiful,” Rhea admires you, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths mingle. You brush her bangs away from her face and she stares at you above her, she watches you like you’re the stars.

“Take me to bed,” you ask her and although you cannot be closer you need more, you need to be the place that’s always been the safest; enclosed by Rheas body.

“Did somebody forget who’s in charge?” She teases and she nibbles your ear lobe, you whine and squirm in protest which gets you a light slap to your ass but you feel Rhea start to move towards the bed anyway. Your back hits the soft mattress and your wife crawls over to join you.

“I let that last one go,” she tells you as her fingers running under the hem of your shirt and up the side of your ribs, her gaze flicks back out the window. She wants you to know that you’re okay, she understands it’s a hard night for you, “but act like a brat again and I’ll treat ya like one,” she gently slaps the bottom of your thigh a couple times before you bend it and her strong grip holds you.

“Rhea,” you gasp as her teeth hit your collarbone followed by the soothing of her tongue. She chuckles lowly and pulls your tank top up over your stomach, you sit up quickly helping her rip it off.

“There’s my good girl,” Rhea praises your obedience and you melt a little more, your body pliant as she pressed you back down to the mattress. Her mouth is warm as she sucks marks onto your bare chest before taking a hardened bud, you throw your head backwards as you let out a moan.

The memories of your past fade a little more each time she teaches you true worship and only with her do you start to believe the priest who outed you might’ve actually been divine intervention. In the morning when you wake up next to her you’re certain angels exist, they simply must with one laying in front of you and in the night before you fall asleep you find your faith kneeling at her altar. You aren’t afraid that your love would cast you to hell, not when the goddess above you brings you pure bliss that you swear it must be what heaven really is.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14 (Alternate ending)

Hey, it's me again!

So this is the happy ending. I have to admit that writing this one was way easier than the other one. I hope you will like it too :)

TW : Blood, mention of death and PTSD.

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face. Lucy kisses her palm softly before pressing her forehead against Ona.

“Remember when I said I couldn’t live somewhere where you aren’t?”

“Yes” Ona breathes softly. “But you promised…”

“I never promised anything” Lucy shakes her head. “We live together, or we die together”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds, before nodding softly. She understands. She couldn’t live in a world where Lucy isn’t here either. It must be harder for Lucy; Lucy doesn’t have her family or any friends outside the arena.

“What do you have in mind?” Ona whispers.

“We can jump. Where Teagan…”

Lucy doesn’t finish her sentence, but Ona understands easily. After thinking for some more seconds, Ona nods again.

“I don’t know if I could walk, it’s a little far from here”

“I’ll carry you”

They can’t hear the wolves anymore, but there is no doubt that they are busy with whatever they are doing now. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Very carefully, Lucy picks Ona from the ground to carry her like a just married couple. It makes Ona smile softly, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck.

“I love you” Ona whispers, her face in Lucy’s neck.

“I love you too. So much.”

They stay silent during the walk, Lucy walking slowly. She’s exhausted to be honest and now they know how they will end. Together. They don’t need to rush anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asks after some minutes.

“My parents. My brother… Aitana, too”

“Do you think they will be together?”

“They better be together already”

Lucy chuckles before kissing softly Ona’s temple. Her mind goes to her family too, wondering what they are thinking about her right now. They probably aren’t proud of her, but she doesn’t care anymore.

Seeming to be able to read in her mind, Ona talks again.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” she whispers.

Lucy hums at first before looking at Ona. The younger one was already looking at her, her chocolate eyes so soft and full of love.

“I’m proud of you too” Lucy says back. “And I’m sure that your parents and the people you love are proud too. Alexia must be really proud too. You kind of win the Games after all.”

“No” Ona shakes her head. “You’re the real winner.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as they get out of the forest. They pass the starting point, Ona looking at the scoreboard. It’s strange to see that only their names are on it now. Lucy killed the most people between them both, but it doesn’t mean anything now. It isn’t important anymore.

“Are you in pain?”

Ona shakes her head once again at Lucy’s question. She feels good and almost safe in Lucy’s arms.

“I always feel better in your arms”

“You don’t need to try to charm me, you know? I’ve been in love with you for a long time already.”

“I’m not trying” Ona mumbles sleepily. “Just telling the truth.”

She takes advantage of being carried by Lucy to look around her, admiring the view for the first time. Before, she was too concentrated on the Games to find something beautiful. She remembers perfectly the building in the north of the arena, giving her a sweet feeling of being back home.

“Don’t fall asleep now, Love. We’re almost there.”

Lucy’s voice kind of wakes Ona up. She opens her eyes with difficulty, but looking at Lucy is enough to help her stay awake.

Lucy was right though, several minutes later, they were standing next to the cliff. Ona’s isn’t sure that it’s exactly where Seth tried to kill her, but the idea is here.

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks one last time.

“More than ever. You?”

“More than ever.”

Lucy smiles softly, looking at Ona with the most tender gaze ever. It makes Ona harder to breathe, and it has nothing to do with her bleeding wound.

“One last kiss?” Ona asks.

Lucy doesn’t even answer, she just softly puts her lips on Ona’s. She couldn’t say how many times they had kissed each other, but it’s still the same feeling. And she loves it.

“At three?” Lucy asks softly.

Ona nods and takes a deep breath. She’s tempted to have a look below, but she chooses to look at Lucy instead. She holds Lucy harder when the other girl starts to count, wanting to be against her as long as possible.

“One”

Lucy takes a few small steps, coming closer to the end of the cliff. Ona can hear the water near them, a sound that she finds almost soothing.

“Two”

Ona keeps looking at Lucy. Her green eyes, her freckles, even if Lucy has way less than her. Lucy is looking at her too, smiling softly. But, just before Lucy says “three”, a deep voice suddenly resonates in the arena.

“NO! STOP!”

********

Awakened by the sun coming right into her eyes, Lucy sits down suddenly in her bed, looking around her, a little lost. The dream she just had is one that she still makes from time to time. But it’s vivid, so real that it catches her every time.

“Ona?”

Next to her the bed is empty, no trace of someone alive there. It makes her heart beat faster and she doesn’t like this feeling.

“Ona?” Lucy calls again, harder this time.

She almost trips in the sheets of her bed when she gets up, and she arrives at the door at the same time as the door is open.

“Ona” Lucy sighs, before taking the younger girl in her arms.

Ona is here, seeming a little surprised by Lucy’s neediness at first before understanding that Lucy probably just had a nightmare. It happens to her too from time to time. Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s, stroking her back with her fingertips.

“You’re here” Lucy mumbles with her face hidden in Ona’s neck.

“I am here” Ona answer softly

They stay like this for a moment, Ona not wanting to break the hug. She feels that Lucy needs it, and she would never refuse a hug or a kiss to Lucy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ona asks with empathy.

Lucy only nods, her face still in Ona's neck. Her hairs are tickling the younger one, who has trouble not to laugh about it.

“What can I do for you?”

“Cuddles”

Lucy doesn’t really leave any choice to Ona, grabbing her from the ground to put her on her shoulder until they reach the bed. Then, she throws Ona on it before crawling on the bed too and laying on Ona.

“It’s okay, Baby” Ona says softly, playing with Lucy’s hair.

But Lucy only hums, her fingers following Ona’s scare on her stomach. She still can’t believe their luck sometimes. The organisers let them alive, the two of them. It provoked a lot of trouble for those men, but the fact’s still here. Lucy and Ona are still very alive.

They live together now, in District 8. Lucy went back to her family at first, they needed an answer from the Capitol for their request to live together. They could live in the Capitol, but it was very clear from the beginning that they will go near Ona’s family.

Everything isn’t perfect, to be honest. Lucy still has nightmares, Ona still jumps when she hears a big noise and has sometimes panic attacks too. They are both scared that someone would separate them at some point. Lucy dreams sometimes to run away, but there is nowhere to go. They are way safer here, in the house they built in District 8.

“Alexia’s pregnant” Ona says softly.

“What?”

Lucy raises her head suddenly, looking at her girlfriend with surprise paint on her face. Ona smiles, cupping tenderly Lucy’s cheek.

“Alexia is pregnant. She just told me in the letter I received this morning. The baby is due to spring”

“Pregnant” Lucy whispers, like she never heard of pregnancy before. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“They don’t know. They want to keep the surprise”

Lucy hums again, looking at Ona’s stomach thoughtfully. They left the arena four years ago and Joan already had a little girl last year. Lucy knows that she told Ona that she doesn’t want a baby, when they were in the Capitol. But right now, she has to admit that she wouldn’t be against that idea. But for that they have to go to the Capitol.

“Maybe we will have one baby too, someday” Lucy says carefully.

She doesn’t miss Ona’s surprised gaze at her. But Ona’s surprise quickly changes to a soft smile, before she grabs her face with her other hand to take her higher to be able to kiss her.

Lucy kisses her back, before kissing her cheek.

“But first I want to marry you” she says against Ona’s skin.

“You know that I’m already yours. All you have to do is ask”

It was true, she was only waiting for Lucy to propose. The dark-haired woman made clear really quickly that she wanted to be the one who would propose to the other. Ona doesn’t mind at all to be honest; she knows how much it means for Lucy.

And she will do so, several months later, after having asked Ona’s father if he would give them his blessing. She will ask Ona in their garden, during one of what they now call “stargazing session”. Of course, Ona’s answer will be yes.

And when they will welcome their little miracle almost three years after the wedding, Lucy knows that her life couldn’t be more perfect.

Perfect life, with her perfect wife whose surname she took. And now their perfect little boy, almost a clone of Ona, with his perfect name.

Jordi Teagan Batlle.

Sad Ending

[hrtzstargirl]

Sa'yo lang puso ko. (My heart is yours).

Hanni Pham.

Synopsis: You thought it was just her and her friends singing at the back of the classroom, a thing they always do every recess and every day. But soon, you noticed that whenever she sings a love song she's always looking at you, but you brush it off thinking it was nothing. But boy, were you so wrong.

Pairings: non idol!Hanni Pham x fem!reader

Songs: Gitara by Parokya ni Edgar. Sa'yo by Silent Sanctuary LISTEN TO THE SONGS GUYS! I LOVE IT VERY MUCH, it sooo romantic

Warnings/side notes: FLUFF. Classmates to lovers (Don't do it guys, it hurt so bad), Story takes place in a Philippine high school, alr ppl ik, why did I made it like that? Well simply because the song is OPM (Original Pilipino Music) and it fits well in that setting since most high school students found love (yuck, don't mind me I got broken hearted) few tagalog words, don't worry I'll put translation for u guys because I love u and I want you to read it (I just wasn't able to finished that minji fic I was talking abt) that's all, enjoy💙

--

The once silent classroom—well except for the teacher speaking—was broken once the teacher said his goodbyes and left.

You sat next to the window, scribbling down notes since you don't want to do it once you got home. Your friend—Wonyoung is too busy fixing up her make up to give a damn about anything.

Rei, on the other hand, is too busy munching food as she watched Wonyoung with a furrowed eyebrows, "I just don't understand why you have to fix your make up every five seconds. It's perfectly fine."

"Ugh, no! If I feel like it's not, then it's not." Wonyoung responded, too busy looking at her hand mirror and fixing her foundation or was it blush?

You don't know since you only glanced at her one time, "Hey! Why are you writing down notes? Wag mo na gawin yan!" (Don't do it!) Rei noticed you.

"Tsk, tinatamad ako gawin sa bahay, dito ko na gagawin." (Tsk, I'm too lazy to do it at home, so I'm doing it here.) You said without turning to look at them.

"Leave her be, she just wants to play games when she got home." Wonyoung snickered.

Rei nodded in response, munching on her snacks. "Hays, gaming talaga priority mo, Y/n," she said with a laugh. (Gaming is really your priority)

Before you could respond, the classroom door swung open, and Hanni walked in, her presence immediately capturing everyone's attention. She scanned the room briefly before her eyes landed on you.

You two locked eyes for a brief moment before Minji bumped into her shoulder 'accidentally', "Ay, sorry bro, hindi kita nakita, liit mo kasi." (I didn't see you, you're small)

Hanni glared at her, walking toward the back of the classroom with her guitar but not without stealing one more glance at you.

You felt a flutter in your chest as Hanni stole one more glance at you before settling at the back of the classroom with her guitar. Her presence always seemed to have an undeniable impact, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind those glances.

Every recess, Hanni and her friends would gather at the back of the classroom, their voices harmonizing as they sang their favorite songs. It was a routine you had grown accustomed to, one that provided a pleasant background to your daily activities.

At first, you thought nothing of it. It was just her and her friends, enjoying their time together, singing their hearts out. But as days turned into weeks, you began to notice a pattern. Whenever Hanni sang a love song, her eyes seemed to linger on you, her gaze soft and meaningful. You brushed it off, thinking it was just a coincidence.

But boy, were you so wrong.

Minji looked back at Hanni, then at you, then at Hanni. Something seems to click in her mind because she made a shocked face before letting out a huge grin. She walked over to Hanni quickly, sitting down next to her on the floor as Hanni tune her guitar.

"Bro, alam ko na." (I figured it out/ I know) Minji wiggled her eyebrows at Hanni annoyingly.

Hanni look at her in confusion, "Know what?"

"You like Y/n."

Hanni froze, she slowly turn her head towards Minji with a shocked look on her face. "WHAAT?"

Minji nodded excitedly. "Yeah dude, I figured it out earlier when you glanced at her before coming here at the back. You weren't so subtle you know?"

Hanni's face turned a deep shade of red as she stammered, "N-no, you're mistaken. I just... I mean, it's not like that!"

Minji chuckled, clearly enjoying her friend's embarrassment. "Come on, Hanni. It's obvious. You always look at her when you sing those love songs. Just admit it."

"I'm not admitting anything! I don't like her, you're delusional!"

"Yes you do! Ask Yujin or Minjeong, they also know! They're the reason why I figured it out quickly." Minji said a bit loud, causing a few heads to turn—except yours.

"SHHHH! You talk too loud, they'll hear us." Hanni whispered fiercely, glancing around nervously.

Minji grinned, clearly enjoying Hanni's discomfort. "Relax, no one’s paying attention. But seriously, why don't you just talk to her? What's the worst that could happen?"

Hanni sighed, fiddling with the strings of her guitar. "It's not that simple, Minji. What if she doesn't feel the same way? I don't want to make things awkward between us."

Minji placed a reassuring hand on Hanni's shoulder. "Hey, it's a risk, but it's one worth taking. You might be surprised by how she feels. Just give it a shot."

Hanni glanced over at you, deep in conversation with Rei and Wonyoung, oblivious to the discussion happening at the back of the classroom. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. "Alright, I'll think about it. But no more talking about this here, okay?"

Minji winked at her. "Got it. But remember, I'm rooting for you."

As Hanni watched you laugh with your friends, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to share her feelings with you openly. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith and see where her heart would lead.

Without a thought, her hand moved on its own, as Hanni's fingers moved effortlessly across the guitar strings, the familiar tune of "Gitara" by Parokya ni Edgar filled the classroom. Everyone knew this song, and it had a way of captivating anyone who heard it. She began to sing, her voice soft yet filled with emotion.

The strumming of guitar catches your attention because the tune is one of your favorites.

"Bakit pa kailangang magbihis?

Sayang din naman ang porma

Lagi lang namang may sisingit

Sa t'wing tayo'y magkasama"

Hanni's eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. She didn't even realize it, but she was looking directly at you as she sang.

"Bakit pa kailangan ng rosas

Kung marami namang mag-aalay sa'yo?

Uupo na lang at aawit

Maghihintay ng pagkakataon"

Her voice conveyed a depth of feeling that resonated with you, making your heart beat a little faster. The lyrics seemed to hold a personal message, one that was meant just for you.

"Hahayaan na lang silang magkandarapa na manligaw sa 'yo

Idadaan na lang kita sa awitin kong ito

Sabay ang tugtog ng gitara

Idadaan na lang sa gitara"

You couldn't tear your gaze away from her, the connection between you both growing stronger with each note. It was as if she was pouring her heart out through the song, hoping you'd understand what she was trying to say.

"Mapapagod lang sa kakatingin

Kung marami namang nakaharang

Aawit na lang at magpaparinig

Ng lahat ng aking nadarama"

The emotions in her voice were palpable, and you felt a mixture of surprise and warmth. Could it be that she had been trying to tell you something all along

"Pagbibigyan na lang silang magkandarapa na manligaw sa'yo

Idadaan na lang kita sa awitin kong ito

Sabay ang tugtog ng gitara

Idadaan na lang sa gitara"

Hanni continued to sing, her eyes never leaving yours. The moment was filled with unspoken words and emotions, the music bridging the gap between your hearts

'Pagbibigyan na lang silang magkandarapa na manligaw sa 'yo

Idadaan na lang kita sa awitin kong ito

Sabay ang tugtog ng gitara

Oh-oh-oh-oh, idadaan na lang"

As the song drew to a close, the room was filled with a charged silence. You could see the vulnerability in Hanni's eyes, too scared and shy to do anything, you stood up following your friends out the classroom. Giving her one more glance and a soft smile before leaving.

"Wow. I was just about to say that you could confess to her in this event the school is holding next week but uhh that could work too? Wait—did it work? I think it didn't" Minji's voice rang beside her.

Hanni sighed, looking down at her guitar. "I don't know, Minji. I couldn't even see her reaction properly. What if she didn't understand what I was trying to say?"

"Well, don't worry, you can do it again! Look here." She placed her phone right in front of Hanni's face, the other girl flinched before glaring at her and taking the phone from her hand.

"Oh, Christmas event?" Hanni asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Yup! It's a new one, you know how they always don't make events like this, it could be a chance to confess properly!" Minji said excitedly.

"Now before you refuse. You couldn't actually. You're one of the people that will perform on stage."

"What? Me?!"

"Yea, Ma'am Santiago already chose you, she said you couldn't back out since you've got the best voice in the class and everyone loves your performances."

Hanni groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I can't believe this. I'm not ready for this kind of pressure, Minji."

Minji laughed, patting Hanni's shoulder. "Relax, Hanni. You've performed plenty of times before, and you've always nailed it. Besides, this is your chance to make your confession extra special. Imagine singing a beautiful song and then telling Y/n how you feel in front of everyone. It's like something out of a movie!"

Hanni sighed, her anxiety mixing with a hint of excitement. "I don't know, Minji. What if I mess up? What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

Minji shook her head, her expression serious. "You won't mess up, Hanni. And even if things don't go exactly as planned, at least you'll know you tried. That's better than never knowing at all."

Taking a deep breath, Hanni nodded. "You're right. I'll do it. I'll make sure my performance is perfect, and I'll use this chance to finally tell Y/n how I feel."

Minji beamed, giving Hanni an encouraging hug. "That's the spirit! Let's start planning your performance and make it unforgettable."

Two figures joined them on the floor, the familiar faces of their friends—Yujin and Minjeong munching on snacks as they settled down beside Hanni and Minji.

"What's up with the serious faces?" Yujin asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Minji grinned, gesturing towards Hanni. "Our dear Hanni here is planning a grand confession at the Christmas event."

Minjeong's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That sounds exciting! Who's the lucky person?"

Hanni sighed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "It's Y/n."

Yujin and Minjeong exchanged knowing looks, both of them nodding in approval. "Good choice," Yujin said with a smile. "Y/n's a great person. But are you ready for this, Hanni?"

Hanni took a deep breath, her determination growing stronger. "I think so. I want to give it my best shot."

Minjeong patted Hanni's back encouragingly. "Don't worry, we're here to support you. We'll help you practice and make sure everything goes smoothly."

Minji chimed in, "Yeah, and we can even help you come up with the perfect song for your confession. It has to be something really special."

Hanni smiled, feeling grateful for her friends' support. "Thank you, guys. With all of you backing me up, I feel more confident."

As they continued to discuss and plan, the anticipation for the upcoming Christmas event grew. Hanni knew that this was her chance to finally express her feelings to you, and with her friends by her side, she felt ready to take that leap.

--

It was nice to say that Hanni was shaking, today is the day she's going to confess to you. Well more of a confession via singing a song not exactly like the typical words "Hey, I like you for a long time now, please go out with me?" No, Hanni wasn't a straightforward person; she preferred to do things her own way—through music.

She stood backstage, clutching her guitar, feeling her heart race. The Christmas event was in full swing, and the festive atmosphere did little to calm her nerves. Minji, Yujin, and Minjeong had been by her side all day, offering encouragement and support.

"Remember, Hanni, just breathe and let your music do the talking," Minji said, giving her a reassuring pat on the back.

"You've got this," Yujin added, her smile warm and confident.

Hanni nodded, taking deep breaths to steady herself. The sound of the crowd cheering as the previous act finished echoed through the hall. It was almost her turn.

As Hanni stepped onto the stage, the bright lights momentarily blinded her, but she quickly adjusted. She took a seat on the stool, her guitar resting on her lap, and glanced out at the crowd. Her eyes quickly found you, sitting near the front with your friends, looking up at her with a curious expression.

You didn't expect to see Hanni up on stage with her guitar. No one had mentioned that one of your classmates would be performing. As the spotlight illuminated her, you felt a jolt of surprise and curiosity. What was she going to play?

Hanni took a deep breath, visibly nervous, but as she began to strum her guitar, a familiar tune filled the room. Her voice, soft and melodic, resonated through the hall, and you recognized the song immediately. It's your favorite song—one that tugged at your heartstrings with every note. Sa'yo by Silent Sanctuary.

"Minsan, oo, minsan, hindi

Minsan, tama, minsan, mali

Umaabante, umaatras

Kilos mong namimintas"

As she sang, her eyes remained locked on you. The connection was palpable, and the lyrics seemed to be a heartfelt confession.

"Kung tunay nga ang pag-ibig mo

Kaya mo bang isigaw?

Iparating sa mundo"

You felt your heart racing. Was she singing this just for you?

"Tumingin sa 'king mata

Magtapat ng nadarama

'Di gustong ika'y mawala

Dahil handa akong ibigin ka

Kung maging tayo

Sa'yo lang ang puso ko"

As Hanni's voice filled everyone's ears, the sincerity and depth of her performance were undeniable. The music carried her emotions, and you couldn't help but be drawn in.

"Walang ibang tatanggapin

Ikaw at ikaw pa rin

May gulo ba sa 'yong isipan?

'Di tugma sa nararamdaman"

Each verse seemed to echo her unspoken feelings, revealing a side of Hanni you had never seen before.

"Kung tunay nga ang pag-ibig mo"

You watched, captivated, as Hanni poured her heart out through the song.

"Tumingin sa 'king mata

Magtapat ng nadarama

'Di gustong ika'y mawala

Dahil handa akong ibigin ka

Kung maging tayo"

The next part is where everyone sings their heart out, the part where your heart almost jumps out your chest.

"Kailangan ba kitang iwasan?

Sa t'wing lalapit, may paalam

Iba'ng anyo sa karamihan

Iba rin 'pag tayo

Iba rin 'pag tayo lang, ahh"

The drums kick in, and Hanni's voice picks up, transforming the slow, beautiful melody into something more intense and emotional.

"Tumingin sa 'king mata

Magtapat ng nadarama

'Di gustong ika'y mawala

Dahil handa akong ibigin ka

Kung maging tayo (kung maging tayo)

Kung maging tayo (kung maging tayo)

Kung maging tayo

Sa 'yo na ang puso ko"

As the song reached its powerful conclusion, you felt a rush of emotions that left you breathless. The entire room seemed to vibrate with the intensity of Hanni's performance. The music had bridged the gap between your hearts, and you knew in that moment that her feelings were genuine and deep.

Minji appeared beside you, a wide grin on her face. "Hi! Come with me." She didn't even let you respond before grabbing your hand and dragging you up onto the stage.

"Hey-what?" you exclaimed, bewildered as you found yourself standing next to Hanni, who looked equally surprised.

Minji gave you a playful push towards Hanni. "Well, since you two clearly have some feelings to sort out, I thought you might appreciate a little nudge," she said with a wink.

It feels awkward with everyone's intense and confuse stares directed at you two.

"Minji, this wasn't part of the plan!" Hanni whispered-yelled, her cheeks burning bright red.

Minji just grinned, completely unfazed by the attention. "Relax, Hanni. Sometimes plans change, and this is one of those moments," she said, giving Hanni a reassuring pat on the back.

You couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed too, but seeing Hanni's flushed face made you want to ease her nerves. "It's okay, Hanni," you said softly, squeezing her hand gently. "So what's going on?"

You glanced at Hanni, whose cheeks were flushed with a mix of nerves and excitement. She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto yours. "Y/n, I... I just wanted to say that the song I sang was for you. Everything I felt, everything I wanted to express, was in those lyrics."

"It uhm, means that I uh... Like you for a very long time, I know I wasn't subtle, those times we were singing at the back, those love songs was meant for you, I don't know if you've felt it.

Your heart swelled with emotion, "Hanni, I felt it. Your music spoke to me in a way words never could. Trust me, I wanted to talk to you about that but you did it first. And I want you to know that I feel the same way."

The crowd around you erupted in cheers and applause, but in that moment, all you could focus on was Hanni. She smiled, her eyes shimmering with happiness.

"Really? You do?" Hanni asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Of course, that song is my favorite," you continued, your smile growing wider. "And hearing you sing it made it even more special. It felt like you were speaking directly to my heart."

Hanni's face lit up with happiness, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "I'm so glad you felt that way, Y/n. I put all my feelings into that song, hoping you would understand."

You nodded, feeling a sense of warmth and connection. "I did, Hanni. And I want you to know that I'm grateful you had the courage to share it with me. Your music really speaks volumes."

You cupped her cheeks gently, staring into her eyes. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of pure connection. Hanni's eyes, filled with hope and emotion, looked back at you with a depth that took your breath away.

"Hanni," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I've never felt this way before. Thank you for sharing your heart with me."

Hanni's lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. "I'm so glad you feel the same way, Y/n. This means everything to me."

You leaned in closer, your foreheads touching, both of you basking in the warmth of the moment. The festive lights of the event cast a gentle glow around you, making the scene feel even more magical.

With a tender smile, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a soft, heartfelt kiss. The world seemed to stand still as you both shared this intimate moment, the culmination of all the emotions and unspoken words that had brought you to this point.

The crowd around you erupted in cheers and applause, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between you and Hanni. The kiss was a promise of the beautiful love story that was just beginning, a story that would be remembered long after the music had faded.

This moment became the happiest day of your entire life.

[penkura]

Special Gift

Summary: Zoro watches your kids while you're out for the day, making sure they don't sneak any peeks at their Christmas gifts under the tree.

Note: So this uses the kids from my OP Men as Dads series, but before the twins are born. Hope you guys enjoy! I'M SORRY IT'S SO LATE, I GOT SO BUSY TODAY.

“I just need you to watch them for a bit while I’m at the doctor, I’ll bring some dinner!”

Your request made Zoro sigh at the time, though he was joking around when he said ‘I guess’ with a roll of his eyes that made you laugh before kissing him. You’ve been together long enough that you know he’s kidding around, he doesn’t mind watching your kids, they’re always good for him and the day usually ends with all three of them taking a nap together. It’s also something you love coming home to, it gives you some quiet to work on a few things if you need to, especially now being pregnant and having to get your house ready for the newest member of your family.

Still though, watching your kids for a few hours is no problem for Zoro. If they need anything they go to him, they’ll convince him to play a game with them or read a children’s book to them, anything to spend any time with their dad. At six and four, Keitaro and Kuina are both bright and active, eagerly awaiting Christmas and the moment they get to open their gifts. You rarely have worry about them acting up bad enough to suggest calling Santa and telling him not to come by, the two are that well behaved for you.

No one believed that was possible with Zoro as their father, but you knew better when you first saw him with your son after he was born. More so when Kuina was born, she had him wrapped around her finger instantly and nothing she does could ever make Zoro upset with her. Keitaro is the same, he doesn’t ever want to get in trouble, he heard you yell once when someone cut you off in traffic and it was enough for him to not want to hear it again. Not like you’d ever yell at him or his sister, you spoil and dote on them too much anyway.

While you’re gone Zoro does what he can to take somethings off your plate, getting you’re kids involved with the laundry or sweeping floors, while he tries to knock out the dishes for you (Sanji never believes you when you tell him this is a common thing in your house). Eventually, he hears the sound of something being shaken from your living room, before little voices start talking and he has to keep himself from laughing too loud.

“Umm…I think it’s a puzzle?”

“A puzzle!”

“It’s yours, Kuina!”

She nearly squeals at the mention of it being her gift, Zoro walks in just in time to see her grab one and start shaking it, trying to figure out what it is by sound alone too. He’s sure they won’t start trying to open anything early, you trust them enough to leave the gifts out a few days before Christmas, but he’s going to watch then just to be safe. If anything they’ll just shake a gift that isn’t theirs and hopefully not break anything. They probably won’t even find the gifts you made to announce your pregnancy or just think it’s a random toy.

He still can’t believe there’s going to be a third one this time next year, even after you planned it all.

“Hey now,” they both almost jump hearing Zoro speak up, him smirking a bit since they were starting to get a little too close to looking in gift bags, “Don’t be peeking, you won’t have any surprises.”

“Daddy!”

Keitaro pouts a little but moves back to sitting on the floor while Kuina gets up and runs to Zoro, having him lift her up to his shoulders. Once she’s there and giggling, Zoro crouches down by Keitaro and ruffle this hair, making him whine.

“Looking for something?”

“No…”

“Mommy said there’s a special gift for us!”

“Kuina!”

She’s confused why Keitaro didn’t want her to say anything, but it just makes Zoro laugh a bit. You’re not giving them any more information than that, they’ll have to wait, but he can’t blame them for being curious. It’s only a couple more days until they learn what it is, he’s sure they’ll keep trying to sneak in and take a peek at their gifts until they figure it out themselves.

“Come on, leave the gifts alone for now, okay?” Zoro pats Keitaro’s head again before standing up and nodding to the kitchen, “Mom will be back soon, let’s get something to eat.”

They both complain a little, since they’re so curious about whatever this special gift is, but they still agree and go to the kitchen with Zoro.

A couple more days before things change, Zoro will enjoy these moments of having just two kids, before it turns to three and things get even more hectic than they already are. He’s looking forward to it though, he’s rather have a busy life than a boring one anyway.