#for someone who things largely in stories and words i cannot come up with the right ones right now

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

[norrizzandpia]

I absolutely love your writing, I am obsessedd! Could you do a story where yn is in a car crash (or something along those lines), and then a scared Lando? And I would love you even more if yn doesn't immediately wake up or immediately is ok

Kissess

Is it mentally ill for me to love this trope?

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead (LN4)

Summary: Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Warnings: detailed depictions of a car crash, mentions of death, lots of angst, happy ending

Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK AND READY TO WRITE OVER THE SUMMER

There was a distant memory of Lando going ninety in a forty-five as Y/n drove his McLaren to work. Her hands on the wheel and mind elsewhere, she giggled to herself when the image of him pouting at a ticket and its astronomical price sat in the forefront of her mind.

“Could you, for one second, respond to what I’m saying?” The voice of her boss rang through the car’s speakers.

Y/n rolled her eyes. She hated this woman. “I am responding to you. I just have nothing more to say.”

The woman coughed on the other side of the phone, phlegm prominent in the sound, “What you need to generally understand here is that we, as a company and a branch, cannot have you dating someone with such a high profile. Especially when he continually goes against vehicle regulations and laws. We are a law firm, Y/n. One that helps clients who have been involved in car accidents. Lando Norris, Formula One Driver and known speeder, dating someone who handles cases such as ours.”

Y/n nodded to herself, “I get that, Ann. But, I don’t know what you want me to do? You can’t fire me due to my personal relationships and you can’t demand me to separate from him. This is an empty issue, which you have brought to my attention without a concise and cohesive solution. When you can figure out a way for me to continue to date my partner and keep my job as it is without this supposed issue, come to me. But, for right now, it sounds as though this is empty complaining.”

Ann scoffed, “Between me and you, Y/n, it would be in your best interest to part ways with Lando Norris.”

Speechless and shocked, Y/n’s eyes averted to the screen with Ann’s name and number presented. She couldn’t believe the suggestion, much less the blatant disregard for professionalism. With the massive distraction, she failed to see the aggressive driver approaching her right in the rear view mirror.

A sentence she began to speak fell short when the car attempted to move into her lane, one that had no more space to accommodate his large truck. He hit her front bumper with such force she spun out into oncoming traffic. With the rush hour and the lack of free area to miss an out of control car, the McLaren was smashed to pieces after being hit at every angle and every speed.

The shredded mound of parts smacked the shoulder of the road, ending its violent rampage. Ann stayed quiet on the other side of the call, having heard Y/n’s screams and the dwindling of them as crunching metal continued on.

“Y/n?” She whispered into the speaker, but there was no answer.

—

“Oscar! That’s not the way you do it!” Lando screeched, looking at the phone screen and the comments popping up in outrage over the way Oscar was trying to mold his car.

The Australian just scrunched his nose at Lando, “I do things the way I want to!”

Raging laughter from Lando met the ears of everyone watching the stream just as Oscar’s clay car fell apart moments after he uttered his rebuttal.

His pale hands came up in defense, “How was I supposed to know?!”

Lando just continued laughing, “‘I do things the way I want to!’ Dumbass.”

Oscar scoffed and the words formed on his lips just as the door burst open. Adam stood at the threshold, eyes red and phone clutched to his ear as he stared at his son.

“Lando.” He said, his voice breaking.

Maybe it was the tone or the fact the syllables couldn’t quite leave his mouth because of the sobs emitting from him. Lando thought it had to have been the look on his father’s face, the pain etched into his eyes and his soul, that told me what he needed to know.

HIs face dropped, remnants of laughter completely destroyed by the suggestion of Adam’s sorrow. Lando grabbed the jacket off the back of his chair and in a haze, he muttered, “Is she dead?”

Part of him wished Adam would’ve given him a definite answer. Part of him thought the answer yes would’ve been better than the I don’t know he was given.

I don’t know meant Y/n was almost there. I don’t know meant Y/n was fighting for her life and what everyone knew her to be. He hated the idea she was fighting for the existence of her memory and the achievements he knew she was bound to make in the future.

When they left the room, running to the car outside and waiting for them, Lando hated the idea that Y/n was fighting for the future they had always wished to share together. Marriage, kids, settling down, and going gray with her was almost completely out of his reach and that dread prompted the vomit that spewed from his mouth into his backpack as they rode to the hospital.

—

Lando’s phone blew up so much, he had to shut it off, so the silence he was forced to endure in the chair of the hospital’s waiting room was brought about unwillingly.

At that point, his nails had been bitten so far down, he was bleeding. Blood only spurred the picture of Y/n dosed in it as she was lifted from his wrecked car.

The insurance company and McLaren had both agreed it was very clearly not Y/n’s fault and they would cover the cost of his beloved, customized McLaren.

Beloved.

He thought it had been funny when one of the McLaren engineers had said that to him, promising his “beloved” car back to its original state. Funny because “beloved” didn’t describe how he felt about that car. He loved that car. It was everything to him. He remembered getting the car, feeling as though his life had changed completely for the better with the presence of this beauty in his life. He cherished it, he took care of it, that car would always hold a piece of his heart.

Then he realized that the sentimental thoughts he was having surrounding the car was just an allegory for Y/n.

He loved Y/n. She was everything to him. He remembered meeting her, feeling as though his life had changed completely for the better with the presence of her beauty in his life. He cherished her, he took care of her, she would always hold a piece of his heart.

Losing her was not an option. It never would be.

Please, to anyone out there, do not take her from me, he pleaded out to the emptiness of the universe. An empty universe that was trying to take his happiness from him. A cruel universe that was trying to strip the world of her impact.

Please was the only word on his mind when the doctor appeared from behind the swinging doors that led to the operation rooms. A tired look on his face was warranted for the hours of work he had just put into trying to save Y/n’s life.

He stopped in front of Adam and Lando, his tall frame making them stand up. On wobbling legs, Lando began to cry.

”Please tell me she’s going to be okay. You have no idea who she is, what she has done. Please, Y/n has gone and could continue to go so far. This cannot be it for her. She has so much left to do. Please, tell me-”

“Lando,” The doctor interrupted, his hand on his shoulder as a comfort, “Her injuries were extensive, but she pulled through. The recovery will be long and painful, but there’s no permanent damage. She’s incredibly lucky and one of the strongest people I have ever helped.”

A loud sigh of relief left Lando’s mouth, his body slinking down into the chair behind him. He held his head in his hands, his fingers clasped together as he said a silent prayer to a God he thought he didn’t believe in.

Thank you, he gave over and over in his mind.

—

“Do you think I could see her now?” Lando caught up with the doctor’s steps as he seemed to be rushing to another room.

The man stopped, turned to Lando, and then cocked his head. He stared at him for a moment with the wheels turning in his head.

A curt nod and smile had Lando rushing off to the room number he had made the nurse repeat back to him so many times just so he could memorize it for when the time was right.

Now was his time.

Pulling open the door, he stopped himself. He prepared himself for the battered and bruised Y/n he was bound to see. Lando’s mind flooded with vivid videos of her laughing, sleeping on his chest, looking at him like he had single-handedly given her the world and more. He wanted to remind himself of that Y/n, not the one he was about to see. She would always be the same to him and he knew she would come back to him, but, for the time being, he knew he would have to rely on the memories of her where she was truly electrictrified with life.

He finally stepped through and the sight of her in whatever comatose state they had put her in made his teary eyes leak.

His body fell into the chair by her bed, his hand coming to clutch hers. Her skin was cold when he brought it to his cheek, but the red tint to her cheeks was still there.

Her lungs falling up and down grabbed his attention, “Baby,” He breathed, “I love you.”

Silence responded and he continued, “When you wake up, I promise you I will not continue to make the cowardly decision of chickening out of asking you to marry me. I know you know I have the ring. That night when I came home to you elbow deep in my sock drawer was a dead giveaway. I know you know it’s taking me so long to gain the courage and I thank you for being patient, but I cannot go another waking moment with the idea floating around in my head that there is a possibility you will never share my last name. I need you to be a Norris if it is the last thing I do.”

Her body stayed in its place and her hand stayed still in his clutch, but he knew she was in there. She needed her rest, just as the nurses had explained to him and he agreed. The bruises on her face, the casts surrounding her body, he didn’t want her to wake up to this.

—

And she wouldn’t have to. When she woke up weeks later, the bruises had healed, the cuts had become skin once more, and the casts had dwindled down to one. Lando was there too when her eyes squinted open and she groaned out. Groggy and confused, Y/n’s face turned to Lando’s. The two met each other’s eyes and the rest was expected. The rushed words of gratitude, love, and adoration accompanied by Lando’s repeated statements for her to marry her were all seemingly written in the stars. Cliche, maybe, but the way they held each other in the soft sunlight of her hospital room, the now fiancées happened upon the thought that whatever was meant to happen was going to happen.

And they were meant to happen.

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 28: Games

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...

AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse

It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms. 

Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics. 

“People think I’m insane,  because I’m frowning all the time…  I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness,  I must be blind.”

“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy. 

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him. 

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume.   Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song. 

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well. 

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk. 

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh. 

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them. 

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house. 

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around. 

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic. 

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room. 

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach. 

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy. 

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable. 

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly. 

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially. 

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain. 

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face. 

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow. 

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. 

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room. 

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan. 

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years. 

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago. 

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it. 

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it. 

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly. 

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile. 

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves. 

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately. 

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking. 

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance. 

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door. 

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed. 

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans. 

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind. 

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow. 

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes. 

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters. 

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism. 

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder. 

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too. 

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her. 

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you. 

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly. 

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs. 

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll. 

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out. 

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car. 

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. 

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return. 

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word. 

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth. 

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes. 

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk. 

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb. 

It turns out that you ARE that bad. 

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores. 

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. 

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group. 

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game. 

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging. 

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other. 

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak. 

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him. 

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe. 

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. 

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling. 

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game. 

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words. 

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question. 

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on. 

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath. 

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission. 

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga. 

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game. 

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

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[herstoryheaven]

Descendants James Hook x Reader: The Kiss That Set Us Free

Request: Hiiii! Can I maybe request a James Hook X female reader where some princess gives James a love potion? Reader has to save the day with true loves kiss ofc (definitely not stealing the plot of descendants 2)

Reader: Female

Word count: 3168

Average reading time: 11 min 30 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Merlin Academy was a place where the children of royals and villains alike attended, a melting point of clashing destinies and unbreakable friendships. Among its students was Y/N, a poor girl who had earned her place through a scholarship. Though she had no fancy title, she carried herself with a quiet strength that intrigued many, including James Hook.

James Hook was known for his mysterious charm and flirtatious nature. He had taken a particular interest in Y/N, often observing her and finding excuses to be near her. Despite her initial confusion as to why someone like James would pay her any attention, Y/N couldn't deny the flutter in her heart whenever he was around.

Just like today, Y/N took place under a large oak tree, absorbed in her studies. She was so focused on her book that she didn't notice James approaching until his shadow fell over her pages.

"Fancy finding you here, lass." James said, a playful hint in his voice.

Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his familiar smirk. "James! You startled me."

"Apologies." he said, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he wasn't entirely sincere. "What are you studying so intensely?"

"Just some history." Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "We have a test coming up."

James leaned against the tree, his gaze never leaving her face. "Always so dedicated. It's one of the things I admire about you."

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "I just... want to do well. Prove that I belong here."

James tilted his head, his expression softening. "You more than belong here, lass. You're one of the brightest students at Merlin Academy. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise."

She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her book. "It's just... sometimes it feels like I don't fit in. Everyone here has a legacy, a name. I'm just... Y/N."

James crouched down beside her, his fingers gently lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze. "You're not 'just' anything, darling. You're remarkable. Titles and legacies are overrated, anyway."

Y/N's breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. "You really think so?"

"I know so." James said firmly. "And if anyone gives you trouble, they'll have to answer to me."

She couldn't help but smile at his protectiveness. "You don't have to do that, James. I can take care of myself."

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I have no doubt about that. But I like taking care of you."

Y/N's blush deepened, and she looked away, trying to compose herself. "Why are you so nice to me?"

James's expression grew serious. "Because you deserve it. And because, Y/n, you intrigue me. You're not afraid of me, or my reputation. You see me beyond the hook."

"I don't understand why you'd pay attention to someone like me." Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

James moved closer, his fingers brushing against hers. "Maybe it's because I see something in you that you don't see in yourself. Maybe it's because you're different from anyone else here. Or maybe, lass, it's because I can't help but be drawn to you."

Her heart raced as she met his gaze again, the sincerity in his eyes making her feel both vulnerable and cherished. "James, I..."

Before she could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just know, darling, that you have my attention. Always."

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, her heart fluttering wildly. She had never felt this way before, and it both excited and terrified her. But as she looked into James's eyes, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to understand why he paid attention to her. Maybe it was enough to know that he did.

-----

Over the next few weeks, James continued to find reasons to be near Y/N, their interactions filled with teasing banter and stolen glances. Despite her initial confusion and insecurities, Y/N found herself growing more comfortable around him, her feelings for him deepening with each passing day.

As Y/N was in the library, her nose buried in yet another book, this time about magical creatures. James sauntered in, his eyes immediately finding her at a corner table. With a mischievous grin, he approached her quietly, leaning over her shoulder.

"Finding anything interesting, lass?" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Y/N jumped, her heart racing. "James! You promised to stop scaring me."

He chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her. "Stop scaring you, but darling that’s my specialty. And I simply can't resist seeing that cute little jump of yours."

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her blush. "What do you want, James?"

"Just checking on my favorite student." he said, resting his chin on his hand as he gazed at her. "What are you reading?"

"It's about magical creatures." she replied, closing the book slightly to show him the cover. "I have an assignment on them."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. "Fascinating. Which one's your favorite so far?"

She glanced at him, her pulse quickening at their proximity. "I like the phoenix. It's a symbol of rebirth and resilience."

"Like you." he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "Me?"

James nodded. "You're strong, Y/n. Stronger than you realize. And you're constantly rising above everything thrown your way."

She looked down, biting her lip to hide her smile. "Thank you, James. That means a lot coming from you."

He reached out, gently lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze again. "I mean every word."

-----

Another day, Y/N was walking to class when she felt a hand slip into hers. She turned to see James, his usual smirk playing on his lips.

"Thought I'd escort you to class." he said casually.

"You don't have to do that." she replied, though she didn't pull her hand away.

"I want to." he insisted, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Besides, I enjoy your company."

As they walked, James began to whistle a familiar tune. Y/N laughed softly. "Is that 'A Pirate's Life for Me'?"

He grinned. "A classic, don't you think?"

She shook her head, amused. "Only you, James."

"Well, I am a pirate's son, after all," he said with a wink. "It runs in the blood."

They reached her classroom, and he reluctantly let go of her hand. "I'll see you later, darling."

"See you, James." she replied, her heart fluttering as she watched him walk away.

-----

One evening, Y/N was sitting by the enchanted lake, enjoying the peace and quiet when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see James approaching, carrying a small picnic basket.

"Mind some company?" he asked, settling down beside her without waiting for an answer.

"What's in the basket?" she inquired, curious.

"Thought we'd have a little picnic." he said, opening it to reveal an assortment of fruits, cheese, and pastries. "I figured you'd like it."

Her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness. "This is really sweet, James."

He shrugged, though she could see the pleased look in his eyes. "I aim to please."

They sat together, sharing the food and talking about their classes and dreams. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, James turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.

"You know, lass, I enjoy these moments with you more than anything else at this academy."

Y/N felt her breath hitch. "Really?"

"Really." he said, his voice soft. "There's something about you, Y/N. You make everything... better."

She blushed, looking down at their entwined fingers. "You do the same for me, James."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear. "Good to know, darling. Because I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon."

Her heart soared at his words, the fluttering in her chest intensifying. Though she still didn't understand why James Hook would be interested in a poor scholarship student like her, she couldn't deny the happiness it brought her. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she belonged. And as long as James was by her side, she knew she could face anything that came her way.

-----

Sadly, that wonderful feeling for Y/N didn’t last very long as her suspicions were confirmed that James was, in fact, not interested in her at all. As today, the atmosphere at Merlin Academy was disrupted when princess Aurora approached Bridget for one of her famous pink flamingo cupcakes. Bridget, ever the sweetheart, happily obliged, unaware of Aurora's true intentions. Aurora had a love potion, and she discreetly applied it to the cupcake before offering it to James.

James was lounging near the fountain, chatting with some of his fellow students when Aurora walked over, a charming smile on her lips. "James, my love." she cooed, holding out the cupcake. "I thought you might like a treat."

James raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "What's the occasion, Aurora?"

"No occasion." Aurora replied, batting her eyelashes. "Just thought you'd enjoy it."

He hesitated for a moment before taking the cupcake, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Well, I never say no to sweets." he said with a grin, taking a bite. As he chewed, a strange, dazed look came over his face.

Y/N, who had been sitting nearby, noticed the interaction and felt a feeling of unease wash over her. She watched as James's usual playful banter with her ceased abruptly. He turned to Aurora, his eyes filled with an intense, almost unnatural adoration.

"Aurora." he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "You look... stunning today."

Aurora giggled, pleased with the immediate effect of the potion. "Thank you, James. You're so sweet."

Y/N's heart sank as she witnessed James showering Aurora with compliments and attention. It was as if she no longer existed in his world. The playful glances, the teasing comments, the stolen moments, they all vanished in an instant.

James walked over to where Y/N sat, but instead of his usual greeting, he barely acknowledged her. "Hey, Y/N." he said curtly, his eyes never leaving Aurora.

"Hi, James." Y/N replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "Are you okay?"

"Never better." he said, smiling dreamily at Aurora. "I just realized how incredible Aurora is."

Y/N's heart broke at his words. She tried to keep her composure, but the pain was evident in her eyes. "I see."

Aurora, noticing Y/N's discomfort, smirked triumphantly. "James, why don't we go for a walk? I'd love to spend more time with you."

"Of course." he said eagerly, offering his arm. "Anything for you, princess."

As they walked away together, Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek. Bridget and Ella, who had been watching from a distance, quickly came over to comfort her.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Ella asked, concern etched on her face.

"No, I'm not." Y/N admitted, wiping away her tears. "I thought... I thought James liked me. But I guess I was wrong."

Bridget hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. We didn't know Aurora would do something like this."

"It's not your fault." Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I just have to accept that someone like James could never be interested in someone like me."

Ella shook her head fiercely. "That's not true, Y/N. You're amazing, and if James can't see that, then he's the one who's missing out."

"Yeah." Bridget agreed. "We'll figure this out. Maybe there's something more to this."

Y/N nodded, though her heart still ached. She couldn't deny the happiness James had brought her, but now, seeing him with Aurora, she felt like an outsider once more. Just like back then Y/n questioned her place at Merlin Academy. 

-----

Noticing Y/N's sudden withdrawal, Bridget and Ella grew increasingly concerned. They watched as she became quieter than ever, only showing up when absolutely necessary for classes. Her usual warmth and laughter were replaced with a haunting silence.

As Bridget and Ella found her sitting alone by the edge of the forest, staring blankly at the ground.

"Y/N, we need to talk." Bridget said softly, sitting down beside her.

Ella nodded, sitting on her other side. "You've been so distant lately. We're worried about you."

Y/N sighed, trying to hold back tears. "It's just... James. Seeing him with Aurora, it hurts more than I thought it would."

Bridget placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We know, Y/N. But there's something strange about all this. James wasn't acting like himself."

Ella leaned in, her eyes filled with determination. "We think Aurora did something to him. We have to find out what."

Meanwhile, Uliana, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent were observing James's strange behavior. They gathered in a secluded corner of the academy grounds to discuss their suspicions.

"Something's definitely off with James." Uliana said, her eyes narrowing. "He's not acting like himself at all."

Hades crossed his arms, his expression serious. "Aurora must have used a spell on him. It's the only explanation."

Morgie nodded in agreement. "We need to do something about this. James may be a flirt, but he wouldn't abandon us like this."

Maleficent, her eyes glinting with a hint of malice, spoke up. "There's one way to break a love spell. True love's kiss."

Uliana smirked, her gaze turning towards Y/N. "And I think we know just the person who can help."

The group of villains approached Y/N, Bridget, and Ella, their presence causing a tense silence to fall over the group.

"Y/N." Uliana began, her tone surprisingly gentle. "We believe James has been spelled by Aurora. We need your help to break it."

Y/N looked up, confusion and hope mingling in her eyes. "Me? How can I help?"

"True love's kiss." Morgie explained, a sly smile on his lips. "It’s the only way to break the spell."

Y/N's heart raced. "But... why me? Why would James love me?"

Maleficent stepped forward, her gaze piercing. "You’re underestimating yourself. James has always had a soft spot for you. If anyone can break this spell, it's you."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing with doubt and fear. "But what if it doesn't work? What if he doesn't really love me?"

Hades sighed, his fiery hair flickering with frustration. "We won't know until you try. Do you want to save him or not?"

Bridget and Ella squeezed Y/N’s hands reassuringly. "You can do this, Y/N. We believe in you."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. "Alright. I’ll try it."

-----

As the night fell, Y/N approached James, with slight fear, her heart pounding in her chest. The intensity of his gaze, now directed only at Aurora, was disheartening. She braced herself, reaching up to cup his face, and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

To her shock, the spell broke instantly. James blinked, his eyes clearing as the enchantment faded. Bridget and Ella squealed in delight, while Uliana, Maleficent, Morgie, and Hades smirked knowingly.

James, now fully back to his senses, wasted no time. He pulled Y/N firmly against him, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. He kissed her again, deeper and more passionately, as if to make up for lost time. When he pulled back, his eyes held nothing but sincerity.

"Be mine, darling." he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Y/N's heart raced, her cheeks flushing at his intense gaze. "James... I..."

Before she could finish, Aurora's furious voice cut through the moment. "How could you choose her, a peasant, over me, a princess?" she spat, her eyes blazing with anger.

James didn't falter. Instead, he pulled Y/N even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Stay still, love."

He then stood behind her, his arms securely around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her neck. Y/N shivered at the sensation, her body leaning back against him. James kept his eyes locked on Aurora, a challenging smirk playing on his lips.

"Tell me Aurora, why would I want a princess who spells me." he said, his voice low and dangerous, "when I have my own princess who would let the world burn for me?"

Aurora's face twisted with rage. "You fool! You don't know what you're throwing away!"

Before James could respond, Maleficent stepped forward, her aura radiating power and intimidation. "Watch your tongue, Aurora. Or I’ll put you to sleep for eternity." she threatened, her voice cold.

James's smirk widened as he felt Y/N relax slightly in his arms. "Aurora." he continued, his tone mocking, "A princess who uses spells to get what she wants is no match for a girl with a heart as pure and strong as Y/n's."

Aurora's eyes darted around, looking for support, but found none. The others stood firm, their expressions resolute. Even Hades, with his usual nonchalance, had a hint of protective fire in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold.

James turned his attention back to Y/N, his expression softening. "Lass, you're my princess, with or without a crown."

Y/N's heart swelled at his words, tears of happiness welling up in her eyes. She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "James, I... I don't have a title or riches. I'm just me."

James cupped her face in his hands, his eyes filled with adoration. "You don't need titles or riches to be special, Y/N. You're everything I want. And if it's a name you're worried about, how about becoming Y/N Hook? Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? My pirate princess."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. "You mean that?"

"Every word." James replied, his voice unwavering. "I love you, Y/N. I want you by my side, always."

As they stood together, surrounded by their friends, Y/N realized that love and loyalty mattered far more than any crown ever could. She leaned into James, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

Aurora, seeing that she had lost, turned on her heel and stormed away, her face a mask of fury. Maleficent watched her go, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Well, I suppose the sleeping curse can wait. Pity I didn’t get to use it now." she muttered.

Bridget and Ella rushed forward, enveloping Y/N and James in a big hug. "We knew it!" Bridget exclaimed. "We knew you two were meant to be together!"

Uliana, Morgie, Maleficent and Hades exchanged smirks, their eyes gleaming with approval. "About time." Uliana said, her voice filled with satisfaction.

James pressed another kiss to Y/N's neck, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering devotion.

Y/N turned in his arms, her eyes meeting his. "I love you too, James."

As they kissed again, a cheer went up from their friends, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she truly belonged. With James by her side she knew that this will be her once upon a time.

Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

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Requested by: Anonymous

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Bucky Barnes x Plus!Reader Masterlist

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong. PART 4/? Part 5

An: Hey all, sorry I haven’t updated this baby in months. Gonna try and work on it more from now on. Hopefully it’ll be finished before the end of the year 🤞💜

Word Count: 1,278 (not proofread)

You never found him. After trekking through a path of destruction you realized, you didn’t know where exactly Bruce lives; better yet anywhere besides the lab he considers home. Once large foot prints and fallen trees ceased, so did your trail. You haven’t yet trained on tracking, so someone on foot could allude you indefinitely.

When you made it back to the compound, Friday announced “Stark will see you in his office, Ms. Y/L/N.”. You hadn’t even walked in the door, and already Bruce’s mess was piling up on your lap. As if you had control over a gamma radiated mutant.

Tony had another thing coming If he thinks you’ll pay damages. Your salary consisted of room and board, and a part time paycheck that you sent home to help your parents. Solid wood floors weren’t in your budget.

When you make it to Tony’s office it looks crowded. You can see Natasha, Steve and Bucky all standing around his desk, arms crossed with annoyed looks on their faces. This isn’t good, and it’s all your fault, you should’ve swallowed it, never mentioned it to Bruce.

You knock on the glass door, catching the attention of the the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Their harsh gaze made you wish your X gene was invisibility. “You wanted to see me, Stark?” You pipe up, hoping the faster you get this over with, the easier it will be. You brave your face to the room, not putting your head down in shame. You won’t let this destroy you, you won’t let bullying ruin the workplace confidence you’d grown.

Tony rolls his eyes, “You know why you’re here, don’t play coy kid.”. Without hesitation You immediately start defending yourself, “I want to be the first one to apologize for the gym floor. I cannot excuse Bruce’s actions, they were not justified in any manor. Destruction of property over measly feelings, if not already, should be a fireable offense. I however have done nothing wrong. I played a part in telling Bruce about the situation, but I never could have foresaw this outcome.” Your chest is heaving when you finish. You’ve kept a neutral look on your face the entire time, meanwhile Tony’s face morphed into confusion, suprise, confusion again and then agreeance.

“Wow, the things I miss not living here.” He laughs, like it was some kind of joke. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but I’d love for you to tell me the full story later.” You straighten your shoulders, what had you just done? Not only did you snitch on Bruce and yourself, but your pathetic plea was witnessed by three devils. Why are you here then?

You hadn’t done anything else wrong, you haven’t even been on a mission in forever. “Oh, my apologies then, I don’t know why I’m here.” You admit. Now you were unbearably nervous, you didn’t know what to expect. Tony opened a tab on his touch pad inlaid desk, pulling up the picture of an obviously foreign man. His menacing scowl only meant one thing, Hydra.

“Bruno Müller, age 37, served as a hitman for Hydra, much like yours truly.” He waves over to Bucky, giving him stank face. You nod your head, trying to take mental notes. “He was seen last night, on a yacht off the Florida Keys. Intel is saying, he’s hosting a party this weekend, and I want you to be in attendance.” Your head is spinning, you struggle to find the right words.

“What- I mean why me? You have many more capable agents at your disposal.” You’ve lost that workplace professionalism in place of confidence. You know you shouldn’t speak to your boss this way, but who does he think you are, Captain America?

“I would agree to disagree on that. Do not sell yourself short, your capabilities are more than qualified for this mission. But the truth is, no one knows you. You’re faceless.” You try to not let his last words hurt, but you suppose he’s right. It would be a simple plan, get in and get out, right? “What am I doing?” You ask, trying to fit the other three people into the plan somehow. “I need you to first, immerse yourself into this party, let everyone know you’re there. Talk with the women, flirt with the men, drink but don’t get drunk. If someone on this boat has a suspicion of you, it will take a minute for renforcements to arrive. Meaning, fighting off 30+ angry Hydra all by yourself.” He was blatant.

Your anxiety was starting to pick up. You’re not sure you can do it. The two super soldiers behind you instantly notice the shift in your mood. They see the hair on the back of your neck stand, and they can smell the sheen of sweat covering your body. Steve genuinely feels pity for you.

Tony continues, “Infiltrate his office, access his computer and download all of his files onto this bad boy right here.” He pulls a bracelet out of thin air. He gently unclasps it, revealing a usb drive hidden inside. “The second you plug it in, a virus will download onto his computer, corrupting the files, for any further use, and it will immediately download them, bypassing any need for passwords.”

Once he finished you had nothing to say. Well, you had plenty to say, but you couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself further. “So, why are they here?” You finally ask, daring to make eye contact with Steve. His eyes weren’t as harsh as you expected.

“Every secret agent needs an intel team, and a guy in their ear, these two are your intel team, and Barnes is your new conscious.” Great. Now instead of playing along with him, you’re forced to be in their presence. You let the heroes behind you groan in place. They must’ve already debriefed, they had no witty remarks or protests.

“When do I leave?” You ask, just wanting to get out of the room at this point. You need to let yourself process everything, before you overload and overstimulate. “Tonight.” You give him a curt nod and leave before your team could ask you any questions. There would be plenty of time for that on the flight there.

Your brain is racing. Maybe it’s the combination of everything happening so far today and it’s only 9am. Or it’s the straps on the sports bra absolutely obliterating your shoulders. You’re pacing down to the simulation room, the only place you can go to escape.

You’re manically talking to yourself when you swing the door open. “How the actual fuck does he expect me to do this alone?” You ask no one. Seeing the empty desk chair Bruce left in its exact spot was enough to send you crumbling to your feet. Pressing your back against the door, squeezing your knees as close to your chest as possible. Bruce isn’t even here to console you because you fucked that up too. You bang the back of your head on the door, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”.

You doubt you’d see Bruce before you left, which meant you wouldn’t see him till you returned, which is never promised, better yet scheduled. You needed answers, why did be react like that? Wrapping your head around it was impossible, unbeknownst to you, Bruce sat pressed against his front door, his head in his hands, wondering why he can’t control his anger. Wondering if he’d scared you away forever, you’d never seen him as hulk before, just Bruce. He knew you liked just Bruce, but now there’s no telling.

[obliqueblade]

Hello everyone 💛

As many of you are aware today should have been Technoblades 25th Birthday. His dad asked us for our way of remembering him on this day.

I discovered Techno’s channel back in 2019, and for the experiences I got to have as apart of the community I can never be more thankful for. Techno was and always will be an inspiration.

I’ve talked about this is certain places before, but I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer a few weeks before Techno released his first video about his diagnosis. I was worried, but I was also comforted because while I was undergoing Chemo, surgeries, and drug trials; the person I looked up to the most was undergoing the same thing.

Realistically, I thought Techno would outlive me.

When the news broke, I was devastated, and I largely gave up on trying to get better. I cannot put into words just how badly it affected me, and then a few short weeks later I lost another friend to leukemia.

But, I survived this time too. I realized that when I died, all the memories I got to make as a part of this amazing fan base would disappear- and I didn’t want that.

However, I knew it wouldn’t last forever. For those of you who have seen my tumblr, my health has been steadily declining the past few months.

I don’t want it to come to a surprise when I don’t live through this summer.

I’m not upset by this, in fact, I’m amazed I’ve gotten nearly four years after being diagnosed. I’m grateful to everyone for being apart of my memories.

I’m grateful for this community- for remembering Techno.

I’m grateful to Technodad for making sure his son’s memory is used for good, despite the grief it brings him.

I’ve recommended to my mom and dad his videos and posts about how he’s been getting through his grief, and I hope that when the time comes it can help them as much as it’s helped me.

I’m not saddened to go. I’ve had a good run.

Happy Birthday Alex.

For my Tumblr peeps, don’t worry about the story. I’ve written how each chapter shall go, and while I most likely won’t be the one writing it after this coming chapter it will be in the hands of someone I trust. While the words won’t be mine, I know they’ll follow the way I wanted the story to go.

I’m not sure if it will be me updating again, and when it might be if so.

Thank you guys so much for all your support with this fic. I cannot express how much it means to me that there are people out there who have enjoyed it.

Take care 💛

[asterias-record-shop]

I’m so glad you liked the soulmate idea! maybe prompt 16? maybe she gets injured and has to tear off some of her outfit when she gets a little self conscious cause of the cameras and realizing the man everyone wants is now publicly her soulmate? could you imagine that for yourself omfg </3 read that prompt and saw his smirk vividly in my head and I couldn’t get it out lol :) katniss would be slapping him every two seconds and trying to keep him on track lollllll :D

—𓆩[be jealous]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Soulmate! Finnick Odair x Soulmate! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - If there was one thing that the Capitol wasn’t, it was kind. So when they input the law where soulmates cannot be put into the same game, you and Finnick have to come clean about your relationship in the Quarter Quell - even if it’s too late.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - sorry anon, I had to change it up just a bit! || age difference (3 years) || soulmate AU with the same mark || reader is more naive & weak (physically) || Finnick was your mentor || you don’t think you deserve Finnick for a while, he fixes that || insecure reader || virgin reader || you wanted to keep your soulmate-ship a secret (fails miserably) || oral || 69 || slight penetration || cum eating || fingering || hickeys || creampies || cumslut & pussy drunk terms used

When you were chosen for the games, you thought your fate was sealed. You were going to be brutally murdered, and you would never see the light of day ever again until Finnick became your mentor.

“Look…” he said, inhaling as you both stood in front of the tube that would take you up to the arena. “I know, I know you’re not that strong,” he whispers, thumb slowly stroking your cheek. “But you fucking run, okay? You run, you hide, you just… you need to come out of there alive, okay?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can, Fin, I just-”

“Y/N,” he says firmly, holding your shoulders. “Please. Please come out. For me.”

You inhale deeply as the Peacekeeper yells out ‘five more minutes’, Finnick leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Promise me you’ll try.”

Finnick was one of the most perfect people you could’ve ever asked for, so as soon as you saw that mark on his lower abdomen right on his hip bone that matched yours, you promised yourself you’d never let him see it. Not when you were going to die in the arena and he would lose his soulmate, someone he didn’t deserve.

Finnick deserved the world, and in your mind, that wasn’t you.

He was always telling you about people who had pretended to be his soulmate, getting tattoos of his mark just to try and get with him, though they always missed the small dot on the lower left side, the same one you had. He then always added that he never wanted to meet his soulmate, saying things like he didn’t want to burden them with what he’s been through or he didn’t think it’d work out.

You knew he would never burden his soulmate, especially you, but you didn’t want to start anything when you would most likely die.

He always said how he had this connection to you that he couldn’t explain, his eyes always filled with so much love it made you want to cry. It would’ve been a horrible decision to tell him really, but everything he did made you want to say it.

“One minute!”

“Finnick, I just-”

“I'm going to watch every second, darling,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “And I’m going to be with you every moment.”

You nodded, hands shakily squeezing his wrists that cupped your face before starting to step back. You go around him to step onto the platform, slowly stepping inside as Finnick quickly runs onto the platform, pressing his hand to the glass. He inhaled, nodding. “Y-Y/N, I love-”

With that, almost like it was a farewell, your capsule shot up. You emerged in a large field, wheat around you with the center being the classic cornucopia. The numbers started blaring, signaling the beginning of your inevitable demise.

Even then though, you promised Finnick you would try, so you had to. You would run and hide and swim and do everything you could to survive like you promised him, even though you didn’t expect it to gain your victory.

After winning, you couldn’t have taken more showers. Though not physically covered in blood, you felt disgusting, as though all of those deaths were on your hands. You finally stopped when you felt your nails burning, skin almost raw from how much you rubbed it in an attempt to get off the invisible blood, quickly turning around to turn off the water and step out.

You pat your skin down, too scared to irritate it more before putting on some tiny shorts. You really needed to feel the cold instead of warmth like you did all throughout the games and a thin camisole that didn’t hide your soulmate mark. You looked at it in the mirror, the reddish-brown hue making you hum - it was nice to just look at it for a minute instead of hiding it.

It doesn’t take you long to step out, stretching before you notice Finnick sitting on your bed looking starstrucked. “Finnick!”

“Y/N, what the hell is that?”

At first you didn’t know what he was talking about, looking down at the wide gash you had on your forearm. “Oh, the District 1 Career was trying to get a hit in before-”

He stood up abruptly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly finding its place at your hip. “Is that real?”

You look down, quickly covering the mark. “Y-You… you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You sounded stupid, head hazy as he pressed his finger firmly against it and rubs, gasping when it doesn’t fade or get irritated at his touch. “Did you- why would you keep this from me?”

“Because I thought I was going to die, Finnick,” you inhaled deeply. “I never thought I would see you again. I didn’t want to give you hope-”

“So instead you chose to lie to me and keep the fact that you’re my soulmate and that we could’ve been building a life together? A soulmate bond? How long have you known?” He whispered, leaning down as you looked away.

“Since we started training together.”

He inhaled sharply, letting out a soft whimper as he looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought I was going to die,” you explained, holding back tears. “I thought I was going to die and that you were going to be left with hope and I just-” a strangled sob left your mouth as he pulled you into a hug, his lips pressing to your forehead.

“You don’t worry about anything, darling. I promise, I swear,” he pulled away to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I will never let anything happen to you ever again.”

It had been quiet until you both were pulled into the Third Quarter Quell. You volunteered for Mags much to Finnick’s dismay, especially when you both had gotten to the parade.

“It’s too on show, Finnick,” you whisper, trying to lift up your skirt before he swats at your hand. “Finnick!”

“Who cares anymore, darling?” He whispers, pulling you closer. “Why should we hide it, hm? Let everyone know that they should be jealous. I have the most beautiful woman in the world by my side.”

You blushed madly as he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “If they find out, they won’t pull me from the games because they renounced the law,” you whisper, inhaling shakily. “We’re going to get out of there, right? Together?”

He nodded, pushing back your hair. “I swear to you, Y/N, I promise.” He inhaled deeply as the fanfare started, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “I’ll be right by your side, my love.”

You looked up, nodding as he pushed back your hair, a loud noise making you both look to the side. There Katniss stood, awkward and stick-like as you try to pull away from Finnick on instinct but he just held you tighter. He pulled you away, quickly helping you into the carriage before getting on himself.

“They’re going to have a field day with this,” you say, pulling your skirt a bit lower to expose the mark on your hip. “Might as well give them a show, right?”

He smiled, pulling down his waistband to show off the same mark. “Might as well, darling.”

The news came out sooner than you expected, Finnick pulling you closer to his chest as you sat on his cock. It was peaceful, watching the news a few hours before being dragged into the games. The public was raving about the fact you both were soulmates, and Finnick’s cock that was balls deep inside of you still spurting cum into you as he slowly rolled his hips.

“Want to go again,” he mumbled, his words not a question but a statement. You giggled as he stared at you, eyes hazy and drunk on your cunt. “Please? Can we go again?”

You giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “You just want to fuck because we’re not going to be able to in the games, don’t you?”

He hummed. “Who says we can’t fuck in the games?”

You paused, letting out a soft hum as you started to roll your hips into his. “You’ll just fuck me anywhere, won’t you? Too fucking pussy drunk to think about anything else?”

It was a dangerous game, playing with a more dominant Finnick like this, especially because you were definitely the more submissive person in this relationship. Finnick always felt so fucking good when you acted like this, a sub trying to get more dominant on their dom and tease him, especially when you were on top.

He was going to feed your mind just a bit before he fucked you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.

After processing your words, he nods as he kisses against your shoulder down to the swell of your tits, kissing and licking at your nipple. “Yes, yes darling. I want to fuck you so bad, please, please. I need to feel that pussy clench around me, need to feel your cunt milk my cock baby.”

He watched your eyes roll back, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he teased your nipple with his teeth. He sucks, groaning as you tug on his hair, pulling him closer as his hands hold your waist, forcing you to roll your hips into his and taking pleasure in the whines falling from your lips. “F-Fin, need you to fuck me.”

He pulled away, staring at your hard nipples and swollen areola. He laughs, looking up at you between your tits, eyes glossed over with lust as he pressed his lips to the center of your chest and sucked against your skin. You whined loudly as he leaves bright hickeys ranging from bright pink to dark purple all along your skin; anywhere from your collarbone to your chest to your sides, lifting you off of him to watch your face scrunch in discomfort when his length is pulled out of you.

“No, Finnick, don’t do that!”

It made him laugh; as pussy drunk as he was, you were cock obsessed more than you’d ever admit.

“What? Why not? I need to make room for more of the cum that I’m going to fill you up with.”

He laid you on your bed, pushing his head between your thighs to kiss against your stretched cunt, already pushing his tongue into your pussy to taste the mixed cum flooding into his mouth. He groaned loudly, his hips bucking into the mattress that did little to nothing to relieve him of the need to be inside of you.

He pulled away, face covered in sheen from your lewd juices, the whine that left your lips making him laugh just a bit. He laid back on the bed, humming. “Come here, darling. Want your pussy on my face.”

You nodded, knowing better than to argue with him when he got like this, quickly moving to hover over his mouth. “F-Fin, are you sure, I don’t know if I can-”

“Darling, if you don’t shut up and sit on my face, I won’t fuck you again tonight.” His hand slapping against your ass proved his point even more, a yelp leaving your mouth as you let your body relax and his mouth suck on your leaking cunt. Your eyes rolled back as he groaned, one hand holding the hip with your soulmate mark, his hand tight as the other pushed up your back while pushing you down. The new angle makes you whine loudly, gasping as his cock slaps against your cheek, his leaking tip smearing cum against your skin.

His cock was so pretty in front of you, thick and long, his tip flushed a bright red as cum leaking out, harder than you had ever seen as his hands squeeze at the plushness of your ass. His moans against your cunt made you whine, pulling his cock into your mouth just like he wanted you to.

Your eyes rolled back as he groaned loudly, fingers slipping into your pussy to scrape his cum from your walls, pulling out everything he could to swallow into his mouth. You whine loudly when his fingers get a little rough, pain blooming making his fingers pull away and a quick apology comes from his mouth. He smiled as he softly rubbed against that one area, kissing softly making you whine as you bobbed your head on his cock.

“Better?”

You nodded around his length, jaw slack as you bobbed your head over his cock, groaning as you pulled away. His cock bounced, mixed saliva and cum dripping down his shaft as you whined loudly. “Y-Yes, Fin, just like that!”

He smirks, pushing a finger back into you as he continues to rub that one spot you loved, curling and thrusting his finger inside of you as you pull his cock back into your mouth. You groaned loudly around his length, bobbing your head as fast as you could before pushing your head down and pulling his entire length down your throat.

Your eyes watered as you gagged, rolling back into your head as his hips thrust up into you, one of his hands forcing your head to stay low. You could only groan around his length as he used your mouth like a cock sleeve, thrusting harder and harder into you as his fingers of his other hand curled inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit.

You pulled your hair out of your face, holding his thighs for some sort of grounding agent as he rammed his cock into your throat, your nose settled against his balls. He was groaning into your cunt, his tongue flicking and pushing into you as wet squelching fills the room, your throat relaxing as he does one last throat to cum down your throat.

He groaned loudly into your cunt, pushing his fingers into you just to hit that one spot that made you come undone around his digits. You gasped as you pulled away, letting out soft coughs as you swallowed, licking around his length before he pulled you off his face.

It makes you yelp as he quickly laid on your body, giggling as you hugged him tightly and pressed kisses to his hair. He mumbled out a soft ‘I love you’ as he pulled away, quickly gaining the same response from you before cleaning you up and pulling you into his chest. “I’m going to get you out of there alive, Y/N.”

You inhale deeply, pressing your face into his neck. “I know you will, Fin.”

It wasn’t until later in the games, where you stood by the tree did you actually doubt his words. A District 10 tribute had come way too close to you, slashing your side with her blade making you strip off half of your suit that Finnick couldn’t keep his eyes off of.

“What? Don’t stop on my account, I’m enjoying the show.” He was definitely enjoying the show, your soulmate mark on display and half of your skin that was covered in hickeys being shown off as well.

You rolled your eyes playfully, Katniss shoving him every few minutes to get him to focus on what they were doing as you attempted to find something to cover yourself. “Y/N, darling, what are you doing?”

“Trying to find something to cover myself up,” you explain quickly, sighing. “I just… feel exposed.”

He comes over, wrapping his arms around you to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m right here, darling. Always. You don’t have to feel exposed, ever.”

You smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. “I know, Fin. Thank you.”

He would stick by your side until Katniss blows out the top of the arena, cradling you under his body and whispering soft reassurances when you’re both lifted up into District 13s aircraft, and mending your side with the medical supplies.

“I promised I would get you out,” he whispers, smiling. “And I promise I’ll keep you safe, forever.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

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© asterias-record-shop

[qcellbit]

meta talk. i don't quite know how to word this properly, but adding french creators to the qsmp is the riskiest thing quackity studios could've done and it doesn't surprise me that the success to which it was executed was minimal.

adding portuguese speaking creators exclusively from brazil as the first batch outside of the initial english and spanish speakers was the perfect "soft expansion" for the server when you consider the reason for the project's conception - because quackity had experienced poor treatment from white americans as a bilingual latino creator and sought to unite his two communities in an empowering way, further expanding this very noble and personal idea to encapsulate all communities and all languages spanning across the entire world. inviting more latino creators who have likely had the same experiences and would be able to appreciate what the project is trying to achieve is a no-brainer.

it's an uncomfortable thing to touch on (which is why i've never, ever, seen it spoken about on this website), but minecraft projects and communities have always had massive problems with all forms of bigotry, but especially racism. white americans and white europeans have probably not felt the euphoria of seeing their culture celebrated in mainstream global entertainment projects as they already absolutely dominate the entertainment industry on a global scale. as someone who is visibly brown and living in europe, i've always got a lot of grief from classmates and co-workers in the form of ignorant jokes and flat out exclusion - it's an unfortunate cultural norm that bleeds into streaming due to the medium's casual and open nature, unnoticed or unchallenged by white viewers who don't want to have to confront a content creator's bigotry in fears of having to stop watching them. something that cannot be ignored by the people it's actually affecting. there is a reason dsmp and hermitcraft cosplay meet ups are dominated by pale skin.

i love the qsmp because its inclusion of latin american creators and quackity's selectiveness based on personal experience have largely (and i do mean largely, not entirely, but that's a discussion for another day) eliminated that problem.

the most prominent and succinct example i can think of is the photo of quackity's bedroom that was mocked countless times by his english speaking community and his bigoted english speaking friends when he streamed on the dsmp - when that photo was brought to the qsmp, forever, a fellow latino creator, was the first person to gently offer solidarity because he had come from the same impoverished latin american background. to me, and to a lot of minorities, that is what the qsmp is about. yeah, sharing languages in a minecraft server is novel, it's a fun way for americans who did poorly in high school to get back into learning spanish, but it stands for so much more when you're a racial minority. when your pleading in the dsmp fandom was drowned out and ignored for the entire duration of its run. when you're completely unrepresented in minecraft tournaments, and when known bigots are encouraged to participate in said tournaments to boost viewership because numbers are paramount. when you are finally seeing your culture appreciated rather than mocked on streams with tens of thousands of viewers all over the world as part of a massive project with a brilliant, engaging story.

it was obviously necessary to branch out of the americas at some point with what the project is attempting to achieve, but such a task is daunting when the next group you're inviting and their community probably do not have the capacity through personal experience to appreciate what the project stands for at its core in the same way the first batches do. can non americans all relate in discussions of the internet and entertainment industry being america and by extension english speaking centric? yeah, of course. but can white europeans relate when the only representation you have in said media revolves around harmful bigoted stereotypes? can there be a quiet solidarity between a white frenchman and a brown brazilian based on experiences with government, racial profiling, and online mockery? no. and in the landscape of livestreaming stupid jokes for entertainment alongside fast paced gameplay, these nuances are probably not going to be acknowledged.

in complete contrast to the solidarity exhibited between quackity and forever when discussing their poverty growing up in latin america, i have not forgotten and never will forget aypierre excusing his constant racist jokes aimed at the brazilians on his uniquely "french dark humour" that the brazilians, hurt by his comments, could "not understand." this is not an excusable cultural difference, but a symptom of white european privilege, and total ignorance towards what the project is meant to stand for. a smooth integration of all the world's cultures necessitates white european and white american introspection in a way that i haven't seen a lot of streamers capable of. admitting fault to such a degree and the ego of a large online personality do not often mesh well.

i'm always very irritated when people (especially english speakers) complain about them not "adding the germans" sooner despite us seeing applications for german speaking admins many months ago - because it would not be a task of simply throwing out server invites to content creators and cobbling together an animation of a submarine crashing into the island. you cannot downplay the ambition of this project and the mammoth task its trying to accomplish. people take for granted and forget that this is an unprecedented melding of cultures that would never otherwise interact and clash on the rare occasions they do. the french qsmp community being small and the french creators largely being outliers when it comes to the qsmp is not something born out of malice or purposeful exclusion, but simply a symptom of an unspoken lack of solidarity and inability to meaningfully relate based on everything from wildly varying privilege to global placement.

and don't get me wrong - i'm not excusing things like the times at which events are broadcast (i literally live in europe and have to stay up until sunrise to see most events, i think the admins do have to bite the bullet and begin structuring events around a new timezone that isn't the globally inconvenient unsustainable PST), or the exclusion of clips from french content creators at the presidential dinner, but i think attributing those admin choices to the brazilian community being unfairly favoured is downplaying what the qsmp as a project means for minorities, especially when the brazilian community receive the most scorn for infamously being the first to call out bigoted behaviour from qsmp content creators. yeah, it sucks that the french haven't slotted into the qsmp as well as the brazilians and aren't anywhere as numerous, but with all these unspoken contributing factors being taken into account, i can't be surprised.

i wish quackity and his team the best in smoothly integrating more languages and cultures in this amazing project in the future, but for the love of god please understand that the implications of this project and its impact are far larger than any streamer "drama" you might've witnessed in the past. and stop underplaying what this project is trying to achieve in an online landscape saturated in bigotry.

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Years later - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Word count: 1666

TW: religious imagery

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

The past haunts me. It has been years—so many I cannot begin to count, and if I’m being completely honest, I was not counting to begin with. Everything I have done was to escape that wretched part of my life in which my naivety and perhaps self-consuming passion, managed to control me. I wanted—want—to forget it all. 

The first time I stepped foot into what would soon come to be one of the few select places in my nightmares was very awe-inducing. The university was large, larger than I’d imagined. The stone walls had arched indents that made it look as if it belonged in one of the novels I read as a teenager and that my family wholeheartedly despised. The hallways were a contorted maze of watchful ancient statues following every movement with their eyes, priceless antiques donated by rich parents and students with more money in their pockets than I could ever dream of having. A multitude of departments found their home in that twisted place, such as theater, arts, modern literature, architecture, history, music, philosophy, and more. I believe you can imagine my excitement when faced with the exact kind of university I dreamed of studying at, especially when I had little to no hope of ever getting anywhere close to it, much less belonging.

One thing, as you know, led to another, and I ended up as one of the infamous Greek pupils. I’m quite sure everyone thought we were some kind of cult, which, if you think about it, isn’t entirely wrong.

The first few years were everything I had ever hoped for. I felt that I had found my place and, most certainly, my kind. We used to do everything together. Being with them was the only time I truly felt alive. It doesn’t matter whether we went to the comforting country house engulfed in trees safely from the outside world, had delicious dinners debating the most obscure topics, or simply studied in the library, sleep-deprived and on immense amounts of caffeine, I always felt as if I was doing something more than just existing.

Where did it all go wrong? I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I do not want to categorize Richard’s arrival as the initiator factor, for it was not his fault. Nor is it correct to say that the Bacchanal was the beginning of it all. It wouldn’t be Henry’s doing either, at least not the start of it. I have speculated on this over the years, and I have come to only one conclusion that seems right. My theory as to what the answer is and my attempt to pinpoint the exact place on the timeline are not as precise as I hoped they would be. It was not a single event that gave birth to our ruin, but rather multiple little moments, that are rather large in the big scheme. I also like to believe that Julian had as much of a role in all of this as the rest of us. Perhaps, even a considerably more sizeable one.

Everything that happened—I wish to leave behind. However, I recently came to realise, that, to my misery, it incorporated and formed my very being. My views, my ideas, my tastes, and my activities are all, to a certain extent, if not fully influenced and ruled over by it. I am my past.

My great, futile attempts to escape the life I once had, led me to London, a perfect setting for someone who wished to hide. A bustling place, where I had the chance to not be me, but a mere shadow lurking throughout the crowded streets, observing every passerby, while trying to guess their life stories, deepest desires, and strongest fears. I was no one, and I adored it. However, my presence became known among museum guides and librarians for its consistency. I have also earned a reputation among university students for being one of the few odd professors. This is probably due to the fact that I am very selective with my pupils, and I teach a couple that are quite brilliant in my office. I often have open discussions with them, for I consider it helps them engage with the topic better and understand the meaning and philosophy behind it in such a way that encourages them to analyze, observe, and critique. One such day, we were talking about the loss of self, Plato’s four divine madnesses:

‘Death is the mother of beauty,’ said Felix, one of my students.

I nodded in approval as I propped myself up on the desk.

‘And what is beauty?’ 

‘Terror,’ a voice answered from my office’s door.

My life up until this moment, along with all my darkest memories and the series of events that led me to where I am today, flash before my eyes, and it feels as if the universe has stopped specifically to play along with his sadistic trick. My jaw clenches involuntarily, my eyes threaten to betray my emotions, and I have to remind myself I’m not the same brainless kid chasing empty promises and impossible dreams, fully convinced that every existing land, no matter how vast it may be, is my playground and that fate will bend according to my petulant will. I have to get out of my head, the silence is stretching. My students, probably confused, are expecting some kind of sign from my disordered self. He is waiting for a reaction. The past has finally caught up to me. After all my futile attempts, it still managed to intrude on my present’s doorway. 

I take a deep breath. I look at my students, curiosity mixed with confusion clear in their expressions. I don’t need to look at him to know who he is.

‘I apologize,’ I start hoping that they cannot hear the tremble in my voice as accentuated as I seem to do, ‘class is dismissed.’

I need not say more before my students start gathering their belongings in complete silence so as to not further disturb the room completely filled with palpable animosity and perhaps something more vivid, cursed to lurk in the depths of our minds. I reach blindly toward my pack of cigarettes, lying somewhere on my desk between books and coffee-stained papers. Lucky Strikes, yet another sign of his hold on me. I light my cigarette, breathing in the curls of smoke spiraling down my throat. The sound of his leather shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards reverberates through my beating heart. I am well aware that even now, after years of attempting to escape from the rosary He entangled around my neck, I am still His most loyal devotee, respecting vigilantly every silent command. Deep and numbing smoke inside my lungs, like a relaxant, washes me with warm Indian summer waves of calmness.

He is fixating me with his cold blue eyes, watching for any sign of defiance. Over the years I’ve spent in his presence, I’ve learned to recognize his transitive facial expressions, his secretive ways, and his small habits, whether it is the way he holds a page between his fingers before turning it or his tendency to dive into long monologues about whatever interests him at that moment. It is a distinct ability that has grown its roots along my blood vessels, twisted and intertwined beyond differentiation. Understanding each other used to be our way of showing our affection. It is something so sacred that I cannot bring myself to weaponize against him and betray the bond we once had. You’d think that after so much time I’d be able to break free from the shackles His divinity holds me in and convert to a different faith. But He is nestled so deeply in me, that I cannot help but like the burns and the imprints upon my skin.

Henry Marchbanks Winter looks the same. But he now has a new pair of glasses and slight crow’s feet, along with faint smile lines framing his lips. He’s wearing one of his dark English suits, which have always fit him incredibly well. And if the wrinkles weren’t enough, the few grey hairs peeking from underneath the familiar dark colour of his hair are a brutal reminder of how much of him I missed. A cruel admonitum of the years that have passed and of all the times I wasn’t next to him, not by chance but by choice. It takes all I have in me to not fall to my knees, confess my sin, and beg for forgiveness. As if all the years I’ve been away from him turned into mere days I find myself falling back to my old habits and once again bowing down to his silent command.

Amor dominus terribilis est.

The cigarette burns, forgotten between my fingers, as I get wasted on his scent, for once, unbothered by the consequences.

‘I’ve finally found you, dilectus.’ Beloved.

‘I suppose you have.’ I cannot help but stare at him, hypnotized by the storm in his eyes.

‘I have been searching for you since the day you left.’ He reaches a gentle, steady hand to brush my cheek ‘London of all places-’

As much as I wish to let him hold me again I find myself interrupting him. ‘You have no business here.’ I walk to the open window and take my second drag from the almost fully burned cigarette.

He sighs, frustration slipping through the cracks of his perfection.

‘Like it or not,’ he emanates divine turmoil as he emphasizes every word  ‘you are my business.’

‘After so long we can’t be anything but strangers.’

‘You are wrong.’ He states immediately as I finish the sentence. ‘You cannot act as if you have forgotten everything we’ve been through.’ His hand once again finds its way to my face and caresses it with smooth, slow motions. This time I let him. ‘One more chance is all I ask for.’ He whispered.

‘One more chance.’ I agree, defeated.

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Crystalline

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna is blissfully unaware of the world around her.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, uuuhhhhhhhh mostly fluff and angst but not bad angst. kinda break up? pushing an shoving and shit. implied violence.

2.8k words

"Do you always trust your first initial feeling? Special knowledge holds true, bears believing I turned around and the water was closing all around like a glove Like the love that had finally, finally found me Then I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you"~Crystalline, Fleetwood Mac

“Ow.”

Frankie whimpers as Will tends to his wounds, shirtless in Will’s med room. William found him in here, trying to disinfect his arm from the bites.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done.” He wrapped Francisco up in gauze, gentle hands on the shaking man. 

“Please don’t tell Ben…”

Will sighs, finishing up his job. “He doesn’t talk to me anyway. But Frank, listen.” He looked at Francisco earnestly. “Santi’s catching on. You’ve gotta be more careful.”

Francisco shook his head. “There’s no being careful. There’s no nothing. I’m not… we’re not…” He sighs. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s gonna get Ben killed.”

Although looking sympathetic, there was a soft smile on Will’s face. “That’s why I’ve always liked you, Frank. Someone’s gotta look out for him.”

“You still do, he just doesn’t know it.”

“C’mere.” Will beckoned, bringing Frankie close with his large hand entangling in his brown locks. Will hugged him, then pulled away just enough for a kiss. “You’re a good man, Francisco.”

He kissed back, but refused to compliment. “No… I’m not, I can’t stand up to Santi, I can’t have Ben the way I want I can’t protect Madonna-”

A deep kiss interrupted Frankie, Will’s broad, firm body pressing him up against the counter. “You’re protecting them both, you’re doing the right thing.” Will cupped Frankies face, towering over him. Francisco couldn’t help falling into him, submitting to his strength, his power, his dominance. Will brought his hand down, cupping Frankie’s length through his sweats and stroking him to full hardness. “You’re taking care of them, and I’m going to take care of you.”

Francisco whimpered, relaxing against the counter as he closed his eyes, sinking into Will’s presence.

“T-Thank you…”

*

“You’re improving a lot.” Santiago compliments you. He sat in his usual spot, watching you paint your latest project. You’d seen it a few nights ago, Francisco in a flower crown, smiling with his eyes closed with Pope behind him, kissing his neck. Pope was very pleased with this most recent project, coming to watch you every day. He must really be proud of you. 

Sipping his wine, he smiled at you from over his glass. This was your special time together, and you always looked forward to it. You were starting to show just a little, and you frequently caught him staring at your stomach.

“Thank you, Pope.” You giggle, adding color to the flowers in Francisco’s hair. Blue, yellow, red, white. 

Pope didn’t touch you sexually, he hadn’t since you learned you were pregnant. There was no need, he said, but he still kissed you, still held you, his hands caressing your stomach. You’d made him proud, and that’s what mattered. That’s all you’d wanted to do since you were a child.

*

“Are you going to talk to me?” Will asked his brother, but Ben didn’t turn around. He was doing target practice with his arrows. There was a limited amount of guns and Ben liked to know he could make long distance shots to protect the house if needed.

“Ben, come on. I thought we moved past this when I saved your fucking life.”

He turned around, lowering his bow. “You were protecting Madonna, not me.”

Will rolled his eyes. “She’s not here, we don’t gotta pretend.”

“I’m not? What are you talking about?”

Benny looked genuinely… confused. “You don’t remember what happened at the announcement?”

Ben scoffed, when back to shooting. “Of course I fucking do. See, this is the problem with you! You always doubt me!”

“Ben, someone tried to shoot you, one of your psycho little girlfriends because you can’t keep it in your pants even thought you’ve got 2 dicks and a pussy you’re fucking married too, but that’s not enough-”

Ben swung around again, this time pointing his arrow at Will. “Don’t fucking act like I’m stupid!”

Did Ben actually not know what happened? The lie was his idea… “Okay… okay I’m sorry.”

“Melody tried to kill Madonna because she was jealous! That’s it! Nothing else happened!”

“I didn’t say anything did…”

In a fit, Ben growled and for a moment Will wondered if he was about to get shot again, but instead Ben broke his bow and arrow over his knee. Screaming, he threw it on the ground and stomped until they were just sticks. Ben stormed off.

*

You lay on top of Francisco in your meadow, kissing on him gently, soft and sweet. His poor lip was healing finallly. Francisco stopped you when you go to unbutton his green shirt. You look down at him curiously. 

“Oh, do you not want me? I guess I’m pregnant already, I can-” You move to get off him, embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t like your body as you gained weight? Maybe he just didn’t see a reason to fuck you. Maybe he didn’t like you again…

“Stay, please.” Francisco kissed you deeply, his cock twitching in his pants. “I just… I want my shirt on, please… ”

“Oh, of course…” You pat his tummy, wondering if maybe he shared some of your insecurities. He was certainly the fluffiest of the four, but you absolutely adored the way he looked, his body was perfect to you. “I think you’re… so, so handsome, you know that, right?” you weren’t good at flirting, even this made your face grow warm, but you wanted him to know how much you loved him. 

Frankie blushes. “Thank you, but I’d rather keep the shirt on… if that’s okay…”

You kiss his sweet, pouty lower lip with a little peck, considerate of his bite. “Anything for you, my perfect husband.”

You made love in the meadow, trees and flowers and birds and bee’s, all of nature surrounding you, all of heaven and earth shining their approval.

*

Ben stumbled into Frankie’s room, loudly, making the older man just in his bed. He was asleep on his stomach, and the noise scared the absolute shit out of him

“Frankie!” He raised his hands, shouting.

“JESUS Benjamin, what the hell!” He gets out of bed, wide awake now. He was wearing a shirt, no buttons. “Are you-” Francisco turned on his light and cupped Ben’s face. “You’re drunk again? What the fuck Benjamin!”

Not in the mood for a lecture, Ben stumbled forward and gripped Francisco’s hair, yanking him forward into a bruising kiss. For a moment, Francisco melted into him. He didn’t care that his lip throbbed, or that his shoulder and arm still hurt to move. He didn’t care about what he was supposed to be doing. He just wanted Ben, his handsome, sweet, fun, goddamnhestall husband, Ben. He kissed him back.

But then he felt his cock, free of any constraint hardening, and he remembered. He’d not supposed to be fucking Ben like this anymore. 

Frankie gently nudged him back, but Ben didn’t stop, moving to kiss his neck, holding him close. 

“Benjamin, we can’t-”

“We can.” Ben sucked a hickey into his skin, spitting into his hand to stroke Francisco. “You and me, Frankie. We belong together.” Although slurring just a bit, Ben’s voice was deep, gravely with need, dark and hungry and oh-so spine tingling.

“But…” frankie protested between kisses, making no real attempted to move away as he licked into Ben’s mouth, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. “Santi… Madonna…”

Ben spat his words. “Fuck ‘em. They don’t matter, only you matte Frankie. Only you.” 

He wanted to believe that, he did… he couldn’t. “Is that why you still fuck both of them?”

“I have to, you know that-” Ben sucked on his tongue, fighting the urge to nibble at his lip, make his own mark.

“Do you ‘have to’ fuck every woman in Delta?”

Ben shoved him so hard he stumbled back, it took a second for him to realize what happened. 

Francisco blinked, then with a puff of his chest he shoved Ben back, making him fall into a side table. When Ben looked up, his blue eyes were large and wet. Frankie wanted to run to him, apologize, help him up… but he needed this to end. Ben wasn’t going to run away with him, and messing around with Benjamin, even if he was the one he wanted, was going to get Ben killed. Francisco couldn’t stand to let that happen.

“This needs to stop, Ben. I’m not doing this anymore.”

From on the floor, the 6’3 strongman man looked small, weak, vulnerable. Francisco’s heart shattered as he screamed. “GET OUT!” He took hold of his shirt in both fists and shoved him the rest of the way out the door.

Frankie locked out the other half of his heart.

*

You sigh constantly, sinking further into the water. Will just got done washing your hair, and now he was giving you a soothing milk bath, even putting flower petals in it. Knelt beside you, he had a super soft washcloth and was simply using it to run warm water over your body. He put lavender in the water, commenting that he thought had more left. Not wanting to lie you tell him the truth, that you and Rey found it you used it on Pope. You apologize for going through his things for spilling it. Will said it was totally okay.

The pregnancy had gone pretty smooth, so far no problems but you were having your usual sleep issues. You and Will developed a routine to help you sleep. Ever since he was shot, you’ve been sleeping in his bed. Now, he liked to give you a lavender bath before bedtime. He’d relax you, sometimes finger fuck you if you needed your mind cleared, then once you began nodding off he drained the water, patted you dry and then carried you to his room in a big towel. There, he dressed you in comfortable pj’s and tucked you in with him. It was nice, you felt safe, and best of all, no incubus.

“Such a pretty woman…” Will mutters, putting down the cloth to massage oils into your skin. It felt nice being pampered. 

You giggle. “Thank you.”

“Everything going good with the others?” Will always checked in on you, which you appreciated. He helped you navigate things in the house and with Pope especially. 

“Going great, thank you. Francisco seemed down there for a little but I think he’s cheered up.”

Will hummed in agreement. “I noticed that too, but you’re right, I think he’s happy now. Frankie had low moods sometimes, but he just needs a little patience and kindness when he does. And you give him that so well, thank you.” He kissed your forehead. “Such a good little wife.”

“And you’re such a good husband.” You tickle his arm, making him smile.

“Anything for my princess.”

*

Pope was gentle today.

Francisco was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow trying to avoid tempting Pope with his mouth. 

“So fucking pretty…” He slowly thrust inside him, softening cockcovering itself in cum. He looked how Frankie looked with his cum leaking out. “Beautiful…”

Santi laid down beside Francisco, and Frankie was ashamed to say he took comfort in the touch. He wanted to hate Santi, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t hate a man he’d known his whole life, who he’d shared that life with day in, day out. They were never apart.

 “I’m so happy with you, Frank…” He kisses Frankie’s head, and Frankie can’t help but smile. He liked Santi’s kisses when he was being nice.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t a lie.

*

You squeal, dashing around the table to avoid Ben who chased after you with a cup of water in his hand. To be fair, you started the water fight, and now both of you were drenched in water, especially after he took out the kitchen spray in the sink and showered you. Ben laughed, giving chase but he slipped on a puddle, falling on his ass.

“Ben!” You gasp, laughing still as he disappears behind the table, and you run around to check on him. Big mistake.

“BOO!”

“AH!!”

Ben threw his cup of water at you, drenching you all over again. You dump your water on his head and then make a mad dash to get more. You weren’t above getting him while he’s down.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ben scrambles up, scooping you up as you scream and laugh, carrying you to the sink.

“BEEEEN!” You playfully smack at his chest, putting up a pretend fight. “What are you doing!!”

“Winning!” Benny placed you in the empty sink and turning on the faucet over your lap. 

He doesn’t see it coming when you grab the sprayer.

*

Will heard the shouting from Frankie’s room. Jesus, they were not subtle. It wasn’t until he heard the crash he knew they weren’t fucking. Getting up to investigate, he was just in time to see Ben getting his ass thrown out of Frankie’s room. Standing in the hall, he watched Ben, clearly drunk, curl up in a ball on the floor and cry.

Ben didn’t want much to do with Will, not as a brother. Although they worked well together in matters revolving around their family, their community, their woman, Ben didn’t want the closeness and friendship they used to share. Will had hoped after he was shot, Ben would throw his jealousy aside, that he would see that Will loved him and for a moment, he did. When Will was shot, Ben stayed at his side, crying even though the shooter was still at large. He risked his life for him, even with Frankie screaming and pulling at him. Ben helped patch him up, not trusting Iris.

Now Ben was back to Ben, a sad, alcoholic slut.

Will knelt by his sobbing brother’s side, pulling him into his strong arms. Will loved Frankie, but right now Frankie wasn’t his husband. He was the man that broke his baby brother's heart.

“It’s gonna be okay, Benny. It’s gonna be okay.”

*

You sat on the counter, watching with joy as Reyansh poked at Iris, wrapping his arms around her and swaying. He’d been trying to cheer her up after she’d hovered over him and his black eye. Reyansh said it was standard sparring training for the guards and someone got a good shot in, and Jonah confirmed this, but Iris still fussed over him.

“C’mooooon, smile. Baby.”

“No, I’m grumpy.” But a smile was slipping. 

Jonah appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Sing to her, that’s a guarantee.”

“Oooohohoho no you don’t!” Iris poked at his chest. “That’s cheating!” Iris was a sucker for Rey’s singing.

It was too late. “Love’n you, is it the riiiigh thing to dooooo”

“Reeeeeey”

He turned her around to face him, and she was already smiling. “How can I, ever change things that I feeeeeeeel!”

She giggled as Rey spun her around. “You know this is my favorite! It’s not fair.”

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world!”

Jonah approached you. Things had still been awkward, but the way Jonah protected you at the shooting made you know for sure that he still cared about you. He held out a hand.

Rey took Iris’s hands, doing the twist with her. You liked how Iris’s curls moved around. She was always pretty, but god, when she smiled. You saw why Rey loved her.

“HOW CAN I WHEN YOU WON”T TAKE IT FROM MEEEE!”

You take Jonah’s hand and as soon as you hop down, he swings you around, paying attention to making sure you didn’t hit anything.

Jonah and Rey both sing, very loudly. “YOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAAAAYYYYYY!”

Iris echo’d them “GO YOUR OWN WAAAAaaaaaayyy”

Jonah picked you up and spun you around, rey twirled Iris. “YOU CAN CALL IT ANOOOOOOTHER LONELY DAAYAYAYAYY”

“ANOTHER LONELY DAYYAYAYAYAY”

Reyansh took your hand, linking your arms and Jonah scooped up Iris and spun her.

“YOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAYYYY”

You sang with Iris “GO YOUR OWN WAAYYY”

Rey sang the rest of the song, you all took turns dancing. You didn’t dare try to dance with Iris, but to your surprise, she took you in her arms, pulling you close and dancing with you too. She smelled like wildflowers.

*

Earlier that day…

Rey was whistling down the hall as usual. Today was a good day. It was bright and sunny out, and Iris had a surprisingly low work load. She even agreed to spend the night in his room, which, outside of the potential benefits, meant he got to hold her all night. What more could he ask for in life?

Oh! And he saw Frankie outside gardening, and maybe they shared a blunt. What about it! Yeah, he was in a great mood.

“Saha? A word?” Will’s voice called behind him. Rey rolled his eyes before turning around. Great, this guy. 

Rey out on a fake smile and turned around. “What can I do for you.”

Will was standing with his hands tucked into his pockets, a small smile on his face, but it wasn’t comforting, not like Jonah’s smile.

“Was talking to The Madonna last night, she said you helped her break into my room to get my oils?”

AAHHHHHHHHHH thank you so much for sticking with me!!! I'm so happy to have you!!!!

If you enjoy this, you may enjoy Awakening over at my main @romanarose! I have a commission to do, (IronPope!!) but then im gonna REALLY try and crack down on the last chapter. lots of bisexuality, ironpope,fishben, and the sweetest orgy you've ever read

If you're in the "I wanna fuck Jonah" club, I wrote a commission that is NON CANON with pre ROF Jonah, non-madonna reader and Marcus (david harbour), where you're fucking both of them <3 the actions arent cnon but the insights into the characters are!

Madonna and Iris. Alicia is shipping it! What do you think?

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

[2af-afterdark]

Y'all mind if I give a little baby rant? Not something massive but something that bothers me as a writer/theorist (who sometimes makes actual real theories and not just crack)?

This. This right here. I hate this moment in particular. You may ask yourself why I, a vocal Leviathan lover, would hate this moment that focuses on Ra-on having a positive interpretation of one of my favorites. Well... it's because it's a example of how much this game feels it has to hold our hands to make sure we interpret the characters the way they want rather than letting character's actions speak for themselves and allowing the player's to come to their own conclusions.

Here is the thing... I am in complete agreement with what Ra-on says here. I have said multiple times how I read Leviathan's character and this lines up with those interpretations almost 1-to-1. I guess I am glad to know that my interpretation of him was correct, but that doesn't mean I like this moment. I would have preferred to leave it to character analysis and allowing Leviathan to open up more over time to make some parts of his characterization more clear and give him more depth. It just... feels cheap and unearned when the creator has to explicitly tell you what they intended.

Like, I am painfully aware that Leviathan, though very pretty, is not looked upon favorably by a large chunk of the fanbase because of his... eccentricities. Some people just cannot come to terms with his actions or view them in a positive light. Some people don't see him the way I do, which is fine. I respect people thinking what they will about characters (unless they are so wrong it actively goes against the source material, but that is another issue entirely). Seeing this moment where PB just... tells us that Leviathan is so prickly because he does what he must to keep Hades and Hell safe is just boring. There is no spark in finally understanding a character. No joy in realizing their motives. Just the writer telling us what they want us to think of someone.

No, this is not the first time I have noticed this in the story, but I have forgiven some instances because the words were coming from an omniscient narrator giving exposition to fill in gaps that were not show (usually seen in events) and not Ra-on who is the player insert. This moment is just also the more egregious because of how divisive Leviathan is and feels (though however unintentional) that PB is telling the people who don't like him that they misunderstand him and they should actually think about him in this other way so they'll come around to liking him.

[girlgenius1111]

jesus sorry last thing actually- i want to make it clear im not some korbin super fan, and i don’t agree with her veiws whatsoever. i just disagree with a lot of comments ive seen online about what she has to do publicly or if she deserves to play and so on. at the end of the day she plays a sport and she’s good at it and THATS what got her where she is and where all of the team is. NOT their beliefs and veiws.

i’m gonna post screenshots of your previous asks instead of answering all 3

re your first ask,

i def think team cohesion is obviously necessary and it makes sense that they don’t outwardly hate her even if they disagree with her statements. my comment that they looked excited was more that they look REALLY excited for her. like genuinely, on a personal level, they looked happy for her specifically that she scored a goal. not just that they scored goal. idk if that makes sense.

i think until this match, her performances have been really underwhelming. blame it on the boos and people hating on her, but i don’t really think it makes sense to choose a player that brings controversy and hasn’t been playing well.

regarding her apologies, i get the point you’re making. people are entitled to their opinions. obviously the issue is when she puts them on social media for the world to see. i don’t think anyone can force her to change her beliefs, but i do think that her actions should have consequences. if you spew hate, you shouldn’t just get to apologize on your instagram story and move on.

i think maybe you aren’t considering that the uswnt isn’t just a team with some gay players. for a lot of people, it was the first place they saw openly gay people in the spotlight. the team and the environment around the team is supposed to be a safe space for the fans, which it cannot be if a raging homophobe is in said space.

that’s why i think the alleged work she’s doing behind the scenes should be public. like sam mewis said, her actions were very public, and the way she makes up for them should be public as well.

it’s not just woso fans hurt by her actions. adults can read the things she reposted, and not be affected by it, but impressionable kids and teens can read the same thing and take it to heart.

at the end of the day, people are entitled to their opinions and beliefs. the issue with korbin is that her statements were public, were hateful, and disparaged a large portion of uswnt fans as well as someone who has done so much for women’s soccer and for lgbtq+ issues.

these actions should have consequences, and a lot of people feel that her apology didn’t really do enough, and the fact that there have been no tangible consequences is frustrating.

hate shouldn’t be excused because it’s someone’s opinion. people are free to say what they want, but that doesn’t mean that these words won’t come with consequences.

[zukosdualdao]

despite my lack of enjoyment for most of the atla post-series comics themselves, i'm very fascinated by the discussions around them because, as with many post-series comics, two of the biggest questions are: are these canon? and does that matter?

it's interesting, too, because i have never seen a single post-series comics continuation that was widely well-received. which is not to say that no one enjoys them - you can find avid supports and avid detractors for just about any property and any storytelling medium you can think of - but that the contention around them is not contained just to atla. (the buffy post-series continuation comics, for example, are pretty controversial as well.)

i think part of it comes down to fan resentment, because as much people say they want more of a certain thing, it's actually often better, at least i think, for a creative project to be self-contained and not try to keep milking the cash cow. and when creators are doing that and not delivering a story fans are happy with, it shows.

but then that also leads to this question, right, of are these post-series comics canon? i think the answer is genuinely more nuanced than some have given thought to. bryke would say yes, as they are the official creators and have been heavily involved in the production of the comics. and anyone who subscribes to the idea that the original creators of a thing hold the final word on the idea of what's canon and what's not would therefore agree also.

but if someone was more inclined to think that once a creator puts their work out into the world, they're sort of giving up the the idea that they have total control as to how people interpret the thing they've created... then it's a lot murkier.

i guess, to be clear, i do not, strictly speaking, see the atla comics as canon. i'm not the type (at least these days, there's a lot of past fandom follow-the-leader-ing i was doing that i now cringe back at, i was sixteen, it's fine) to declare something as 'not canon' if i simply don't like it. i think that's important to acknowledge because sometimes canon is worth criticizing. this is, incidentally, where i (again, these days) find myself uninterested, by and large, in deriding a character for behaving 'ooc', and instead far more interested in contextualizing and analyzing their behavior. after all, if it's in the thing, it’s in the thing.

... except the comics aren't the original thing. they are influenced and backed by the original creators and presumably a lot of people on the original team, but they're an entirely different medium, and presumably not entirely the same team, and they may well have had a very different artistic mission statement or way of brainstorming ideas, etc, etc. (also, to anyone who says the medium does not matter, i implore you to think about how different the show would be with a different musical score! for an instance. and then think about the fact for as big an influence as the music had on the series, the comics inherently cannot translate that.)

which leads me to a rabbit-hole train of thought question there is, i think, no clear answer to, but i will pose it regardless: can something made (at least in part) by the original creators be a 'transformative work'? if you're defining 'transformative' as: "adds "new expression, meaning, or message" to the original work", then i think you could easily argue that the new medium, if nothing else, constitutes a 'new expression.' but then you could also argue that the whole point of the term is to protect creators of transformative works from copyright claims made by the original creators, arguably making that irrelevant.

anyway! even more than the nebulous nature of what a post-canon comic even is, i find fan engagement - or lack thereof - pretty important to the conversation, too. because i think those of us deeply entrenched in fandom spaces tend to forget that casual viewership probably takes up a much larger percentage of most audiences than those in fandom, and that's probably true even years after a show has ended. that being the case, a lot of the audience has probably never even heard of the comics, let alone read them.

there are, naturally, nuances and variables to this, such as the idea that someone who goes back and watches a show from twenty years ago might be more likely to engage in fandom, and the way that 'fandom' has a concept has evolved (as i do think what i'd term 'casual fandom', eg. tweeting about bridgerton but not necessarily consuming or creating fan content is a lot more common now than it was twenty years ago due to social media), as well as the fact that you don't have to be involved in fandom to say, receive the comics as a gift from an uncle who knows you like the franchise.

but all of this can be true and it can also still be true that a pretty big percentage of people who have watched and even love atla haven't read the comics/have no knowledge or interest in them. and so that gets to the issue of does it matter whether they're canon or not? i've seen some KA shippers, for instance, argue that the comics 'fixed' the issue of aang kissing katara without her consent in teip because there's a comic (iirc) where he asks if he can kiss her, she says not right now, he listens, the end. and to be clear, i'm not trying to demean the creators for including that scene, as i think it's important to model healthy examples of consent for kids. but i also really empathize with the idea that it's sort of too-little-too-late because the original issue was never addressed in-show and, again! many people who did watch the show have never and will never read that comic.

so when i hear the debates back-and-forth of whether they count as canon or not, my head hurts, and i just can't find it in myself to care. who knows, right? maybe the real canon is the friends we made along the way. etc.

what it boils down to for me is this: generally speaking, i don't enjoy the comics and have no need or desire to incorporate them into my understanding of atla's series narrative. there are elements that i can appreciate, and they are largely zuko and the fn royal family backstory details, because, unlike the additive adventure narratives, it primarily serves to deepen and contextualize things we already saw in the show. i know some people see this 'i take what i like and dump out the rest' philosophy as, idk, a cheap cop-out or something. maybe they're right! i just can't find it in myself to care. at the end of the day, i think the big important thing for me is that i am able to define and decide on these things for myself. i think we should get more comfortable doing that in fandom in general, tbh.

[youssefguedira]

Some prompt ideas for you!

Nicky and Quynh as best friends, doing some ritual or activity together that they used to do before, again after she escapes from the sea and is healing

Andy as a baby immortal, doing some dumb dangerous shit. Maybe she's doing it to help someone and it's an external pov a la your "I have seen angels in my time" series?

Joe and Lucia after he and Nicky go back to find her. Maybe he's tentative about whether she'll understand or accept them being in love, they have a serious conversation, and then it turns into her telling him embarrassing baby/teenager Nicky Stories?

Absolutely love your writing and your Lucia stories are currently some of my absolute favorites ❤️

hellooooo i know you sent this forever ago but i have been thinking about family and Them lately so. this is set a couple years after the end of if i ask you to stay wherein nicky and joe have returned to stay with lucia for a bit ! it's not quite joe being nervous about whether she'll accept them or not (she largely already has) but it DOES turn into embarassing teenage nicky stories so i hope you enjoy

"Yusuf, come help me with this," Lucia says.

It's become something of a ritual, and so Yusuf is now comfortable joining her at the counter as she splits the dough into two parts and passes one to him. Outside, Nicolò is herding the goats towards the hills and having only partial success; one of the kids splits off from the herd and starts charging back towards the house, making Nicolò curse loudly enough that they can hear him faintly through the window. Lucia chuckles.

"I am glad he will have you, you know," she says. She tosses a handful of flour over the counter and begins to knead the dough. Yusuf follows suit. "After."

They don't talk about after often, even if all three of them know. For the most part, Yusuf tries not to think about it, and he knows Nicolò does the same, though it haunts every single thing they do, a constant shadow. There are still nights where Nicolò barely speaks, overcome by it.

"Did he ever tell you why our father sent him to seminary?" she continues.

"Enough," Yusuf says.

Lucia hums. She's quiet for a while. Outside, Nicolò resorts to picking up the wayward kid and carrying it with him while he herds the rest; it busies itself chewing on his sleeve.

"I only ever wanted him to be happy," she says. "When he left for the seminary I had hoped that it would bring him some kind of peace, even if it was not what he chose. But then he decided to go to Jerusalem, and, well. He never did tell me why. And I did not think about it beyond the fact that it was taking him away, and that I would likely never see him again. He has not told me many details about what happened to him - to you both - there, but I understand enough. But even despite all of it, I am glad he found you in the end."

"I am too," Yusuf says quietly.

"He was always so..." She waves one hand in the air as if searching for the right word, scattering a light cloud of flour that shimmers in the morning sun. "Uncertain. But he seems so much more settled, around you." She smiles at him, and Yusuf cannot do anything but smile back.

There is not much more to be said, after that. Nicolò has put the kid down, and now it bounces after him, dancing around him in circles and almost tripping him up at least three times. It makes him curse again, but he's smiling too much for it to be convincing. It makes Yusuf smile, too. They finish kneading the do

"He spent almost all his time with them when he came to visit," Lucia says, nodding towards the window. "The kids loved him. He would sit down and let them climb all over him. They used to chew on his hair."

Yusuf can imagine it clearly: fifteen-year-old Nicolò, still growing, letting five or six baby goats clamber all over him.

"There was this one doe, though, who hated him," she continues. "She would let anyone else near, but not him. She used to bite at his heels every time he came near. She chased him up a tree, once. I found him halfway up. He'd forgotten that goats climb trees, too."

Yusuf laughs out loud, and it's at that moment that the door swings open, and Nicolò's voice echoes through the house. "No, no, piccola," he's saying, "you have to stay outside."

When he comes into the kitchen, he's holding the kid, who has given up on chewing his sleeve and is now trying to reach his hair, refusing to be deterred even though he keeps pushing her away. He's so caught up in this task that he doesn't notice them both watching him straight away, and when he does pauses like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "What?" he asks, looking between them.

"Nothing," Lucia says before Yusuf can say anything. Nicolò looks between them again, before shaking his head and carrying the goat over to the table.

"New friend?" Yusuf asks him.

"She won't leave me alone," Nicolò says.

"Nicolò," Lucia says, "do you remember the name of that goat that chased you up the tree? I couldn't seem to recall."

Nicolò blinks, then sighs. "Tell me you didn't tell Yusuf that story."

"Not all of it," Yusuf says innocently.

Nicolò groans. Yusuf laughs, and so does Lucia.

The shadow is still there, yes. But even though he complains, for a moment Nicolò's shoulders seem more relaxed, and the sun seems just a little brighter.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: swears (I like swearing), incest references, mentions of violence, nsfw included - 18+

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

ESTJ

Slytherin

Neutral Evil

Queen of Wands Reversed

Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon, Gemini Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You see a side of Cersei that no one else sees

・A softer, gentler side. 

・The innerworkings of her mind come out when she’s with you - you see her deliberate, you see her worry and where her thoughts take her 

・She’s still intimidating though

・But she’s never awful to you; you aren’t someone who she just uses for her bed. Cersei came to know you. To see you and your personality for what they are. 

・Never did she have such a connection

・It’s different with Jaime. It’s more physical, demanding, lustfilled

・With you, it’s calmer, slower, ... loving

・It took time, but she lowered her walls, stopped guarding herself and what she was really thinking

・She shared with you things that she had never told anyone else

・How she would run Westeros, what she would do with the power that only men hold

・You’re seen as her ladies maid or a lady in waiting 

・Always by her side; never too far. So, no one questions it. Because it all makes sense that she needs you day and night. 

・Her enemies became yours, and yours became hers. Even if she could not outwardly say so, she makes sure that those who you hate never come into power. 

・Every proposal you get from a Lord or Knight, is instantly rejected by Cersei. She cannot have you marrying another. No one is good enough for you. 

・And she gives you everything you need, want, and wish for.

・For example, she’s given you a large chamber that is right near hers. A balcony that opens over the coast of King’s Landing, so you can see the sea instead of Flea Bottom

・You have every dress, jewel, accessory that you desire. 

・In other words, you want for nought. 

・Never lets anyone harm you or your family (she would have them at court so that you have another reason to stay)

・Even idle gossip ceases at your name. Those who talk ill of you lose their tongues

・Loves the feeling of your hands in her hair, playing with the beautiful golden strands 

・She only lets you shows physical affection. Well...to her. Cersei is rarely ever shown affection by her father, and her children. If her daughter was still in King’s Landing, it would be a different story. But she isn’t. 

・Even Tommen rarely sees his mother

・But you’re on good terms with all her children. You show them kindness and take the time to listen to them. Even Joffrey has/had a soft spot for you (you used manipulation tactics...)

・You make her feel like a better person, or, you make her want to be a better person

・You have nightly wine talks; where you visit her chambers and basically get drunk. Talk about your days and what occurred. 

・She cares about you so much that she lets slip important information 

・But that may also be the drink

・It took a long time for her to trust you. She doesn’t trust easily. 

・Years actually. 

・You were by her side for years before she started to open up. But once she did start to open up, she spoke about her father and what he expects from her. 

・Though you do grow nervous at times because what is the end game? Where will you end up? You cannot keep this up forever. 

・Whenever you bring this up to Cersei, she says that you can keep this up forever. But you will both have to sacrifice something 

・You may need to marry a Lord, and she will keep his family at court - so you may remain 

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

I love you, wholeheartedly.” x “You shouldn’t, I don’t deserve it.”

Cold Hearted (Cersei) x The One Who Makes Them Soft (You)

Always Hold Grudges (Cersei) x Forgives Too Easily (You)

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾🔞𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒅𝒏𝒊!

・Cersei is actually a switch, rather than solely dominant or submissive. With you she was able to figure out what she liked about sex. You explored together

・Compared to Jaime when it felt as if his needs were always above her own sexually

・She loves the feeling of your head between her legs. The way your tongue plays with her clit, your fingers splaying the sensitive nub apart - your thumb toying and teasing

・Her fingers grabbing at your hair, pulling as she moans and cries in ecstasy 

・She loves biting you and wants so badly to leave marks on your body for people to see. But she knows that it would put you in danger. So, she leaves the marks in hidden places - your thighs, breasts, ass. 

・Wants to fuck you in public, would do so on her chamber’s balcony, in the hallways, on the Iron Throne 

・She has fantasies of doing just that; having everyone gathered, watching as she kisses, sucks, licks and fucks you. Making them watch. Know that you’re hers. 

Tagged: @yellowbird-flying.

[bandaged-writer]

I saw your post for Drabble ideas: what about a drunk confession from Chuuya? I feel like he’d be really open about his feelings unlike when he’s sober because he doesn’t wanna get you involved in his mafia shenanigans so he’s been keeping his pining on the down-low. I just wanna give this man a lil kith on the forehead 😔

"mafia shenanigans" and his shenanigans are killing people 😭

739 words ; fluff

alcohol consumption, fem reader

It was liquor that warmed your throat, but it was Chuuya who warmed your heart.

An empty bottle of wine stood on his wooden desk, the glass half empty and held by skilled, gloved fingers, swishing the burgundy liquid around. Through the large window of his office, orange rays dipped Chuuya’s face in soft hues - or maybe it was the alcohol leaving behind a rosy shade upon his cheeks. If you were to guess, you’d say it was the latter.

You rested your cheek on your palm, a smile tugging at your lips as Chuuya turned into the chatterbox he secretly was. He talked about his argument with Kouyou, his distaste towards his paperwork made a comment about Mori that almost caused you to snort wine out of your nose.

Although you didn’t know who these people were, you found his stories always most amusing.

“There’s one more thing I gotta tell you about,” Chuuya slurred his words and looked at you like you had put the stars in the sky. “But you can’t tell [Name].”

A deadpan expression rested upon your face. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. He was lucky he was cute. “Yeah, I promise.”

Chuuya sighed like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and put his glass of wine on the desk. Mindlessly, he traced his finger along the glass’s edge like he was lost in a hopeless daydream. “Whenever I see [Name], I’m tellin’ ya..,” he trails off, a pause. “My heart always skips a beat and I can’t form a damn thought. I think.."

“I think she hexed me!”

Heat rose to your cheeks and suddenly the room felt warmer than it did before. You already knew that Chuuya was acting a little..funny whenever you were around, but didn’t expect him to feel that way towards you. After all, all you two were merely..drinking buddies.

Two strangers who had happened to have met in a bar, sharing a drink, a conversation and phone numbers to stay in contact. Nothing could’ve prepared you for late night calls, his warmth seeping through the leather of his gloves or the brutal honesty Chuuya presented either at 2 am or when he was so hammered that he couldn’t even recognize you.

Oh, he had skillfully wormed his way into your heart with a temperament that only Chuuya possessed.

“Hexed you? Are you sure you’re not developing feelings?,” you questioned like he wasn’t talking to his number one problem that kept him up at night.

“Pfft, I cannot have feelings!” Chuuya waved his arm through the air, leaned his head back into his leather chair and mumbled away. “I’m totally not thinking of her beautiful face or the softness of her hair! I don’t even like her stupidly adorable smile! Totally not!”

Ignorance was bliss, or so they said.

Taking a sip of wine, you stared into the depths of the glass and hummed. “Why not? It’s normal to have feelings for someone you like like.”

“What are you? Stupid?,” Chuuya groaned, still obvious that it was you who he was pouring his heart out to. “If she ever finds out that I’m with the Mafia, she would..”

The following few words went in one ear and out the other. All you could hear was the sound of wine being poured, your own heartbeat falling a step behind and the white noise in your lungs. Seconds ticked by, yet time seemed to have come to an abrupt halt.

Chuuya? In the Mafia?

It explained so many things. His way of fighting, the air of authority around him and the way he handles things on his own. Everything clicked like a long-lost puzzle piece and completed the big picture that was Chuuya Nakahara.

Yet..did it matter what he did for a living? Certainly, he had his reasons for joining an organization which you had believed was nothing but an urban myth, a fancy story among teens whenever there was an inexplicable murder.

Finally, air filled your lungs and the voice that you believed to be lost returned. “I think you should tell her, regardless. The answer might surprise you.”

A beat of silence filled the air as Chuuya stared at you.

“..Maybe you’re right. I’m so lucky to have you, Kouyou.”

The only thing you were certain of was that this man would suffer from a major hangover the following morning.

send me your thoughts/thirsts for a drabble lol <3