#i hope you’re all ready because it truly is a wild one

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

alright! the poll fic you all voted for in the beginning of this month is officially done!

i’m planning on posting it on saturday the 21/12

[eccentricwritingbaby]

sex ban

carlos sainz jr x reader

summary - carlos puts down a sex ban in order to try and improve his racing performance. after he caves and realizes he can’t do it, you place your own sex ban to get payback. and it’s killing the both of you. 

warnings - smut

masterlist

-

carlos had been down and out with his performance recently, nervous about his impending unemployment. you knew he was stressing out and pushing himself harder than ever. every morning before the sun was even up he was out running, cycling, in the gym, you name it. you could tell he was losing his energy more than usual because your late night activities were consistent with you being only on top.

you and carlos had a very passionate and constant sex life. it was wild and lustful, a trait that didn’t waiver in your four years together. that was until recently. carlos was clearly drained and tired from his all day activities that the nightly ones had dwindled. while he was stressed, it was usually taken out on you in a pure day through night sexcapade as he fucked you every which way in every room and every position. 

your worry grew stronger as the sex stopped sporadically throughout the day and began only at nightime. even then, he was too tired to truly give you his all, ending up with you on top and exerting all the energy. riding him was nice, and you enjoyed the position, but you needed to be really fucked. thrown onto the mattress, handprints and bite marks to clean up the next morning. but all of that came to a worse halt when carlos arrived home in the evening from a day with his trainer. 

“hola, mi reina,” he sighs out, letting out a groan as he sat next to you on the couch, muscles clearly about to give out. 

“hola, mi amor,” you gently greet, leaning forward to give him a hug and kiss in greeting, “how was your workout?”

“good, i’m sore right now but i should be okay for tomorrow,” he grunts again, attempting to lean back into the couch. 

“los, are you sure you’re alright?” you ask again, your eyebrows pulling in concern, “you seem like you’re very sore,”

“no no,” he assures quickly, “i’m fine, just went a little hard today,” he cranes his neck to get a good look at you, the pain in his eyes evident as you stare into them.

“do you need a massage?” you quietly ask, beginning to run your hands down his chest and stomach, implying your intentions for a happy ending. 

“actually…” he trails off, eyes now darting everywhere but your own, “we need to talk about that,”

“what?” you ask sharply, removing your hands from his body and sitting up straight to look at him clearer. 

“my trainer thinks it’s a good idea to not have sex right now,” he lets out quickly, averting your gaze again.

“i’m sorry, what?” confusion is laced in your tone as you attempt to process what he just told you.

“he thinks that i need to save that energy, conserve it for races and training,” carlos now is bold enough to meet your gaze, regretting it instantly under your sharp stare. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you shake out with a laugh.

“mi amor, don’t be upset, please,” carlos pleads to you, “it will only be for a few months, until i get a contract for next year-,”

“MONTHS?!” your voice reaching a higher octave in surprise, “are you fucking kidding me, carlos?”

“mi amor-”

“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head and now standing up from your position on the couch, “you don’t get to ‘mi amor’ me right now, this affects both of us you know,”

“this is my career, y/n,” he lets out in a whisper, his insecurities on full display. 

“and this is our relationship, carlos,” you bite back quickly, “i hope you’re comfy on that couch, you’ll be sleeping there tonight,” with your final statement, you get up and walk upstairs to your bedroom, ready to head to sleep and hope his stupidity was all a dream. 

-

“it’s really been two weeks?” alexandra asks you as you both take a break from the bustle that was the ferrari garage during race weekend. you had already told her about the ‘ban’ last week at the other grand prix to which she was shocked and appalled that you were still standing. you and carlos fought for the first two days about it before you had come to terms with your situation. you weren’t happy about it. but you had come to terms with it. 

“two very long weeks,” you emphasize to her as you both begin your walk from the hospitality center back to the garage.

“i don’t know how you’re doing it,” she laughs, “if charles ever placed that i’d be done,”

“my vibrator and i have gotten really close,” you joke with a smile, “but really i understand carlos’ motivations, he’s freaking out about next year,”

“i’m sure,” alexandra nods in agreement, “it sucks that you have to deal with it too, though,”

“the things we do for love,” you laugh with her again. as you both continue to walk and talk about your predicament, two ferrari drivers were in the garage talking about the same thing.

“what is wrong with you?” charles asks your boyfriend, still in disbelief that he has been holding it out for two weeks. 

“i don’t know,” carlos laughs, “but it’s not working, i want to break it tonight,” he confesses to his teammate. 

“oh she’s going to be happy, i’m sure,”

“i hope,” carlos sighs, “she was pretty upset when i brought it up in the first place,”

“no shit,” charles scoffs, “i’d be pissed if alex put down a sex ban,”

“we’ve been fine since, she hasn’t been holding a grudge or anything,” carlos shrugs. 

“well good luck,” charles gives carlos a quick and firm pat on the shoulder, “you might need it,” he laughs as he walks away, leaving carlos to question the past few weeks quickly. just as he starts debating your feelings, he spots you and alex walking towards the garage, and he begins to sport his large smile. 

“hola, mi reina,” he shouts towards you, “come here,” he yells again, beckoning you closer to his hidden spot in the corner of the garage. 

“hi, baby,” you reply once you’ve reached him, his arm coming up to pull you into his body for a hug, “how’s it going?”

“good, i have to get in the car in a few,” carlos leans down to plant a few kisses to your lips, a warmth growing in your lower abdomen as he continues to roam your body with his hands, “how was alex?”

“good,” you reply, chasing his lips with yours to get some sort of relief, your own arms beginning to roam his body as well, “how’s the car feel?”

“not as good as you will tonight, cariño,” he speaks into your mouth as you both continue your pursuit of each others mouths.

“what do you mean, amor?” you ask in your sunken tone, too caught up in the feeling of his lips and hands on you to catch what he was implying.

“i mean tonight,” he moves his head to begin kissing down your neck before continuing, “the ban lifts,” he sighs out. 

“what?” you ask sharply, putting space between your bodies quickly in order to process the information. 

“we’re having sex tonight, amor. i can’t put it more simple than that,” he laughs as his nerves begin to rise, scared of your harsh reaction. 

“no, we’re not,” you direct, now moving further away from him, his arms itching forward to have you in his hold. 

“yes, we are, cariño,” he replies, pulling you into him yet again. 

“no,” you give him a cross look, stopping his actions from going further, “we’re. not,”

“why?”

“i believe you placed this ban in order to ‘train better’ and you weren’t going to lift it until you had a spot for next year?”

“mi reina, i can’t do this,” he groans in frustration, “i need you,”

“you should’ve thought about that before you started this stupid thing,” you laugh, tapping his cheek quickly before turning around to leave, “karma, my love, karma,” you leave quickly, but not before hearing a long groan come from your boyfriend, giving you a giggle as you disappear. 

-

“y/n?” carlos calls out into the hotel room. you had left the track after the race as carlos finished up with the media, giving him a kiss goodbye and assuring him that tonight nothing would happen. he had thrown a small tantrum to charles who just laughed at his behavior, giving him a stern ‘i told you so’. now back at the hotel, you had decided to give carlos some payback. after he had withheld sex, he still was coming home from his training, hot and sweaty. tempting you beyond belief. he needed to feel what you felt. so here you were, all dressed up in your best red lingerie set, where nothing would happen. 

“in here!” you call out from the bathroom. hearing his footsteps grow closer, you giggle for a second to yourself before making eye contact with him through the mirror. 

“cariño…” he trails off, raking your body with his eyes, lust overtaking his complexion within seconds. you could tell by the tent forming in his pants these were a long two weeks for him as well. 

“what?” you feign innocence with your question, widening your eyes and relishing in the effect you had on your boyfriend, four years later. 

“you know what,” he sighs out, making strides to get closer to you, but you just take the same length of strides backwards, moving away from him.

“i thought i made it pretty clear earlier, the sex ban has not been lifted,” you shake a finger at him, starting to move forward in order to push past him and out of the bathroom. his hands stop you in your attempt to slide past.

“y/n, please,” carlos tries, squeezing your hips to further his point of urgency, “you’re killing me,”

“now you know how i felt these past two weeks,” you lean in closer to really set him off with your next word whispered in his ear, “...papi,”

a loud groan escapes his lips as he squeezes your hips tighter, “mi amor,” he starts, settling his lips between yours, kissing you with the passion you had been needing the past two weeks. 

“carlos,” you squeak out, separating the two of you, “i’m tired-”

“baby-”

“this is what you wanted, remember?” you eye him pointedly, laughing to yourself at his pained expression. the same one you sported everytime you got into bed with him for another sexless night. 

“cariño, this isn’t what i want,” he pushes, trying to grasp you back into his hold as you push away from him. 

“it’s what you asked for,” you say to him as you climb into the bed, raising your ass in the right direction to catch his attention. 

“fuck, amor,” he sighs, staring at you shamelessly, basking in the moment of finally being able to appreciate your body after two long weeks, “you’ll be the death of me,”

“too bad you had to go and listen to your trainer instead of your girlfriend,” you spit back quickly, getting comfortable in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry,” he sighs again, rubbing his hand over his face before moving to sit on the end of the bed by your feet, “what will it take for you to forgive me?”

“i don’t know,” you fake ponder, “maybe in two weeks i’ll let you know,” you scoff out, winking at him before turning around in bed and closing your eyes. you hear a quiet grunt of disapproval before he heads to the bathroom in order to ready himself for bed as well. you hear the shower turn on, it’s gotta be ice cold, you think with a laugh, before drifting into sleep. 

-

“i’m telling you alex,” you giggle into your coffee the next weekend in the hospitality section, “his face has been priceless,”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this to him,” she laughs along with you, “he told charles that he has been dying,”

“that’s exactly what i was going for,” you confess with a chuckle, “i’m running out of lingerie soon, so i think i’ll switch to just totally naked, that’ll really throw him off,” alexandra just keeps laughing at your game, and encouraging you as you tell her more ideas. 

meanwhile in the garage, carlos is beyond on edge and charles knows exactly why. 

“i told you so,” charles sing-songs as he passes by his teammate. 

“shut the fuck up, mate,” carlos shakes off, running his hand through his messy hair for the hundredth time, “this is-”

“killing you, i know,” charles laughs again, “just apologize to her, grand gesture,” he attempts to provide a solution to his friend. 

“i’ve tried that,” he shrugs, “i’ve bought her bags, shoes, dinners, and nothing,”

“wow,” charles eyes widen in surprise, “are you sure the sex is good for her?”

“shut. up. charles,” carlos says through gritted teeth, “she’s just stubborn, wants me to wait the two weeks like i made her do,”

“actually that’s pretty fair-” charles begins, but stops abruptly as carlos’ left shoe comes hurling at his head, “hey! i’m not the one who gave you the sex ban! don’t hurt me!” he cries out in laughter, running away quickly before the right shoe has a chance to be removed. 

-

the two weeks were up and you were burning. you needed carlos biblically in every way you could possibly imagine. however, the need to watch him squirm one last time tempted you completely. so there you stood - naked, oiled up, hair done, heels on - ready for carlos. 

“hola, y/n, i’m home!” carlos calls throughout your shared home as he enters. 

“i’m in the bedroom!” you call back, giddy with excitement as you hear his footsteps approaching. 

“oh, oh mi reina,” carlos stutters, stopping dead in his tracks as he tracks your body with his eyes. 

“hola, papi,” you seductively whisper, watching his eyes turn from their beautiful caramel brown to a lustful black. 

“ohhh,” he lets out in a groan, immediately dropping down to his knees, and crawling forward to be at your feet. just as he approaches, you push your heel into his shoulder, stopping him from moving closer, “mi amor…,” he sighs in a plea, moving his lips to meet your ankle, slowly trailing them up and kissing your legs in admiration. 

“carlos,” you warn as he inches closer to your heat, “i think there’s one more day on the ban,” his eyes snap up to meet yours, widening in hope for you to forget it already. 

“mi reina, please,” he whines, his lips furthering their pursuit on your thigh, “i’ll do anything, anything,”

“anything?” you ask with a smirk, an eyebrow cocked in amusement at his desperation. 

“anything,” he breathes out, “absolutely anything,”

“no more sex bans,” you start, your boyfriend already nodding his head in agreement, “you fuck me everynight,” you keep going, carlos still shaking his head as his lips don’t stop their attack on your leg, “and you fuck me good tonight, papi,” you finish, him already climbing up your leg in urgency to reach the place he needed once given the green light. 

his lips meet yours after leaving a trail on your entire body, you hum and moan into the kiss as his hand climbs up your body and begins to grip your neck. pushing your head to the side, his lips migrate to your neck, biting and sucking in the places he knows will keep pretty sounds leaving your mouth. 

“mm,” he grunts, pushing his thigh in between your legs, leading you to let out another silky moan and grind down onto his jeans, “y/n,” he chokes out, “on the bed,” he directs. you eagerly move away from him and slide onto the bed. as you start to remove your heels, he pulls your hand away quickly, “leave them on,” he sighs out as you just smirk towards him. 

with the confidence of his desire for you warming your insides, you pull on the collar of his shirt, ultimately forcing him on top of you and leading his lips back to yours, he slips a moan out at your boldness. he stops only for the removal of his shirt before his lips come crashing to yours once again. 

he slides his hand down your body, giving your nipple a tight pinch on his way before meeting his desired destination. once his hand cups your heat, your moan echoed the walls as you hadn’t felt anything but your toys for a month. and they were not nearly comparable to your boyfriend. 

“i’ve barely touched you, amor,” he chuckles out between your kisses. 

“shut up,” you bite back, “it’s been a month,”

“i know,” he breathes, lips moving back to your neck, him relishing in the sound of your sweet moans as his fingers get to work, “so wet for me, reina,”

“only for you, papi,” you choke out in between your moans. he slips his digits up and down your folds a few times, gathering your wetness on his fingers before slowly, too slowly, entering you. he drowns out your moans with his lips on yours, pumping his fingers faster as his thumb comes up to rub your sensitive bud. 

“need you, papi,” you moan out, “need you inside of me,” 

“i know, mi amor, i know,” he shushes you a little bit, kissing you lightly as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, “i want to savor you,”

“do i need to tell you how long it’s been again?” you desperately moan, arching your back into him as he hits your spot. carlos moans along with you, reveling in your need for him and how easily he can get you undone. 

“no need for that, amor,” he shakes off with a laugh. pulling his fingers out of you, they meet his mouth as he tastes the sweetness of you he had missed for weeks. he lets out a guttural moan, and he begins to remove his pants. taking them off in one swift motion, his length slaps up to meet his stomach as you attempt to not drool at the picture in front of you. scrambling towards your boyfriend, you start to make a motion in order to give him the same attention he gave you, ready to be on your knees and ready for him. only for his hands to grab your waist, tossing you backwards onto the bed.

“do i need to remind you how long it’s been?” he asks you, mocking your question from earlier. you sit up on your forearms, watching as he crawls across the bed to be on top of you, meeting your lips in a kiss. you get so caught up in the kiss, carlos’ movements to enter you were lost as your brain fogged in lust. 

“are you ready, mi reina?” he quietly asks, rubbing his length in between your folds. 

“si, papi,” you seductively eye him after your answer, his eyes rolling back as he moves forward to kiss you again. as he enters inside of you, both of your moans paint the walls of your bedroom. 

“fuck, y/n-”

“aye, carlos-”

his pattern begins slow, the movements beginning to warm you up as you stretch to fit him perfectly. his lips attack your neck as your hands pull on his back, you scratching, him biting. both of you moaning in the bliss you had been missing for weeks. 

“oh, oh baby,” he breathes, movements quickening as he gains his rhythm. carlos pulls back slightly from you, moving an arm next to your head in order to hold himself up as he pounds into you harder. your back involuntarily arches, pushing your breasts to meet his chest, sweat mixing together as well as your moans. 

“mi-mi amor,” he stutters out, and you recognize immediately what he’s about to tell you, “i know it’s soon but-”

“i know, carlos, me too,” you breathe out, the warmth in your tummy heating up as you feel your aching ready to be released. 

“with me, baby, with me,” he grunts out, his pace now sloppy as he attempts to bring you towards your high with him. 

“mhm,” was all you could let out, your nails now digging further into his back, “‘m close,” 

“c’mon, mi reina,” he stutters out, his high coming quick, “now, baby,” he breathes out in haste. you both collapse into each other, a sweaty pile of moans and kisses as you begin to come down from your high. 

as you both lay there, carlos still inside you, he kisses your forehead and starts moving some of your hair away from your face. you finally kick off your heels and kiss carlos in between catching your breath. 

“you do know we need to go again, right?” you laugh out through the kisses. 

“oh we’re going all night, y/n,” carlos reassures you, kissing you again. 

“good,” you giggle, “and never again will this happen,”

“never, mi amor, never,”

-

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

do you have any headcanons for arguing and making up? i’m a slut for angst with comfort 🙈

Making Up After a Fight

Gender Neutral Language!

Genre: slight angst, fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, and Sean MacGuire Warnings: Dutch is kind of toxic | Not edited

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get these written! I went through some nasty writer's block and decided to play the game a little to help out but all that did was distract me for a week. This is definitely pretty roughly written - I'm also a huge slut for angst with comfort, though, so I hope you like these! <3 ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Arthur gets frustrated easily when he feels like he’s not being listened to or understood. It’s not really anyone’s fault, but his emotions can get the better of him and he’ll say something that he doesn’t mean.

“You got bait for brains or are you just being an idiot for fun?” (or something like that)

You know in the back of your head that he doesn’t mean it, and he regrets it the second the syllables bounce off his lips. Your brain can know something but your heart will still hurt all the same.

Usually when Arthur is getting too big for his britches with you, you can shut him down and put him in his place. It’s something he highly respects about you - not putting up with his bullshit when he gets like that. Sometimes, though, your eyes will start to water and you can’t say anything without feeling a lump in your throat constricting your vocal chords.

You have to turn and walk away or else you’ll cry in front of him. That would just make everything worse.

Seeing your form retreating, knowing that you’re running off because you’re hurt rather than angry, made Arthur’s chest grow heavy with guilt. His first instinct is to follow after you and hold you until you’re feeling better.

But since he’s the one who hurt you, he just lets you walk away and he goes to pout since he thinks he deserves to be outcast for a little while.

He’ll give you as much space as he can bear, avoid you for an hour maybe two, but he comes crawling back with those puppy dog eyes and a singular wild flower in his fist.

He’ll go to his cot where you’re sitting with his hat in your lap. You stopped being upset five or ten minutes after the argument. Once you took a few deep breaths you understand, but you also had to understand that Arthur would come back to you after he was done punishing himself.

So you waited.

When you saw him approach with that sheepish expression and slouched posture your heart bled for him. He was a brute and an ass at times, but he meant well.

“’M’sorry, Darlin’,” He’d mumble and get on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean it, I never mean it.”

He places the flower in your lap by his hat and gazes up at you. His hair is long and falling in front of his eyes a little, so you brush the strands away from his forehead to get a better look at him.

His blue eyes are a little red and there’s a deep crease in his forehead from an hour or so of constant worrying.

“You can be so mean sometimes, Arthur Morgan,” You scold him lightly and he sighs, nodding.

“I know.”

He spends the rest of the week making it up to you. Truly it doesn’t matter exactly what was said or what the argument was about, when you are truly hurt by his words/actions it kills him. He’ll punish himself for a bit then come back ready to spoil you with words, presents, kisses, and anything else you could possibly ask for.

John Marston:

He’s constantly arguing with you about something. A lot of the time he just picks at you to get a rise out of you - he thinks it’s funny.

Things can get out of hand quickly with him if he grates on a nerve of yours and you bite back though. His first instinct is to give a smartass retort and it just spirals into a full-blown fight from there.

“John Marston you are a pig!”

You storm off and hide in your tent for a while. He’s just standing there dumbfounded. He starts asking himself why he let it get to that point, why did he have to open his big ol’ mouth and antagonize you?

He tries to get you to talk to him, he’ll pace in front of the tent and start calling your name nicely. He won’t ever open the flap though, he doesn’t want to invade your space and risk riling you up anymore.

When you ignore him he’ll eventually get the hint and wander off.

He tries to figure out something to do while he thinks about how to make it up to you. He offers to help Arthur out with any bounty hunts or little jobs, he’ll offer to take Bill or Lenny into town, or he’ll just pick up extra shifts of being on lookout for the camp.

When you finally come out he has to restrain the urge to run to you and scoop you up, demanding that you forgive him so that he can stop pouting.

He does drop whatever it is he’s doing to approach you and makes small talk to test the waters.

“How are you?”

“Fine, John.”

“That’s good… You still mad at me?”

You roll your eyes and try to walk away, but he shoots out and grabs your hand before you can get too far. He doesn’t hold you tightly; his fingers gently encase your own, if you wanted to leave you could easily. But, you falter with your back turned to him and wait for him to speak.

“I’m sorry, really. You know I’m an idiot.” He’s practically whining as he says it, begging for you to look at him.

You turn your head slightly to give him a side glare. At first, the sight makes his heart drop into his feet and he thinks he really screwed up this time, but when a small smirk starts to quirk the corner of your mouth upwards he lets out a low sigh.

“You are cruel,” He chuckles and tightens his grip as he pulls you into his arms and wraps you up in a bear hug.

Your laughs are loud and genuine as he twirls you around, pressing chaste kisses to your cheeks as he does so. Your voices echo throughout the camp once again.

Everyone in camp knows what’s going on with you and John whether you’re fighting or making up, your business is everyone else’s.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

I want to start out by saying Dutch never actually apologizes when you two fight. He’ll buy gifts, say pretty words, whisper sweet nothings, and all the like, but the words “I’m sorry” have never left that man’s lips in his entire life. He will not start now.

Dutch’s obsession with the O’Driscoll’s can cloud his judgment on many things, it makes him blind to reason. Further than that, it makes him hateful and sometimes just plain mean.

He trusts you, he loves you. So, you’re stuck listening to his plans and his grievances with the gang, the law, the O’Driscoll’s, and any other misfortune he has had to endure in his life.

He’ll go on and on, plotting, groaning, whining. One night, after being sat on his cot for hours, you’ve had enough. You beg him to do anything but complain and come up with a half-brained plan to get rich quick.

It hits a nerve and he blows a fuse.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake, do you?” He’s practically yelling. “It’s so easy for you - I spoil you!”

You’re stunned into silence as he shouts at you. You didn’t expect him to blow up.

“Get out of my tent, get out of my sight!” He sends you away. In a daze you stumble out of the tent and into the dark camp.

There’s a few people still up wandering around. Mary-Beth is singing by the fire and Kieran is trying to sing with her, but doesn’t really know the words. Your feet start moving on their own and you take a seat across from the two at the fire.

“What’s going on, gunslinger?” Karen shuffles to a seat beside you and settles down. Mary-Beth’s singing falters for a minute but she continues on, just quieter.

“Dutch is pissed.” You mumble, staring into the flames.

“When is he not? Have a drink,” Karen shoves a bottle of beer into your hand and watches as you take a long swig. She continues, “Have some fun without him for once.”

The night takes a turn from there. You sing and dance and laugh. A few more people join in until it’s gone from moping around the fire to a proper party around it. Javier even brings out the guitar. The noise is enough to draw Dutch from the dark hole in his tent to see what’s going on.

When he sees you, the tears on your cheeks have dried and your face is flushed from the drinks, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. To him, afterall, you were just naive. You didn’t understand what was truly going on in the camp, didn’t understand his plans.

He creeps out of the tent and sneaks up behind you as you’re dancing along to Javier and Mary-Beth. When a pair of arms wraps around your waist, you let out a little squeal.

Dutch spins you around so that you’re facing him, your bodies pressed flush together causing a heat to flare in your stomach.

“My beautiful dancer,” Dutch mumbles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t fight, don’t ask any questions. You’re just happy that he seems to be sorry for what he did. He’s holding you after all of that, kissing you. He must be sorry, and so are you.

When he pulls back you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry, Dutch.” You whisper.

“Hush now,” He starts swaying as he holds you, leading you into a dance.

Your fight is practically forgotten by the end of the night. In the early hours of the morning, everyone is stumbling back to their respective beds. Stomachs are full and heads will be aching come noon, but to you it was all worth it. So long as you and Dutch aren’t fighting anymore.

Javier Escuella:

He hates fighting. I mean not in general, but just with you.

He won’t allow himself to be taken advantage of or walked all over, but if there’s some stupid argument that’s making you mad he will roll over and apologize. Just to keep the peace.

He loves you more than he loves being right, and if it makes you happy to just admit that then so be it.

When y’all do fight, though, it’s over something big. Stupid quarrels are so rare that the first time anyone catches wind that the two of you had a falling out it shocks half the camp to the core.

Javier would only truly get upset with you in a life or death situation. Like when you decided to not tell anyone you were heading into town really quick and met a few O’Driscoll’s in the general store.

When you saw them you recognized them as few that had gotten into a fight with Javier in town a few weeks ago. Javier let them walk away to save face, there was a large group of witnesses that would have pretty much guaranteed him an execution if he had taken their lives.

Your heart skipped a beat as one of them turned to look at you, but they left shortly after you entered the store and you prayed that would be the end of it.

After you finished at the store, though, you walked through the door to find the three men standing in the road before you. Their arms were folded across their chests and their legs spread in a dominant stance.

You clutched the items you bought to your chest and tried walking away from the trio, but one of them called out and made you stop in your tracks.

“You’re one of Dutch’s people ain’t you?” The tallest one said. It wasn’t really a question, he knew who you were.

“And what’s it to you, mister?” You shot back, reaching for the dagger in your belt.

“I’ve got a few questions for you about your boss.” The three of them started moving towards you. They surrounded you and backed you to the wall of the general store. You whipped out your dagger to tell them to back off, but it wouldn’t do much against three of them - you knew that and so did they.

The only reason you had made it out of that situation without even a scratch was because Arthur happened to be riding through town on his way back to camp and noticed the commotion.

He brought you back to camp, and that’s where you saw Javier standing at your cot with this arms crossed and a scowl darkening his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He practically shouts at you.

You didn’t mean to, you held them back as long as you could, but tears start flowing freely down your face in large, hot drops.

Javier’s scowl disappears almost immediately. He didn’t expect you to cry. Maybe yell back or explain yourself, but not cry. He drops his arms and grabs both of your hands in his.

“Are you okay?” His voice is low and laced with worry. Arthur got to him first and told him what happened briefly, so he knew you weren’t physically hurt, but other than that he didn’t know what happened.

“They surrounded me. I was - I was so scared, Javier.” Your throat was thick and it was hard to speak. Javier embraced you, rubbing your back and holding the back of your head as you cried harder into his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” He assures you and presses soft kisses into your hair.

He spends the next few days feeling guilty for being mad at first.

You tell him you understand his reaction and that you were sorry,but he just says sorry back to you and claims he shouldn’t have been angry when you were scared.

You’re both equally sorry, I guess.

After that, though, Javier refuses to let you go anywhere alone. You don’t have to go with him but you have to have a traveling buddy in case anything like that happens again.

Charles Smith:

Doesn’t fight with anyone, really.

Sure, you can get mad at him and yell and hold a grudge, but he just lets you figure your emotions out from afar if that’s what you need. He gives you space when you need it, attention when you want it, and does anything that he can for you.

He loves you more than anything in the world, so when you’re mad at him it eats away at his insides until you make up. He’s literally the consent king, though, and will wait for you to come to him before he initiates anything.

It feels like he doesn’t care sometimes. It drives you crazy that he doesn’t chase after you and try to make up with you then and there or rectify the situation immediately, which turns into another argument.

“Do you even give a shit what I feel?” You frown at him one morning after a small argument that he just brushed off from the night before. He assumed since you slept with him in his bedroll, that meant you were over it.

“I love you! What are you talking about?” He rubs at the little stubble on his chin in exasperation.

“You never listen you just say ‘okay’ and move on. You don’t learn that way, Charles. You roll over and the same thing will keep happening because you aren’t listening.” You try to explain yourself. Charles nods but you can’t tell if he actually gets what you’re trying to convey since he never acknowledges it more than that.

You sigh and get up.

“I need a minute, come talk to me when you can.” You walk away from him and towards Miss Grimshaw doing the laundry.

Charles just stays where he is and lets out a long deep sigh. He thought it would be better for him to just agree with you, it would make you happy to be agreed with rather than continuing to fight over something so trivial.

He hasn’t been with the group for a super long time, but he’s created a strong bond with Arthur. So, that’s who he goes to to ask for advice on the whole situation.

Charles relays as much as he can back to Arthur and the cowboy just starts to chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. He’s used to people coming to him for advice (he doesn’t really get why), but the situation with you and Charles came out of nowhere for him. He didn’t realize you two fought ever.

“No relationship is perfect, Charles.” Arthur suggests.

That’s literally no help to him so Charles walks off and tries thinking what to do. He comes up with nothing, though. Which makes him frustrated.

He starts walking towards you. You look up and see his determined face and scrunched brow and excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

“We need to talk.” He says, his words are intense but his gaze is still soft. You aren’t scared of him anyways.

“I think we do.” You reply and follow him to a private area right outside of camp.

The whole time he goes off about how he doesn’t get what you want from him. What you expect him to do or say when you get mad or annoyed.

“I just want to know you care about me and my emotions.”

“Dear, I care about you more than anything in the world. More than life itself, why do you question it?” He’s basically pleading with you to understand him, to finally see that just because he isn’t as forward with every single thought (good or bad) on his mind doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you or your emotions.

It takes little to no time for you to throw your arms around him in an embrace and mumble an apology into his hair.

Even your big fights aren’t really fights.

Sean MacGuire:

Sean does stupid stuff all the time. Literally he does stupid stuff more often than he does anything smart.

Especially when he’s drunk.

One night a small group of some of the gang decided to head into the saloon in town for a drinks for the night. You and Sean were always up for a good time and tagged along - obviously.

It presented opportunity for a little pickpocketing as well (if you didn’t get too drunk and sloppy to do it).

Everything went well for the first hour. Drinks were shared among the group and laughs were bellowing through the air with a contagious warmth. Better yet, no one seemed to be testing the waters and starting a bar fight.

Sean had his arm around you the entire night. He claimed it was to let all the scoundrels at the bar know that you were his and no one should even try to stake a claim to you.

You rolled your eyes but stayed nestled in the spot.

That is, until you were pulled away by your bladder. All the drinks were catching up to you and you slipped from under him to run to the restroom really quick.

When you came back, though, a working woman had taken advantage of your absence to catch Sean’s attention.

In his drunken state, Sean couldn’t even realize that the weight of the woman beside him wasn’t the same as when you were sitting there before. He didn’t say a thing as her arms wrapped around his torso or when she ran her fingers through his longish hair.

Tears fill your eyes almost instantly. You try to blink them away and get a better look at the scene in front of you, but it doesn’t change. It only gets worse as her lips start leaving rougey red stains on his neck.

“Sean!” You shove at his shoulder. When he sees you in front of him, his bleary red eyes turn to the woman beside him. His brain takes a minute to put two and two together, but by the time he has figured the situation out you are pushing through saloon patrons to get out into the night air.

Sean sobers up immediately. He pries himself out of the grasp of the other woman and follows your trail out the door.

He calls your name over and over again until he finally finds you sitting on the street corner crying into your knees.

“Please, Love!” He approaches you and your head whips up at the sound of his voice.

“You stay away from me you dog.” You snap and get up. You’re still pretty drunk as well however and you wobble and nearly fall over at the sudden movement.

Luckily Sean catches you by the arm before you can tumble into the dirt.

“I didn’t know she was there, honest. Thought you was there beside me.” He lifts a hand to your cheek, ready to brush away some of your tears, but you turn your cheek and shrug him off.

“Sure.” You say and try to walk away. He catches your arm again and turns you towards him once more.

“Honest, Love. Why would I pay for sex anyways - I’ve not a penny to me name and you give it to me for free.”

The sentiment was there, but definitely not the right thing to say.

You have to physically restrain yourself from hitting him upside the head at his words.

He sees the struggle on your face as soon as he says it and clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Sean MacGuire you bastard!” You shout at him, but can’t help a weak laugh from erupting from your throat at the end.

“I didn’t mean that, oh lord I didn’t.” The terror in his face only causes you to laugh harder.

The laughter surprises him and even yourself, so much so that the both of you are laughing. Though you don’t really understand why.

“If you ever-“ You say with a mocking glare, “Ever do something like that or say something like that again, I am leaving you Sean MacGuire.”

“I wouldn’t blame you one bit,” He says somberly, still with a small smile.

<><><><>

I didn't write for Sadie because I genuinely could not think of a situation for her or how she would be, my brain died halfway through writing Sean's. I'll just have to write some Sadie focused hc's next time teehee~

[lolitastories]

Ocean blue

Rafe Cameron

As I stood one step behind Rafe and our daughter, I felt like their bodyguard. He always wanted to have her in his arms. He didn’t feel the need to use her stroller, so it always stayed in the trunk. He would look back every so often to make sure I was close by but most importantly, he made sure to catch every moment, expression, or action from our daughter. “Don’t get her too close to the glass” I warned. But just as I said it he squatted down with her close enough to touch the glass. He grins back at me before turning to see our daughter so fazed with the creature in front of her. I step back taking a seat on the wooden bench and just watch those two.

“Can you imagine them living amongst dinosaurs?” My head snaps to my right as a man takes the seat beside me. “Of course they developed over the years but it's incredible to think of how far back they go.”

“And now you have them here” I plainly point towards the glass. “Living behind a glass where people pay to come and see them.” The guy laughs shaking his head.

“If you think they deserve better, why come see them?”

“Call me a hypocrite,” I smile. “I like to think these places are made up of animals we have helped. Maybe that small turtle was saved and would never be able survive out there in the wild.”

“A nice way to see things,” He lets out a sigh. “But still pessimistic?”

“Oh yes” I laugh. “It’s second nature to me. People can be so deceiving that it's easier to never truly put your trust on someone.”

“Talking from experience?” I turn my head to look at him. My smile turned into a bit of a frown. His mood shifted really quickly, noticing my change. “You seem like a person who believes in second chances?”

“I believe things can be made right, but I also believe a person should know their value. Trust should be sacred. If you decide to trust someone it could either make you noble or a fool for falling for the same trick twice.”

“And you don’t want to make that mistake twice because you’re scared of the pain?” I shake my head letting out a quick laugh. “In my books it doesn’t make you a fool to trust again, it simply means you are a human with a big heart.”

“Guess we just differ in opinions.” He smiles nodding along.

“We should meet up to see if that is true, maybe in a couple of years it will be the same?” I look over feeling my smile die down. I take a deep breath ready to respond when someone cuts me off.

“I think not.” Our heads turn to see Rafe standing there. “Our daughter wants to visit the shop.” His eyes rolled over to mine. Dead expression on his face.

“I don’t mean to cause any trouble-”

“Then walk away.” I gasp at Rafe's response. I was about to grab his hand and pull him away when he turned towards me and handed over our daughter. As I adjusted her in my arms I am faced with his back.

“I-” I see the man stretch to the side with pleading eyes to look at me but of course Rafe blocks him. He moves forward with each hand grabbing a fist full of the man's collar.

“Look dude. I am trying to have a nice day with my family and you are ruining it. You are some creepy guy who comes to places like these alone to what? Pry on women hoping they give you some attention?”

“Rafe stop.” I demanded placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Look man I just saw her sitting there and she looked a bit down,” What? I looked down? People said I have a resting bitch face but I didn’t know it made me look depressed, what the fuck.

“Your mistake.” Rafe continues. “Now that I am here you can move along and bother someone else, this one is mine.” He lets him go with a little shove. I stay quiet knowing and hoping it won’t escalate. The man fixes his shirt and with a last glance towards me he walks away.

“Seriously?” I say watching Rafe walk to where I was standing. “You didn’t have to do all of that.” He doesn’t respond. He simply takes a hold of my hand and begins to drag me somewhere. “Rafe,” I say a little louder trying to get his attention. He swiftly dragged us between the crowd until we stopped in front of the family bathroom.

“In.” He opened the door and motioned for me to get in but I just stood there. I raised one brow thinking how crazy he was acting and childish. “Can you please get in?” I rolled my eyes and got in. I shake away the small grin knowing it wasn’t the time to acknowledge his cute plea. I wait for him to close the door and lock it. “I heard you two talking.”

“Rafe you know I wouldn’t-”

“I wasn’t talking about him.” He stays put in the doorway. I search his eyes for any clue, until it hits me. “Are you ever going to trust me?” His voice was almost a whisper. “You don’t say it but I know the reason for you breaking up with me and putting me on trial to be in our daughter's life was because of my past.” I was left speechless. My cheeks were burning and my bones were aching to just touch him. I saw how pain flashed in his eyes but I couldn’t find the words. “You would have hated who I was back then and who’s to say I won’t go back to being that person again. My father was a bad man but I loved him.” His last word made his voice crack. “I don’t want her to live through that and hate me,” His head falls down but I notice a small tear rolling down his cheek. “I don’t want to live knowing you always have a foot out the door.” That's when he broke down into a cry.

“Rafe,” I swallowed the pain in my throat and walked over to him. I grabbed his hand and led him to the single couch in the room. “Look at me Rafe.” I kneel in front of him. I lifted his chin a bit to search for his eyes. Once I saw his eyes focus on me I moved our daughter to his lap. “I can’t tell you that it didn’t play a part in my decision because it did.” His chest was breathing heavily. “But it didn’t make me stop trusting you, ever.” Both of my hands were holding his cheeks making sure he didn’t look away. I move my thumbs to clear up the remainder of his tears. “Baby I fell in love with the man you became after so much pain. You did that on your own before we met and after seeing you become a father, I know you won’t ever do anything to make her and I hate you.”

“But you don’t even look at me the same.” I grinned hearing his childlike whine. I move closer between his legs.

“I don’t look at you the same because you keep changing on me for the better.” I begin to smile bigger. “I fell in love with a 20 year old boy who was building a life for himself. Then again as a 24 year old man who became the father to our little girl. Now I have a chance to see what kind of person you will become as we grow older together but trust me, the only change you see in my eyes is how my love just keeps getting bigger and bigger for you.” I lift my head giving him a quick kiss. “Those blue eyes have become my favorite blues to see.”

“Not the ocean?” He says quietly.

“No, ocean blue doesn’t even come close.” He nods softly before fixing his down posture. “Are you okay?” He flickered his eyes down towards me as he nodded. But when I tried to get up with one hand he kept me from standing up. He leans forward and as I try to pull away but his free hand moves from my shoulder to the back of my head.

“You need to be more careful when talking to strangers,” What am I, 10?. “I held back because our daughter was nearby, but don’t go making friends with strangers, especially men.” I roll my eyes as I let out a chuckle. “You two are mine to protect.” I move forward resting my forehead against his.

“She is ours to protect,” I say challengingly. His piercing eyes don’t change showing how he was not amused with my answer. “I won’t do it again.” I groaned, pulling away from him. “Can I get up now? My knees are killing me”

“I don’t know why. You have always been good on your knees.” I scoff pushing him away.

“You're an idiot.” I hear him laugh as I pick myself up. “Now let's go because there is an otter plushie that has my name on it.” I hear the couch creek as he stands and walks over to the door. I turn around to face Rafe, one hand on the handle behind my back as he stares down at me. “I love you so much.” I whisper quietly and slowly. His eyes move to my right and then the left a couple of times. “Don’t forget it.” I simply state. I turn and push the door open but his hand grips mine and pulls it close. His face right beside me ear,

“Woman if I didn’t have my daughter in my arms right now I would fuck you against this very door. Don’t go saying things like that when I can’t do anything about it.” He takes a step back allowing me to focus back on opening the door. I tried to swallow but my mouth was left dry. Of course Rafe was enjoying it. He wrapped his free arm around my neck and led us to the shop with a grin on his face.

“Fuck the store” I stop in my tracks. Shivers were literally circulating around my body.

“What?” Is he stupid?

“We can come tomorrow to get her a stuffed animal. Let's go home. She needs to nap.” I didn’t care how desperate I looked or sounded. I needed Rafe. These people should be grateful I have enough self restraint to hold myself back but it wouldn’t be for long.

“What about the otter-?”

“Fuck the otter Rafe.” I looked around a little embarrassed as I spoke a little too loudly. I walked closer making sure no one was going to hear me. “I am giving you a chance to go home and fuck me Rafe.” His eyes widened. “You can fuck me until you put another baby in me. I need you,” I look up with pleading eyes hoping to get him on the same page.

“Yes ma’am.” And with Rafe, it didn’t take much.

[honeys-hotties]

Spilling the Tea

Mapi Leon x fem!Reader

Here it is!!! My first fic in a million years (it def feels like it)! All of the love in the world to all of you reading, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.7k

My knee bounces up and down uncontrollably as I sit smushed against the window of the bus. I can’t help it. The pre-match nerves always seem to get the better of me, and today is obviously no exception. Today, however, they are much more justified. Today is the Euro quarter-final. Spain vs England. Two superpowers of football going head to head. And I can’t seem to calm myself down.

Lucy reaches over from her spot next to me, and places her large hand on my knee, effectively stopping the bouncing.

“Hey,” she says, looking at me. “I know you’re nervous. We’re all nervous. But all we can do is go onto that pitch today and bring everything we have. You always do that, so you have nothing to worry about.”

I reach down to grasp her hand in mine, overcome by a rush of love for the older woman sitting next to me. Lucy has been my best friend on the England squad (even over my sister Leah, though I would never tell her that), and I genuinely don’t know what I would do without her. Playing for the Chicago Red Stars these past few years have been tough, mainly because I’ve been away from my family and friends for so long. But Lucy always made an effort to call me as often as she could from Barcelona, checking in on me and just being the best friend anyone could ask for.  

“Thanks, Luce.” I say, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Anything for you, Williamson #2” she responds. I yank my hand away from her as she starts laughing. “Awwww, don’t be like that,” she pouts, slinging her arm around my shoulders. “Play nice, or I won’t introduce you to any of my Barca teammates.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I say, jokingly pushing her away. She grips me tighter, and pulls me into her side, laughing.

“Oh, please!” she says. “You’re too in love with half of them to risk an introduction by yours truly!”

My face turns bright red, and I start sputtering, trying to come up with an excuse. Before I can, Ella pipes up from the seat in front of us, turning her entire body around to look at me, with my tomato face and messy hair from Lucy’s wild arms, and Lucy herself who is smirking like the cat who caught the canary.

“I agree with Y/N on this one, some of those Spanish players are FIT” she yells, causing pretty much everyone else to turn and look at us.

“My baby sister thinks who’s fit?” Leah asks from somewhere in front of us. Before I have a chance to try to calm the storm, Ella pipes up again:

“Your “baby sister” is in love with half of Lucy’s Spanish teammates, that’s who. Although, in all honesty, I really can’t blame her. I mean, have you SEEN Alexia? The things I’d let her do… OUCH” Ella trails off, although an elbow courtesy of Alessia, her seatmate, has her breaking out of her daydream. The rest of the bus explodes in laughter, and I bury my face in Lucy’s shoulder.

“What’d you have to go and do that for, Luce?” I whine. She chuckles and pets my hair contentedly. “I mean, was I wrong babes?” she asks. “The number of times you’ve asked me about Mapi alone definitely served as a heads up.” Before I can say anything else, the bus pulls to a stop, and everyone stands up, ready to head off. 

The next few hours pass in a blur of warming up, running drills and strategies, and trying to get everyone into a good mood pre-match. I’m playing DJ, and have my phone hooked up to the locker room speakers while the rest of the girls mess around, waiting for Sarina to tell us what to do. I make my way over to Lucy who is sitting in her cubby with her phone out, furiously typing away. Right as I make my way in front of her, she stands up, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the locker room and down the hall. 

“What are you doing, Bronze?” I ask her as she takes a couple of turns and speeds up through the hallway.

“Helping you meet your future wife, Williamson” she responds. “I was texting Patri, FYI. Her and a couple of my other teammates wanted to see me before we all end up in the tunnel. Plus, they want to meet this famous bestfriend that I always talk about.”

“I-what? We’re seeing them right now?”

“Yup!” she exclaims, slowing down in front of a door that’s propped slightly open. “Right now. So I suggest you pull yourself together. Keep a clear head before the match and all that. Here,” she hands me the travel mug that had been in her other hand. “Hold this while I call Patri.”

She presses a couple of buttons while I take a sip from her mug. “This is really good, Luce.” I tell her as she puts the phone on speaker, the ringing echoing down the hallway. “I might need you to make me a cuppa when we get back, this is a hundred times better than the hotel drinks.”

Just before the line rings out, the door in front of us opens all the way, and there, right in front of us, stands Patri Guijarro, Claudia Pina, Jenni Hermoso. Ona Batlle, and Mapi Leon. Lucy pockets her phone in favor of greeting her teammates, who rush towards her and form a huge group hug, chattering over each other as Lucy laughs in the middle. They break apart, and Lucy grabs me, pulling me forward towards them. 

“Allow me to introduce my very best friend ever, the one and only Y/N Williamson” she says proudly, pushing me towards them.

“It is nice to finally meet you,” Jenni says, stepping forward to give me a hug. “Lucy talks so much about you we feel as though we already know you!”

Claudia, Patri, and Ona all give me hugs as well, before Mapi pulls me into one of her own. As soon as she wraps her (Insanely strong) arms around me, I feel my face starting to heat up again. I’ve always had a slight crush on Mapi, Lucy definitely got that right, but right now, being held by the taller Spanish woman, I have to keep from pinching myself to make sure this is really happening. Mapi finally lets go (although I wish she wouldn’t), but brings her hands to my waist, looking directly into my eyes. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now,” she tells me. “I am so glad that it finally happened.”

“I-I am too,” I say, cursing myself when I stutter slightly. “I only wish it was under better circumstances. Mapi lets her hands trail away from me, staring at me quizzically. 

“These are not good circumstances?” she asks. Oh, God, her accent. Just kill me now, please and thank you.

“Well, yeah,” I smirk. “I just hope things don’t get awkward when we beat you!”

Mapi scoffs. “We’ll see, princesa.”

The Spanish girls laugh, and start talking over each other all at once, before Lucy cuts them off: “Yeah, alright, talk smack after you give me my tea back, Williamson.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” I retort, taking another sip of the mug that has been clutched in my hand. “You’ve already had so much already, Luce!”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s mine,” she bites back, making grabby hands for the mug. “I’ll make you tea later, but you have to let me finish this now.”

I relent, handing her the mug and turning back to Mapi who has an insanely attractive smirk on her face. “You are not really arguing over a cup of tea, are you?”

I nod, and her smile widens incredulously. “Tea is disgusting!” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. “I do not understand you Brits. It is like you have tea running through your veins at this point! When will you realize coffee is infinitely better”

“Hey!” I respond, frowning playfully. “Tea is a million times better than coffee! You can’t even compare them. Besides-” but my rant is cut off by Lucy’s phone ringing loudly through the hallway. I turn to look at her, she looks up with a look of pure pure horror on her face. Wordlessly, she shows me the phone screen, where I see an incoming call from “Captain Lee-Lee” displayed across the screen. Leah must be furious with us for running away, and we both know we’re about to suffer the consequences. Lucy grabs my hand, and we bid the Spanish girls good luck before sprinting back towards our locker room, too fast to see the look filled with longing Mapi sends my way. 

We arrive at the door out of breath and stressed out beyond belief, to find Leah waiting outside, eerily calm. She is dressed in her kit, captain’s armband secured tightly around her bicep. Lucy opens her mouth to explain, but Leah cuts her off. “Go. Now.” she says firmly, pointing towards the locker rooms. I pull Lucy with me into the changing room, passing the rest of the team as we do so. I rush to my cubby, changing out of my warmup gear and into my match kit. I’m pulling my hair up into a ponytail when Tooney sits down in the cubby next to mine. “So…” she starts, wiggling her eyebrows. “Wanna tell me where you and Lucy ran off to?”

“We hooked up with three of the Spanish players” I tell her seriously, and her jaw drops for a second before she swats my arm. 

“You fucking wish, Williamson!” she says, and I roll my eyes. Is she wrong? No. Do I want her to say it? Absolutely not. “We were just saying hi to some of Lucy’s friends, and we lost track of time” I say, pulling the strands of my ponytail into a braid. “That’s all.”

Ella stands up and links her arm through mine as we make our way towards the tunnel, falling into line behind Alessia and Mary. Ella smirks, but knows better than to say anything. This close to the match, all of my energy must be focused on what I can do to play the best. We get to the tunnel, and I take my place behind Lucy. I zone out for a moment, thinking about the plays we had run earlier, but am brought back to reality by a hand on my waist, spinning me to the side. There stands Mapi, a smirk prominent on her face.

“Good luck out there, princesa” she tells me, reaching up to tuck a flyaway behind my ear. 

“You too, tea hater” I tell her. She snorts, and heads back to her team where I see Patri nudge her and start whispering rapidly. Lucy, who had turned around and watched the entire interaction gives me a knowing look before turning back around. 

The first 45 minutes pass in a blur, with both teams scoring. Alessia with a stunning shot, courtesy of an assist from me, and Jenni for the Spanish team with a flawless goal right before the halftime whistle blew. Heading back onto the pitch for the second half, everyone is much more serious. We all know what is at stake, and neither team is willing to go down without a fight. As I bend down to adjust my shin pads right before walking onto the pitch, I feel a large hand on my lower back. I straighten and turn to see Mapi with a smirk on her face. Her hand glides from my back to my waist where she gives me a little squeeze. I feel my face heating up, but fortunately Lucy’s shout distracts me. 

“Let’s go, lovergirl! Flirt on your own time” she yells, coming up behind me and giving me a little push towards the center of the pitch. I swat her shoulder before jogging away from Mapi. Lucy stands in front of the Spanish girl, a smirk on her face. “You like her, don’t you?” Lucy asks the blonde. Mapi nods sheepishly, her cocky attitude gone. “Promise me something,” Lucy says, staring at the Spanish woman. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t treat her like one of your hookups, Mapi. Please. She deserves better than that.” Mapi nods, and the two head to their opposite sides of the pitch. The words echo around Mapi’s head as she takes her place, but the whistle breaks her out of them. Now is not the time, she scolds herself internally, turning her full focus to the match ahead. 

The second half is rough. Both teams know what is on the line, and neither is willing to go down without a fight. Spain makes what looks like a promising run towards our goal in the 80th minute, but Esther loses possession due to a perfectly timed tackle from Leah, who boots the ball down the pitch to Keira. Kei takes her time, containing the ball while I sprint to the goal. I turn and shout her name, and with a swift pass from Keira the ball is at my feet. I whip around, and line up for the perfect shot. Just as I bring my leg to the ball, I see a flash of red. Out of nowhere, Mapi slams into me, her studs catching me just above the knees. My body goes flying, and it’s like time slows. I hear the screams of the crowd. The lights of the stadium are blinding as I fly through the air. Then, all of a sudden, my body hits the ground so hard I feel the impact in my bones. The air is knocked from my lungs, and it’s all I can do to try and breathe steadily. The whistle pierces the air as Lucy runs up to me, alongside Leah. My sister drops to her knees, tears in her eyes. Wordlessly, I nod at her, and she reaches down to grab my hand. 

“I’m alright Lee, I promise,” I tell her, the air returning to my lungs. “Just a little beat up. Help me to my feet?”

She nods wordlessly, and in her silence I can hear Ella and Beth yelling at who I assume is Mapi, but can’t see from my position on the floor.

Lucy grabs my other hand, and as I’m pulled to my feet I see Mapi, who looks absolutely distraught, walking off the pitch, a red card held in her direction by the ref. The medical team arrives, and, after bandaging my leg where the gashes from Mapi’s boots had begun to leave, they head off of the pitch. 

“I want to stay on.” I tell Leah. “She barely nicked me, I’m good to keep playing, I promise.”

Leah looks at me unsurely, but can never resist the puppy-dog eyes, and eventually she sighs in resignation. “Be careful, munchkin.” she tells me, kissing me on the forehead before lining back up. The ball is put back in play, but with Spain playing with one less defender, it isn’t long before another goal finds the back of the net, this time rocketed in by Chloe. Two minutes later, the final whistle blows, and I collapse to my knees. We’d done it. We were advancing in the Euros. Lucy shouts, running up to me, picking me up, and throwing me over her shoulder. I laugh as she does a victory lap, running past all of our teammates who were in various stages of celebrating the win. As we pass Leah, I nudge Lucy to put me down, and when she does, I make my way over to my sister, who hugs me tightly, lifting me slightly off of the ground. 

“We did it!” she shouts over the noise. “Finals, here we come!” I hug her even tighter, and find a few of my other teammates before my exhaustion starts to get the better of me. I find Lucy, who insists on giving me a piggyback ride to the changing rooms, where I strip off my sweaty kit and hop in the shower. I hear the rest of my team entering the changing rooms, and someone connects their speaker, blasting music as we celebrate another win. More of the girls join me in the shower room, and just as I am drying off, I hear the main room grow quieter. All of a sudden, Lucy bounces into the shower room, a smirk prominent on her face. 

“Oi, little Williamson! You’ve got a visitor” she sings, grabbing my arm and dragging me out. I pull the towel tighter around myself, and turn to face her, abruptly stopping her from taking me any further. “What are you on about, Luce?” I ask her. “What visitor?”

I hear a throat clear, and I turn to see Mapi, still dressed in her kit, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Leah is sitting at her cubby, glaring silently at the Spanish woman, and her distrust seems to be echoed by some of my other teammates, who are less than pleased to see the woman who had injured me standing two feet away. 

“I, um, can we talk? Outside?” she asks me, and only now do I notice that her eyes are red rimmed and slightly puffy. 

“Yeah, sure” I reply uncertainly, following her as she turns and walks out of the changing room. I close the door behind me, and turn to face the taller woman, who looks absolutely heartbroken. I tentatively open my arms to her, but am filled with a rush of affection for the Spanish woman as she takes me into her arms, holding me like she thought I was going to break at any moment. She lifts me off of the ground and wraps her arms around my waist, and I feel her begin to cry into my shoulder. I hug her back even tighter, and after a moment, she sets me back onto the ground, wiping her eyes. 

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You played wonderfully, you always play wonderfully. There will be other games, I promise. This loss will only make you come back stronger, babes. You’re one of the best defenders I’ve ever played against.”

She looks at me, surprised. “You think I am sad because we did not win?” she asks. I look at her confused. “Are you not?” I ask, looking at her. She mutters something under her breath in Spanish, running one of her tattooed hands through her hair. “Of course I am, but I am more upset that I hurt you! Here you were, this perfect, beautiful, funny girl, and what did I do? I hurt you. I was not careful, and I could have easily ended your season. And now your team hates me and you probably hate me, and I always ruin things and I did not want to ruin you.” 

More tears fall from her eyes, and she looks down at her shoes. Gently, I place my hand on her arm, waiting for her to look at me. When she finally does, I smile. 

“You think I’m pretty?” I ask teasingly, smiling even more when I gain a watery chuckle from her. “I promise, you didn’t ruin anything. It was a mistake, but it could have been so much worse. And I’m tough, okay? It takes more than a bad tackle to take me out.” She nods, before pointing at the bandage on my leg wordlessly. I nod, and she kneels down in front of me, placing her hand on my leg and peeling the bandage back slightly to peek at my leg. I am suddenly self conscious of the fact that I’m standing in front of her in nothing but a towel, but these fears are put out of my mind instantly when she presses a gentle kiss on top of the bandage. Carefully, I pull her up to her feet, where she looks directly into my eyes. At this very moment, I feel like I am exactly where I need to be. I have always struggled with feeling left out, out of place. Growing up, I spent all of my time with my sister because I never found true friends that accepted me for me. When I went to Chicago I found my real friends, but it took me a long time, and I felt alone in a new country for so long. Even with my Lioness teammates, it took me some time to open up to them, to be comfortable being myself around them no matter what. But now, with Mapi, I feel like she sees right through me. Like she sees everything about me, and she accepts me for it. Without thinking, I press my lips to hers. Almost immediately I panic, thinking I misread the signals, but as I begin to pull away, she pulls me back in. 

Kissing Mapi is perfect. It is everything a kiss should be and more, and when I finally pull away, and she places her forehead against mine, I feel so overwhelmed with joy and affection I think I might burst. She brushes a strand of damp hair behind my ear, and just as she leans in, the door to the locker room opens. We spring apart as Lucy stands there, a proud look on her face. “Looks like you two are getting on pretty well” she smirks. “Now, I hate to break up the party, but we’re planning to go out for drinks. You’re welcome to join us, Maps, but Leah’s insisting we leave soon.” I nod in response to Mapi’s questioning look, and find myself barely holding back a smile when her face breaks into a blinding grin. 

“I would love to join you for a drink” she says, “as long as it is not tea.”

I let out an offended yelp, to which she snickers, dodging the swat I send her way. 

“Perfect!” Lucy shouts. “I’ll text you the address!” Mapi smiles as Lucy heads into the changing room sending me an exaggerated wink before jogging back down the hall.

“See you soon, princesa!” she shouts, and I can’t stop the smile from breaking across my face as I head back into the room. My joy is short lived, however;

“OI LEAH, YOUR BABY SIS IS SNOGGING MAPI LEON”

“ELLA, IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR MOUTH i WILL SHOVE MY BOOT SO FAR-”

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

DARK THEMES AHEAD!!!

How do you think that the CP fan favs

(Jeff, proxies, E.J. you can add if you want :D)

Would react to their S/O threatening to commit suicide (shooting themselves of stabbing) because they couldn't deal with them kidnapping and taking away their freedom or rights?

(Sorry for this depressing ask, im feeling angst-y and you're one of my fav writers on here. Cheers!)

No! I absolutely love asks like this and this is honestly some of my favorite stuff to write! Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoy! 🖤

TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD

CREEPS REACTING TO THEIR S/O TRYING TO COMMIT SUICIDE

JEFF THE KILLER:

When you stole his knife from atop his dresser he almost felt fear. Well.. He did but he’ll never admit it.

The look of wild fear and confusion was splayed all over his face as you threatened to slit your wrists right there. Right in front of him.

“I hate you! I hate you so much!” You pointed and jabbed the knife at him through heavy sobs. “I didn’t want this! I don’t want you!”

He could barely find the words. Should he take it from you? The question really was could he take it from you.

When he finally came to a conclusion he muttered roughly, “Y/N. Give me the knife.”

A simple but hopefully effective sentence

When you didn’t listen and began to press the knife to your wrist, watching the blood slowly pool. He lunged. Ripping the knife from your hands by the blade.

He didn’t care that he’d cut his hands open, blood pouring onto the carpet and his hands burning from the deep cuts.

He just wanted you safe.

You could see him wince as he looked down at his bloody hands, trying hard to play it off with a crooked smile when he looked up at you.

“Come on sweets, let’s go see EJ. He’s good with this kinda thing.”

EYELESS JACK:

He came home to you frantically looking through his medicine cabinets

He stood in the doorway silently, watching you closely to truly get an idea of what you were up to

When you poured an obnoxious amount of hefty pills into your small hand he let out a low growl. A warning one. One you’ve heard many times before when you’d try to escape

He watched you turn around with tears in your eyes

“I can’t do this anymore… Find someone else.” You choked out as you brought your hand to your mouth, letting the pills fall in

It was in an instant he was on top of you, snarling wildly. He yanked your jaw down, immediately sticking his clawed fingers down your throat.

“Throw it up!!” He shouted. It was the loudest you’d heard him speak before…

The pressure from his fingers deep in your throat brought more tears to your eyes as you threw up.

He stroked your back and held your hair as the acid and pills burned your throat coming back up

After that day, all the cabinets had heavy padlocks on them and only Jack carried the keys

TIM/MASKY:

He decided to let you drive, just this once. Just because you begged and he loved you so much he couldn’t tell you no.

You followed the route he gave you, trying to make him think you two would actually be going to the mission site.

When you began speeding up obviously far over the posted speed limit, Tim began to grow suspicious

You’d never been this eager to go on a mission.

It was only when he saw tears falling down your cheeks that he knew what was happening.

“Y/N turn the car off. Pull over. Now.”

When you didn’t do as he instructed he harshly moved to get the car to a stop. Pulling the emergency break and throwing the car into park before ripping the keys out of the ignition

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” He shouted angrily.

When you turned to look at him there was rage in your eyes. “You ruined my life!! Now I don’t want one at all!”

He felt his heart sink when he listened to you. You didn’t want him… He thought things were going well between the two of you…

It was only then that he called off this mission, ready to take whatever punishment the Operator had for him

BRIAN/HOODIE:

You’d tried this sort of thing before… He knew you didn’t like it here but he needed you. He’d wanted you for so long he couldn’t just let you go

The first time you two were on a mission you’d tried to jump from a bridge, he was lucky he grabbed you in time. Thank god he was fast…

After that day he essentially baby proofed the house, not allowing you around the other creeps and certainly not on missions anymore

One day he got sloppy though. He was tired, it was mission after mission and all he wanted to do was come home and rest by your side.

He forgot to lock up his gun like he always does. Placing it on the nightstand instead and getting into bed with you in his arms

He’s a pretty light sleeper so it was odd that you could get out of his arms and grab the gun without him knowing

It was only when he heard the click of the safety and your soft sobs that he woke up. Sitting up straight and looking around the dark room.

You were on your knees on the floor facing way from the bed, gun placed to your temple as your body shook with sobs.

He was thankful you didn’t realize he was awake. Otherwise he knew he wouldn’t have been successful in his attempt to take the gun.

When he snatched it from your hands you got up, clawing at him to get it back.

He held you to his chest, subduing you from your attacks.

“Go back to bed sweetheart.” He whispered softly, locking his gun up and taking you back to bed in his arms

“TICCI” TOBY:

You heard him coming down the hallway, back from another mission. He wasn’t stealthy in the slightest when he was home.

You tried your hardest to make it quick as you were trying to make sure the rope was secure while stepping up on the chair

“Y/N?!” Toby ran to you, snatching you off the chair.

“No!! Let me go!!” You fought him like a damn bull, kicking and flailing and scratching.

His lack of physical feeling came in handy in the situation. He pressed you down on the bed, practically sitting on you to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere

Your sobs only slightly hurt his heart. He was more upset by the fact you wanted to leave him. How could you?? Did he not give you enough? Was he not good enough for you?

“How could you do this to me?? I thought I was what you wanted!” He shouted angrily, pressing down harder when you continued to fight.

“I want nothing to do with you! You’re a fucking monster!”

He felt something inside him snap. “You’ll never leave now. You’re mine Y/N.”

[bartxnhood]

end up here | l.r.h

luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke lets his work consume him, leaving you in the dark.

warnings: angst, argument, broken bone.

w/c: 2k

a/n: hi guys ! this is kinda part of my 1.5k celebration where i go back a re-write some of my favorite fics/blurbs.

you can read the original work here

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

luke could feel himself slipping away, but he didn't know why. but the evenings were getting longer, and he found himself staying up most nights in his studio, hoping to find some serenity in his work. for hours, days, and weeks, he was writing, writing, and writing. trying to make sense of everything.

you realized he was distancing himself from you, but you supported him as best you could, knowing he needed his space and time to figure out whatever was bothering him. but all you wanted to do was talk it out with him. you wanted him to find comfort in you.

you lightly tapped the door while poking your head inside. you said, with a voice as smooth as honey, "luke, hon, dinners ready." as you left, the blonde nodded and looked up from his computer.

you sat alone at the dinner table that night, waiting for him, refusing to have dinner without him. surely he'd come out right? he'd never leave you alone for dinner.

you'd lost your appetite and stood up to clean up the kitchen. after putting all of the leftovers in tupperware, you started the dishwasher and headed upstairs to bed.

you're sleeping on your side, listening for the faint sounds of his footsteps and the door to open. you had been checking the time on and off, and he finally went to bed at three a.m. you felt his side of the bed dip and his arm go for your waist. "are you still awake?" he asks, and you could tell he was fatigued. "mhm" you hum.

you finally turn to your right side to face him, saying, "i'm worried about you." it was the first time you'd truly seen him. his eyes were dark than usual, and his curls were wild. uou've never seen him like this before, not even while he was on tour. "i'm fine, honey," he assured you. "luke.." you sigh as you brush your hand through his tangled golden curls. "please talk to me. i'm here...let me in, please." luke noticed that you were about to cry. "shh...it's okay," he said as he drew you closer. "everything is fine. i promise."

this went on for weeks; he'd either not show up to dinner or show up just as you were finishing. tiny "I'm sorry" escaped his lips as you passed past him to your shared bedroom.

the nights felt endless, he would stay up till obscene hours of the night, leaving you alone. you were curious as to what was going on; had you done anything to irritate him? if you did, why hasn't he brought it up? you'd spend those evenings sobbing yourself to sleep.

luke hadn’t noticed, he was too engulfed in his work. he didn’t realize he was breaking his number one promise to you. he replays that night over and over again while he works, because you were always the one who got him through his toughest times n

“i’ll never put my work above you, y/n/n. you’re a gift from the heavens. i promise to cherish you until the end of our days.” the two of you swayed underneath the strung fairy lights in your backyard. having celebrated your third anniversary. you both thought nothing would ever come between the two of you. “i’ll love you forever, luke hemmings.” you smiled.

he was humming and strumming while sitting in his office. he wasn't moving forward at all. and It was beginning to irritate him. he attempted to hum the remainder of the bridge, but he was having trouble. he sighed, put the instrument down, and turned to leave. his foot landed on the kitchen's chilly hardwood floor before moving into the hallway. he assumed you were viewing it when he heard quiet, incomprehensible words coming from the television.

“what’s for dinner, love?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

“nothing” you answered, followed by a sniff. he raised his eyebrows, closing the door and walking over by you.

petunia sat by your side, head in your lap. “is everything okay?”

that question alone made you frustrated, tears welled in your eyes for what felt like the millionth time, and you paused your show finally letting your emotions spill.

“luke, you've been checked out for almost two weeks. I'm exhausted," you said, wiping your eyes to divert his attention. he asserted, "i haven't," because he felt he couldn't bear the weight of his guilt. your throat let forth a dry laugh. "right. what happened to all the promises you made to help me with organizing the bedroom? what about the this morning when i had to do it myself and broke my foot, so the boys had to help me rather than my husband?” you indicated the boot that was resting on the sofa pillow. he fixed his eyes on your foot for a moment before returning them to your face as shame overcame him. your tears had made your eyes puffy and red, and the circles under them were darker than ever.

“why didn’t you call?”

“i did! calum did, ashton did, mike did! we all called and texted you while i was at the hospital. but you were too fucking busy in that goddamn studio!”

you yelled from your shared bedroom, "shit!" yhe three boys in your home were drawn to you because of your loud thud and yell. instead of luke, they came to the rescue. "shit, y/n!" ashton approached you, calum raising the bedside table. michael grabbed on to you as you drew your foot back. "can you put weight on it?" he inquired. you tried, but the sudden urge of pain caused your eyes to water. "no," your grip on his arm was strong. you whimper, "i think i need to go to the hospital."

calum and michael helped you in getting downstairs and into your car. ashton hastily grabbed your bag and everyone else's belongings. he knocked on luke's studio door and tried to open it, but he had locked it. he was sick of being interrupted all the time.

at the hospital, the three of them kept trying to contact luke. each phone call resulted in a voicemail, and each text was left on delivered.

you had a glimmer of hope that luke would return, and you thought it would be today. you were in a lot of agony, and all you wanted was for luke to hold you and tell you how much he loves you.

ashton walked into the room, his phone in his pocket. your gaze met his, hope lingered in your eyes, but it washed away with a simple shake of his head.

luke just stared at you, no words coming to mind. "y/n..i.." he grumbled. "luke, i know you're struggling, and i tried to be there for you, but i'm also suffering, luke," you shook your head. "i'm afraid i'm losing you." you were filled with rage as you stared back at luke. he was taken aback because this was the first time he had seen you so enraged. he blinked a few times before taking a deep breath and opening his mouth.

“let me fix this, let me fix us. i can and i will. i just need a little more time to finish this project, hon.” you shook your head, let out a small sob, and buried your face into the palm of your sweatshirt. “luke..i’m tired. i’m so tired. you promised you wouldn’t put your work above me. you did. you cry “look what happened” your voice broke as you spilled your heart to him.

luke exhaled, settling by your side, "y/n." he is speechless and doesn't want to argue with you. “i’ll fix this. i don’t wanna fight. tell me what you want from me…please..” ” he kissed you on the temple first, then the cheek.

“i want you to let me in, i feel like you’re pushing me away and i can’t deal with that.” you cry, luke is still by your side, wiping away the tears on your cheek. “you haven’t left that studio, and i just..” you couldn’t form the right words. but when you looked at him your felt your heart breaking. “do you even love me anymore?”

when the words left your lips luke felt his whole world crashing down, of course he still loved you. you were his universe, the light he had always been searching for.

for years luke had struggled with communication and he couldn’t form the right words to express himself. “oh, y/n…of course i still love you. but this project means a lot to me and…i just…i want to get it done. and i hope you can understand that..” you sigh, and push away his hands. “i can’t believe you’re closing your work over me” you say.

“y/n i-“ luke tries to speak but you cut him off, “i don’t want to hear it, just…forget it.”

luke sighs, and stands up from the sofa. his footsteps echoed down the corridor, and petunia soon followed. you couldn't help but feel dejected, and you felt even worse after one of your rare disagreements. you'd never felt so angry or hurt before.

that night, you slept on the couch with petunia by your side. and spent a couple of hours on facetime with ashton, deciding what your next step should be. "what are your options, hotshot?" ashton inquired, setting down his phone. "well.." you began, rubbing your sleepy eyes. "i could live with sierra or mike and crystal….just until I can get my stuff and find a place," you started thinking.

it was a stormy night, and your gaze was drawn to the glass doors as raindrops fell down the glass. "do you think i'm making the right decision?" you ask, capturing your friends' attention. "i do," ashton considered. “i mean, i love luke. he's like my brother, yet this behavior is unacceptable. i know he loves you, especially after this week, but this has been going on for far too long. it’s not good for either of you." he continued, his head resting on his hand.

you agreed with a nod. you still adore him and believe he is your entire universe, but you can't let it go on. "you're right.." a sigh escaped your lips as you fought the impulse to cry again. "i'll see you in the mornin?" you ask, and he nodded. "be there bright and early," he said, empathetically.

you woke up earlier than usual that morning, with a tiny bag already packed and waited for ashton to arrive.

you had kept your cool all morning, but when ashton stepped in, you let it all out. your arms curled over his big shoulders as he approached the sofa where you sat, and the tears had finally come. "shh..it's okay." ashton quieted your sobs and gently caressed your back.

there's a quiet understanding between the two of you, and ashton assists you in getting off the sofa, hands you your crutches, and walks with you to the door. "wait," you say as you stop him, "will you put this on the counter?" you ask, handing him a piece of paper. ashton nods and performs as you request.

when he returns, he collects your bag and opens the door for you, "you ready?" he inquires. you glance behind you, hoping that luke will come down and fight for you.

but he doesn't, so you return to ashton, nod, and exit the house

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part V)

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART VI

Plot Overview:

In this part of the story, Y/N continues to stand firm in her decision to betray her father, Victor, and align herself with Chan and Stray Kids. After successfully helping dismantle Victor’s forces, Y/N faces an intense and personal confrontation with one of her father’s top enforcers. But the danger doesn’t end there. The war between Victor and Chan’s organization intensifies, and Y/N’s estranged brother, Jake, is revealed to be Victor’s secret weapon, sent to hunt her down. With the stakes rising, Y/N must navigate family betrayal, shifting alliances, and a growing bond with Chan that could be both her strength and her vulnerability. As the battle rages on, Y/N is forced to confront her past and take action in a way that will change everything.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, StrayKids!Mafia, Mafia!AU, Graphic violence and physical confrontation, Betrayal and manipulation, Family conflict (including strained relationship with a parent and sibling), Themes of power struggles, loyalty, and revenge, Strong language and mature themes, Trauma-related moments (past and present)

Author Note:

Hey, lovely readers! 💜

Thank you for sticking with me on this wild ride. Chapter 5 has a lot of twists, turns, and emotional moments (don’t worry, I’m not going to spoil anything 😏). As always, you all have been so amazing with your feedback, and I truly appreciate every comment, like, and share. Seriously, you guys are the real MVPs! I hope you’re loving the tension between Y/N and Chan (because who wouldn’t?), and get ready for even more family drama—because, yes, it’s about to get even messier. 🤭

Keep reading, keep commenting, and I promise there’s so much more chaos and love coming your way. Stay tuned, and don’t forget to hydrate—you’re going to need it for what’s next. Much love, and I’ll see you in the next chapter! 💜

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The air in the war room feels thick, the tension palpable as you step inside. The room is dimly lit, the glow of multiple screens casting flickering shadows across the faces of Chan’s inner circle. All the members of Stray Kids are present, their sharp eyes focused on the shifting maps and streams of data displayed before them. It’s clear this isn’t just any emergency—it’s something calculated, something dangerous.

Chan walks in beside you, his presence commanding the room without a single word. But there’s a subtle shift in the way the others look at you now. Their eyes flicker between you and him, some filled with curiosity, others with concern. The weight of what just happened in his study clings to you, and you can’t help but wonder if they know. If they sense the change.

Changbin clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the largest screen. “Victor’s men hit us hard,” he says, his voice clipped and precise. “They took out one of our safehouses in the northern sector, but that’s not the worst of it.”

He taps the keyboard, and a new screen comes into view—a message scrawled in Victor’s familiar style. The words are taunting, dripping with menace.

You think you’ve won, little girl? You’ve only just begun to lose.

The room goes silent. You feel the blood drain from your face as the weight of the message settles over you like a leaden cloak. It’s directed at you—there’s no mistaking it. Victor isn’t just retaliating against Stray Kids. He’s making it personal.

Chan’s jaw tightens, his hand flexing at his side. “What else?” he asks, his tone sharp but calm.

Changbin glances at you briefly before continuing. “The northern supply line is compromised. They knew exactly where to hit. We’re still assessing the damage, but it’s bad. If we don’t move quickly, we’ll lose more ground.”

Felix steps forward, his voice quieter but no less urgent. “It’s not just the supply line. Victor’s men left a trail—we think they’re setting up a secondary strike, targeting our allies in the eastern sector. If they succeed, it could destabilize our entire network.”

The implications are clear. This isn’t just a counterattack—it’s a calculated move, one designed to dismantle everything Chan has built.

You swallow hard, your mind racing. The message, the timing—it’s all too precise. Guilt starts to creep in, clawing at the edges of your resolve. Was this your fault? Did your distraction, your indulgence, give Victor the opening he needed to strike?

Before you can spiral further, Chan’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “We don’t have time to waste. Felix, start reinforcing the eastern sector. I want every safehouse secured within the hour. Minho, take a team and lock down the remaining northern routes. We can’t afford another breach.”

The members nod, moving with the precision of a well-oiled machine. But even as Chan issues orders, his eyes keep darting toward you. There’s a protectiveness in his gaze, something unspoken but undeniable.

Finally, he turns to you, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Y/N. Talk to me. What do you see?”

For a moment, you hesitate. The guilt, the weight of everything, feels like it might crush you. But then you remind yourself—you’re not just here because of him. You’re here because you chose this. Because you’re more than just a bystander in this war.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your eyes scanning the map on the screen. “Victor’s not just reacting,” you say, your voice steadier than you expected. “This is part of a larger play. The northern strike wasn’t just about hitting us—it was a distraction. He wanted you focused there so you wouldn’t see the eastern move coming.”

Changbin frowns. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I know him,” you reply, your tone firm. “Victor doesn’t just want to hurt you. He wants to divide you, make you doubt your own strength. The eastern sector isn’t just a target—it’s bait. He’s trying to lure you into a trap.”

The room falls silent as your words sink in. All eyes are on you now, and for the first time, you feel the weight of their scrutiny. But instead of shrinking under it, you stand taller, meeting each gaze head-on.

“Then what do we do?” Felix asks, his tone cautious but respectful.

You turn to Chan, your eyes locking with his. “We outthink him. Let him think we’re taking the bait, but use it to our advantage. If we can anticipate where he’s setting the trap, we can turn it against him. Hit him where he doesn’t expect it.”

A slow smile spreads across Chan’s face, a mixture of pride and something deeper. “You heard her,” he says, his voice firm. “Changbin, start mapping out potential locations for the trap. Jisung, I want a list of our resources in the eastern sector. Everyone else, prepare for deployment.”

As the room bursts into activity, you feel Chan’s hand brush against yours—a fleeting touch, but one that grounds you. When the others are occupied, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“This isn’t your fault,” he says, his tone gentle but unwavering. “Victor’s playing his game, but so are we. And now, we have the upper hand.”

You nod, his words sinking in, though the guilt still lingers at the edges of your mind. But as you look around the room, at the way the others move with purpose, at the way Chan trusts you without hesitation, you realize something important.

You’re not just a pawn in this game. You’re a player. And you’re ready to prove it.

Chan’s private quarters feel different tonight. The room, though spacious, carries a sense of intimacy—dark wood accents, muted light from a desk lamp, and the faint scent of him lingering in the air. It’s a space that feels distinctly his, a contrast to the calculated efficiency of the compound. But right now, it feels heavier, as if the tension from the war room has followed you both here, refusing to let go.

You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, your elbows resting on your knees, hands clasped tightly. The guilt is a steady drumbeat in your chest, a reminder of Victor’s message, of the safehouse lost, and of the chaos that seems to follow you wherever you go.

Chan closes the door behind him quietly, his footsteps soft but deliberate as he crosses the room. He doesn’t speak right away, instead leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he watches you. The weight of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, but you don’t look up. You can feel the questions radiating from him, the unspoken worry he’s trying to hide.

“You’re quiet,” he says at last, his voice low and careful.

You shrug, forcing a tight smile. “Lot to think about.”

He doesn’t accept the answer, his brows furrowing as he steps closer. “Talk to me.”

The softness in his tone is your undoing. You glance up at him, meeting his steady gaze, and for a moment, you’re not sure where to start. The words catch in your throat, a tangled mess of guilt, doubt, and something else you’re not ready to name.

“I… I keep wondering,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “If all of this is my fault. If I hadn’t—”

“No,” Chan cuts you off sharply, his voice firm but not unkind. He kneels in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, grounding you. “Don’t even go there, Y/N. This isn’t on you. Victor’s been planning his moves for a long time. This is his war, not yours.”

“But I gave him an opening,” you insist, your hands gripping the edge of the couch. “If I hadn’t been distracted, if I’d been paying more attention—”

“Stop.” His voice softens, but there’s an edge of command in it that silences you. He shifts closer, his hands sliding up to gently hold yours, prying your fingers from their tight grip. “You’re not responsible for Victor’s actions. And you’re not a distraction, Y/N. You’re the reason we’ve gotten this far.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes your chest tighten. You shake your head, looking away as doubt creeps in. “Am I, though? Or am I just another problem you have to deal with? Another complication in an already impossible fight?”

Chan’s grip tightens just enough to bring your gaze back to his. “You’re not a problem,” he says firmly. “You’re my partner. My equal in this.”

The words hit harder than you expect, the weight of them sinking into your chest. “How can you be so sure?” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t even know if I’m doing the right thing anymore. Helping you destroy Victor—it feels right, but it’s still my father’s empire. It’s everything I’ve ever known.”

Chan exhales slowly, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands. “I can’t tell you what’s right or wrong, Y/N. That’s something only you can decide. But I can tell you this—Victor’s empire isn’t just falling apart because of me. It’s collapsing because it was built on fear, on control, on broken foundations. You see that, don’t you?”

You nod slowly, the truth of his words undeniable. “I do. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he agrees, his voice quieter now. “But you’re not in this alone. You never have been. And whatever comes next, we face it together.”

His words linger in the air, heavy with meaning. The way he looks at you now—open, unguarded—feels like a revelation. This isn’t just about strategy or loyalty anymore. It’s about you and him, about the connection that’s grown between you despite everything trying to tear it apart.

“Together,” you repeat softly, the word tasting unfamiliar but right on your tongue.

Chan leans back slightly, his hands still holding yours as he shifts to sit beside you on the couch. The space between you feels smaller now, the silence more comfortable. “You’ve changed me, you know,” he says after a moment, his voice low but steady.

You glance at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Before you, it was all about the mission. The plan. Winning at any cost. I didn’t let myself think about anything else, didn’t let anyone in. But you…” He trails off, his gaze meeting yours again. “You’ve made me see things differently. Feel things differently.”

The honesty in his words makes your breath catch. “Chan…”

He shakes his head, his smile fading as his expression grows serious. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, babygirl. What we have—it’s worth fighting for. And I’ll burn the world down to protect it, to protect you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

The intensity in his voice, the conviction in his words, leaves you speechless. You feel the heat of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, leaning into him instead.

“I don’t deserve that,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

“Yes, you do,” he says without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you. “And I’m going to prove it to you every damn day.”

You sit there together, the weight of the world pressing in from all sides, but for this moment, it doesn’t matter. Chan holds you close, his touch steady and grounding, and you feel a sense of safety you haven’t known in years.

Whatever comes next, you know you won’t face it alone. The storm may be raging, but with Chan by your side, you’re ready for it. Together, you’ll face whatever the world throws at you—and you’ll burn it all down if you have to.

The hum of engines fills the armored van as it speeds through the darkened streets. The air inside is tense, charged with unspoken concerns and the weight of the mission ahead. You sit across from Chan, his gaze fixed on the tactical map displayed on the tablet in his hand. Changbin and a few other Stray Kids members flank him, their faces drawn with focus and anticipation.

But it’s the way Changbin’s eyes flicker to you, skeptical and sharp, that sets your nerves on edge. His disapproval is unspoken, but it’s palpable, hanging in the air between you.

“You sure about this?” Changbin finally asks, his voice low but carrying enough bite to cut through the tension. His eyes don’t leave you as he speaks.

Chan doesn’t look up, his tone firm. “She’s coming. End of discussion.”

“Yeah, but does she know what she’s walking into? This isn’t strategy on a screen. It’s real. And one wrong move—”

“—could cost us everything,” you finish for him, meeting his gaze head-on. Your voice is steady, sharper than you intended, but you’re done with being underestimated. “I know exactly what’s at stake, Changbin. I’m here because I can help. Or would you rather I sit back and watch while you all fumble through Victor’s traps?”

Changbin’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond.

Chan finally looks up, his dark eyes locking on his second-in-command. “She’s proven herself before. She’s not just sitting this one out.” His voice is calm but unyielding, carrying the weight of his authority. “If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me.”

The silence that follows is heavy, but no one challenges him.

You glance at Chan, catching the flicker of something in his expression—an unspoken reassurance, a silent promise that he’s got your back. It steadies you more than you care to admit.

The van jerks to a halt, the sound of gravel crunching beneath its tires. Chan’s voice snaps through the tension as he shifts into command mode. “All right. We’re five minutes out. Everyone knows their roles—stick to the plan, and this will be clean.”

You move to follow as the team begins to disembark, but Chan steps in front of you, his hand brushing your arm to stop you. His voice lowers, meant only for you. “Stay close to me.”

You nod, your throat tight. “I will.”

The operation unfolds with precision, at least at first. The team moves in coordinated silence, sweeping through the abandoned warehouse that Victor’s forces have turned into a makeshift hub. You stick close to Chan, your eyes scanning the shadows for movement, every sense heightened.

It’s not long before the calm shatters. The first shots echo through the cavernous space, ricocheting off metal beams and concrete walls. Chaos erupts as Victor’s men emerge, armed and prepared.

You duck behind a stack of crates as gunfire sprays the area, adrenaline spiking in your veins. Across from you, Chan barks orders into his comms, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos.

“They’re flanking left!” you call out, your eyes catching the subtle shift in Victor’s men. “They’re trying to cut off the exit.”

Chan glances at you, his gaze sharp. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” you reply, already moving to counter.

Your insider knowledge proves invaluable as you help the team navigate the battlefield, anticipating Victor’s tactics with precision. You call out positions, warn of traps, and even lead a small group to secure a critical chokepoint.

But the moment of triumph is short-lived.

You round a corner, your weapon drawn, only to come face-to-face with a figure you recognize instantly—one of Victor’s top enforcers, a man whose reputation for brutality is matched only by his loyalty to your father.

His eyes narrow as they land on you, recognition flaring in his expression. “Well, well,” he sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. “The prodigal daughter. Guess daddy didn’t keep you on a tight enough leash.”

Your grip on your weapon tightens, but you don’t flinch. “Guess he didn’t teach you how to stay out of my way,” you shoot back, your voice steadier than you feel.

The enforcer lunges before you can react, disarming you with a brutal twist of your wrist. Pain shoots up your arm, but you don’t have time to dwell on it as he slams you against the wall, his forearm pressing against your throat.

“You think you can betray Victor and walk away unscathed?” he growls, his breath hot against your face.

The panic rises, but you push it down, grappling for anything you can use. Your free hand finds the knife strapped to your thigh, and with a sharp, desperate motion, you drive it into his side.

He staggers back with a grunt, giving you just enough room to break free. You barely have time to catch your breath before a familiar voice cuts through the chaos.

“Y/N!”

Chan’s voice is like a lifeline, and within seconds, he’s there, his weapon trained on the enforcer. The look in his eyes is deadly, and for a moment, you see the full force of the man who commands one of the most feared organizations in the underworld.

“Touch her again,” Chan growls, his voice low and cold, “and I’ll make sure you don’t live long enough to regret it.”

The enforcer doesn’t get a chance to respond. Chan’s shot is clean, precise, and final.

He’s at your side in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, his gaze sweeping over you. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, still catching your breath. “I’m fine.”

His eyes narrow, scanning you more thoroughly. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he doesn’t look convinced.

“We’re getting you out of here,” he says firmly, his hand moving to your back as he guides you toward the exit.

“I can still fight,” you protest, but he cuts you off.

“You’ve already done enough,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Let me take care of the rest.”

By the time the team regroups, the operation is a success. Victor’s forces are scattered, the hub dismantled, and critical intel secured.

Back at the compound, the atmosphere is tense but victorious. Changbin approaches as you step out of the van, his expression unreadable.

“You did good,” he admits grudgingly, his tone begrudging but sincere.

You glance at him, surprised. “Thanks.”

Chan’s arm brushes yours as he steps forward, his presence commanding as ever. “She’s not just good,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “She’s one of us now.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and you feel the eyes of the team on you. For the first time, it’s not skepticism or judgment you see—it’s respect.

And for the first time, you feel like you belong.

The atmosphere in Victor’s stronghold is suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The sprawling estate, normally a display of his wealth and power, feels like the lair of a predator—every shadow and every corner holding the weight of his fury.

Victor stands at the head of a massive table in the dimly lit room, his face a mask of cold, seething anger. Maps, photographs, and red-marked plans are strewn across the surface, but his focus isn’t on the strategy. It’s on the betrayal—the face staring back at him from one of the pictures. Your face.

“She’s turned against us,” he says, his voice low but laced with venom. He picks up the photograph, holding it between two fingers as if it disgusts him. “My own blood. My own daughter.”

Around the room, his most loyal men stand silent, their heads bowed in deference—or perhaps fear. Victor’s rage is dangerous, and no one dares to interrupt him.

“Y/N was supposed to be my legacy,” he continues, tossing the photograph onto the table. “Now she’s nothing but a liability. And she thinks aligning herself with Stray Kids will save her? With Chan?” He spits the name like it’s poison.

One of his top enforcers, a man with a scar running down the side of his face, clears his throat cautiously. “Sir, we’ve already taken measures to destabilize Chan’s organization. The counterattack at the safehouse sent a message. We can keep applying pressure.”

Victor turns his piercing gaze on the man, and the enforcer flinches. “A message?” Victor repeats, his voice icy. “Do you think that was enough? Do you think I want her inconvenienced, or do you think I want her destroyed?”

The enforcer stammers, but before he can respond, Victor raises a hand to silence him.

“No,” Victor says, his tone softening in a way that’s far more dangerous than his rage. “This isn’t just about her anymore. It’s about everyone who stands with her. Chan thinks he’s untouchable, that his precious little mafia can outmaneuver me. Let’s show him what happens when you cross me.”

He gestures to one of the men at his side, a figure who steps forward with an unsettling calmness. The man is younger than most of Victor’s inner circle, his face eerily familiar.

Jake. Your brother.

The sight of him would be a shock to anyone who hasn’t seen him in years. Taller now, his features sharper, but there’s a darkness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

Victor places a hand on Jake’s shoulder, the gesture almost paternal. “My son,” he says, his voice carrying a note of pride. “You’ve been waiting for your moment, haven’t you?”

Jake nods, his expression cold, calculating. “I’m ready.”

Victor smiles, the curve of his lips chilling. “Good. Because I have a special task for you. You know Y/N better than anyone. You know how she thinks, how she operates. You’ll use that knowledge to bring her to me—and when you do, I want you to deliver a message to her precious Chan.”

Jake tilts his head slightly. “And what message is that?”

Victor’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with malice. “That no matter where they run, no matter what alliances they forge, they’ll never be safe. Because I’ll always be one step ahead.”

The room falls silent again as Victor turns his attention to one of the large screens on the wall. It flickers to life, displaying surveillance footage from one of his compromised hubs. The footage shows you and Chan, working alongside his team, your face determined as you give orders, your movements confident and precise.

Victor’s gaze sharpens as he watches you, a flicker of something almost unreadable crossing his features. “She’s forgotten who she is,” he murmurs. “But I’ll remind her. She thinks she can build a new empire with Chan? Let’s see how well they handle losing everything they care about.”

He leans forward, his hands pressing flat against the table. “Escalate the attacks. Hit his supply routes, his safehouses, his alliances. No mercy. And as for Y/N…” He pauses, his expression darkening. “Make sure she knows this isn’t just a war. It’s personal.”

The room buzzes with activity as his orders are carried out. Victor watches, his satisfaction evident as he turns to Jake.

“And you,” he says, his tone quiet but firm. “You will be my weapon. I’ve given you everything you need to succeed. Don’t disappoint me.”

Jake nods, his jaw set. “I won’t.”

As the men begin to disperse, Victor picks up the photograph of you again, studying it for a long moment. Then he flips it over and scrawls something on the back before handing it to one of his men.

“Deliver this to her,” he orders. “Make sure she knows it came from me.”

The camera zooms in on the back of the photograph as it’s handed off. In bold, angry letters, it reads:

You’ll never escape. And neither will he.

The quiet hum of the HQ wraps around you both as you step into Chan’s private quarters. The chaos of the day has settled, leaving the compound calm on the surface, but beneath it all, you know the storm is still brewing.

Chan stands by the window, the faint glow of the moonlight highlighting the tension in his posture. His arms are crossed over his chest, the weight of the day’s events bearing down on him. You can see the way his shoulders are set, rigid and unyielding, but there’s something softer in his expression when he glances over at you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you try to find your breath. The adrenaline from the operation has long since faded, leaving only the lingering echoes of the decisions you’ve made and the battles yet to come.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is heavy, but not uncomfortable. It feels like the calm before something monumental, the kind of quiet that demands to be broken but holds its own kind of peace.

Finally, you step forward, crossing the room until you’re standing beside him. You don’t look at him right away, instead letting your gaze drift out the window to the distant city lights.

"Today,” you start, your voice quieter than you expect, “felt like everything was balanced on the edge of a knife.”

Chan doesn’t respond immediately. He exhales softly, his jaw tightening before he speaks. “It was.”

His voice is low, steady, but you can hear the weariness beneath it. You turn to face him fully, your arms wrapping around yourself as you search his expression. “I thought I’d feel relief,” you admit. “We made it through, we outmaneuvered Victor’s forces, and yet…”

“And yet it’s not enough,” he finishes for you, his eyes meeting yours. There’s something in his gaze—determination, but also a vulnerability he rarely lets show. “It won’t be enough until we take everything from him. Until there’s nothing left for him to come back to.”

You nod, the weight of his words sinking in. But it’s not the thought of Victor that holds your focus—it’s Chan. The man who’s risked everything to fight this war, who’s drawn you into his orbit and made you see the world in shades you’d never imagined.

“I’m not conflicted anymore,” you say suddenly, the words tumbling out before you can overthink them. “About where I stand. About us.”

Chan blinks, his posture shifting as he turns to face you fully. His expression is unreadable at first, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes softens into something warmer, something deeper.

“I’ve chosen you, Chan,” you continue, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions in your chest. “Not just as an ally. Not just as a partner in this war. I’ve chosen you. All of you. Whatever that means, whatever comes next—I’m with you.”

His jaw tightens, the weight of your words settling over him. For a moment, he doesn’t speak, but you can see the way his eyes search yours, as if trying to find the cracks, the hesitation. But there’s none.

“Y/N…” His voice is quieter now, rough with emotion. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “You don’t know what that means to me. What you mean to me.”

You lean into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. “Then show me, Chan. Show me what this means. Show me we’re not just fighting a war—we’re building something better.”

His thumb brushes over your cheek, his gaze holding yours like a promise. “You’re not just with me,” he says, his voice steady now, filled with a certainty that sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re everything, Y/N. Everything I’m fighting for. I’d tear the world apart, piece by piece, if it meant keeping you safe.”

The intensity of his words leaves you breathless, but there’s no room for doubt anymore. You know he means every word.

“We’re going to end this,” he continues, his hand slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. “We’ll take the fight to Victor. We’ll tear his empire apart piece by piece, and when it’s over, we’ll build something new. Together.”

The resolve in his voice steadies something inside you. You nod, your hands resting against his chest as you take a deep breath. “Then we start now. No more waiting, no more second-guessing. We take everything from him.”

Chan’s lips curve into a small, dangerous smile. “That’s my girl.”

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. The sound is sharp, cutting through the intimacy of the moment. Chan’s expression hardens instantly, and you step back slightly as he moves to open the door.

It’s Changbin, holding a small envelope in his hand. He glances between you and Chan, his usual stoicism faltering for a moment before he holds the envelope out. “This just came in. It’s from Victor.”

Chan takes the envelope, his jaw tightening as he glances at the seal. He breaks it open, unfolding the paper inside, his eyes scanning the contents quickly.

“What is it?” you ask, stepping closer, your pulse quickening.

Chan doesn’t answer right away. He hands you the paper instead, his expression unreadable.

You take it, your eyes scanning the bold, scrawled handwriting:

Hey, big sis. Dad says to tell you'll never escape. Neither will your new boyfriend. Game on.

Your stomach twists at the familiar handwriting—Jake’s. The words are taunting, a clear declaration of war, and yet there’s something chilling about how personal it feels.

You lower the paper slowly, your grip tightening as you glance back at Chan. His expression is stone cold, his jaw set in a way that tells you he’s already calculating his next move.

But you don’t need time to think. The anger, the determination, burns hot in your chest as you crumple the paper in your hand.

“You fucking little brat,” you mutter under your breath, your eyes narrowing. Then you lift your chin, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Game on.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[comfort-person]

Publicity stunt

This GIF IM SORRY WHAT?!!!! 😩😩😩😩 anyways moving on this story is based on the ‘one bed’ trope. Yes I’m obsessed. I hope you all enjoy!!

Synopsis: you and Harry are forced to be a publicity stunt. He is your boyfriend for one year. A signed contract. But one problem… you hate each other.

Harry styles x fem! Reader

The lights of the paparazzis blinded you and Harry, Harry’s head bowed as his arm was wrapped tightly around you giving the impression of a protective boyfriend protecting his girlfriend his slender fingers wrapped around your hip as you both walked towards the doors of the five star hotel. Fans were screaming, shoving pictures and cd’s towards him attempting to get his attention but all he wanted to do was relax… what a day it had been. He was chewing a piece of gum, curly hair messy but driving the girls and guys wild as usual. His other hand was holding his water bottle, his sunglasses and his car keys… yes he did in fact have pretty big hands.

Once inside of the hotel, away from the eyes of the public you pulled away from Harry not saying anything to him as you walked to your guys’ hotel room. Eventually once at the right room you slid the card in before pulling it out abruptly the green light flickering slightly letting you know it had been unlocked before you pushed the door open, not holding it open for the man as instead it slammed into his arm “thanks.” He spoke sarcastically, you would’ve said something even more sarcastic if it wasn’t for the issue that had now made itself apparent to you… one fucking bed. Great! Just your luck, right? “Are you serious? Harry didn’t you say you got two separate beds?” You asked Harry dropping his stuff onto the desk

“Yes. I did. But clearly they didn’t listen… it isn’t my fault.” He spoke and you glared at him “not your fault? Pfft.” You scoffed, Harry’s cold green eyes boring into you as he stared an annoyed unimpressed look on his face “and earlier you called me childish. Grow the fuck up y/n.” He spat out, your attention now on him, a steamy angry emotion in both of you as you glared into each others eyes “it’s. a. bed. If you’re so unhappy with it sleep on the floor.” He muttered annoyed before sitting down on the bed, the outside world was already dark, and harry was just about ready for bed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and hated the fact that he just didn’t seem to care… he was truly a fucking asshole. Gods could your life get any worse? “People describe you as a gentleman… apparently you’re not. Because if you were you would’ve offered to sleep on the floor… cliche but if you did I might actually like you.” You spoke, yet didn’t even get a response from him. He just ignored you. Blatantly ignoring you. It pissed you off. Yet you watched as he soon grabbed a hold of a pillow neither of you would use before he stuffed a pillow in between the already laid out pillows- the one pillow standing up right creating an invisible equal line down the middle of the bed, “there… better princess.” He spoke sarcastically and you glared at him annoyed “you stick to your side. I stick to mine.” He spoke and you just nodded your head, before hurrying into the bathroom with your pyjamas, Harry getting changed himself before the both of you decided to wind down for the night.

Harry’s back was facing you, your back facing him too, the pillow being a lot of help actually yet you couldn’t get comfortable whatsoever. It was as if something was bugging you… and you forced yourself to believe it was him that was bugging you. But in reality it was this whole entire situation… you liked harry… and hated the fact that you both had to go around hiding these stupid fucking lies. You had been fidgeting nonstop for a good hour and a half, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall blankly… he was really biting his tongue. But that’s when your cold foot touched the back of his leg his body jumping

“Jesus Christ y/n! You’re freezing… stop fidgeting and go to sleep” he spoke, voice laced with tiredness the deepness making his voice crackle slightly. “Okay. ‘m sorry.” You muttered before rolling onto your stomach before attempting to sleep again, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softly, relaxing all until a minute later you were moving again- bed creaking, foot colliding with Harry’s ass “ow!” He rolled onto his back neck craned to look at you “will you stop? You’re certainly doing that on purpose.” He spoke, your brows furrowed in discomfort “I’m sorry… I can’t sleep… can’t get comfortable. I miss my home… my own bed…” you murmured Harry’s eyes opening slightly wider as he listened to you “well… you’ll be able to go home sooner once you fall asleep.” He spoke before attempting to roll back over and sleep only to be grabbed by your gentle hand eyes full of sadness and worry

“Harry…” you whispered “y/n.” He spoke in the same tone “hold me.” Those words practically stumped Harry, as he froze, blinking- utterly baffled. Did he just hear you right. “What?” “Hold me Harry. Please… I- I can’t sleep unless close to someone… or something…” usually you had your back pressed against the wall but there was no wall either of the sides of the bed. All apart from Harry. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling quietly before shaking his head “fine.” He rolled over to face you, you rolling over again so your back was facing him before you backed up into his warm embrace- back pressing against his chest, his arms lightly wrapping around your waist hands closed into fists to make sure to not touch you without you wanting him to, your body soon relaxing as you closed your eyes, Harry relaxing too as slowly but surely the both of you fell into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

Hours passed before eventually it was morning again, 6am to be precise. You would’ve slept in longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s fans were screaming his name… one side yelling ‘Harry’ another yelling ‘styles’ it was continuous. Annoying. Frustrating.

Your eyes fluttered open confused, a soft groan leaving your lips, yet that soon became the least of your worries as you soon realised you were not facing a wall anymore… but rather Harry himself… your chest pressed against his, face inches from his, your eyes widening slightly in shock…. You must’ve really gotten comfortable last night… Jesus. You stared shocked but didn’t attempt to move as you soon instead found yourself admiring him… his lips… his nose…. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks… his hair sprawled out onto the pillow lips slightly pouted, arms still wrapped around you tightly and securely. His defined jawline and cheekbones making your stomach flutter. So much so you carefully reached your arm behind you grabbing your phone as you quickly but efficiently took a picture of him asleep, immediately posting it to Instagram keeping your eyes on him but also your phone to make sure he didn’t see you doing such a… romantic? Thing.

A sudden “you know it’s rude to stare,” making you jump a small lazy smirk on Harry’s lips as he stared at you. You quickly turned your phone off dropping it by your side as you stared at him “sorry..” you smiled softly staring at him the feeling you had towards him was now of fondness rather than resentment. “Want to hear a joke?” He asked softly voice lazy and amused and you hummed watching as he smirked “right… okay.. what do you call a dinosaur who constantly kicks you up the bum?” You shook your head not knowing “a megasoreass…” your lips immediately upturned into a smile as you laughed “that’s so fucking stupid Harry.” You giggled out “okay okay I’ve got one…. What do you call someone who crosses the road to find a chicken?” Harry stared confused “uh I don’t know.” “Harry styles.” You spoke, Harry’s eyes narrowing as he glared at you playfully “well who’s the one who likes chicken here? I only eat fish… soo… I guess it’s really y/n y/l/n hm” he smirked at you your smile remaining yet both your faces began to relax as he began leaning in, you moving closer to him as well before the inevitable happened…

Your lips met with his, the pillow that once kept you both from being close to each other now was a place for both your heads to rest, Harry’s hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheek bone as he kissed you deeply but passionately, eyes fluttered shut, growing more heated, his free hand sliding down your waist and your hands grasping onto his shoulders tightly hands soon curling into his hair, tugging slightly before eventually you were both forced to pull away…. Breathing heavily… looking into each others eyes as Harry stared at you

“Shit…” he murmured

“Shit.” You repeated after him studying his eyes silently… there’s no going back now, right? “Fuck it.” You whispered, lips colliding with his again as you kissed him passionately, the kisses messy and sloppy as his hands travelled down your waist, until eventually you were pulled on-top of him the filthy make out session continuing… and well….

The rest is history.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Tolerate

summary: jake scours the city and comes home with way too many candles.

pairing: gn!reader x jake lockley

warnings: food mention, smoking mention

word count: 1.1k

gif credit: @marvel-daily

an: originally this concept was for the candle day of @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb but my brain wasn’t ready to finish it yet. hope y’all enjoy this little piece of grumpy fluff!

moonknight masterlist | general masterlist | requests open

Jake’s pissed off, which is nothing new.

Not at you— though you’re the reason he’s been driving around town for the last two hours. So maybe he is a little pissed off at you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he loves you and that he’s gone on this wild goose chase for you.

More than anything right now, he’s pissed off at candles. A specific candle. Your absolute favorite candle. He used to love it, though he never admitted that he loved the scent as much as you do. He could bet all the money he made cabbing people around this week that the smell of this candle would send him into a frenzy right now because he can’t find it.

You’re running low, the only one you have in the flat is probably burning right now, and it’s over halfway done. Steven suggested this, driving around to find a few to stock up on because of how much you enjoy it. Jake had agreed, he loves you and the gorgeous smile that spreads across your face when you get the first whiff. Marc has been eerily quiet, Jake knows that this is because you’ll be happy either way— you always are, always telling the three of them how they’re all you need.

He can hear Marc saying ‘She doesn’t need a candle, she has us. We can give her everything she needs’. You’ve made him comfortable that way— a feat that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Jake’s cab has been full of nothing but a string of curses, the cap that always sits on his head abandoned in the passenger seat as he runs his hand through his curls in frustration.

His phone rings and he rolls his eyes, having half the mind to throw it out the window. His expression immediately softens when he sees that it’s you calling and despite his frustration he answers affectionately, “Yes, amor?”

Jake hadn’t been who you expected— though he is a pleasant surprise.

You grin at the sound of his voice as you open the fridge, looking around, “Oh, hi, baby. Are you working tonight?”

He can hear you pattering around the kitchen through the line, “Something like that.”

As usual, he sounds frustrated. You learned early on that this is just his voice— that you’d have to find other ways to figure out what he was truly feeling. But, tonight there is no underlying softness in his tone, no sigh of relief.

“Well, I’m wondering if I need to make dinner for both of us. Are you okay?”

His eyes skate over to the clock on his dashboard If the next store has the candles he should be able to make dinner.

“I’m fine, I should be there in an hour.”

Jake is late— an entire hour late when he walks through the door, with three large big brown paper bags. He was right, that godforsaken candle is burning, a mix of its warm scent and the aromas of dinner in the air. And while he’s good at staying rigid on the outside, he can’t deny how inviting the smell is. Even after all the frustration, coming home to you and your stupid, deliciously smelling candle is his solace.

You regard him curiously when he walks through with so much cargo. What did someone pay him in that required bags like these?

“What’s all this?”

“For you,” He grumbles, setting the bags on the couch beside you before dipping to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

Jake’s scent is a nice accompaniment to the smells already swirling through the air. He adds an earthy smell, a mix of the leather of his coat and the cigarettes you’re pestering him to quit.

He disappears into the kitchen then, no doubt in search for the food you spoke of on the phone.

“For me?” You can’t keep the excitement out of your voice as you rise up on your knees, peering down into one of the bags.

A knowing grin spreads across your face and you reach into the bag, holding up one of the many candles he’s bought. Taking the lid off you inhale deeply— as if the scent of the candle hasn’t already permeated the space. But with your nose right in it, it’s stronger, sweeter and your shoulders relax even more.

“You’re such a romantic, Lockley,” You tease, placing the candle back in the bag so that you can clear a space for him to sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m limiting your burning time, these better last us until we’re dead,” He says dryly as he returns from the kitchen, bowl of food in tow.

You raise your brows in faux offense, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your face, “That means you have to limit your own burning time too.”

“I don’t light candles.”

“Yeah, alright, baby.”

“They give me headaches, I can barely tolerate the smell,” He continues, though he sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince you.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder with a cheeky smile, “I see. Is that why you went and bought…30 of them? Because they smell terrible?”

He shovels some rice into his mouth and points to his mouth as if to say he can’t speak with it full.

“You know I don’t care about seeing smooshed rice in your mouth.”

“I have manners,” He murmurs after he swallows.

“Okay, manner’s man, let me have this. Please,” You tack on at the end, gesturing your head to the bowl in his hands.

He looks at you skeptically but obliges. With the bowl now your hands you slide into his lap, tilting your head at him as you smile.

“What?”

“Thank you for buying an ungodly amount of our favorite candle.”

“Your favorite candle,” He corrects.

“Ours,” You repeat, leaning in to capture his mouth with yours.

He kisses you back, firm and demanding as always, his hand raising to cup your cheek. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, his mouth turned up just in the corner and you know you’ve won him over.

“You’re welcome, amor.”

“Are you admitting that you love the candle?”

“You don’t quit.”

“Well?”

“Yes, I like the candle. Happy?”

“Extremely. Now open up,” You demand with a grin, holding up a spoonful for him. “Please,” You add once he cocks an eyebrow at you silently— and he obliges with a grin of his own.

moonknight taglist: @angelfxllcm, @in-between-the-cafes, @honeybrowne, @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @julydaydream, @welcometostayingawake, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @minigirl87

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Publicity stunt

This GIF IM SORRY WHAT?!!!! 😩😩😩😩 anyways moving on this story is based on the ‘one bed’ trope. Yes I’m obsessed. I hope you all enjoy!!

Synopsis: you and Harry are forced to be a publicity stunt. He is your boyfriend for one year. A signed contract. But one problem… you hate each other.

Harry styles x fem! reader

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

The lights of the paparazzis blinded you and Harry, Harry’s head bowed as his arm was wrapped tightly around you giving the impression of a protective boyfriend protecting his girlfriend his slender fingers wrapped around your hip as you both walked towards the doors of the five star hotel. Fans were screaming, shoving pictures and cd’s towards him attempting to get his attention but all he wanted to do was relax… what a day it had been. He was chewing a piece of gum, curly hair messy but driving the girls and guys wild as usual. His other hand was holding his water bottle, his sunglasses and his car keys… yes he did in fact have pretty big hands.

Once inside of the hotel, away from the eyes of the public you pulled away from Harry not saying anything to him as you walked to your guys’ hotel room. Eventually once at the right room you slid the card in before pulling it out abruptly the green light flickering slightly letting you know it had been unlocked before you pushed the door open, not holding it open for the man as instead it slammed into his arm “thanks.” He spoke sarcastically, you would’ve said something even more sarcastic if it wasn’t for the issue that had now made itself apparent to you… one fucking bed. Great! Just your luck, right? “Are you serious? Harry didn’t you say you got two separate beds?” You asked Harry dropping his stuff onto the desk

“Yes. I did. But clearly they didn’t listen… it isn’t my fault.” He spoke and you glared at him “not your fault? Pfft.” You scoffed, Harry’s cold green eyes boring into you as he stared an annoyed unimpressed look on his face “and earlier you called me childish. Grow the fuck up y/n.” He spat out, your attention now on him, a steamy angry emotion in both of you as you glared into each others eyes “it’s. a. bed. If you’re so unhappy with it sleep on the floor.” He muttered annoyed before sitting down on the bed, the outside world was already dark, and harry was just about ready for bed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and hated the fact that he just didn’t seem to care… he was truly a fucking asshole. Gods could your life get any worse? “People describe you as a gentleman… apparently you’re not. Because if you were you would’ve offered to sleep on the floor… cliche but if you did I might actually like you.” You spoke, yet didn’t even get a response from him. He just ignored you. Blatantly ignoring you. It pissed you off. Yet you watched as he soon grabbed a hold of a pillow neither of you would use before he stuffed a pillow in between the already laid out pillows- the one pillow standing up right creating an invisible equal line down the middle of the bed, “there… better princess.” He spoke sarcastically and you glared at him annoyed “you stick to your side. I stick to mine.” He spoke and you just nodded your head, before hurrying into the bathroom with your pyjamas, Harry getting changed himself before the both of you decided to wind down for the night.

Harry’s back was facing you, your back facing him too, the pillow being a lot of help actually yet you couldn’t get comfortable whatsoever. It was as if something was bugging you… and you forced yourself to believe it was him that was bugging you. But in reality it was this whole entire situation… you liked harry… and hated the fact that you both had to go around hiding these stupid fucking lies. You had been fidgeting nonstop for a good hour and a half, Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the wall blankly… he was really biting his tongue. But that’s when your cold foot touched the back of his leg his body jumping

“Jesus Christ y/n! You’re freezing… stop fidgeting and go to sleep” he spoke, voice laced with tiredness the deepness making his voice crackle slightly. “Okay. ‘m sorry.” You muttered before rolling onto your stomach before attempting to sleep again, Harry’s eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softly, relaxing all until a minute later you were moving again- bed creaking, foot colliding with Harry’s ass “ow!” He rolled onto his back neck craned to look at you “will you stop? You’re certainly doing that on purpose.” He spoke, your brows furrowed in discomfort “I’m sorry… I can’t sleep… can’t get comfortable. I miss my home… my own bed…” you murmured Harry’s eyes opening slightly wider as he listened to you “well… you’ll be able to go home sooner once you fall asleep.” He spoke before attempting to roll back over and sleep only to be grabbed by your gentle hand eyes full of sadness and worry

“Harry…” you whispered “y/n.” He spoke in the same tone “hold me.” Those words practically stumped Harry, as he froze, blinking- utterly baffled. Did he just hear you right. “What?” “Hold me Harry. Please… I- I can’t sleep unless close to someone… or something…” usually you had your back pressed against the wall but there was no wall either of the sides of the bed. All apart from Harry. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling quietly before shaking his head “fine.” He rolled over to face you, you rolling over again so your back was facing him before you backed up into his warm embrace- back pressing against his chest, his arms lightly wrapping around your waist hands closed into fists to make sure to not touch you without you wanting him to, your body soon relaxing as you closed your eyes, Harry relaxing too as slowly but surely the both of you fell into somewhat of a peaceful sleep.

Hours passed before eventually it was morning again, 6am to be precise. You would’ve slept in longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s fans were screaming his name… one side yelling ‘Harry’ another yelling ‘styles’ it was continuous. Annoying. Frustrating.

Your eyes fluttered open confused, a soft groan leaving your lips, yet that soon became the least of your worries as you soon realised you were not facing a wall anymore… but rather Harry himself… your chest pressed against his, face inches from his, your eyes widening slightly in shock…. You must’ve really gotten comfortable last night… Jesus. You stared shocked but didn’t attempt to move as you soon instead found yourself admiring him… his lips… his nose…. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks… his hair sprawled out onto the pillow lips slightly pouted, arms still wrapped around you tightly and securely. His defined jawline and cheekbones making your stomach flutter. So much so you carefully reached your arm behind you grabbing your phone as you quickly but efficiently took a picture of him asleep, immediately posting it to Instagram keeping your eyes on him but also your phone to make sure he didn’t see you doing such a… romantic? Thing.

A sudden “you know it’s rude to stare,” making you jump a small lazy smirk on Harry’s lips as he stared at you. You quickly turned your phone off dropping it by your side as you stared at him “sorry..” you smiled softly staring at him the feeling you had towards him was now of fondness rather than resentment. “Want to hear a joke?” He asked softly voice lazy and amused and you hummed watching as he smirked “right… okay.. what do you call a dinosaur who constantly kicks you up the bum?” You shook your head not knowing “a megasoreass…” your lips immediately upturned into a smile as you laughed “that’s so fucking stupid Harry.” You giggled out “okay okay I’ve got one…. What do you call someone who crosses the road to find a chicken?” Harry stared confused “uh I don’t know.” “Harry styles.” You spoke, Harry’s eyes narrowing as he glared at you playfully “well who’s the one who likes chicken here? I only eat fish… soo… I guess it’s really y/n y/l/n hm” he smirked at you your smile remaining yet both your faces began to relax as he began leaning in, you moving closer to him as well before the inevitable happened…

Your lips met with his, the pillow that once kept you both from being close to each other now was a place for both your heads to rest, Harry’s hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your cheek bone as he kissed you deeply but passionately, eyes fluttered shut, growing more heated, his free hand sliding down your waist and your hands grasping onto his shoulders tightly hands soon curling into his hair, tugging slightly before eventually you were both forced to pull away…. Breathing heavily… looking into each others eyes as Harry stared at you

“Shit.” He murmured

“Shit.” You repeated after him studying his eyes silently… there’s no going back now, right? “Fuck it.” You whispered, lips colliding with his again as you kissed him passionately, the kisses messy and sloppy as his hands travelled down your waist, until eventually you were pulled on-top of him the filthy make out session continuing… and well….

The rest is history.

[coconox]

certified delulu post about nocti

a.n. this'll be a compilation of thoughts from my initial reactions to sands of wrath to his voicelines to literally everything about him. THIS WILL HEAVILY BE A NOCTI X SKK!READER KIND OF THING because i'm all in for a lil self insert to feed my delulu visions. also as a heads up i did read the story using google translate so if i quote anything it's basically what google translate told me but i edited it to make some grammatical sense. and yes there will be spoilers

a lot of context will be left out so if you don't wanna be confused by names check out this lore doc that gives a summary of er-5 or pgr lore in general, this post just talks about er-5 lol

EXHIBIT A: TRIGUN AU

have you seen trigun (ESPECIALLY trimax) cause if you have this makes so much more sense

noctis is vash and nigel is knives

both are brothers and have almost opposite ideologies

i did think of wolfwood and livio as another option but nigel does fit a bit closer to resembling knives

VASHWOOD (where nocti is vash and skk is ww (or the other way round, honestly either still works)

nocti: but you must promise me that you won’t die before i come back! no…. you’re not allowed to die even after i come back! i will definitely find a way to save you!

skk: of course, partner…..

this had me in TEARS I WAS NOT READY

nocti fist bumping you just made me think of this scene with vash and meryl

HE ALSO CALLS YOU PARTNER AS HE FIST BUMPS YOU the way i had this realization so late into writing all this

sands of wrath setting literally looks like a place you’d find in no man’s land

nocti’s voiceline telling you to smile more, similar to ww telling vash to smile more (and i mean their genuine smile, not the fake one they use in front of people)

EXHIBIT B: NOCTI AND SKK ARE MARRIED

they are married and own a bar together hear me out—

you two enter a town in which neither of you are welcome because you’re both from babylonia, the mayor decides to put you two in a hotel room till the harvest festival is over

you two are in separate beds, but neither of you can sleep, so you two do what any pair of roommates would do—

—have a 6 hr "light conversation" :D

first actual convo with nocti, you both take turns to ask questions about why they’re here, what’s going on, etc

nocti asks why you trust him so easily, you respond with “it’s intuition” which is a response nocti seemed to like

you also state how you hope he returns to cerberus and fall asleep. nocti in a way states he also wishes to go back to cerberus and sleeps as well

at some point nocti leaves the hotel room to find demont, who is the reason you two ended up working together in the first place, but there was an attack by hetero creatures and nocti swiftly got rid of them

after talking to the mayor, max, about wanting to be just a resident in town, he takes you to a bar, in which that’s where you find nocti

ya know he could’ve talked about ANYTHING and his drunk ass decided to talk about HOW HE PROTECTED YOU??? COINCIDENCE??? I THINK NOT

you find nocti and he offers his hand out to you to dance with him, you reluctantly agreed and you two end up break dancing together

this was him proposing to you i’m just sayin—

the night passes and you two begin living your lives as residents of new oakley

when he first calls you partner, it was originally solely because temporarily they’re no longer considered members of babylonia, and so to fit in with the whole wild west type style, nocti refers to you as “partner” and you agree to do the same to him

first time it’s used outside your interaction with him was when nocti has small talk with vann

vann: you’ll only obey orders from that commandant, right? these are the rules of the sky garden

nocti: i don’t listen to anyone’s orders, but if it’s a request from my partner, that’s a different matter

NOCTI WHY ARE YOU SAYING THAT LIKE WE’RE ROMANTICALLY PARTNERS?????

this isn’t the first time he does something like that he’s very consistent about it

truly a devoted man

also “MY partner” ????? he also pretty much refers to you as his partner throughout the whole story i got whiplashed when we were back to being called skk in his affection story

after you and nocti find demont there’s a small good cop bad cop scene (which i found hilarious), but at the end demont couldn’t reveal much vital information due to dying from poison

nocti realizes this poison is something only nigel can control, and stormed out into the center of town in a fit of rage trying to find nigel

calming him down and telling him to retreat to not make a big scene was practically impossible, that is till you shout “trust me— partner!!” and nocti finally calms down and retreats

HELLO??? CALLING HIS NAME HE DIDN'T BAT AN EYE BUT BEING CALLED PARTNER MADE HIM ACTUALLY LISTEN??

i'm absolutely speechless

you two cook up a plan to find out what’s really going on +bonus hand holding at the end

your part was to just do your job as a bartender while nocti handles the investigating, and eventually nigel shows up

nigel asks what’s the difference between a human and a construct, you respond in a way a bartender would explain it, but nigel wants an answer from you as a commandant rather than a bartender

he ends up poisoning you and leaves, nocti arrives a little while later after discovering what the plan is for this town in the next few days

i remembered that before we split up i told him not to be reckless, but in the end i was the one that was careless and ended up in this miserable condition. i no longer had the strength to stand, so i could only slide down to the edge of the bar. at the beginning, i said big words that would make nocti return to cerberus in an honored manner… i didn’t expect to be the one to make him sad for his companions

skk: i'm sorry…. nocti….

nocti: HEY! don’t say such depressing things to me so quickly

nocti then enters a panicked state of not knowing what to do cause skk is poisoned and there's no known cure for it

nocti gritted his teeth. he didn't even know how to give first aid. he regretted not learning more about first aid from vera before

GOT ME SOBBING, EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED, SHATTERED INTO PIECES

you tell nocti to go help the mayor cause if the mayor dies the town will fall

nocti is in pure disbelief that at a time like this you're more worried about someone else and he refused to leave you here

after some reassuring nocti goes ahead and takes care of what's going on in town and immediately after checks if you’re still ok

he hears a painful scream in his communication device and he SPRINTS back to where you are and finds both vera and 21 there attempting to take care of you

21 comments on how nocti is a lot more powerful ITS BECAUSE HIS LOVER IS DYING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM AND HE WANTS TO SAVE THEM BUT DOESN'T KNOW HOW

there’s an encounter with the purifying force, wanting nocti dead since they believe he’s the cause of their aircraft crashing

you tell them that it isn’t his fault and after essentially a stare down between the purifying force and cerberus, the purifying force leaves you all alone since they trust you (thank the overlords for you working with them before and gaining a good work relationship)

you, cerberus, max, and vann think of a plan on what to do next now that you all know where nigel might be located

nocti will go and fight nigel alone since it’s the reason he even came here in the first place while the rest defend the town

you establish a m.i.n.d. connection with nocti, which in turn gives him the poison as well since you’re basically almost a walking corpse at this point

the fact that nocti, with NO hesitation, established a connection with you makes it LOUD AND CLEAR that he will stick with you no matter what even if it leads to his death

cue another hand holding scene, and nocti leaves

vera and 21 get very VERY concerned over your health, yet you’re still adamant about keeping the connection with nocti

21: they want to keep a deep m.i.n.d connection w nocti

vera: DO YOU WANT TO DIE?! if you're deeply connected, your consciousness will be completely bound to him…. if he dies, you also die

skk: he… needs….. me…..

this is LITERALLY a moment where one cares more about their partner THAN THEIR OWN WELL-BEING ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

transitioning over to nocti’s side, he finally confronts nigel

nigel mentions that in order to cure the commandant he needs to be killed, but just HEARING that name come out of his mouth made nocti more full of rage than he’s ever had

this part alone SCREAMED nocti being like "you do NOT have the right to say my partner's name after what you did to them, i am no longer doing this for myself, i'm doing this FOR THEM"

so anyways nocti gets his ass beat 💀💀, nigel lecturing him that he’s still confused and is only driven by anger

the cutscene if you wanna watch it

"commandant… you must be disappointed with me…. damn it… are you mad at me? haha.. me too…. leave everything to me from now on. let’s make that bastard taste our true wrath, partner..."

“i can’t die here yet…. my partner is still waiting for me to come back.”

similar to 21's comment earlier, nigel notices how nocti's steps aren't noisy and chaotic anymore, but steady, firm, and powerful now BECAUSE HIS PARTNER IS ROOTING FOR HIM TO WIN AND HE NEEDED THAT BOOST OF ENCOURAGEMENT... THAT'S WHY YOU WERE SO ADAMANT WITH KEEPING A M.I.N.D. CONNECTION WITH NOCTI

this whole fight scene had me SCREAMING

“my partner and i will use all our strength… to beat you to pieces”

if you still haven’t gotten it DO YOU SEE IT NOW??? HIS MAN IS FULLY DRIVEN TO HIS FULL POTENTIAL BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU AND WANTS TO.. NO... NEEDS TO COME BACK TO YOU

nocti wins and nigel essentially retreats but with a new found respect for his brother

but before he retreats he asks nocti the same question he asked you: what’s the difference between humans and constructs

he gives his own answer and guesses yours (since he was rather confident enough with knowing a lot on how you think) and it boils down to them having the same answer but different font

the place nocti and nigel were fighting in collapses, forcing nocti to leave and never see nigel again

you and nocti are back in the hotel room recovering, and a few locals come in to beg nocti to stay and not go back to babylonia

“but i made a promise with my partner, i want to return to cerberus in a dignified manner…”

after more silly banter everyone leaves you and nocti alone to rest, but neither of you can sleep

nocti brings up the question nigel asked him, and you gave him your actual answer, which is pretty close to what he guessed

nocti: haha… just as i thought, i know you better

skk: but maybe i know you better. for example, what you look like when you’re drunk

nocti: WHAT?! DID I DO ANYTHING WEIRD WHEN I WAS DRUNK???

skk: forget it, stop talking, i’m sleepy

nocti: HEY!! TELL ME NOW!!!!

he’s a literal blushing mess after you told him you saw him drunk

your honor this is literally a newly wed couple

gotta of course mention his affection story so read here for a summary of that as well

the way he ONLY uses the best quality and probably most expensive ingredients to make your food

nocti giving a damn about this whole pancake thing only because YOU care

LIKE HE'S PUTTING HIS PREFERENCES ASIDE TO MAKE YOU HAPPY

MORE HAND HOLDINGGG this time in the form of you helping him mold the pancake shape +bonus nocti blushing

both literally wanting to do the whole working at a bar thing together again in the future that is like PEAK ENDGAME for their marriage

+bonus boss being supportive and naming the new drink and dish that was made after you and nocti

the whole affection story just very clearly and vividly plays out nocti and skk working together flawlessly at the bar like their chemistry was SO GOOD !!!!

very sorry for any grammar errors i'm very hyperfixated on him rn and i needed to scream about it somewhere

anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk i will now think of nocti in a wedding dress /hj

[merv606]

What about a scenario where Daniel has to calm down and comfort Terry who is panicking that Daniel will leave him or he had a nightmare that Daniel wasn’t there with him anymore. Maybe Terry is so deranged that even the sex is rough and edgy and he won’t take no for an answer.

“Wait Terry ….,” he starts, even if he knows it’s pointless.

His husband is frantic, a wild look in his pale blue eyes, and Daniel knows without asking it was a nightmare.

Normally he wakes when Terry is in the throes of one, but this must have been silent.

And those ones, Daniel finds, are the worst.

Without at least the prewarning of noise, it was Terry pawing at him, trying to get his clothes off that woke Daniel.

“I need to feel you …..”

He already has Daniel’s pajama bottoms pulled off, the only thing he had bothered to put on after the quick shower he had taken before settling into a Terry’s arms for the night, just a few hours ago.

“Know you’re really here ….”

Yeah, it’s going to be one of those nights.

There is no point to tell his husband to slow down. Daniel knows this from experience. He knows exactly how this is going to go. He’s just beyond grateful that they made love before bed so he’s still a bit stretched - still a bit open. He’s sure some of his husband’s come is still inside him.

Daniel fishes under the pillow for the lube, hoping it’s there.

He remembers the first time this happened and how it had unnerved him - to see Terry like this.

Rougher than they usually go - Terry is more prone to love making than anything; something that had surprised Daniel, but once he truly thought about it, he realized it made absolute perfect sense.

Terry prefers taking Daniel slowly - savouring it almost - and who can blame him? The time wasted and then the time waiting, even if he had Daniel at that point, but not yet accepting his new life; not yet accepting Terry. All good things come to those who wait though - and now he wears Terry’s name and ring. Now they make love, and even when it’s more frantic and needful, it’s still always so full of love; Terry’s every move and action dripping in it.

This though?

This is anything but.

Because this?

This is fucking.

This is sex at its purest most animalistic.

This is basic primal need.

This is being taken and claimed.

Owned.

Without a doubt of who Daniel belongs to.

This is reaffirming.

For Terry anyway, because for Terry it is solid tangible proof that all is well in their world - that Daniel is here and his.

His to have like this.

His to love like this.

Daniel gives up trying to find the lube from earlier. Instead, grabbing some from the night stand, surprised he’s allowed enough leeway to wriggle out from under Terry to reach it.

The click of the cap, Terry taking it with shaking hands, coating two fingers which quickly disappear into Daniel.

Quick and dirty, but so good - his husband’s fingers know every spot inside him, and have Daniel ready - both his body and his now hard cock.

Terry looks into his eyes, and gets a small nod, already pushing his cock inside.

Blunt nails rake down a broad back, joining the faint scars left from the last time their coupling was like this. Hands cling to broad shoulders as his husband opens him up, starting a punishing rhythms almost right away. A rhythm he knows, even if it’s been awhile.

Nights like these are few and far between now, and Daniel realizes with a sudden clarity that he misses them sometimes.

Not Terry’s distress - he’d never miss that. It pains him to see Terry like that and he’ll gladly do whatever it helps alleviate that - including offering himself up as sacrifice - although truth be told it’s not as much a sacrifice as it pretends to be - because sometimes … he likes it when Terry holds him down and takes what he wants… sometimes he welcomes it … sometimes he craves it.

Exactly like he’s about to get it.

Being taken like this; used like this; a vessel for his husband to pour his love into. A love which gives birth to the fear that causes these nightmares - that make Terry seek this carnal reassurance.

In a way he’s responsible - he knows this - for inspiring his husband the way he does - even if Daniel isn’t trying.

“Let me ….” He tries to turn over.

“No,” a hand around his wrist pinning it above his head, a to the flat he hand hoisting Daniel’s leg up around his thigh.

Daniel forgot. More often than not Terry likes to see his face ….To feel Daniel under him … to surround him completely while he takes him.

Daniel lets his knees fall open - offering himself up without words. Terry responds more to actions like this.

Such a lovely invitation to …..

The older man’s face in his neck, breathing him in as he ruts his hips against Daniel - his cock buried deep.

Their chests are flush, pressed so tight against each other that not even air could move between them.

“Tell me.”

“I’m here.”

“No, tell me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“TELL ME.”

“Yours …. I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” Terry breathes, finally moving back so they aren’t pressed together -

Only want to be yours …..

“Make me yours,” he challenges.

Terry was never one to back down from a challenge - especially not from Daniel who may have been the biggest one he ever took on - but overcoming it has been his greatest achievement - and his greatest reward.

Hands griping his hips, fingers digging into the sparse extra flesh that cover them.

Bruises tomorrow are guaranteed and welcomed. Daniel will press in on them remembering this night - this moment.

His own cock is straining but he doesn’t take himself in hand, turning his head to kiss the arm next to his head instead.

Terry’s arms caging him in although he doesn’t feel trapped. On the contrary - he feels free.

“Right … right there,” Daniel breaths, Terry’s cock like iron as it slams into him - so fucking good his toes curled as he’s fucked hard and fast.

“Baby, please,” Daniel moans out, the only time such a name falls from Daniel’s lips, during these times; Terry the one more liberal with affectionate nicknames.

The headboard hitting the bed almost in sync to his moans.

Their grunts and groans.

“Fuck ,,, there,” he screams, Terry like a man possessed as he fucks in savagely. Grinding in right against that bundle of nerves, Daniel unable to feel anything but every solid inch of his husband’s love inside him - reforming him - forever branded as the older man’s. No one else can give him this - no one else would be allowed.

“I love you so much … so so much …. fuck you have no idea.”

The precision is gone, mindless now as Terry’s movements become sloppier - he’s close.

But, it’s Daniel who comes first, his orgasm triggering Terry - the siren song of his body as it tightens even more something Terry can’t deny.

As if he could deny Daniel anything.

Calm now. The larger body collapses on top of him, Daniel stroking a hand up his sweaty back, tangling in his hair as they kiss.

He’s going to feel this tomorrow and even if it didn’t scratch an itch he himself gets, it would be worth it anyway when he looks at Terry, breaking their kiss to ask.

“Okay?!”

A nod against his neck where the older man buries his head again, a silent thank you as the familiar scent being inf him back doe the rest of the way, Daniel feeling the air from his breathing on his skin.

“I love you,” Terry mumbles against Daniel’s skin.

“Get some sleep,” Daniel replies.

And they do, tangled up in each other’s arms.

[freyasilverbough]

The Cave Bear and the White Wolf - Part 4

Summary: Freya and Halsin return Oliver to Thaniel, and Halsin gives her a new armor set that he had Dammon make after the events of part 1. Freya opens up some about her past, and they get ready to go get Thorm’s relic and end him. Lots of fluff, as fluffy as my oc gets.

Content warnings: mentions of suicide and domestic violence. Death/undeath. Act 2 spoilers

“Be gentle with him,” Halsin whispered to Freya. They stood on the cusp of reuniting Thaniel with his missing half, in the form of a young boy named Oliver. One wrong move, and they could lose their chance to break the curse forever. “He’s much more than a child, though he doesn’t truly know that.”

Freya got down on one knee, lowering herself to Oliver’s height. “Oliver,” she began. Her tone was firm, but gentle, like a mother teaching her child. He’d only ever seen this softness in her once, when she told Arabella of her parents’ fates, and it made his heart squeeze. “You’ve been so brave. No child should ever have to endure what you have, and yet you survived despite all the challenges in your way.” Halsin didn’t dare breathe lest he scare the boy away as she spoke.

“Thaniel did not abandon you, Oliver. You were taken from each other, and now he needs you more than ever. You needn’t invent friends any longer. Thaniel’s returned, and he’s waiting for you. You won’t be alone anymore, I swear it.”

Oliver considered her for a long moment, searching for some lie or deceit in her words. Halsin knew he would find none, as Freya did not make promises lightly. She was the most honest person he’d ever met.

“Alright. I’ll do it. I want to do it. It’ll be nice to see him again,” Oliver said, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

“Well done.” Halsin’s eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled. Soon, the land would begin to heal, and it was all thanks to her. She was incredible. A parasite threatened to take over her mind at any moment, yet she still acted with compassion and kindness. She still found the time to save a bear from a cage simply because she thought it was the right thing to do. This curse was not her responsibility, yet she aided him in breaking it simply because he asked for her help.

“Are you crying? You’re a bit big to be crying, but I suppose that’s okay,” Oliver commented as green light surrounded him. “Bye! And thank you for playing with me.” Oliver vanished in swirls of gold and green and Halsin watched as Freya stared in awe and hope.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and crushed her to his chest. She stiffened for a moment in surprise, as if she’d never had someone embrace her before, and then hesitantly hugged him back. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Thank you.”

He rested his chin on her head and inhaled the scent of thunderstorms and pine and steel as he closed his eyes, soaking her in. He didn’t want to let her go, to give up this moment with her. He let his tears fall silently, thanking Silvanus and Selûne and every other god that would listen for bringing this woman to him.

Her hands moved to his hips as she gently pulled away. “We should go to the inn and speak with Jaheira on our way back to camp,” she said, blue eyes twinkling with hope. “Tomorrow, we’ll head to the mausoleum and find the relic. The time has come to make Ketheric Thorm bleed.” She grabbed his hand in hers and pulled him along with her towards Last Light, everything about her radiating indomitable determination.

Whatever she needed him to be, he would do it. A protector, a friend, an ear to listen, a lover. If she just needed someone to clean her boots, he would volunteer just to have a moment in her company. Ever since he kissed her that day after she raided Moonrise like a madwoman, he’d been so drunk on her that he could think of little else. Memories of Freya drowned every trance, and he spent his waking moments seeking her out. The wild thrill in her eyes with each swing of her blade, the way her hair glowed pure white under the moon, how she stood tall and resolute as she faced every obstacle in her path. Her soft heart, hidden behind that rock hard exterior, wielding her strength as a shield in front of the most vulnerable.

And by the gods, that smile of hers threatened to put him on his knees on the rare occasions it shone through.

They reached Last Light in record speed, propelled by their combined hope and newfound purpose. He squeezed Freya’s hand before reluctantly letting go as Dammon caught his eye. “You go talk to Jaheira,” he told Freya. “This is your victory to share. I want to get some supplies while we’re here.” She nodded, and behind the safety of Isobel’s shield she finally sheathed her sword across her back as she entered the inn. Halsin made his way to the pens where Dammon had set up shop.

“It took a bit longer than I’d hoped, but it’s as ready as it’ll ever be,” the blacksmith said to Halsin as he approached. He held up the new suit for inspection, a perfect replica of the sketches Halsin had given him.

“It’s perfect, Dammon, thank you.” He tossed the tiefling a pouch full of gold coins he’d gathered on their travels. Halsin rarely dealt with money, preferring to craft his own things or trade in favors or materials, so the sum was hardly a loss. He knew that in Baldur’s Gate, Dammon would need it far more than him.

Dammon’s eyes went wide as he felt the weight of the small bag, and Halsin just nodded before he could protest. The blacksmith packed the new suit of armor as Freya exited to the village center. Halsin slung the pack over his shoulder and took her hand once more, falling into an easy, comfortable rhythm as they made their trek to camp.

————

Pure shock dominated Freya’s expression as Halsin carefully emptied Dammon’s pack and she took in its contents.

“How did you…?” She whispered the unfinished question with a fist clutching her heart.

“The first time we marched on Moonrise, I recall a young woman leading the vanguard,” Halsin began. “I remember the whispers that she was Selûne’s Chosen, and that she would lead us to victory.” Freya’s eyes near bulged out of her skull at his recollection. “When I first met you, I had my suspicions. I dreamt of that day the night of the party with the tieflings, and I sketched her in my journal. It wasn’t until I saw you blast those shadows with moonlight that I knew it was you.”

Freya fell to her knees, her identity settling over the two of them like a blanket. He knew why she didn’t tell the others who she was. He understood the guilt and shame and failure that waged war in her mind. She bowed her head, hands resting on her thighs as her shoulders shook with unshed tears.

“I gave the drawings to Dammon when I picked up your armor after you’d been hurt. Forgive me, if I’ve overstepped, I just know that you hold significance in symbols, and I thought that the next time you faced Thorm in battle, you’d want to do it as Selûne’s paladin.”

She gathered the winged helm in her small hands and allowed her tears to fall silently on the steel. She ran her thumbs over the carvings of the moon, and Halsin held his breath while he waited for her verdict.

“I took this armor off that day,” she whispered. “I remember leading everyone to battle, as I’d done a thousand times before, and I watched my brother take a blade that was meant for me.” A lump formed in Halsin’s throat as she closed her eyes and tilted her face to the night sky. “I held him as he took his last breath. We did everything together, he and I. We left the North when we were sixteen and nineteen, never spending a day apart from each other. Our father was a cruel man, and the two of us did everything in our power to protect our mother from him. He was relentless. Always drunk, always angry.

“Az found her. She’d hung herself from the balcony outside her bedroom. I’d never seen him so angry, he was always so good, so kind and annoying and always cracking jokes no matter how fucked everything around us was. He came to my room that night, bags packed on his back, and told me we were leaving. We traveled south, and never looked back. I don’t know if my father still lives, or if Az killed him, and I probably never will.

“That day at Moonrise, I held my brother as he died. I watched as the life and light left his eyes.” She choked on a sob, and Halsin’s own cheeks were wet as he knelt in front of her. “Then I watched as his body cracked and transformed, and his eyes glowed sickly green and skin turned black.” Horror settled in Halsin’s gut, ice spreading through his core. “He lunged at me, and I severed his head. My brother, my sweet, brave brother, was one of the first victims of the curse. I took my armor off, and never wore it again.” She took a deep breath and held the new helmet to her chest, finally opening her eyes and staring into Halsin’s own. Her sorrow and guilt quickly hardened to cold determination and righteous anger.

“Until now.”

————

“How is the fit?” Halsin asked over his shoulder, his back turned to give the paladin her privacy. His chest ached for her, yet swelled with the knowledge that she trusted him and only him with the burden she’d been carrying alone this last century.

“Dammon is one crafty motherfucker,” she said. “It’s excellent. Better, even, than any of my old sets. The scalemail was a perfect touch, I feel like I can actually move rather than being weighed down. You can turn around, by the way.” He did so, and as he took in the sight of her he had no idea how he’d ever doubted she was the Moonmaiden’s Chosen.

The old armor she wore was well-fitted, but in comparison to the new set it was bulky and, as Dammon had said after she was hurt, full of gaps. Where the plate ended, silver scalemail hugged every curve and muscle on her body. Accents of dark blue fabric, a color Halsin had come to associate only with her, flavored the silver steel and symbols of the Moonmaiden intricately adorned the plate. Halsin had no idea how Dammon had pulled it off in such a short amount of time.

He retrieved her new helmet from where it lay at her feet and placed it over her silver braids like a crown. It slid snug into place, another perfect fit. Her sapphire eyes bore into his own, gratitude and hope and trust pouring through her features.

“It feels right. Thank you, for bringing me back to myself,” she whispered. He stepped back, squeezing her shoulder. He circled her, searching for any cracks in the armor she couldn’t see, and found none. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her back to his chest, and she leaned against him. She took her helmet off and dropped it at her feet, then clutched his forearms with both hands and let her head fall back against him.

“Your secrets are safe with me, my friend. Your trust is an honor I can’t even begin to describe.” Halsin kissed her hair again and rested his cheek on her head. He meant every word. He would guard her back and her secrets with his life.

“You’ll come with me tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Wherever you need me, that’s where I’ll be.” She spun in his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead against his chest.

“I need you to promise me something,” she murmured.

“Anything.”

“If I fall tomorrow, burn my body. Don’t let me change like Az.” The thought alone made Halsin’s blood run cold. He took her face in his large hands and tilted her chin up to look at him. A lump formed in his throat as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You have my word,” he vowed to her. He knew that if she fell, it meant he was dead. He would be her shield whether she liked it or not, and he would not fail her.

[alterchaos]

SCHOOL

The weekend is over and Thorndyke siblings return to school, both eager to make some changes in their lives...

(cw: bullying; please read the foreword)

inspired by: Sonic X Episode 6

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: A BATTLE BETWEEN BROS

NEXT CHAPTER: PARTY HARDLY

A quick foreword from the author:

Hi, everyone. I want to start out this chapter in particular with a few words. This is one of two chapters in this series that will openly depict the act of bullying, including things that may be distressing to read. Reader discretion is advised; however, the scene itself is short and isolated from the rest of the content and towards the beginning. If you wish to skip this scene, stop reading when you see a row of ♡♡♡ and pick back up when you see the same row later down the page.

I also want to make clear that while the issue of bullying is central to Eve’s character, and she has been through it countless times, it is not a place I want to actively sit in more than necessary. One scene is enough to get the point across (more on the other chapter when we get to it). Alter Chaos is supposed to be a story about hope and how we can heal through love. This is only a starting point for the long journey and development that lies ahead for her, and while we need to take the time to acknowledge that it happened, we also need to be willing to let it go and keep moving forward.

Beyond the story purpose of this scene, I am a passionate advocate against bullying. It is real. It does happen and it is a horrible thing I would never wish on anyone. While I adjusted a few parts and phrases to be less intense, these are all real things that were said and done to me in school, starting at her age (7), by both faculty and students alike. I don’t say that to ask for pity. I’m over it. I’ve made my peace. I say it to offer a level of groundedness and nuance that may otherwise be missed, especially in the Sonic and shonen-ness of it all.

I write to all of you to look inside yourselves and to believe that you can be brave, even in the smallest of ways. We all have that choice deep within ourselves to be who we want to be. Nobody can ever truly take it away from us.

All we have to do is take that first step.

—----------------------------------------------------

riiiiiiiing

The children of Station Square walked into the school, ready to begin another day full of learning. None though, were as excited as the blonde girl whose hair ribbons blew wild and free in the warm spring wind. She smiled with confidence. After having stood up to that Eggman villain the other day, she was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

She was cool now.

No bullies could bring her down.

“Evelyn!!”

The girl in question held her head high and kept on walking.

“Hey, Evelyn!! Wait up!!”

However nice he’d been to her that day, it still didn’t change a thing.

“Slow down!!”

Besides, even if she did want to believe it, he’d never change that easily, right? As soon as he’d see his friends, he would join them, just as quiet as always even when they were mean to her. She knew that. He knew that.

So why was he still being so persistent?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Hey look, it’s the complete waste of space.”

“Right on schedule, freak.”

Eve didn’t need to look to know who was there. Her heart skipped a beat in a moment of fear, their words cutting deep like a blade. This time, however, she wasn’t alone nor defenseless.

This time, she had Sonic.

She took a deep breath, continuing her walk into the school building with each courageous stride.

“Huh? Too good for us all of a sudden?”

Keep walking. Keep walking.

She heard footsteps closing in.

“Say something, you fat, ugly freak!”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

In less than a moment, she felt a powerful grip on her tiny wrist.

“Ow! L-Let go!”

“Or what? You think you’re so much better than us just because your precious mommy and daddy are so rich and famous?”

Eve looked around for help with pleading eyes, though all that saw simply turned away. Whispers and laughter filled the air as she attempted to struggle her way free to no avail…

Weak…

Helpless…

She looked back to her brother with the same plea, all hope leaving her as she watched him stand there, frozen in place. She’d been a fool.

Nothing had changed.

One of the bullies smirked while the other chuckled to himself, “At least your pathetic, pushover brother gets it.”

The girl’s face grew red as she quickly turned away from him. She struggled to get her wrist free a bit more, but was stopped by a sudden jerk, bringing her face close to the rotten duo’s. There was no escaping the words that came next.

It was always the worst part.

“You’re worthless. Nobody wants to be your friend. Not even your own mommy and daddy want to be around you. So do us all a small favor and throw yourself off the school roof.”

Her eyes flew wide.

“Just go and die already.”

With that, they loosened their grip just enough for Eve to yank her arm free. She ran into the school building in a panic without looking back.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

—----------------------------------------------------

As his sister disappeared down the school hall in a hurry, Chris wrestled with himself. He’d been so ready to stand up for her, to tell those two off the moment he’d seen them and yet, he hesitated, and that hesitation cost her so much more than simply a good day at school. They were right: he was a pushover, pathetic, unable to live up to the courage and heroism of his new friend. He felt disheartened at the new and loving bond he’d no doubt just lost with her, clinging tightly instead to one built on malice and harm, and he had no one to blame this time but himself.

However…

Chris clenched his fists.

Even if she’d never forgive him for abandoning her for so long…

He looked at the two laughing children with a newfound determination.

That also meant he had all the power he needed to make this right.

Terrified yet ready, Chris took the first steps forward towards creating the future he wanted.

—----------------------------------------------------

sniff hic

Eve wasn’t aware of where she’d ended up, just that she knew it was quiet. Quiet meant that there was no one around to hurt her. Quiet meant safe. She didn’t care to look at which hallway she’d ended up in, opting instead to stay curled up with her face buried in her knees. She just needed to cry herself dry before heading to class. That way, no one would bother her with the details of what happened or get roped in on her behalf. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer the way she did.

She just wanted to be left alone.

“Excuse me?”

No. She just wanted to be left alone.

“Evelyn, right? I saw you running through the city the other day.”

The voice did sound kind though, almost like Sonic’s. Wet, aqua eyes peeked up from the comfort of her knees.

She sniffed, wiping a tear away, “W-Who are you?”

The similarly blonde girl smiled at her, “My name is Helen.”

“H-Hi, Helen…”

“I saw you running through the halls crying just like you were back in the city. Are you okay?”

Eve began fidgeting nervously with a small strand of her hair, “S-Sorry for worrying you…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I-I…I don’t w-want you to feel hurt b-because of me too…”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Eve slowly began unraveling herself from her knees as she told Helen everything, all the things the bullies were saying to her as well as everyone’s reluctance to help despite her pleas. She didn’t know why but, despite the knot in her stomach, she felt she could trust her. She expressed not just the day’s incident, but prior incidents as well, feeling a bit of weight release from her chest as she acknowledged each out loud. Helen watched without judgment, listening intently until the small girl was finished.

Helen grabbed a few tissues from her backpack hanging off the handlebars of her wheelchair, handing a few to Eve to help clear her nose and wipe her tears.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. That must have been so hard and I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. If I’d known…nevermind. Do you feel any better?”

Eve nodded, too embarrassed and nervous to look the older girl in the eyes.

“Hey, there’s no shame in feeling the way you do. Believe me…” Helen paused a moment before continuing, “Would you like to join me and my friends for lunch today? You aren’t allergic to anything are you?”

Eve shook her head, “A-Are you sure? I-I don’t want them to go after you too…”

“Hmph!” Helen flashed a confident smile, pumping up one of her muscular arms in a display of strength, “Then I guess they’ll just have to deal with me too!”

Eve giggled, wiping away her remaining tears, “Y-Yeah! I’ll see you at lunch then, Helen!”

—----------------------------------------------------

After receiving her tray of food and searching nervously for her new friend, Eve found Helen at a table with two other kids around her age. She waved, beckoning the fidgeting girl over with a free hand. Eve made her way over to the trio, sitting next to Helen before releasing a small, sheepish smile.

“H-H-Hi…”

“This is Evelyn, guys. She’s my new friend I told you all about earlier.”

“A-Actually…u-um…E-E-Eve is f-fine…”

A dark hand was the first to reach out, “Hey there, Eve. I’m Danny!”

Eve shook it back, “H-Hi, Danny…”

“And I’m Francis!” The redhead with freckles followed suit with a fair hand.

“H-Hi, Francis…N-Nice to meet you b-both…” She didn’t even realize the small knot she was making in the strand of hair she was twirling around her finger.

Helen placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her reassurance, “Don’t worry, Eve. You can be yourself around us.”

Danny picked up, “Yeah! None of us really had anyone to hang out with for one reason or another, so when we realized that we each had that in common, well…”

Francis jumped in, “Boom! Instant friendship!”

Eve smiled a bit more, a bit of tension leaving her even though her voice remained soft, “That’s really sweet. Th-Thank you for inviting me in to be a part of this.”

“Of course!”

Her smile fell as she noticed the pair of bullies storming to a table off to the side. They seemed to have a hard time sitting down, as if they were sore or in pain. Eve’s curiosity piqued though when they turned their heads, locking eyes with her. If looks could kill, she would have been dead seven times over. Even more curious, however, were their faces: one donned a swollen black eye while the other had a couple large bruises lining his cheek and jaw.

Francis was the first to comment, “What happened to those jerks?”

“I don’t know,” Helen stared them down just as intensely, “But I don’t like the way they’re looking at our friend here.”

Danny pounded a fist into his free hand, “Yeah, well, they’ll just have to deal with us first.”

Before Eve had a chance to try and calm them down, her gaze shifted to that of the door where a beaten, bruised boy slowly made his way into the cafeteria holding an ice pack to his eye. She recognized the auburn, spiky hair immediately, her eyes flying wide in surprise. No attempts at logic explained the phenomenon before her, nor could it have prepared her for what she saw next. Despite the state he was in and the embarrassment he should be feeling as all eyes fell on him in shock, he stood tall, smiling to himself without a care in the world.

There was no regret in his eyes.

Had he…

Had he really…

“Chris-?”

CRASH!!!

Time slowed in that instant as the glass panels of the cafeteria windows shattered. Screams filled the large room as everyone ducked under their tables, avoiding the debris. Rumbling could be heard throughout the halls as part of the infrastructure crumbled along the outer edge of the now-shattered wall. Everyone began to run for the exit doors in a desperate attempt for escape, yet their paths were blocked in mere moments by a set of large and imposing robots. Looking back to the shattered windows, a massive robot with spider-like limbs now blocked the way, locking in all of the students and teachers for whatever awaited them next. The cockpit of the massive robot descended, revealing a large, mustached man inside.

“Eggman…”

“Who?”

“W-We have to run!”

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Not so fast, pipsqueaks.” Eggman’s voice boomed over the hijacked loudspeaker.

“Who are you!?!?”

“What do you want with us!?!?”

The man twirled his mustache just like the villains in Eve’s favorite cartoons, “Me? Why I’m only the greatest scientist in the known universe! The wonderful, the ingenous, Dr. Ivo Robotnik! My purpose at your fine establishment today is to recruit all of you young and bright minds to join my glorious empire, the Eggman Empire!! NYAHAHAHHAHAAA!!!”

“Like we would ever join you!!”

“Yeah!!”

“I thought that might be the general consensus, which is why I stayed up all night preparing your new curriculum. Anyone who refuses to comply will not be allowed to leave. HO HO HO HO!!!”

Eve stood tall, throwing a small piece of debris at the cockpit, cracking it in one hit, “We aren’t scared of you!! Sonic will come to save us before we know it!!” She wasn’t about to let the villainous Eggman hurt her new friends. Even if she couldn’t do much, she would stand and fight.

“Who’s Sonic?”

“Dunno.”

“Sonic?”

Whispers of this mysterious hero began floating around the cafeteria, instilling hope.

Eggman looked to the source of the outburst in a fit of rage, his eyes instead going wide with recognition over the small, frail girl before him. He smiled sinisterly, “My, my, my…I remember you. You’re that insignificant speck that ruined my plans last time with your ridiculous plane stunt.”

“Evelyn? Ruined plans?”

“Plane stunt? Did she really?”

“No way…”

Eve paid no mind to their whispers, continuing to stare down the villain before her in a bold act of rebellion.

Sonic would save her.

She had no doubt.

She had nothing to fear.

“Hmmm…very well. I guess I could do with one less minion.”

“-!!?”

One of the robotic arms swiftly lunged at her, claws stretched wide and ready to steal her away. Eve didn’t have time to run by the time she noticed. Just as it was about to grab her though, she felt a push and her back hitting the ground beneath her. Her eyes flew wide as she witnessed her savior, in the grip of the robotic claw.

“CHRISTOPHER!!!”

Time slowed as Eve watched her brother, his eyes wide in fear, be ripped away from her. The robotic arm jerked him slightly as it prepared itself. Then, in one swift motion, it flung itself to the side of the robot’s body, releasing it’s clawed grip from behind. Chris screamed as his body launched into the air, away from the school. Eve ran to the shattered window panes of the second-story building, trying to reach out to him when he was already miles away, fading from sight as he fell into the city skyline nearby.

And then, he was gone.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Eve collapsed to her knees in horror, her tears and rapid, shallow breaths overtaking her as the full weight of what just happened sunk in. Chris, her brother, was gone and it was all her fault. If only she hadn’t tried to be brave, to act cool in the face of danger, to be some kind of hero. She put everyone in danger again, and now he was gone without her ever having the chance to acknowledge that he cared, to give him the chance that he wanted to be there for her. She was right.

They were all right.

“Hmmm…I was going to get rid of you too but I’ve changed my mind. I think we all learned a valuable lesson here today. Isn’t that right, class?”

“Wrong, Eggman!”

Everyone turned their faces to the sight of the hero standing tall atop the robot’s shoulder piece. His figure was silhouetted by the light of the sun, and his emerald gaze glowed fierce and unforgiving. In his arms rested the semi-conscious figure of a boy with spiky hair.

Eve began sobbing joyfully at the scene. He was alive! Her brother was alive!

Chris was alive!

“RRRRRRRRRGHHHH!!!!!! YOU BLASTED HEDGEHOG!!! FINE!!! I’LL TAKE YOU OUT MYSE-!!!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish that statement before the blue figure grabbed one of the robotic arms with his free hand, pulled it close, and stomped it down hard into the cockpit. Eggman ducked, barely avoiding the claw as his latest creation began to fail him. One by one, each of the robotic arms began to lose their grip on the side of the building, causing the machine to begin to tumble. The large hedgehog jumped down without a word, Chris still in his arms. He tapped the struggling robot with his foot, giving it just the push it needed to fully lose its grip and tumble to the ground below. He watched just as quietly as Eggman broke free from the cockpit, calling upon a smaller robot to take him away up into the sky.

The mysterious hero bent down close to Eve, his vengeful gaze still fixed upon the robots at the door, “Hold him for me for a sec, will ya?”

Eve complied, hugging Chris tightly as he disappeared. In a simple gust of wind, all the robots were wiped completely out, their shells lining the floor in a metallic massacre. The swift hero then reappeared at her side as if he’d never left.

The fight was over before it ever began.

“...”

“...”

“YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

Roaring cheers from students and teachers alike filled the cafeteria. Everyone was saved and chanting the name of their mysterious new hero, Sonic the Hedgehog.

Everyone that is…except Eve.

The small girl simply sat there in complete shock, trembling like a leaf between the horror of nearly losing her brother and the awe of witnessing Sonic’s raw power. It was all too much to take in and her mind simply couldn’t process it. Sonic, noticing this, immediately knelt down to her level. All signs of the frightening, vengeful warrior were gone, replaced by the kind and gentle friend she coveted so much.

“You okay?”

“Y-Y-Yeah…”

“Are you sure about that, sis?”

Eve’s eyes met her brother’s. While he was busy smiling in his beaten state, her face grew hot with tears. She didn’t know what she felt more in that moment: anger, joy, it didn’t matter. It was simply all too much for her to hold in.

“Y-YOU IDIOT!! YOU’RE SERIOUSLY ASKING ME THAT!! FIRST YOU GET BEAT UP FOR ME AND TH-THEN-!! I-IF YOU HAD REALLY-!! I-I NEVER WOULD HAVE FORGIVEN MYSELF!!” She began sobbing and shaking harder, “Y-YOU SCARED ME!! I-I-I THOUGHT YOU WERE-!!”

Chris pushed past his pain and hugged his little sister with a slight wince, “Sorry, Evelyn…”

She hugged back, “Eve is fine. It’s what my friends call me.”

Sonic smiled at the display, his heart overflowing with happiness seeing the growing bond between these two siblings. While at their side for support, he took care not to disturb such a special moment for them.

Eve was the first to pull back, looking over his injuries with concern, “Y-You’re really hurt because of me. I’m so…I’m so sorry.”

Chris winced again as he shifted his position slightly, “Y-Yeah…they got me pretty good, huh?” He laughed before smiling, “I finally did it though! I stood up to them! From now on, nobody bullies my little sister and gets away with it!” He ruffled Eve’s messy hair slightly in his own, unique way, getting a small laugh from her.

“Wait, so Eggman wasn’t the one who beat you up?”

“Nah. He barely even left a scratch…apart from throwing me halfway across the city of course hehehe…”

Sonic breathed a sigh of relief. His rage and thirst for vengeance quelled knowing that Eggman hadn’t gone that far.

“Wow!! Sonic, right!?”

“You’re so awesome!! Can we have an autograph!!”

Eve shuddered, turning away with panicked eyes from the two bruised kids excitedly rushing Sonic for attention.

Chris decided to follow up Sonic’s question with a devious smirk, “Actually, I got beat up by the two bullies that have been harrassing my little sister for so long. When I confronted them, they called me all sorts of names before one of them punched me square in the face. I didn’t just take it though. I fought back. I even made sure to give that jerk a black eye. The other one only got away with a few bruises on the side of his face.”

Both kids’ eyes went wide in terror as the cool, blue hero paused, his ear twitching in response, “You know something, Chris…” He remained smiling, a more crazed look crossing his face as he cracked a few knuckles threateningly, “I never liked bullies.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE’RESORRYWE’RESORRYWE’RESORRY…” The two of them bowed at the girl profusely while Sonic folded his arms with a satisfying huff. After a few moments of zany awkwardness and confusion between both parties, they ran off, promising to change their ways.

“And that takes care of that.” Sonic brushed his hands together as if to clear the dust from them.

“Eve!!”

“Oh my gosh!! Are you okay!!?”

“We were so worried!!”

Her new friends rushed her, Helen checking her over for any injuries while Danny and Francis sat down next to her for support.

Eve smiled, “I’m fine, everyone. Really.” She looked to her brother, “Thanks to Chris, that is.”

“Woah, Chris? Really?”

“Hmmm…I guess he’s alright now in my book. What do you think, Helen?”

The girl in question folded her arms, “...”

Eve smiled, her eyes sparkling expectantly.

Helen sighed, “Fine. If he’s really left those jerks behind, then I’ll accept him.”

“Yeah, good riddance to those-Wait, what am I getting accepted for?”

Eve hugged him excitedly, “To join our friend group, silly!”

“Welcome to the cool club, Chris!”

“One of us! One of us!”

While everyone was laughing and celebrating their new friend, Eve noticed Sonic had slipped away quietly from the scene, off on some other grand adventure to save the day. She smiled, her heart filled with warmth from the love and light he’d brought into her life in such a brief time. With her whole life ahead of her, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what other joys and changes he would bring into her world. All she knew was that she was happy, finally on her way to belonging in a world she’d never known.

Life never felt so free.

CHAPTER END

[finalmemesx]

Red, White & Royal Blue

By Casey McQuiston

“What’d you steal today?”

“Anything good this week?”

“That one is true.”

“Oh yeah, that was a wild night.”

“That can’t possibly be a real class you’re taking.”

“Whose wedding?”

“You’re going to ask them to dance, then?”

“Something is wrong with both of you.”

“Could be weirdly effective.”

“Do either of y’all know what a viscount is?”

“It’s cute how you think everything is about you.”

“It should be, honestly.”

“Do you know how to waltz?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

“I believe perhaps you should consider switching to water.”

“I want so badly for you to explain to me how this is funny.”

“Please, tell me another joke.”

“Is it too late to take the faking-my-death option?”

“Are you really not understanding how much I don’t care at all how you feel about this?” “You won’t miss anything.”

“So there’s really no way I’m getting out of this?”

“I don’t know what else to do, is the thing.”

“Shakespearean in that hopefully I’ll get stabbed to death.”

“I can’t believe I have to learn this garbage.”

“That’s because you are a nerd.”

“Everything looks like a museum.”

“Have you practiced what you’ll say tomorrow?”

“I think you’ve got the right idea.”

“Do you mind?”

“This is your fault!”

“How is this possibly my fault?”

“I cannot believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.”

“So you do have some fight in you.”

“I’d rather not be the little spoon.”

“Do you really want to have that conversation?”

“I didn’t realize you heard that.”

“I feel like you’re missing the point.”

“How can I be wrong about my favorite? It’s a personal truth.”

“It’s a personal truth that is wrong and bad.”

“You exhaust me.”

“I enchant you.”

“I’ll call security.”

“Fair enough.”

“Wow, I thought I could trust you.”

“It was like you were tying to set him on fire with your mind.”

“What is your point?”

“Bring them to the house.”

“Are you done? I have some actual work to do.”

“Because we all knew better than to try and stop you.”

“Just bring me my pizza.”

“It ever make you laugh to think how much this pisses assholes off?”

“You really think it’s such a bad idea?”

“You don’t think I was out of line?”

“You were in on this, weren’t you?”

“Did this man just say ‘sweat drop down my balls’?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I’m going for a fun, and you’re coming with me.”

“You’re not surprised?”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Is this a diabolical scheme of seduction?”

“Cool to see you’re not dead or anything.”

“Do you mind?”

“Find your way here okay?”

“You’ve been dodging me for weeks.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“I don’t like that look.”

“Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Call it historical curiosity.”

“So you’re upset because the rumors aren’t true.”

“You are a wanker.”

“I’m going to need you to not call me that right now.”

“You’ve always backed me up until now.”

“Why don’t you say whatever it is you need to say?”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“It’s not about that. This time is different.”

“Hello, excuse me, can we get another round of these please?”

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re a demon?”

“I trust you can handle yourself?”

“Bisexuality is truly a rich and complex tapestry.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Would you describe it as supersonic?”

“Can y’all go sit somewhere else?”

“Awesome, fuckin’ love doing things out of spite.”

“Has anyone shown you around the clubhouse yet?”

“You really are determined to get shoved out of an emergency hatch one day, huh?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Well, I hope it was fun, because if anyone ever finds out about this, we’re all fucked.”

“Yes, we can unpack the ironic symbolism later. Go.”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m going to spend tonight in jail.”

“Okay, I’m clearing my schedule for the afternoon.”

“I don’t believe in systems when I’m on vacation.”

“How long have you lot come out here?”

“Hope you’re ready to fuckin’ party.”

“Fuck off, five-nine is average.”

“Can’t you ever just do one thing without having to be so goddamn extra about it?”

“Do you have any idea what that means?”

“You think I don’t care as much as you?”

“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”

“I never said you were a coward.”

“Your hair in the mornings is truly a wonder to behold.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”

“I suppose we do have to face the consequences at some point.”

“When are you going to tell us who you’re dating?”

“You gonna fight me?”

“I want you to tell me why.”

“You’re not the same.”

“How the fuck did they get these?”

“You’re giving my ulcer an ulcer.”

“But short for a stormtrooper.”

“Thank God you’re here. I was about to come get you myself.”

“I fucking love you.”

“You’re too young to understand.”

“That is the bravest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, will you all shut up for a second?”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I said, you look great, baby!”

“My life is a cosmic joke and you’re not a real person.”

“You should have tried to stop me.”

“Are you actually quitting for real?”

“How are things over there?”

“Wanted to come by to see if I could help with anything.”

“Will you please just help me pick?”

“Fire under my ass for no good goddamn reason.”

“You’re kind of hot when you get all indignant.”