#these characters are close because they’re like ~brothers~ or ~sisters~’ and then go back to exactly what they were doing before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ch0llies · 7 days ago

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EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO. PT.4

read pt. 1 & pt. 2 & pt.3 here

brothersbestfriend!matt x innocent!reader

You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way. But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.

story warnings: oral (both receiving), corruption kink, brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you... don't read!

word count: 6k

ib: @ariestrxsh’s young god

A knock.

On your door.

Matt’s voice reaches through the door.

“Sweetheart?”

You swallow hard. Matt just waits. The door creaks open, and Matt steps inside.

And the second his eyes land on you, he stops. His jaw tightens. His hands twitch at his sides. His entire body goes still.

Because fuck.

You’re sitting on your bed, legs folded beneath you, your tiny white camisole hugging your large chest in ways that shouldn’t be legal, the fabric so thin, so delicate, so small that it barely covers anything.

And your shorts?

They aren’t even shorts.

They’re practically underwear.

Matt’s throat bobs and his fingers flex.

His entire demeanor shifts, his eyes darkening, his breath deepening, his body physically pained by the way you’re looking up at him- so oblivious, so sweet, so fucking unaware of what you’re doing to him.

Your glasses slip slightly down your nose, your big, wide eyes blinking at him like you don’t realize how you look right now.

Like you don’t realize what you’re doing to him.

Matt exhales slowly, jaw clenched, fingers curled into fists as he reaches behind him and pushes the door shut.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stands there, staring at you, wrecked, ruined, barely holding himself together.

You just tilt your head slightly, still looking at him with that same soft, innocent confusion.

“I thought you had homework to do?” you ask softly, oblivious. Your lips part slightly, your expression sweet, genuine, trusting. “…Do you need some help?”

Matt laughs. It’s not a real laugh. It’s low, dry, amused, filled with disbelief.

He drags a hand down his face, shaking his head slightly, his jaw still tight, his muscles still tense.

He looks at you again. “You really believed that?”

Your brows furrow. You blink at him, confused, lost, unaware. “…Believe what?”

Matt just shakes his head again, smirking now, disbelieving, wrecked.

He takes a step closer. His gaze never leaves yours, dark and heavy, his expression unreadable but charged.

You watch him, still sitting on your bed, your glasses slipping down your nose again.

Without thinking, you lift a finger, pushing them back up, blinking up at him through your long lashes.

Matt swallows hard.His whole body feels like it’s straining against itself, fighting something primal, something dangerous.

He tilts his head slightly, his voice low, thick, wrecked. “You really thought I had homework?”

Your brows furrow slightly, lips parting just a little, still looking up at him like you don’t understand. “…You don’t?”

Matt huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not even enrolled in classes yet.”

You blink, genuinely confused. “Then why did you lie?”

Your voice is so soft, so sweet, so completely innocent in contrast to the absolute war raging inside him.

Matt’s jaw clenches.

His eyes flicker over your face, over your bare shoulders, your parted lips, your soft, warm thighs pressed together beneath those tiny fucking shorts.

He groans, running a hand through his hair before crouching down in front of you, leveling himself with you, face to face, his knees on the floor, his hands resting on your bed- caging you in.

You feel your breath hitch, your body going still.

Matt stares at you, dead in the eye, his voice dropping an octave as he says,

“Because I wanted to fuck you instead.”

Your breath catches, a soft, startled gasp slipping from your lips before you can stop it.

Your thighs press together instinctively, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as Matt’s words sink in.

Your body feels too hot, too tight, too restless, his presence so close, so overwhelming that you don’t even realize what you’re saying before the words slip out-

“D-does that mean I’ve earned it?”

Matt’s eyes darken immediately. His lips part, his fingers tighten against the mattress.

“I guess so, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flips.

Matt’s fingers drag up your thighs, slow and deliberate, teasing.

He drops fully to his knees, settling between your legs, looking up at you now, his broad hands trailing higher and higher, his grip firm and possessive.

His breath is heavy, his eyes hungry.

“Tonight’s my last night,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing your thighs. “And I need to feel you wrapped around me.”

Your lips part, your stomach tightening, something warm pooling deep inside you.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, your voice barely above a whisper.

“F-feel me wrapped around you?”

Matt groans, his jaw tight, tense, barely holding himself together..

He rises from the floor, slow, predatory, controlled, his hands dragging up your body, his fingers brushing over your hips, your waist, your ribs.

He crawls over you, the mattress shifting beneath his weight, his body caging you in, surrounding you, pressing you down into the sheets.

His forearms bracket your head, his chest hovering just above yours, his breath warm and uneven, his lips so close to yours you can barely think.

His voice drops into a low, strained rasp.

“Yes, angel.”

His nose brushes yours.

His lips barely touch yours, teasing, hovering, making you wait.

“I need to feel you pulsing,” he murmurs, his fingers dragging over your waist, gripping you tighter, his breath hot against your lips.

His hips press against yours, the warmth of his body suffocating, intoxicating.

“After I make you cum around me- ”

A kiss- light, fleeting, taunting.

“Again.”

Another- deeper, but still not enough.

“And again.”

His hands tighten, his fingers digging in, his body pressing closer.

“And again.”

His lips finally crash into yours, taking everything.

Matt kisses you hard, his lips claiming, his hands everywhere, fingers threading through your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wants it. His mouth moves with desperation, worship, control, like he’s starving for you, like he’s trying to devour every breath you take.

He presses you further into the bed, his weight shifting, guiding you until you’re in the center of the mattress, surrounded by him.

His hands glide over your skin, slow and deliberate, trailing down your neck, your sides, your waist, his fingers dragging over your ribs like he’s memorizing every inch.

A low groan rumbles in his chest when you try to wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him closer, to feel more.

Matt shakes his head.

His lips curve into a dark, teasing smirk, his hand gripping your thigh firmly, keeping it down.

“Not yet, angel.”

His voice is low, thick, wrecked, his breath hot against your swollen lips.

He starts moving down.

His mouth leaves a slow, open-mouthed trail down your jaw, your throat, your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste, to tease, to claim.

Your breath shudders, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to hold onto something, anything.

Matt just chuckles against your skin, his lips brushing against your clothed torsobefore moving lower.

Your stomach tenses, your thighs pressing together, needy, desperate, overwhelmed.

Matt reaches the band of your frilly little shorts, his breath hot against your hip, his fingers toying with the lace, his teeth grazing the edge.

Your whole body locks up.

Matt bites down, just enough to tease, just enough to make you whimper.

His hands grip the delicate fabric, but instead of pulling them off with his fingers-

He uses his teeth.

Slowly.

Dragging them down and down and down.

Your head tilts back, your chest rising and falling unevenly, your fingers digging into the sheets.

Matt groans against your skin, his hands spreading your thighs apart, dragging you toward the edge of the bed.

“Let me take care of you, angel.”

His hands grip your thighs, firm but teasing, spreading them apart just enough to make you squirm.

His lips hover dangerously close to where you need him most, his breath hot, uneven, deliberate.

But he doesn’t move.

Not yet.

Instead, his fingers glide up your inner thighs, featherlight, barely touching, his thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles, teasing you, making you ache.

Your hips shift, your breath coming out in uneven little pants, but Matt just chuckles, his hands holding you still.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low, amused, dark.

His lips brush the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, kissing, biting, sucking- everywhere except where you need him most.

Your fingers grip the sheets, frustration coiling tight inside you.

“Matty-”

He hums, pleased.

“Patience, angel.”

You whimper, shifting again, trying to chase his mouth, but his grip tightens, holding you in place.

“Not yet,” he murmurs against your skin, his tongue dragging over a fresh bruise he just left.

Your stomach flutters violently.

Heat pools low, thick, overwhelming. You can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything except feel.

“Matty, please,” you whisper, your voice barely there.

Matt smirks against your skin.

“That’s not begging, sweetheart.”

His teeth graze your thigh, biting down just enough to make you jolt, gasp, tremble.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging slightly, desperate, needy.

Matt groans lowly, his fingers tightening around your thighs.

“Try again.”

Your chest rises and falls unevenly, frustration and desperation tangled together in one messy, overwhelming knot.

You need more.

You need him.

Your voice wobbles, your lips parting as heat floods through you, wrecking you, consuming you.

“Matty,” you whimper, your thighs trembling in his grip.

His smirk deepens.

“Yeah?”

“Please,” you whisper, breathless, desperate.

“Please, what?”

You whimper, shifting against his hold, panting, overwhelmed.

“Please, Matty, please-”

His grip tightens. His breath shudders.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

Matt hums low in his throat, satisfied, pleased, soaking in the sound of you breaking for him.

He finally gives in.

His grip tightens on your thighs as he leans in, his mouth hot and hungry as he presses slow, open-mouthed kisses against your soft heat.

You gasp, twitch, whimper, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his breath hot, teasing, his lips dragging, pressing, nipping, kissing.

His hands shift, gripping your thighs tighter, spreading you wider, making sure you can’t move, can’t escape, can’t do anything except take what he’s about to give you.

His breath fans over you, the sensation sending sharp jolts of heat through your body.

His lips part against your skin.

His tongue flicks out, dragging a line up your soaking slit.

A sharp, desperate gasp rips from your throat, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling, gripping, helpless.

Matt groans, the sound low, deep, wrecked.

His fingers dig into your thighs as his mouth moves, teasing, tasting, devouring.

Your head tilts back, your breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, your body trembling beneath his hands, beneath his tongue, beneath him.

He hums again, the vibration sending another wave of warmth rolling through you.

His grip tightens, his lips move slower, deeper, hungrier.

His mouth moves with purpose, slow and taunting, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against your clit, his tongue flicking out to taste, to tease, to ruin.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, your thighs trembling beneath his grip.

Matt chuckles against your clit, low and satisfied, the sound vibrating against you, sending a new wave of warmth rolling through your body.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets bolder, firmer, rougher, his movements controlled but relentless, his tongue flicking, stroking, pressing.

Your head tilts back, your eyes squeezing shut as the sensation overwhelms you, consumes you, drowns you.

“Matty-” you gasp, your fingers pulling, tugging, desperate.

He groans at that, the sound rough, deep, wrecked, like he’s just as affected as you are.

His hands shift, gripping tighter, pulling you closer, refusing to let you pull away, refusing to let you escape what he’s doing to you.

“Take it,” he mutters against your skin, his breath hot, uneven, teasing.

His lips curl into a smirk, his tongue moving in slow but hard circles against your puffy clit, his grip tightening when he feels your thighs start to shake.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?”

Your breath stutters, your body trembling, your stomach tightening, coiling, burning.

Matt chuckles darkly, his fingers pressing soothing circles into your thighs as his tongue flicks against you just right.

The warmth builds, sharp, overwhelming, consuming.

Matt groans again, his grip never loosening, his mouth never stopping.

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

His mouth moves with precision, slow and unrelenting, his tongue flicking, teasing, stroking exactly where you need it.

He can feel it, the way your thighs shake, the way your stomach tightens, the way your breath catches on every movement of his mouth.

“Matty-” Your voice breaks, high and desperate, breathless, overwhelmed.

He hums against you, pleased, amused, possessive.

“You gonna cum for me, angel?” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot, teasing.

Your body tenses, your stomach coiling, twisting, burning. Matt doesn’t let up.

His tongue moves faster, his hands gripping you tighter, his breath uneven as he feels your thighs start to shake.

His jaw clenches, his movements sharper, more deliberate, his mouth relentless.

Before you could even warn him, your body locks up.

The pressure snaps, sharp and blinding, crashing over you in waves, overwhelming, consuming, impossible to fight.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs trembling, your hips arching off the bed as you grind into his face, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as the sensation washes through you.

Matt groans, his grip firm in pushing you back against the mattress, grounding you, dragging it out, letting you feel every second.

He only pulls away when you go limp beneath him. His lips press against your inner thigh, slow, soothing, teasing.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, grinning against your skin

Matt sits up slowly, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of what he just did.

His grin is smug, satisfied, his blue eyes practically glowing through the dim light of your bedroom, dark with amusement, with hunger, with possession.

He watches you closely, taking in the way your cheeks are flushed, your glasses slightly fogged, your chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.

Your thighs twitch, still weak, still trembling from the overwhelming sensation he just left you drowning in.

Matt just smirks.

His hands grip your legs, pushing them gently to the side as he stands up.

You blink up at him, still dazed, still trying to process everything, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you for stability.

Matt just crosses the room, his presence still dominating the space, even from a distance.

He settles onto the couch near your bookshelf, his legs spread wide, his arms draping over the back, his gaze never leaving yours.

You roll over onto your stomach, your breath still uneven, your lashes fluttering, your glasses slightly askew.

You sit up, still blinking, still confused, your expression soft, innocent, lost.

Matt sees it. He relishes it.

The way you look at him, unsure, desperate for direction, for permission, for more.

His lips curve into a slow, lazy smirk. He lifts two fingers, curling them toward himself in a silent command.

You slowly sit up, your body still weak, trembling, your breath uneven, your mind dazed from everything Matt just did to you.

Your wide eyes flicker to him, innocence and hesitation swirling in them as you push yourself to your feet, your knees still wobbly, shaky.

Matt sees it all.

The hesitation.

The way your fingers twitch at your sides.

The way your body reacts to him even now.

And he just smirks.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low, slow, lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

You take a small step forward, then another, walking toward him shyly, your fingers lightly brushing the hem of your camisole like you need something to ground you.

Matt watches you closely, his blue eyes filled with lust.

And then, when you’re almost there, when you’re standing just inches away, he chuckles under his breath.

“Don’t get shy on me now, angel,” he teases, his voice gravelly, thick with amusement.

His hands shift, gripping your thighs, thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against your bare skin.

“I can still taste you on my tongue.”

Your face burns instantly. A sharp, hot flush crawls up your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your breath catching so hard in your throat you think you might choke on it.

Matt just smirks wider, darker. He tilts his chin up slightly, his gaze dragging over you, slow and lazy, before he gestures with his chin.

“Take it off.”

Your fingers instinctively grip the hem of your camisole, suddenly hyper-aware of how thin, delicate, and barely-there it is.

Your lips part, but no words come out. The moment feels too intimate, too vulnerable, too raw.

Matt sees the way you freeze up, the way your breathing stutters, the way your fingers tighten around the fabric.

His hands slide slowly up your thighs, his touch warm, grounding, teasing, reassuring.

“C’mon, angel,” he murmurs, his voice soft, coaxing, slow. His thumbs press small, soothing circles into your skin, his breath steady, patient, waiting. “It’s me.”

Your stomach flips. Your heart pounds. And something in the way he says it- so certain, so steady, so familiar- makes your fingers loosen their grip on your shirt.

You take a slow, shaky breath and pull it over your head. The fabric slips from your fingers, pooling on the floor beside you.

Matt just stares.

His lips part slightly.

His light eyes drag over you, slow, deliberate, in absolute awe. His jaw tightens. His hands flex against your thighs, his breath coming in slow, controlled pulls.

His voice lowers into something reverent, something wrecked, something so raw it makes your stomach turn inside out. “Fucking hell.”

Matt’s fingers twitch at his sides before he lifts one hand, dragging his fingertips lightly over your peaked, sensitive nipples.

The touch is barely there, barely anything, but it sends a sharp jolt of heat through you, your breath catching, your back arching just slightly.

Matt watches you closely, his blue eyes dark, burning, filled with something unreadable.

He brings his hands down, pressing them to your shoulders, his touch firm but gentle, guiding.

He presses down.

And you sink to your knees in front of him.

Your eyes widen slightly, innocence flickering in your gaze, curiosity mixed with something deeper, something unspoken.

You look up at him, hands resting lightly on your thighs, your glasses slipping down your nose again, your lips parted slightly, waiting, trusting.

Matt throws his head back.

A low, ragged groan escapes his lips, his fingers twitching at his sides, his entire body reacting to the way you look at him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

You frown slightly, tilting your head, your brows furrowing as you lift a hand and place it gently on his thigh.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice soft, concerned, completely oblivious.

Matt’s breath shudders.

He drags his head back down, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling slowly.

“Yeah, angel,” he murmurs. “I’m okay.”

He grabs your wrist, gently but firmly, guiding your hand over him, pressing your palm against the thick, hard evidence of what you do to him.

Matt groans at the contact, his head tilting back slightly, his fingers tightening around your wrist.

Then, his voice drops into something slow, deliberate, patient, guiding.

“You know how I make you warm and needy, right?” he murmurs, his blue eyes locking onto yours, searching, waiting.

You nod slowly. His thumb strokes your wrist.

“How I build up that pressure for you,” he continues, his voice low, steady, coaxing.

Your thighs squeeze together instinctively. You nod again.

Matt smirks slightly, tilting his head, watching you absorb his words, letting you process.

“Would you want to try to do that to me?”

Your lips part slightly, your fingers twitching against his thigh.

Your cheeks heat up, something warm and unfamiliar curling low in your stomach.

“I-” You blink, wide-eyed, innocent. “I can?”

Matts fingers flex against your cheek, cupping your face, his thumb tracing the soft curve of your jaw.

“Of course you can, angel,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing, patient.

His eyes darken slightly, his thumb dragging along your cheekbone as he leans in just a little.

“Remember the video I sent you?” he asks, his voice low, thick, teasing.

Your face burns instantly. Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering, your lips pressing together as the memory crashes over you.

You nod slowly, your cheeks flushing deep red.

Matt smirks. His fingers tilt your chin up, his voice dipping lower, darker, heavier.

“You’ll be doing that,” he murmurs.

His lips graze just below your ear, teasing you, tempting you.

“But instead of my hands….”

He guides your hand over him again, pressing your palm firmly against him, letting you feel him throb beneath your touch.

“…it’ll be yours.”

Your cheeks burn, heat creeping up your neck and ears, your breath shaky, hands still resting on his thighs, fingers twitching slightly as your mind processes what he just said.

Your lips part, innocent curiosity mixing with something deeper, something warmer.

“Would that… would that make you feel good?” you whisper, blinking up at him.

Matt’s eyes darken, his pupils blown, heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling unevenly just from the sound of your voice, from the way you genuinely want to know.

You hesitate, then slowly- with so much hesitation it nearly kills him- you reach for him again, your fingers wrapping around him shyly.

A low, wrecked groan rumbles from his chest, his thighs tensing under your touch, his breath shuddering as his head tilts back slightly.

“Yes, angel,” he rasps, his jaw tight, strained, completely lost in the moment.

He lifts a hand, fingers brushing down your cheek, tracing the soft line of your jaw, before tilting your chin up.

“It would make me feel like I’m on fucking fire.”

Your stomach flips violently. You nod once, determined.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I want to do it.”

Matt’s breath catches. Then his lips curve into a slow, lazy smirk, but his eyes are completely serious.

“Okay, angel,” he murmurs. His thumb strokes your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours, guiding you through every second. “You need to take my pants off first.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and your fingers hesitate. Matt chuckles softly, tilting his head, watching you with pure amusement, pure desire.

“Do you know how to undo a man’s belt and jeans?”

You shake your head, your voice small. “I’ve… I’ve never done that before.”

Matt’s jaw tenses instantly. His breath shudders, his fingers flexing against your jaw, his entire body reacting to those words more than he thought possible.

His blue eyes darken, his voice raspy, rough, wrecked.

“Fuck.”

His fingers squeeze against your cheek, his lips parting slightly before he tilts your chin up higher, making sure you see the way he’s looking at you.

“I love that,” he breathes, his voice low, strained.

You swallow hard, your stomach twisting at the way he’s watching you, like you’re something he wants to devour, something he’s been waiting for.

Matt reaches down, undoing his belt slowly, before sliding it free.

He places it on the couch beside him, his smirk growing.

“We’ll use that another time.”

Your brows furrow, your lips parting in confusion. “Another time?” you ask, blinking up at him. “For what?”

Matt just chuckles darkly, tilting his head slightly, watching you with so much amusement and desire that it makes your thighs press together.

“Don’t worry about it, angel,” he murmurs “You’ll see.”

Your stomach flips, heat curling low, but you nod, trusting. He guides your hands to his jeans.

“Now,” he says, his voice low, patient, steady “I’ll show you how to take them off.”

Your fingers tremble slightly as you follow his movements, undoing the button, tugging at the zipper, watching as he lifts his hips slightly to help you slide them down.

Your breath hitches as the fabric drags down his thighs, your knuckles grazing over his boxers-

Over the thick, heated arousal straining beneath them. Matt groans lowly, his head tilting back, his jaw clenching, his fingers twitching where they rest on his thighs.

You freeze, your heart pounding, nervous, anxious, excited.

Matt just smirks, tilting his head down, watching you with so much heat, so much hunger it makes your stomach twist.

“That’s it, angel.”

Your hands shake slightly as you work the denim further down his legs, your fingers grazing the firm muscles of his thighs, dragging the fabric past his knees, until they’re completely off.

Matt sits back, his legs spread wide, leaving him in just his boxers.

Your eyes flicker down, your breath catching in your throat.

There’s a noticeable wet spot on the tip of his boxers, a darkened patch of fabric, revealing just how affected he is.

Matt sees exactly where you’re looking.

“See that?” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing.

You nod slowly, wide-eyed, your lips parting slightly.

“Yeah… what is that?”

Matt’s smirk deepens, pleased, amused, wrecked.

“It’s pre-cum, angel.”

Your brows furrow slightly, your head tilting, your innocence making his chest tighten with something primal.

“What’s that?” you whisper.

Matt groans, his hands flexing against his thighs, his jaw tightening, his self-control hanging by a thread.

“It’s what happens when a man is really, really turned on,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, thick, full of restraint.

Your cheeks flush deep red, heat rushing down your spine, pooling low in your stomach.

And then, without thinking, you blink up at him and whisper;

“Did… I do that?”

His eyes darken so much they look nearly black in the dim light of your room.

He reaches out, cupping your face in both hands, tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his.

“Yes, my love,” he murmurs, his voice low, reverent, wrecked. “You did that.”

A sharp, hot pulse of heat rushes through you, something about the way he says “my love” making your stomach flip, twist, tighten.

His lips twitch, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his breath heavier now, controlled but uneven.

“You’re gonna need to take it out to touch me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, patient, teasing.

Your hands twitch in your lap, your breath shaky.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” you whisper.

Matt lets out a low, warm chuckle, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Trust me,”

His fingers tilt your chin up higher, forcing you to hold his gaze, making sure you see the raw, burning desire in his eyes.

“You won’t.”

Your stomach flutters, your hands shaking slightly as you hesitantly reach for the waistband of his boxers-

Your fingers tremble as you slowly pull him out, your breath hitching, your eyes widening the second you see him- thick, long, heavy, flushed, and so much bigger than you expected.

Your small hands barely wrap around him, your fingers not even closing fully around his girth.

Matt groans sharply, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, his head tilting back slightly as he watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“God, yeah- ” he rasps, his voice rough, strained, wrecked.

His blue eyes darken, flickering down to where your delicate fingers and perfectly manicured nails are wrapped around him, barely able to hold him.

“Keep gripping it like that, angel.”

You squeeze at his words, instinctively following his instruction.

Matt’s breath shudders, a low, wrecked groan slipping past his lips, his thighs tensing beneath you.

“Theres my Good girl.”

A sharp heat floods through you at the praise, your stomach twisting, flipping, warming.

Your fingers tighten slightly, testing, uncertain, eager to do well.

“What do I do now?” you ask softly, your eyes wide and innocent.

Matt’s jaw tightens, his chest heaving, his body visibly straining to control himself.

“Okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice low, controlled, guiding. “Just… start going up and down.”

You nod quickly, determined, adjusting your grip, slowly dragging your hand down, then back up.

Matt’s head falls back slightly, his breath catching, his thighs flexing.

“Fuck…. Yeah that’s good sweetheart,”

Your movements are light and tentative and unsure, your fingers barely gripping him, barely stroking him properly.

Matt groans again, his hands twitching, his head tilting back further, his body tensing beneath your touch.

But it’s not enough.

He’s on edge, desperate, wrecked, but the way you’re touching him- soft, teasing, too light, too gentle- is driving him insane.

His hands fly to your wrists, gently guiding, his voice low, strained, desperate.

“You can go a little harder, love. Or a little faster.”

You flush, nodding, your hands tightening slightly, your movements picking up pace.

Matt groans deep, low, wrecked, his thighs flexing, his stomach tightening, his head falling back against the couch.

“Yeah…. there you go, angel.”

Your fingers tighten around him, your strokes growing steadier, following the quiet, strained groans that slip from Matt’s lips.

His thighs tense, his stomach tightens, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he watches you, his breathing wrecked, his jaw clenching.

“Just like that, angel,” he murmurs, his voice rough, low, guiding.

You watch him closely, absorbing every shift in his expressions, every flicker of pleasure in his face, every low, deep groan that rumbles from his chest.

It makes you curious.

Makes you want to see more.

You slowly lean forward.

Your gaze stays on his face, your body drawing closer, your breath ghosting over him as your lips part slightly.

Matt’s eyes flicker down sharply.

His breath hitches. Then his hand shoots out, gently gripping your wrist, stopping you.

“Whoa, sweetheart.”

His voice is low, strained, almost wrecked. Your eyes widen, confused. Matt swallows hard, his blue eyes dark, heavy-lidded.

“Are you trying to suck it?”

Your brows furrow slightly, your lips parting in innocent confusion. “Huh?”

Matt lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“You just got really close, angel.”

Your cheeks burn. Your fingers twitch slightly against him, and when you stroke him again, slow and curious, his head tilts back, a low, wrecked groan slipping from his lips.

“Fuck.”

You hesitate for a second, watching him, before tilting your head slightly.

“Do you want me to?”

Matt’s chest rises and falls unevenly, his grip tightening slightly, his jaw clenching so hard you can see the muscle tick.

He throws his head back again, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Shit.”

His hands flex at his sides, his thighs tense beneath you.

“Only if you want to, angel.”

You swallow, heat curling deep in your stomach at the way he looks wrecked, desperate, undone.

You blink up at him.

“Tell me what to do.”

Matt’s breath catches, his hands twitching at his sides as he watches you, his blue eyes dark, heavy, barely in control.

He swallows hard, his voice low, rough, guiding.

“Okay, angel,” he murmurs. “You’re gonna want to pucker your lips- yeah just like that… and start off by just kissing the tip.”

You nod, eager to please, leaning forward slowly, hesitantly, your breath ghosting over him.

You press a soft, shy kiss to his tip, looking up at him through your long lashes.

Matt’s entire body tenses. His hands grip the couch, his jaw clenching, his stomach tightening. A low, wrecked groan slips past his lips.

“Jesus Christ.”

You pause, waiting for direction, and he exhales slowly, shakily, gathering himself before tilting your chin slightly, guiding you.

“Good, angel,” he murmurs. “Now, hollow your cheeks- and go down a little more.”

You do as he says, taking him a little deeper, your tongue swirling experimentally.

Matt’s thighs flex, his hands gripping his knees as he lets out a low, sharp groan.

But then your teeth scrape lightly against him.

Matt’s hips jerk forward instinctively, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.

You gag softly, your throat constricting in surprise as you pull back slightly.

Matt’s hand shoots out, gently cupping your jaw and pulling you off him. His eyes flicker down, scanning your face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, cheeks burning, and try to go back down, eager to keep going.

But Matt stops you again, his grip gentle but firm, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek. “Just… be careful with your teeth, angel.”

You nod again, determined, and he lets out a low chuckle, his thumb tracing your lower lip before letting you continue.

This time, you take him deeper, your tongue swirling, your hands resting on his thighs for balance.

Matt groans, low and deep, his fingers flexing at his sides, trying not to touch your head or make you feel pressured. But god is it hard for him.

After a few more sharp breaths, soft moans, deep groans, his hand finds your cheek again, his thumb stroking softly, guiding.

“Okay, angel,” he murmurs. “Now use your hands and your mouth at the same time.”

You nod against him, following his lead, doing exactly what he asks as you wrap both your hands around the base and length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, pumping up and down as your mouth follows.

Matt groans louder, his head falling back, completely at your mercy.

His breath shudders, his hands clenching into fists against the couch, his thighs tensing beneath your touch as you follow his guidance.

Your movements grow bolder, your hands working in tandem with your mouth, following every small noise, every slight shift of his hips.

A deep groan slips from his lips, his head tilting back against the couch, his fingers twitching like he’s desperate to grab onto something, anything.

“Fuck, angel,” he mutters, his voice wrecked, strained, barely holding on.

The sound of his pleasure sends a rush of heat through you, sharp and overwhelming, pooling low in your stomach.

Without realizing it, your hips start to move, grinding softly, rocking against your own foot, searching for relief, for something to soothe the ache building inside you.

Matt notices.

A low, wrecked groan rumbles from his chest, his blue eyes flickering down, watching the way your body moves- needy, desperate, completely lost in the moment.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained and dripping with desire.

His hands finally move, sliding into your hair, his fingers tangling at the roots, not pulling or pushing, just holding, grounding himself in you.

However, his hips jerk forward instinctively, chasing the warmth of your mouth, and the way you whimper at his reaction makes his head fall back again, another low groan escaping his lips.

The sound sends another pulse of heat through you, making your thighs clench, your body aching for more.

You pull off slightly, just enough to lift your gaze, wide, innocent, trusting, offering him control.

Your hands slide from him, moving to his thighs instead, steadying yourself, showing him that he can take what he needs and use you how he pleases.

Matt’s breath stutters, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair, his jaw clenching as his darkened eyes meet yours.

“Fuckk, angel- ”

His lips part, his fingers stroking your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly, watching the way you wait for him, letting him have control.

A low, gravelly whisper, so full of possession and reverence it makes your stomach flip-

“You were made for me.”

His head tilts down, jaw dropping, his blue eyes burning into yours.

His fingers tighten in your hair, his breath ragged, uneven, his body completely wrecked as he starts to move.

Slow at first.

Testing.

Letting you adjust, guiding you.

But the moment you moan on him- a soft, broken sound that vibrates against him- he loses it.

His hips roll forward, his grip in your hair firm but gentle, keeping you right where he wants you.

A deep, strangled groan slips past his lips as he watches you, the way you take everything he gives you, the way you trust him, the way you look up at him with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, strained, on the edge.

His hands shake, his thighs tense, his stomach tightens.

His breath shudders, his jaw clenching.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart- take your mouth off me.”

But you don’t.

Instead you push your head down further as he fucks into you, taking more of him, your throat tightening around him as your small hands grip his thighs.

Matt curses under his breath, his head falling back against the couch, his entire body tightening.

“F-fuck, angel-”

His fingers flex in your hair, his voice breaking.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum… unless you wanna swallow, you gotta take your head off me.”

You don’t fully understand what he means. Not really. But you want to.

So instead of pulling away you push down even further against his rutting hips.

Matt’s entire body tenses, a deep, strangled moan ripping from his throat as his hips jerk forward uncontrollably.

Your throat tightens around him, a soft gag slipping past your lips, and that- that’s what finally ruins him.

Matt groans, deep and wrecked, his head tilting back, his grip tightening as his body shudders beneath you. You continue gagging uncontrollably against him as your nose hits his pelvis.

Matt’s chest rises and falls in uneven bursts, his jaw clenching so tightly it looks like he’s struggling to hold himself back. His thighs flex harder than ever, his hands tighten in your hair, and his head tilts back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat and jawline as a low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.

“Fuck-” he rasps, his voice thick, wrecked, completely undone.

His fingers twitch against your scalp, his entire body tensing, his stomach tightening, his breath coming in sharp, shuddering exhales.

You don’t pull away. You don’t stop.

You stay right there, letting him have control, letting him fall apart completely.

Matt moans, deep and broken, his grip tightening, his hips stuttering slightly, as if his body is fighting against the overwhelming sensation. Like he doesn’t want it to end.

His head snaps forward, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes locking onto yours, and the way you’re still looking up at him, still so willing, so trusting, so eager to please-

His breath hitches, his stomach tensing one last time, and then he lets out a low, ragged groan, his fingers flexing one last time before his entire body shudders beneath you and white hot spurts of cum pump down your throat.

You gag hard and pull off him, swallowing what you can while the rest dribbles down your mouth and chin.

You stay still, letting him ride it out, his voice strained, hoarse, his thighs trembling slightly from the intensity of it all.

And when he finally relaxes, his body slumping back into the couch, his breath still uneven, his fingers gently loosen in your hair.

His blue eyes flicker down, dark and hazy, taking in the sight of you, still kneeling, still looking up at him with that wide-eyed innocence that makes his stomach tighten and dick get hard all over again.

His thumb brushes against your cheek, his breathing still heavy, his gaze unreadable.

A slow, lazy smirk.

“You’ve earned it now for sure, sweetheart. You ready?”

PART 5 OUT NOW

MASTERLIST

a/n: only one more part after this…. who’s hype

for @mattsobvimyfav 💙

tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 @user1smvtysturniolo @briisturniolo @sturniololuvz @hesvoid34 @butterflytsblog @mommymomm @mattsbunnyxx @blushsturns @i8kth @annalisesturnioloxo @kenziesturniolo54 @ribread03 @sturnl0ve @grace-sturniolo12 @sophsturns @mattsturnfx @lilyloveschris @milo-the-dog @riggysworld @scrumptiouskoalabasement @tenaciousearthquakeperson @sturnlovematt22 @seros-girl @sofsturnz689 @sturniololuvz @eeyoresturnz

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sixtharrow · 2 months ago

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It’s weird. Way back in the day (like, pre-Voltron Legendary Defender era) the relationship between two unrelated fictional guys being considered “brotherly” would have been quite validating to us slash shippers. It’s like, oh wow, they’re that close, huh. They already consider themselves each other’s family. They’d die for each other. We’d have thought a romantic relationship stemming from that was perfectly logical!

And it’s not like the ship would ever be canon, so having that sort of deep bond was the next best thing. The fanworks would just have to take it from there.

But it’s so different these days. A character says “you’re like a brother to me” and now shipping two unrelated fictional guys is literally incest? Even though this has been a trope in straight romances for forever? Wow, the view has really shifted! Of course, shippers back in the day were much looser regarding canon roles, ages, power dynamics, or hell, even whether or not two characters existed in the same universe in the first place! But this is one argument I’ve just never been a fan of. Like, I used to say my first gf was my sister all the damn time because I didn’t know how else to interpret my feeings for her early on. And the fact that this seems to disproportionately affect m/m ships and f/f ships is telling, too. Also, people’s views of each other can...change? Sure, maybe Character A once saw Character B as his brother, but something is different now, and so he has to go and navigate those feelings. I mean the whole point of fanworks is exploration. For the characters as well as the writer. And just like back in the day, the ships are rarely canonized, which means something is always being changed or expanded. We just didn't have killjoys in our ears telling us we couldn’t ship two unrelated fictional guys because one of them once referred to the other as a brother or whatever. Well, we did, cause homophobes exist, we just didn’t usually hear it from fellow shippers.

#jayvik #shuggy #sheith #shipping #bromance #antis #discourse #don’t mind me just being an old person rambling about the good old days #arospeaks

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xveenusx · 2 years ago

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You

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.

Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.

Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!

_______________

Angry.

That’s how I felt.

At myself. At my dad. At John B.

When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.

Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.

Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.

It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.

Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.

Until, I didn’t.

It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.

My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.

Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.

JJ.

“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.

I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.

Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.

My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.

_________

I hated this sign.

My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.

It served as another reminder that my brother left me.

I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.

Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.

And then, there was JJ.

JJ was special.

He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.

In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.

I blew out a breath.

Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.

When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.

But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.

What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.

The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.

“You ready?”

Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.

If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.

“I go where you go.”

JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.

“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.

In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.

Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”

My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.

I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.

“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”

“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.

Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.

I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.

You matter.

But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?

Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.

There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.

I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.

He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.

The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.

JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.

A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.

“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.

I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.

He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.

My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.

His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.

“Do you believe me now?”

JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”

A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”

“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”

My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.

He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.

So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.

JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.

Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.

Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.

Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.

A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.

"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.

A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.

The effect he had on my body left me stunned.

My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.

His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.

His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.

The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.

JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.

He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.

I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.

JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.

He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.

“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”

Stacey Williams had this thing about her.

What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.

That fact alone made me nervous.

Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.

Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.

People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.

“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”

She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.

“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”

My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.

“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”

I winced. That’s all I was to him?

I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”

I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”

Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”

Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.

“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”

The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.

I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.

I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.

But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.

Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.

Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.

Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.

I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.

My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.

Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.

“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.

Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.

JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.

“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said-“

“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”

I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.

“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.

“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”

It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.

My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.

JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.

Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“

“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”

“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”

“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.

A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.

My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.

Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.

When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.

His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.

I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.

“Listen-“

“No thanks.”

“If you would just-“

“Go away.”

“Can you please stop acting-“

“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.

“I dont want to talk to Sta-“

“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“

“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.

My mouth opened and closed in shock.

“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

“Because it’s you.”

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“

“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.

My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.

“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”

I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”

I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.

JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”

“Then leave-“

“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”

My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.

“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”

His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.

“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”

My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.

“But you said-“

“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.

In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.

At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.

Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.

Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.

Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”

Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”

His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”

Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.

“You said I was just some girl.”

JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.

“Good thing I have a truck.”

“But she-“

He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.

“You’re the only one I want.”

JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.

My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.

JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”

The words never crossed my lips.

He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.

His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”

Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.

JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.

My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.

Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.

A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.

White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.

JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.

He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”

______________

I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)

Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe

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dream-with-a-fever · 3 months ago

Text

the people who claim ginny’s “personality” came out of nowhere never fail to amaze me with their inability to actually comprehend the text

it’s literally shown in PS (fleetingly) on the train platform and talked about as early as CoS that ginny weasley is a certified YAPPER. she’s a talkative, opinionated gal. ron points out that her quiet / shy behaviour is very unusual for her, so if one does have basic comprehension skills, it is pretty clear that the ginny we see in the earlier books (which are from harry’s pov) is not who she really is. ginny says as much herself in HBP, “i never used to be able to talk in front of you remember? hermione thought you’d take more notice if i was a bit more… myself”? like are we comprehending this? it’s not rocket science…

as the books go on, her confidence around harry grows the more she detaches herself from the idea of harry that she grew up with, and the actual harry. this journey is slightly impeded by the fact that harry saves ginny’s life in CoS, which she feels a significant amount of guilt and embarrassment over (which harry himself picks up on this in PoA), not to mention she’s still processing the trauma that accompanied that experience (as seen in the way she reacts to the dementors — she is the only one who has a strong reaction to them, like harry). in the years following, we find out in CC (whether you take that to be canon or not), ginny explains she was very lonely during and after the diary debacle, as she felt very isolated from everyone else. this would also cause her self-confidence to take a severe battering, therefore her true personality is not able to shine, especially not in front of harry potter aka her crush aka the boy who saved her life and almost died doing it.

in GoF, harry (and in turn us, as the readers) start to see glimpses of her playful personality - she’s close with fred and george, she calls her brothers out when they’re being unkind, she goes to the yule ball with neville (turning down the opportunity to go with harry, because she doesn’t want to go back on her word), she gives ron’s owl a silly name and she starts to let go of her childhood crush, and takes a chance on another boy who’s actually shown interest in her.

by the time we see her again in OotP, OF COURSE she has undergone some serious character development. she has a boyfriend now! she has a group of friends now! she’s able to be herself around harry! she has a better support system now, her self confidence has returned, and with it, her sense of self worth. she calls harry out on his shit when he needs it, she also comforts him and gives him the space to share his worries without judgement or admonition, she stands up for what’s right, she kicks ass at quidditch (which she’s been wanting to do for the past four years bc she has been practising since she was six years old!), she joins the fight at the DoM, risking her life and dumps her boyfriend for being a sore loser! because she deserves better than that!

the ginny we see in HBP has gone through So Much. but she has only continued to grow as a character - with so much heart, wit and spunk. of course, harry is paying attention now and of COURSE he’s a flustered mess trying not to fall for his bestfriend’s sister for nearly 800 pages but he can’t help it!!!

a lot of ginny’s development happens behind the scenes, in quiet ways, but if you actually pay attention, it’s very obvious who she truly is. the reader slowly becomes more fascinated by this girl as more and more of her story unravels — as does harry. and that’s the beauty of it.

#ginny weasley #my rambles #harry potter #harry x ginny #hinny #hp #book ginny #ginevra molly weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #ginny weasley rambles #hp meta

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 months ago

Note

Hii not sure if your requests are open or not- so ignore this if they’re closed! <3

Can I request some Obey Me! Headcanons?

So reader is the 8th sister of the brothers. So she’s the youngest.

Just some general headcanons of her relationships w the brothers

( And some of the side characters if it’s not too much trouble :>)

Thanks <33

I've already done something like that but I love the concept so I'm just going to build that 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Youngest Sibling Reader Headcannons | Yandere Obey Me

Lucifer

Before I said he was the worst one and I mean it

He’s an amalgamation of someone who understands you but undermines you at every moment

Because he understands, he does listen

He just doesn’t hold your opinions on the same level as his own

But worse

Of course his brother’s constant chatter about aimless things isn’t on his level

But every now and then he’ll enjoy hanging out with them

But not you

Never you

“Ah so you do pay attention to the political atmosphere. Good job.”

“I don’t expect you to know but I’ll tell you anyways.”

It’s degrading

It’s disrespectful

And he does not care

You can cry and yell all you like

it’ll just sound like a tantrum to him

So he’ll treat like one

“If you can’t behave, I’ll have to send you to the attic.”

Leviathan

As previously stated is apart of the group that just misinterprets everything you say

It’s hard to say if it’s delusion or denial

Because sometimes he’ll slip up

You’ll catch him crying or a single mumble in his late night rambles

“Aw my baby is so grown up…I just can’t believe it anymore.”

If you try to address it he’ll pat your head and ruffle your hair (if you have any)

Before telling you it’s nothing for the baby to worry about anyway

It’s incredibly annoying

When he writes off your achievements in gaming as button mashing

Or saying your just a genius so you’d get on his level eventually

Any protests or ‘grown-up’ conversations are often just outright ignore

Now doing things outside of the ‘baby’ image he has of you mostly has him ignoring that too

Unless you come back hurt or specifically crying for his help

He will actually start flooding places and going into an absolute rampage

He won’t listen to you about calming down

Its going to take all the brothers to de-aggro their brother to save everyone from drowning

“Sorry guys I just want to make sure our baby sib is doing okay!”

Asmodeus

Also a part of that ‘doesn’t listen to you’ crew

Accept while he might actually here you his brain literally just never let’s him hear your real voice

“Can you please stop trying to rearrange my closet?! It’s weird to find you digging through my stuff–”

“Okay okay no need to cry what’s the problem baby sib? C’mon you can use your words! Tell big bro Asmo what’s the matter?”

It’s almost a concern when he does it in front of your other brothers

Especially the ones you can hold an actual conversation

“Hey (Y/n) can you pass the salt and the salad.”

“Sure, man.”

“Hey Hey! Why are you bothering (Y/n), they’re trying to focus on eating? Not to mention your being such a meanie, trying to make them reach with their tiny arms!”

“(Y/n) is sitting closer to me than you…”

“So? How do you expect them to know good manners if you don’t show them! Here I’ll show you how! Watch me baby (Y/n)!”

He honestly doesn’t compute when you’re getting older

He’ll celebrate birthdays, milestones, awards

But he doesn’t believe you are growing and can’t see it either

Reprimanding you when you went out with your own car

“I’m all for playing with your toys, but you have to have a chaperone. Okay?”

That being said any advances from others are met with extreme animosity

“Not my little (Y/n)! Try that with someone else’s little baby!”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yanderes #yandere #yandere obey me #yandere platonic #yandere platonic obey me x reader #yandere platonic obey me lucifer #yandere platonic obey me asmodeus #yandere platonic obey me leviathan #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me asmodeus

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callsign-rogueone · 9 months ago

Text

deja vu - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗 words: 2.9k 🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.

“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”

“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing.

“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”

His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.

You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs.

“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying.

“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”

Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.

“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”

You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.

“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.

Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.

You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.

You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.

“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.

You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.

He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.

You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.

Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.

You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream.

What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room?

You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.

“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me see.”

You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.

What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it?

You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.

You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?

“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”

Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.

You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping.

There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.

He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”

“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.”

You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together. “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”

You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second.

You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them.

Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?

“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”

You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.

The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”

You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.

“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”

You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks.

He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Good.”

You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.

Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.

Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.

He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”

He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.

Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?

As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.

Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room.

He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”

He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.

“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”

He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”

“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.

Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.

“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.

You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.

But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history.

Interesting.

You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.

She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.

You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements.

You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.

Very interesting.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.

“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”

The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.

She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.

Silence. Absolute dead silence.

You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”

#bodhi and darling #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #fourth wing fanfic

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morgana-larkin · 19 days ago

Note

Regina x reader where when Tinkerbell told Regina her true love was a man with a lion tattoo she actually had it wrong and it was actually a woman with a lion tattoo was was the barkeep at the tavern robin was drinking in

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for sending me my first Regina request! I haven’t written for Regina before but I love her character and think Lana Parrilla played her so well! And I actually had the pleasure of meeting her back in September and she’s such an amazing person! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

The Girl With The Lion Tattoo

Warnings: None

Words: 4.8k

“There, the man with the lion tattoo.” Tinkerbell tells Regina. “He’s your true love.” She adds.

Regina tries to gather the courage to enter, she swings the door open but she suddenly stops. In front of the man with the lion tattoo was a beautiful woman, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Regina gets scared, closes the door and runs away.

*Many years later*

Tinkerbell walks up to Regina and sees Robin’s tattoo and it’s the exact one from years ago.

“It’s the man with the lion tattoo.” She says to Regina.

“I know, I saw it yesterday.” Regina says. Before Tinkerbell can say anything, you walk in and go right up to Robin Hood.

“Hey.” He says to you and smile at him.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late.” You tell him.

“Who’s this?” Regina asks Robin.

“This is my sister Y/n.” He tells her and you smile at her.

“Hi.” You tell her and hold out a hand to shake. She shakes your hand and then something catches her attention.

“You have the same lion tattoo as him?” She asks and you nod.

“We got them together, did it as a brother and sister thing.” You tell her.

“You look familiar.” She tells you.

“I get that a lot. Back in the enchanted forest I was a barkeep. If you went to the bar then I might have served you.” You tell her.

“I used to go there a lot to spend time with my little sister.” Robin adds and you nod.

Regina gets very nervous and excuses herself before walking out.

“What’s the problem? Why not go and get to know him more?” Tinkerbell says as she goes after Regina.

“Are you sure it was him?” Regina asks and Tinkerbell nods.

“The fairy dust led us to him, remember?”

“I know, it’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Tinkerbell asks.

“I think I’m more attracted to his sister.” She admits and Tinkerbell looks taken back.

“Well maybe it’s just nerves but try and get to know both of them more. Maybe you think you’re more attracted to Y/n because you’re nervous. But Robin is your true love.” She says with a smile.

“Ok.” Regina says and goes back inside. “So Y/n, can I get you anything?” She asks you as she sits beside you.

“You’re nice.” You tell her. “I wouldn’t mind a burger and fries actually.” You tell her with a smile and she orders it. “You’re the evil queen right?” You suddenly ask her and she looks at you.

“I was, I’m not anymore.” She tells you sternly.

“What changed?” You ask her.

“No need to get into something so personal so soon.” Robin intercepts.

“No it’s ok.” Regina tells him. “I had Henry, my son.” She says and you nod.

“What’s it like? Having a child?” You ask her and she thinks about it.

“Well it’s tiring and you constantly want to quit. But you don’t because they’re worth it.” She tells you. “You don’t have a child?”

“No, I didn’t get lucky like my brother did. But I do love my nephew.” You tell her. “Although even if I did find love in the enchanted forest, then I still wouldn’t have a child, as I’m attracted to women.” You add on and Regina’s eyes widen slightly.

“Well we’re not in the enchanted forest now, so if you want a child then you can.” She tells you.

“True, but it’s not something that’s on my mind.”

“Here you go, burger and fries.” Granny tells you and you smile at her.

“Thank you.” You tell Granny and she nods before serving other people. “Want some fries?” You ask Regina and she shakes her head.

“No, I need to head out.” She tells you and you nod.

“Well it was great meeting you, Regina.” You tell her.

“You too, bye.” She says and then leaves.

“You’re smitten by her.” Robin tells you and you look at him.

“I barely know her, besides, she’s the evil queen.”

“She’s not anymore, she’s actually a nice and funny person.” Robin tells you.

“Well it doesn’t matter because I’ll probably never see her again.” You say and eat a couple of fries.

A couple days later you’re walking out of granny’s with Roland and you bump into Regina.

“Oh Regina, I’m so sorry.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“It’s alright, accidents happen.” She says and you let out a breath. “Did you think I was going to do something to you?” She asks and you freeze.

“I’m-I’m not sure.” You say and she tilts her head at you. “I met you when you were the evil queen but I actually have never met you after the curse so I don’t know for sure if you’d do anything.” You ramble out and she nods.

“I understand, but maybe if we did something together and got to know me then you can get to know me as Regina instead of the evil queen.” She suggests and you nod.

“You want to do something together?” You ask her and she nods.

“Of course.” She tells you and you think about it.

“Ok, sure.” You tell her and she gets her phone out.

“Here, put your number in and we can plan something.” She tells you and you add your number in her phone. She then calls the number and your phone starts ringing and then she hangs up. “Just checking.” She says and then goes into Granny’s.

You walk Roland into the forest where Robin is and drop him off.

“You’ll never guess what happened when I walked out of Granny’s.” You tell him and he looks at you. “I ran into Regina, like physically ran into her and she offered to do something together so I can get to know her as Regina.” You tell him.

“That’s good, you can get to know the real her.” He tells you.

“You act like you’ve known her for a while but you spent what? An afternoon together?” You tell him.

“That’s how long it took me to know that she’s a good person.” He says to you and you sigh. Then you see Rumble walking over and Robin grabs his crossbow and goes over to him. You grab your sword and prepare for a possible fight. “Stop right there.” He tells him and Rumble turns around to face him. “You know this arrow never misses its mark.” He says.

“If I could stand down I would.” Rumble says. “Heed me, give me the heart.” He adds.

“No.” Robin simply says. And then Roland is walking back from collecting firewood.

“And who is this?” Rumble asks and Roland drops all his firewood. Both you and Robin get scared by that and you take a step closer to Rumble.

“Roland, go back!” Robin shouts to him.

“Come here little boy.” Rumble commands.

“Don’t.” Robin says sternly. “Please.” He adds and rumble looks between you and Robin.

“I don’t want to.” Rumble says. “I really don’t. Come closer little boy.” Rumble says again and uses his power to force Roland to take a few steps against his will.

“Daddy!” Roland says, voice laced with fear.

“Stop.” Rumble says and Roland stops and then sinks into the ground.

“Daddy help!” Roland pleads.

“I didn’t want to do this either but…” Robin says and then shoots an arrow. Rumble stops the arrow in the air.

“It never misses its target.” Rumble says and then the arrow moves and points it to Roland. “And I just changed the target.” He adds and Robin looks at him with fear. “If I drop my finger…”

“No!” Robin shouts and you take a couple steps closer but then Rumble freezes all of you except for Robin.

“I don’t want to.” Rumble says. “But I will.”

“Daddy!” Roland cries out again.

“Wait.” Robin says suddenly and Rumble looks at him. Robin puts down his crossbow and then gets the heart out. He shows the heart to him and then gives it to him.

“Thank you, and I am sorry, truly.” Rumble says and then sends the arrow to Roland but stops it right at his face. Then the arrow drops and Rumble disappears.

You get unfrozen and then you and Robin run to Roland. Robin hugs Roland and then you see Regina come into view.

“Robin.” You say and then nod your head towards Regina. He gives you Roland and then you walk him towards the fire and help calm him down. You see Regina and Robin chatting and then you tell one of the men to watch Roland and you walk over.

“It doesn’t matter, cause I’m going to stop her.” You hear Regina say and then Robin nods and hears you coming. “How is he?” Regina asks you.

“Shaking but calming down.” You tell her and she nods.

“That’s good.” She says.

“He was asking for you Robin.” You tell him and Robin nods and goes to see his son. “I’m surprised you’re not punishing us for not keeping our promise.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Nothing is worth the life of a child.” She tells you. “I would give up anything to protect Henry as well.” She adds.

“You’re not what I expected.” You say and she walks a couple steps closer to you.

“And what did you expect? Ripping hearts out because they gave up mine?” She asks and you chuckle.

“Something like that.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well sorry to disappoint.” She jokes and you smile.

“It’s not disappointing. Robin says you’ve changed, that you’re nice and funny, I hope that’s true.”

“Well maybe I can change your view on me after we spend more time together. Preferably after I get my heart back.” She says with a smile.

“What’s it like? To not have a heart.”

“Well I can still feel, but not as much as I would if it was in my chest.” She explains. “I would love to chat more but I have a bitch to stop.” She tells you and you nod.

“Of course, good luck with your bitch hunt.” You joke and she smiles before leaving in a cloud of purple smoke.

Two days later you get a text and Regina is inviting you to Granny’s for lunch in an hour. You text her back saying you accept and then you continue collecting the firewood with Roland. You go back after a few minutes and then tell Robin that you’re meeting Regina at Granny’s and then you leave.

You arrive at Granny’s 40 minutes later and you see Regina sitting in a booth. You walk over and sit opposite of her.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come or not.” She tells you. “I’m glad you came.”

“I don’t break promises, my brother taught me that.” You tell her and then a waitress comes and you give her your order.

“Lunch is on me so if you want to order something else then you can.” She tells you and you nod.

“Thank you.” You tell her and she nods. “You know you give me sugar mommy vibes.” You randomly say and then mentally facepalm. “Sorry, that was weird and really random, I don’t know why I said that.” You tell her and then she starts laughing.

“Please continue. Why do I give those vibes?” She asks and you look at her and see she’s genuinely curious.

“Well, um, this is the second time you’ve offered to pay for me and you have a lot of money.” You explain.

“I do yes, I guess one of the upsides of doing the curse.” She tells you and you look down when she mentions the curse. “I hope you didn’t have a bad life during the curse.” She tells you and you look up at her.

“It was alright, I was more alone than anything.” You explain.

“I’m sorry, for everything. For everything I did in the enchanted forest and for the curse. But I’m trying really hard to change and be a better person.” She says and you can tell she’s being genuine.

“What are you doing that’s different to try and be a better person?” You ask her.

“Well instead of plotting to kill Snow White everyday, I help her and her family to fight villains that’s threatening the lives of everyone here.” She says and you hum.

“So you don’t think about killing Snow White anymore?”

“Not anymore, we’re tolerating each other now. Plus they allow me to see my son.”

“Why don’t you have your son?”

“Emma is his birth mother and Henry chose to stay with them instead of me.”

“But you raised him.”

“I did, but I made a few mistakes in how I raised him that resulted in him choosing Emma and her family.” She explains to you.

“Did you end up getting your heart back?”

“No, my sister still has it.” She tells you.

“Your sister stole your heart?” You ask and she nods. “Wow, that’s a ruthless family you have.” You tell her and she laughs.

“My sister blames me for how her life turned out so she wants to change that.” She explains to you. “But I think that’s enough about my sister for now, tell me, how was your childhood?”

“It was good, I spent a lot of time with my brother, most of what I know I learned from him instead of our parents.” You tell her and she nods. You look at her and see she’s actually paying attention and interested in you. “Can I ask you something?” You ask her and she nods. “You wanting to spend time with me, is it really to see you differently so that I can accept you and my brother together?”

“What?”

“Robin told me that you kissed him last night.” You tell her.

“Oh, that.” She says.

“So does that mean you like him?”

“I don’t know yet.” She says honestly.

“Well I don’t know many people who will kiss someone they’re not interested in.” You tell her.

“Can I tell you something that you can’t tell Robin? At least until I tell him.”

“Sure, I’ve kept a lot of secrets from him before.”

“I don’t doubt that. The thing is back in the enchanted forest, before I was the evil queen, I came across tinkerbell.” She starts saying.

“The fairy?” You ask and she nods.

“She offered to help me find my true love and it led me to this bar, and to this man with the lion tattoo.” She tells you.

“My brother?” You ask and she nods. “Well if he’s supposed to be the one you love, then why aren’t you attracted to him?” You ask her and she sighs.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I’m actually still scared to open myself out to love again but I found the courage to kiss him, but I… I didn’t feel anything.” She admits to you. “And I don’t know why, since he’s supposed to be the one I love.” She adds and the looks down and sees your identical lion tattoo. Her eyes widen slightly and she scrambles to grab her purse and jacket. “I just remembered that I have to go, but here’s enough to cover the bill and something extra if you want.” She says as she hands you a $50 bill.

“But we just started to get to know each other.” You tell her.

“I know, I’m sorry. I remembered that I have to help Emma and her family try to stop my sister. But maybe another time.” She says and then runs out. The waitress then comes with your order and you thank her. You lean back in the booth and sigh.

“So how was it?” Robin asks as soon as you return. “Is she still the evil queen?”

“I don’t know, she had to go before we started to really get to know each other.” You tell him. “But she doesn’t seem evil anymore, if anything she seems guarded.” You say to him.

“She does, but I probably would be as well if you’re trying to change your life around.” He tells you and you nod.

A few hours later Robin comes back while you’re teaching Roland how to make a fire.

“Here.” He says and gives you a takeout bag from Granny’s.

“What’s this?” You ask him and look in the bag and see your favourite from Granny’s.

“A gift from Regina, she ordered for us and gave me the money before she had to go.” He tells you and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Must be getting close if she’s ordering for the family.” You tell him. “Tell her I say thank you.” You add and he nods before giving some food to Roland. “How does she know my favourite?” You suddenly ask.

“I told her.” He tells you. “By the way she wanted to apologise for running off on you earlier.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like she owes me anything.” You tell him and he sighs.

“You're like her in some ways you know, you’re just as guarded as she is.” He tells you and you look at him. “Why haven’t you opened yourself up to love again? I understand that girl hurt you but that was in the enchanted forest, we’re not there anymore, and it’s been a few years.” He asks and you sigh.

“I just don’t need that heartbreak, I have you and Roland, I have a family and I’m ok with that.” You tell him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you but a girl was asking about you when I was at Granny’s. She asked if you were single and I told her yes.” He says and you look at him. “And gave me this to give to you.” He adds and hands you a note. You take it from him and open it up, on the note was her name and number.

“I’m not interested on going on a date with this Cait girl.” You tell him and you go to throw the paper in the fire but he stops you.

“At least give her a try, just one date.” He tells you and you sigh.

“Fine, one date, but after that you don’t ask me to do it again. Deal?” You offer and he nods.

“Deal.” He promises.

The next day you arrange with Cait to meet at Granny’s for dinner. You walk in at 5:30 and see her sitting in a booth. She made sure to send a picture of herself so you’d recognise her.

“Hi.” You tell her and take a seat and she looks at you with a smile.

“Hi, I’m glad my note got to you and that you took a chance to see me.” She tells you and you nod. The waitress comes and you both give your order to her and then walks away.

You and Cait fall into conversation and then your food arrives 10 minutes later. You both start eating and talking and then Regina walks in.

She sees you talking with a girl and she can’t help but feel disappointed. She goes to Granny and orders her food and then looks at you and that girl again.

“Hey Granny, who’s that girl that Y/n is talking to?” She asks.

“Her name is Cait, they’re on a date from what I’ve gathered.” Granny tells her and Regina’s voice hitches slightly.

“Oh.” She says and looks down. A few minutes later Granny gives the takeout bag to Regina and Regina looks at you again. She decides to take a chance and walk up to you. “Hey Y/n.” She says and both you and Cait look up at her.

“Regina, hi.” You tell her. “What are you doing here?”

“Got some takeout for me and my friends and I saw you here.” She explains and you nod.

“This is Cait, we’re on a date.” You tell her and she nods.

“Oh, well I’ll let you get back to that, I just wanted to apologise for having to run out on you yesterday.”

“My brother already told me you said that.” You tell her and she smiles.

“I was hoping maybe a rain check tomorrow.” She says and you nod.

“Sure, you have my number.” You tell her and she says goodbye before leaving.

You and Cait go back to your date and you go back to the forest a couple hours later.

“How was the date?” Robin asks you.

“Felt no connection to her.” You tell him and he sighs.

“Well that happens, but I’m glad you tried.” He tells you and you nod.

“Regina came into the restaurant though, she wanted to get together with me tomorrow.” You tell him.

“That’s good, yesterday she seemed conflicted when you were brought up into the conversation.” He says to you and you look at him.

The next day you meet Regina at her house, you knock on the door and she opens it a few seconds later.

“Hey Y/n, thanks for coming over.” She tells you and you nod.

“Didn’t really have much else to do, plus you’re with my brother, only right that I get to know you.” You tell her and she sighs and nods. You both go sit on her couch with a bottle of wine and fall into conversation.

“So how was your date with that girl yesterday?” She asks and you shrug.

“There won’t be another. I only went on it because my brother wants me to put myself back out there again.” You tell her.

“Again?”

“Ya, I got hurt by a girl back in the enchanted forest. Her and I were in love but her parents thought she shouldn’t love a girl, especially one that lives in the forest with her brother who’s a thief.” You tell her.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” She says and you nod.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, back before I became the evil queen, I had a boyfriend that I wanted to marry.” She says and you look at her.

“What happened?”

“My mother ripped his heart out and crushed it in front of me.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“So your sister is trying to kill you and your mother murdered your boyfriend? That’s one messed up family.” You say and she chuckles.

“One way to put it.”

“My brother seems taken by you.” You tell her and she looks at you. “Are you the same way?”

“I think I’m getting there. I think a lot of fear is just stopping me from feeling completely, as well as my heart not being with me.” She says and you nod. You two chat about your lives to each other for an hour until Emma and Hook barge into the house.

“Regina!” Emma yells and Regina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at them. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you had company.

“This is Y/n, Robin’s younger sister.” She explains to Emma.

“You’re the saviour.” You tell Emma and she nods.

“Ya, that’s me.”

Regina looks at your reaction to seeing Emma and then she looks down.

“Emma is the one that broke the curse with true love’s kiss.” Regina explains to you.

“Your curse.” You say and she nods.

“Regina, we need to go.” Hook tells her.

“Can’t it wait?” She asks and they shake their heads.

“Henry is being threatened.” Emma says and that gets Regina’s attention.

“Sorry Y/n, I have to go.” She tells you and you nod.

“Seems to be a running theme with you.” You tell her and she sighs.

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“It’s ok, I understand.”

“I can send you back to the forest so you don’t have to walk back.” She offers and you nod. She waves her hands and you’re immediately transported back to the forest.

A week later is when you see Regina again. You, Robin and his merry men are the first line of defence against Zelena.

“So Zelena, Regina’s sister is green and she’s after Snow White’s baby?” You ask Robin and he nods. “Ok, cool.” You say and get your sword out.

You all end up getting put to sleep right away and you awake to Regina waking you up.

“Y/n!” She yells and shakes you. You groan out and then move your head. “Y/n wake up.” She says and you open your eyes.

“Regina?” You ask and she smiles and nods. “What happened?”

“Nothing good, Zelena made it past all the defences and got the baby.” She tells you and then helps you up.

“You ok sis?” Robin asks you and you nod.

“I think I hit my head though.” You tell him and Regina waves her hand over your head and the pain is gone.

“There, all healed.” She says with a smile.

“Thank you.” You tell her and then you give her a hug.

“Regina, we have to go.” Emma says and she pulls back and nods at Emma.

“Wanna come?” She asks you. “We’re going to stop Zelena once and for all, Robin is also coming.”

“Sure.” You tell her and then follow everyone to where Zelena is.

You end up grabbing her heart before Regina defeats Zelena using good magic. You put her heart in a little bag and carry it with you.

You give Regina her heart and she puts it back into her and she takes a deep breath before looking at you and she smiles.

“How do you feel?” You ask her.

“Much better.” She says and Robin goes up to her and gives her a hug and a kiss. You walk away while they kiss and catch up with Emma.

“So why couldn’t you defeat Zelena?” You ask her. “Aren’t you the saviour?”

“She bestest me and took my magic before I could defeat her. Luckily Regina was able to.” She tells you and you don’t notice Regina looking at you while you talk to Emma.

A couple days later you walk to Granny’s with Robin, Roland and Regina. You walk in and grab a seat at a table while Regina gets pulled into a conversation. You look over to see who’s she talking to and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You nudge Robin and he looks at you.

“Robin look, it’s Marian.” You tell him and he looks in disbelief.

“Marian?” He asks as he gets up.

“Robin?”

“Marian!” He says and goes to hug her.

You look to see a family reunite and then you see Regina look at Emma and she says a few things before leaving. You go and follow her out.

“Regina?” You call out to her and she turns around to face you. “Are you ok?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“No, I’m not.”

“The whole Marian being back is probably not the happiest scenario for you.” You tell her.

“That’s the thing though. Seeing you on a date with another girl upset me more than Robin’s dead girlfriend come back.” She admits and you look at her.

“What?”

“Y/n, I’ve been trying to figure this thing out with Robin and it isn’t working. When Tinkerbell brought me to that bar to find my true love, she said it was the man with the lion tattoo. But I think she got it wrong, I think it was the woman in front of him with the exact same lion tattoo.” She tells you as she holds your wrist out to show your tattoo. “When I got my heart back and I was able to feel everything again, I kissed Robin and there was no spark there. I finally figured it out, it’s been you the entire time. I have feelings for you but haven’t been able to admit it until now.” She admits and you look at her in disbelief.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask her and she nods.

“I know you don’t have feelings for me but I just wanted you to know it…”

“Regina, I do have feelings for you. I felt something since I first met you but I’ve been really guarded and still saw you as evil. I don’t see you that way anymore, I think you’re an amazing and good person.” You tell her and she smiles at you. You then lean in and kiss her. She immediately kisses you back and you feel electricity flow through you.

“Regina, I’m-” You both hear and Regina pulls back with an annoyed groan.

“Not now, Swan.” She says and then pulls you back in and continues kissing you. She pulls back after when air is needed and looks at you with a smile. “There’s that feeling I was missing with Robin.” She says softly and you smile at her.

“I feel it too.” You say and lean your forehead against hers.

“Robin can have Marian back, I want you.” She says and then kisses you again.

#regina mills x reader #regina mills #x reader #fanfic #once upon a time #lana parrilla

56 notes · View notes

komoboko · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞; 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

A small event following the discovery of a contagious blood demon art that changes somebody’s age and it’s infected all the pillars turning them back into children... and now these children look up to you and the kamaboko squad for guidance ー heavily inspired by @ghostbite0 pintsized pillars au please please please check out their art i beg

prologue entry 1: character introductions and general hcs

starring: the kamaboko squad, the pillars + aoi kanzaki, senjuro rengoku, reader?? Idk they don’t rlly do much tbh..

The chance of blood demon art being contagious is unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe after this you’ll realize that if something isn’t impossible, always be cautious because it is. News spreads like wildfire around the corps about a new blood demon art, figured out to be contagious. The effects having something to do with age, making people become much younger than they currently are now. Worse of all the prime suspect of who brought it back is one of the pillars themselves. Everybody is ushered and reccommended to stay inside for now, until they figure out what’s going on. People can only point fingers at who they believe it is, but it doesn’t very long for them to find out.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA or now known as “virus spreader” is the first person to suffer from the effects of the blood demon art, and the one who brought it back. He denies it of course but there isn’t much hiding left he can do. Once he’s dismissed from the hashira meeting he goes to train to blow off steam like usual, it’s only then where he feels dizzy as his eyes begins to close. It’s then when the blood demon art sets in place turning the stubborn wind hashira back into a 7 year old boy. To add more onto this disaster, the first person to find him in this state is his younger brother, GENYA SHINZUGAWA Who only saw him when passing the training grounds. Screaming seeing a very young child hold a nichin blade that was much too sharp to be safe, and that this ‘child’ just happened to be his older brother.

It takes awhile for Genya to make it back to master Ubuyashiki to show him what happened to his younger brother. Having to endure chasing him around and him trying to pull out his hair while carrying him back. It was far too late to want him, as now both OBANAI IGURO and GIYU TOMIOKA have both fallen for the infection at the exact same time. Genya only freezes unsure of what to do seeing two 7 year old boys either sleeping or laying soundly in the middle of the courtyard. Especially since once is coiled up between kaburamaru who is not a fan of people most of the time. Thankfully, Genya doesn’t have to deal with three miniature pillars alone as TANJIRO KAMADO seem to come catch up with him after hearing his distress. As he picks up obanai while giyu lingers around his leg. Tanjiro realizes they won’t have much time left until there’s more children hanging around the corps with access to many weapons they do not need their hands on.

The other hashira seem to last longer when it came to the blood demon art effects, or it only lingered on them later on compared to the first three. They’re able to make it to the butterfly mansion in time where KANAO KOCHO who was waiting for them is able to bring them over to her older sister. SHINOBU KOCHO who was already busy inside was aware of this infection before the other three were, as when they find her they see her with a much smaller TENGEN UZUI who has already turned into a 10 year old boy. The insect pillar seeing the other three small children coming into her room is surprised at how fast this infection is taking place tries to quickly think of something to slow it down. Right when they believed they had something kochi is no longer seen, Genya nearly had to bend down to see shinobu has turned back into a 5 year old little girl. Well the butterfly mansion won’t be any help for answers anymore.

Both Genya, Kanao, and Tanjiro are thankful that the sound hashira has turned to an age where he can actually corporate. He’s able to hold onto shinobu while the three young slayers have to take account on who has turned, how their like, and who they need to find next.

UZUI, the oldest so far knows atleast how to take care of responsibilities, but is not a good influence to anyone at all. Always using the “cool kid” excuse to convince somebody to join him ind ping something they definitely shouldn’t be doing. Sanemi falls for it as they already caught him standing in top of a desk to try and jump off and onto Genya’s hair. Uzui says it wasn’t him but you can’t say you believe him when both giyu and shinobu point towards him when you ask.

SANEMI is a wild kid sometimes, he’s still got alot of that aggressive energy from his actual self that has transferred into his much smaller self. Other times he unusually touchy, especially for him. He’ll drag somebody over unusually obanai, sometimes even giyu to just play games with him. Sometimes he likes to bother people in the occasion but it’s normally a phase. Though he is still scared oof Genya in some way, if he’s doing something he isn’t suppose to do and Genya yells at him he’ll stop immediately. He’d never admit this though, ever.

GIYU is very very calm. He doesn’t change much compared to him when he’s older. He’s just more open to hang around the others as he doesn’t mind playing any games. He prefers to stay with somebody, he doesn’t mind being by somebody like shinobu and just staying around her or he’s around tanjiro. He likes to sleep with a lot. Speaking of sleep Giyu is always doesn’t mind taking a nap, he prefers it actually. He just likes to lay down and take a break sometimes. If he is ever being held there’s a good chance he’ll just fall asleep right then and there.

OBANAI is very much a touch starved child. He enjoys being hugged or held by some of the pillars or the ‘older’ kids. He’s very quiet most of the time he’ll talk on the occasion with the kids but is usually quiet most of the time. Obanai is also another sleepy kid, jusf like giyu they both like to sleep. Sometimes they nap together if they feel like it. Kaburamaru still tries to follow him, sometimes you see him just trailing around obanai if he sees him. He did try to coil around obanai like he usually does but if did not work right at all.

SHINOBU is a very good kid, she normally just like staying around in the butterfly mansion. Other times she just enjoys falling Kanao around when she’s doing anything. Even as a small child she still likes preforming her “doctor” role even if she can’t actually preform it. AOI lets her mess around and give her fake doctor check up with some of the real equipment she has around. Though she can only do it in certain rooms with atleast two people inside, one time aoi wasn’t looking and shinobu somehow found a syringe. She nearly got poked in the arm by it if she didn’t look back up.

While the three teenagers try to figure out what to do with their pillar problem, it seems like they have to add another one of the crew. Instead of searching for KYOJURO RENGOKU rengoku comes to them instead, tanjiro if the first to turn around when hearing the pitter patter of footsteps and the loud sniffling coming from around the corner. To his surprise SENJURO RENGOKU is the cause of the noise, holding a much smaller rengoku is his arms. He shuffles over to where tanjiro, Kanao, and Genya are rambling on and telling them how he turned around and ‘poof’ rengoku turned small. Tanjiro sighs knowing they have another kid they found, or what Genya refers to as “waist height army.” Tanjiro takes the five year old boy who has just as much energy and happiness as Rengoku had just before.

Tanjiro was conflicted to say the least. Dealing with hashira was already enough, but dealing with them as kids is whole new territory. Before he can think of something to do the loud yelling echoing in the distance catches his attention. He hopes Genya, kanao, and senjuro can handle the kids while he checks it out. As he sneaks around the corner he can he was shocked but wasn’t all that surprised. INOSUKE HASHIBARA sitting across the table from MITSURI KANROJI who has also become a 5 year old girl. The both preparing to have an intense arm wrestling match. Sitting on inosuke side was ZENITSU AGATSUMA and on mitsuri side was READER AND NEZUKO KAMADO. Zenitsu only cheers on an overconfident inosuke who puts his arm in the table. He bluffs for a moment until he feels his arm snack down against the table once again, loosing in an instant. Mitusri laughs while reader and nezuko cheer her on. Inosuke stares jaw dropped underneath the mask while zenitsu is shocked and trying not to laugh himself.

A sigh of relief escapes tanjiro lips as he turns to kanao with a much smaller giyu by her side. Things were fine, things would be fine if they had some time to breath and figure things out. Tanjiro takes a breath, until he hears somebody crying. At first he thinks it’s one of the hashira who has turned into a child, only for the sound to be coming from the stone pillar himself. GYOMEI HIMEJIMA with MUICHIRO TOKITO by his side. He weeps as he holds a very small shinobu and kyojuro in his arms while senjuro tries to pay his back to calm him down. While Tanjiro has trust in the stone hashira strength and abilities, he doesn’t know how old he will turn and how strong he’s going to be. Tanjiro simply walks over, making up an excuse to try to take Rengoku and Shinobu out of Gyomei arms. He’s able to grab Kyojuro out of his arms, but the moment he turns he hears muichiro shriek and that’s already enough to tell him what was going on.

Poor poor muichiro who had zoned out while hanging around Gyomei, only to turn and look eye to eye with him. It was not a subtle adjustment he could get used to. Gyomei tries to call him down sensing panic from the boy, who was already confused enough seeing his comrades being shrunken down and running around. Unfortunately, Gyomei aid was not helpful in coming the most pillar down who only stared at him and shinobu who was asleep in his arms. Both Tanjiro, Senjuro and Rengoku were caught off guard by the change to, but mostly by muichiro uncharacteristic screech. Muichiro tried to think of something to say, to do in the moment. Before he’s able to do anything the blood demon art unfortunately catches back up with, Tanjiro watches as Muichiro nearly disappears out of thin air. He has to turn around to see Rengoku picking up a small 1 year old muichiro who looks mildly upset in his arms.

RENGOKU is such a hyperactive child. He’s always happy and always tries to make all the others happy when he can. Even for being so young, he is still somewhat trustworthy and can deal with some of the kids like shinobu, and obanai if needed. Even as a child, Rengoku voice still has volume to it. He can be louder than Gyomei if he gets really excited. He also likes to eat with mitsuri often giving her food if he has any. Giyu sometimes lingers around him if he’s not with Sanemi or Obanai.

MITSURI is such a sweetheart, always happy and always ready to play around. She’s not to troubling to deal with like some of the others, her only issue is she still has the same appetite as she does when she is an adult. So somebody always makes sure to stock up on extra food at all times. Along with this she isn’t even aware of her own strength either, as we seen with her beating Inosuke. He always comes to get a rematch even if he’ll still loose. Obanai tends to linger around her as well.

GYOMEI is the most helpful out of all the hashira and the most attentive out of them. Being the closest to his actual age, and to the rest of the “older” kids age he actually helps out alot. He’s always the one granted supervision if Tanjiro or any of the others are busy because they know they can trust Gyomei. He does take this role very seriously for some reason, he’s put Sanemi and Uzui into a makeshift timeout before because they were trying to do something much to dangerous again.

MUICHIRO is just baby. Not much he can do but sometimes they think he’s the most aware of the situation he’s in. He always has a bored look on his face or an annoyed look if somebody has ticked him off. He’s always very picky about who can hold him. He likes being around Gyomei, Obanai and Rengoku for example but others he might show more signs of boredom. One time Sanemi got to pick him up, he made fun of him a little and Muichiro tried to bite his finger off.

Tanjiro has to call everybody who’s unaffected together. Now having found and seen all the effects have landed on every single hashira they can now make a plan. They’ve found everybody they needed to but they just have to figure out. How are they going to take care of them?

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screamintoad · 4 months ago

Text

Cherrycard kid-Jane Trappola

“Man, what an honor! My dads told me all about Night Raven College but actually being here…why it’s incredible!”

SHES HOLDING A BROOM

Voice claim: Jinx-Arcane

Character info

Jane is a spunky girl with a fiery spirit. She tries to be humble but because of her magical prowess she can sometimes be cocky and people will take it the wrong way. They decided that those people just aren’t worth dealing with and sticks close to her tight knit group of friends. At lunch she usually sits with her grandpa and eats with him and they use that time to catch up. She takes pride in being in Heartslabyul.

She grew up in the Queendom of Roses as almost next door neighbors to the Spade family. Whenever there was a vacation break that her family could take they would either go to the Shaftlands to visit the Howl’s, Schoenheit’s, and Felmier’s or to Briar Valley to visit the Zigvolt’s, Vanrouge’s, or even the royal family. “It pays off making connections in school.” Is what her papa always tells her. Constantly learning things from new places gained her a lot of experience and knowledge that she likes putting to use. She’s definitely a mini Ace and some people would comment on it with pity to Rory but, he always snapped back at them about how he wouldn’t want her to feel like she has to hide herself in any capacity.

Fun facts: Chronically single. Nonbinary and goes by they/she! Rory taught them how to play guitar. In middle school she found a puppy in an alleyway on her way home, their family still has her and she was named Calliope. Ace taught her tons of card games and tricks. She has a bad habit of relying on her magic too much, even using it for normal daily tasks. Really protective over Alice due to her sister’s quieter demeanor. Her love for the macabre and goth has deterred some people away but if given the chance, they could talk about her likes, dislikes, hobbies, etc. for hours.

Basic info

Age: 16

Height: 160cm, 5’2 (out of platforms)

B-day: August 28th (Virgo)

Dominant hand: Right

Family: Rory and Ace Trappola (Papa and Dad), Alice (younger sister), Divus Crewel (adopted grandpa)

Nickname: Starling and Firecracker (by family)

1st year

Class A

Club: Board game club

Best subject: Alchemy

Hobbies: Exploring campus, playing with her dog at home, and playing guitar

Pet peeve: People who judge before getting to know someone

Favorite food: strawberry pastries

Least favorite food: Broccoli.

Talent: Honing her magic to manipulate it in intricate ways

Character dynamics

Alice Trappola: Her baby sister! Well not really a baby anymore but that 5 year age gap makes a difference. When Jane visits home she is always close to Alice and when she first left for NRC she made the younger girl promise to take care of Calliope.

Alaric Vanrouge: One part of a trio. He’s definitely more soft spoken than her but they can both talk about their favorite things for ages. She sneaks out of NRC to visit him at RSA sometimes.

Fleur Vanrouge: Older sister figure. Since Jane is an only child she thrives when hanging out with Fleur. They would take walks around the Vanrouge property and sometimes Blanche would let Jane help out at the bakery. Girl talks go hard between Jane, Fleur, and Luna.

Luna Howl: Her, Alaric, and Jane are a trio that are menaces. Well two menaces and an Alaric. They’re all partners in crime much to their parents chagrin. These two spent hours running around the Howl family property and they continue to spend hours running around NRC.

Joey Howl: Older brother figure. He’s the one who would tell the trio to not get too dirty or get into too much mischief. Jane took full advantage when she realized that him and Fleur liked each other and would help Luna try to set them up. Whenever Jane got into trouble at her old school she would call him before her parents to get some older brother advice before parent advice.

Angel Spade: Neighbor and childhood friend part 1. Ginger cat and black cat dynamic. Jane is certainly the loud to his quiet. They still look out for each other though and bond over various video games.

Diana Spade: Neighbor and childhood friend part 2. They’re also roommates at their dorm! They’re pretty different but growing up as neighbors with their dads working together made em figure out how to get along. Every weekend they’ll have movie nights.

Lana Bucchi: New friend! Lana made a loud introduction and ever since, they’ve been quite the friends. They have the good? Bad? Habit of matching each other’s energy. Which is sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Mika Bucchi: Alaric’s roommate that she met on accident. They haven’t interacted much but she’s heard a lot about him from Alaric. She can tell he’s really nice and she gets along with his sister.

Mallory Draconia: Menaces in crime. Think of Malleus and Rory’s friendship but the complete opposite. They’re the gremlin duo that need separated, if one is in trouble, the other is also in trouble with them. Except Mallory will talk them out of trouble. 50/50 chance it works.

Marven Leech: These two absolutely need separated. They roughhouse all the time and the twins make it almost a challenge to see who can throw Jane farther. She absolutely loves it though and loves having them as found brothers. When they told their dads about them they both turned as pale as ghosts.

Evelio Leech: He’s as bad as his brother. But they have calm moments where they talk about their interests and what’s going on with their schoolwork.

Alora Leech: Again, need separated sometimes. These two are peas in a pod, they share so many common interests and hobbies. On top of being in the same club. They’ll pass around scary stories like candy.

HOWL KIDS BELONG TO @blood-red-bumblebee SPADE’S BELONG TO @skibidibabygirl BUCCHI’S BELONG TO @twtysevapr LEECH’S BELONG TO @angelwishess AND MALLORY BELONGS TO @moonyasnow TELL ME IF I GOT ANY INFO WRONG OR YOU WANT SOMETHING CHANGED OR ADDED

and extra tags: @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @theolivetree123 @4necdote @midnightmah07

@justm3di0cr3 @beneathsakurashade @bunniehunn

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #cherry sprout #twst oc art #jane trappola #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst fankids #fankids

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intimidating-fettuccine · 4 months ago

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Aaaa! You are like my favorite creepypasta blog! I love all the stuff you do so much! Would you be willing to go like a bit more into lyra and Toby's relationship or something like that? I find them super interesting, If you've already done that and I forgot sorry!

Hellloooo I’m glad you like my stuff so much! ^^ I’m gonna provide a link if you click right here to my Toby character analysis, which is where I went into his background and in that is the basis of his relationship with Lyra, but I don’t mind giving you some rambles about them as well :)

So as I say in the character analysis, in my canon Toby and Lyra both suffered incredibly at the hands of their father’s abuse. As Toby can’t feel pain, their father often used Lyra and abused her in front of him as it affected Toby the most. When not being abused, Toby and Lyra were always huddled up together in each other’s arms, and despite being the one physically harmed the most, Lyra was always comforting Toby, reassuring him that she was okay, and that he didn’t need to be so worried about her.

Lyra couldn’t stand the sight of Toby always being so distressed as a result of the abuse, and she always tried her best to cheer him up and make him feel better. Toby to this day still remembers the stories that Lyra would tell him to distract him, and he often repeats them to himself in his mind as a way to calm down and distract himself from anything bothering him.

I’ve always had this headcanon in the back of my mind that Lyra had a bracelet that she would wear all the time. After her and their father’s death, when Toby was packing up to run away one of the things he took with him was that bracelet. He’s worn it every day since, except when he’s on missions or training as he doesn’t want it to get damaged, and it’s his most prized possession.

I think he really got his affectionate nature from Lyra. As I said before they were often holding each other when their dad wasn’t around, and I think she would hold his hand a lot to remind him that she was there with him, and their mom would do the same, the three of them always in contact in some way as it was the only comfort they could provide each other when living through hell together. As Toby no longer has his sister to fill that void anymore, he gets pretty clingy with the people he’s close to in the mansion, since he still desperately wants all of that affection and they’re the only ones that can provide it to him. If he has a partner, that’s why he’s always clinging to you and wanting as much affection as he can gather from his s/o. If he doesn’t, like I said, he tries to get it from the creeps, and I think he most often clings to Slender/Tim/Brian/Jane/BEN. It’s not uncommon for him to be wandering around holding hands with one of them or clinging to them in a hug.

Toby also tells stories about Lyra a lot, sometimes the same ones over and over again, because he doesn’t want to forget anything about her. I think his mom also tells him stories a lot about Lyra, things he wouldn’t remember or know because he was her younger brother, and it always brings him joy. If he’s dating you, he especially likes to tell you stories about her, and he always says that he thinks Lyra would have loved you, which usually makes both of you cry together. If you ever ask him to talk about Lyra though, it makes him so incredibly excited.

I hope this quenches your Toby and Lyra lore thirst for the day because this went on way longer than I meant it to, but if you ever have specific questions always feel free to assskkkk

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #slender mansion mayhem #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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(For the Crewel event)

If you could trust any of your students to watch over your dogs for at least a day, who would you pick?

It was hard to narrow it down to one student, so I provided a couple! If you’re wondering why some characters don’t appear, assume Crewel sniffed out a significant flaw (Floyd’s flippancy, Riddle’s rage and inflexibility, Ortho’s laser, Lilia’s cooking, etc.).

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“You’ve pose a difficult question,” Crewel groaned, running a hand through his monochromatic hair. “Given the choice, I wouldn’t entrust my dear pets to pups who have yet to earn their spots, but since you’ve put me in this situation… I would first put my Science Club mentees on the list of contenders.”

“Because you’ve watched over them and they’ve proven to you that they’re responsible?” you asked.

“Hah! If you wish to phrase it like that, then be my guest,” Crewel said with a dry scoff. “Clover is experienced in looking after others while Hunt is familiar with animals. They both have their own desirable characteristics.”

His pointer collided with an open palm in a harsh snap. You instinctively winced at the sound.

“Clover and Hunt work with me quite closely. They know better than anyone what is prepared for them, should there be a single hair on my dogs’ heads harmed: a brutal scolding! … Though perhaps it is unfair of me to look to the extracurricular I advise for these personal matters.

“For those outside of Science Club… Howl, Viper, and Schoenheit. There are other students who appear respectable or have experience with animal care. However, I fear there may be ulterior motives on their part.”

Images of NRC’s local money grubbers and brown nosers flashed in your mind. Wriggling tentacles, a smile concealing sharp and gnashing teeth, the sweep of a hyena’s tail.

“Yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about,” you said with a nervous laugh. “But hey, tell me more about why you picked Jack, Jamil, and Vil-senpai?”

“To begin with, they are all diligent, mature, and disciplined for their age. Each has their own unique strength as well.

“I’ve heard that Howl is the eldest sibling of his family. He takes his younger brother and sister out for physical activities. That would translate well into play and exercise sessions with my own dogs.

“Viper is a skilled chef. I can count on him to prepare delicious and nutritious meals. He also keeps a close eye out for his dorm leader and is health. I would appreciate that same level of vigilance for my pets.

"Finally, there is Schoenheit. He shares many of the same aesthetic sensibilities as I. I'm certain that he will have no issues with tending to grooming. Shampooing, rinsing, drying, clipping, styling, the works. Not only that, but I have confidence that Schoenheit can curb even the most unruly of mutts.”

“My pets are well-trained but feisty. Should they sense any inadequacy, they will cause trouble in an act of rebellion. I will not have to worry about that with Schoenheit. He commands attention and respect, like yours truly.”

You teetered on your tiptoes, then rocked back on the balls of your feet. “And hypothetically speaking, would you trust me with watching your dogs?”

“Is that what your question was leading up to? This?”

“Yup, pretty much. Sooo, what’s your verdict, sensei?”

Crewel scrutinized you with steely grey eyes. “Hmm, there’s potential—but you still have a long ways to go. See if you can get that Grim under control and then get back to me. That pup still owes yesterday’s homework!”

“You want me to nab him and make him turn in an overdue assignment?” you groaned. “Seems like that’s all I’ve been doing this year.”

“Then you’d best be prepared to do plenty more of it. Consider it training for the day when you may very well be asked to take on far greater responsibilities!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Divus Crewel #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #It’s Raining Crows and Dogs #Jamil Viper #Jack Howl #Vil Schoenheit

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goomyloid · 8 months ago

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PLEASE explain your thoughts on kriselle in full detail

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS 100% UNPROMPTED ASK! I SHALL EXPLAIN

i hate toby fox. why did he do this to us. he really put it better than anyone else. not really romantic not really platonic but…. something else… some secret more sinister more heartfelt more absurd third thing

i wonder at what point should i clarify that i dont even really seek out kriselle in a romantic context… DONT GET ME WRONG i have zero issues with the ship whatsoever and all of the krisellers out there are living their best (most painful) lives and i SEE THE APPEAL. BUT when i rotate them in my brain i dont need them to kiss or anything like that i just need them to sit down and sadly hold hands and stay like that forever and ever. in case you couldnt gauge that from my art so far

tldr i dont think i ship them in the traditional sense at least …. the things that i usually fixate on for any romantic ship are not there with these two. there are no romantic feelings there In my mind. and all at the same time i start screaming and throwing up and killing myself (all positive) whenever i see them even in the same image together. hngh

ive tried explaining this to people before and they usually suggest something along the lines of a QPR and even that doesnt feel right to me. truly the best way i can put it is… that red string of fate man… which i almost hesitate on saying too because i dont actually know if noelle is Quite an important enough character to the story to warrant a connection like that. WHICH IS A CRAZY THING TO SAY. I KNOW. DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING ME WRONG i think dess and her connections to gaster and her usage as a stepping stone into the weird route are all VERY important… but in my brain its just not kris/knight/asriel/every other mysterious main focus of the story Important. i didnt mean to get into deltarune theorizing here i hope nobody’s blood is boiling rn

so yeah in the end. toby fox once again put it best. they are friends, but they are also something else.

back to the actual pairing though… sometimes i think im going overboard and overestimating how close kris and noelle were as children because noelle will go and say things like “i wonder if we were ever really friends at all.” which is kind of a fair statement considering the circumstances. sure they played together and all and tagged along with their siblings to do stuff together but when dess went missing… it all kind of stopped. kris is just a kid, they dont know what to do or even how to process it, much like noelle. asriel is probably dealing with his own feelings, he just lost his friend and likely old enough to understand the weight of what happened. while noelle and kris cant say much to each other at all.

im always back and forth on speaking headcanons for kris but the one that i always seem to come back to is selective mutism… to me kris had a lot of trouble communicating well as a child and could only grow comfortable around certain people, asriel and noelle being clear examples because they’re both so patient with them. maybe because of this noelle felt like they could understand each other without really needing words, and just physical interaction was enough to achieve some form of closeness… or maybe that was all just on her end, she thinks when kris goes to play the piano. but if that’s the case, why does it feel like a concert just for her…?

jesus dont even get me start on them as teenagers either. noelle has lost her sister, and now kris has lost their brother… but not in the same way. they look at each other and wonder if they’re the same now. or, maybe thats too cruel. maybe its not the same thing at all. asriel’s coming back soon, after all. it will all be over soon, kris won’t have to feel this way for much longer, right? so then, why does kris look so miserable, sitting in the corner over there? all noelle feels like she can do is sit next to them quietly. to be there, and to somehow, vaguely, messily help each other. the misfit kids that dont really know how to talk to each other and yet understand each other regardless

thats why the dark world feels like such a dream to her. these crazy city lights, fantastical creatures, susie’s there, and she actually might have the means to defend herself and stand her ground, whether it be verbally or… otherwise

and most of all, much like with kris offering an adventurous haven to susie in ch1, the same is extended to noelle. by kris’s side, no less. it feels like theyre doing things together again, and its fun, and nostalgic… she wants to bring dess. and i think its okay to assume kris wants to bring asriel, too. recreating the make-believe world they lost so long ago… is it really possible?

no… how can it really be possible, when this isnt kris? something is wrong. its almost perfect, except kris… it’s them, but it’s not. she sees their face, their expressions, their laughs, their worries. and yet the voice that comes from them… isnt them. and it scares her! even if nothing particularly bad happened as a result. and if something bad DID happen, well…

she just wants what they had before back. is it really so impossible? can they reconcile after all these years? does kris want to? is kris capable of doing so? maybe they just need to hug again. will it feel like a real hug? the person she thought she understood is acting in ways she doesnt understand. they’re telling her to do weird things. they cycle through actions as if they just want to know what happens. and they cant even play piano anymore.

#mailbox #im gonna kill myself #kriselle #long post

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nowimyurdaisy · 2 years ago

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can you write smth for verstappen!reader and charles leclerc? and max tries to break them apart and they break up bc of him and then they’re both miserable and then max sees how happy they are together and lets them get back together? smth like that tysm 😭💕

OMG I LUV THIS SO MUCH

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: sorry this took so long 😭 hope y'all enjoy!

masterlist

-✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

It wasn't a secret around the Ferrari paddock that you were dating Charles Leclerc, but it also wasn't a secret that you are the Max Verstappen's sister. Not that your brother was very aware of your dating life. *cough* that your boyfriend is Charles *cough* He would flip if he knew.

Oh and he did flip, when he found out.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" max yelled, stomping towards you and Charles who had bolted apart when they heard max.

You looked around nervously not making eye contact, "nothing" you said.

"nothing?!" Max arched an eyebrow. He looks at your boyfriend giving him the death glare. You look at Charles pleading him to not say anything.

Max wins, "I'm sorry" Charles says.

You don't make eye contact, but pull Charles close to you, "Max. I'd like you to meet my boyfriend" you turn to max and smile. Charles chuckles nervously.

"boyfriend?!" You nod at his words. "Y/n you're dating my rival?!"

"yep" you smile, then turn and say "sorry brother but we gotta go" and with that you and Charles walk away.

This night was not going how it was planned, you planned for a night out with your boyfriend because you hadn't been spending as much time together recently, well ever since max found out. You weren't sure if the reason he was distancing himself was because he was A) afraid of max, B) Max had given him some sort of talk (or yell), C) he was really busy, or D) he just didn't want to hang out.

You were really hoping it wasn't the last option. So now here you were sitting across from Charles at a restaurant of his choosing. Sitting in this stupid dress, getting into a stupid argument over the silliest thing, that turned into an argument about max's reaction to your relationship. And Max taking his feelings out on the track.

The yelling turned heads at the restaurant. Eventually the two of you made your way out of the restaurant, you were sure if the two of you were a cartoon characters smoke would be coming out of your ears.

The night ended so ugly. "I HATE YOU. I. HATE. YOU." you yelled at Charles. "I never, ever want to see you again!"

Charles' features softened almost, the realization of what was happening hitting him, "FINE!" He yelled angrily back, "I hope you have a terrible life y/n"

With that you slammed the door in his face. As soon as it shut, you slid down the door sobs erupting from you.

It had been a couple weeks since you had seen Charles. You really didn't want to go to the race and face the chance of seeing Charles, but Max really wanted you there. So begrudgingly you agreed to go.

You showed up to the race wearing all black and sunglasses. The moment you stepped into the Red Bull paddock and Christian tried to greet you, you gave a bland "Hello" and sat down at one of the chairs and watched everyone work. Everyone got the message that you clearly didn't want to be there and were only there for their star racer, your brother.

It was a good race, Max won, again. Of course you were happy for him but you weren't really in the mood to celebrate. However you joined max and the rest of the grid at a club to celebrate. You couldn't help but wonder if Charles would be there. Probably not because he had a shit race not even finished, getting a DNF. You didn't want to feel bad for him, bit a small pang of guilt coursed through you thinking you may have been the cause of his DNF.

You were leaning against the bar, a stiff drink in your hand. When you felt someones eyes on you, a very familiar pair of eyes, you turned in around, your eyes meeting his. He looked away quickly. He looked almost sad.

Max had turned around just in time to catch this interaction. The realization finally hits him of how happy the two of you were together, and that he might actually be the cause of your misery. Suddenly feeling guilty for being happy when the two broke up. Now realizing what he must do.

He knew he had to get the two of you back together. Now he just had to come up with a plan. It was the most cliched plan ever trapping them in a room together to force them to talk it out. He told Carlos his plan, Carlos thought it was brilliant, since he could see the pain in his teammate's eyes ever since the two of you broke up. Carlos tested the group chat saying to meet at max's room to have a guys night. Then, Max texted you telling you to meet him in his room before dinner.

When you got to his room Max claimed he had a call he had to take and stepped outside for a bit, you didn't miss the note sitting on the table but before you could investigate someone knocked, you assumed it was max who accidentaly closed his door on his way out. When you opened it you where met with the face of the last man you wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" you asked almost slamming the door in his face.

"I'm here to hang with the guys, why are you here?" he retorted. "he said he had something important to say" Then you saw your brother come out of nowhere push the two of you inside and lock the door, you finally realized that the lock was on the outside of the door.

"That little shit"you mumbled under your breath.

"What?" Charles asked, "what is happening?" CHarles asked looking around the room frantically finally his eyes settled on the paper in your hand.

"My idiot brother set this up" you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"What does the letter say?"

Dear Y/N and Charles,

I am so sorry that I screwed this up for you two.

Now get your heads out of your asses and fucking MAKE UP!

The two of you are clearly fucking MISERABLE without the other.

Your favorite person,

Max

"That little shit" you repeated again much louder this time.

"Is- is it true?" Charles finally asked. You tilted your head as if to question. "Did I really hurt you that much?"

You just nodded slowly, "are- are you hurt too Charles? Or did I imagine the pain in your eyes in the club?" Slowly but surely the two of you were inching closer to each other.

"I've really missed you y/n/n" Charles spoke softly, he reached for your hand but pulled back afraid of your possible reaction.

"I miss you too" you replied grabbing his hand, entwining your fingers. "I can't believe I let my brother of all people get in between us" you let out a light chuckle.

"Can we just forget these past weeks never happened?" Charles asked so politely.

You smiled, looking him in the eyes, "Alright ask me"

"Ask you what?" He asked.

"You know what" you replied.

Charles rolled his eyes, "y/n y/l/n will you make me the happiest man and be my girlfriend?"

"Yes you idiot of course, I love you" you pulled Charles into you, your lips meeting his.

"I missed you so fucking much" Charles mumbled pulling away.

"And?" you replied littering kisses all over his face.

"And I love you so much" he laughed, pulling you back in for another deep kiss.

"Please never leave me again" you whispered.

"Never."

As you leaned in for another kiss you could hear your brother and a couple other friends on the other side of the door peering in through the window shouting yes and high-fiving.

You and Charles laughed foreheads touching.

-✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

taglist

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x verstappen!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x fem!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x sister!reader #charles leclerc x y/n #formula one

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sincerelyhecate · 1 month ago

Text

you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze

Title: you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze (final chapter)

Pairing: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson

Length: 7.9k words

You can also read this on AO3.

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘

Six years later.

On a lovely Saturday morning, in the kitchen of Jason and Percy’s home, it isn’t strange for one to hear the screams of Piper McLean echoing throughout the cosy ambience of the place. Today the sound is shrill and delighted, whistle-like before devolving into banshee cackles, to the absolute indifference of everyone else in the vicinity. In her precarious clutch is a rumpled copy of the Daily Prophet hanging on for dear life, papers on the verge of falling apart from the way it’s shaken this way and that. Poring over the morning news next to her hysterical girlfriend (or rather, trying to), Annabeth makes a face, disturbed by the headline emblazoned on the front page.

Jason, who’s preoccupied with wardrobe preparations for the International Quidditch Gala this evening, which is to be hosted in London this year, cannot be bothered to investigate his best friend’s cause of hysteria. Piper hops on a mission to rupture her close friends’ eardrums at least three times a day, most of the time because of things as small as losing a game of Exploding Snaps, so the effort would’ve been for naught. You can even say it’s a regular phenomenon in his life. Non-indicative of anything in need of serious attention.

On the other hand, he’s dealing with a slightly bigger problem: everything for the gala should’ve been in order before noon, which is only thirty minutes away. His Percy, who is sweet and charming and would probably kill another man for him, has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate whenever he gets ready (“Can’t we snog for just another five minutes, babe? Please?”); another regular phenomenon in this household. And tardiness is simply out of the question today, when both of them will be the highlights of the event tonight.

Thalia, nursing a cup of tea for her hangover, walks around the kitchen island toward the girls to take a curious look. Jason jerks in surprise, barely managing to catch the bundle of robes falling out of his hold, when she all but shrieks, “JASON, WHAT HAS THAT TWAT DONE TO YOU?!”

Uh, oh.

When he gathers enough courage to glance her way, his sister has collapsed on a nearby chair. Her sharp face paints a perfect mixture of devastation and rage.

“My sweet, innocent baby brother!” she wails to the ceiling, like there’s an unknowable power above that could answer her woes. Her fingers clutch tufts of her black hair in anguish, like he’s about to be boiled inside a bubbling cauldron right before her eyes. “Debauched and corrupted by that filthy, foul beast!”

There’s an internal defensive system in Jason that’s set up for Percy, activating automatically whenever the man is spoken ill of. It doesn’t care for the offending person, whether they’re family, friend or foe.

“Excuse me?” he thus demands, incredulous by his sister’s exaggerated lament. “That’s my fiancé you’re talking about. What’s even going on?”

“He’s what’s going on!” Thalia yells back, but it’s too late. Her words might as well be the passing wind by then. For Jason, a helpless romantic by default, has already found himself scatterbrained by the word he just uttered.

Fiancé.

Isn’t it so telling of his character that, even in the face of Thalia Grace’s unbridled rage, his heart still embarrassingly flips at the word for the nth time? It’s mad. It's invigorating at the same time. Every time he says it, it’s as if the word has been just newly minted into his vocabulary. Like the idea of it is just dawning on him for the very first time.

And really, can anyone blame his tongue when it tastes honeyed mead every time?

His trembling heart, when the man he’s engaged to is the one and only Percy Jackson?

The giddiness overwhelming his chest, when he’s due being wedded to the love of his life one day, the owner of his heart and soul?

Reality still hasn’t set in completely. One in which he’ll be tying the knot with his Hogwarts sweetheart. Promising a lifetime with him. Loving each other till death do them part, then reunite them in the afterlife. Everything feels like a dream still, rose-coloured and hazy, even when three months have already passed since he said yes.

Like second nature, his thumb finds the lovely band wrapped around his ring finger. A sweet reminder that follows him wherever he goes. Counting days, that seem longer the nearer the date of their happy end and new beginning.

Speaking of which, the date has been easy to decide. And Jason, on his part, thinks their choice is perfect. He knows Percy thinks the same too, so attuned with each other they are; two meshing gears in a well-oiled machine.

After all, what’s more romantic than to have your first kiss as a husband on the date you had as a boyfriend?

The story of their engagement day was an incredible one.

The talk of wizarding Britain for a month straight, it made the headline of the Prophet the very next day, dethroned the current It Witch Drew Tanaka in the cover of Witch Weekly the very next week (“The Wicked has fallen!” Piper had yelled), before making its home in the gossip column for at least three subsequent issues of any known wizarding publication.

Representing the UK, Jason had just sealed their victory against Peru in the World Cup finals that very fateful day. When he had presented the Snitch to Percy, as per their very own personal tradition, Percy had in turn knelt on the grass and stolen Jason’s heart once more. His adorably shaky fingers had unclasped the golden ball to reveal the most brilliant thing Jason had ever seen: a ring of rose gold etched in intricate waves, the head mounted with a sparkling aquamarine.

With the same solemnity, the exact sincerity, his voice held when he had first asked Jason to be his lover, Percy had said:

“Jason Grace, will you marry me?”

There was only one correct answer.

A photo, capturing the moment Jason had jumped into Percy’s arms before kissing him like his life depended on it, would make itself a permanent home on one of the walls of their hallway.

Later that night, with the warmth of afterglow still thrumming under his skin, and the sense of security taking form in the arms wrapped around him, he asked his would-be husband, “What would’ve happened if I’d lost the match?”

Percy made a show of humming in thought, complete with a contemplative frown. Apparently, via means Jason couldn’t even try to comprehend, he’d somehow colluded with the organisers to have the Snitch carry the engagement ring the whole game, with the goal of letting Jason unknowingly catch it.

“I wouldn’t know,” Percy decided, “because you didn’t lose.”

As his fingers drew shapeless patterns on Percy’s fuzzy chest, he mused, “I could have.”

“Nah,” Percy retorted, his voice taking on the stubborn edge that Jason was so intimately acquainted with. “I did my calculations, baby. I knew you’d win before you even got to the stadium.”

“Statistically, my darling, there’s always a possibility that I could,” Jason said matter-of-factly. “What would you've done, then?”

“My calculations were perfect, thank you very much,” Percy said, also matter-of-factly. “So, I still wouldn’t have known!”

“Have you already forgotten that time you’d lost a match against Hufflepuff? A team you had been one hundred percent confident you’d win against?”

“Oh,” Percy drawled. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, his eyes glinted like the rippling ocean under the moonlight. “I see how it is.” His lips, swollen from being kissed so much, bit back a smile. “Making your future spouse recall a traumatic experience now, aren’t you, Mr Jackson-Grace? Right after the best fucking sex we’ve ever had of all times? Shouldn’t you wait at least a month after the wedding to show your true colours?”

“Oh, Mr Grace-Jackson,” Jason replied sweetly, burying his nose into Percy’s sternum. He wanted to stay there forever. “You know I’d play all the cards in my hands whenever we argue.”

The throaty laugh escaping Percy’s lips was siren-like in its melody, stoking the fire within his chest brighter. He wished the sound could stay entrapped in his ear canals forever; he never wanted to stop listening to it.

“Well, if you wanna know so badly,” Percy relented. “In the almost impossible, purely hypothetical, higher-chance-Dumbledore-would-sooner-rise-from-his-grave scenario of you losing…I’d be thoroughly fucked!”

Their laughter twirled together in a dance above their heads.

“I’d probably have to steal the Snitch from the other team too,” Percy said amidst his giggles, “before they unknowingly take your ring across the ocean. Luckily for us,” he grinned, so beguilingly handsome. “I’m rather a prolific Seeker myself.”

His heart an ocean of bliss, Jason stifled a yawn and buried himself deeper into Percy’s embrace. How surreal it felt now, even after years of doing it; to lie in the arms of this beautiful man who wouldn’t just be his lover anymore. Who would also be his husband soon, his partner for life. A dream he didn’t have to wake up from, because it’s now the indubitable reality.

As he basked in such loveliness, a question formed itself in the back of his sleep-addled mind. “Darling.”

“Baby.”

“Should we go for the hyphen route, how do we decide the order of our surnames?”

“Let’s just draw lots tomorrow and call it a day,” Percy said.

“It won’t work with just the two of us, will it?”

“We’re hosting the get-together dinner with the Hogwarts lot, aren’t we?” Percy reminded him, finishing his words with a gigantic yawn. “Let’s do it with them, then.”

“Fantastic,” Jason mumbled. Despite the young night, sleepiness tugged at his eyelids. The rising and falling of Percy’s chest made it impossible to ignore. The cool sensation around his ring finger followed him into his dream, of an ethereal painting of rose petals on the sand and an altar by the beach.

The following day was an event in and of itself. After drawing lots five times in rapid succession, a couple of heated arguments between Thalia, Nico and Reyna that almost turned into a duel, and a chaotic coin toss that somebody had charmed into displaying heads on both sides, the decision was ultimately vetoed by the happy couple in the end.

And so, Jason was proud to announce that he would one day be known as a Mr Jackson-Grace.

“Jason! Jason!”

“Er, what?”

“Care to explain this?!” Thalia’s anguished voice pierces through Jason’s fond recounting of his most favourite memory. ”You’d never say stuff like this before! And to the press of all people? Are you out of your mind?!”

She snatches the newspaper from Piper before shoving the front page in his face. A huge moving photograph, of him smiling genially amidst the many blinding flashes of the camera, adorns half the page. In bold capitalised letters, the headline reads:

GRACE’S SECRET TO PEERLESS FLYING: “I RIDE MY FIANCÉ EVERY NIGHT.”

His jaw drops against his will. Finding the sufficient words to describe the sheer absurdity is a struggle on its own. After a good ten seconds, however, amusement betrays him in the end. It’s hard not to join in on Piper’s shrill laughter, which has yet to cease after five solid minutes, when you also happen to be the reason.

Merlin. The press can be crazy at times, but he certainly didn’t expect it to be this insane.

“What are you laughing about?!” Thalia demands.

“Okay. In my defence,” he takes a deep breath to compose himself, his grin refusing to go away, “I distinctly remember saying to the reporters that I ride with Percy every night. On our broomsticks. Separately.”

“So that’s why people were giving me funny looks at Diagon Alley,” a voice, dear and familiar, says on his right, just as he feels an arm snakes around his waist.

“Percy!” He didn’t notice their fireplace going off when the man in question Floo-ed in.

“Hello, my sweet.”

Jason sees his amused grin before his green eyes, still gleaming with the same kind of endearing boyishness from six years ago. As easy as breathing, Percy pulls him by the waist to plant a sweet kiss on the corner of his jaw, unbothered by the soot all over himself. As always, his black hair is a handsomely tousled mess, bangs draping over his lovely eyes gossamer-like. Jason waves the shopping bags away to fussily brush the dust off his fiancé.

“For the record, ladies,” Percy says, his eyes full of gratitude as he stares into Jason’s, “it’s actually every two to three nights.”

“Percy!” Jason admonishes, his reprimand ineffective by his own giggle.

“We should still sue the wankers, though! For all their worth,” Percy adds, serious yet unserious at the same time. He rests his forehead against Jason’s, and they share a fond, helpless grin.

“Merlin’s pants, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth chastises as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Could’ve gone peacefully without knowing that.” Exasperated, she snatches the offending newspaper back, before flipping to a presumably less crazier section.

“And I would’ve hexed your stupid arse to oblivion if Jason didn't love you as much as he does, Jackson,” Thalia supplies. It isn’t as threatening as usual. Her fondness for their display of affection must’ve mellowed her down.

“Love you too, Thals,” Percy throws a cheeky grin her way, chuckling as they watch her face fight off a smile behind her cup.

Jason’s heart squeezes happily. To see two of his most favourite people getting on is a blessing he won’t exchange for anything else.

Percy lets go of his waist, but not before nipping his lower lip affectionately. The spoils of his shopping float along as he crosses to the kitchen, arranging themselves into the arrays of cabinets and drawers and the large refrigerator.

As a half-blood, Percy has insisted on retaining a portion of his Muggle lifestyle. They purchased a home in a Muggle neighbourhood as a result, a quaint double-storey semi-detached house fondly dubbed as the Cabin, a callback from Percy’s favourite place back in his mum’s hometown in New York. It’s only a twenty-minute drive away from the Jackson-Blofis’, filled with everything you could find in a cosy Muggle household. The only recognizable magic consists of the private Floo connection and the Fidelius Charm, to keep the press and some deranged Quidditch fans away.

Over the hours, more of their friends come over. Grover and his girlfriend Juniper; Leo, Hazel and Frank; Nico, Will and Reyna; and Rachel, the last to arrive with her makeup supplies for Piper’s MUA duties. With every familiar face popping out of the fireplace, Jason can see the ever-present smile on Percy’s gorgeous face growing wider, his own heart soaring higher in return.

Times like this, when their loved ones are close, are the ones they appreciate the most. With everyone present, the walls of the Cabin would illuminate with the glow of camaraderie. Grover, Percy and Leo would run the kitchen to prepare culinary masterpieces. The ladies, a tightly-knit group as ever, would drag Frank in on one of their shenanigans. Nico and Will would hog the TV to watch some 90s soap operas.

Jason is content watching from the sidelines, often with a mug filled with hot cocoa in hand, occasionally joining whichever faction that wants him around. He feels happy and included in all of them; it feels like the bond they share transcends lifetimes and worlds over.

Jason probably has the best team of stylists ever. Granted, it’s a ragtag team of his friends who don’t style professionally, only as a hobby, but boy do they come through every time he needs to look good in front of the camera. Their teamwork is a spectacle on its own, working seamlessly like a well-oiled sewing machine whenever Jason Grace needs a look (“Lewk,” Piper would always correct him) worthy of the male celebrities’ section of Witch Weekly.

The process is simple and well-rehearsed, divided according to each member’s talent. Rachel sketches and colours, Annabeth measures and sews, and Piper paints the face. Hazel and Reyna assist on the side, while Thalia sips a glass of firewhisky nearby, occasionally giving her grunts of approval. The men know to stay clear, though Nico and Will would sometimes chime in to provide helpful input.

The theme this time is robin egg blue. Their suits, tailored to match as always, quality rivalling those of Madam Malkin’s, are embroidered gorgeously in shimmering threads to detail patterns of clouds and waves, illustrating the horizon parting the crystalline skies and the tranquil seas. To distinguish the wearer, Percy’s suit is of a slimmer cut to fit his swimmer’s build, whilst Jason’s tapers at the waist to accommodate his own shape. Instead of flowing around the body like Jason’s does, the shine of Percy’s dress robe magically ripples downwards, to mimic merry waves hitting a summertime beach.

When Percy twirls around to showcase his outfit, Jason has never seen a lovelier picture. How is it fair for him to fall for the most beautiful man in the world? He’s not sure he can survive their first fitting in the future.

Then, it is time for makeup. Though he knew he shouldn’t be looking down on Piper’s skills (which are godly, by the way, despite her aversion to wearing any kind of cosmetics herself), it didn’t prevent his usual unfair presumption: nothing she attempts could ever hope to elevate the perfect canvas that is Percy’s face. Perfection cannot be improved, after all, and Percy’s natural features were painted by the Muses.

But once she’s done, and Percy turns to look at him, lo and behold: once again, she has achieved the impossible. Clever enough to leave the canvas as it is, she’s added subtle yet intricate engravings to its frame, tastefully complementing the existing work of art.

Hazel voices out his thoughts helpfully: “Wow. Makeup is really a whole other branch of magic.”

“Funny, because this collection is all Muggle-made,” Rachel says with a sprinkle of smugness.

When his eyes arrive at Percy’s countenance from their frantic travelling up his physique, whatever air that was left inside his lungs departs in a sharp outtake of breath.

A poet would find inspiration from the glitter that hung from the curve of Percy’s long, rich eyelashes; compose songs in the subtle turquoise blended into his eyelids. A painter could paint flowers of the prettiest pigment if they extract the rose of his lips; sandy beaches from the smooth brown of his flawless skin; and the seashells dotting the sand from the shadows of his stubble. His hair, untameable like the roughest of seas, is now subdued to a windswept look that weakens Jason’s knees.

He's no artist, but a strong urge to get a drawing quill and a roll of parchment suddenly overwhelms his chest. A subject like Percy would only allow masterpieces to exist, even if made by hands as untrained as his.

“Breathe, guys,” Leo pipes up.

Oh. Being deprived of air for quite some time, his lungs have long caught on fire. The adrenaline flowing through his veins is better than Quidditch itself.

When did Percy close the distance between them? He’s a few metres away just a second ago, and now Jason can smell the seaside tang of his breath, its warmth caressing his cheeks like sea breeze. Up close, his sea green irises, left untouched by the makeover, turn out the most beautiful. Bright, earnest and pure, just like how they were in the trophy room a million years ago.

“I would kiss you senseless right now,” Percy says, his grin widening into that of the Cheshire Cat’s, “but I can’t do that without ruining our lipsticks.”

Jason’s own makeover has been nothing special. A dash of glitter here, a few brushes of rouge there, over and out. “Frankly, Jason, Mum would probably be pissed if she ever sees me touching your face up,” Piper says, the meaning of her words escaping his understanding. The mirror seems to agree; he hardly sees a difference after she's done.

Not that it matters in the end. After all, he’s always been a poor judge of his own looks. Though judging from Percy’s reaction, she’s probably done an exquisite job. And he only really cares for Percy’s opinion.

“Er, should we leave?” Grover says. “Looks like they’re about to undress each other again.”

“Ew!” exclaims someone else, but Jason is too entranced at this point to know who.

“Alright, everyone out!” Percy announces with a clap that resounds in his head, kind enough to break him out of his silly reverie. “Thank you so much for pretty much everything, but we’re about to head out, and we don’t want to be greeted by a pile of rubble when we get back.”

“Can’t even trust your own friends with house-sitting?” Nico says.

“I’m gonna fuck him as soon as we walk through the door when we’re back,” Percy replies with a shrug, “and I wouldn’t care who’s there to—”

Half of them are out the door before Percy could finish his sentence.

“Works every time,” Percy said, as soon as Thalia, the last of their friends, Floo-ed away in an angry burst of green flames.

“You’re a walking menace.”

“And you love me for it.”

“And I love you for it.”

Jason walks backwards as he guides Percy by the hand towards the back door, not at all worried of running into anything by accident, every inch of the Cabin long mapped into the back of his mind. The evening breeze greets them as they step outside, its scent a little damp and woody. Their most favourite spot to Disapparate together is the backyard, a shrine filled with all kinds of paraphernalia, big or small, narrating tales of their loved ones. Sally’s beds of roses, Estelle’s mini playground, Paul’s tools for his home projects, Thalia’s archery targets; things to miss when they depart, and to look forward to seeing when they arrive home. He already misses all of them.

Right at the threshold of the pathway leading to their private Quidditch pitch, Percy loosens his hold to lace their fingers together. Where they've always belonged.

“You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

There’s a hint of a whine in Percy’s next words. “Can’t wait to get home already.”

Jason smiles softly. “I’ll be there with you, won't I?

“Oh!” Percy mirrors his expression. “You’re right.”

Home is wherever they’re together, after all.

Before the swirling darkness of Disapparation takes over, Percy’s warm face, evoking all good feelings within those privileged enough to witness, is the last thing Jason sees.

***

Percy isn’t the most self-conscious person in the room, but they really do make quite the pair before the press.

And Merlin, is he not made to be press material.

“And joining us for the gala this beautiful evening is the thrice world champion, the hottest Seeker in the scene, Jason Grace! And his wonderful beau Percy Jackson!” Despite the Sonorus spell casted directly to his throat, the interviewer somehow finds it necessary to shout his announcement anyway, like it’s the only way to be heard above all the clicking noises of the press cameras. His face, in Percy’s honest opinion, looks exceptionally punchable.

All around the press wall, which bears the logos of the International Association of Quidditch and its various sponsors, white flashes assault Percy and Jason’s visions blind as they try for smiles that might as well be grimaces. The only solace is Jason’s fingers intertwining his, a sweet anchor in a sea of madness.

Right this second is Percy’s least favourite part of this whole semi-famous thing he has going on as Jason’s partner. Not that he has any place he’d rather be other than by Jason’s side. Not at all. It’s just that being the centre of attention isn’t very kind to his temperament, and the noise and the flashes and the heat only serve to make things worse.

Ever his hero in shining armor, Jason does his best to direct all the attention to himself, cutting through the questions quickly so they can move on. In the meantime, Percy tries his best to maintain his dwindling composure and stave off his rising nausea. His vision flies everywhere, in need of something easier on the eye to help. Predictably, Jason’s perfect side profile does the trick.

“Hello? Earth to Percy?” a ping of a voice intrudes his already wobbling mindscape. He barely suppresses the urge to growl like a territorial wolf.

“Er, yes?”

“Other than staring at your fiancé all evening, which is understandable,” the interviewer jokes, like he ever has the right to, “what are you most excited for in this event?”

Deep breaths. Remember your PR training. Make Frank proud.

“Going home, definitely,” Percy says, his next words accompanied with a wink. “Jason and I have our nightly riding to do.”

Jason laughs before playfully pinching his side. “He meant broomstick riding, by the way. No funny headlines tomorrow, folks.”

“Or our lawyer will keep in touch!” Percy adds with a cheeky grin. Jason laughs again as he waggles his index finger at the interviewer—a lighthearted warning of a not-so-lighthearted consequence.

“Cheeky as always!” the interviewer says cheerfully. His posture betrays otherwise, visibly unsettled by the threat lurking underneath their unassuming smiles. “Now, Jason, what do you think of the new faces for this upcoming—”

Despite his discomfort for interviews, Jason glows like the star he is, the perfect picture of a celebrity sportsman. The marvel of his glasses perching on the strong curve of his nose serves as Percy’s distraction for the next few minutes of press torture. Then, before he can give in to Disapparating back to the Cabin on the spot, they’re finally, finally being led towards the heart of the celebration.

As they walk through the grand double doors and into the gargantuan hall serving as the venue, Jason’s hand around his own tightens in a quick squeeze, as if to say, ‘Good job out there.’

It could also mean nothing, but he finds himself preening anyway.

Out of biased nostalgia, he’s inclined to believe that the Great Hall back in Hogwarts is the most magical place when it comes to hosting a grand event. Now that he’s here, this place certainly gives it a run for its Galleons. The ceiling is conceptually familiar, charmed in a way to showcase the astral magnificence above, but the interior design, boasting impressive Ancient Roman architecture, certainly exudes more pzazz. Every inch of it speaks of grandeur, dialled up to eleven, regaled by the marble floor and the pillars of gold, giving off the illusion of an ancient godly residence.

In celebration of Quidditch and the sportsmanship it brings out of every attendee, waiters zoom around on leisure broomsticks, handing out glasses of overpriced beverages to those desiring to drink the night away. Replicas of the Golden Snitch flit over people’s heads, dangling lucky prizes to whoever manages to catch them by hand (no brooms allowed). Tables topped with crystal covers, decorated with swaths of silk ribbons, boast fancy china plates of culinary specialties hailing from every member country of the Association. The aroma hanging over the dining area is enough to make anyone with working taste buds salivate. The festive air is so electric, Percy could almost feel its buzz within his bones.

Merlin, he thinks ruefully, it’s gonna be a long night.

An event like this, in which the majority of its attendees are world-class athletes, can only mean one thing: good-looking people frolicking around everywhere. People whose winks can make the average Quidditch fan blush in an instant, whose musculature can make anyone weak in the knees…for those who are looking, this place is a prime opportunity for a prospective relationship, serious or otherwise. More than once Percy could recognize people he’d seen countless times in magazines, some of them legends whose active years even preceded his time in Hogwarts.

Despite that, it’s funny how nobody holds a candle to Jason. Pale in comparison, pitifully eclipsed, reduced to the shadows, by the walking sun by his side.

Jason’s ensemble for the night seems to agree with him, billowing around his fit body like a cool superhero’s cape. The eye-catching robin egg blue perfectly complements his divine exterior, making every feature pop; his eyes bluer, his lips redder, his hair as if spun from pure gold. Matching robes was probably the best decision they’ve ever made as a celebrity couple. Percy loves how it tells everyone else who he belongs to, who he belongs with.

I’m the luckiest man in the world, aren’t I?

“I heard Albus has already started his first year at Hogwarts,” Jason says out of the blue, eyes casted towards a corner of the hall, unaware of how musical he sounds in Percy’s ears. “He’s grown so big already.”

Percy follows his gaze to see the Potters, who—sans their infamous eldest child—are lounging around a table at the VIP section. Despite drawing every eye in the vicinity to their general direction, they mostly keep to themselves, only making polite conversations with the starry-eyed passersby when necessary. The boy in question, a downright clone of his legendary dad, is particularly gloomy-looking.

“And little Lily! It feels like only yesterday since she’s this small,” Jason says adoringly, hands shaped as if holding an invisible Quaffle.

“You sound like you’re the one giving birth to her.”

“Half of the League players think they did,” Jason agrees. He then sighs, in a longing way that makes Percy’s heart clench. “Having kids must be so lovely.”

“Wait ‘til we get home, baby. I’ll put as many as you want inside you.”

Jason pauses, eyes widening in surprise, before a hopelessly infatuated grin cracks his face.

“Oh my wonderfully vulgar fiancé,” he whispers, chuckling amusedly as he closes the already small distance between them. The azure of his eyeliner sparkles as he blinks at Percy, wondrous, like his offhanded dirty talking is ever something to wonder about. He noses Percy’s cheek, affectionate, as if they’re not at the edge of the polychromatic dance floor about to headline a ball. “You’re lucky I’m beyond head over heels for you.”

Overhead, the emcee announces their presence and implores them to take the floor. They walk hand in hand as they do, soaking in the cheers all over. As the band begins to play the flowy tune of an idyllic waltz, Jason turns around, places his hand over his heart, and takes a bow before Percy. The fabric of his robe flows around him majestically, in tandem with his elegant gestures.

Mine, Percy thinks.

“May I have this dance?” Jason extends his hand out, offering a beacon of happiness.

Percy takes that warm, solid grip into his own. Goosebumps run down every inch of him as he feels the callouses that have long etched themselves into his own skin. Everything else tunes itself out. It’s a wonderful feeling that never ages: as familiar as home, yet so novel every time.

With Jason Grace, everything is a never-ending loop of a brand new experience.

Jason’s other hand touches the small of his back. With a slight push inwards, he brings their bodies flush together. Like they’re created so, their fingers connect seamlessly. In a flash, the surrounding banishes itself into non-existence, and they’re left all alone.

“I’m all yours,” Percy replies, right before he’s brought to a twirl for a night to remember.

Ah. Twelve years old Percy would probably cry at the sight of them dancing like this. Maybe wish he’d grow faster just to rush headlong into this moment.

Twenty-four years old Percy is rather simple; he’s the happiest he ever feels.

This happiness will certainly grow when Jason walks down the aisle towards him in the near future, ready to proclaim their sacred, eternal vows.

But now?

To dance in their private bubble of bliss, while the rest of the world ceases to exist?

Nothing could ever compare—past, present and future.

“Ow,” Jason says as Percy steps on his foot.

Way to ruin the moment. “Whoops.”

“Oh, darling.” Jason’s voice is hoarse and thick. “I’m so happy I could cry. Thank you for snapping me out of it.”

Percy decides against admitting that he’s three seconds away from bawling himself. Blinking the sting away, he resorts to giving Jason something better: his most charming, carefree grin yet. “Anytime.”

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, aren’t I?”

Jason yelps a little as Percy pushes him down to kiss him deep.

“Get over yourself,” he says against Jason’s lips. Cradled in his arm, Jason’s broad back is pliant and warm. “I am.”

And thus the dance floor transforms itself into clouds for good. Everywhere around them turns into the vast blue sky, unlimited. Jason mirrors his face, all luscious pink and pearly whites, woven and painted and carved from the finest stuff of dreams, before he takes him for the soaring of his lifetime.

They stumble upon the Potters on their way to sneak out, not even an hour into the gala. It’s one of their signature moves in any event, common knowledge to any organiser at this point. One that Percy finds to be a lot of fun. Accept the invitation, create a spectacle, then ditch the place before the celebration reaches its peak.

He didn’t expect the most famous wizard in the world would also do the same.

“Hello, my good chaps,” says the Boy Who Lived. “Off to escape too?”

“Oh!” Jason exclaims, reverting to an eleven-year-old meeting his hero for the first time. “Good evening, Mr Potter, Ginny.”

“Funny how you call my wife by her first name but not me,” Harry Potter says amusedly. “Just call me Harry.”

Out of kindness, Percy does not point out the second flustered, “Oh!” coming out of Jason. “I’m so sorry. It’s the first time we ever talked, so I wasn’t sure if it’s proper.”

“Don’t sweat it, Jason,” Ginny says kindly. “A friend of mine is a friend of Harry’s.”

“Right,” Harry says.

“Right!” Jason says sheepishly. After a second of visibly collecting himself, he gestures towards Percy with a grand wave, like presenting a masterpiece. Always doing the most during introductions. “And this is my very lovely fiancé, Percy Jackson.”

Percy elbows him good-naturedly before giving the family a small wave. “Hi.”

“Go on, kids,” Harry says. “Introduce yourselves.”

Like Weasley-made firecrackers, so full of life: “Hi, I’m Lily! I’m a huge fan of yours, Mr Grace!”

The way Jason glows with adoration is one for the books. Percy almost feels jealous of a child. Almost.

“It’s an honour, Miss Potter. Please, call me Jason,” Jason says with a princely bow, rewarded with a giggle out of the youngest Potter.

From the other kid, an almost inaudible, “Hullo,” escapes. So faint, like the whisper of wind over the spindly branches of the Forbidden Forest. Percy has to strain his ears just to catch it. “Albus.”

“Hello!” Jason says. “I heard it’s your first year at Hogwarts, Albus. Having a good time over there?”

Wrong question. It doesn’t escape both of them the way Ginny whispers to herself, “Oh, dear.” Harry himself has gone stock still, exchanging a worried look with his wife.

When Albus says nothing and just toes the floor with one of his leather shoes, Jason takes the hint with stride and barely a crack to his charming demeanour. “Don’t worry if you aren’t. Hogwarts isn’t the end-all be-all of your life, and you’re barely starting! I’m sure you’ll get the hang of things soon enough.”

“School sucked for me most of the time too. ‘specially when I started,” Percy adds with a shrug. “You’ll be okay. Just find a cute kid to crush on secretly for five years like I did, and use that as motivation to survive your every day.”

“Percy!” Jason exclaims sheepishly, flustered.

“Fine. A best friend can work too!” He leans in so only Albus can hear. “Nerdy blond boys just worked better in my case.”

Oh, look. There’s a hint of a blush on those freckled cheeks now, barely hidden by the raised shoulders trying to cover equally pink ears. One way or another, his words have hit a mark within the boy. Mayhaps they’re kindred souls; he somehow knows their situations aren’t so dissimilar.

He pushes his luck just a tad further. “As long as they’re there, right?”

Though Albus is still adamant to not meet any of their gazes, a few seconds pass before he finally nods. The looks of relief shared between Harry and Ginny are palpable. Percy gives himself a mental pat on the back. Silently, he wishes the young boy all the best.

Maybe he can manage this whole parenting thing. In the far, unforeseeable future, perhaps.

“James didn’t come?” Jason asks the couple. His question is met with two pairs of rolling eyes.

“Oh, he was here. For all of five minutes,” Ginny explains with a hint of exasperation. “Off with his godbrother as soon as he got the chance.”

“I reckon he’s already home by now,” Harry adds. “Which is good, to be fair, because it’s way past their bedtimes. Well, then.” He gives a nod to each of them. “‘Till we meet again, gentlemen.”

“It’s nice meeting you lovely couple,” Ginny says as they all exchange their parting handshakes.

Lily gives them an enthusiastic wave in parting, and Albus finally works up the courage to look them in the eyes. Percy gives the kid what he dubs as his big brother smile, and is rewarded with another determined nod.

Once the Potters Disapparated in a deafening crack, Jason laces their fingers together. He sighs in fondness once more, blissfully unaware of its effect on Percy. “Kids are so lovely, aren’t they?”

And if that isn’t a blatant hint for what awaits him at home, Percy hasn’t a clue what is.

The moon is reminiscent of its shape during their escapade to the Astronomy Tower a millennium ago.

There are no stakes this time, however. No risk of getting caught by professors or annoying caretakers and their tattling cats. No need to sneak around telescopes and globes while painstakingly covering their tracks. No sense of urgency of impending deadlines, of running out of time, or of counting days until one of them quit Quidditch for good.

Because now, they have all the time in the world.

Percy and Jason’s private Quidditch pitch is located in a vast area enlarged by magic, its true form being a measly portion of their gated backyard. The spell, of course, was performed by the joint efforts of the brains of their gang, the pitch itself solely of Annabeth’s architectural prowess despite her supposed disinterest for Quidditch. The structure of the building is an almost one-to-one replica of the iconic pitch at Hogwarts, minus the colours of the four Houses found in the decor (which was replaced by their favourite shade of blue as per their personal wishes). Jason’s current team sometimes use it as their base, but most of the time, it is the only witness to Percy and Jason’s private, nightly riding.

Tonight, Jason has a little bit of a surprise for him.

“You still have that old thing?” Percy says amusedly, as Jason, in an impressive show of wandless magic, Vanishes the dust off a very familiar broomstick.

“It’s the broomstick I used when you beat me for the first time,” Jason says casually, slotting the handle between his legs, familiarising with the sensation of it underneath him. He’s never looked more at home. “You bet I’m gonna keep it forever.”

“And you think that’s gonna help you now?” Percy replies, making a show of looking unimpressed.

By today’s standards, the broomstick might as well be an ancient artefact. A far cry from Jason’s current beast reserved for tournaments, on which he would perform gravity defying moves like the god he is, a state-of-the-art, one-of-a-kind flying machine handcrafted exclusively for him by the top broomstick makers in Japan.

“If I can’t use any kind of broomstick to beat an old retired school player,” Jason says innocently, “can I even call myself one of the top three Seekers in the world?”

Percy rolls his eyes, prompting an amused snort out of his fiancé. Saying ‘top three’ was just another instance of Jason’s unnecessary humility; he’s officially the no. 1 player, thus the no. 1 Seeker, in the world.

Not that Percy would ever go down without a fight. Especially against the best opponent he could ever have.

Kicking off the ground on one of Jason’s spare broomsticks, which has seen his victory in the World Cup finals four years ago, Percy taunts, “Well, this school player is about to end his retirement just to kick your arse tonight.”

“Fantastic.” Jason’s scar stretches as he grins, the curve of his mouth wide as a hungry wolf's. Despite riding the school standard broomstick, his takeoff is as seamless as ever, like an eagle taking flight. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And just like that, they’re flying in tandem with one another, still mostly dressed from the gala. With the robe out of the way, the waistcoat hugs Jason in such a sinful way that emphasises his tight waist.

Percy can’t wait to strip everything off him.

“Remember this other old friend?” Jason says, unveiling yet another surprise as he unclasps his fingers.

The dark does nothing to diminish the golden shine flitting out of his hand. While every single one of the little buggers looks the same to Percy most of the time, he can tell the significance of this particular Golden Snitch. From the way Jason looks at it with an exceptionally adoring gaze, it’s none other than the one that had witnessed the day they became fiancés.

“You know how some old couples would renew their vows?” Jason asks. Percy nods slowly, his heart in his throat. “I was thinking of us doing the same thing.”

His pulse picks up speed. “We’re not married yet.”

“We aren’t, but in our case, I’m not talking about wedding vows.” A deep breath. An earnest gaze. Then, “I’d like a chance to renew our proposal.”

Percy’s chest is a limitless world, of which his soul makes its oyster. “Oh?”

“I never had the chance to propose to you back,” Jason says, a little sheepishly. “Mostly because I never thought I’d be able to outdo yours—the singular most magical thing to ever happen to me.” At the sight of that smile turning a tad more smug, Percy’s poor mind goes into overdrive. “But that changes now.”

“Yeah?”

In a steady voice, Jason announces: “I challenge you to a Seeking game, Percy Jackson. The first to catch the Golden Snitch shall win the chance to propose the other once again.”

The night can’t get any better. “Bring it on, Jason Grace.”

In this game of their own design, the rules are rather simple. The beginning entails letting the Snitch wander off for five minutes, exploring the nook and cranny of the pitch to find the perfect hiding spot, before the Seeking begins. Then, whoever catches it first wins. Simple and, with Jason as his opponent, bloody fun. After playing this game for probably a couple thousand times, Percy is proud to say he’s not falling off too much behind the best Seeker in the world.

(He has a rising suspicion that Jason is secretly training him to play professionally, but that’s a topic for later.)

The measly five minute period is usually the time they’d have a quick chat about nothing or anything. Which, to him, means everything. Sometimes, they’d taunt each other good-naturedly, or playfully try to jostle the other off his broomstick. Most of the time, though, they just revel in the evening air in companionable silence, soaking in each other’s wonderful presence.

Tonight is a tiny bit different.

Almost coyly, yet very coquettish somehow, Jason flies closer to hold his hand and play with his fingers. Embarrassingly, despite everything they've done in bed together, Percy’s heart skips a beat. Their engagement rings are off for now, carried away by the tiny flying ball for this silly little game.

“You know, darling,” his beautiful fiancé says, “we should try for a baby tonight.”

This is bait, he knows that much. But at this point, after years in this perpetually sweet romance, he might as well be an unassuming fish.

Desire pours out of his lips in a rich tone, sultry and deep. “Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t mind a head start for one before we take our vows.” Jason’s face is so close, their noses are practically brushing against each other. His scent, of butterbeer and strawberries and clouds and invigorating musk, is downright divine. “Build our own little family as soon as possible.”

It's probably bad to have a stiffy while flying, isn't it? That day, Percy learns that wood against wood is rather an uncomfortable combination.

“I’d love that.”

“And you’re gonna make it so good for me tonight, aren’t you?”

Oh, he’ll make it so good for him, alright. So fucking good, Jason won’t be able to walk properly for days. In fact, if there’s even a sliver of possibility that he can, he’ll have Jason out of the game for nine months straight.

“I’ll rock your whole world, baby.”

Like a goddamn puppy, Jason whines needily, before locking their lips together in a searing kiss. Percy momentarily forgets everything. Even himself. “Mhm.”

When Jason pulls back, his face is lovelier than the full moon. His half-lidded gaze is the epitome of allure, his lips a promise to bliss. Percy dies, then comes back, all within a blink of an eye.

Filthily needy, yet so wholeheartedly sincere, Jason whispers hotly against his mouth:

“I love you, Percy.”

No paradise could be better than this.

“I love you more—OI!”

Like a balloon, his reply inflates and bursts into surprised, almost indignant cackles, right after Jason leaves him in a burst of wind. It’s answered with Jason’s own melodic laughter, peals of it ringing into the night, diminishing the farther he zooms away.

Looks like the bloke has some Slytherin in him, after all. Not that it’s a surprise; Percy has poured more than enough inside him, in more ways than one.

Oh, well. While victory is exquisite, he doesn’t really mind losing this time. He has long won. He’s now just indulging the rewards to his endeavours. In fact, there’s little to lose when it comes to loving Jason Grace. His soul is but a measly price.

Letting out a whoop of sheer, unadulterated joy, he presses his torso closer to the handle, summons every bit of his Seeking skills within his body, and rockets after his beloved.

Barreling against the chilly night air, he thinks for the millionth time: what an incredible thing, this love is.

And the world simply agrees. It is pure as the pearlescent moonglow bathing over the pitch, exhilarating like the roaring wind around him. Astoundingly magnificent, like the keeper of his heart soaring over the clouds on a broomstick, unstoppable by none.

Years have passed by, yet Jason still remains the boy that never fails to set his heart ablaze. Everlastingly bright.

The end.

#jercy #jasercy #jason grace #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #key writes #7.9k #you set my heart ablaze #finally. my shoulders feel so much lighter now that i've finished this silly thing

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