#its just so rare that i’ve found someone like her

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

#danny phantom #au #zilly art #I just wanted to draw a boy with long hair and claws how did this happen #fire core au

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Bad Decisions (+18)

Bad Decisions (Sanji x f Reader)

Summary: Your hunger and your impulsivity both get the best of you and you end up in a compromising position. You ask Sanji for help, but it might be even more important to him than it is to you.

Pairing: Sanji x afab!reader

WC: 3500+ oops

TWs: vaginal sex, pet names, oral sex, fingering, crying, begging, virginity loss, it's porn with a brief plot idk man

You were starving. You and the crew had just finished a rough fight on a random island and brought back several chests and bags of treasure back to the ship. For over an hour after your return, you sat on the wooden floor of the deck with Nami going through bags full of gold, silver, and rare jewels. 

“Once we find somewhere to turn all this into berries we can buy the CUTEST new outfits!” Nami shouted with her back to you, head buried in a treasure chest.

“Nami your closet can barely close and you still have stuff with the tags on it, what the hell do you need new clothes for?” You quipped back while rummaging through a burlap sack.

“I’m a pirate, I can do whatever I want y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and continued going through the bag. Your hand felt something… fleshy? Like the soft, tender skin of a banana. You grabbed it and pulled it out to see a strange pink, oblong fruit. Your immediate thought was that this was a devil fruit, but it didn’t bear the signature swirled texture. 

“Nami... come look at this…”

A door was suddenly flung open from the galley. 

“Hello my beautiful girls! I’ve prepared you an aperitif to keep you satiated before dinner is ready! My sweet y/n here-“

Sanji stopped in his tracks after his sudden intrusion.

“Where the hell did you get that? Put it down!” Sanji swiftly placed the tray he was carrying on a barrel and snatched the strange produce out of your hand. 

You were confused as to why Sanji suddenly looked so concerned. 

“Sanji what the fuck is your problem? I found that fair and square!” You snapped at him, your piracy-addled brain wanting to keep it for yourself since it was clearly of value at this point. He held it behind his back as you approached him.

“Mon amour you don’t understand, this is a very dangerous berry and should not be consumed under any circumstance.” Sanji stepped forward, eyes dark with concern.

“Ok weirdo keep your purple banana, I’m here for the diamonds.” Nami said as she carried several of the bags downstairs on the Sunny to the storeroom, leaving you and Sanji in a stalemate on the deck. 

“I’m putting this away.” he said as he walked back into the galley. You followed him quickly, not even letting the door close behind him before threw it open behind you and snipped at him.

“Ok give it up cook, what’s your deal with this thing? Why is it dangerous? It’s not a devil fruit, right?” 

“You don’t understand. These are very rare fruits that are native to the South Blue. I’ve only heard tales from patrons at the Baratie of what this can do to you. It’s the worlds most powerful aphrodisiac.” Sanji’s hands were shaking as he placed the fruit on the kitchen island. 

You snorted trying to keep your laughter in but it fought its way to the front. “Hahaha oh stop it! Those are old wives tales, Sanji. If it’s not a devil fruit, it’s harmless. You’re afraid of it, why? Afraid that it will make you what? Too horny? Come on, be serious!”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack, love. You have NO idea what this can do to someone. And there’s only one way to reverse the affects.” He met your gaze with his last sentence. You expected him to wink or pull something perverted, but his blue eyes showed nothing but worry. You sighed and backed off, realizing that the fruit probably wasn’t worth any money. You returned to the deck and going through the bags Nami left behind.

—-

After another half hour of treasure picking, you heard the growl of your stomach and was painfully reminded of how hungry you were. You silently cursed the curly-browed chef that dinner was taking so long. You made your way to the galley to see how the cooking process was going. 

You walked in to find an empty kitchen. Sanji was probably out having a cigarette. He stopped smoking in the kitchen as much after Robin found a pile of ash in her scrambled eggs one morning. Sanji felt so bad that he cried and groveled for three days. 

You remembered where Sanji stashed that fruit in the ice box. 

Curiously you lifted the lid of the ice box and grabbed the strange berry. As you rolled it in your hand inspecting it, your stomach panged again. Long term thinking had NEVER been your strong suit, hence why you ended up on a dangerous pirate crew with little experience at sea. 

Impulsively, you popped the fruit in your mouth. 

And god, fuck, it was the most magical taste you’ve ever experienced. It was like dark chocolate, raspberries, lavender, all the most tender, delicate flavors rolled into one. You audibly groaned as you tongued it around your mouth. You didn’t want the experience to end but you had to swallow. Right as the fruit hit your stomach the door to the deck opened and there was your blonde lovecook. He looked at you, then at the empty fruit stem in your hand. 

“Tell me you didn’t…” he stood there, mouth agape. 

“So what if I did? I was hungry and you’re dragging ass with dinner. Those stories aren’t even real, I’ll be fine.” You confidently strode towards him trying to move around his tall, slender frame when he grabbed the sides of your arms and forced you to look at him. 

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS?”

“Get off me!” You were young but you were strong and you shook off his grasp with ease. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me. I can handle myself.” And you ducked past him and walked out onto the deck and back down to your room. You would be fine, right? He had no evidence other than stories from dirty old men on the Baratie. You spent awhile in your room reading before the crew was called for dinner. It was a beautiful spread. Luffy was dominating the serving platters while you sat next to Robin and joked about something gross Franky had done earlier in the day with a large bottle of cola. 

Halfway through the meal you started to feel warm. You ignored it, blaming the summer heat. But the warmth grew, spread to your cheeks and deep in your tummy. Your skin felt like you had a fresh sunburn. Robin rubbed your arm accidentally while laughing at a joke and you jolted forward, your skin being so sensitive and hot. 

“Are you okay y/n?” Robin asked looking into your eyes, visibly concerned.

“I’m fine I think… I think I’m just tired… maybe I need to go to bed.”

You looked across the wooden dining table and Sanji was staring directly at you. He had clearly been watching you the whole time, eyes filled with concern for your physical state. You ignored his glare and excused yourself back down to your room. This feeling was unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. It was like static electricity going straight through your veins. You went straight to the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face repeatedly. After a big sigh you buried your face in a towel. Looking up into the mirror you notice something. Your nipples were completely erect. 

You couldn’t possibly believe that this fruit did what Sanji said it did… but you realized you were growing increasingly wet between your legs. 

“You’re kidding…” You audibly curse to yourself. 

You went back to your bed and grabbed your book to start reading and calm yourself down. You stared at the pages, your brain unable to focus on any of the words, only able to focus on the electric feeling in your body. 

Your body was no longer just hot, it was BURNING. You were wearing a large grey t shirt and light pink panties. You look down and see that you’ve soaked them completely through. Frustrated, you throw your book on the table and lay fully on your back. You want to resolve the issue quickly without problems so you reach your hand down into your underwear and start to circle your clit with your right hand. 

It wasn’t enough. 

You insert your pointer and middle finger inside of yourself the way you always do when you need to release. It wasn’t working. You were hurting. It simply wasn’t enough. You kept trying. You were panting and sweating, your hair plastered to your forehead and grunting in frustration as you struggled to reach a peak. Your skin was so sensitive but you simply couldn’t get there. You were starting to feel sick…. The hot, sweating feeling becoming too much for your brain. An idea suddenly hit you-

“There’s only one way to reverse the effects.” Sanji. He knew. He knew how to fix this. You sprinted out of bed, still in a t shirt and panties and grabbed your baby den den mushi and called the Sunny’s landline, knowing it was in the kitchen and Sanji would be there washing dishes. It rang. You waited. Sweat beads dripping down your forehead, pain radiating through your lower half, you kept waiting for a response. 

“Y/n? Mon amour? Are you okay?” Sanji’s concerned, deep voice came through on the line.

“No I’m not. You were right I was wrong, okay? I need you to get down here now.”

He breathed heavily on the other end, having an idea as to what you were going through. He didn't respond.

“Sanji. You told me you knew how to fix this. Please…” your voice was trembling and broken. 

As soon as he heard the desperation in your begging he knew it was serious. He had an obligation to his crew mate. 

“I’ll be there right now.” And he hung up.

Barely a few moments later you heard rapid knocks on your door and the knob turning. Sanji was fully unprepared for the sight he saw when he entered your room.

There you were. Laid out on your bed, but thighs clamped together so desperately trying to get any sort of friction on your aching clit. Sweat from your neck had stained your large, old t shirt. Your breathing was so heavy he could see your breasts rise and fall tiredly, clearly not wearing a bra. 

“I told you not to do this…”

“Okay! I know! I get it! I should have listened to you! But right now Sanji I-… I need your help.. please…” 

He had imagined it so many times… you spread out in bed, begging and pleading for him. Was he dreaming again? He fisted his cock late at night so often thinking about this exact situation. But as a gentleman he was hesitant. Would you be begging for him like this had you not ingested that fruit? Would it be right to touch you like this? You weren’t drunk, you weren’t on drugs, but is it right? His brain was going a thousand nautical miles a minute until you spoke again.

“Sanji…”

You looked at him as you sat up on your elbows. You let your legs fall apart as far as they would go so he could see the massive soaked spot on your panties. 

“Sanji please… it hurts so much…” 

Hurts. You said it hurts. You were in pain. He could see the tears threatening to fall from your lashes. He has never seen you like this a day in his life, even 2 years ago when you first joined the crew and you were new to piracy. He had seen you take blade slices and Chopper sewed them up with no anesthesia and you barely winced. He could barely imagine the pain and frustration that was causing you to have this reaction now. He vowed to never leave a woman in distress, and you certainly were. 

“Let me go get Chopper, he will know what to do.”

“NO!” You shout at him. “Don’t you dare tell anyone on this ship what happened. You said you could help me and I need it.” You were pleading with him. He saw the look in your eyes. So much desperation. So much lust. How could he leave you writhing in all this pain?

Screw it. 

Sanji quickly slips off his shirt jacket and it falls to the floor. He strides toward you loosening his tie. He sits down next to you on the bed. He was more than a little hesitant but he couldn’t resist anymore.

“I need you to understand... that if I help you with this… we won’t ever be the same… I need you to tell me that’s okay.” 

You grabbed his hand. It was so soft and delicate in yours. Slender fingers slotting in between yours. You looked up into his all-blue eyes, you could see the worry. He looked at you like a porcelain doll that he might break if he takes it off the shelf to play with. But you could tell deep down, he wanted to play.

“It’s okay. I need your help Sanji. Please help me.” You breathed out, the feelings getting so much more intense. Your pussy was clenching around nothing after just feeling his hand in yours… your pulse was so high… You needed release soon or you thought you might have a heart attack.

“Fine. But if anything feels wrong you’ll tell me to stop, love, right?”

You nodded your head aggressively and lifted your torso off the bed and removed your shirt. Tossing it aside you then shimmied off your panties, leaving your body fully naked on the bed for him. He had never seen something so beautiful… pert, full breasts heaving on your chest, a sheen of sweat covering your skin. A puddle was forming on the sheets between your legs…. He knew this wasn’t normal. The wetness your pussy was experiencing was nothing human at this point, dripping far more than was normal for any biological person. It was clearly aching.

Sanji got to his knees at the base of the bed, fully taking his tie off now and undoing several buttons of his dress shirt. “Ok love, I’m going to fix all of this.”

He grabbed the backs of your knees and yanked your sweat covered body to the edge of the bed so that he was face to face with your hot, dripping sex. 

“Merde…”

Sanji knew this was his dream. Sure the All Blue was number one but this was the best thing he’s ever seen or smelled. He leans forward towards your bare pussy to deeply inhale your scent. You cover your face, embarrassed at his lewd, perverted actions.

“Sanji please…” you were whining and writhing, waiting for him to touch you. 

He firmly grabs your hip with one hand and holds you down while he spreads your lips with two fingers from the other hand. No longer able to resist your sopping cunt, he dives in immediately and latches onto your throbbing clit. 

You scream out underneath his touch, your skin so painfully sensitive that it feels a thousand times more pleasurable with his mouth. You moan loudly as he laps and sucks at your most sensitive area. With the affects of the fruit and the pleasure Sanji is giving to you, your brain short circuits. You instinctively fist his blonde locks and pull him deeper into your cunt. You needed release and you needed it now. 

Sanji was in Heaven, your sweet sounds and the taste of your rapturous pussy he could barely think straight. Things were going beyond well… especially for someone who has never done this before. Sanji has never touched a woman, let alone had sex. This was a show. He snuck some of Robin’s erotic novels months ago and tried to understand  how to please a woman should the opportunity arise. Sanji’s hands were shaking on your thighs, trying to make sure everything was perfect for you. He remembered reading that having fingers inside a woman feels good when done right. He inserts two fingers and crooks them upwards, pulling slightly while his lips were wrapped around your clit and you shouted out in pleasure.

“Sanji! Oh my god! That’s it, please! It’s perfect, right there! Don’t you dare stop, please!”

Hearing you simultaneously praise and beg him made his head swim. He never thought he’d be able to pleasure a woman like this. He ruts his crotch into the side of the bed as he slurps down all of your sinful juices, trying to suppress his own sexual desires. 

You felt the tension and in your belly start to reach its peak and you aggressively grabbed Sanji’s head.

“Im… cumming!” You shrieked as you released all over his face. You laid back and heaved and felt relieved.. but only for a moment… 

He pulled off of your cunt, goatee soaked in your release. He greedily licks his lips, smirk forming at the corners.  

“My love… it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my life… and as someone with a refined palate, I simply can’t say what an honor it’s been.” He tries to compose himself and put his tie back into place as he stands up from the bed. You grab his wrist. 

“Sanji… I need more… all of it… please…” 

He couldn’t believe that he was hearing. Was this it? He needed you almost as bad as you needed him at this point. 

“My darling… do you mean that?” He asks hesitantly

“Of course I do. It still hurts, Sanji. I can’t get rid of this unless I feel all of you inside of me… please…”

Sanji rips off his clothes at lightening speed, stumbling over his trousers in the process. Thick cock slapping his stomach as he pulls down his briefs. He climbs back onto the bed and hovers over you. Remembering the books he read, he grabs an extra pillow and shoves it under your ass, grabbing an experimental squeeze as he does it. You giggle.

“M-my love… I’ve… I’ve never done this before.”

You look up at him, shocked and bewildered. A virgin? Maybe it was because of the mysterious fruit’s effects, but this man had just given you the most earth shattering orgasm you’ve ever had. How can this really be his first time?

“Oh Sanji I’m sorry I just can’t help it, if you don’t want to-“ He cut you off with a sloppy, passionate kiss on your lips. It was messy, it was frantic, it was needy and so, so good. He pulls back panting and says to you, 

“I want to. My love, I want to more than you know, please let me help you.” 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and reached up to cup his face with one hand and pull him into a kiss. With your other hand you reached down and guided his throbbing, virgin cock into yourself. 

Sanji groans against your lips, you suck a breath in, finally feeling the fullness your body has been violently craving for what felt like an eternity. He leans back from your kiss, seemingly trying to catch his breath and compose himself. He knew it would be good, but the feeling was far more than he’d ever imagined. Your insides were so warm, so wet and open for him, fitting him inside you so perfectly like the last piece to a puzzle. He was broken out of his trance by a desperate whine from underneath him.

“Sanji… baby please… I need more, fuck me now please?” You bucked your hips upwards into him deeper, trying to fuck yourself on his cock desperately trying to fix the painful ache in your lower half. 

He pulled out of you slowly, still hesitant as to what to do, this being the first time he’s ever made love to a woman, let alone someone he felt so passionately about. He leans forward and fully pushes his sensitive cock back inside of you and you let out a high pitched whine. He repeats his actions as he finds a comfortable rhythm. 

“Oh Sanji thank you so much, thank you so much, it feels so good baby, just like that…” You punctuated his thrusts with explicit compliments and loud moans. Growing confident, he leans back and places his hands on the back of your thighs and pushes them up to your chest. He speeds up his hips and you feel his thick cock reach the perfect spot at this new angle. 

“Sanji! There!” You were screaming at this point. Sanji had half a mind to cover your mouth, knowing every other person on the Sunny could hear you calling out his name in pleasure… but the other half? The thought of everyone knowing that HE was the one giving you such intense pleasure that you can’t help but shriek his name throughout the ship? That was the half that was winning. 

You feel like you’re about to explode. It was right there, you could feel it. Tears begin streaming down your face as your love cook destroys your sloppy pussy with vigor. 

“My love you’re so close, I can barely pull myself out… Please cum for me? Mon amour, I need to see it again. I need to feel you cum on me, please? You’re so beautiful when you cum, you’re perfect, darling, please?” Sanji was shamelessly begging you to release on his cock. He desperately drilled his hips into you, pushing your further up into a pretzel. 

“Yes Sanji I’m right there, fuck baby I’m cumming, SHIT-“ you screamed. The orgasm ripped through your entire body, unlike you’ve ever felt. It was an almost painful, intense pleasure. Sanji continued to plow into you, so incredibly close to his own peak, trying to talk you through it but your ears were ringing. 

“So perfect baby, such a perfect, gorgeous pussy. My perfect little pussy, so good for me…I love you so mu- oh my darling, I’m going to cum, please let me fill you!”

Your brain short circuited, so broken by your orgasm, body almost numb. “Yes of course, I want all of it Sanji please! I want your cum inside of me.”

And with that, he did. He moaned your name loudly as he slumps forward meeting your forehead with his. He lets your legs fall comfortably, but stays on top and inside of you. Nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of waves hitting the side of the ship could be heard. After a few minutes he pulls back and he looks into your eyes, seeing the relief, that you’re finally rid of your pain, he smiles. You smile back. You both start laughing. 

“Sanji, thank you.” You finally breath out after catching the giggles, not even believing what just happened. 

“It truly was my pleasure, darling. Just… just promise me you won’t do anything that stupid again?”

“After how incredible that was? I can make absolutely no promises.” You laugh. “Hey remember when you said you loved me?”

Sanji buried his face in your neck with a groan, clearly embarrassed and hiding his shame. It wasn’t a lie, he just knew you didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t know what to say, he wanted to throw himself into the ocean outside the window just to get away from confronting this. He pulled out of the crook of your neck to look at your face. 

“Y/n I-“

“Shhh…” you press your finger to his kiss-bitten lips. “Stay here tonight. We can talk tomorrow.” You assure him while stroking his cheek. Sanji sighs in relief, kissing you gently and laying his head on the pillow next to yours. With nothing left to say you both drift off to sleep, limbs tangled together on your mattress. You can talk about this in the morning.

xx

#one piece smut #one piece #one piece netflix #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #one piece fandom #one piece fanart #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji smut #one piece anime #one piece manga

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.

For Horrorfest request:

Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?

Word count: 1156

notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans

“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 

The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 

Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.

But you stay where you are.

Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 

“He’s perfect.” 

--

The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 

“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 

You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 

“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 

“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”

It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 

But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 

The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.

--

Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 

Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 

But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.

It’s the puppet. 

Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 

“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.

“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.

You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.

This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 

“Why?”

Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.

“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”

There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 

“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 

“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”

“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.

It’s then that you notice the strings.

Not on the puppet--but on you. 

The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 

He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.

”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 

He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 

Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 

The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 

#yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin impact #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #scaramouche with abandonment issues but in puppet form! dun dun dun

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

[jenscx]

MY DARLING — jang wonyoung x f!reader

you were just living a quaint life in a bookstore, until a stranger barges in on a rainy day, evidently changing your life.

TAGS — very fluffy, princess!wonyoung, slight angst, jealousy (tiny), commoner!yn, flirty wony

WORDCOUNT — 3.9k

the 10th of august, 1820. you sigh at the raindrops splashing against the glass windows, tinted with a slight hue of blue. the bookstore was rarely this quiet but with everything going on in the royal castle, perhaps it was to be expected.

“no customers yet?” you whip your head up, frowning. eunbi, the owner of the bookstore and the one who had raised you, stood at the top of the flight of creaky, wooden stairs. you shake your head, “aren’t the nobles trying to popularise reading? i don’t think it is working too well.”

eunbi laughs. “sure. the literature we sell here isn’t too demanding of their literary skills. and the nobles only flock to poetry, maybe it’s time we expanded our small library.”

your eyes brighten at the thought of an increased variety of books. even though you adored the selection here, it was starting to get quite boring. the constant romance themes evident in every single book was rather… annoying.

“hm, perhaps we should close up for the day, it’s rather late and the rain is heavy. i don’t think anyone else will bear with the storm just for a quick read,” eunbi suggests and you comply immediately, packing up the stacks of papers standing tall at the counter. you were just scribbling on them to rid your boredom.

“i’ll be upstairs if you need me,” she calls out before heading up once more. you sigh again. just as you were about to close the curtains shut, the door slams open and you almost squeal.

a mysterious hooded figure stands before you, heaving up and down as quick breathes escape them.

“uhm, apologies but we are closing for the day,” you say. the figure turns and you roll your eyes. their cloak was dripping rainwater all over the mahogany wood floors that you had just polished that morning!

“terribly sorry for the intrusion,” they (you raise an eyebrow at the feminine voice) mumble, “i needed a place to get away.”

“right, i don’t really care because you are ruining my flooring, so could you take that damn cloak off?”

the person immediately does so, revealing the white fitted bodice that clung to the woman’s skin, almost translucent and you feel a blush creeping up your neck.

“you are… soaked.”

“yes, quite obviously.”

you turn away from her, eyes avoiding her own narrowing gaze as she was quite literally the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

“i’ll get you a cloth to clean yourself up with,” you mutter while the girl nods and proceeds to walk along the shelves.

if you weren’t so distracted by her apparent beauty, you would be more conscious of how familiar she looked.

moments later, you return with a cloth, and the stranger was peering at one of the many books that lined the shelves.

“fan of jane austen?” you smile when she jumps slightly at your sudden voice, “that is one of her most popular pieces of literature; pride and prejudice from 1813. though we do have earlier pieces such as ann radcliffe’s the romance of the forest, 1791.”

the woman nods, “aren’t you quite acquainted with books? any suggestions?”

“hm, perhaps persuasion by jane austen if you’re a fan, but do read most of her writings, it’s incredible.”

“what about playwrights? anyone that you’ve taken a liking to?” she asks.

you think for a while, “elizabeth inchbald. i thought lovers’ vows was spectacular. shame i couldn’t see it, sometimes i wished i was born earlier.”

“i always thought that it was too controversial and morally ambiguous for people to adore it. thankfully i’ve found someone of my own,” she says, a twinkle in her eye that you can’t help but feel your heartbeat race at. she daps at her neck with the cloth and you evert your eyes.

“a-anyway, what brings you here? you’ve distracted me from closing up.”

she places the book back into its original position and furrows her brows, “do you not recognise who i am?”

you tilt your head and lean on the bookshelves, “no, not particularly. am i meant to?”

“yes, but i’d rather you stay unknowing. if we were to be… friends, could i ask that you never try to find my identity?”

“could i at least know your name? or something to call you?”

“of course, i haven’t introduced myself. you can call me wonyoung.” wonyoung, you think, it’s a pretty name.

she flashes a gleaming smile at you, “could i know yours?”

“y/n,” you reply, “what brings you here?”

wonyoung’s posture slackens and you take the time to admire her luscious black hair that was tied into a bun with small curls and waves. you unconsciously swallow your saliva as wonyoung answers you.

“just running from my responsibilities. quite lucky of me to end up in a quaint bookstore with you, to be frank.”

your eyes trail down from her face to her collarbones, mouth going dry at the sight of her neck. god, you think, clenching your eyes shut.

“you all right? your cheeks are… flushed,” you spot a hint of a teasing smile on her face.

“how old are you?” wonyoung asks suddenly.

“i’m eighteen this year.”

“oh, i’m eighteen as well.”

you grin, “what responsibilities could you have at eighteen? we’re the same age, yet i’m just working at a bookstore.”

wonyoung shakes her head, almost sullen, “you have no clue how hectic it is back there. if here is shallow water, when i go back there, i’ll drown in the tsunami.”

“how poetic.”

“impressive, isn’t it?”

you giggle first and wonyoung’s laughter joins soon after. her laugh is melodic and soothing, a breather. it’s like you’ve just found your oasis.

and maybe she’s found hers.

your night is spent alone. no wonyoung to fill the empty spaces of silence apart from the occasional footsteps outside of the bookstore. you spent all day with her, or rather the rest of the day until she deemed too late to reach home. no matter how hard you try, your mind ends up wandering and you dream of rosy cheeks with a bunny smile.

you awake the next morning with a letter at your doorstep, addressed in neat calligraphy.

dear y/n,

i could not tell you how much i enjoyed yesterday, it was an eye-opening experience. i am definitely the luckiest person ever. i can’t believe how lucky i was to enter your bookstore and meet you. i hope we stay acquainted forever. send your reply to this address, i will wait for it.

sincerely yours,

wonyoung

if it were from anyone else, you would have found it desperate, or creepy. but even after a day of meeting wonyoung, you were enchanted.

hence, you quickly draft up a letter, perhaps she could see how much desperation there was in the messily scrawled handwriting for you to see her again.

it took almost no time for you and her to communicate daily through letters. even though you only met her three weeks ago, it felt like you’ve known her forever. wonyoung was your everything. and maybe you were her everything too. she was the part of your routine you looked most forward to.

eunbi had questioned you about your sudden enthusiasm and happiness. after all, she had been your caregiver since she had taken you in and you were never this dreamy.

wonyoung would sometimes drop by during the evening and you would spend a few hours together before she had to leave. it was the highlight of your week. a few hours would be all you could have, until a letter arrives at your doorstep.

my darling y/n,

how have you been? i found that book you’ve been raving about. i must extend my apologies for reading it beforehand, you were just too excited about it that i had to read it for myself. anyway, would your bed be free tonight? could i spend the night at your bookstore? my parents finally gave me permission to do so. i do hope you’re free, if not i’ll be missing you terribly.

sincerely yours,

wonyoung

you almost crumple up the letter in excitement. wonyoung was finally sleeping over? it was a joyous celebration. you swiftly write back, hoping that the letter would reach her in time. it always did, surprisingly. you weren’t sure if the post was meant to work that fast. you were counting down the seconds for when she would arrive and when the grandfather clock struck six thirty in the evening, a knock resounded on the door.

“wonyoung!” you squeal, rushing into her arms and burying your face into the crook of her neck. physical touch had become common between you and her, initiated by her at first but mostly done by you now. you could not resist feeling the warmth her body gave off.

“good evening, yn,” she breathes out, “i almost tripped on the way here. i was so exhilarated when i received your letter.”

you grin, quickly locking up the doors and closing the curtains. wonyoung lingers around you, a bag of clothes at her feet, you presume it contained her sleepwear.

“darling,” you feel a shiver go down your spine at her voice, “shall we head up?”

you nod and interlock hands with wonyoung, dragging her up the stairs and heading into your bedroom. your bed wasn’t tiny, but with wonyoung’s height, her feet would be dangling off the edge since your mattress was wider and not lengthy.

“you can change here, i’ll just look away,” you say.

“what if i want you to look?”

your cheeks heat up and you cover your eyes, “shut up, you flirt.”

“my sincerest apologies,” wonyoung says slowly, “do you not like it when i flirt with you?” you roll your eyes. she would always ask questions which she knew the answers to. wonyoung just wanted the satisfaction of you saying it out loud.

“i like it,” you mutter, embarrassed.

“you’re adorable,” she laughs and starts to untie the laces on her corset to reveal her shift under. you take this as your cue to turn away.

a few minutes pass and wonyoung finally says, “i’m done. you can turn around now.”

she was adorned in a long light blue night rail with lace linings. you still thought she was the prettiest girl to ever walk the earth.

wonyoung flops onto your bed and you join her.

“blow out the candle, won't you?” wonyoung requests. without the light of the candle, you can only see her face that is illuminated by the moonlight.

you both slip under the sheets, facing each other. your eyes trail along her features and your fingers ache to trace them.

“how was your day? you never answered me in your reply.”

“you were genuinely asking? i thought you asked as a formality,” you chuckle at her affronted expression.

she rolls her eyes, “of course i was genuine! i’m always interested in what you have to say.”

“why are you being so cheeky today? so many flirtatious remarks,” her long arms wrap around your waist and you giggle.

“i’m just naturally like that,” wonyoung smiles, “and you like it, don’t you?”

you nod shyly.

“i do.”

“then i’ll stay this way. be whatever that you like.”

“i like you,” you confess.

wonyoung blinks slowly. your words and sincere tone seeping into her heart as a large grin overtakes her face.

“and i adore you.”

your night, unlike the first, was spent wrapped up in wonyoung’s embrace. warmth covering your body and a smile across your face the entire time you slept. it was the most peaceful night you’ve had. yet, as all things go, it was just the calm before the storm.

something had been bothering you, wonyoung could tell. after that night spent together, you and her were inseparable. but the more time you had together, the more it seemed like you were drifting away in your thoughts.

“darling?” you turn around in her embrace, “are you all right?”

“yes, i’m totally fine. couldn’t be better than being here with you.”

“i feel the same but, are you certain? it just feels like something is bothering you. if anything, could you tell me?” wonyoung asks. your body visibly tenses up and even in the dark, she could still see how your face was contemplating.

“why did you ask me to never search for your identity?”

wonyoung suddenly unwraps her arms from around your waist. you miss her warmth instantly.

“why are you bringing this up now?” she counter asks.

you frown. “just remembered it. i was reminiscing the first time we met.”

“ah.”

“also because eunbi has been asking me about you and i don’t know what to tell her. i realised i don’t know much about you and i want to change that,” you explain.

wonyoung’s breath hitches.

“eunbi? have you mentioned my name to her?”

“no, i wasn’t too sure if i should have… wonyoung, seriously, what’s this whole ordeal with your identity? can’t you just tell me?” you ask.

you decide not to mention the fact that you have actually questioned eunbi about wonyoung. the amount of warning signs about her identity had been increasing daily and you weren’t so certain about how much you could trust wonyoung anymore.

“you’re lying,” wonyoung states.

“what?”

“you know my identity.”

“wonyoung, love—”

she separates herself from you immediately and sits upright. your bubble of tranquillity bursts and the peaceful future you’ve created for the two of you was ruined.

“i told you. i specifically told you not to go looking!” her voice raises, “and you still do? and i know you’re lying to my face! you know that…”

you can’t stand it anymore. “that you’re the princess? of course i do! how could i not remember your face and name plastered everywhere? are you not aware of how influential you are? the media has been going insane at how your birthday ball was going to be the highlight of this century! but this doesn’t mean i love you less!”

“it’s not about that! you betrayed my trust. how could you? it was the first thing i’ve ever told you; don’t go looking for my identity! and i… this isn’t going to work out. i apologise, but i have to leave,” wonyoung hisses and quickly jumps out of your bed. you can only stare in silence as she packs up her clothes and leaves out the door.

you sit there on your cotton sheets, stunned at how the evening’s played out. a sigh escapes your lips and your heart aches at the forlorn expression that wonyoung had.

you couldn’t believe that wonyoung had just left like that. you thought she would at least hear you out and it wasn’t as if you yourself had gone looking for her identity! her name was basically on every single piece of news article, how could you not know? and wonyoung wasn’t a popular name.

perhaps everything will be normal in the morning. wonyoung’s letter would show up at your doorstep, apologising for how she acted and you would still forgive her.

needless to say, you were wrong. there was no letter, and definitely no bouquet of tulips that normally accompanied the letter.

“i saw the princess stomping out, did you two have a fall out?” eunbi asks. you nod, sulking.

“she found out that i knew she was the princess and she wasn’t too enthusiastic about it.”

eunbi thinks for a moment. “aren’t you going to try to chase after her? wouldn’t it be right?”

“why should i? she said we weren’t going to work out.” repeating those words brought a new level of pain.

your caregiver laughs, “that’s exactly what sakura said as well and she ended up grovelling.”

you raise an eyebrow. “who’s sakura?”

“some foreign lady. anyway, are you going to write to her or not? her birthday’s coming up soon.”

“her birthday,” you repeat, “i could just go to her birthday banquet.” eunbi blinks, “i did not mean that but sure.”

you have a newfound sense of confidence. wonyoung couldn’t do anything if you just went to her banquet, right? well, she could just order for the guards to take you out but it was open to commoners. there was a dress code but wonyoung had gifted you a pretty expensive dress recently.

“august 30th, it starts at eleven in the evening,” eunbi informs you, “you do know your way to the castle? i have other plans that night.”

“yes, of course. thank you for the idea!” you smile. as you head off back into your room, thoughts of seeing wonyoung again run through your mind.

the day had finally come. your hair was parted in the middle with your bangs curled that occasionally twitched your eyes. your bust was pushed up ever so slightly by a tight fitting corset. you had a low cut violet gown and white gloves that extended up to your elbows.

the closer you got to the palace, the more your confidence dwindled. what if wonyoung orders for the guards to escort you out? it would be ironic for you to show up at her banquet, where she would have to reveal her identity. you shiver at the thought of wonyoung’s distrustful gaze.

what happened to staying together until death parts you two? wonyoung had been so romantic with her words, maybe it was all faux.

you shake your head. you couldn’t think of that! now, you just had to reassure her that her identity revelation would not change anything. and maybe you could even try to revert to the same relationship status as before. once you enter the ballroom, you’re surrounded by nobles and commoners alike, all dressed to the nines. you scan the room, hoping to see wonyoung.

“goodness,” one of the more fashionably dressed nobles say, “dukes from high society are starting to court her already. i heard that many are offering their whole family wealth for her hand.”

your face falls. of course there would be people wanting to court her. wonyoung was so angelic and there would be no reason for rich dukes to not throw themselves at her.

“good evening, my lady,” you spin around, facing an older woman with a rather disgruntled young man, “could i ask where you are from?” luckily, eunbi had trained you beforehand.

“miyawaki y/n,” you lie through your teeth, “i’m not from around here, just passing through to visit the princess.”

“splendid! i am from the house of lee and this is my son, heeseung,” the woman exclaims, “i thought you were a perfect match for him.”

your eye twitches.

“ah, yes.”

“i’ll leave you two to get acquainted, hopefully by the end of this ball, you will be dancing with each other.”

“my lady will not be dancing with anyone,” your heart leaps. an arm links around yours and you almost instinctively lean into the familiar warmth.

the woman stands rooted to the ground while heeseung quickly scurries off.

“m-my sincerest apologies! i did not know,” she bows. wonyoung waves a hand at her and turns to look at you instead.

before the crowd starts to gather around you, wonyoung turns her head and swiftly drags you by the wrist through the many nobles.

“wony— princess!” you shriek.

she pulls you into an empty room, away from peering eyes and eavesdroppers. her gaze on you is heavy with emotion and you can barely get a chance to identify them before she speaks.

“what on earth compelled you to come here?”

“i just wanted to see you. you ran off rather quickly last night, much like that heeseung boy.”

“y/n, you can’t just show up here looking like that. i… i told you once you found out who i really was, we could never truly be together,” wonyoung sighs.

you frown, “so you weren’t going to try anyway? were you just going to love me when it was convenient? what happened to all those sweet promises you’ve made to me?”

“i can’t keep those promises if the public found out we were together,” wonyoung clasps your hands together.

“so you were just loving me for the hell of it.”

“i sacrificed lots for you.”

“but you still can’t be with me.” you take wonyoung’s silence as her answer. there’s tears welling up in your eyes and wonyoung’s gaze darts to them instantly.

you tear your hands away from hers to wipe your tears falling down your cheeks.

“this has been… eye-opening. since we were never going to work out anyway, i should take my leave. sorry for taking up your time when you should have been spending it celebrating. happy birthday.”

your heart aches. the beats slow down but you feel like it’s been crushed into little bits, which were then thrown into molten lava and rebuilt. then crushed again by wonyoung.

“wait a moment, don’t…”

“i should have know it would have ended up like this. i’m deeply sorry again, your highness,” you say coldly, bowing.

wonyoung’s mouth is open, almost like she wants to say something. but you can’t be with someone who contradicts herself every time.

“darling,” the nickname slips out and you feel sobs wreck your body, “don’t cry, wait, please.”

“my love, please look at me, please don’t walk away, i was a fool. i wasn’t thinking at all,” wonyoung rambles out, “please stay and listen, which is ironic, i realise but i can’t believe i thought i could ever live life without you. i need you. i was just scared of what they would say, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore. i realised that you’re my only light and i will never find someone better than you. it was all my doing, i never meant to hurt you like this. i’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

wonyoung stares at you, affection and longing in her eyes. so that’s what it was.

“i’m not forgiving you just yet. you still hurt my feelings.”

“of course. i’ll grovel for eternity for your forgiveness.”

you sniffle and slap her cheek lightly, not enough to even hurt.

“i hate that you can make me feel like this.”

“like what?” she asks, looking down at you.

“like everything’s okay.”

“is everything not okay?”

a smile overtakes your face, tears still dripping down your cheeks but you feel contrary.

“don’t ever do that again,” you fling your arms over her shoulders and instinctively, her hands go around your waist.

“i adore you, and if i were to ever hurt you intentionally, please just execute me on the spot,” she whispers into your ear, making you giggle.

“executing the princess is illegal, i would be given the death sentence as well.”

“then we would be together in the afterlife at least.”

“you are such a dork.”

“only yours.”

(to my darling y/n,

i hope everything’s all right back at the bookstore. could i drop by sometime later? maybe we could even read belinda by maria edgeworth. i’ve heard it is quite a worthy read. your wedding gown is gorgeous, for your information, i reckon i’ll sob at the alter. as always, do tell me about your day later. i will be counting down the minutes until i can see your beautiful face. i love you.

forever yours,

wonyoung

to my princess,

of course you can drop by. i’m expecting more books to arrive later in the afternoon. unfortunately for you, i’ve already read belinda but i will reread it with you if you want. i hope you’re doing well back at the castle; how’s the wedding preparations going? tell me all about it later. i’ll be counting down the minutes as well. i love you too.

your darling,

y/n)

#jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #ive

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #hslot #love on tour #i just love finalshowrry #love u too #hopefully part four doesn’t take me also two weeks to write HAHA

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess.

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Azriel was seething, he felt like he could kill Rhysand for how he played him. How could he do this to him? He despised you, he hated you. He hated the fact that you never got to see the slaughter that happened in the war, he hated that you never had to get your hands dirty with someone’s blood. He hated that you were raised in a warm house with loving parents, that you would have dinner every night with your parents -the table filled with love and care. He didn’t know why he felt like that, he knew he should be glad that someone else didn’t go through what him and his family did, he should feel happy that a beautiful and sweet female like you wasn’t defiled by the horrors of this world. He could see how delicate you were, you reminded him of a rare and unique flower and even though he loved that, he felt the urge to rip this flower from the ground and destroy it. Was he a monster? He wondered. He was sure raised like one, but did they manage to turn him into one too?

Lost in these thoughts he reached the roof, he removed his shirt and didn’t even bother to wrap his hands as he approached the training dummy. He kept punching and kicking, hatred was pouring out of him like a wave, smashing into everything that stood on its way and drowning anyone who didn’t run away.

The dummy snapped in half and fell on the ground. Only then he stopped and stared, his breathing plummeting and tears escaping his eyes.

Was he so broken that he could hate a soft creature just because she was raised better than him?

“Ouch” Cassian cringed as he walked out “what did it do to you?”

“Fuck off” Azriel growled making Cassian chuckle.

“Do you want a real opponent?” The warlord asked and amusement filled his eyes, it had been a while since he had a good fight.

Azriel pounced on him and so they began.

Cassian had never seen him acting like that before, the shadowsinger was mad, his eyes wide and red, his hair a mess, his shadows frantically flowing around and the two siphons he had on each arm cracking from the power. Azriel had Cassian on the ground in less than five minutes.

“I hate her” -punch.

“I fucking hate her” -punch

“I fucking hate me.” -he didn’t punch this time, he just stared wide-eyed, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with every breath.

Cassian was speechless, he just stared at his brother with a worried and confused look.

“How on earth can I be mated with someone so weak and naive”

Cassian choked on air “she is your mate?”

“Yeah I felt the bond snap the moment she walked in…” Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?” The warlord stood up and stretched.

“I don’t think so, and I don’t care” he shrugged.

“But…why? I mean she seems like a sweet and caring female she could make you happy” Cassian was really confused, his brother needed love and affection so why was he denying his chance to get them.

“How can I be with someone like her? She will never be able to understand me and what I’ve been through. She is trained to wed a high fae not an Illyrian bastard. I will corrupt her, I will defile her.” Azriel couldn’t breathe as he realised what he said. Everything was entirely true.

“Az, please don’t think like that, you deserve to be happy. She deserves to be happy too and you can make her happy…” Cassian spoke with a sad look.

“No I can’t. Don’t speak about this again.” Azriel said and picked his shirt up, ready to leave.

“What are you planning to do?” His brother asked him.

“Make her hate me.” He responded and left.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You stayed in your room, when Mor came to ask you if you wanted to go out you told her that you couldn’t because you had to wait for Azriel to get you. She didn’t say anything and left with a curious look.

You didn’t know if Azriel was going to come, maybe he would avoid you and tell Rhysand that he showed you everything and you didn’t need to hang out together anymore.

Your hope didn’t last long as Azriel strolled in your room, his face was cold. He scanned your room and hummed. “Such a cute room for the princess” he scoffed.

“I didn’t choose it.” You whispered.

“Did I give you permission to talk?” He growled and you shook your head, you opened your mouth to say sorry but closed it again when he glared.

“Get dressed we are going out. I expect you to be at the balcony in five minutes” and with that he was gone.

You took a shaky breath and got up. You didn’t know what to wear, if you wore a dress he would scoff and be like “of course the princess is wearing a dress” so you picked a pair of pants and a shirt that looked way too big for you -At least this will cover my silhouette. You thought and got dressed. You felt kinda guilty for wearing pants, your mother would be so disappointed. But you needed to forget all the training you had and finally get a hold of your life. You needed to gain control of yourself in order to survive.

The pants were tight but the shirt reached your knees so you felt comfortable, with one last look on your reflection you hurried off not wanting to piss him more by being late.

The moment you walked out to the balcony and he saw you his eyes widened and his face became red. He looked feral.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He growled.

You stared at him waiting for permission to speak, he noticed. “Speak”

“I found those in my closet” you whispered.

“Why would my shirt be in your closet?”

You gaped at him, this shirt belonged to him? And then it hit you, the smell seemed so familiar when you wore the shirt… it was his smell. Stupid, how did you not notice this. You reprimanded yourself.

“I can go back and change” you offered and he just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have all day, and I don’t care, you already ruined it. Keep it” he made a look of disgust and flared his wings.

“Let’s go” he said and opened his arms.

Your jaw dropped. You would fly to the city? Couldn’t he winnow you there? What if he dropped you? This would solve his problem.

He noticed your hesitation and huffed.

“I won’t drop you come on my patience is running low don’t make me grab you”

And with that you moved closer to him and let him gather you in his arm. His smell was so toxic yet addictive and you had to use way too much power to keep yourself from leaning further into him.

He glanced at you and took off. You didn’t scream, you didn’t feel fear. You kept staring at the city so mesmerised by the view. You felt free and a smile appeared on your face.

Azriel noticed this and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“No, I like the feeling” you whispered, you weren’t sure if he heard you over the wind. The corners of his mouth twitched, a smile was trying to emerge but he quickly covered it with a frown. He looked at you, mischief flashing in his eyes and he dived. You were descending so fast that you could feel your intestines rearranging themselves but you didn’t scream, you didn’t know why but at that moment you trusted him. Even though he despised you… you trusted that he wouldn’t drop you and… you laughed. The ground was getting closer and you were laughing. You felt like you had gone mad. Azriel was probably thinking the same because his jaw dropped and confusion filled his features.

He manoeuvred both of you to the sky again and he stopped. You were floating over the city . You glanced at him and he was staring at your face.

“You really aren’t scared” he noted.

You nodded and he shook his head, the cold expression coming back as he landed. He dropped you and started walking. You grunted as your back made contact with the ground and your eyes filled with tears, you weren’t hurt just embarrassed as everyone stared at you.

“Come on I don’t have all day”

Requests are open!

My laptop has left the chat and probably this life so I’m posting this from my phone. So please excuse any mistakes I might not have noticed. Getting a new laptop on Monday 🥲

Also if anyone wants to be tagged on this series please comment so I can make a tag list on my phone.

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #shadowsinger x reader #rhysand #feyre archeron #amren acotar #elain acotar #acotar fic #nesta acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhys acotar #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #acofas #cassian acotar #cassian

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ TWO HALVES OF ONE HEART.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PART 02 OF HEART AND MIND! READ PART 01 HERE.

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

WORD COUNT ⠆3,756 (well spent!)

ON ROTATION ⠆cheek to cheek by frank sinatra, head over heels by tears for fears, my heart it beats for you by grent perez, how deep is your love by bee gees.

CATEGORIES ⠆very fluffy!!! a long awaited lovers reunion!!!! the boys on crew being the biggest supporters as always, joyce being lovely, very comforting. loved how it came out... though i feel like it kinda dragged but i digress.

𝟒𝟏𝟏. a much needed reunion between two lovers.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen lake washington look so alive, there were swarms of crowds surrounding the lake. the day was sunny and bright with a slight wind whistling through the air.

full of supporters and spectators from both cal and washington alone. your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed followed your parents through the crowd but ultimately separating from them as you made your way to the viewing deck. the thought of seeing don again— being in his presence again made you so excited yet so nervous. you were elated he made the JV rowing team, knowing how effortlessly he knew how to do things; basically being good at anything. you had a fairly good spot over looking the water; not realizing it’s a student only viewing deck (did those even exist..). you looked for a spot not to close to the front in case don ends up seeing you, you didn’t want to throw him off from their first race of the season. as you were getting settled in your spot you accidentally bump into someone.

“oh! i am so sorry!” you apologize, pushing your hair away from crowding your face as you watch the girl in front of you stumble a bit.

“no! no it’s totally okay.” a blonde with short hair instantly assures, noticing as her eyes scanning over you.“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around school before.” she adds, you found it bit odd she would say such a thing.

“ i don’t actually go here.” you affirmed, clearing your throat a bit. still confused on her sudden interrogation, she nods. taking in the newfound information before continuing.

“where do you attend?” you hesitate, suddenly noticing how everyone on the deck had UW flags and you didn’t have that, instead a berkeley flag that someone had given you after recognizing you from school. if she had seen the flag tucked behind you it would’ve given you away immediately.

“cal.” a slight cough out of the school name; there was no way in lying to her, suddenly feeling small amongst the groups of UW students. the short haired girl piques at your response “cal as in cal state berkeley— the rowing team the boys are going against?” you nod for her in clarification “how come you’re rooting for the opposite team?” fully facing you now. before you can tell her your reason she interrupts saying how rude it was for her to bombard you without asking your name, you weren’t offend at all and introduced yourself instantly as she does the same immediately after.

“my boyfriend is on the team actually.” you felt awkward telling her but also relieved, you don’t remember the last time you outright told anyone you had a boyfriend. ”oh really! who?” it crosses in joyce’s mind that it could be joe but she knows joe would never keep something like this from her and there was a massively rare chance it would be him so her mind briefs through the rest of the roaster. though she only knew their faces and not their names.

“don, don hume. you know him?” joyce ponders for a bit, the name sounding very familiar.

“i think joe mentioned him before…” you assume ‘joe’ is on the rowing team with don, further assuming she was here to root for joe but would’t say that of course… insisting she’s here rooting for everyone, not just joe.

“its okay, he’s not much of a talker anyways.” laughing it off, don wasn’t someone to put himself in the lime light, finding comfort alone or with you. a part of you hoping he’s getting along well with his teammates as he isnt the easiest to get along with because of how reserved he could be… you just want him to be happy.

“does he know you’re here?” you shake your head in response but mention to her that you sent him a letter recently entailing that you were coming over to visit but it was safe to assume he hadn;t gotten it since he hadn’t called (knowing he only calls when he needs to respond immediately). an idea suddenly sparks in your new friends mind. she tells you there is supposed to be a party if the huskies win and she insists you surprise him then, it was such a spur of the moment proposition you accepted. she squeals excitedly, grasping your arm. she was so happy to meet someone new who wasn’t from washington, excited to make your acquaintance as she stays close to you, cheering on the boys.

the race was nothing short of a spectacle, no one was sure that the huskies would win but they had defied odds and won with an astounding outcome. you see dons face as their boat pushes to the finish line, time seems to slow when your eyes land on him. his hair is shorter and face slimmer from the last time you saw him, your heart swells seeing him so happy from winning, splashing the water and celebrating with the rest of the team. you don’t think you’ve seen anything more attractive, his muscles taught and defined in that fitting uniform he wore. a faint blush creeps up you neck as you watch his muscles flex under the sunlight, you couldn’t wait to be with him again, talk to him, be in his arms again. you eyes don’t leave him until joyce drags you away from the your spot, immediately talking your ear off about how well they did on the way to her dorm. don lingering in your mind the whole way.

the hall was loud and in high spirits after the win of the JV rowing team, don watches as george walks off hand and hand with a pretty brunette. sitting alone as the other guys sit in the paired tables in front of him, having their own conversations. don didn’t mind to be alone or away from the group; it would probably be expected of him to go off and talk to others but he really isn’t much of a talker and preferred to observe the scenes in front of him. he didn’t need to be apart of the fun to have fun- he was content knowing the guys were having a good time. it did get lonely at times though the guys kept him company and included him in conversation for a part but his mind kept lingering at the thought of you; being here with him— having fun of your own if you were here. he’s been thinking about you more lately, missing you more than he usually did. it was rough the first few months but he eventually got used to the fact that you weren’t around anymore and he had to carry on with his own life. its not to say he didn’t think of you at all; you were the muse of his dreams and he’d think about how you were sometimes and at times where he’s out, he’d something that reminds him of you. most of all, the jewelry you gifted him. he’d fidget with his ring and he’d think of you. ever since the night he told roger and bobby about you it feels like he’s back a year ago when you freshly left for california feeling incomplete without you, unbeknownst to when you’d retuen, wondering if you got his letter or if you wrote back to him.

your heart pounds in your chest as you walk with joyce towards the hall, her arm laced with yours. your heart races, full of emotion. memories of when you last saw don flooding your mind, you couldn’t wait to see him. you were nervous he wasn’t going to recognize you, it had been a year since you saw him and you weren’t sure if you look the same you did when you left, what if he didn’t feel the same way anymore after seeing you? what if he regrets waiting for you after a year of being apart? what if— as if she could sense your overwhelming nerves, joyce immediately assures you— insisting that don is gonna be elated to see you, especially after a big win. what worried you was the fact that you had sent him a letter, unveiling your news that you were coming up to washington. you were unsure if he’s received it yet and it drags your heart at the thought of him reading the letter and not caring; content with having a life of his own away from you. he would he awaiting your arrival wouldn’t he? looking for you. but there was no news up the grapevine about him from the passing hours as you got ready in joyce’s dorm but if you didn’t find out for yourself you’d never know. you can hear the music grow louder as you get closer, excitement bubbles as joyce squeals skipping towards the hall with you in tow, already feeling the warmth from the hall.

at the doorway is a tall blonde with his eyes fixed on your short haired friend, you look at her and see a faint flush on her cheeks. unlocking your arms she walks a few steps ahead greeting the man with a hug. standing a bit awkwardly before them as they speak, a mere moment later she turns around gesturing you over. from there you meet joe, the man she mentioned earlier during your first interaction. she introduces you fondly as a new friend, locking arms as she leans against you. she continues to tell joe how you’re visiting from california and she’s love to introduce you to the boys. joe has a hesitant look on his face, as much as he wasn’t opposed to the idea, he knew the boys would eat up a pretty face like yours without the slightest bit of hesitation. he wasn’t convinced from her persuasion but the look she gives him? how could he say no to her? heaving a small sigh, the blonde nods. further exchanging pleasantries as he tries to get to know you a bit better before gesturing for the two of you to walk inside, him following behind. you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you walk into the bustling room, eyes instinctively scanning for don. your heart skips a beat when you finally spot him, sitting alone at a table. he looks even more handsome than you remember, you’ve never seen him in a suit before and he looks better than you could ever imagine. breath catching in your throat as you realize this is actually happening, the man you've missed so dearly, the one you've been yearning for since you moved to california. you’re so close to being in his arms again, in his presence again. before you can take in more of the lively atmosphere, joyce is dragging you to the refreshment table. you weren’t sure what she had in mind, she hadn’t told you anything beforehand and you were dying to know. she guiltily admits to you how unsure she is about her plan, though there wasn’t much to it in the first place. you immediately reassure her that whatever happens, you appreciate her effort, without her your surprise reunion with your lover could have gone completely differently.

don doesn’t know why or how but he feels as if you’re here, somewhere (his spidey senses are tingling) especially when joe had them gathered so closely, being sandwiched between roger and bobby as they all ask whats going on. joe casually relays that joyce had someone she wanted to introduce to them, making the advanced effort to note that the person is a girl. the group suddenly becomes boisterous and are quick to fix their suits and appearances. don has half the mind to entertain the thought the the person is you, though he thinks you would come straight to him if that were the case, so he makes himself comfortable sat down with his hands in his pockets awaiting their new guest- ready to watch what’s to come.

your heart flutters with nerves, as joyce tries are best to calm you down. there was only so much she could stall and soon joe approaches the two of you stating how impatient and restless the guys were, your mind is in a frenzy now trying to imagine how seeing him again will be, what you’ll say, how he’ll react. it overwhelmed you so, wringing hands and deep breaths as you gather yourself. it was now or never.

you pass through the throng of people, the atmosphere is charged with an electric energy, a complete contrast of the feelings that consumed you as joyce holds your hand comfortingly through the crows. joe walks ahead, gathering the boys as you approach them. trying your best to hide behind the small frame of joyce. for a moment don thinks he’s right, eyeing the girl standing behind joe’s girlfriend, as the boys stand ready to impressed. he also thinks he’s become delusional drowning in the thought of you— he can’t see the person well but with her frame peaking from joyce it makes him think its you, he tries to deny the thought in his head— trying to not physical head palm himself at such a stretch.

clearing her throat, joyce speaks “i made a friend from california and i just wanted to introduce her to the team that beat hers.” a small wave in her voice, seeingas don snaps his attention to her as she silently hopes she does this right. her words cause an immediate stir in the boys, ready to impress with their chests puffed. roger and bobby immediately share a look before looking down at their friend who’s now sat upright and at attention.

it can’t be…

you feel your hands tremor and a slight ring in your ears as your friend speaks but you can’t help the surge of adrenaline that runs through you knowing at any moment you will be face to face with your lover.

you feel a tug on your hand and soon enough you’re faced in front of your boyfriend among a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“this is y/n.”

before any of the boys can approach you, the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floor causes a pause through the group. turning their attention they see don stood up, eyes wide. all at once it feels as if time begins to slow, you’re stood before him looking beautiful as ever, like an angel sent from heaven. he feels like he’s dreaming— as if at any given moment he’ll be woken up from a painfully realistic dream. it isn’t until he feels a pat on his back, he breaks his gaze. looking over at roger who whispers a ‘lucky man’ with a giddy smile on his face. bobby and roger pass you last, having a small conversation with you telling you how you have a good eye for jewelry and realization on that you’re actually real, the locket on your neck further proving that. the group moves else where but close enough to see the lovers reunite.

his gaze is back on you, unbelieving the sight before him, you’re actually here— standing in front of you him with a wide smile on your face. you slowly walk towards him, meeting him until your inches apart. your hands comfortingly grasping his hands, thumb grazing his ring. you eyes take in his features that matured from the time you were away, he does the same drinking in the sight of you— guess his feeling wasn’t wrong. you were afraid he wouldn’t recognize you or look at you the same the same way he did before but the loving gaze is still strong through his iris’

"you're quiet. do i look bad?" trying to break the ice, words unsaid whilst you took in the sights of each other. you missed him more than you can recount, now that he’s in your hands again you cannot imagine being apart now.

"no. no, god, no.” shaking his head, gathering himself ”you left me speechless. in a good way, of course." (prompt from @novelbear) he would have never thought you could leave him speechless in a way you did now, looking breathtaking under the warm lighting of the hall, a soft laugh leaving you before giving his hands a gentle squeeze. your nerves dissipates into comfort as you look at him, a sudden wave of emotions coming over you. tears wake at your waterline and chin trembling as you look at your lover, your hand moving to his cheek caressing it gently— all your worries and doubts disappearing, grateful to whatever being upon the universe that brought you together again. don immediately noticing your change of emotion and he pulls you into a tight but comforting hug. the rest of the world fades away as you share that familiar embrace, the connection you once thought lost rekindling in an instant. your arms tightly around his neck, as his rest on your waist and a hand soothing at your back. he tries his best to hold back tears of his own as you softly sob into his blazer jumbled out “i missed yous” between hiccups and sniffles, he softly hushes you, comforting you the best way he can as he tries to keep it together but all at the same time reciprocating the same words to you like a soft lullaby letting your crying subside. you part from the crook of his neck, eyes puffy and tear stricken cheeks. staring down sheepishly at your sudden outburst. don takes it with open arms, grasping your face as he wipes the tears away and tucks fallen hairs from your face. so glad to have you back in his arms again.

“so, were you surprised?” you ask, straightening yourself up acting as if nothing happened— brushing your hair to your back as your hands go to fix his blazer, hand lovingly gracing his tie, evening the two pieces together. he looks at you with a crooked smile—

“surprised? honey you blew me away.” mimicking the way someone would be blown away from strong wind. his effort of making you laugh fruitful, as you giggle with hand coming to cover your mouth.

“but seriously, i’ve missed you so much. there wasn’t a day where i didn’t think of you, you’re the reason i tried out for the team..” his words coming out soft and sincere, standing close to you again. your heart swelled at his words, looking up at him with loving eyes. all while finding the words to describe how much you missed him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you when i was in cal, adjusting to the school was difficult; i felt like it would’ve been so much easier if you were there with me… i struggled so much but eventually i fell into a routine that felt empty because you weren’t in it. that’s why i came up to visit you; i didn’t mean for it to be a surprise— i wrote to you about it but judging by your reaction you haven’t received it yet.” don processes your words, thinking how the week has been so busy that he hadn’t had the time to go to the mail room to check for any response from you. you can see in his eyes a shade of guilt swirling through them, comfortingly you run a hand over his chest. grounding him. “but regardless, surprise or not. i’m happy to be with you again and to see you win.” you gleam, now filled with pride, squeezing his bicep gently. don flushes at the thought of you watching him win, in such tight and little clothing as well. you tease him about how much fitter he’s gotten and how he must give you a personal lesson on rowing soon. cooing at his flushed cheeks with proud words of praise as he thinks of taking you on a boat ride before you leave, when you leave.

“how long are you staying?” his face falling a bit but you lighten up.

“well… if you read my letter you’d know i’m transferring here as of next semester.” you say proudly, biting at your lip as you await his reaction. you watch as he tilts his head, a breathless chuckle of disbelief leaving him. then suddenly he wraps his arms around you, twirling you in his grasp making you squeal in surprise. he puts you down before pressing his lips to yours before you can catch your breath, chaste and content but relayed feelings and emotions not expressed through words said.

“you’re not joking right?” praying this wasn’t just some sick joke you were playing to get a rouse out of him, you wouldn’t do that to him right? the moment you shake your head no as a massive smile graces your face, he swears he’s never been happier. nothing could damper his mood, not even the words you said next.

“i’m staying for 2 more weeks starting today before i leave back to cal. but we’ll only be apart for a few more months before the semester starts again.”

he was elated at the news, once again pulling you into a content embrace telling you a few months was nothing. it was only a few months, if he could get through a year he could get pass a few months.

well, he better make the most of the two weeks then.

the rest of the night plays in a high note as you and don join the rest of the group, them getting to know the lover don had been hiding from them. bobby and roger seemingly more interested in the stories you told of don before college, even the most embarrassing ones and eventually convincing him to play a song other than the washington fight song when the party had died down, instead playing the lighthearted tune of cheek to cheek ( the original version was released during the 1930s but feel free to reference the sinatra version :] ) with soft hums of singing along as he plays. he watches as his friends dance on the floor beneath him, ever so often looking at you— watching him from the height of the piano, eyes full of love with your chin resting in your hand. content as ever.

the other half of his heart came back to him and he couldn’t be happier.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#the long awaited part two!!!! #im so happy with how this came out #i really hope you all enjoy this as much as i did #(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #the boys in the boat #don hume #the boys in the boat imagines #the boys in the boat fanfiction #don hume imagines #don hume x reader #don hume fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jack mulhern

[imababblekat]

Vicarious Happiness

Anon Request, “Hi!! I love your work so much and I hope your doing wellI have a request if thats cool, it's fluffy raphael x reader(she/her) and it's like raph being all soft for once and letting his gard down and laughing and his brothers seeing this and they get all sappy”

~xXx~

It was the sounds of loud, hardy laughter that drew Leo from his once peaceful meditation. He knew that laugh and felt a familiar agitation itch at his mind, wondering what prank Raphael had pulled on Mikey this time. However, when he stepped out into the main living portion of the lair, he was quickly surprised to find the red banned turtle to not be cackling at his youngest brothers peril, but instead joyfully laughing along with you. While his laughter was louder and much deeper, no one could miss the cherry colored blush of your face as you laughed equally along. The leader of the four brothers made his way over to the kitchen, where he had spotted his two other siblings apparently watching the wholesome scene between Raph and the brothers close friend. “Donnie, you didn’t drop laughing gas again did you?”, Leo questioned with a raised brow and covering his snout. Hazel eyes glared behind self made classes. “I’ll have you know that was Casey’s fault! Also, no, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” Rolling his own eyes, Leo pointed a thumb over to where you and Raph sat close on the couch. “I ask because I’ve never seen Raph like that unless he did something. What’s up with him?” “Can’t you tell?”, Mikey jumped in with a swoon, batting non-existent lashes at Leo, “What’s up with Raph is (y,n)!” Leo scoffed, shoving Mikey out of his personal space as the other wiggled his brows. “Wait, are you guys serious? I know the two are close, but Raph like that? No way!” The two youngest brothers only smirked at each other, Donnie then stepping over to throw an arm around Leo. “Au contraire, my dear brother. Just take a look for yourself.” Leo did, and as he took a moment to really examine the scene before him, it wasn’t long till he caught on just like Mikey and Donnie had. It was the way Raphael looked at you, as you babbled on about something random but dear to yourself. His eyes held a fondness so rarely seen for someone such as him, a softness to his gaze rather than typical annoyance. It was as though he was deaf to your words, instead memorized and taking to memory the way you shined and glowed as you spoke so excitedly. However, Leo was also sure that for you, Raph was also making an effort to remember each and every single one of the words your spoke. Your voice and tone sounding like a melody to the terrapin no doubt. His body language was also a dead give away. Rather than taut or imposingly flexed, Raph sat comfortably with an air of, dare Leo even think it, vulnerability. There was not a sense of guardedness, no such thing as what he gave even around those he considered friends. With an arm slung over the couch and just an inch from being wrapped over your shoulders, an amorous smile and wholesome gaze still on your fast talking self, it was as though in that moment you were Raphael’s entire world. A cheeky grin found its way to Leo’s face. While he was already thinking of ways to tease the broad ninja turtle later, he at the same time couldn’t help but feel a sense of joyfulness for the other. The honorary leader had always been of a realistic mindset, had always been one hundred percent certain that they would never get to experience the pleasures of normal people. While a few years younger version of him would have been skeptical and jaded of this situation, the current more mature him felt nothing but elation. He’d always expected out of any of them for Mikey to somehow end up with a human partner if anything, but seeing Raphael of all people, soft and full of passion, it truly made him happy for the brother he’d so often fight with. Glancing over to Donnie and Mikey, the fondness they each shared while also watching the deepening bond shared between you and Raphael, he had a feeling they felt the same.

~xXx~

#bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse leo #bayverse leonardo #bayverse mikey #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse donnie #bayverse donatello #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #female reader #aged up tmnt #fluff #anon request #imababblekat's writing

[deliciousangelfestival]

Secret Sorrows || 3 -B.Barnes

Summary: Former special ops, Bucky, seeks solace in a cold refuge to escape his past. However, his haunted history catches up, unraveling mysteries that persist relentlessly.

Series Masterlist

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

It had been several days since the elder of the Astons had visited Van Alen's residence. Bucky found himself continuing his duty as a bodyguard for Ethan Van Alen, the sole heir of both conglomerate families.

If someone had said that Bucky would protect his ex-girlfriend's son, he would have laughed. But life worked in impossible ways. Here, he was doing just that.

While Bucky was on duty, he couldn't shake the need for answers about Y/N Aston. Despite learning that Iris and Y/N were identical twins, he still found it hard to believe. It was Iris, who had been with him back when they were young.

Yet, why did Y/N's actions mirror Iris's so closely?

If Y/N were more approachable, perhaps Bucky could find the answers. She might even tell him he was crazy. But with her busy schedule, stepping in for Ethan's father and managing both family businesses, she seemed almost impossible to talk to.

Y/N didn’t have time to comfort her only nephew. Since Bucky had to guard Ethan 24/7, he knew the kid wanted to talk to his relative. Both aunt and nephew lived in the same house, yet they rarely spent time together.

Bucky remembered Ethan's words, "My aunt is married to her job."

He thought it was a shame. Y/N was beautiful. With her status, she could have any man.

Wait, was she still single?

He shook his head, realizing how absurd it was to even entertain such thoughts considering Y/N was his employer.

Clearing his throat, Bucky walked towards Ethan's room, glancing at the kid's schedule. There were so many classes: foreign language, investment, fencing, public speaking, IT, swimming, and more.

Ethan was only 7 years old; he didn’t have time to play, especially since it was only a week after his parents' funeral.

Bucky knocked on Ethan’s door.

“Come in,” Ethan called out.

Bucky entered to find Ethan practicing the violin. Though classical music wasn't his preference, Ethan's skill didn't sound like that of a beginner.

Ethan stopped playing and placed the violin back in its case. “What class do I have next?”

“Swimming class,” Bucky replied.

Ethan sighed. “Can you teach me instead?”

Bucky hesitated. “If you want, but you know everything has to go through protocol.”

Ethan pouted. “At least, today, you have to accompany me.”

Bucky's instincts told him something didn't seem right. “Alright.”

Ethan went to his wardrobe; even at his young age, he had already been taught to pack his things. Bucky still found himself in awe of the kid's wardrobe room; it was bigger than his own bedroom in Antarctica.

While Ethan searched for his swimming goggles, he asked, “Has my aunt already left?”

Bucky replied, “Yes,” noticing Ethan's shoulders slump at the confirmation. He asked gently, “Do you want to talk to her?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, she’s busy. I don’t want to bother her.” Having prepared everything, he added, “Let’s go.”

When Bucky arrived at the swimming pool, he saw an athletic man. From the first impression, Bucky could already read him: overly proud and cocky.

“Bucky, right? I’ve been informed you’ll be the new guard. I’m alright if you want to join us,” the coach said.

Bucky gave a slight nod, glancing at Ethan. “Ethan, I’ll be standing here, okay?”

For a brief moment, Ethan's face brightened. Bucky wondered what made Ethan seem to not enjoy the class.

Ethan and the teacher did warm-ups before getting into the pool.

The coach instructed, “We will start with the freestyle and work on improving your lap times.”

When the teacher blew the whistle, Ethan began swimming to the other side. Bucky was impressed; for a kid his age, he was quite fast.

The coach checked his stopwatch. “1:50. You could do better than that.”

Bucky couldn't understand why the coach expected the little kid to go faster in a 100m freestyle.

"Again," the coach commanded.

"Again."

"You're getting slower."

Bucky held back his emotions when he noticed Ethan looking drained.

The coach looked down at Ethan and shook his head. "Your father would be disappointed with the result, Ethan."

Seeing Ethan sniffle and wipe his eyes, Bucky couldn't take it anymore.

He kicked the coach back and pushed him into the pool. The coach wasn't prepared and struggled to resurface before gasping for breath. Bucky held him under the water again.

“Can’t you see the boy is already breathless and exhausted?” Bucky questioned sharply.

The coach sputtered, "Wait… wait…"

"Do it again. I want to see how long you can hold your breath."

"Ugh."

Peter couldn’t believe what he saw. He rushed over from watching the CCTV to stop Bucky. "Bucky, what happened—"

Bucky shot Peter a warning look. "Get Ethan out of here. I need to talk to this guy."

Peter hurriedly escorted Ethan away, wondering why Bucky was so furious with the swimming coach.

Once they were gone, Bucky removed his black suit and throw it.

He pulled the coach from the pool like a fish. The coach coughed and caught his breath. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"A moment ago? Yes," Bucky admitted bluntly.

The coach's eyes widened. Never in his life had someone admitted to wanting to kill him straight to his face.

"I have a question: will Ethan enter the Olympics?" Bucky asked.

The coach shook his head. "No."

"Then why do you have to make him suffer like that? If that boy could talk, he would ask you to stop. But he can’t. As a teacher, you should know your students' capabilities."

"I only do what my employer asks me," the coach defended himself.

"Who? Miss Y/N Aston?" Bucky questioned.

"No! The Van Alen family," the coach confessed.

Bucky's grip on him loosened. This information was shocking. Why did the Van Alen family treat Ethan like this?

"Get up, gather your things, and never set foot in this place again," Bucky commanded.

The coach protested, "You have no—"

"Miss Aston hired me to protect her nephew. It’s better if you resign before you lose your teaching license. You know what I’m capable of," Bucky warned.

The coach ran away, leaving Bucky to ponder the situation.

On the other side, Y/N had just returned from the company. Spotting Peter and Ethan, her nephew walking with a towel draped around him, she observed Ethan's eagerness as he ran toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Y/N asked Peter for an explanation, her expression remaining stoic as she listened to the summarized account.

Her heart ached hearing about her nephew's ordeal. Despite her typically reserved demeanor, a flicker of concern flashed in her eyes. She instructed Peter, "Tell Mr. Barnes to meet me at my office," her voice firm yet tinged with an underlying worry, before walking away.

Concerned, Ethan tugged at Peter's clothes. "Is Bucky in trouble because of me?" His voice carried a hint of apprehension.

Peter patted Ethan's back reassuringly, his tone gentle. "I'm sure he'll be alright. Don't worry." He tried to offer comfort to the young boy, knowing the weight of responsibility could be heavy on his small shoulders.

In Y/N's office, she was signing documents while Bucky stood before her, his presence commanding attention. She remained so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even lift her head when she spoke, "You want to explain why a half-naked man in a speedo ran away screaming from my house?"

Bucky answered casually, "Well, yeah, since I threatened him." His tone was nonchalant, but there was a hint of underlying tension in his voice.

Y/N looked up, her expression unreadable, a mix of surprise and curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Bucky still wasn’t accustomed to looking directly into her eyes; there was something pulling at him that he couldn’t quite describe. "The way I do my job may be different from anyone here, but I can't let the person I'm protecting feel unsafe. Do you know Ethan's swimming coach did it on purpose, and it was ordered by the Van Alen family?" His voice carried a note of frustration, a rare glimpse of emotion from the typically stoic man.

Y/N didn't respond immediately; it seemed like she already knew.

Gritting his teeth, Bucky wondered what was wrong with wealthy people. She had everything, so why didn’t she want to mend her relationship with Ethan? His frustration simmered beneath the surface, evident in the tenseness of his jaw.

Bucky said firmly, his voice tinged with determination, "If you have at least 5 minutes, I suggest you talk to Ethan." With that, he left the room, his footsteps echoing with purpose.

Y/N's secretary clicked her tongue, then turned to her boss, her expression reflecting concern. "Do you want to fire him?" There was a note of uncertainty in her voice, wary of the potential repercussions.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the closed door, "No, just fire the swimming coach." Her tone was decisive, yet there was a hint of resignation in her voice. She looked at her secretary, her gaze unwavering. "Cancel the rest of my schedule today."

“But, ma’am, you have an important call this evening." The secretary's voice held a hint of concern, recognizing the significance of the upcoming call.

"I will call them tomorrow. Send a formal apology letter," Y/N ordered, her tone final, a sense of determination underlying her words.

*********

Y/N went to Ethan's bedroom, her footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.

Ethan, who was playing blocks with Bucky, was surprised to see his aunt, his expression a mix of curiosity and anticipation. As she entered the room, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a sense of tension dissipating.

“Auntie,” Ethan greeted her, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Looking nervous, he turned to Bucky, who gave him a reassuring nod, his silent support evident in his expression.

Approaching Y/N, Ethan said, “Aunt, can I change my swimming coach?” His words were hesitant, a mixture of hope and apprehension lacing his tone.

Y/N replied, her voice calm yet distant, “Sure, I’ll call the Olympic coach.”

Ethan hesitated, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Bucky. “No, can Bucky teach me?” His voice held a note of pleading, a silent plea for connection.

Y/N responded, her tone neutral, “I don’t mind. You should ask him.” Her words were measured, a reflection of her reserved nature.

Ethan turned to Bucky, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Bro Bucky already agreed, I just wanted to ask for your permission first.” There was a hint of excitement in his voice, a spark of hope igniting within him.

Bucky felt relieved that they were finally communicating, his expression softening with understanding.

Ethan continued, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. “And can I ask you another favor?” His voice was eager, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Y/N encouraged him to speak, her expression remaining impassive, yet there was a flicker of something in her eyes, a hint of warmth beneath the surface.

“For foreign language class, can I just study German and Korean? German engineering is great, and South Korea has good products, it's good for my future. For investment class, can I learn how to trade with real money? And can I study martial arts with Bucky instead of fencing?” Ethan's words poured out in a rush, his enthusiasm palpable.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his surprise evident in his expression. These weren’t typical requests from a 7-year-old, yet there was a sense of determination in Ethan's voice, a silent plea for understanding.

Glancing at Y/N, who didn’t seem surprised, he realized both aunt and nephew shared the same traits, a sense of resilience amidst adversity.

Y/N asked, her tone measured, “Anything else?” Her words were neutral, yet there was a hint of something in her voice, a subtle shift in her demeanor.

Ethan shook his head, his excitement palpable. “That’s everything.”

Y/N assured him, her voice distant yet tinged with a hint of warmth, “I’ll instruct my secretary to change your teachers, and give you the money for you to invest.” before leaving the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.

Bucky couldn’t shake off the feeling of Y/N being distant from her nephew, his concern is evident in his expression. He thought Ethan felt abandoned again, but it seemed he was mistaken.

Ethan ran to him, his eyes excitedly shining, exclaiming, “Bucky, did you see that? My aunt smiled today.” There was a sense of joy in his voice, a silent celebration of a small victory.

Confused, Bucky probably needed to get his eyes checked, as he hadn’t seen her smile at all. But as long as Ethan was happy, he would agree to anything.

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Sacrifices

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: After closing the Darkhold, Wanda struggled to find her place in the word. Until she met you that is. And in you, she found hope. But the past has a way of coming back and she’s faced with an impossible choice once again. A choice that’s going to break her heart.

Warning: So much angst!; lesbian relationship, break ups, nightmares, emotional trauma; Hurt No Comfort... This is my first ever Angst fic, so please be kind! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Part 1: Sacrifices; Part 2: The hunt

                                                                                       Wanda drove through the dark, seemingly abandoned streets with a sense of unexplainable nervousness. She had that feeling all day. A sinister, foreboding feeling had been hanging over her head and she couldn’t shake it, no matter what she did. Perhaps it was the nightmares she’s been having. They were back the past few weeks and that last one had her reeling. If she closed her eyes, she could see it again, every detail of it, that filled her heart with dread. She’d been dreaming of the Scarlet Witch again, with her torn suit and tattered cape, surrounded by candles by the dozens, her scarlet magic emanating from her, surrounding her, spreading out from within and taking over everything it touched, until there was only magic. Until there was only her. Her power, her magic, her will. She could see the Darkhold too, its blackened pages filled with magic and a will of its own, a will that corrupted everything it touched, just like her, both of them battling to take control. But it didn’t matter anyway… If she won, if she lost herself to it… What was there to return to, when there was only her left. A whole world, bent and twisted, filled with nothing but mindless slaves, bowing to the Scarlet Witch and her alone. Shaking her head, Wanda tried to push the memory aside. She wasn’t that woman anymore. She had destroyed that book, destroyed the temple… Her temple. She had left all of that behind. That woman, the other one, the one she liked to think of as the Scarlet Witch, as if she wasn’t part of her, was long buried beneath the rubble of her temple. She was just Wanda now. But that didn’t give her any peace. After everything, she doubted that she’ll ever find peace. That such a thing even existed for people like her… She had wandered Earth for months after that. Trying to escape governments, heroes, “private organizations”… Trying to escape herself most of all. It was in you that she finally found some semblance of calm. She met you at the park of all places. You’d been walking your dog, listening to something on your headphones, blind and oblivious to the people around you, blind to her too, until your dog ran and found her way to Wanda, wagging her tail and begging for pets and attention.   “I’m sorry if she’s bothering you.” You said as you caught up to her, seeing Wanda pet her gently, while your dog liked her hand. “She’s friendly, but she doesn’t usually just run up to people like that.” “Oh no, no bother at all, she’s a sweetheart.” Wanda had responded, her eyes studying you up close. Of course, she had seen you, found you beautiful, found your calm, soft demeanour very attractive, but she never dreamed she’d actually talk to you. Her days of chatting up girls and sweet talking them into falling into bed with her were behind her now… She didn’t want that kind of thing anymore either. She longed for a real partner, someone who would choose her and continue to choose her every day, for the rest of their lives. She wanted love, wanted companionship… A family. Oh, how she longed for that. Her glimpse of a normal life, of a normal family had left her aching, even if everyone kept telling her it wasn’t real. God, how could they not understand? It was real to her… “She likes you very much. I’ve rarely seen her do that.” You noted, looking lovingly at your dog and bringing Wanda back to reality, your dog still rubbing her head in Wanda. “Thank you for indulging us.” “Thank you for the company.” Wanda found herself responding, genuinely pleased to have someone to talk to. To her surprise, you and your dog stayed that day. The conversation started with something so simple and flowed from there. You sat on the bench next to Wanda, keeping a respectful distance, while sweet Bella perched her head in Wanda’s lap and refused to leave, content with the small, gentle pets Wanda offered her. Whenever the woman stopped petting her, too caught up in the conversation to notice, your dog would sometimes nudge Wanda with her head, silently asking for more of her attention. Wanda found that it was the loveliest afternoon she’d spent in months and she almost asked you to stay a little longer, when you told her that you had to head home, but she never worked up the courage to ask for your number or to ask to see you again. She could hear your thoughts as you considered asking, but felt too shy, too insecure to be so bold as to presume that this lovely woman would want to see you again, or would consider going out with you. You walked away, sometimes turning back to see her, still sitting on her bench, hands in her lap, motionless, now that she didn’t have your dog’s soft fur to run her fingers through. You thought she looked beautiful in the golden light of the sunset, so beautiful and so sad. Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about you after that day. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way you quieted down the worries and the dark voices in her head, the way you smiled, the way you spoke softly, the kind look in your eyes, the delicate gestures you used… You were smart, introspective in a lot of ways, but stable. You knew yourself, knew your mind and that gave you a calm security. Something that seemed to follow you. Your presence gave Wanda the same calmness and she found herself yearning for that. Eventually, she found herself in that park every day, hoping to see you again. It became her routine and the brightest part of her dull day, even if you were nowhere to be seen. The simple memory of that interaction filled her with a sense of hopefulness. She came back for weeks, until she finally saw you again, wearing light blue jeans and a simple white shirt. You were lovely, your hair down and your sunglasses on top of your head, while you walked. It was your dog that found her again, but this time you seemed unsurprised when you found Bella with her head in Wanda’s lap and you fell into a conversation, each of you sharing about the new things in your life. Truthfully, Wanda didn’t have much to say, she was content to just listen to you, her eyes following you with a tranquil reverence. It was only when you mentioned that you should have taken some water with you, that she realized how long you two had stayed and in hopes of securing your company for a little while longer, she offered to take you for coffee. It was with that one little question that she started her slow, steady relationship with you. It was just friendship at first, walks in the park and going out for some coffee in the afternoons, picnics during weekends. It was friendship, yet so much more. She longed for the days, when she knew she’d see you, because she knew you’d greet her with a hug, that for a moment she’ll get to be enveloped by your scent, your perfume, that she’ll feel your hands around her… And even though she hated to let you go, she knew you’d say goodbye in the same way and it melted her heart. She fell for you steadily, day by day, hour by hour, until she couldn’t deny it any longer, yet she held it all back, so afraid to lose this one thread of positivity in her life. She longed and she yearned and she let her heart ache at the thought of you, until she could stand it no longer and she asked if she could take you out on a date. A real one. A proper one. And she almost cried, tears of heartbreaking happiness stinging her eyes, as she watched you say yes. Restraint was a new thing for her, foreign yet appropriate when it came to you. It felt right that she would love you with reverence, with patience, with gentleness… She would often look at her hands, those blackened fingers that only she could see, always making her stomach turn in revulsion at the things she’d done. The same hands that she used to hold your own, to stroke your cheek, to remove strands of hair from your face. The same hands that she used to bring so much pain, so much destruction in this world… The same hands that you so often kissed with silent awe. As she drove now, on her way to your house, Wanda couldn’t help but let her heart break all over again at the memory of it. Fuck, how could she be so stupid as to let you go? But she had to! She never wanted to, never imagined she could or would do such a thing, but God, she had to! She’d spent the best part of a year with you, when it first happened. Someone knocked on her door, way too early in the morning, but she wasn’t sleeping anyway. Wanda was ready to send them away, when the sight of them had her frozen in place. Clint was there, another agent at his back, a young girl with a bright face. He was there to tell her that the government had been watching her, seen her turn her life around… He was there to tell her that the Avengers, whatever was left of them, were willing to take her back. And she tried to listen, she really did, tried to pay attention to the words of a man she respected, who had helped her put herself together, when the task seemed impossible to accomplish, but it was all just noise. All she could think about was you. Sweet, innocent you, the girl who had made her life better, who slept in her bed upstairs… Who the government had been watching. Because of her.   She rushed them out of her house quickly, Clint and that girl, Kate, watching them get into their car and drive away. But she knew she’d see them again. From the moment she saw them standing there, she knew this won’t be the last she sees of them. And she wasn’t wrong. They came back, but she, she never wanted to return to that life. If only refusing was that simple. But it never was. The past had a way of finding you, claiming your present with the things left unfinished, and she could never escape it. Magic had resurfaced, old, powerful magic and with that, her past came knocking at her door. Agents that followed her, that sat across the street from her house, watching her, that investigated every small detail of her life. Agents, that eventually knocked on your door, looking for her. They hadn’t really told you anything, just scared you, but they also made her past impossible to deny. And even though she had no intention of keeping it a secret, she hadn’t yet been ready to share that part of her life. But they forced her. And that conversation had been one of the hardest things she’d had to do. The kind of thing that she expected to break you. To tare you apart from her and leave her heart bleeding yet again. She thought this will be the end. It certainly seemed that way at first. It was so hard to find the right words, to explain the things that happened, the things she had done out of grief and sorrow and your face looked so solemn, so shocked and full of bewilderment, while you stared at her quietly. By the end, she was ready to just leave, walk out of your home and away from the warmth of your presence, her tears streaming down her face endlessly, but you didn’t give her the chance. You got up from your spot and you took her into your arms, dragging her to the couch as she sobbed in your shoulder. You cried with her, cried for the pain she’d been through, cried as you imagined all the times she wanted to tell you these things, but couldn’t. You cried because you loved her and your heart couldn’t take her sadness. When her tale was over and she had no tears left to cry, her head pounding terribly, almost as hard as her heart was, Wanda knew you’d have to make a choice. A choice she never wanted you to have to make. But none of this was fair to you. That mess she had for a life was hers. It would be much better, much safer for you, if you walked away. You should have. You should have walked away and left her with her monstrousness and her grief. But you chose her. In a twist of fate, in foolishness, you chose her. The words you said that night, in their quiet strength still haunted her. “I will always choose you.” You whispered, as you placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Love is the easy part. It has been so easy to love you, Wanda. But love isn’t enough. I’ve always known that. Love comes and does in an instant, if it is left untended. Forever takes commitment. Forever is a choice. And I will always choose you.” Fuck, she was a fool! She had that! She had you and she let it all go. Her hands squeezed the steering wheel, until her knuckles turned white, her body going through the motions of driving, even though her mind was somewhere else completely. She was so close to your house now. She knew every street, every turn, every house on her way there by heart. But she couldn’t pay attention to them. In her mind, Wanda kept seeing the days long past now. Despite your acceptance, things changed. She was never alone with you anymore. She would spot cars outside your apartment, dark vans across the street from her house, felt them lurking near you and felt so scared for you. She could feel the sticky, hot air of the summer, the smell of her Heliotropes and Gardenias sticking to her nostrils. Usually, she’d be delighted, but she couldn’t stand it now. It was making her sick, almost dizzy as it filled her lungs and her hands shook almost violently. Violence… Yes, that’s what was on her mind, her hands squeezed into fists as she watched yet another car with tinted windows park across the street. She had nothing to do with the sacrifices, she needed none for her spells, her magic was far more powerful than that. She had nothing to do with the dark omens that followed them either. Ugly things, created more by mistake, than design, but powerful none the less. Bloody rain, falling on top of the first massacred body and scaring the masses, the people who wondered near the next one going blind, parts of the city disappearing into stormy clouds that nothing and no one could thread. It was getting ugly, it was getting out of hand and she started to fear for you with each passing day. But the agents came to watch her do absolutely nothing. It was infuriating. More so, when she watched them take pictures of you, as you approached her house. That almost made her snap. But she pulled you inside, one of her arms wrapped protectively around you, as she rushed you inside. In a moment of weakness and a surge of magic, the pictures they took disappeared and the agents had the good sense of leaving quickly, but she knew they’ll be back. She just hoped that she’d sent her message clearly enough. You were off limits. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. In the coming days she saw them everywhere. At the grocery store, out in the park, at her house, at your job… They were following you too, you just never knew, your eyes were never trained to see them, to recognize their presence. But they were there. They approached you after work this time. And they weren’t gentle either. They had asked you so many questions, personal questions, followed you to your car, made you feel unsafe, made you feel threatened. And it drove Wanda mad. She spent the night consoling you, soothing you, trying to calm you down, all while her mind seethed with rage. They were never going to leave her alone, would they? They would never leave you alone either. And she feared there wasn’t much more you could take of it. Perhaps she underestimated you, perhaps it was her fondness for you, her love for you, that made her see you as fragile, but she feared this will break you. That it would kill your love for her, that it will make you stop choosing her. Perhaps she was afraid of how far she was willing to go to shield you from it all. But she found herself waking each new day with a fear. A fear that she’ll lose you. As if to spite her, as if to make this even harder, they kept coming, making themselves known, making their presence so obvious, that even you saw them. And you were afraid. Afraid to leave the house without her, afraid to be alone and afraid that one day you’ll come back to this house, her house that had just started to feel like a home, and she won’t be there anymore. That she’d be gone and she’d never come back. That you’ll never see her face again. Fuck, that scared you. Wanda could hear you cry at night sometimes, face buried in her neck and your hands squeezing her tightly, your fingers digging into her sides, as if to remind yourself that she’s here, that she’s real, that she’ll stay. And it tore her apart. It made her soul cry out to be the cause of such pain for you, yet tears never came. When she saw Clint again, she knew there was no other way. She had seen the news, so many people trying to make sense of what was going on, she’d seen the way people’s minds had started to shift too. Young people, so full of hope and understanding were in awe of magic, but most people feared it. They feared what they couldn’t understand or control, they feared what it could do to their lives and loved ones… They feared people like her most of all. And she knew where it could lead. Magic wielders, mutants, people with gifts had been persecuted before. If she didn’t help stop this threat, if it got out of hand, it could happen again. But she couldn’t do it, while fearing for you. She couldn’t go out and fight whoever was doing this, if she knew that you’d be followed around by agents, that her involvement would put a target on you, that maybe the wrong kind of people will come looking for you, do to you the kind of things she only saw in her nightmares… No, that was unthinkable. As Wanda reached your house, her car parking discretely some distance away, she walked the calm neighbourhood with her heart in her throat. She knew you’d be home, knew your schedule and she wasn’t surprised to see you in your living room, yet the sight stole her breath away. You were dressed in a black tank top she got you, long and loose enough to just about cover the tops of your thighs, the material of your black pantie poking out when you shifted and Wanda stood there mesmerised. God, you were beautiful. Just as beautiful as she remembered you… She came here every week, always choosing a different day for fear of being seen, but it had been a little over a month since the last night she ever spoke to you. She hated to remember that night. It opened a gaping wound in her chest every time she did. But she remembered none the less. She remembers the pained, desolate look in your eyes, as you realized she was saying goodbye, that she was leaving you. She remembers the silent tears that fell down your cheeks, unstoppable, no matter what she said. And the more she spoke, the more it pained you, Wanda realized, because in your love you understood. Fuck, she wished you didn’t. Wished you would get angry, that you would hate her, that you would hit her, because she would rather suffer than see you so broken-hearted. But you did none of those things. You just cried, curled up and so small now, so fragile it was sickening. And when she came closer, when she came to hold you, you recoiled, making yourself smaller, in hopes of hiding yourself away from her, as the pain inside your chest solidified. It was a living, breathing thing that Wanda could feel. It was drowning out everything, deafening and cruel in the way it turned your usually calm mind against you. “You weren’t good enough.” “You were never good enough.” “Baby, no, don’t think that.” Wanda almost broke down, her voice hoarse and shaking. Fuck, her whole body was shaking. She hated to hear those thoughts, hated that you pushed her away as she tried to take you into her arms, hated that she could feel you longing for her, while she was so close to you, yet you wouldn’t allow yourself, wouldn’t allow her to make it better. As she took the key for your house off her chain and put it on the table, knowing she could never get back from this, Wanda almost didn’t do it. She could walk away with you. She could just take you and go somewhere, where no one would ever find you, where there were no sorcerers, no sacrifices… She could protect you, protect the life the two of you had. She could be happy. For once, she could choose happiness, over everything else. She deserved that! She had earned that! Wanda had taken one final glance at you that night. Your face was turned away from her, unable to look at her, for fear that if you did, if you allowed yourself to see her quivering lips and her tearstained cheeks and her solemn expression, you would break down. You would forget about your pride and your self-respect and you would beg. You’d beg her to stay, you’d beg her to choose you, the way you had chosen her… Most of all you were afraid it wouldn’t matter. Now, as Wanda stood outside your house, as she saw the most precious thing she’d had, she couldn’t help but think of all the things she wished she’d done differently that night. But if she did that, she’d never leave this spot, never go back to the Tower, never do anything but look and admire you. No, she wasn’t here for that. She just wanted to see you, wanted to hear your voice again. That’s why she was coming back here every week. For you. For the reminder of why she was fighting in the first place. Slowly, tentatively, she opened her mind, her telepathic field extending around your house, as she let the thoughts inside your head fill her… And she let the sound of your voice break her heart all over again. “I know, Bella, I miss the park too. But I can’t go there, girl. I’m sorry.” You spoke as you scratched your dog, allowing her to hop on the couch next to you, so you’d hug her. “It just reminds me so much of her.” Wanda watched you blink back tears, dangerously close to letting her own spill down, her feet bringing her a little closer despite the danger. “I wander where she is. If she’s ok… God, I hope she’s ok.” You whispered pleadingly, even if the words were uttered only in your mind. “It’s gotten so bad, lately. It’s what everyone talks about. God, I wish she’s safe. No one will ever tell me if she is… They’ll never report it, if something happens to her. I’ll never know…” As Wanda practically reached your window, getting closer than she’s been since she left, she considered knocking on your door. Just to ease your mind, she thought, just to reassure you that she’s safe, that she’s ok, that she’s still here. But she couldn’t do that… “Oh, Wanda… My Wanda… I miss you so much, baby… I wish I could tell you that. I wish you knew how empty I’ve been without you. How pointless it feels to live day by day… I don’t want to face my days without you. I don’t want to face life without you. Fuck, Wanda, it’s not fair that you left! It’s not fair! You should be here! With me. You should have loved me enough to stay…” Wanda tried to breathe, tried to stay calm, tried to stop herself from sobbing as she doubled over, an ugly scream clawing at her throat. “Baby, don’t think that!” She responded in her mind, knowing you would never hear her. “Please, don’t think that!” “I would rather face life with you, than watch it pass me by… I would rather die beside you than waste away, one pathetic heartbeat at a time. Nothing’s worse than this.” “Losing you, Y/N. Losing you is far worse…” If only Wanda could tell you that. But it wasn’t meant to be. You could never hear her and she didn’t have the strength to knock on your door. “I wish I could see you. I wish I could just catch a glimpse of you… I look for you everywhere I go now. Every window, every street corner, every shadow and dimly lit space… I just miss you. I miss the way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste… I miss your laugh, I miss watching your sitcoms with you. Damn you, I can never watch one again…” “I miss you too, my love. I miss you so much.” She tried to close her eyes as she listened, tried to look away from your face, but she couldn’t. You were so close. She could see every feature, every expression, every small detail… The dark circles under your eyes, the sagging shoulders, the defeated way you moved… You never looked like that before. Not on your worst days. You had lost weight, she could tell that too. You probably wouldn’t eat at all, or leave the house if it wasn’t for Bella… She had done all that. And it hurt so much to know she could never take it back. “I miss your presence so much, Wands… The way you’d wrap your arm around me, your fingers tracing poetry on the skin of my shoulders, as we talked. I want that back, baby. I want you back.” “I want you too, my love, I do. But it’s not safe for you… Not yet.” “Damn you… I don’t know how to feel anything but sadness anymore… I want so much more. Is pain really what we’ve earned in life? There’s gotta be more! I want to feel joy, I want to feel your love again, I want to hold your hand… I want to feel human again! Please!” You sobbed, tired and desperate and feeling so utterly alone. “I can’t… If I knock on that door, if I look in your eyes, if I take you in my arms again… Baby, I won’t let go! I’ll kiss you till I’m drunk, I’ll press you against me and I’ll watch the world burn. I’ll let it all burn for you” Sobbing, unable to stop it for a second longer, Wanda pulled away from your thoughts, closing her mind and letting her eyes move away from you, even if you were the only thing she wanted to see. She whimpered, back pressed against the wall of your house and letting her tears cloud her vision. It was better that way. Better not to see. Better not to hear. Better not to let temptation break whatever was left of her will. Pushing herself away from your wall and away from your house, she looked back one last time, seeing your body curled around your dog as you cried and as she allowed her heart to shatter. “There wasn’t much left of it anyway…”

#lesbian #writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #Scarlet Witch #Angst

[peachydarlingz]

-Memories of you- Finnick Odair

headers @attxnt and @plutism

Warnings: Major angst, implied character deaths.

Pairing: Finnick odair x f! reader

-

We were growing old together, of course we were dying.

We found time to talk about it, the sensitive stuff; And it always brought us closer.

Back in our twenties, we might’ve avoided the topic, finding time to ignore and argue about it instead. But when you’re old, wise and your days are spent mindlessly rocking back and forth holding hands, things become simpler, easier. Those harder conversations seem to flow naturally.

“Finn, when I die, can you hold my hand until I get to the other side?”

“How do you know I won’t go first?” Theres a jest in my voice, but I know she’s serious. Her health has been declining more and more recently. I just smile and squeeze her hand. “Of course, my blossom.”

And what a privilege it was to grow old by her side. After everything we had been through together, it was everything I wanted and more.

In my old age, years after my love died, I was often asked the question, “Will you remarry?” and I would always laugh, and it would always catch them off guard. But that’s a funny question to me; I couldn’t help but laugh, because when you’ve had everything, why would you want anything else?

But I loved that question too, because every time they’d ask, I get to talk about you.

“I remember how she could notice an arthritis flare up from the shift in the air, she knew me so well. It’s so rare that you’re connected with someone. So connected, that you can breathe their air and know what they’re feeling, exactly what they’re saying...” there’s a long pause.

“Anyways, when she would notice a flare up, she was always right by my side with a heating pad and a massage. “And I catch myself remembering what once was. “Someone who once soothed the deep pain she knew she could not heal… but would do anything to calm it. Any remedy or potion, because that’s love.” and those sentiments in our old life, and that silly question reminds me of a new memory my mind threatens to forget. but I know deep down, she is the last thing I’ll ever forget. That is something I’ll make sure of.

And every time, I am met with the same response to the same stupid question, silence.

I talk to the vision of you in my head, and I’ll often make that poor nurse pull out the photo album again. But I can’t help it, you look so beautiful in our wedding photo; Or the picture of you planting sage in the garden, just for me.

“Every morning when I’d get back from my morning swim, she would always have a fresh cup of sage tea and a hazelnut muffin waiting for me. Even on the days the bakery wasn’t open, and especially the holidays, she made sure to get extra.”

“That’s very sweet Mr. Odair, now let’s take your medicine.” And I’m pulled back into limbo again.

I seem to be rotting more and more after being the last one left. After you died, it seemed that old age and disease got our friends. You’ll be happy to know that the ‘Star-crossed lovers’ from district 12 died together from old age, just like we predicted they would. Suddenly I’m laughing to myself, remembering our conversations of the pair. Both of us agreeing that if one died, the other would soon follow from heartbreak, if they didn’t grow old together.

It seems like every little memory brings me back to her, even when I don’t mean to.

But maybe that’s my feeble mind’s attempt to keep its grasp on you.

I think the only reason I lived so long after you passed is because you’d be mad at me if I didn’t. And I would never want to upset my wife, even if it’s in the afterlife.

But once Johanna faded, it was just me left. Life just seemed a lot duller after that.

You would think being in the games, the war, all the death I’ve been through would make it easier, but somehow, it’s not. Each death just seemed to take more of the life out of me, and now, I’m the last one left. So, I lay here in this cold hospital bed drifting in and out of the labyrinth that is my mind.

From what I can gather when I’m conscious, I’m not doing too great. The doctors say I’ve forgotten how to do everything except drink water and mumble a few words. They say I can’t last long like this. But to be honest, I really don’t care. I just want to see you again.

“Pictures!!”

“Yes, Mr. Odair I’m getting the photo album, I promise.” That poor nurse, I hope she knows it’s appreciated.

When the nurse sits down next to me and starts flipping through the book, I feel grounded again. I’m looking at my favorite picture of you, how could I ever forget that memory?

We were on our honeymoon, and I just remember thinking, ‘Wow, that’s my wife.’.  I couldn’t help but snap a quick picture when you weren’t looking. Which, of course you didn’t like, but that’s exactly why I did it, and I’m so glad I did. I really do miss you.

I think the thing I miss the most about you is your smell. There was nothing else like it, because it was just so you. I could never replicate it even if I tried, and I did try.

It was the way she layered the complimenting scents after putting on her lotion. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. I crave for the day I get to crossover and embrace that euphoric feeling again.

I’m not scared to die; I’ve been close to death more times than I can count. But in a way, maybe I am scared. I’m scared that I won’t see you again. And maybe I shouldn’t have based my idea of the afterlife on you, but to me everything is based off you. It’s how I keep myself sane. Well, as sane as I can be.

I may not know the date, or really what I even look like in my now bedridden state, but I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and I can’t help but close my eyes and reflect on my life. My body feels heavy, I can truly say I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. The wrinkles on my face remind me of every smile and laugh I experienced and for a moment I’m ethereal.

But I guess I’ve really lost it, because I swear, I can smell the essence of you…

#peachywritesfinnick🩷 #peachywrites🩷 #finnick odair #the hunger games #thg finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick fluff #finnick angst #fanfic #finnick odair smut #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #thg series #thg #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick fanfic #sam claflin

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi. I don’t know if I’ve requested here before, but I have a (semi) great idea.

The rundown is somehow Caine found a karaoke machine! This leads to an iha where everyone + reader and Caine sing. (Honestly I just want to see what you’d think they’d sing).

Thank you!❤️❤️

KARAOKE TIME IN THE CIRCUS!

quick warning that you guys are about to be exposed to my music taste because i rarely ever listen to songs that dont fit my tastes so uh uh theres your warning, i know i have a warning somewhere on my acc where i say OOC is a possibility but i think it will really shine through here short post since its just me dropping what song i think each character would sing + links! this actually reminds me, ive had an IHA idea where its basically a musical episode where everyone cant talk, only sing but idk what the actual adventure itself would be and how music would tie in shrugs

CAINE:

as much as i wanna say hello world by louie zong, because AI stuff and bc ive been listening to it for the past hour on loop, i feel like that would be too on the nose and even completely out of character. so instead i suggest jerryterrys version of the boys are back in town

for one i am absolutely obsessed with jerryterrys version of the song above, as well as kiss me (kill me), i highly recommend you guys check out the music videos and put together the lore (CW for body horror in kiss me kill me, though!)

but like, my brain juices are flowing, like. i can see him singing the original, but imagine how unnerving it would be (assuming caine is actually going to be an antagonist) for the words to just. change and come out wrong in front of everyone

also i just want an excuse to gush about jerryterry

i love when people make song covers that sound like the original but theres something so terribly wrong

actually i love songs like that in general

caine gets two, because i can also see him singing charlie's inferno

POMNI:

oddly enough i can see pomni being into vocaloid and/or songs from anime. maybe its because her voice actor has voiced someone in JJBA and that fact is plaguing my mind, but i can now distinctly hear pomni singing some of my favorite songs in these genres... alas i dont have a set song in mind: so i will give you a song that does not fit the above at all, everyones favorite classic; come along with me from AT

JAX:

i give him, the main character by will wood because i can definitely see him singing this to be a little shit as well as genuinely. kind of seeing him enjoy the song

not much to say here since im not totally sure what jax would listen to :(!

RAGATHA:

okay i know i just brought up jerryterry's kiss me kill me, but that reminded me of the original kiss me because it does give me ragatha vibes

KINGER:

stumped on kinger, but first song that comes to mind is able by jack stauber i have nothing to explain this, but i will partially blame me listening to jack stauber a lot to be the reason

ZOOBLE:

cant explain this one either, i think its the tone of the voice but also im getting back into the scary jokes and

yeah

anyways icicles by the scary jokes , i can just see it

GANGLE:

okay so this one is less of a "i can see gangle singing this" and more of a "this makes me think of gangle" but imma put it here anyway since i dont have any other ideas for her !

today today by jack stauber

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

[lunajay33]

Best Friend Pt.2🍂

Summary: Being best friends for years turned to y/n being left wondering if she did something wrong, why Seth left her alone after all their years of friendship

The glowing yellow eyes stared back at me and I didn’t know what to do, it’s eyes were wide with what I hoped was shock and not hunger

It walked towards me until it was so close I’d be able to reach out and rub its fur, it sniffed me and it’s tail swayed behind, it was happy and I was glad I wasn’t going to be a chew toy tonight…hopefully

I slowly reached out and ran my hand through its fur and it allowed me as it laid itself down with me following quickly

“You’re a big boy aren’t you?!” I said as it laid its huge head in my lap, I’ve never seen a wolf this size here before but he was beautiful

I continued to run my hand all through his fur feeling comfort, it’s warmth reminded me of Seth and all the worries returned, tears brimmed against my eye line

“I miss him, I don’t think I did anything wrong…maybe he realized how much better bella was and got sick of being around me” I sighed as I laid my body over his trying to calm myself

“I know you don’t know what I’m saying,I know he’s not sick though, whenever he’d be under the weather before I’d always got over and help so why would this time be different, and it hurts the most today, you see…every Friday we have a movie night and we’ve never missed it once…ever, and now here I am alone with a wolf in the woods” I cried just missing my best friend

I heard the wolf whine under me, maybe the wolf could sense how I was feeling he was like my support wolf in a way I suppose, he was making me feel better, getting all these emotions of my chest

I started feeling tired and the next thing I know is I’m seeing the trees above me and the dark night sky swaying above me then I was drifting off again

•*•*•*•

I woke up in my bed confused, last time I checked I was in the forest and now I’m here

I walked down stairs to see dad and Bella eating some breakfast which was rare to see from Bella

“Hey do you know how I got to my room last night?” I asked as I poured myself a glass of water

“Ya Seth came to the door last night carrying you, he said he found you asleep in the woods, he brought you up to your bed and left” dad said as he sipped on his coffee

“Oh really? Weird” I said as I left to go change in my room before school

•*•*•

School was a drag and thankfully it was finally over, I decided to go back out to the woods and maybe I’d find that wolf again and he’d help me forget Seth

I knew he was lying, if he was sick why would he be out in the woods and be able to carry me home

I dropped my backpack off when I got home and headed straight through the woods to the cliffs only to find Seth and a bunch of other people like embry, Jacob, Sam and more

“So you weren’t sick” I stated and they all turned to me

“Y/n…I….just let me explain”

“Seth you left me, alone, you missed our Friday night, did I….did I do something wrong?” I asked

“No you did nothing wrong and I’m so sorry, it’s me…I couldn’t see you things have changed” he said walking up to me he looked like a sad puppy

“What do you mean things have changed? Did you meet someone? Is that the reason?” I said feeling my lips quiver

“Oh god no, it’s just…” he turned to look at Sam and he nodded but I was confused at the interaction

“I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to freak out okay?”

“Um okay”

He stepped back and took off his shirt then his shorts

“You remember all those stories I’ve told you, about the ancestors of our people?”

“Ya I do”

“Well they are true” he said then he shook and the next thing I see is the wolf from last night and everything made sense

I threw my arms around his neck and buried myself in his fur

“Seth why didn’t you tell me”

“He couldn’t, it wasn’t safe for him to being around others at the start, plus I told him he couldn’t see you and he can’t disobey” Sam said

“But why are you telling me all this”

“You’re his imprint”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part.3<-

Part 3?

#twilight #seth clearwater #seth clearwater x reader #paul lahote #leah clearwater #jacob black #sam uley #edward cullen #bella swan #la push #vampire #werewolf

[rivertalesien]

Death is not the end.

The rusty creak of a weather vane cut through the quiet over the leaf-strewn grounds.

Staring at the words carved in stone, Clarke traced them in her mind, over and over, as she pulled at a handful of weeds and replaced the old dead flowers with the fresh-cut bouquet she’d bought at the little supermarket on her way to the cemetery. 

Death is not the end. Death is not the end. Death is not the end.

She thought about the cashier who’d wrapped the flowers for her, an older woman, maybe as old as her grandmother, someone who should have retired by now (but who can retire anymore, she’d wondered). The surgical paper mask had slipped down the woman’s nose several times as she looked down at the thin sheets of paper, the skin of her fingers worn almost the same.

Who were they for, she’d asked, absently, reaching for a strip of tape off an old plastic reel of Scotch.

Is it someone’s birthday? Spooky time of year for it.

Clarke shook her head and smiled, reaching for a packet of Wintergreen chewing gum. Her heart was skipping and the sudden stops were making her dizzy.

“Oh, it’s a date, huh?” 

“Sort of.” 

Sliding her card through the reader, she declined the receipt and gave a short thanks to the woman, who adjusted her mask and eyed her as she took up her purchases and made a slight gesture with one hand.

“It’ll get better, you know. It always does.”

Clarke was unsure what the cashier might be referring to: maybe she was thinking of the pandemic, maybe she thought someone was ill. Nodding, she pushed gently at the double doors and stepped outside, moving smoothly past a neglected pile of small pumpkins resting on hay bales.  

Reaching for her keys Clarke took a small breath, grateful that the skies were still clear even if it smelled like rain was on its way and the trees were drizzling red and gold around her car.

It’ll get better. It’ll get better. It always does.

Death is not the end. 

Then what is it?

She shook slightly and remembered where she was.

Touching the engraved L and E and X and A, as if her fingers could reach through the letters and caress the person this once was; a face she hadn’t seen in three years, a voice she hadn’t heard, a kiss she hadn’t shared with anyone else.

A grief that wasn’t going away.

“I love you, Lex. I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do.”

It was dark by the time she left and the leaves were piling high on the grass, crunching beneath her shoes like old newspapers.

She could still smell the rain on the way, but something had shifted. She was tired. Bed would be easy tonight.

As she started the car and drove off, the weathervane creaked again.

And changed direction.

*

“I know it’s a bad time, Clarke, but I was wondering if you could come in for just a bit on Monday? I’ve got someone I think you’d be good with and maybe it’d be good for you. Just call me back when you get this. Love you.”

Clarke deleted her mother’s message, tossing her phone on the saggy green couch before flopping down in Lexa’s old leather armchair. It had been her dad’s and she’d lugged it around from Navy dorms to small apartments until it had finally found a permanent home in the little Craftsman they’d bought six years ago. Clarke laughed a little to herself. For something she was so devoted to, Lexa had rarely sat in it. She just liked the aesthetic of it. And that it was her dad’s.

They’d lost their fathers at almost the same time, both men working in different parts of the same building, both unable to escape when a bomb went off in a bathroom and took out nine floors in just under two minutes. Clarke had received a single text: I love you, sweetheart, hours before she’d finally answered all the missed calls, still trying to avoid Finn, and couldn’t stop crying for days afterward.

They had met at the memorial service, where the President gave a speech that rang hollow and bitter and hypocritical and Lexa was forced to stand at attention with her squadron and salute the man who had helped ignite and fund the war that led to the terrible tragedies that seemed to be plaguing random cities all over.

Clarke had noticed her outright, recognized her from the news reports, though she looked more polished than the footage of her in a flight suit, giving a press briefing from an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic somewhere.

Commander Woods’ elegy to her father had been through clenched teeth and pain, perhaps only partly from the wound in her shoulder, where she’d taken two slugs from an enemy rifle only three weeks before. Standing before the congregation in the Sixth Avenue Church, Lexa had first said the words Clarke couldn’t get out of her mind, even now, almost ten years later.

Death is not the end.

Finn had shown up, though, uninvited, wanting to pay his respects, wanting to apologize, again, wanting Clarke back, again, and it was Raven who surprised him and dragged him out, offering Clarke a small apology as they left. She had just wanted to get some air, to be alone, to not listen to her mother grieving with all the other widows and to expel Finn’s presence for good. She could hardly picture her dad, even with his photo on the tall easel. Nothing felt real.

She hadn’t expected to see the rumpled military figure sitting on a small bench under the church’s stone lichgate, tugging at the knees of her uniform trousers, as if irritated with the material. She hadn’t expected her eyes to be so soft and gray or how quiet her voice could be. They’d sat together under the small shelter as the rain fell and the world slipped away.

Curling up in the chair, Clarke lingered in that memory: how an hour had passed and then another and how phones rang but no one answered them and how, when the rain let up, Clarke made sure Lexa followed her home.

Always staying a few steps ahead, sometimes turning to look back, never speaking, not even when they got to the door.

Clarke left it open as she stopped in the middle of the empty living room and waited as the door was closed and long fingers pulled down the zipper of her dress, then the straps, smooth over her shoulders, as a gentle breath warmed her cheek. As arms slipped around her and held her tightly, groping her breasts, as lips pressed rough and sweet at the wild pulse in her throat.

She could always smile at the memory of that first time, both in terrible need of something, anything to bury the ache, to feel anything but their pain. How they clutched and clung and held on for dear life as they lost themselves in one another and found it too perfect to stop. She could remember every detail: the color of the ceiling, the contrast of Lexa’s jacket, the polished shoes kicked into a corner as she was lifted, laid against the table, almost eaten alive, almost until she was screaming.

It was torture now, remembering how Lexa felt, how her hands shook, the glint of her watch, the scent of her shampoo, her red-rimmed eyes staring up at her from between her legs as she burrowed into Clarke’s soul through her cunt and made her forget.

Days of fucking and sleeping and so few words passing between them; that’s how it was, until Lexa had to return to assignment, had to fly off into hell and gone and how they had both shuddered, almost painfully, at that last time, in the back of the rental, where Clarke had bit her so hard it left a scar under her ear and they cried in frustration at one last release, slotted so hard and hot between them, pressing until it hurt, hoping the hurt would make goodbye easier.

But it wasn’t and it didn’t and it only took three years to get a yes out of her, and a ring, and a place for her dad’s chair.

Reaching between her thighs, Clarke ached now, worse than any ache she’d ever known, and pressed into herself until the ache settled a little and she could lose herself in sleep.

Outside, the rain fell.

*

“Oh god you’re soaked. Come in, quick.”

Clarke held the door open as Raven entered, dripping but smiling, holding what looked

like a bag of groceries.

“I was in the area, thought I should visit. Wow, Clarke. What have you been doing?”

Shaking off her jacket, Raven made a slow inspection of the living room, noting all the piles of books and boxes and empty fast food bags.

Hanging up her friend’s coat, Clarke shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself as if cold.

“Just thought I’d do some spring clinging, dust, you know.” 

“Well, it’s October, and aren’t these Lexa’s?”

Picking up a dusty volume, Raven flipped through the pages.

Clarke dropped back into the leather chair and nodded.

“Yeah, I just thought I’d maybe go through them. Figure out what to keep.”

“She really had a library, huh?”

“If you want something, just, go ahead.”

Raven stopped and looked back at Clarke, curled up in her spot, a red-wine throw draped over her shoulders. 

“Hey, I stopped at the Dragon and brought some food. I got those noodles you like and the chicken. We can eat and I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’m okay, Raven. Really.”

“You haven’t been to work for a week.” 

Clarke sighed and pulled the throw up to her chin.

Why does everyone have to fuss?

“I’m fine. I get down sometimes. I’ll get over it. I’ll be back at work on Monday.”

Kneeling by the chair, Raven picked invisible lint off the blanket.

“Abby said you were thinking about quitting.”

“It’s got nothing to do with Lex. I’ve been thinking about taking up painting again and I just need a little less stress in my life. That’s good, right?”

Raven nodded.

“You’d really walk away? I mean, it’s kind of been your life, Clarke.”

Gritting herself, Clarke took a calming breath.

“I haven’t decided anything yet, I just need some time to do that. I need something different, Raven. I’m not like my mom. I’m not like Wells. They just don’t get it and I’m tired of having to explain it. I’ll be fine. I just need…something else.”

She was everything and she’s gone and took everything with her.

Rubbing at Clarke’s covered foot, Raven attempted a smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m not here to pile-on. Come on. Let’s eat and sort some books.”

*

It was after midnight when Raven left, taking a box of books with her.

Clarke had tried to offer Lexa’s piano, but Raven doubted it would fit in the car and doubted further that Clarke really wanted to part with it. Music was Lexa’s first love, even if her dad and the military put it second and it was a love she shared with Clarke through mix tapes and play lists and old vinyl and late night slow dances in the kitchen.

In such moments they would dream up names for their fantasy lounge act, with Clarke draped across the piano like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys, but all the good ones were taken and Lexa had read where the actress had to wear knee and elbow pads for the scene, so the idea was often floated around but then abandoned by the time they reached their bed.

Sitting at the dusty keyboard, Clarke tried to remember a few notes Lexa had taught her, an old Billie Holiday song she’d always loved.

Ask the sky above And ask the earth below Why I'm so in love And why I love you so Couldn't tell you though I tried do Just why I'm yours

Resting her head against the top of the fallboard, Clarke’s hands stilled and her eyes closed, and in her mind she could see Lexa beside her, playing quietly, never looking up from her hands as the melody unwound itself from the instrument.

When you went away You left a glowing spark Trying to be gay As whistling in the dark I am only what you make me Come take me I'm yours

She remembered it was Halloween and she’d forgotten candy again and the clock had stopped and the rain had stopped but the music was too gentle and comforting and she could hear it clearer now, imagining a warm shoulder against hers, moving.

How happy I would be to beg or borrow For sorrow with you Even though I knew tomorrow You'd say we were through If we drift apart Then I'll be lost and alone Though you use my heart Just for a steppin' stone How can I help dreaming of you I love you I'm yours

The song ended and she felt herself breathless with racked sobs that wouldn’t stop, even as strange, familiar arms held her and rocked her, silently, and clear gray eyes met hers and nothing was real but everything was real and she felt her heart sinking and rising so painfully it might have been shock: the unspoken wish, fulfilled.

“Are you here?”

No sound, only graceful caresses across her cheeks, her temples, through her hair, and those eyes that saw through everything and said everything.

“Are you here?”

Silence again, then something like a smile.

“Do you want me to be?”

Tears were catching on her jaw, dripping into her neck and Clarke felt herself laughing. Maybe she was dying. Maybe this was the end of everything.

She pressed the longed-for face between her hands and the answer frozen the air between them--until their lips deliquesced in yes after yes after yes.

#clexa #clexatober23 #based on Truly Madly Deeply #I'm Yours lyrics by Richard Millen #tbc if anyone wants #ghost stories #clexa fanfic

[guacala]

Bella ramsey x reader and them doing cute tiktoks and couple trends pls pls pls!!!

tiktok headcannons, bella ramsey

masterlist pairing: bella ramsey x fem!reader summary: you and bella on tiktok word count: 769 warnings: language, fluff overload a/n: girl, i don’t have tiktok so i just based it off what i’ve seen, and i'm so sorry if its bad 😭 also, this is compensation for my met gala brainrot on monday, i'm so sorry...

you would 100% be the one to get tiktok, and Bella would just not care for it

like we’ve all seen how horrible people can be towards Bella on social media, and if we’re being completely honest, tiktok is extremely toxic too

so yeah, I think that they would be fine with you having it, they just didn’t want it on their mind

you, like the rest of the fucking world, would’ve gotten tiktok during the pandemic

it was a last resort, okay? everyone was bored and desperate and your mental health was already shit

you didn’t even post anything till the pandemic was relatively over (spring 2022 ish), and you rarely ever posted anyway

whenever you did post though, it was stupid shit you decided to do with your friends, usually some strange trend that seemed to cure your boredom for a bit

that was around the same time that you met Bella, but you made sure that you never posted them

obviously, since you were attached at the hip from the moment you met, there were some slip-ups

it was known that Bella was dating someone, but nobody knew who you even were as Bella would only refer to you as “my partner” in interviews

you wouldn’t even know how people found your account, but stalkers will stalk and trolls will troll 

yeah, that definitely made you stop posting completely and it wasn’t till after the last of us finished airing that you finally felt comfortable enough to post again.

you wouldn’t normally post Bella on any of your social media, but there were instances where you just had an urge to, and, well, Bella had a hard time saying no to you

you definitely made that one tiktok where you have the phone and you pass it up to Bella and you turn around to hug them (x)

“can you hold my phone for me, please? i need to tie my shoe” you would ask one day when you’re out late, walking around after going to dinner.  “yeah,” they said as you handed her the phone above your head. they looked at the camera a bit confused. they were used to you taking photos and videos, but it was facing them, which was highly unusual. while they were in their confusion, you took advantage of the fact that their arms were still up and straight, and turned around to bury your face in their chest.  their face immediately melted, and they stopped grabbing the phone with both hands and wrapped their arms around you. “you’re so cute, i love you,” Bella said quietly, but it could still be heard in the video with the black screen. “i love you more,” you could be heard responding. “not possible,” they said as you giggled and responded by saying “possible” as they kissed all over your face.

they would also 100% be the okok to your lala

“Bells?” you had said as you laid your head on their stomach and you both scrolled mindlessly on your phones. “yeah, my love?” “you’re the okok to my lala.” “what?” they giggled as they sat up a bit, looking down at your face. you shrug as you say “you heard me”. “nooo, what does that mean?” they whine as they pinch your side, and you let out a small sound in protest. “nobody really knows, it just is.” “that makes no sense!” “yeah it does!” you say loudly with a smile on your face.  “no!” “okay, okay, look at this and sing what you hear,” you say as you pull up the sound and turn the camera to you. “baby, you’re not making any sense,” they say as you start the video. “just do what i said,” you demand as the music starts and they playfully roll their eyes. they start singing “okokok” in their beautiful voice, as you start to mouth “lala la lala” and they look at you in shock. “how does that even work!” Bella yells as you throw your head back and laugh as you end the video. 

you also did that one that goes “tell me how you know your boyfriend won’t cheat on you without telling me that your boyfriend won’t cheat on you”

and it honestly just became a combination of photos and videos of Bella being clingy and text messages that went along the lines of:

bella: i miss you :( you: i saw you an hour ago bella: your point? you: omg, okay, i miss you too :/

yeah, everyone was obsessed with the two of you

as they should be, of course

#bella ramsey #bellaramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey fanfiction #bella ramsey fanfic #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey headcanons #the last of us #tiktok #requests #lgbtq #bloopbloopbloop10