#and that’s just apparently never going to be a thing again for what i’ve chosen to do

[bbrissonn]

𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 - 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢

summary: in which no matter how much you tried, you were never good enough for him and you decide it was time for things to get messy within the hockey team

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  

pairing: luca fantili x reader

wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)

a/n: i gave some guys on the team a girlfriend, completely random name so don't go trying to find them lol

guts masterlist

I am light as a feather, I’m as stiff as a board

I pay attention to things that most people ignore

And I’m alright with the movies

That make jokes ‘bout senseless cruelty, that’s for sure

And I am built like a mother and a total machine

I feel for your every little issues, I know just what you mean

And I make light of the darkness

I’ve got sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket, best believe

Yeah, you know me, I

You tried, you really did. You took note of every little things he’d mention, hoping that it would be useful in the long run, hoping he’d noticed how much you cared about him. You waited and waited and waited, but it never happened. All the efforts you made to be the perfect girlfriend for him always went unnoticed, brushed to the side. 

You always made sure you looked your best whenever you’d go to his game, wanting to fit the role of the stereotype hockey girlfriend, even though you were far from it. Your body wasn’t as slim and fit as the others and you didn’t have a model like face, but Luca always though you were perfect. You didn’t believe most of time, there were hundreds of girl, prettier girls, that would jump at the occasion to be his girlfriend, so why had he chosen you? 

You went to every single home game, even if it’d meant you’d have to stay up late to do homework, you even went to the games at Michigan State. You were always there to support him, but he was never there for you. You knew it was hard for him to always be free, not having access to his phone for a solid three hours during the afternoon, and when he’d get back to his dorm, he’d fall asleep right away. You never really saw him much during the days, with him having all his classes in the morning, while yours were mainly in the afternoon, nights were the only time you could see each other. 

Even when you spent time together, it was rarely alone. He was close to all his teammates and apparently spending all afternoon together wasn’t enough for them and they always needed to spend their nights together. You two barely ever got alone time, but you tried not to think about it too much since Luca was always more focused on you than his teammates sprawled around his shared dorm room. 

His teammates liked you, you were nice to all of them the moment you met them and they could see how much Luca liked you. Some of them didn’t really understand what he saw in you, something you wish you didn’t know as you overheard them one night during a get together at the senior house. 

You had been outside for a while now, talking to your mom on the phone as you walked around the small backyard of the senior house. Luca was with you for the first couple of minutes of your call, talking to your mom a bit before heading back inside and letting you have alone time with her. As you started making your way back to the backdoor, you saw a couple of figures standing there, nothing unsual. You were planning on just walking past them, smiling at them and letting them go along with their conversation until you heard your name. 

“Wait, who are we talking about again?” Dylan asked the others, before taking a sip of his beer. 

“Y/n.” You heard Johnny answer, and you stopped dead in your tracks. You knew you shouldn’t, it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. They couldn’t see you since you were on the side of the porch, and no lights were they, you were like a ghost. 

“Oh, yeah, totally agree with you man. Don’t get me wrong, she’d nice and all, but like she barely ever talks.” The Duke boy said, making a couple other guys agree with him. 

“Exactly, what does he even see in her, anyways?” One of them said, making your smile drop. 

“She’s just shy, doesn’t like big groups, that’s all. Once you get to know her, she’s always talking, it’s great ‘cause Luca leaves me alone now. She’s makes him happy, that’s all the really matters.” You recognized Adam say, making your smile grow a little. Over the last six months, you had grown quite close to your boyfriend’s little brother, and hearing him defend you warmed your heart. 

“Dude, all we’re saying is he could do better.” 

“Whatever, I’m going back inside.” Adam said, and soon you heard the door open and all the figures disappeared. You stood there for a while, thinking about everything that you had heard. Your feelings being hurt a little before shaking it all off and walking back inside, quickly finding your boyfriend, who was standing with his brother. 

You never told Luca, or any of them that you had heard their conversation. You knew Luca would get mad at his teammates, and that was the last thing you wanted. You did realize that after that night, Adam started being even nicer to you, always telling you how happy you made your brother, and how thankful he was that you were the one making him this happy. He truly felt like your own little brother in a way.

But something in you changed that day, whenever you’d be having the smallest interaction with any of them, there would always be a voice in the back of your mind reminding you of that conversation. So, you didn’t make much effort to become good friends with any of them, clearly most of you didn’t even think you should be dating their teammate so why would they want to be friends with you? 

Luca wasn’t exactly happy that you weren’t that close to anyone, but you were with Adam, so he considered it a win. He always reminded himself that just because his teammates were his best friend didn’t mean they had to be yours too, he just happy none of them hated you. 

As time went by, you’d now notice some of the weird looks his teammates would give themselves whenever you’d hug Luca after their game, or when you’d be with him at a party and his arms was always around you. But you didn’t let it bother you, you were happy in your relationship, you didn’t need the opinion of other’s, and honestly, they didn’t really have a right to be judging two people for being in love with one another. 

You didn’t know whether or not your boyfriend knew about how some of his best friends felt about your relationship, but you really hoped he didn’t. If he did, it would break you, that he knew what his friends were saying and thinking, but didn’t defend you like his brother had, or that he hadn’t told you about it. 

That all changed one cold night in February.

You were currently standing outside of the Yost arena, Luca had texted you barely minutes before telling you to go wait outside for him. You didn’t really understand why, considering how cold it was, but you did anyways. No one else was around, all the spectators had left almost an hour ago, and all the other girlfriends were waiting inside, in the warmth of the arena. 

“Hey.” You heard your boyfriends voice, making you turn around with a bright smile. 

“Hi, baby. You played amazing!” You told him, rushing over to his warm body and hiding in his arms. The boy chuckled a bit before wrapping his arms around you. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” He mumbled after a couple of seconds, making you pull away from his body. Your hands reached down to his arms, that had fallen from your shoulders, your mittens covered hands holding his bare ones. 

“What’s up, loves?” You asked, only to be met with a sigh from him. Your smile dropped right away, what was going on? 

“I need you to know that I am sorry, okay?” You nodded slightly, confused as to why he was saying that. “I think it’d be better if we weren’t together anymore.”

“What?” 

“I just- I need to focus on hockey, and school.” 

“Oh.” You whispered, your hands letting go of his and falling next to your body. A heavy sigh left your mouth as you tried your hardest not to cry. “O-okay.” 

“So, we’re good?” His question broke you. Not you weren’t, you were far from good. The boy you had fallen in love with in early September had just broken up with you, how were you supposed to be okay with that?

“We’re good.” You lied. Luca smile brightly before giving you and small hug, and before you knew it, he was gone. You were left all alone outside in the freezing cold as he headed back to his friends, ready to enjoy their night, while you were left heartbroken. 

Maybe his friends were right after all…

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American

The next week was hell, everywhere you went, you’d see one of his teammates. It was like they had all mutually agreed to just be everywhere you were, follow you around just to make you remember every single second of every day that your relationship with Luca was over. 

But clearly he hadn’t even told him, the text from Adam asking if you two had gotten into a fight since you hadn’t been to their dorm in a couple of days, and Luca was talking about everything but you. Your feelings were hurt a little, that he wasn’t even acting like your break-up fazed him at all, like everything in his life was perfect. It hurt even more that you had to be the one to break to news to his brother, scared that Adam would choose to break off all links of communication the two of you had. 

Luckily for you, he didn’t, if anything, to him it just gave you an extra reason to become even closer to him. He knew how much you loved his brother and how much Luca loved you, so he truly didn’t understand why his older brother had done it in the first place. Just because you and Luca weren’t together anymore, didn’t mean you had to lose him too, were his exact words. You knew in that moment that you had a real friend in Adam, one that you wanted to keep for the rest of your life. 

You hadn’t gone to any hockey game after that, no matter how much Adam begged, you weren’t ready to go back to the place where your relationship ended. But when the team had made it to the semi-finals of the big ten championship, facing off again Ohio State, you knew you had to be there. Even though you weren’t physically at the games, you were still watching from home, your heart dropping every time Luca’s name would be mentioned. 

Being back felt weird, it was a place you had grown so fond off, watching your boyfriend and your so-called friends play the sports they love with each other, befriending all the other girlfriends, it was truly special. But it was so different now, you felt like you didn’t belong here anymore. Adam had tried to convince you to seat in the same seat Luca always had for you, but you didn’t want to, not wanting to face all the other girlfriends yet. 

You came with your best friends, so you wouldn’t be alone, and made sure to be near the back rows, you knew the boys always liked to spot people in the crowds, and you didn’t want them to know you were here. You had made Adam promise not to tell anyone you were here, and that you’d wait for him after the game in your car all the way at the end of the parking lot. He was the only one on the team you wanted to see tonight, you came here for him and only him, and because your best friends wouldn’t shut up about going. 

Unknown to you, Luca had spotted you the minute he stepped onto the ice. He hated to admit it, but his eyes still searched for you in the crowd, only he was always met with disappointment when he would not find you. Tonight was different, you were here. Part of him felt like he should be happy you were, or even sad, seeing as it was the first he’d seen you since the break-up. But he wasn’t, no he was angry. Why? He didn’t know. 

After the game ended, with Adam getting two goals and two assists, your friends had gone home right away, tired from all the yelling they had done during the night. So, you waited alone in your car, making sure to park right under a street light so Adam could spot you easily, and so you could see if any weirdos were approaching. 

Luca had left before his brother, Johnny and Gavin walking next to him as they walked out of Yost, and that’s when he saw your car. He knew he should’ve just ignored it, kept walking home, but he couldn’t. He knew you were here for his brother and him only, Adam had told him after Luca corned him after the warm ups. The right thing was to just leave you alone, pretend he didn’t see you, but his legs were moving faster than his brain was. 

The loud knock on your window made you jump, yelping at bit at the sound. You looked to your left, only to be met with an angry Luca. You bit your lip slightly before rolling down your window enough so you two could hear each other. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked. His tone was harsh and mean, something you had never heard from him before. 

“I am here for Adam, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to step away from my car and leave me alone.” You answered him, matching his tone. If he wanted to be a bitch to you after he broke up with you, then he better be expecting the same energy back. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“And who are you to be telling me this? Last time I checked, this is a public parking lot, so I have every right to be here.” You said, you knew that wasn’t what he meant, but you didn’t care. He had no right to walk over here, and talk to you like this. 

“You know that’s not what I fucking meant.” 

“Am I not allowed to cheer for my school? Is that illegal now, Luca?” You said harshly. Luca’s eyes were staring into yours, and you could tell he was holding back from yelling, which scared you a little. 

“You have some nerves-” 

“Oh, I have some nerves? You broke up with me, Luca, not the other way around, and your stupid if you think that’s gonna stop me from coming to see Adam play. I am not here because I wanted to see, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Adam. So, get whatever stick you have shoved up your ass out of it and leave me alone.” You said firmly before closing your window and going back on your phone. Luca started knocking over and over on your window, but you didn’t move. You were done with this for the night. After about a minute or two, the boy ended up sending you a text, making you roll your eyes. 

Luca 

ur so fucking petty omg, grow the fuck up and get out of your car

You let out a scoff before turning to look at him with a ‘are you serious’ face. If you were being petty, you didn’t even know what word was describing him at the moment. Thankfully, Adam arrived and the two of them began bickering like little children until the older boy eventually walked away, not before sending you a death glare, and the younger one joined you in your car. 

You started driving immediately, neither of you talked, but you feel Adam’s gaze on you every once in a while. This was exactly why you didn’t want to come to the games before, something was bound to go wrong. 

“I am sorry.” He mumbled after a couple of minutes as the car was stopped at a red light. When you turned your head to look over at him, his eyes were already looking in your direction. 

“It’s whatever. He’s an asshole.” 

I am light as a feather, I’m as fresh as the air

Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair

I got class and integrity

Just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear

With love to spare, I

About a week later, you were laying in bed, your laptop on your lap as you watched the team celebrate their win. Adam had played wonderfully and you couldn’t be prouder of him. Your heart still dropped a little every time the commentators would mention Luca, and even more when they showed the boys after the game. 

You knew it was wrong, you shouldn’t be thinking this way, but you couldn’t help it. He looked so good with his slightly damp hair, the wide smile on his face as he hugged all of his best friends making you smile as well. But you quickly reminded yourself of what he had done and said, making you close your laptop in a heartbeat. 

You then sent a text to Adam, congratulating him for their victory before going to bed. Well, you just laid in bed in the dark, your phone’s screen being the only source of light. Adam answered you almost an hour later, thanking you and saying he’d call you the next morning. You went to sleep not too long after answering him, wishing him a good night and a safe flight home. 

It was almost noon when the younger Fantili boy called you the next day, you could tell he had gone to bed very late, well early this morning. His voice was still a little stuffy like he had just woken up, making you giggle. The two of you chated for a while before he informed you the hockey team was throwing a party that was pretty much open to all students. He hadn’t invited you directly, but made sure to state very clearly that you were always welcomed if you wanted to stop by for a bit. 

You almost laughed at his words, he was a little delusional if he though you’d like the spend the night with your drunk ex who’d probably be making out with a girl the whole time. He was a little sad when you told him you probably wouldn’t come, but he understood, especially after whatever Luca had said to you last week. 

Weirdly enough though, as the clock hit seven at night, you were standing in your bathroom, getting ready for said party. Why? Revenge. You knew deep down what you were about to do was fucked up, but you didn’t care. They deserved it, all of them, Luca more than the other, but they still did. All those people who pretended to be your friend, only to act like you didn’t even exist the moment you and Luca broke up. Not to mention that conversation you over heard was constantly replaying in your head since your break-up. Yeah, they deserved it. 

Realistically, your plan wasn’t that mean, you’d just be ruining a night celebrating a victory they had worked so hard for during  the whole season. You had gotten some information through Adam that the boys always “shit talked” some of the other girlfriends, of course without mentioning what you had heard from them. Long story short, at least one of them all had a problem with someone’s girlfriend, but they never said anything to the boyfriends. Pretty fake in your opinion, because truth be told, they weren’t really brothers like they always said, they didn’t like some at least. 

When you walked into the senior house, the place wasn’t that full, but this wasn’t any surprise to you considering it had started almost four hours ago already and most people had probably went home by now. Finding Adam was pretty easy, he was in the kitchen refilling his cup when you gently tapped his shoulder. A wide smile appeared on his face when his eyes met yours and his arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 

“You came?” He asked surprised as the two of you pulled away and he grabbed an empty clean cup for you. 

“Got a little bored, I guess.” You told him, filling your cup with water. You hadn’t came here to get drunk out of your mind like all the others here, you came here with an endgame. 

“Well ‘m glad you did. I think I saw that girl you always talk about from your English class, you-” 

“Cool, I’ll go find her!” You lied before walking away from him. Honestly, you didn’t really care that she was here, your eyes not bothering to find her as you walked through the house, spotting the group of girlfriends immediately. They were all chatting between them, but quickly stopped when they realized you were standing there. 

“Oh, please, don’t let my presence disturb your little conversation.” You said with a smirk, only making all of them look at you with weird looks. 

“What’re you doing here?” Ethan’s girlfriend, Hailey, asked. The two of you were never really close, same with Nolan’s girlfriend, Taylor. 

“I just really wanted to say how it’s so cute that you’re all able to be friends with each other and like one another, unlike all the guys. Real cute.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” This time it was Jacob’s girlfriend, Bianca, who spoke. You looked over at her, sending a massive grin before answering. 

“I am just saying, some of them are real good at pretending to be your friends, but then go shit talk about you to each other.” You said, before showing them the text message Adam had sent you. It clearly stated that they all talked about the other guys’ girlfriends badly, but never in front of whoever they were dating. Clearly just showing that they’re “we’re brothers” thing they’d always say whenever a new girlfriend was introduced was complete bullshit. 

“How do we know it’s not fake?” 

“It happened to me too. Heard a couple of them talking about me outside one night. Go ask your boyfriends if you don’t believe me.” You shrugged before walking away from them. A smirk was plastered on your face as you stood outside, sipping on your water, knowing the girls were confronting the boys at the same moment. 

You were standing outside for a couple of minutes before Adam joined you, giving you a stern look.

“What’d you do?” 

“Nothing.” You said, your smirk only growing as you looked inside, the house now empty of all the strangers. The only people left were the players and their girlfriends, who all looked like they were not having a pleasant conversation. Well, that was until all the guys started yelling at each other. 

“Y/n.” Adam mumbled sternly, making you roll your eyes. 

“I just told them the truth. About how you all talk shit about them behind their backs, but then none of you have the guts to say it to each other. I mean, why would they right, you couldn’t tell me or Luca.” Suddenly, you found yourself angry at the boy in front of you. He had let both you and Luca that your couple was loved by all of them, let you believe they were all your friends. His face turned white at your words, only making you scoff. 

“Y/n…”

“It’s pathetic really, all that bullshit about you guys being like brothers, but then you pull some shit like this.” You cut him off. Right as Adam was about to say something else, the sliding door behind you opened and your body was pulled inside the house.

Forgive and I forget

I know my age and I act like it

Got what you can’t resist

I’m a perfect all-American Bitch

With perfect all-American lips

And perfect all-American hips

I know my place

I know my place and this is it

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Someone asked as you now stood infront of everyone, all the guys looking at you with angry eyes, while the girls all hugged each other, some of them crying. 

“I think the real question here is, what the fuck is wrong with all of you? Talk shit behind our backs and then acting like your our friends five minutes later. If you don’t like someone, don’t fucking pretend like you do and then shit talk them when they can hear you.” You spat, your eyes looking between all of them until you spotted Luca, who was standing all alone in a corner. “Hoping that your “brother’s” goes to shit ‘cause you don’t like who they’re dating. Seriously, how old are you? How insecure of yourself do you have to be to say things like this?” 

The house was silent after, all the girls were nodding at your words. The boys, well at least the guilty ones, all looked at the ground, while the innocent ones looked angry and pissed, but not at you anymore, at each other. 

When none of them said anything for a solid minutes, you just scoffed and made your way out of the house. You had done what you came here to do. You started walking down the sidewalk, back towards your dorm, when you heard someone call out your name. You turned around, only to see Luca chasing after you. 

“I didn’t know, I swear-” 

“I know you didn’t, Luca.” You cut him off with a soft smile. 

“I didn’t break up with you because of them. I really like you, I really do. You’re amazing, Y/n. But, I just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” He explained, your smile turning into a sad one. 

“I get it. I want you to be happy, Lu, and if that means us not being together, then I’m okay with it.” It pained you to say it, but it was true. All you wanted for the boy was to be happy, and if that meant you having to leave his life, you were okay with it. 

“‘M not saying never, though. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Like… I don’t how to explain it-”

“Right person, wrong time?” You asked with a slight smirk on his face, making the boy in front of you smile slightly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me know whenever the right time comes, yeah?” You asked softly, the boy nodding slightly before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry about how I broke up with you, you deserved a better explanation.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he let his body relax. Your right hand moved up, cupping his cheek and you could feel him lean into your touch. 

“It’s okay, Lulu.” 

“But it’s not. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done it that way. And I shouldn’t have came to your car and talked to you like that. I am so sorry, baby.” He said, as snow started falling from the sky. You could tell how deeply he meant his words, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Hey, look at me.” You whispered, gently tapping his cheek that you were still holding. After a couple of seconds his eyes opened and stared right back at yours. “It’s okay. It’s in the past.”

“You should hate me.” 

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Luca.” You admitted, bitting your lip gently as the boy smiled down at you. “I really need to go home.” 

“I’ll walk you.” 

“It’s alright. I think they need you more than I do.” You said, nodding towards the senior house, making Luca sigh a bit. 

“Always have to clean up your mess, don’t I?” He joked, making you giggle slightly. 

“I’ll see you around, Lu.” You mumbled before pressing a kiss to his other cheek and walking away from him. The Fantili boy stood there for a bit, a smile on his face as he watched you make your way back to your dorm. Once you disappeared at the end of the street, the boy turned around and slowly started making his way back to the house. 

When he walked in, all the girls were gone, and the boys were now just all yelling at each other. Some were trying to calm the tension that was rising in the room, but didn’t succeed. Only, when Luca walked in, the room went quiet and everyone looked at him. Luca’s eyes found Adam’s, and the younger boy immediately knew what had happened out there, well almost. He for sure thought they had gotten back together, but he was close enough. 

“God, don’t tell me you got back with her?” Johnny said harshly, making Luca’s smile flatten as he looked over to his “best friend”. 

“Why do you care? Last time I check, who I date isn’t any of your business.” Luca sassed, making his younger brother smile slightly. 

“She ruined the night!” One of the guys called out, making Luca roll his eyes. 

“She said the truth. Maybe if you guys hadn’t talked behind their backs, none of this would’ve happened. I’m going home.” The boy mumbled before leaving the senior household once again, Adam following behind him. 

“So, are you guys back together?” The forward asked after a couple of minutes of them walking back to their dorm. 

“No. But, in the future we will, I know it.”

All the time

I’m grateful all the time

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

Oh, all the time

I’m grateful all the time (Greatful all the fucking time)

I’m sexy and I’m kind

I’m pretty when I cry

When summer came around, you had promised both Fantili boys you’d keep close touch with them, especially Adam since he’d be heading off to Columbus next season, which pained you a little, but you were happy for him. 

As the months passed by, you and Luca talked more and more every day, something Adam noticed and was quick to bring up to his brother. Luca was smiling at his phone all the time, and overall was just in a better mood than when you two had broken up. The older brother shrugged him off, claiming he was imaginating things, but they both knew it was a lie. 

You were over the moon when you arrived in Michigan, only to find that both brothers were already there, and a time to meet was quickly set. During your little hang out, it was clear to Adam that you and Luca were truly meant to be together, you both had giant smiles whenever you’d be talking to the other. For a majority of the night, it was mainly just the two of you in your own little world, but Adam didn’t care, Luca was happy, you were happy, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

“Don’t fuck this up, dude.” Adam whispered in his brother’s ear as the two of them hugged goodbye. Luca had admitted to him that he was planning on asking you out soon, something that almost made the younger boy scream. 

“I won’t.” And he didn’t. He asked you out, again, and you said yes, again, a week later. The two of you were just hanging in your dorm, you were complaining about how much homework you already had when he just blurred the question out. You were a little shock, but quickly agreed. 

When Luca told his teammates the two of you were back together, he received some questioning looks, but he just ignored them. He thought you were perfect, and that’s all that mattered to him. He didn’t care if his friends didn’t like you, he did and they’d need to learn how to deal with you being around even if they didn’t like you. 

You made him happy, and that’s all they should care about.

#bri writes #guts series #luca fantilli #luca fantilli imagine #luca fantili blurb #luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli fluff #luca fantilli angst #umich hockey #umich hockey imagine #umich hockey angst

[verperina]

It Was Just For One Night

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader 

Summary: What was only supposed to be a one-time thing turns into a two-time thing.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 5,662

Authors Note: This is my first time writing in a while and my first time writing for Throne of Glass/SJM’s work. I’ve never published anything on here before, so please don’t be too harsh. I hate the dialogue and the smut, but oh well. Massive credit to @autumnshighlady for helping me with the smut and for being so kind.

You feel the faint touch of a phantom hand ghost along the skin of your bare back, leaving goosebumps. You suppress a shudder. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face, making your heart beat faster. You raised the glass of red wine to your lips and swallowed a mouthful down, trying to appear calm with your father standing beside you, conversing with another lord. They were talking about something that you had no interest in or care enough to act like you were listening to them.

His eyes were on you. Watching you. Always watching you. You finally let your eyes meet the king’s gaze and they were filled with pure hunger and desire. His sapphire eyes slowly trailed the entire length of your body, taking in the dark navy satin dress that had been gifted to you this morning. You weren’t even aware who had gifted you the dress, but it was obvious now. From the way his lips twitched and the hunger in his eyes became more and more apparent.  

It had only been a month since you and Dorian had slept together. A drunken fueled haze that had been filled with pure carnal desire. It was a one-time thing. You knew it would never happen again, but it didn’t mean that you would if it did. He had been a very generous and a very passionate lover. Making sure that you had found release, multiple times, before finding his own. When he finished, he asked if you were okay, dressed himself and left your chambers and that was it. You weren’t expecting anything after. It would be foolish to think so. 

You were surprised that the king had chosen you of all people to bed. You had heard that when Dorian was still the prince he was a harlot, so surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone more appealing since he’s the King of Adarlan.

After that night there were times when both of you would be in the same room and you would make yourself never look in his direction, or he would talk to your father about diplomatic matters and rather quickly, you would excuse yourself. You didn’t want anyone to find out. You could only imagine the scandal it would cause.

An older man was talking to Dorian, and the king nodded his head, pretending that he was listening. His crown gleaming in the light, rings decorating his long fingers, dressed exquistely, and seated on his throne full of pride. He was beautiful and he knew it too. 

You forced yourself to divert your gaze, focusing instead on the people dancing to the music and the decorations that adorned the room for the Yulemas ball. But you felt it again. That phantom touch. And this time, it wasn’t faint. It felt more apparent. More forceful. 

The touch stroked the length of your spine before landing on the curve of your backside, trailing downwards until it reached the back of your thigh, and gave a soft squeeze. You purse your lips as your hand clenches the stem of the wine glass, face warming, and you quickly glance at your father and the other lord, making sure they weren’t paying attention to what was happening, before looking back toward Dorian to see his eyes were still on you. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smug look on his face.

Arrogant prick. You couldn’t believe he was choosing to do this in a room full of people. Especially with your father right next to you. You shot a subtle look at Dorian, but it only seemed to amuse him. He cocked his head to the side, a mocking gesture, daring you to do something. The tension was starting to become too much. 

You swallowed.

“I’m going out to the garden for some air,” you said quietly to your father. He waved his hand in dismissal and continued his conversation with the man. You placed your glass down on the nearest table and began weaving your way through the crowds of people, careful to not get anyone’s wine on your dress. You could feel Dorian’s gaze burning through the back of your head, following your every movement. 

When you walked outside you inhaled the air, welcoming it into your lungs and letting the cold breeze cool your flushed body. Everything had felt too warm and crowded inside that room. Too overwhelming.

Snow fell from the sky, landing on the ground and kissing it a beautiful white. A few snowflakes landed in your hair. The wind was lightly blowing, making your skin prickle. You pulled a single rose from a bush, careful to not cut your fingers on any of the thorns. The rose was a deep, luscious shade of red with soft petals. You lifted the flower to your nose and inhaled its sweet and floral scent. There was a soft crunch in the snow behind you. Footsteps. You didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to. 

“That is a very beautiful dress,” Dorian said, his voice smooth. You turned your head to the side and met his gaze. Pure mirth in his stare. His raven black hair shining in the moonlight. “You look rather flustered.”

You kept your face blank, feeling a small hint of annoyance starting to bubble up inside of you. “Are you mad?”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “No, ‘Your Majesty’?” 

A roll your eyes. “Are you mad, Your Majesty?” 

He grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.”

"My father was right there,” you huffed. “He could have seen. Anyone could have seen.”

“Yes, but no one did.”

“I’m not an exhibsionist.”

“I apologize, my lady.” He gave a mocking bow.

“Is this a game to you?” You ask, turning to face him fully. 

His brows slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun. We both did,” you explained. “It was a one-time thing, so why did you give me this dress and why did you do that in there?”

He was quiet for a moment, studying you, and then asked, “What if I want it to become a two-time thing?”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” You say cautiously. Surely he wasn’t serious.

“I get to enjoy your presence once more,” he answered. “I rather enjoyed myself the last time.”

You try to hide your surprise, but he caught it. You kept your eyes on him, furrowing your eyebrows, and wondered why he wanted to sleep together again, with you, when he could have anyone else. You weren’t completely turned-off to the idea. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it.

In the dead of night, you would let your fingers slip inside your wet cunt and fantasize about his hands wrapping around your throat, his teeth tugging on your nipple, and his cock thrusting inside of you. The sound of his groans and your moans, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You felt a flutter low in your stomach. Your throat bobbed.

“We could enjoy each other’s company once more.” 

“What if someone finds out?” You cross your arms across your chest. “It would make things difficult for you, but mainly for me.”

“The guards wouldn’t say anything,” he reassured. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Surely the presence of your absence has been noted.”

“I announced that I was retiring for the night and told everyone to continue partying.”

“What if someone sees?”

“Everyone is too busy drinking and dancing,” he paused for a moment, looking you up and down, noticing that your body was stiff. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you not want to? If not, then it’s fine, I don’t mean to place pressure on you.”

You could tell that Dorian’s words were genuine. His face was soft and patient, waiting for you to respond. “I want to,” I admitted. His eyes became bright at your words. “I just don’t want to complicate things.” He waited for you to continue. “You’re the King of Adarlan; I don’t think people would be pleased to know that you’ve bedded me. I would probably be seen as a woman who tempted the king for money and power, as a whore.”

“It's no one's business what I do, or what you do. I am the king. My guards know to keep their mouths shut, especially the ones that are stationed outside my chambers. If anyone does find out, you can come to me and I’ll deal with it.” 

You thought about it for a moment, weighing your options, and glanced around the garden to see that it was still empty. You met his gaze once more and nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. His voice came out low, taking a step closer to you. 

“Yes.” You licked your lips, and his eyes trailed the movement. You took a step forward, glancing at his lips, tilting your head upwards and parting your lips slightly, giving him permission to kiss you. His hand came to cup your face, his thumb lightly stroking the side of your cheek while his other hand settled on your hip, giving it a hard squeeze.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, and it was then that you could feel the hardness of his cock through his trousers. You leaned your head forward, feeling his breathe as your lips were about to connect-

You jerked back as you let out a low hiss of pain as one of the thorns sliced into the tip of your index finger. A bead of blood pooled at the cut, making your skin sting. Dorian plucked the flower from your hand and brought your finger close to his face, his eyes inspecting the small cut and then he looked at you, a sly look on his face.

“You need to be more careful, dove.” He brought your finger to his lips, pressing light kisses onto the skin slowly, as if savoring the taste of the salt on your skin mixed with your blood. His tongue replaced his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your breath hitched and you could feel wetness start to pool in between your thighs. His teeth harshly nipped at the skin, making a small noise escape your throat. “Dorian,” you moaned quietly. “Please.” Your toes curled. He tossed the rose on the ground, releasing your finger, and brought your lips to his. 

His lips were cold but soft, and you ran my hands through his thick hair, your nails lightly scraping his scalp. You swallowed the groan that left his mouth. His hands are roughly squeezing your backside, pushing you closer to him. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth as you pressed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the aching tension.

“Not here,” you breathed.

He nodded and grabbed your hand, walking both of you out of the garden and through a door that had no one near it, and led the two of you back inside the castle. You had to walk fast to keep up with the strides of his long legs. The halls that he led you through were thankfully empty, not even guards were positioned in the hallway, it looked like any rarely came through this way. He squeezed your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles. 

The hall to where his chambers came into view and the guards stationed outside didn’t so much as flinch as Dorian neared the door. They only gave a respectful bow to their king, averting their eyes, and pretended to not notice that his hand was interlaced with yours, or that his lips were swollen, and the tanned skin of his cheeks were flushed.

He pushed open the door and led you through his room, quickly closing the door. You stopped in the middle of the room and noticed it was rather untidy; books were open and lying on his desk and the table by the sofa, his bed was unmade, and a few of his clothes were on the floor. But it smelled like him. So much like Dorian.

Your back was facing Dorian, his footsteps sounding closer, the sound of his crown being placed gently on a table, and then he was right behind you. His front pressed against your back, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin, making you meet his gaze, sapphire eyes were blazing. His forehead rested against yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

Your breathing was growing heavier.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand released your chin, moving your head back to its original position and his free hand came to rest on your hip. His hand then wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly, and tilted your head back. Dorian’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear before his teeth tugged on the lobe of your ear, biting gently.

The hand on your waist moved until it was settled right above your pelvis, pushing you back so you could feel his cock. You slightly shifted your hips, grinding your ass on his hardened length, and you were pleased when a low groan left him.

He left a trail of rough kisses down the column of your throat, teeth occasionally nipping and harshly sucking on the flesh, marking you as his. Quiet moans escaping your lips as you let your body lean more into him.

The thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Phantom hands came to cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your dress, squeezing before pinching your peaked nipples, hard. 

A hiss left you, arching your back away from his body, but his hand pushed you back against him and held you tightly, and grabbed your face again, placing his lips on yours. The tip of your tongue meeting his own. Heat bloomed in your core. He bit your bottom lip as he removed the dress from your body and let it fall to the floor. You turned around, arms snaking around his neck and pulling at the thick strand of his hair. 

Both of his hands grabbed yours as he pulled his lips away from yours, breathing heavily, and guiding you toward his large bed. His cheeks were a flushed red and his once neat hair was messy from you dragging your fingers through it.

You climbed onto the bed and sat up on your knees, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again. His hand came to cup the side of your ass, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching before a harsh smack came down, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Your body jolted forward and you let out a loud, breathy moan. You felt yourself becoming more aroused. 

“You like how that feels?” Dorian asked. Another harsh smack came down, on the opposite side this time, when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you groaned, head tipping back in pleasure.

“I’m going to take good care of you.” The words sounded like a promise.

You tugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. You took off his tunic next, revealing the pale line on his tan skin from where the collar had been, and strong, firm muscle. Your hand came to cup his cock through his black trousers. Dorian hissed, eyebrows slightly creasing together in pleasure. You press light kisses on the pale part of his neck, sucking harshly, leaving love bites of your own and running your tongue over the bruised flesh.

He grabbed you by the neck, putting his lips back on yours. His kiss was deliberately slow. Teasing. Savoring the taste of the red wine on your lips. His fingers are pulling at the hair at the nape of your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his length against your stomach. Fingertips pressing into the curve of your neck as his tongue sweeps over your mouth. 

You moan into the kiss, feeling his phantom hands squeezing your ass, tracing the band of your underwear. His fingertips brush over your nipples. They’re cold with his ice magic. You shiver and his mouth curves in delight. The tip of Dorian’s nail grazes the hardened bud before he bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth. Your underwear is sticky with your arousal.

He keeps his eyes on you, watching how your head tips back, how your lips part as you begin moaning breathily. He rolls your other nipple between his thumb and index finger, leaving goosebumps on your skin from the coldness of his flesh. He sucks roughly, moaning around the bud as you pull at his hair, and then he tugs at your nipple with his teeth. His tongue laps over it before he begins sucking again. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him grin in satisfaction.

Dorian releases the abused flesh and he starts repeating the same motions on the other nipple, but this time it’s harsher, more animalistic. His hand starts trailing down your stomach and then cups your clothed cunt. A chuckle leaves his lips at what he found. “You’re so wet.” 

He dips his hand in your underwear and runs a finger through your folds. You start to slowly move your hips, rubbing your clit on the heel of his palm to relieve the aching tension. “Stay still,” he warns, “or I’ll stop.” You groan in frustration, but comply, hesitantly. He circles the entrance to your hole, gathering the wetness that had pooled there, and then slips a finger inside of you.

Your back arches the same time as you let out a choked moan. You clench around him, fighting the urge to rub your clit against his palm. Painfully slow, in a teasing manner, he thrusts his finger in and out. He takes his time in stretching you out. Your voice is husky as you say, “Kiss me.” You open your eyes to see that he’s already looking at you. Pure desire in his gaze. 

“Kiss me,” you repeat again. He obliges. There’s nothing gentle or soft about the kiss. It’s messy and fast and rough. Your teeth are clashing against each other, desperate to taste each other. Your breaths are labored, trying to breathe in more air.

He enters a second finger and when you gasp, he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders before brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

“Since that night I’ve thought of doing this again,” Dorian admitted. “I fucked myself to the thought of you. Imagining it was you stroking my cock.”

His words made you clench around his fingers. You could picture it. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the pillows, and his hand gripping his cock, squeezing hard. His groans coming out hoarsely, loudly. There was a sense of triumph in knowing that you had made the King of Adarlan fantasize about you. It was satisfying. 

“So have I,” you also admitted. 

“Tell me,” he demanded.

You swallowed. “I shoved my fingers inside my cunt and wished that it was yours instead. I thought of your tongue on my cunt, of your hand around my throat and your cock inside me.” 

Dorian’s fingers thrust faster the same time phantom hands tug at your nipples, a warm feeling blooming low in your stomach. Your moans were coming out in short gasps. “Dorian.” Your fingernails leave marks on his broad shoulders and your head tips back. “I’m so close.” The pressure that had been building was becoming more intense. He whispers words of encouragement and praise. 

And with a curl of his fingers you cry out, arching your body into him as your orgasm hits you. Your breath comes out in stutters, your body jerking and your knees trembling. His phantom hands help keep you upright. He coaxes you through it. And when your moans cease, he very slowly removes his fingers from your cunt with a squelching sound. 

He brings them to his face, inspecting the wet sheen on them. Dorian smiles. “Look at how soaked you are.” Your arousal coats his entire hand, dripping down to his wrist. And while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he puts his digits into his mouth and tastes your juices. Your breath hitches. His sapphire eyes darken considerably. 

The palm of his hand rests on your collarbone and he gently pushes you until your back is lying on the bed. He reaches forward and rips off the lacy material of your underwear. After tossing them across the room he takes a step back and greedily takes in the sight of you; a thin sheen of sweat is covering your body, your nipples are red and swollen from where he sucked and bit on them, and your cunt is dripping wet. 

“I need you,” your voice snaps Dorian out of his daze.

He starts to undo the button of trousers and pushes them down, removing his undershorts also. He steps out of them quickly and tosses them aside, and his cock slaps against his abdomen hard. You take in the sight; the fine patch of dark hair, the tip of his cock is red and leaking with his arousal.

You lick your lips, desperate to have his cock in your mouth. The previous time you fucked each other, you only briefly got to lick him, and you had forgotten what he’d tasted like.

He wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a firm stroke. He hisses. “You see what you do to me?”

Dorian walks forward, kneels on the bed and uses his phantom hands to restrain your wrists to the mattress. He lowers himself between your legs and an almost pained look crosses his features as he stares at your core, wet and gleaming for him.

It was a slow torture, him slowly kissing the inside of your thighs, nipping at skin and leaving love bites. His thumbs draw circles into your hips, and you keep squirming, wanting his tongue on your most sensitive part, but he seemed keen on the idea to tease you.

“Dorian,” you rasped. He would continue teasing until you begged for it. It’s what he wanted. You held his gaze and watched as he waited, a grin was on his face, but you could see his body trembling with restraint to keep himself from ravishing you. “Please.”

He cocks his head to the side, mockingly, and his grin is feline. “Because you asked nicely. . .”

Dorian took a long, languid lick up the center of your core. You let out a moan in relief and your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding up and down you, tasting you thoroughly. He peppers kisses along your cunt before he starts licking again. 

One of his hands comes up to pinch your nipple and you buck your hips against his face, but he throws an arm across your waist to keep you still. He wraps his lips directly around your clit and you cry out as he starts sucking the sensitive nub. You struggle against the phantom hands that bound your wrists. You want to run your fingers through his hair grind against his face.

Grabbing your thighs, Dorian drapes them over his shoulders to hold you closer and keeps his eyes pinned to your face. He wanted to watch you come on his tongue. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling ever so slightly. 

“Right there,” you gasp.

You watch as he presses his hips hard against the mattress and begins rutting against it, a soft groan leaving him and it vibrates through your core.

You try to free your hands from his magic, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.” You look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me touch you.” Finally, those phantom hands release their grip on you.

Your body writhes and your fingers rake through his black hair to push him closer, nails scratching along his scalp. Your cries of pleasure encourage him to keep going. His teeth scraping your clit is what makes you climax. His fingers quicken their pace, tongue moving faster, letting you ride out your high.

It leaves you trembling with needing more, but Dorian removes his tongue and fingers from you and leans back on his knees. His eyes linger on your abused cunt before he looks at you and you stare at him, too. Blue eyes full of adoration. His hair was in disarray, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and his chin and lips were coated with your arousal but he didn’t seem to care.

He looked devastating.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around so you were on your knees, ass in the air, and the side of your face was pressed against the sheets. His hand left a hard smack across your ass cheek making a yelp escape your lips. Dorian’s hands once again grab your hips to bring you close to his face, and his fingers tease your entrance, and you arch your back, urging him to bring you another orgasm again.

He laughed teasingly. “So eager, dove.”

He sticks his tongue inside of your cunt and your entire body shudders. He moans, as if this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. The taste of you was going to haunt him after this was over. The essence of you would haunt him. 

He presses his fingers inside your leaking hole and the pace is fast, desperate to draw a third orgasm from you. Dorian wanted you to come again, and again, and again. He needed you to come again. 

Another harsh slap to your ass has you moaning out his name. Your hands clutch the sheets tightly and you rock your hips against his face, and unlike last time, he doesn’t try to make you stay still. He lets you grind yourself on his face and makes his phantom hands rock your hips to move them faster. The tips of his fingers would leave bruises from how hard their grip was.

Lewd noises were coming out of his mouth and your face warmed from the sounds.

Your body trembles as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly and you feel yourself come again. A loud cry echoing against the walls of his room. He hums against your cunt, letting the vibrations further stimulate you. It isn’t until your whimpering that he finally relents. You’re panting, strands of hair clinging to your forehead, and your knees give out beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Dorian praised. He presses a kiss against your spine. And then another. His hand rubbing your red backside from the slaps he gave. His ice magic soothing the tender skin.

“Dorian,” you mumble.

“Are you okay?” He asks, running a strong hand down the length of your spine gently. Your skin prickles.

You manage a weak nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you murmur. Your eyelids were heavy and the perspiration felt sticky on the nape of your neck.

He helps turn you around so you’re laying on your back. You drink in the sight of him and he does the same. Dorian’s lips were shining with your arousal and his cock looked painfully hard. You wanted to kiss him. You reached out a trembling hand, and he eyed it before taking hold of it and leaning over you, bracing his body weight on his elbows. His nose brushes yours softly.

“Kiss me,” you breathe. He brought his mouth to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You were both frantic and desperate, and didn’t want to pull your mouths apart from each other. 

You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along the sharp cheekbone as your other hand played with the strands of his hair. His body was trembling and whatever self-control he had left was slipping away.

You reach a hand down, gripping his length and give it a lazy stroke. He makes a soft noise at the touch, slowly moving his hips as you start pressing kisses onto his collarbones. His forehead resting on top of yours, eyes closed and savoring the moment. You run your thumb over the slit, gathering moisture before giving a gentle squeeze that makes a low growl leave Dorian. That last bit of self-control was completely gone.

He takes his cock and lines the head of it up with your cunt and in one motion, he fully sheaths himself inside of you. A sigh of contentment leaves the pair of you. His pace starts off slow, languid. Your hips roll against his, trying to find a rhythm that matches. His hands roam over the sides of your body before landing on your plush hips. Fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Tell me how you feel.” He licked the side of your throat.

“Good,” you pant. “So good.” 

“You like me being inside you?” His tone was teasing, mocking, but you could hear how gravelly he sounded.

“Yes.” 

He presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. Tongue flicking over both nipples. Your legs lock around his trim waist, bringing him closer to you and you clench tightly around him, and his hips jerk, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from you both. Your head tips back in bliss and your entire body is buzzing from pleasure.

Dorian’s eyes were a shade of blue so dark they looked like the freezing cold waters of the sea. He moans out your name like a prayer and dips down to kiss you again, as if one isn’t enough. Your hands run up and down his chest, the tip of your nail scraping his nipple. His thrusts were becoming rougher, deeper, more punishing than before. Your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.

One of his phantom hands started rubbing your clit and a low pressure was beginning to bloom in your belly, making a breathy gasp leave you. The walls of your cunt start contracting. Hot, heavy, open-mouthed kisses leave a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. It was messy. Both of you were moaning into each other’s mouth. Both of you sounded so needy.

Dorian buried his face into the crook of your neck. A cry left your lips as his teeth bit down on your skin. His thrusts were brutal, each one bringing you closer to the edge, hips snapping into yours hard enough that the headboard was banging against the wall. He obviously didn’t care if someone heard. And neither did you. The fingers on your clit were moving faster and your body was shaking. “Please, please, please. . .”

That familiar coil settled in your lower abdomen snaps. Your back arching off the bed as you come, the walls of your cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck. Nails leaving red marks on his shoulders and down his back, and toes curling from the overstimulation.

Dorian fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder and his thrusts harsher; he was going to come. He breathes out a desperate, pleading noise, leaning down until his forehead is pressed against yours. He fucks into you harder. The sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the room. You give him words of encouragement, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

He comes with a deep, guttural groan. His hips stuttering. And you feel his seed spill into you as he rides out his high, fingertips gripping your hips so tight bruises would probably appear. His thrusts start to slow down before eventually stopping, and he pauses for a moment, panting heavily, before collapsing on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer.

You brush back the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead. Both of your bodies are shaking and slick with sweat. His breath tickles your skin. 

There were no noises in the room anymore save for the sounds of both of you gasping for air, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Dorian’s fingers loosened their tight grip on your hips and rubbed the flesh tenderly. A sigh of contentment left you. A passionate and generous lover indeed.

You could feel him start to grow restless. You unlocked your legs from around his waist and he gently pulled out from you with an almost inaudible hiss, and rolled onto his back right beside you, trying to catch his breath. The air in the room grew cold, his magic cooling the both of you off.

Your limbs felt heavy and you could feel his seed spilling out from you. You closed your eyes for a moment, still feeling the tingling sensation all over your body. Deep down you knew that no one would ever fuck you as good as Dorian just had. You didn’t know if this would happen again or if people would find out that you had fucked their king.

A small part of you inside felt sad knowing that you would be staying at the castle for only one more month before leaving to go back to your city. But you knew it was just sex. You didn’t expect anything more. It would be foolish to.

You could feel Dorian’s eyes burning into the side of your head, his lips parting, “Perhaps we should do this again.” The words were spoken nonchalantly, but you picked up on the tinge of nervousness. “Make it a three-time thing.”

You lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, making yourself appear calm, and felt a grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

#dorian havilliard #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard x you #throne of glass #sarah j maas #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fandom #tog #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sjm fandom #maasverse #dorian havilliard smut

[danibee33]

More Simon “Ghost” Riley brain rot because I’ve been in a car for 8 hours 🙃

But this time, make it undercover!Ghost🩶

(inspired by “Billie Bossa Nova” by Billie Eilish - reader goes by callsign: “Hela”)

+++++

•thinking about Ghost being absolutely livid that he’s the one chosen to attend the event- some ritzy, wildly overpriced and stupidly exclusive, art exhibition.

•”You’re the only one that they wouldn’t know- they can’t recognize a face they’ve never seen. We’ve already talked about it-“ Price pinches at the bridge of his nose, sitting behind his desk, sitting in the same exact position he was in an hour ago, trying to convince his lieutenant that it truly was a last resort.

•Ghost huffs out a rumbling sigh, only just barely fighting back the urge to roll his eyes- the military bearing far too engrained in him to disrespect a superior officer. But really, he knows it’s because he respects John too much as a friend.

•and he’s just about close the door behind him when he hears the older man’s voice again, “Hela will be your second.”

•sure, he could try to argue like he so badly wants to, but judging by how far he made it with this, he wouldn’t be getting the answer he wanted either way.

•it’s not that the 141’s newest lieutenant was incompetent or incapable, no, you were far from either of those things.

•you were smart, a great leader, and even better in a team than he could ever dream of being. you had only made them better-

•but you were a fucking pain in his ass, with your annoying and, at times overbearing, sunshine fucking personality. Your habit of wanting to learn things about him and the others just to see them perk up a bit, though you’ve yet to figure out what makes Ghost not look like a walking rain cloud-

•and it had taken them months to figure out how the hell you got such a dark and foreboding callsign such as Hela, Norse fucking goddess of death- it didn’t make any sense, there was no way, right? No way someone so sweet and chipper could be that brutal.

•boy, how wrong they were.

•you were downright certifiable on mission, merciless on the battlefield, with your laughter trickling through the radios after a particularly challenging kill- there was something wrong with you, but he guesses that’s why you fit in so well with the rest of them.

•they were all a little fucked up in the head. You had to be, to do what needs to be done, to do all the terrible things no one in their right mind could do.

+++

•when the night arrives, Ghost is left staring at his own reflection, and it physically pains him to leave the comfort of his balaclava laying on the bathroom counter- even though he knew Price had made sure to limit his exposure to only the bare minimum, it didn’t make it easier.

•”You’ll meet Hela inside the venue, she’s in a black, floor length dress, red purse, hair up.” He nods at his captain’s words, committing the details to memory as he slides into the back seat of the blacked out SUV.

•the ride blurs by, he doesn’t pay attention to anything going on outside, preferring to focus on the parameters of the mission; it would be mostly recon, some light pick-pocketing, a little slight of hand, a cellphone full of intel procured-

•he certainly doesn’t dwell on how excited you were to had been to go undercover, or how you had talked fucking relentlessly about the dress you picked for your “007 moment”, as you so lovingly to referred to the mission- and to his surprise, Johnny had apparently helped you pick it out.

•and there’s no reason whatsoever for that fact to have made him want to wring the Scot’s neck.

•Ghost steps out the car at the curb, straightening and buttoning the fitted, black tuxedo jacket- the grimace on his scarred lips doing a well enough job of carving a path through the sparse crowd.

• “C’mon, LT- ye could try ta’look like ye spent an obscene amount o’money ta be here.” Johnny playfully drawls through the ear piece, “and lemme tell you-“ he pauses to give a quiet whistle for effect, and this time Ghost doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back, “Hela is lookin’ real bonnie, aren’t ye, lil’ LT?”

•”Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Ghost grunts back, eyeing the upper windows of the surrounding buildings before waltzing through the grandiose entrance-

• “Hm, I thought it was nice.. thank you, Soap.” You say, and he swears he can hear the smile in your sultry tone. The one that you just love to use on comms.

•Johnny gives a low chuckle, “Ye’re very welcome, ma’am.”

•Christ fucking alive. Ghost is in hell, he’s sure of it.

•but then, he sees you. And at first, he’s not entirely sure he’s even looking at the right person- because, of course he’s seen you in civilian clothes, even some more form fitted PT gear; and he’s always had a hard time dragging his eyes away from you even then. Right now, though?

•right now, he’s ardently staring at your profile, studying the lines of your face under the soft glow of the museum lighting- the way your glossy pink lips are parted just slightly as you look up at the painting in front of you, your fingers daintily clasped around a flute of champagne, a deep red leather clutch in your other hand.

•something compels him to blend back into the crowd, silently moving to take you in from all angles, his eyes roaming and lingering all the same-

•and it’s at that moment he realizes Price severely understated your “black, floor length dress”. Yes, it was all those things, but fuck.. a warning would’ve been nice-

•he also decides then that he will wring Johnny’s neck- because if he helped you pick this? well that means he’s already seen too much. And Ghost couldn’t have that-

•the dress you chose is fitted like a second skin, high neck and long sleeves, entirely modest and yet.. it manages to leave so, so little to the imagination with the way it hugs every single curve- but it’s the back that causes an awful flicker of arousal to make his cock twitch.

•the back is completely, and gloriously, exposed- from the petite span of your shoulders, all the way down to the godforsken pair of dimples that decorate the lowest curve of your spine before the fabric meets together again right above the delicious swell of your ass-

•it takes everything in him to stay on track, to keep aware of his surroundings as he makes his way to your other side. It’s only then that you finally turn towards him, certainly having felt the weight of his gaze. But by the time you crane your neck to search the crowd, he’s already out of sight.

+++

•you scan over the strange and unfamiliar faces, unable to shake that feeling of being watched- it was probably just nerves, you knew Ghost would be with you on this, which means you’re well aware that he would be maskless tonight.

•and you really should not be so excited- this was still a mission, you shouldn’t be thinking about him.. shouldn’t be imagining what hides beneath the balaclavas-

•you’re so lost in the thought you can’t help to but gasp when you hear the familiar, brassy voice in your ear, “Spotted the target.”

•you barely stifle another gasp when you feel the sweltering heat of his palm suddenly pressed against your lower back- and you don’t know why the touch sends a rush of chills down your spine. Maybe it’s just knowing you’re finally about to see the ever enigmatic man’s face, or it could just be how comfortable he seems putting his hand on you like that.

•but when you try to turn, he holds you in place, the hand that was at the small of your back, moving to the gently hold the nape of your neck,

• “Wait..” He whispers, an odd mixture of authority and desperation in his tone.

• “Why?” You ask just as quietly, your eyes fixed ahead, but the beautiful art is lost on you now, too consumed by his proximity- by the standoffish brute of a man who had only looked at you like a nuisance for months. It’s ridiculous, what you should really be asking is why you care so much-

•but you don’t think you would know the answer to that, not for sure anyway; maybe it was that you craved his approval- you had earned it from literally everyone else by this point, but his had alluded you. And you couldn’t fucking stand it.

• “Ghost?” You try to pry a little further, his callsign coming out a bit breathier than you meant for it to, but the way his thumb is rubbing back and forth, back and forth, so softly, so slowly.. it’s enough to drive you crazy.

• “Target’s directly to your left- cellphone in his right jacket pocket.” Without warning he removes his hand and brushes past you, taking with him the chance to see any of his features apart from the head of wavy, honey blonde hair that’s been messily swept back.

•and it’s the purposely careless movement that causes you to stumble, your crystal flute knocking right against the sturdy chest of the man that had just approached the painting,

• “Oh! Oh, my god- I am so-“, you slip the device from his pocket almost too easily, “so, sorry, sir.”

•it’s easy to distract him, flashing a bright, slightly nervous smile- bat your pretty lashes up at him, maybe let your hand linger a bit too long on his bicep..

• “‘M sorry, sweetheart-“ Ghost is back, and you have to force yourself not to immediately focus on his presence, instead noticing how he efficiently leans around you to slip the bugged phone into the target’s pocket.

•and again, it’s unsettling how natural it feels for him to snake a muscular arm around your waist, and god, the way he settles his big hand possessively over your lower stomach has your knees weak and an uncomfortable pressure building between your legs.

• “Just saw an old friend, and he wants to meet you, love.” He says it like it was the most normal night in the world, holding you like you could’ve been a couple- but, he’s just playing his part, right?

•after another round of apologies, Ghost promptly leads you away, your hand held firmly in his as he weaves through and around the small groups of people who couldn’t care less about you.

“Riley- hang on.” You hiss just as he turns a corner, finally far enough way to give the all clear to Price and Soap without concern of being overheard, but he’s still just ahead of you, his face still just out of view.

•you struggle to keep up with his monstrous strides in your outrageous heels, “That excited to get away from me, huh?”

•no, you don’t mean for it to sound so bitter, it was suppose to be a joke, but maybe it’s a little more honest than you care to dive into right now. But, it does finally get his attention, his feet coming to such an abrupt halt that you stumble right into the thick, solid mass of his back.

•he opens a door, quickly turning to walk you backwards into the dark room- slamming the heavy wood shut as soon as you’re both inside.

•with effortless speed, he pulls your earpieces out, shoving them him in his pocket, “what. the. fuck, Ghost? What are you doing?!”

• “Fucking hell, do you ever shut up?”

•you scoff into the darkness, his giant silhouette still looming over you- and with your curiosity too quickly turned to rage, you shove him backwards,

• “What’s your problem with me?” You have to stop yourself from shouting, you know you’re away from the party, but there could still be staff close by, “Well?! What did I do tonight except everything I was suppose to? Please, tell me what I did wrong, because I am so fuckin-“

•the last thing you expect is to feel his hands grasp either side of your face, and it’s completely unfathomable what happens after-

•Ghost’s lips collide with yours in a rough, hungry kiss, one that leaves you to stunned to do anything but let your body do what you’ve fantasized about one too many times.

•but too soon, he pulls away, out of breath and still gripping your face, “No, sweet girl, no. You’ve been perfect tonight, and you look..”

•you reel at his praise, your lungs seizing at the sound of the pet name on his tongue- internally cursing the lack of light for depriving you of getting to see his expression.

•Because you so desperately wanted to know what the actual fuck was going on and why it was happening right now.

• “-so bloody beautiful.. you’re fucking stunning, y’know that?”

•he kisses you again before you can even attempt to think of an answer, but this time you’re ready, turning your head to deepen the gesture into something dangerously close to sinful. Heated and passionate, you cling to him, letting your purse drop to the floor so you could wrap your arms around his neck.

•his hands wander, needy, yet so languid, you feel him trace the lines of your back, every touch delicately ravenous. And the fire you feel spread through your entire body at the simple skin to skin contact threatens your already very thinly tethered control-

•you take a step, then another, your hands now splayed out over his broad chest- pushing him until you both feel his back make contact with the door, his lips moving lower now, hands pulling you closer.

•the old light fixture crackles to life when you flip the switch, effectively freezing you both in this moment- crossing boundaries that could never be uncrossed, seeing each other in a way that couldn’t be forgotten.

•and you don’t know exactly why you keep your eyes clamped shut, even when you feel him lean back just slightly, though his nose still grazes across your cheekbone, and his fingertips are still dug into the flesh of your hips.

•your breath stutters when he presses a single kiss to your lips, the taste of champagne mixing with a hint of tobacco and peppermint, it was an odd combination, but you find yourself craving it already- what a terrible drug he is.

•without pulling away, he speaks against your lips, and you can feel the smile on his, hear the timbre in his voice, “It’s all right, love.. you can look. I know you want to..”

++++

>>>> {Part II}

PLS DONT HATE ME. I never meant for it to be this long, so I’m splitting it into two parts 😬 (unless I shouldn’t??)

#bee writes #call of duty #cod fandom #simon ghost riley #reader #I think about ghost in a tux waaay too often #cod fanfic #cod #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #john price #simon riley x reader #part one

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y’all. It’s been a rough month, so thank you to all of you who keep tagging me in spite of my silence. And for those of you waiting for new chapters to one of my WIPs, please forgive me. The good news is, I have a week off of work, and I’ll be able to put out new chapters of at least two of my WIPs, as well as the first post from one of those below that you haven’t seen. So stay tuned!

Thank you to : @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @nausikaaa, @wellbelesbian, @cutestkilla, @monbons, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @whatevertheweather, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @ic3-que3n, @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @alexalexinii, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,and @blackberrysummerblog for the tags over the last several weeks. 

On to the snippets!

From Saving Simon Snow: (slightly more than six sentences)

I don’t know what I expect when I look at him. Recriminations about my family? I’d deserve them. My father and aunt have been vicious and abusive towards my now-husband. I’ll never be done making that up to him. Or maybe he wants to actually talk about the events of the day? Yesterday, I mean, since the clock has clearly ticked over into a new day.

Whatever I expected, it wasn’t Simon’s blue eyes intensely boring into mine as he says, “Can I kiss you?”

From the Heart in the Well

“You–” I start, and my voice is a croak. I swallow, despite my horror at the liquid still laying on my tongue. I try again. “How could you?”

Simon looks apologetic, but his chin is jutting up nonetheless. “Baz, you needed it—” he begins. 

“You’ve made me into a monster!” I cry. 

From Snow Fox–nothing new this week. I'm researching my next chapter at the moment.

From TikTok Dancer: 

Normally, by now I’d be giving coy glances to my chosen partner of the night. I like to have made my choice at least an hour before we quit for the day, so I can make my interest known. It’s a bit of a dance in itself, this small courtship. 

Tonight, unless I find the courage to approach Baz again—why do I even remember his name? Most of the time I forget their names minutes after they say them—I’ll be going to bed without any release. Because nobody in the crowd has drawn my eyes today, despite several pretty people making eyes at me. 

I’ve only got eyes for Baz.

I don’t understand this.

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

One of the tools we rescued from the ship before it sank was a hand axe, and it’s honestly been worth it’s weight in gold. Half the building I’ve done in the last few years would have been impossible without it. I don’t need Davy’s voice in my head growling, “you break those tools, boy, I’ll break you.” I’m constantly aware of the fragility of the life we’ve built here. If I break an axe…no more building out of wood. If the island suffers a dry year, no fruit on our plates. If one of us gets sick…no doctors

From Cupid’s Shield:

My aunt Fiona loves recounting the time he showed up at Watford’s Valentine ball when she was a fourth year. She wasn’t old enough to attend, but she’d snuck into a secret passage that passed the ballroom to spy on her friends, who were fifteen because their birthday (they were twins apparently) was just before the deadline to attend. Reading between the lines, I think Fi was sweet on one of the pair and wanted to make sure he wasn’t making time with some other girl at the ball. 

According to my Aunt, Cupid just materialized in midair beneath the great chandelier, and, with a wicked grin, began shooting incorporeal arrows at every mage in sight. Fiona took great pleasure in recounting just who was compelled into snogging their sworn enemies or the girlfriends/ boyfriends of their best friends. Apparently the event was a source of endless drama over the next several months, and my aunt lives for that shit. 

Of course, my aunts’ maybe-boyfriend escaped unscathed, or I think she wouldn’t have found the whole thing so amusing.

From my COBB project:

“Director,” I say, “It’s good to see you.”

“And it’s wonderful to see you, my boy. In fact, your return just at this time could not have been more fortuitous.”

I know all too well what that means. My heart sinks into my shoes. I just got back…I haven’t even unpacked yet…

“Sir?” I question, directing every fibre of my being towards hoping the director is not about to say what I think he’s about to say. Of course, I’m not that lucky.

“We have a situation, Simon,” he says, letting his face fall into graver lines. 

Tagging: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, and @mooncello, @theearlgreymage, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost

#co/ws/awtwb #six sentence sunday #snowbaz #carry on through the ages #carry on reverse bang #cotta 2023

[cloudbersoo]

i like you | zb1 hyung line

synopsis: how zb1 hyung line would confess to you

tags: member x gn!reader, fluff, fluff, just fluff!!

my playlist while writing: dust by seventeen, about you by the 1975

word count: 1.2k in total

a/n: hi again! didn’t think i'd write again so soon but it’s raining and i was bored so here i am. i’d like to thank everyone who read my first fic, the likes made me really happy as i didn’t think that many people would’ve found it in the first place! thank you thank you!!!

kim jiwoong 

i think jiwoong probably approached you with the intent of dating you

so he would be quite straightforward with his feelings right from the begging

he always complimented you and flirted with you, so it wasn’t like his feelings weren’t obvious to you

he’d take you on a nice date and walk you home like a gentleman

would finally confess his feelings to you at your doorstep

your third date with jiwoong was coming to an end as you approached your apartment. every date with him has been better than the previous one. you were comfortable with jiwoong and he seemed like a great guy overall, someone you wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with. you were just waiting for him to make the final move. 

he was still holding onto your hand as you two stood in front of your door. he seemed to be in thought, looking at your intertwined hands. “thank you for tonight” he finally spoke. jiwoong raised his gaze to your eyes, keeping eye contact, as he took a step closer to you. “i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, and would like to keep going” he continued. his hands now finding their place on your hips.

“i really like you y/n, and i would love to be your boyfriend, if you just let me.”

zhang hao

hao wouldn’t make a big deal out of a confession

he’s pretty sure your feelings are mutual (i mean who wouldn’t like him back?)

so he isn’t stressed about rejection

thinks confessing his feelings to you is just one small step in a larger story

he just had to find the right moment to do it

since meeting hao through a mutual friend about a year ago, you have only gotten closer as time went on. people were usually surprised to hear the two of you weren’t dating, as you apparently acted like an old married couple. you never took such comments too seriously, and you would laugh about it together, while still deep down knowing there was something more than friendship between the two of you.

it was another movie night between you and hao, something that has become an almost weekly thing for the two of you. you had chosen a random romcom where the two main leads were friends, hopelessly in love with one another and had no courage to tell each other how they felt. zhang hao found it ironic that he was watching the movie with you, the person he has been in love with for some time now (and was quite sure you felt the same), and never had the courage to actually do something about the feeling you shared. 

“it’s kinda funny isn't it? we’re just like them.”

sung hanbin

unlike hao, hanbin would make a big deal out of a confession

he’d plan for weeks, asking help from his members

hanbin would be very nervous and would barely be able to sleep the night before

he just wants everything to go well

ends up surprising you with flowers and a speech about how much you mean to him

hanbin has been acting weird for a few weeks now, but you were relieved when he finally promised to tell you what had been bothering him lately. he had been very secretive about everything, when he had asked you to meet him in the park at eight o’clock, but you assured him you were going to be there. so there you were, exactly at eight, with yet any sighs of the boy. 

a few minutes later you recognised hanbin walking towards you. he seemed nervous, even from afar. he was hiding something behind his back as he approached you. he greeted you, giving you a sweet smile to hide his nervousness. his hands sweaty, he revealed a bouquet of flowers behind his back, handing them out to you. surprised but happy, you accepted the bouquet as hanbin finally spoke.

“i don’t know where i should even start… you mean the world to me y/n.”

seok matthew

matthew lowkey confessed to you by accident

he would be telling you about his day as normal

then he would blurt out something that would reveal his true feelings to you

and you’d be a blushing mess and be like “what?”

he’d noticed his slip out too late and decides to just tell you everything

it was a normal evening for you and your friend, as you talked about your days. telling each other all the good and bad, relieving stress in each other's presence. matthew loved telling you about his friends' antics at the dorm or at practice, telling you whatever comes to his mind first. he was like that, he had basically no filter around you. 

“...and then hanbin pointed out i always find a way to include you in a conversation, which is true but he had no right to point that out as someone who’s totally obsessed with hao hyung! and then guess what? they started teasing me about how much i love you-” he suddenly stopped, noticing you frozen where you sat, face completely flushed pink. realising what he had just said, his face soon matched yours.

“oh, well… i guess it was sooner or later i would’ve told you anyway…”

kim taerae

would confess to you with a song! (cliche, i know)

there was an open mic event at a local cafe that you made taerae to participate in

he would start his last song by saying it was dedicated to you

the song was the most obvious declaration of love anyone has ever heard

he’d be super shy as he approached you after the show (so don’t keep him waiting for an answer too long or he’ll explode!)

there weren’t often times when your best friend would leave you speechless, but tonight was one of them. he had just sung the most beautiful love song you have ever heard, and he had dedicated it to you in front of everyone at the cafe. this might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done to you, and you doubt it would ever be topped. your heart was racing, you never knew your friend could have such an effect on you. 

“thank you” you heard taerae say to the mic, finally exiting the stage. applause filled the room, a shy smile entering his face. you could see taerae’s friends going up to him to congratulate him. he eventually dared to look at you, still very shy, knowing the conversation that was waiting the two of you. you could hear his friend’s whistling, as taerae finally had the courage to approach you.

“so? did you like it?”

- end

#zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 jiwoong #zerobaseone jiwoong #kim jiwoong #kim jiwoong x reader #kim jiwoong fic #zb1 zhang hao #zerobaseone zhang hao #zhang hao #zhanghao #zhang hao fic #zhang hao x reader #zb1 hanbin #zerobaseone hanbin #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin fic #zb1 matthew #zerobaseone matthew #seok matthew #seok matthew x reader #seok matthew fic #zb1 taerae #zerobaseone taerae #kim taerae #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae fic #kpop #cloudbersoofic

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 6

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: Dinner with Francesca and August; plans are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: Light dom/sub behavior, drinking, oral sex (m receiving), implied unprotected p in v sex, fingering, anal sex, implied torture.

Word Count: 3.6K 

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: The last three songs (16-18) now belong to this chapter.

Francesca

I knew August was looking for information. He was more agitated than usual and it was apparent he had an idea now that someone had infiltrated his organization. He began to call on me at the most inopportune moments, and I couldn’t tell if he was hoping or not to catch me in a lie. I did hear him trying desperately to convince Mateo his misgivings about me were wrong. I needed to put a stop to any hint of Sy sniffing around, if only to help prove Matteo wrong. August asked about the FBI when we had dinner at his home one evening.

“I’m glad you were able to get free tonight for me, Francesca.”

“August, you know I always come when you call. I’ve had to shuffle a few things around at the gym lately, and they’re starting to get annoyed, but I guess I can always find another studio if I have to.” I took a sip of the wine August had chosen to pair with our meal, tipping my tongue out to catch a small drop of red, drawing his eyes to my lips.

“You know I don’t mean to cause any hardship for you. I wouldn't want to take you away from anywhere else you’d rather be.”

“Now, where else would I rather be, baby, besides right here with you when you want me?”

“Heard from that old ex of yours lately?” August asked, keeping an even voice and betraying with a raised eyebrow only a small hint of the jealousy that I could sense was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Is that where you think I’d rather be? August, you wound me.”

“Francesca. Have you seen him again since he first contacted you?” It was clear August suspected, but I didn’t think he really knew anything. Not now that he’d discovered the guard he had on me had been less than observant on probably more than one occasion. I gave him an answer that I could tell shocked him.

“Yes.” 

August waited for me to elaborate and I continued almost immediately with barely a hesitation.

“He came by the gym one day. My class was canceled and I was on my way out. He invited me to dinner.” I paused then, and gauged his reaction. I wondered if he could feel me doing so. “I declined, if you care to know.”

“There’s no need to be a brat about it. What night was this?” he asked me.

“It was a day, August. Middle of the day.” When I told him what day it was, he clenched his jaw. “You can call the gym, check the logs. He showed up, worked out, chatted me up, and then I left before him.”

“Alright, but was there a night you didn’t spend at home?”

“Why do you think I spent any night away from the apartment?”

“Maybe you should just answer my questions without any more sass. Or are you looking for something tonight?”

I stared defiantly back at him, because I was. I could see him getting turned on and imagined his dick was probably already hard. It shouldn’t turn him on to have me so disagreeable, but it did. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and waited for my answer. I think it hurt his feelings that I simply carried on with my explanation rather than admitting what I wanted from him.

“The electricity went out in my building one night. I called a friend to see if I could stay over. It was incredibly hot that day and I was never going to be able to sleep without AC. She picked me up and it wasn’t until I got back the next morning that I realized I’d forgotten my phone.”

And then I picked right back up with my insolence.

“But I noticed there were no missed calls or messages from you anyway.” I took another drink, with a devilish smirk on my lips.

“Get up,” he growled at me.

“But I’m not done eating, August.”

“You are. Get up. Now.” August watched as I shoved my chair back and stood. “Now if you want something else to fill that bratty little mouth of yours, why don’t you crawl on over here?”

I saw the pleasure on his face as I sank to my knees before placing my hands on the plush rug beneath the dining table and slowly made my way to him, eyes connected to him the entire time. He turned his seat to face me.

“I am still hungry,” I purred when I reached his lap. “What else did you put on the menu tonight?”

August leaned back in his chair and spread his legs wide as he rested one arm on the table beside him and smoothed the other down his inner thigh.

“Is this one of those meals I have to prepare myself?” I dared to tease and I could see through his pants the way August got even harder as I continued to dish out the attitude.

“It’s practically ready now. You just have to take it out.”

I reached up to unzip his trousers then slipped a hand through the opening of his silk boxer shorts and licked my lips at the sight.

“I have to warn you, I’m particularly ravenous tonight,” I smiled up at him as he drew his hand to my head and pulled me closer.

“It’s a good thing this is all for you then.” 

August pulled my head down and closed his eyes as he struggled not to thrust his hips when my mouth wrapped around him. He simply guided me lower and when I opened for him, the look on his face betrayed the way he relished the feel of the back of my throat and the way I gagged while trying to swallow my saliva around his dick. I looked up at him and he opened his eyes to watch the tears of pleasure spill down my face. I never shied away from choking on his dick and I held my own as he began to bob my head in earnest. I kept my mouth wide open when he finally drew me away from his lap just before he grabbed a hold of his own cock to finish himself. He loved watching his seed drip down my face. I knew it made it so much easier for him to get hard again, especially when I swiped my fingers through his spend and wrapped my lips around them to suck them clean.

In the post orgasmic haze after he’d taken me to bed and defiled me a few more ways, he sat up to ask me a question and I noticed he watched my reaction carefully.

“We’re going on another trip, you and I. We’ll return separately this time. I have something I need to bring into the country and I want you to carry it for me. Will you do that for me?”

With some hesitancy, I agreed. I hoped August would take it as a sign that Matteo was nothing but wrong about me. I needed him to feel I was truly and deeply his and that I was only just now beginning to understand that the club wasn’t his only business. 

I was late to the rendezvous back in the States, but I did arrive with all the cargo still intact. After apologizing profusely, I stayed quiet and demure, presenting an obvious change from my behavior at previous meetings when he didn’t think I had a clue what business was going down. Now I remained meek and a little wide-eyed as I watched him complete his business transaction, trading a portion of the drugs for a few large duffles of cash. 

Later in bed, I broached an earlier subject with what was obviously surprising new information for him.

“August, I have to tell you something,” I said, drawing circles over his chest with my fingertips.

“What is it, love?” 

“I’m worried about you.”

“Worried how?”

“Is what we did this time what you do all the time? Is that what taking care of business is for you?”

“Are you having a hard time calling it what it is, Francesca? Did you think I only bought the drugs you and I used together?”

I sat up to face him. “I always wondered, but I didn’t know until now. And it worries me. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“What trouble would I get into? Are you worried about your FBI friend?”

“August, he’s not my friend anymore. Please you have to believe me. But it does worry me. You said there was nothing to worry about, that he had nothing on you. But we’ve just moved a shit ton of illegal drugs into the country. That doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Everything is under control, Francesca. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I have plans to get out of that business.”

“Sooner or later?”

“What is with all these questions?”

“It’s just…okay, look. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to think I’ve been taking advantage of you. This really did just happen.”

August sat up now himself, as if he was suddenly concerned about the direction this conversation was headed.

“What really just happened, Francesca?”

“It’s honestly perfect timing. It means we could leave here now, leave everything behind and never look back. I have a house now, in Europe, that no one knows about. And enough in a trust fund to keep us set for the rest of our lives together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” August was becoming agitated. This was new information and I could tell it concerned him that he didn’t know it was a possibility that I wasn’t the down-on-her-luck struggling yoga instructor he thought I was. He must be wondering who had dropped the ball on my background search.

“August, I love you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble. I want us to be together and I don’t think it’s safe here for you any longer. Give the club to someone else and walk away with me.”

August

August was now convinced Francesca wasn’t a threat to him, and he wanted the same to be true for the rest of his team, but someone was talking out of school and he needed to find out who. August and Mateo conferred in quiet corners and behind closed doors. Assignments were given to test loyalties, background checks run again to see if any conflicting information would appear. 

Mateo was still not convinced about Francesca, especially knowing she had connections no one uncovered before and he told August it was for the best that he didn’t loosen her security detail. August continued to put her off, every time she brought up getting out of the business and hoped he could eventually convince her to let that go. A second home in Europe would be most welcome, but he was never gonna give up his life and run away. 

A couple weeks later, after even more new information had turned up, August finally had what he needed. He knew who was spying and he knew how he wanted to take care of it. No one would ever expect they’d be taken to Paris to be exposed and taught the ultimate lesson. 

He had Francesca packed and ready to go when security arrived to drive them to the airport. It was a quiet flight, even if August did give in let her suck him off in the first class cabin. He really did have such a hard time denying her when she got down on her knees for him. The pout on her face when he wouldn’t let her climb onto his lap might have broken a weaker man.

When they arrived at the hotel, he watched Francesca unpack as he always did. He loved to watch the surprise on her face each time she pulled a new item from the bag and she was always eager to put his choices on display for him. His impeccable taste never failed him; every last article of clothing and accessories complimented her body in a way he imagined she had never felt before. It was as if the act of choosing her attire was the first stage of foreplay August used when he made love to her. If his fingers couldn’t caress her, the fabric and material would, molding to her body and holding her firm.

He spent the afternoon ravishing Francesca in bed, chasing every high he could get as if it might be the last. He tasted every inch of her body, nipping and tonguing along the curves and lines, dipping into the valleys. He held her down, wrists above her head, strong legs spreading her wide while he worked his fingers deep into her, stretching and stroking and smoothing and coaxing early waves of pleasure from her.

August swallowed her gasps of pleasure and howls for more, his lips crushing hers while his tongue slid in deep beside hers. He flipped her over and hauled her ass into the air, kneading and squeezing and groping as he bent low and pressed his tongue along her slit, tasting all the slick she’d made just for him.

He knew it was for him by the way she cried his name, begged him to relieve her, and pleaded for a final release. She was a mess and he still wasn’t done. With his cock deep in her drenched pussy, he popped his thumb in his mouth and licked some saliva on it so when he pressed it against her tight pucker it slipped in with ease. Francesca backed right into it with no hesitation and he knew he’d be able to get all the way in again tonight. She was absolutely ready and wanting that.

He took some time lubing and loosening her up. He had three fingers in with his cock still pumping and she wasn’t showing any signs of wanting him to stop. When August finally pushed the tip in, he could feel the way she drew him in. God, how she wanted to be fucked in the ass.

He did that for her, or so he told himself. He couldn’t quite admit that even if she hadn’t wanted it tonight, he may have taken her this way sooner or later. It was what gave him the ultimate orgasm and it was only a bonus that she loved it, too. August thought about how it might have been fun to add a man to their bed so she could choke on a dick while getting railed from behind, in either hole. 

Once they were cleaned up and dressed, August ushered Francesca down to the hotel lobby to meet Mateo for the drive to the club.

“August, baby. This isn’t the way to the club,” Francesca commented, glancing out the window.

“And how would you know the way to the club, darling? We’ve never been here together before.” He watched her closely, scanned her face and body for any twitch, any shiver, any tell. As always, he found nothing.

“The GPS says,” she answered, pulling her hand up from beside her and showing him the mapping app that was clearly flashing to recalculate a route. “I always love to see directions. It helps me get used to the city. God, I hope we come back here someday. I always wanted to see Paris. Now that we’re here, I never want to leave.” 

Francesca turned back to peer out the window again and August watched her marvel at the lights and buildings around them. For all her sharp edges, August always found the wonder in her eyes endearing. Though he did find it odd when he realized she had most likely spent time in Europe, though she acted as if everything was brand new each time. When they pulled up to the warehouse, he restrained a small smirk when she commented that it didn’t look like the kind of club that suited her dress. 

That was her way of saying the spot looked haggard and run down and maybe a little beneath them. And of course it was. It was a warehouse. It was most definitely not a club.

August let her enter first, door held like a gentleman before he turned the handle over to Mateo and entered himself. He didn’t bother hiding the lick of his lips as he watched her ass in the tight dress strut forward in front of him. He could tell she was still horny from the afternoon.

August caught her as she stumbled back into him, seemingly to escape the sight in front of her.

“August, what is this?” He could hear her voice break when she asked the question.

“What does it look like darling?” he answered. Something in her answer would hopefully convince Mateo he had been wrong when he pointed a finger at her. August felt differently, partly due to his previous conversations with her and partly due to the very little actual evidence Mateo presented to make his case. August countered with the more obvious details that pointed to the man in the chair. 

“August, you said I had nothing to worry about with you. You said…” she leaned into him, and August thought he detected at least a hint of terror. It would be the first time she’d broken like this before him, though he was sure she barely knew this man sitting before her, beaten unconscious. Will Shaw had hardly ever been around when she was. Maybe a few nights at the club, but always on the periphery.  She didn’t know him, she could only see the state he was in, probably barely hanging on. Of course she’d flinch. This wasn’t the first time he was showing her his hand, but it was a doozy.

“August, please. Did you know what was happening here? You have to help him. You can’t let him die. If you help him, that’ll count for something,” Frankie pleaded with him. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt people.”

“Francesca, you’re a very smart and resourceful woman. I’ve grown extremely fond of you. I want you with me, but you do need to know there is a dark side you haven’t seen yet. Sometimes, people work against me. Sometimes, they are looking out for themselves, trying to take from me more than they deserve. Sometimes, they have a sinister motive. Maybe they want to take my business, run me out of the game.” August walked Francesca cautiously towards Will, keeping a firm grip on her arms. “And sometimes, they want to hurt me. Sometimes they think they have the right to keep me from the work I was destined to do and they try to get me in trouble. Will here was trying to get me into trouble.”

August spun Francesca to face him, searching her eyes for understanding. 

“Francesca, do you think it’s right for someone to pretend to be someone they aren’t? And then to use that subterfuge to ingratiate themselves into my life so they could try to find unflattering details about my work?”

August watched Francesca blink and saw her pupils dilate. The way her iris had let the black overtake it told him what he needed to know: she was scared. It was good enough for him.

“Nnn..no, August,” she stammered. “But he’s really hurt. Lemme help him.”

August wasn’t prepared for the way she twisted from his grip, so she was on her knees next to Will before he had a chance to take hold of her again. He watched her touch him tentatively, perhaps checking for a pulse as she pushed his watch out of the way and set her fingers on his wrist. She set a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head back as she pulled his eyelids gently open to check for any reaction. The way her shoulders relaxed told August Will was still alive.

“Anything you think you can do for him? It’s of no use. Francesca, this is something you need to get comfortable with. I will not allow someone to hurt me. Do you understand?”

Syverson

Frankie had been out of pocket and unreachable for weeks now. Syverson knew every move she made, along with August Walker, but the fact that she wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, even on the burner phone number he’d been given made him nervous. Or perhaps frustrated was a better word for it.

He continued to liaise with Director Marshall, usually through Ramos, and continued stacking evidence against Walker even though there was nothing he could do about it for now. His superiors weren’t happy about the fact that another agency was blocking his case, but pressure from even higher up forced them to accept the stalled state of the investigation. 

He spent days in surveillance locations and nights thinking about Frankie in his bed. He had to keep reliving those moments to fend off the visuals of her and August together. What he wouldn’t give to have her next to him again, begging for his touch.

He had signed off on the joint agency paperwork that would allow Frankie back into the country with the dope August was peddling, but he hated how much deeper she was getting with August. She was now openly transporting for him which meant August was placing his trust in her even more than before. 

Taglists

He also wanted to trust she knew what she was doing, but he feared for her safety, no matter how good of an agent she was. Victoria continued to assure him that Walter had everything under control, but he only wanted to hear it from Frankie’s mouth directly. Apparently, until the CIA was done with their case, that was never gonna happen.

Chapter 7

Everything Henry:  @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn  @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato  @liveoncoffeeandflowersss   @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume  @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings  @enchantedbytomandhenry  @omgkatinka  @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @thesaucynomad @just-chirpin @henryownsme

Walk with Me only (I added you if you reblogged or asked and Tumblr would let me): @kingliam2019 @valacircareads @sofiebstar @cardierreh15​ @firstcashheroathlete​ @ylva-syverson​ @sunriserose1023​ @cavilladdict​ @angreav​ @ellethespaceunicorn​ @mis-lil-red​ @peaches1958​ @xhoneyxbeex​ @livisss​  @hangmanscoming​ 

#henry cavill #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #syverson fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson au #august walker au #syverson #august walker #walk with me #mine #deandoesthingstome

[george-weasleys-girl]

Opposites Attract Pt.3

Snapes POV

Snape had seen a few things in his life, and, as such, very few things surprised him. So when Y/N and Fred walked into Potions' class hand in hand, his first thought was that his eyesight was starting to go. Or maybe his mind. When they sat down together at the same table, he knew that the culprit was neither his eyes nor his mind, but that hell had apparently frozen over.

The genius and the deliquent. Of all the possible people Y/N could've chosen to date, she picked Fred Weasley. A bad feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. She had a bright future ahead of her, and he worried that this misguided decision might interfere with her studies. Rolling his eyes at the pure idiocy of the situation, Snape resolved to let it go for now and speak with her about it during their next book discussion.

Assuming the relationship lasted more than a couple of weeks.

Y/N's POV

Two days earlier - Hogsmede

By the end of the hour long tour through Zonkos, Y/N was chatting with Fred as if she'd known him for years. His unsinkable exuberance, combined with her unexpected fascination with nearly everything in the store, proved to be the key to unlocking the tightly guarded walls around her. She didn't even realize how comfortable she'd become until Fred suggested they join George and his girlfriend at The Three Broomsticks for lunch.

"Oh, um‐‐," her mind blanked. She hadn't expected this, though she shouldn't have been surprised. He and George were two peas in a pod. You rarely saw one without the other. So, of course, he'd want to spend a little time with his twin today.

"It's ok if you don't," Fred backtracked when she shrank back into herself. "It's no pressure, love. We can do whatever you want."

"No, it's okay," she smiled. "I-I think it would be nice."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Y/N couldn't believe the words that just came out of her mouth. Normally, she would've come up with any excuse she could to get out of such a situation. Maybe she was channeling a little of her great-grandmother's boldness after all. Or perhaps it was because Fred's presence calmed her in a way she never expected. There was just something about him that made her feel safe.

Maybe that was why she did what she did next, needing the extra reassurance if she was to survive lunch without making a complete idiot of herself.

~•~

Fred's POV

Fred was rarely surprised or caught off guard. So when Y/N slid her hand into his the moment they walked into The Three Broomsticks, he froze, staring down at their clasped hands. Then, back to her, his eyes wide, clearly shocked at this unprecedented development.

"Oh sorry," Y/N began to pull her hand away.

"No, no. I should be the one who's sorry," Fred grasped her hand again. "I just didn't expect you to do that."

"Oh, ok," Y/N looked down, her hair hiding the heat rising up into her face.

"It's ok, truly it is," Fred tried to reassure her. "I've been wanting to hold your hand all day, but I didn't know if you were ready for that yet."

Y/N turned her gaze toward him. "Really?"

Fred gave her a lopsided grin. "Yes, really."

"That's good then," she said, looking up at him. A rosy blush still graced her cheeks, but it was now accompanied by her sweet smile. Fred's heart skipped a beat, and he almost gave into the urge to kiss her right then and there, but decided it might be too much, too soon. So instead, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and led her to the corner booth where George and his girlfriend sat.

They spent the entirety of lunch and the rest of the afternoon barely letting go of one another's hand. "Didn't you say you needed to stop by Scrivenshaft's for a new quill?" Fred asked as they left the pub.

"Yeah," Y/N replied. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to. I'll only be a few minutes."

"What?" Fred gasped. "And let go of your hand? Never in a million years."

Y/N giggled as that beautiful blush rose up in her cheeks again. "And then we can hit Honeydukes before we head back to the castle," Fred suggested as he once again fought the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

~•~

Y/N's POV

Y/N lay in bed that night, unable to stop smiling. Just this morning, she came so very close to canceling. And now, she couldn't believe she'd even considered such a ridiculous idea.

Running a finger over her mouth, she savored the lingering ghost of his lips on hers.

He'd kissed her. Fred Weasley had actually kissed her.

It still didn't feel quite real.

Standing outside her common room with minutes to get back to his own before curfew, Fred had asked if he could kiss her, and she simply nodded, too stunned to speak. He was so soft and gentle, as if he were afraid she might break. And yet, it still set her head spinning and her knees wobbling. All the rest of the evening, the only thing she could think about was when they could do it again.

'Perhaps in the morning,' she thought, yawning and rolling onto her side as sleep and the promise of sweet dreams overtook her.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @imshiningjustforyou @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvzu @gobringmemyfood @kiwi5335

~•~

#fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #hp universe #hp fandom

[rinbowaman]

S E 7 E N : L E V I A T H A N P A R T F O 4 R

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), reptilian features during oral sex, intimidation, use of force, mentions of torture, death, rape, and cannibalism, murder, insulting religion, characters going against God…I think that’s it.

“Senator…I’ve got you.” The man responds as he and another cult member stabilizes Forras. You peeled around Jake’s torso and witnessed as the Senator appeared from a few feet away. You observed his pitiful state, in which Jake allowed you to witness as he smirks out a scoff. 

“My oh my….she did a number on you didn’t she? Good thing…better her than him..although, now that he knows everything…to include what you tried to do…you’re not off the hook….he has a bone to pick with you and it’s going to come…real soon.” Jake calmly states out as he shifts around, bringing you forth to fully view the Senator. 

You were somewhat shocked at his appearance,  the side of his face appeared somewhat droopy, his arm and shoulder on the same side was slightly altered as it dipped down from the original structure as displayed on the opposite side. 

With harsh bruises and stitches all on the damaged side, he stands somewhat stabilized with the aid of the two members, glaring at you with a hateful passion. His eyes had the urge to do a myriad of acts against you.

“You….” He spoke, it came out slightly slurred as the side of his lip remained gaped open and unmoving to complete any coherency to his words. 

“See what you have done?” One of the cult members sneers at you as he stabilizes Forras posture. 

“You offended God by conducting great harm to the one who he has chosen to relay his will…his decree. This is why you were chosen to die.” The man continued.

You were piecing everything together as you recalled the events that night he tried to take and do the unspeakable against you. The flashback of grabbing on to the paperweight statue, made of brass, and striking him multiple times on the side of his head, the same side where the damage and lack of mobility was apparent. You must have struck and damaged one of his major nerves. 

It wasn’t your intention to do any specific damage, you were just trying to get away…yet that was irrelevant as the question remained since last night when the group of various members snuck into your apartment while you were out with Sunoo….

“H-how do you all know I was selected?….” You spoke out as you somewhat glared right back at the two regulators, and Forras. 

Jake looks down and wraps an arm around the back of your shoulders. 

“So go ahead and tell her….you afraid she’s going to tell the city and reveal the ugly truth?” Jake scoffs as he eyeballs the three men. 

“We are Gods most trusted viziers…we know of his will and-“ the regulator was cut off by Jakes stern and yet steady tone.

“Let me stop you right there.” he tilts his head back and smiles towards the sky, yet his eyes remained narrowly gazing at the three individuals. 

Remaining still, his eyes grew dangerously narrow as his iris barely remained visible. 

“Let’s have a moment of truth, shall we?” He pauses as he bites down on the metal jewelry that rested on his bottom lip. “First, you don’t know anything about the man above, so knock off that pretentious attitude. Second, she may not know…yet. But we both know the real reason why she was targeted. So with that being said, I fucking dare you to sit there and lie to me again…between all of us, if anyone knows God better... it is me….not you….” 

Slightly pausing, Jake smirks out. 

“But  no one knows him better…than him.” He slightly lowers his tone at the last bit. Upon mentioning ‘him’ he tightens his grip around your waist. 

“Who are you? Who are you men that have been aiding this….witch.” One of the regulators snaps out. 

“Witch huh?…” Jake irks out as he furrows his brows together. 

“Don’t tell me that after all of your evolutionary growth…you’re still so narrow minded…there’s never a reasonable explanation with you people, you just always have to find something…or someone to blame.” He narrowed his eyes once more, “fucking atrocious…it’s no wonder he wanted to kill you all off before your kind even came into existence.” 

Your ears perked as Jake continued. 

“He wanted to burn you all to the ground, watch you squirm as the fangs from the flames sear through your flesh and scorches your bones…it brought nothing but a smile on his wicked face whenever he thought of it. Each and every single day, while we waited for the man and woman to come into creation, he was just itching to torture them….their children….and all others that followed suit, which would have decapitated your kind from existing. Humanity wouldn't have lasted passed ten days since being birthed in the paradise of Eden.” 

He paused as he chuckles deeply, before switching his gaze to a dark and stern one. 

“But the moment he finds a reason that changed his mind…his heart….you people want to go after and kill off that reason. How ironic…you have any idea what would happen to you? What type of demon you’d bring out of him should anything happen to…” turning his face slightly towards you, he tilts his head back as he nudges in your direction, “….the ‘reason’.” 

Your breath hitched.

“Despite you all making up stories and tarnishing his name, elaborating such falsehoods to create some sort of monster out of him…speaking his name to scare your children into obedience, and to keep your people in chains, forcing them to follow false scriptures, he looked past all of that….all because he knew that one day she’d finally come into existence....the only thing that will satisfy his anguish, his pain, the betrayal he felt, and fill the emptiness that hollows him.” 

Jake’s words hit you deep. 

‘Am I really….all that to Helel?’ 

“You non-believer! You speak of the Devil with such high praise yet denounce God as your lord and savior! You should die along with her!” One of them snaps out, as more regulators pull up in a separate vehicle. 

With a look of amusement, Jake crosses his arms. His all black and form fitting attire creates a slick and suave appearance as he glares through each member. 

“Believe me…nothing can kill me or my brothers, especially those ‘angels’ that you claim that are doing ‘Gods work’. Don’t even get me started on that one…” 

Tilting his head low, he pivots his feet and turns to face you. 

“Priiiiiiiinceeeeessssssss….” The harshness of his pronouncement of the ‘s’ sound slithered out…like a snake.

“I’ll always be truthful to you….all of us have been. You know deep down, my brothers and I have not misled you….Heeseung is in love with you…it’s sickening and frightening...it's even deadly.....but it is also pure and righteous in its own nature.” 

Approaching you as his arms remained crossed, you watched with a calm yet inquiring expression on your face as the elegant dressed man before you leans in at the neck, and whispers into your ear…

“Are you ready to accept the truth? Are you willing to accept his love and forever be the main feature of his life…his inspiration….and his soul?” 

You nodded, it was with slight hesitation, yet you accepted it…you had accepted it long before he even asked. 

“Good giiiiiiirlllll….” With the slight tapping of his snake like tongue, he flickers the split end against your ear as he gently kisses your cheek, pulls back and gazed into your eyes. You watched as the small, rounded pupils regained the slit shape…the reptilian features coming out once more.

Turning to face the group of men, which had doubled in quantity as the second vehicle that had pulled up carried additional members to back up the Senator and his original party. 

 But you weren’t worried…nor were you afraid. If anything, they should be afraid….for you knew…the sudden realization hit you the moment you saw Jake’s eyes transition. 

With his arms still crossed, he shifts his gaze over to the Senator.

Whispering, he eyeballs and directs his words to the men at Forras' left…and to his right. 

"Take heed, ol’ mortal being.

For the enemy is within your own, and not at all within me.

Your neighbor kills, your sister lies,

Your kindred friend looks at you with two-toned eyes.

They speak with double tongues, split down the middle.

One speaks fondly, as the other curses your name in a separate riddle.

They preach you through, with lightness on display,

Yet when all is said and done, behind ye back, deadly games will be played.

As you live in bliss, your years without regret,

So shall the be the one, who takes your life with hidden threat.

Take heed, ol’ mortal being, as I, Leviathan, The Prince of Envy, Great Serpent of the Sea, Devourer of Ships, and The Marquis of Snakes,

Will issue you this warning, to either leave or take."

'Leviathan...the master of the Seven Seas....the Prince of Envy....'

P A R T 5 I V E

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry @honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07 @raishaii @yangjungwon33

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #jake sim smut #jake x reader #jake smut #jake enhypen #jake imagines

[cbrownjc]

"Endgame" this and "Endgame" that... part of what I really liked about VC when I read it for the first time is how much the characters subverted typical heternormative values- and part of that subversion is that the characters aren't monogamous. I know that when people say "Dont worry, the showrunners have already made it clear that Loustat is endgame" they're just trying to comfort the anons who are majorly doomscrolling, but at the same time I feel like its kind of misleading non-book readers to not

Hey Anon,

Sorry for the wait for my reply, but I wanted to think a bit before I answered because I think this is a kinda complex topic, and I didn't want to just dash off a quick answer. Plus, it's the Thanksgiving Holiday weekend here in the US, and I’ve had family visiting. So I only just finally have time now. Again, sorry for the delay.

Okay. Now, when the showrunners mean "endgame" for Lestat and Louis, I really do think they mean the final book, Blood Communion, ballroom dancing together, Louis-is-apparently-wearing-a-big-emerald-ring-and-is-Lestat's-consort ending. Now, I haven't read Blood Communion yet. I just got that book in the mail four or five days ago, so I haven't had time to read it, or its ending, for myself yet. But according to everyone that has read it, that is how that book, and basically the entire VC now, ends. With monogamous Lestat and Louis.

And I think EP7 of S1 gave a big hint to that ending with the ballroom dance between Lestat and Louis. The first season ended with a ballroom dance between them, and I think the final season of the show, whenever it is, will end with the same thing - a ballroom dance. Specifically, the one from Blood Communion.

Now, that all said? I think the show might've been hinting at the polyamory of Rice's vampires during S1, which it might go into during S2.

I'm just not overly confident that they will, simply because I don't know if viewers who aren't familiar with the books will really get it or not? Because there is still jealousy among vampires when it does come to the polyamory aspect too. It's just not "love triangle" jealousy.

I mean, let's look at Armand: part of Armand's whole thing is that he's angry and jealous that Lestat will never choose him as a companion/lover. But Armand would never have minded if he'd been chosen in tandem with Louis or anyone else Lestat chose. Many things in the first two books maybe wouldn't have happened if Lestat had just loved Armand enough in that way to be polyamorous with both him and (later) Louis.

That said, at the moment, I'm not sure if show-Louis is even into the idea of polyamory. ("Botched vampire.") Maybe because Antonette was a woman, Louis had no interest in her joining them in that way. (Also, Lestat wanting to replace Claudia with her is something Louis would have never okay'd anyway).

And even when it comes to book-Louis, the only time we ever saw him in a truly polyamorous relationship when it came to his and Lestat's relationship was when David Talbot joined them at the end of Tale of the Body Thief. Even though Louis didn't seem particularly interested in David that way, at least going by their interactions in Merrick, Louis never seemed jealous of David or Lestat's love for David.

Where I think the show might explore the polyamory idea is with Daniel-Armand-Louis. And that might be because Daniel was, and remained, human throughout his time with them. (Because yes, I do think Devil's Minion happened in the past, in the 70s and early-80s.) There was never a maker-fledgling dynamic at play between any of those three, which I think would also be a great way to explore Armand's whole outlook on that dynamic and why he never wanted to turn Daniel in the first place.

There are still power imbalances within a Daniel-Armand-Louis relationship, but not of the maker-fledgling variety, which is really where all the tumultuous relationships in the series seem to come from.

But it's still a "might" if the show will go there. I can see ways in which I think the show is setting it up ("our boy" when Louis talks to Armand about Daniel), but I'm still not sure yet.

So yeah, all that to say that while I do think many non-book readers are doom-scrolling when it comes to Lestat and Louis, I don't think book readers are really misleading them. Not really when it comes to the "endgame" of them being together since that is what happened in the final book.

But where I do think miscommunication comes in the idea that Lestat and Armand will have some knock-down, drag-out fight over Louis because of jealousy or whatever. Because, in the books, Lestat was never jealous about Louis being with Armand. Not because Lestat didn't love Louis fatally (to use Lestat's own words), but because Lestat never saw Armand's love and care for Louis as a rival to Lestat's own love for Louis. Lestat was actually thankful for Armand's love for Louis. Loving Louis basically meant that Armand would never destroy Louis, you know?

As I’ve said, the showrunners comparing the ending with Armand and Louis to The Graduate tells you everything you need to know. Ben and Elaine don’t hate each other in that final shot. They care about each other very much. It’s just “love of my life” love it is not. And I believe that is what we’ll see by the end of S2 with Armand and Louis. Even if it does start out passionate, that isn’t how it ends when they finally do go off together, and where we see them now in the present day of the story. However, because of their nature, even after everything that happens, there will remain love, care, and affection always between them. But it is not a threat to the love that Louis or even Armand has for anyone else as well.  

It took me days to figure out how to talk about this, and I still don't know if I'm explaining myself well. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that while Rice's vampires can and sometimes do get jealous of other vampire lovers, they never have knock-down, drag-out fights with each other over those feelings. There are no amorous love triangles. (Not in the sense of something like the Twilight series.) These creatures just crave love so much that they look for it everywhere and take it anywhere they can. And while hurt when they don't get it from someone whom they may wish it from, it doesn't lessen their love for anyone else they do have their love returned from.

And that might just be too complex a concept to try and get across to a general audience. As I said, I think the show might be setting up to try and do it in S2, but I'm not sure.

(BTW: to anyone who might ask, “well, what about Claudia?” In the books, Claudia’s whole deal was that she hated both of her dads. She calculatedly pitted them against each other, choosing to try and bind Louis more to her because he was easier to manipulate, as was revealed in the book Merrick. So no, that wasn’t any type of love triangle, either amorous or otherwise. And I think the show has been hinting at something similar too wrt Claudia.) 

#loustat #lestat x louis #louis x lestat #Armand #armand x daniel x louis #louis x armand x daniel #daniel x armand x louis #Daniel Molloy #Lestat de Lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #Devil's Minion #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #polyamory in ficton #ask #ask and answer #fandom #shipping #vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #queue

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Heroes in Our Midst

Title: Heroes in Our Midst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff!

Summary: You invite the confused veteran at the grocery store to your Friendsgiving, but maybe you should’ve done a background check first.

A/N: Happy (belated) American Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! I’m so thankful for each and every one of you. I hope that everyone, whether you are celebrating today or not, is safe, healthy, and surrounded by those they love (and that love them back). Dividers are by @firefly-graphics​

The man in the baseball cap has been staring at the stuffing for five minutes now, and you’re on a deadline. You don’t really want to tell him that he’s in the way and that he’s completely blocking the bags you need for your Friendsgiving, nor do you want to reach out and force your way in. He looks lost, the poor thing, and it’s when he flinches at the pre-recorded holiday message over the PA system that you decide to intervene.

“You can’t go wrong with Stove Top,” you say, stepping a little closer. He frowns, turning to face you just enough for you to see his profile. 

What a jawline, you hum to yourself, and you, thankfully, manage not to say it out loud despite the fact that you’re running on only four hours of sleep. The holidays did you dirty this year.

“I’m sorry?” he asks.

And what a voice! You melt a little at the deep timbre of it.

You gesture at the red box to his left. “Stove Top. It’s pretty easy to make and it doesn’t taste half bad. It’s not homemade by any means, but it’ll do if you’re in a pinch.”

“Right.” He clears his throat and picks up a singular box, then sets it in his cart as if it might break if he weren’t careful.

Peering past him, you frown at his bounty. Along with the stuffing, this broad-shouldered man has selected a pitiful rotisserie chicken, a slightly smushed sweet potato pie, and a dented can of cranberry sauce. No doubt it was one of the last ones in the bin. People in your neighborhood apparently really love cranberries, much to your dismay. His isn’t the Thanksgiving dinner you would have chosen, but you remind yourself that not everyone is as lucky as you.

Some people spend the holidays all by themselves. A pang goes through your heart as the man steps down the aisle, finally allowing you to load up on the bags of stuffing you’ve been waiting on.

You toss four into your already overflowing cart and you’re reaching for a fifth when you feel the man’s eyes on you. Silently, you glance over in his direction before grabbing the bag and adding it to your bounty.

“Do you need another recommendation?” you ask, hoping that’s the only reason he’s watching you. There’ve been too many stories about creeps on the news lately and your heart skips a beat at the thought.

“You definitely look like someone who knows what they’re doing,” he replies. He nods at the cart and you grip the handle a little tighter.

“I’ve got a big family. And a boyfriend,” you add, just for good measure. “He’s waiting on me in the car.”

The man shakes his head and holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to hit on you, miss. I’m sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I’ve…” He clears his throat again and drops his hands, glancing back at his almost-empty shopping cart. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what? Shopped for a Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Something like that. Think you could help me out?”

Carefully, you push your cart closer so you can get a better look at his. He’s wearing dog tags, you notice, and a swell of sympathy makes your chest tight.

Of course, you think, and you could almost kick yourself. No wonder he’s so overwhelmed by all of the options.

“Well, the first thing I’ll need to know is how many people you’re cooking for. That’s a big factor,” you tell him.

Now that you’re closer, you’re able to get a clearer view of his face. He’s got kind eyes to go with the sharp jawline and beautiful voice, and you smile a little as he glances down at his purchases.

“Just me,” he says. “I couldn’t find a turkey small enough, hence the chicken.”

You frown. “Just you? That’s it?” He nods in confirmation and you purse your lips for a moment. “Honestly? You’re better off just getting one of the pre-packed meals by the deli or just going out to eat. Cooking a whole Thanksgiving dinner for yourself is a whole lot of hassle and a lot of stress for nothing.”

He shifts a little. “I’d rather cook as much as I can. This is the first Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time. I want it to be…” The man trails off, seemingly at a loss for what he wants.

“That’s understandable,” you say, nodding and offering him a small smile. “I noticed your dog tags. Where were you stationed?”

Automatically, he reaches up to tuck them inside his shirt, out of view. “Europe.”

“And you didn’t have Thanksgiving there?”

Your poor attempt to make conversation falls flat and the man forces a tight smile. “Is my dinner a completely lost cause?”

“Not necessarily. You’ve got a good foundation, you just need some fixings to spruce it up a bit. Some mashed potatoes, green beans, a salad, some mac-n-cheese, another pie…” He nods along, as if making a mental checklist as you speak. “That’s if you’re really dead set on this whole cooking thing, and obviously that’s more than just one person can eat. You’ll have a lot of leftovers to tide you over, which isn’t always a bad thing. Of course, there’s always another option…”

“Which is?” he asks.

The song changes overhead from a newer Christmas song to one of the classics and you can’t stop the next words that come out of your mouth,

“Come to my house for dinner.”

He seems just as surprised as you do, and you want to crawl into a hole. You scramble to correct yourself before the man, a complete stranger, can run away and tell all his friends and family about the weird girl in the grocery store who invited him to her house on one of the biggest holidays of the year when all he wanted was to know which brand of boxed mashed potatoes to buy.

“Of course, I’m sure you have other plans. I wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m not even really sure why I said that. I don’t normally—”

“I’d love to come, if it’s a genuine offer,” the man says, cutting you off. He smiles softly, a gratefulness shining in his eyes, even from underneath the baseball cap. “I’d hate to intrude on you and your family, though, or your fella. Boyfriend, I mean.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your cart. “Well, it’s— I actually don’t have a boyfriend. That was more of a let’s-scare-off-the-creeps-with-a-fake-boyfriend type thing, you know?”

“I’m… familiar with the tactic.”

By the way he says that, however, you’re not really sure he is. It’s endearing that he’s trying to save face in front of you, and you smile a little. When you lift your head, he’s watching you.

“I can text you my address, and what time to be there,” you add. “No pressure if something else comes up. I’m actually celebrating later this weekend with my friends—you know, Friendsgiving—so you’ve got some time to think about it. You don’t even need to bring anything if you don’t want. I usually do a lot of cooking and everyone else just brings something to drink or their leftovers from their own family dinners. It started out as a potluck, but it’s grown into something more over the past few years.”

His posture relaxes slightly. “That sounds nice.”

Smiling a little more, you hold out your hand. “Phone?”

After a beat, the man digs into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out something you haven’t seen in years. You manage to hold back your laugh, but the surprised noise can’t be helped. He looks a little shocked at the high-pitched outburst, then embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel bad, it’s just… I haven’t seen anyone with a Nokia in years. I mean, I think my grandpa probably still has one at his house… somewhere. We got him onto one of those little cheap smart phone things for senior citizens a few years ago.”

The tips of the mans ears are a bright pink as he hands the phone over to you, and you quickly start maneuvering your way to his contacts list. It takes a minute, but you finally get your name and number in, then hand it back.

“Y/N?” he reads, glancing up at you.

You nod. “And you’re…”

“Steve.” He stands a little straighter, a little taller, and you catch a glimpse of the great soldier he must be. “My name’s Steve.”

“It’s nice to meet you Steve. Send me a text so I have your number, okay? Then I can text back with the info. If you change your mind, though, there’s no need. I don’t want you to feel pressured to come, especially since we just met. I know that stranger danger is still a thing for adults.”

Nodding, he pockets his phone and grabs hold of his cart again. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Maybe I’ll see you soon. Thanks for the help with the stuffing.”

You can’t help but smile. He’s genuine, that’s for sure, and you watch him push his cart forward and turn the corner toward the produce section before finishing your own shopping. There’s a little bit more pep in your step as you head toward the registers.

Three days after Thanksgiving, Steve shows up for your annual Friendsgiving. He’s not the first person you’ve welcomed today, but you know for a fact that he’s been waiting outside near the bus stop for at least a half hour before he’d come up to the door.

Poor guy must be freezing out there.

“Hi! I’m glad you came!” You step out of the way so he can come in, then shut the door behind him.

Steve stands tall in the little entryway of your apartment. He’s got a bright blue tupperware bowl in his hands and he looks entirely out of place, so you decide to take a gentler, less enthusiastic approach. For someone who hasn’t had a real Thanksgiving in a long time, your cramped apartment filled with strangers, festive decorations, music, and several different kinds of cooking food is sure to overwhelm.

“Hey,” you say, coming around from behind him. You soften your smile and hope he perceives it as genuine. It is, of course, but you don’t want to seem unsure of your invitation, not after he’s made the effort to come and even bring something to share. “I really am glad you came. Do you want to put your dish in the kitchen? I can get you something to drink. Then you still have something to hold onto?”

He seems a little taken aback that you’d even noticed his tight grip on the bowl, but he nods anyway and follows you as you weave your way into your galley-style kitchen. Your neighbor is at the stove, stirring a pot of mac-n-cheese, and she smiles wide when Steve fills in the doorway behind you.

“You must be grocery store guy. We’ve been waiting for you,” she tells him.

You gape at her and whack the side of her arm. She laughs. “Gloria! Enough! Focus on the food, please! If you’re just going to gossip and spill my secrets, I’ll take care of the cooking myself!”

“No, we’re not having a repeat of last year,” she chides, still grinning. “You turn into a real mother hen when you’re in the kitchen. We all offer to help and yet you still complain that no one’s helping you!”

Steve’s cheeks are pink when you turn back to him, and you have a feeling it’s not just from the heat of the kitchen. Your own face feels a little warmer than it should and you force away the nervousness that bubbles up in your throat, instead trying to focus on clearing a spot for Steve’s contribution.

He sets the bowl down in the empty space you create and you try to sneak a peek. The silicone lid isn’t clear and your mind whirls with ways to ask him what he’d made, especially since he hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that can cook.

"Something to drink?” you finally offer, glancing up at him. “We’ve got beer, wine, juice, soda, coffee, water… Pretty much everything. There’ll be more options once everyone gets here.”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

Nodding, you set about getting him a paper cup and scribbling his name on it with Sharpie, then making sure he gets his drink. You hand it off as the door opens and your work friends step in, cheering as the song changes to a newer favorite right as they arrive. 

“I hate to just leave you like this, but I need to go say hi to them,” you say. “If you want, there should be some serving spoons you can use for whatever you brought. You can figure out what works best since it’s your dish.” You gesture towards the drawer next to the stove as you back towards the kitchen doorway, and Steve obediently nods. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you, a small smile on his face. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll get the lay of the land soon enough.”

You try to take Steve’s words to heart as you head back to the living area. It doesn’t take long before you’re sucked into conversations and shenanigans with your friends, however, and when you finally remember you’d ditched him with Gloria, of all people, forty-five minutes have passed and you’ve finished the drink you’d poured just before his arrival. 

Grabbing the empty cup, you hightail it back to the kitchen, only to find him leaning against the counter and nodding along with one of her long-winded stories. He looks up when you stumble into the room and offers you a concerned look, but you quickly wave him off when he reaches out to help you. From the way he looks you over, you can tell he thinks you’re drunk, but you don’t know how to explain that you’re just frantic that Gloria is spilling your deepest, darkest secrets to the cutest guy you’ve met in months.

“Oh! Y/N! I was just telling Steve that story about my great aunt who worked for the USO during World War II,” Gloria says, and you glance over at her, confused.

“That’s great. I don’t think I remember that one. Did Steve tell you he was a veteran?”

Gloria’s brows furrow and she looks between you and Steve. He’s suddenly very interested in the empty cup in his hands and your stomach drops. Nerves set in as Gloria makes some paltry excuse for the two of you, then pulls you into the tiny hallway off the living area.

You wrench your arm from her grip in front of your closed bedroom door. “Gloria! What’s wrong with you? I mention that Steve’s a veteran and you suddenly start acting weird? I’m trying to make him feel welcome and you’re not helping!”

She shakes her head at you, scoffing lightly. Amusement twinkles in her eyes. “You have no idea who you invited, do you?”

The nerves are back, extinguishing any frustration you might have held with her. “What— I mean, I know he’s a nice enough guy. I didn’t exactly do a background check, but you’re starting to make me wish I had! Why?” you hiss.

“Y/N, that’s Steve Rogers.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but it doesn’t exactly ring any bells, so you just stare at her. “Okay? Does he work for the government or something? Is he a spy? Do I need to call the cops?”

She rolls her eyes and pulls her phone out of the pocket of her apron. You watch in silence, looking between the screen and the doorway to the kitchen. You can just barely see Steve still leaning against the counter, his shoulders slumped. Your heart clenches a little at the sight. 

He looks so lonely.

“Here,” Gloria says, shoving her phone into your hands.

You almost drop it, but you quickly right it and start reading. With every word that you’re able to process, your heart starts beating faster and faster. 

Captain America? World War II? Frozen in ice? Born in 1918?

“Holy—”

This time when you glance back at the kitchen, Steve is gone. You shove the phone back at your neighbor and hurry back down the hallway to see if he’d just moved out of your view to refill his cup, but there’s no sign of him at all. 

The living room is filled with your friends chatting, leaning into each other, snapping pictures in front of your decorations, and chowing down on the appetizers, but there’s no Steve. You’re turning in circles when you catch a glimpse of him out the window. His cap is back on and his head bowed as he walks back down the street, his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit like he’s making a run for it, albeit a casual one.

Heart pounding, you throw on the first pair of shoes you can find and race out the door. You’ve never taken the two flights of stairs faster, but Steve is still turning the corner when you finally make it out onto the street.

Curse his long legs!

You have to push your way through the early evening crowds, throwing out “excuse me’s” and apologies every which way until you finally catch up with him a few meters away from the stairs down to the subway.

“Steve!”

You grab at the arm of his jacket. He pushes you away from him on instinct, sending you flying into another passerby. His reflexes are quick, however, because he’s steadied you before you’re even halfway to the ground and the other person is only a few steps away. They grumble at the both of you and you and Steve both send them half-hearted apologies as he leads you out of the flow of traffic.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Sometimes I forget—” He shakes his head. “Are you okay? I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him. “I’m more worried about you! Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Is everything okay?”

He drops his gaze to the pigeon scavenging around the discounted pumpkins nearby. “I’m fine, Y/N. You should be back in your apartment. It’s freezing out here, and it’s getting dark.”

In your rush to get out the door and catch up with him, you hadn’t thought to grab a jacket, but you hadn’t processed the cold until now. You shiver, and he quickly sheds his own to drape over your shoulders.

“You left your bowl,” you dumbly tell him.

The corner of his mouth crooks up, but it’s sad. “Don’t worry about it. I can get another.”

You shake your head. “Steve, I— Why did you leave? Is it because of something I did? Or something someone said? I promise that they’re all good people, it’s just sometimes when they drink, they get a little—”

“It’s not anything you or your friends did,” he says. “I promise. They were all wonderful and Gloria was very nice to me. I’m grateful that you welcomed me into your home even though we barely knew each other. Most people wouldn’t do something like that, not nowadays.”

“Then why?”

He sighs and looks up through the windows of the store behind you, watching the customers aimlessly browse the aisles for a long moment. Steve doesn’t meet your eyes when he speaks again, but you watch him fervently, searching for any sign of dishonesty or distress.

“Because I was worried that you’d be uncomfortable around me now that you know who I am,” he finally answers.

You shake your head again. “I don’t understand. Who you are? I know who you are. I mean, I already did, before Gloria showed me that article.”

His jaw clenches and you draw the jacket tighter around you when he steps away and adjusts his cap against a chilly breeze. His face and ears are pink from the cold, too. It’s not quite winter yet, but it’s rearing its ugly head.

“You’re Steve,” you continue, closing the distance between the two of you. “And you’re my dinner guest.”

“Y/N—”

“If we made you uncomfortable, then I understand you wanting to leave. You have every right to go home, if that’s the case. But my perception of you hasn’t changed now that I know more about your past. Knowing all the amazing, wonderful, selfless things you’ve done makes me want you to stay even more now, because it reminds me that it’s people like you that I’m thankful for. Who knows, I may not even be here if it weren’t for you saving New York.”

You take a beat, catching your breath a little in the cold evening air. “Steve,” you continue, as earnest as you can, “I want you to stay. Please.”

He ducks his head and you have to crane your neck to see his face underneath the brim of his hat. If the lights from the shop were a little brighter, you might be certain that there are tears in his eyes, but you’ll play it off as a trick of shadows for his sake.

“I’m more than just that guy in the article. They exaggerated things, and I am a veteran. I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” he tells you, and you nod. After a moment, you hold out your hand.

“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve Rogers. I’d really like to get to know you. All of you, not just the published stuff, if that’s okay.”

Steve stares at your outstretched hand for several moments, and you’re inwardly cringing and trying to think of a graceful way to recover when he finally shakes it. You have to hold back a relieved sigh as you smile.

“I don’t suppose I could invite you to my Friendsgiving for a second time?” you ask.

Much to your surprise, Steve chuckles. His hand is warm around yours and you shiver once he drops it. You tuck your hands into the pockets of his coat as the two of you turn and start walking back towards your apartment. He measures his stride to keep step alongside you, his body a barrier between you and the surging flow of people on the sidewalk, and you glance up at him with a smile.

“Well, I did leave my bowl,” he says, smiling down at you.

“Of course. That’s irreplaceable, so you’ll have to come back and get it. And while you’re here, you might as well stay for some dinner. I’d hate to send you home hungry.”

He holds open the door to your building and you duck under his arm into the overpowering warmth of the lobby. “Of course,” Steve replies. “That would be rude.”

“And I’d hate to have you think I’m a bad host.” You’re still smiling as you head up the stairs and open the apartment door, and you and Steve are greeted once again by your friends, most of which had never even realized that you’d disappeared. They’re none the wiser to your little escapade, and to Steve’s identity, but that’s just another thing that you’re thankful for.

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[oh-my-damn]

Hey Mandy,

I know you said you’re not going to post every single ask, which I understand since your inbox has exploded because of everything going on now.

I really do hope you’re able to find mine within the shuffle & hopefully answer?

I just want your advice (and anyone else’s out there?) on how to move forward?

I so appreciate all the posts I’ve been seeing fighting back at all the negativity being thrown at the fandom itself - ALL OF OUR FEELINGS ARE INDEED 100% VALID.

People out there are depicting us as these “femcels” who are having “meltdowns” and “tantrums” because “Chris will never fuck us” and all that similar conjecture - which honestly really stings because that’s truly not the case and what’s happening at all. That doesn’t even begin to describe it. If only they actually knew, if only everything we knew and have witnessed was more public knowledge, but sadly, it isn’t.

We’re all so disappointed and feeling how we’re feeling not because he’s gotten married at all, it’s not that fact, it’s not the verb, it’s the noun - it’s because of WHO he’s married and the circumstances revolving this. It’s because of who he has CHOSEN to go down this path with & share his life, his name, everything with. This is who he has chosen to connect and link his name to.

We’re not making up anything. This isn’t “fandom lore.” Everything that we have found out about this girl and the people who she herself is involved with, it’s all right there, the receipts and proof are literally there. And it’s IMPOSSIBLE that Chris himself or anyone in his circle doesn’t know even one iota of any of this. He knows. His family, his friends, his whole entire world knows.

In yet, in spite of all of this - he and they have all CHOSEN and ACCEPTED her and her whole group - with open freaking wide arms.

“The company you keep, is a reflection of who you are.”

And this just goes to prove to us all, after all this time, that THIS is who he truly is, too.

Everything that he stood up for, just everything… you CANNOT be both. You just cannot be the guy who stands up to racism and anti-Semitism and publicly proclaims all these things, and then quite literally be around, married and tied to someone who represents the COMPLETE OPPOSITE.

You just cannot.

I’m rambling now which wasn’t my intention. My head is pounding. I literally cannot believe any of this, I just can’t. After all these years, after everything - this is what it’s come to? Her? And it’s just so many layers of it too - the age gap, the optics of how they look together only making the difference even more apparent, her *film* history, her personal history, the fucking trolling and lying and manipulating, and then all the racism and everything else tied to it. I just…

He’s a cliche. He truly is.

We thought he was different. We thought he was better.

But it was all a facade.

Because he actually, truly isn’t.

And I’m rambling again…I’m so sorry.

Going back to the whole reason why I even reached out in the first place, I just really need advice on how the hell to get over this and move on. I actually hate that this is even affecting me as much as it is. After Bermuda, I just knew it was coming, but I honestly didn’t believe it was happening until much later, so I barely was able to mentally and emotionally prepare myself fully.

And ngl, but I was still holding out hope. I really was, because I just couldn’t believe or even process the thought of him actively choosing this with her, after everything. I just couldn’t wrap my head around him not being who I thought and truly believed he was. But now…

I am just in such shock, anger, disappointment and complete sadness.

So I really need to know, how is everyone else getting through this?

Any tips? Any advice?

I truly don’t know what to do with myself atp.

It’s like a major car wreckage or something, I know some people will say to just turn away and don’t look, but I honestly can’t stop looking because I know more developments are coming.

Anyway, I know I sound a certain way now, “unhinged” but I honestly don’t even care. I know my feelings are valid and I’m not alone. And I understand this has happened with other fandoms too unfortunately. I know life goes on and we all will eventually move on too, with time. I know we will. But getting there, it’s going to be so hard and honestly, it may even take longer than expected.

Again, any guidance, any words of comfort, anything at all, I just need someone to share something.

If you do post and answer this, Mandy - thank you in advance for giving me this space. 💜

Hi hon. I'm not quite sure what to say, because I don't know if I have any advice on that..

For me it's been a long process of slowly getting more and more tired of it/him/them. My breaking point was definitely the Ghosted premiere, things changed for me after that.

I can definitely understand why a lot of people are having a hard time right now, and I know it's going to take time for people to move on from something like this. Fandoms run very deep, especially on a site like here where there's content being made and you kind of get to dive into it more than usual.

But I think the first step is distancing. After the Ghosted premiere, I unfollowed a ton of fan blogs. I didn't want to see him on my dash bc I just got annoyed every time, and I unfollowed the blogs that were like keeping us updated on what he was doing etc.

It may be beneficial for you to unfollow the people who are putting his pictures etc on your dash, or talking about him (this could even include blogs like mine. It may be easier to take a clean break) you can even filter out his name on here and other SM (I've done that for insta and tiktok, for example) and it really is true that if something is out of sight, it's out of mind.

I'm sorry you're feeling sad. It really sucks, I get that. I hope you know that a lot of people share that feeling with you right now.

But to be honest, the only good tool I know for helping with any of this is distance. Distance yourself from him/his content etc. This means stop liking and watching his edits on tiktok, cleanse your insta so he doesn't show up on your explore page, unfollow fan blogs and accounts (even though a lot have already deactivated lol). If you read fanfics, maybe stop reading about him.

Another thing that has helped me immensely is adopting the mindset that the real person is a different entity from the characters. At this point, in my mind, his characters have absolutely nothing to do with the person himself. This is what has helped me to continue writing for so long, for example.

Otherwise it's just about time. The wound is fresh right now, so to speak, so of course it'll be worst now. But it will pass. In time, it's going to be this thing you felt that you don't even know why you did because he really ain't shit. He's not worth all of these terrible things people are feeling right now, I promise you he's not.

He doesn't appreciate or care about his fans, why should you care so much about him?

I know this may not be the things you'd want to hear but I don't know what else to say.... But I hope it helps even just a little bit ❤️

#mandy answers #chris evans

[webbo0]

*Cowboy voice* “I Ain’t Quitting You”

Holland March x Jackson Healy

AO3 link

Length: 2,183 words

Summary:

"In my psychology class, we talked about something called an Oral Fixation; Freud made it up. Maybe you just need to have something else to like, chew on and stuff." "Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this —" "Oh my god, Dad, just get some gum or whatever!" AKA 7 things Holland March tries to help him quit drinking, plus the 1 time Jackson Healy helps him out. AKA Holland does NOT have an oral fixation, Thank you very much

Content/Warning: Idiot to lovers, Oral Fixation, Kissing, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smoking, Sobriety, Quitting Smoking, Post-Canon, chosen family, 5+1 Things, technically it's 7 + 1 things, slight angst, Mature Content, implied/referenced sexuality

Authors Note: This is actually the first fic I ever published back in September '23, but I never posted it to Tumblr, so here ya go!

Original Notes:

Welp. I finally did it. Almost a decade in fandoms and it was Ryan fucking Gosling that made me cave and finally write fanfiction. Shoutout to the Goosecord for the motivation/encouragement to write this and for the feedback, especially @sandpapersnowman for helping me format this for AO3!! Y'all are the best!!

Anyways enjoy!!

***

"March, we gotta talk."

Holland jerks up and immediately regrets it when his head pounds and everything tilts about 270° too far to the left. He groans and falls off the bed. Bed? He doesn’t remember getting there. Or undressing, apparently, because looking down, he quickly realizes he’s wearing nothing but some embarrassingly old boxers. And Healy’s standing above him. Holland scrambles back into bed and covers himself in a blanket.

"Stop pretending I haven’t seen you half-naked before. You’re acting like a Victorian duchess."

"A man must preserve his — hrrk — dignity," Holland retorts back in a bad British accent, having to pause and suppress a wave of nausea halfway through his sentence.

Healy scoffs

"Dignity, my ass! Holly found you passed out on the diving board. You could’ve gotten hurt! Again!"

Holland feels suddenly defensive. "And why do you care? What are you, my fairy drunk-mother?" Not your best comeback there, March, he thinks.

"You’re my business partner; I have a vested interest in having an income, so forgive me if I want my co-detective alive to work with me. You need to stop drinking."

Holland rolls his eyes. "I’ve got it under control, Healy. I’m a big boy, y’know?" God, he wishes he could take a nap right now.

"March, I’m serious; you’re going to do permanent damage to your liver. Plus," Healy hesitates as if he’s trying to figure out a way to finish his sentence without sounding like an asshole, "it’s not fair to Holly. You’re the only family she’s got left; you have to be there for her. She’s a teenager now and needs someone to guide her through adolescent idiocy. You’re her dad, you owe it to her."

That wakes him up. He’s always pushed down the guilt he has over his behavior, but when Healy lays it all out in front of him like that? He knows he’s deluded himself for years into thinking Holly wouldn’t notice, but she’s not a kid anymore. And the thought of her as an impressionable teenager following in his footsteps makes him nauseous for a whole different reason.

He sighs.

"Alright, alright, cut my balls off, why don’tcha? But fine, I get it."

"Thank you," Healy looks relieved.

"I can’t just quit cold chicken, though, withdrawals can be dead—"

"Turkey"

"Hm?" "The phrase is cold turkey."

"No, I’m pretty sure it's chicken."

"Why would it be — never mind. And yeah, it would be pretty dangerous to just stop altogether. What if we cut it down to one drink a day?"

"One? No way, pal, three a day minimum."

"Three?! There is something seriously wrong with you, March."

"Hey!"

An hour of negotiations later, they settle on a begrudged compromise.

That was a month ago, and Holland was regretting ever saying yes to the whole stupid plan. To substitute for the flask he always took a swig from whenever he needed to calm his nerves, he kept an extra pack of cigarettes, so he was smoking twice as much as usual. And Holly isn't a fan of his new habit. It’s a Monday morning, and Holland sits at the table, sipping his coffee, while Holly gets ready for school. Healy had stopped by to drop off some paperwork for their latest case, and now, for some inexplicable reason, is making them all pancakes. He bites back a comment about him making a great housewife and instead turns to Holly, arms out for a hug. She had a big test today and has insisted on the Mandatory Good Luck Hug before tests since kindergarten. She makes a face at him.

"Ugh, Dad, you smell gross!"

Tchk. Teenagers. "Holly, it’s rude to say that to someone’s face."

"It's true, March, you smell like an ashtray had sex with another ashtray," Healy comments from his place in front of the stove, not even turning around.

"Yeah, and then their house burned down." Holly adds, "You do know those will kill you one day, right?"

"Pfft, no way! Doctors used to give these to you! My own father had a prescription for a pack a day!"

Healy turns around. "Didn't he die of lung cancer?"

"Yeah, why?"

Healy pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he has a headache brewing.

Holly waltzes into the kitchen and steals a pancake from the ever-growing stack.

"In my psychology class, we talked about something called an Oral Fixation; Freud made it up. Maybe you just need to have something else to like, chew on and stuff."

"Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this —"

"Oh my God, Dad, just get some gum or whatever!"

She still leans in for a half hug while wrinkling her nose, because tradition is tradition. As she walks to the bus stop, Holland considers her words. Was he obsessed with things in his mouth? He took a sip of coffee before anyone could notice his face flushing a lovely shade of magenta.

The first thing he tries is Holly’s initial suggestion: gum. He gets a shit ton of flavors to try to find one he won’t get tired of. He settles on Bubblicious watermelon wave. The idea is largely effective, and Holland's smoking is cut down to what Holly decides is a "normal amount."

Unfortunately, Holland has the manners of a barn animal, so after only nine days of chewing with his mouth open non-stop, Healy is about to strangle him.

"March, buddy, I’m glad this is helping with your ‘mouth thing’," he starts. Holland opens his mouth to protest before Healy quickly cuts him off to finish. "But we have to figure something else out before I make the ‘arm incident’ look like a harmless prank."

Holland shuts up. No problem, he’ll find something else. He was getting tired of the gum sticking to his teeth anyway.

Holland’s next plan; a toothpick. More similar in shape to a cigarette and they last much longer. Bonus points: Holly thinks he looks “far out”. This plan lasts about 3 seconds before he gets a splinter in his gums. Toothpick is out.

Plan C is to just chew on the end of his pen as he works. Holland thinks it makes him look distinguished. Healy’s just kinda grossed out. Everything is fine until he finds a break in their case, jumps up in excitement, and promptly inhales the pen cap. Healy has to use the damn Heimlich maneuver on him, frantically grabbing him and squeezing harder than Holland thinks is necessary. But what does he know? And, wow, he definitely isn’t thinking about how Healy's strong arms feel around him.

When Healy silently hands him a teething ring meant for fussy toddlers, Holland almost punches him (attempted sobriety has him more on edge than usual). But hearing Holly’s muffled hysterics around the corner instantly dissolves his irritation. Something about Jackson and Holly working together just makes his heart flutter.

And sometimes, when he’s sure no one is looking, he’ll hold up the ring on a chain around his neck to his mouth. Softly, not biting or chewing, just letting it rest between his lips. And no matter what Jackson softly asks him one night, tears are not falling down his face. Those are the nights he really regrets cutting down on his drinking.

It’s when he starts keeping a lollipop in his mouth most of the day he notices Healy acting… Different. When Holland’s doing his work, going over papers and poring over phone books, he lets himself loosen up. Often he’ll tap his pen in random patterns, or jiggle his leg up and down (which drives Healy crazy), or more recently, he’ll hold his lollipop between his fingers like a cigarette and slowly lick circles around it. It’s a mindless behavior that helps him concentrate, but for some reason, Healy doesn’t like it. March can tell. He notices Healy glance at him and then darts his eyes down as if it weirds him out just to witness it. It hurts; Healy knows how much Holland is trying to be better, why would he judge him for how he’s coping? He tries to brush it off, wondering why it bothers him so much; he should be used to people not getting him by now.

They’re sitting next to each other on the couch in Holland’s living room, working on their latest case. It’s late at night and Holly is sleeping at a friend’s house for a birthday party. Holland is losing himself in the details of this case (who kidnaps a pet snake??) when he senses Healy’s attention on his mouth, which he currently occupies with a new blue raspberry lollipop.

After the fifth time Holland catches Healy staring at his mouth he snaps.

“I know I’m a fuck-up and everything but can you at least try to hide how much you —"

He’s cut off when something covers his lips. Oh. When Healy covers his lips. With his mouth. Oh. Holland’s brain takes about three seconds to catch up with what’s happening. Jackson’s kissing him. Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Jackson must’ve taken his frozen state as rejection because he quickly pulls back. Holland almost whines from the loss of contact.

“Fuck. Fuck! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry, Holland,” Jackson runs a hand through his hair, clearly panicking, “You’ve just been such a goddamn tease with the fuckin’, whatever it is you’re doing with those lollipops and I couldn’t hel—”

This time he’s cut off from finishing his sentence by Holland grabbing his face and kissing him so hard he’s distantly worried about breaking Jackson’s nose. Holland’s hands rest on the side of Jackson’s face and cup the back of his neck, bracing himself in a desperate attempt to hide how much he’s shaking. Jackson’s lips are firm and his 3-day-old stubble is rough against his skin; one of his hands automatically threads into Holland’s hair, and the other hovers over his side before settling on his hips. He squeezes and the feeling goes straight to Holland’s dick. He lets out a wet groan into Jackson’s mouth who responds with a deep rumble.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Jackson growls, pulling away from Holland to let him catch his breath.

“Tell me,” is all that Holland responds, dipping his head and latching his mouth to Jackson’s neck, drawing out a strangled gasp.

“Since the day you fell asleep on my shoulder during that stakeout, and grabbed onto me like a fucked-up koala. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you,” Jackson is visibly struggling to keep his composure as Holland's fingers move to the buttons on Jackson's shirt, frantically undoing them and pushing his hands under the cheap cotton. Holland moves his mouth down his neck, biting and sucking and doing things with his tongue that must be good because Jackson is making sounds that frankly should be illegal.

“Maybe Holly’s right, you really have a fixation on —”

Jackson yelps before he can finish his thought because Holland bites down hard into the soft skin of Jackson’s shoulder.

“Please don't mention my daughter while I’m giving you hickeys, it’s weird,” Holland mumbles while sucking what is sure to be a large dark splotch into Jackson’s collarbone.

“What I’m saying,” Jackson starts, as he grabs Holland's hair and jerks his head up to look him in the eyes, pupil’s blown. Holland would’ve whined from the loss of contact if he wasn’t moaning from Jackson’s hand tugging against his scalp.

“What I’m saying, is that maybe you just need to be doing something useful for once with that pretty little mouth besides drinking and talking non-stop.”

“And smoking, can’t forget all the smo—” Jackson shuts him up by shoving the thumb of the hand not tangled in his hair into Holland’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He moans around his hand in a way he knows must sound obscene. Jackson curses as Holland simultaneously starts sucking his fingers like it’s his job and fumbling with the buckle on Jackson’s jeans.

“God, you are something special, Holland,” he murmurs softly, and Jackson says his name with such reverence that if Holland doesn’t get the other man’s pants off immediately, he might explode.

He drops to his knees between Jackson’s thick thighs, because if everyone and their mother were so insistent he has this ‘mouth fixation’ or whatever, he might as well blow their expectations out of the water.

Heh, blow. Good one March.

He stares at the crotch of Jackson’s jeans, already starting to drool.

___

After that night, Holland sticks with the lollipops (now sugar-free, because his dentist nearly had a conniption when he last went in for a cleaning). No longer worried about Healy’s judgment, he loosens up and allows himself to fidget weirdly in peace. And if he and Jackson are alone on the nights when needs a little help with his mouth thing (because fine, yes, he might have a little fixation. Sue him), and he’s having a particularly hard time not turning to his vices? Well, that’s between him, his gag reflex, and Freud.

***

Hope y'all enjoyed!!! You get bonus points if you find all the other Ryan Gosling movie references Again, this is the first full fic I've written so any and all feedback is welcomed!

#the nice guys #holland march #jackson healy #holly march #Holland x Jackson #the nice guys fic #holland march x jackson healy #the nice guys fanfiction #holland march fanfic #ryan gosling #healland #Holland March fanfiction #fanfiction #ryan gosling fanfic #my writing

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

Why Ava Silva is the hero we need

Alright, let’s talk about it. I’ve watched A LOT of television over the years and there’s nothing I love more than genre storytelling. Give me an ass-kicking, self-sacrificing female lead who gives everything and still saves the day. And let’s be honest there’s plenty of shows to choose from: Xena to Buffy to Supergirl to animated girlies like Korra and She-Ra and that trope is available in spades. With great power comes great responsibility and all these characters are constantly trying to serve the greater good despite the cost. 

And then there’s Ava Silva. She’s already dead when we first meet her and what’s most tragic of all is that she was never able to properly live. A most likely orphaned quadriplegic who’s abused and then murdered by the nun who was charged with caring for her - it’s about as devastating a backstory as you can get. She never has agency over her life or even her death in fact. She’s revived by chance when her corpse is used to hide the halo. She has no say in any of it. Her initial life is destroyed by the car accident that kills her mom, she’s murdered and can’t even rest in peace before being resurrected to then live a second life in which she’s told she has to fight for the Catholic Church (an institution that has only ever caused her harm) and then discovers that her newly granted role of Warrior Nun means she’ll most likely soon die again. Despite all this though (and because of it really) Ava appreciates life. Truly and fully. In a way that we’ve never really gotten to see before. In fact, she’s even selfish about it! How dare “the chosen one” run away in pursuit of her own happiness above all. 

In Ava, I’m reminded most of Buffy and the speech she gives to Giles at the end of the first season when she has to come to terms with her imminent death. She’s only sixteen and has to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders. She just wants to be a normal teenager but instead has to become the Slayer. 

Like Ava, Buffy dies (twice!). She cracks jokes like Ava makes puns and is extremely loyal to her friends/found family. The biggest difference between these two heroines though becomes apparent when in season six Buffy is ripped from the afterlife and has to fight again. Buffy wanting to be dead was such an insane twist. Shouldn’t the hero want to live? 

Buffy’s sacrifice is still some of television’s greatest storytelling. The show was originally going to end there before finding life on a different network (say what you will about that) but for the time it was also a powerful choice. 

Fast forward twenty years and along comes Warrior Nun. At this point heroes sacrificing themselves has become the norm. They’re supposed to die. Weighted down by the responsibility of life and “the hardest thing in this world is to live in it” feels like the truest of statements. And let’s be honest, life IS hard. But then there’s Ava. 

She appreciates what life can offer. She runs, she stuffs her face with food, she dances, she drinks, she loves deeply and learns to appreciate every sunrise. She doesn’t offer any pretenses about the fulfillment of death and through Ava as an audience we’re reminded of how precious and fleeting and affirming life can be. It’s such an incredibly important message because Warrior Nun wholly embraces (and shows us) what it means to live in a way that genre storytelling hasn’t always been able to. 

Of course, Ava still has to sacrifice herself. It wouldn’t be a proper end of the world genre show if she didn’t and her journey to making this decision is what makes this show so good (bless Avatrice). Warrior Nun’s cancellation particularly stings because of this. We still need Ava to have her happy ending. At the very least we’re currently left with the semblance of divinium-fueled hope (thank you Simon Barry!). We know Ava comes back - here’s to hoping the show gets to as well. 

#warrior nun #save warrior nun #ava silva #alba baptista #buffy #tv: btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #just a bit of analysis so I don't lose my mind #genre tv #I could write a whole book analyzing what the hero's journey looks like in warrior nun #this post barely grazes the surface #also thank you gif makers

[shadowofahope]

Fallen Star

Pairing: Hyunjin!Driver/bodyguard/alien x princess reader

Warning: Much angst, toxic family, controlling home life.

Premise: A mistake always turning to the stars for an escape. But it turns out the star you had always wished for had fallen right in front of you.

word count: 5.1K

Authors notes: *WARNING* LOVE LETTER INCOMING: I need to give credit to the truly amazing @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue for being my never ending inspiration for this fic. Honestly, the ideas behind the story and the feel/details of the banner all of it I sneakily asked her questions and then used her answers against her. But in all realness, thank you so much for giving me support in my writing journey. Legit one of my most favourite people in the whole world, so if you have never read anything from her before I highly recommend it. You are missing out on some absolute genius, especially in the angst department!!

masterlist

If he thinks he can just marry you off for his benefit he seriously had another thing coming. An arranged marriage to an old man? Did he assume you’d go quietly? Or does he really just not care? 

You laugh at yourself. Of course he doesnt. This was a new low, even for him. He couldn’t control you like your siblings so instead of having to deal with you he sells you off the highest bidder. You’d show him how much trouble you could be. 

Staring out of the back passenger car window, you watch your breath fog a small part of the cold glass before it recedes. It blocks your view from what you really want to see, so you roll down the window. There’s no clouds in the dark sky tonight, no wind either. But the chilled breeze from the car speeding down the backroads rushes into the car. Making you wish you were driving away from it all and not back to it. You asked the driver to take a long way back, so you could gaze out into a world you only wished to be apart of. 

“I’d give anything to escape from here…” You sigh, your mind wandering to the stars above. To what else could be out there. “...to be with the stars.”

“Anything?” A soothing melodic voice travels from the drivers seat. Unbeknownst to you the partition had been lowered. 

You let out a startled noise, you knew that voice, and the angelic person who had that voice. That person was not supposed to be driving you tonight. His presence alone would be enough to make you antsy, but in this moment couldn’t have been worse. 

“I’m sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He politely directs his worry to you through the rearview mirror. 

You make eye contact with him through the reflection as you roll up the window, “No it’s ok. I was lost in thought.” 

You can’t maintain staring into his alluring eyes, breaking away you let yourself once again stare at the night landscape. 

“I did notice something on your mind when you got in. I know it may not be my place to ask but, is everything ok?” 

“Hyunjin, I’ve told you before you can speak freely with me. We are the same age.” You let out an airy chuckle, shaking your head. Your eyes never leaving it’s chosen star. 

“I know miss, sometimes I forget.” He laughs cheerfully back at you. “Bad news at dinner?”

“Apparently my hand in marriage has been accepted.” You huff. There’s no point in hiding your annoyance. As much as Hyunjin made the butterflies in your stomach act as thought they had been given some form of accelerant, he was the only one around you that you could talk to like this. 

“Marriage?” If you didn’t know any better you’d say there was a bite to his words. “With who?”

“Lord Tun. He’s over twice my age.” You complain bitterly, the dress chosen for you for dinner becoming itchy, a burning sensation lingering. That’s why your parents had bought it for you. To appeal to the mans desires, your hopes of them wanting to buy you something out of the warmth of their heart dashed. You wanted to burn this vile, uncomfortable fabric…not to mention it’s ugly colour against your skin did you no favours. “He originally asked for my older sisters hand in good faith of the new trading merger. But my father said ‘Elise deserves better then he could provide’, so he offered me as substitute. He says it’s my duty.”

 You sink back into your seat, quickly looking over to see his reaction. He doesn’t say anything. His eyes stay trained to the road. Maybe he’s just ask shocked as you are? He knows just as anyone working for your family how you are perceived in this world. The accident that could only ever be useless. 

Growing up you had tried to follow the rules. You had been called an accident since you were young, and you understood exactly what that implied for you. But still you worked hard to achieve as much as your siblings. At first you had even surpassed them in most areas; quickly you realized just how much that didn’t matter to your parents. It never mattered if your grades were bad, you understood the family politics, you became fluent in every language that your family had ties with, the instruments you played…the list went on. Your place in the family never changed. Your parents still looked at you with a heavy detest in their eyes it eventually shut down your want to appease them. 

So you stopped the extra lessons and changed your path. You took up watercolour painting and cooking. Even turning your studies to the stars and universe above you. Your parents never knew because they took no notice. 

Infatuation didn’t even cover your love for the science of other galaxies, obsession might be a better word. Spending hours upon hours leisurely reading everything you could on them. A single wish of being able to see it all yourself. 

But you were here, on earth, the last place you wanted to be.

“Duty….since when have I ever had a duty to uphold?” Looking to the moon for solace, you let your anger simmer. A hesitant silence looms over you both before he speaks again.

“You are a princess, miss.”

You could feel the bile from your stomach threaten to claw up your throat, “just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I don’t deserve love.”

👑 👑 

“Guards!” Your fathers aggravating voice booms through the castles library hall. The main doors fly open and two large men rush through, you don’t have time to react before they are each grabbing one of your arms. “Escort the princess back to her room.”

“You think locking me up will get me to agree?” Straining against the hard hands on you, you push forward.

“Agreeance or not, you will marry Lord Tun. It’s your choice whether you go peacefully or if I have to drag you the whole way there.” He threatens. His cold eyes trained on your blazing ones. “You should be thankful your life has a purpose, thankful that anyone would be willing to marry you.

“THANKFUL?!” Throat burning, the acidic taste from your stomach makes your voice hoarse. Your legs kick out in fury, shoving at the men surrounding you.  “Should I be thankful that my existence means nothing to you?”

“Finally you can be useful to this family.” He slams the book you were studying before he entered onto the table. He’s watching your reaction, the calculation in his eyes making your blood boil. “No more of these ridiculous ventures. They have made you obstinate and disrespectful. Your empty head is only filled with pathetic knowledge, making you unusable in any other way. You owe it to this family to be obedient in this marriage.”

“You know nothing of me!” You scream, throwing your whole body at him. Never in your life have you ever wanted to use violence until this moment, even more so on your father. Your anger numbs you to the pain in your arms, the bruises forming from the two men holding you back. “I owe you NOTHING.”

“You owe me your LIFE.” He barks art you, slamming his foot on the hardwood. This time you do flinch. “And I will do with it as I see fit.” 

Adjusting his robes he signals at the guards holding you.

“Take her. Her room shall be locked until I call for her presence.”

As they pull you away, your body goes limp. Every word you thought your parents felt about you had now been expressed out loud. You let them drag you into the room, throwing you onto the bed you catch yourself. Eyes and mind glazing over with tears and rage. But not enough to not hear one of them mumble ‘ungreatful’ under their breath. 

The doors slam shut with such force it shakes the paintings on your wall. The loud metal clank of the door locking seals your mouth as you fall onto the bed, angry tears stream down your face as you let yourself give in to exhaustion.

👑 👑 

It had been hours since your door was locked, food had been slid in on a silver tray but you had refused to eat it. The anger in your body making your desire for food vanish for the night. When they had collected the still full tray you had attempted to rush whoever was at the door to escape. However, your plans were in vain as there were two guards with the kitchen maid. It felt as though you had run into a wall when you collided with them. 

You couldn’t tell how long you had sat there, curled up on the cold marble floor, the only warmth coming from your thin day dress. Tears drying up after admitting to yourself that you were an animal locked in a cage, and that’s all you would ever be. A small canary locked in a desolate, rusty cage watching the bright, endless sky in longing.

The sky had begun to darken through your balcony window, the shadows in your room first receding then becoming new in the moons light. Your glazed eyes only focused on the floor, silence cutting you deeper and deeper as the hours ticked by. Wishing for things that could never happen.

Wishing to be free…free to go where you wanted. Free to see the world, all worlds. Free to love. Love? The image of the beautiful long haired blonde man flashes through the stars in your mind. His slender silhouette in the forefront of your mind appears in the shadows on the floor, not sure if you’re imagining it or if it could be real. Either way you don’t move, you can’t. Body frozen in place. 

“Miss?” A soothing concerned voice dances on the still air, stirring you from your trance. Your eyes gradually moving up to the glass doors, now open, the warm air covers you, the delusions of a man you can never be with melts away. The realization is slow to you, leaving the real man in your bedroom. 

“Hyunjin?” You croak quietly, voice catching as it feels like it’s tearing through your throat. 

He rushes over to you, warm hands cupping your cheeks searching through the depths to find you again. 

“I’m here, princess.” He urges, the tone in his voice is something you can’t place, but you’re too lost in your sadness. His presense pulling you out little by little. “You’re not alone.” 

Swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth feels rough but it gives you just enough relief to speak.

“How come when you call me princess it sounds so nice, but from others it sounds like a threat?” Softly chuckling to yourself, you see a glimmer in his eyes. A smile forming on his angelic face. If not for your state of mind, you would never speak like this outloud around him. The butterflies normally causing chaos in your stomach are fluttering with a want to fall deeper into his eyes. 

His thumb begins to caress the plump skin on your cheeks, “My princess.”

Realzing you’ve exposed yourself, you begin to feel your body heat up. Embarrassment invades your sense, your cheeks and eyes giving you away. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, enclosing his hands in yours and pulling them away from your face. Not really letting go of them, for fear of dropping again. 

“I have to show you something.” He stares down at your hands on his, hesitantly feeling the soft flesh of your delicate hands.

Hearing footsteps pass by your door, you glance at the menacing wooden behemoths. Do you risk going with him? The possibilities of him being punished for helping you break out of your dim cell are endless. You have no idea what your father would do to him, but whatever it would be would be wishing for death. 

Or do you throw all concers away? He risked so much to just come here, he knows how bad this could be…but still he came.

“Will you come with me?” There’s almost a pleading sound in his voice, strained in a way. You look back to him. On his knees infront of you on the marble floor, large hands in yours, dressed in black only with a wish for you to go with him. Something unspoken passes in his eyes, you vaguely see it before it’s gone.

“Yes.” You sound out of breath when you finally answer. His smile knocking the wind out of you. He jumps to his feet, pulling you up with him, never letting go as he runs the both of you to the balcony. You peer over the edge, 3 stories down is the lush green grass and flower beds. You assumed he had climbed up something, but you see nothing he could have used.

“How-?” You cut yourself off, dry laugh stopping you from even finishing your thought. From all the times you’ve known Hyunjin you’ve learned not to ask. Somethings about him could be explained, but others seemed too impossible to try.

“Do you trust me?” He dead pans for a moment before raising an eyebrow to you.

“Always.” 

If tonight was the last night you could be yourself, to truly let yourself feel things you never let yourself before, then no more acting coy. No more covering it up. Honesty for one night, before the rest of your life lying, lies entrapping you to be who your family demanded of you. 

He steps up onto the stone edge of the balcony, hand reaching out to help you alongside him. You don’t hesitate as you follow him up. The height dizzying you, you clasp harder onto him. He lets out a small laugh as his arms reach around you, one around your back and the other under your legs. 

You squeak in surprise. You had not been expecting to be carried bridal style in this situation. Your arms loop around his neck, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Still trust me?” Mischief cracks onto his features. 

“Al~wa~ys~” You dare him.

“Close your eyes then.” He whispers into your ear, to which you do so. Now whether that was from the closeness of his voice and breath on your skin or just following commands, you didn’t know. 

Regardless, before you can even process you feel a rush of wind race past you, your body feeling momentarily light before gravity restarted. 

“It’s time to run princess.” His soft voice sings. You peer one eye open, the other quickly following when see that you are now on the grass. No questions, you warn yourself. He gently places you back on your feet, this time it’s you who extends your hand for him to take before running off into the surrounding forest. 

You don’t know where you’re running, but it doesn’t matter. Everything that’s happening in these past moments, could all be a dream. Even if this turns out ot be one for now you would fully embrace it. Before long he’s overtaking you, his enchanting laugh fills your ears as he directs you deeper and deeper into the wooded dangerous area. The light of the moon beaks through the tops of the trees, your lunges inflating with an air you had missed. 

You both burst through the tree line, illuminated by the stars and moon is a small clearing. A pond reflects back the night sky creating even more of an endless illusion. You walk past him as he slows, dropping his hand to full take in all that is around you. For the first time in what feels like forever your heart feels full, full of life, full of wonder, full of joy. 

Your breath stops, heart beats wildly when you look to him. His hair even more golden by the moon, skin so smooth like diamond, eyes showing exactly what you see when you gaze upwards. You can’t think of what to say…. There’s so much unknown about him, so much more that you want to know. Trying to regain your thoughts when he appears like this proves futile.

“Would you honour me with a dance princess?” He bows, before reaching out a hand. You can’t help but laugh, thoughts returning to you. 

“You’re supposed to be showing me something” You squint at him, smirk on your face. 

He steps up to you, his breath on your skin makes you shudder. Closer then you thought you could have, but not close enough to what you wanted. 

“One dance” His pointer finger shows the number as he pouts cutely at you. 

“One.” You agree, giving in all too easy.

He takes a step back to allow himself room to offer you his hand. His smile taking a mischievous turn, you laugh as you accept it. Instantly the subdued butterflies are beginning to become jittery as they normally do when he is close to you. 

Pulling you close he wraps his other arm around you, you fight against the sound wanting to announce your inner thoughts as his body becomes flush with yours. You remember yourself enough to lift your arm to rest on his shoulder. He starts you both off in a casual step, occasional spins making you feel more light headed… maybe it wasn’t the spins….becuase when you come back to him, his smile is blinding. 

The dance becomes more complex, lifts and turns you’ve never done before. But here, in his arms it all seems familiar. Every move playfully calculated by him to make you laugh, to make you feel giddy and light. This is a moment you’ve only seen in your dreams, but somehow it’s real. 

The warmth of his hand on your lower back. The firm safety of his arm around you. The sturdy comfort of his chest pressed to yours. You’re too afraid to blink, terrified to miss a single moment. A moment that could come crashing to an end in a split second.

A slow dip takes you by surprise as he pulls you back up this time faces only inches apart, his face aglow with a purple light. The whole clearing is now covered in purple. He keeps you close, continuing to dance with you eyes locked on your reactions. Your mind is spinning, confusion on how there could be light this far in. Curiosity gets the better of you, tilting your head back to look up. 

In that moment, every unexplainable thing about Hyunjin is no longer out of your grasp. A purple beam of light trails straight out and down of the bottom of what to appears as a circular ship. Decorated with many white lights and grey features you cannot see in the midst of the shadows it is making on itself.

“It’s …” He slows your dance as he waits for your response. You don’t even register the fear in his trembling figure as you step back. Breaking contact to observe more carefully.

 “It’s beautiful” A smile from your heart appears on your face, eyes showing the purple lights dancing in them. Everything you wanted to escape was right there, even if you weren’t meant to leave, your dreams of it existing was something astonishing. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

You feel your heart constrict. The heaviness now returning. Reality of what this meant for you…for him..for you both setting in. 

“I see you.” Is all you can manage to say, body betraying you as tears stream down your face. He’s with you in an instant, cupping your face adn wiping them away. 

“You see what I truly am. But you don’t know my heart. Not yet,” The pleading in his eyes returns. His voice shaking as he speaks. “The only reason i stayed, the only reason I took this job. Was to stay close to you, I adored the way you were. I wanted to be able to watch you become something magnificent. But I can’t let you go without telling you….”

“Telling you how much I love you.” 

One sentence from him simultaneously breaks your heart and heals all of your past, in an instant. Choking on your tears you can’t find words. As much as you loved him, could you accept that he wasn’t from your world? Could you run away from your life and family just liked you always dreamed? Did you love him enough? Did you truly know what love was? 

“You don’t have to say anything. Please just listen to my last request-” You can only nod at him. “In two days time I have to leave, I have to go back home to my planet, but I want you to come with me. I want to give you everything in this universe and more.”

Your wide eyes stricken with panic fill with more tears. He’s leaving? But he wants you to go with him… You didn’t know what to do.

“No, no, don’t panic.” He reads your emotions quickly. “I’ll be here before I leave, I can wait till then for your answer. I won-”

“Princess!” An angry dark shout breaks the moment, dreadful silence following after. 

 The ships lights turn out and it disappears completely, before you’re brain has time to catch up.

“There looking for me.” Now panic for a different reason rises. Your eyes dart around the edges of the clearing. Nothing visible yet, there’s still time. “You need to run.”

“What? No, princess.” His face morphing to confusion and concern.

“Please? For me, run. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You beg, holding his hands to your chest. To let him feel the calm stray rhythm of your heart. “Besides what can they do to me? Lock me in a room and marry me off to some old guy?”

Your joke lacks any humour, as you both know what your asking him to do. 

“I promise to think about it, I promise to give you an answer, but you need to run.” You’re mind set, watching the emotions play through his eyes. “Please?”

He kisses your forehead before retreating back, the voices getting angrier as they approach. 

“I’ll be here. I’ll wait.” He takes off running. 

You become breathless as a cluster of Guards find you alone in the clearing. “You better feel lucky that we found you when we did, you’re father was demanding your head at one point.” 

You roll your eyes as you’re dragged back to the castle, steeling yourself for the punishment you were about to recieve. 

👑 👑 

“I hate this colour…” You mumble to yourself, staring at the ballgown chosen by your family. Not only was it a colour you didn’t like, but it has a terrible silhouette, uncomfortable material, but it was also to mark you as the bride to be tonight. 

You tsk angrily at it once again as you saunter over to your window. Barred balcony doors now only letting you catch a glimpse of the night sky. 

A night had already passed since you were seized and detained at the palace again. He said he’d wait for you, but you had no way of getting there. No way of sending any sign of your situation. And of course tonight of all nights Lord Tun and your parents had decided would be the engagement party.

A knock at your door tears you away from your angry stupor. 

“Come in.” You call, unmoving. You hear the door creak open and rustling drawing near.

“Princess, a gift has been delivered to you.” One of your families longterm maids informs you. She was the only person in this retched place that had any pity and remorse towards you. She learned quickly to never show it infront of your family, but you knew she was always worried for you. 

“What is it?” You question, a gift? Who would send you a gift? “A dress?”

She hangs the large garment bag from the clothing rack. Unzipping the white cloth and revealing the most beautiful gown you had ever seen. Layers upon layers of a soft grey material, in sections almost seeming black incredibly detailed with silver lining. Sparkles catching the light upon every movement, dusted over the whole gown but concentrated around the hem. It was like stars in the night sky.

“Who?”

“I would assume the boy that sees the stars in you.” She offers. “I may be old, but I am not blind.”

“Do you think it’s too late?” 

She contemplates your question only for a moment before giving a devilish smile, “I say, give them one hell of a show and start running.”

👑 🛸🪐 

Running up each step, you’d lost your shoes long ago, dress hicked up so you won’t have to worry about tripping. You can’t afford to let anything slow you down, can’t look back. 

You swing the wood door open to the maids quarters, the metal key on the bed as she said it would be. Dashing through through the chamber you grab the cold key, palms sweaty you hold it to your chest. Your feet are numb to the pain of fleeing the Engagment party.  You turn down corridor after corridor, evading everyone frantically searching for you. 

Your lungs burn from not taking in enough air, but you ignore it. Nothing would stop you from getting out of this palace. Nothing.

So close are you to the hidden back door, the door only the maids know about. Your only true escape route.

There was no way you’d be forgiven for the scene you caused at the party. Making a grand entrance in the dress he left for you. The anger in your heart you finally spoke allowed, watching as the perfect faces cracked as your voice words assaulted them like a flaming train wreck. Maybe flipping the cake onto your parents as you ran past them was on the petty side, but by the stars it made you feel better. 

The shelving unit that hides the door comes into sight. Crashing into it, you push it aside, arms trembling with exhaustion. The key smoothly slides in the door, flinging it open you’re overwhelmed with the cool night air. Grabbing your skirt once again you waste no time. You take off running towards the clearing you have not been able to forget. The secret memories you’ve held onto for so long, flood your mind as you break the outer tree line.

Late nights sneaking out the court yards to watch the young boy train with the others. The pretty, soft face your butterflies first took flight for. His limbs long and thin, making him look awkward as he tried to keep up. You’d laugh at his endearing attempts, but your heart stirred. Eventually he grew into himself, his body being lean with muscle, every move becoming sure and strong. With that more fascination grew.

Sneaking around to catch glimpses of his combat training weren't enough. When he took on the roll of driver you were beside yourself when you found out he would be your alternate driver on occasions. That in itself made you show up at more family events, much to your dismay and parents approval of appearances. But having him for any moment for yourself made all the nights worth it. 

Catching any sight of him in the palace walls made the torment more bearable. The first time you had a real conversation on a drive back from an event you thought for sure the beating in your heart could be heard from the backseat. Swallowing down the involuntary need to stutter or rush your words out in fear of saying something abrasive. But the more he spoke the more you wanted to listen, and the more he encouraged you to speak as well. 

The feeling of normality but in something so extraordinary.

Everything in you is screaming in pain as you finally close in on the clearing. Your feet bleeding from the forest floor, lungs on fire, fatigue wearing on you. Still you hope on everything in this world he is there. Waiting for you.

Bursting through the thick trees, you see his figure standing in the middle of the grassy plane. 

“Hyunjin!” You manage to scream, although it comes out hoarse and the burn bites back. 

He turns to you just in time for you to lunch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. You feel him freeze in shock for a moment then his arms wrap around your torso. He holds you incredibly close.

“Princess” He whispers into your hair, inhaling your scent as he tightens around you. You lean into him but shift to try to take the pain off of your feet, now that you’ve made it your mind and body are catching up with eachother.

He notices instantly, pulling back to look you up and down. You dress had ripped at the hem, must have caught on something as you were running. Because of the rip he can see you bloody feet. He kneels down infront of you, lifting one with a feather light touch to examine it. 

“Are you in much pain?” The concern in his voice and his skin on yours, even how small it is, makes you feel as though you could dance forever. 

“Not now.” You shake your head. He continues to look at the torn skin.”I see what you are…”

He freezes, eyes widening up at you. 

“I know you are not from here, but far away.” You continue. “And that is a scary thought.”

You take a deep breath as his eyes start to swim with panic. 

“But you are still you, no matter where you’re from.” You smile, letting your heart sing fully for the first time. “I don’t need the universe. All I need is you. So wherever you go, I shall go too.”

Instantly the clearing fill with purple light again, it surprises you to look up. The same ship as before hovers over you, the beam in a circular perimeter around you both. You study it in awe, forgetting yourself and the man infront of you. 

Your curiosity is broken when he sweeps you off your feet, like that night, when he broke you out. You release a startled squeak, holding onto him now feels like second nature.

“My princess.” He coos at you, eyes shimmering with the stars in your heart. 

“Yes. Your princess.” You breath as he leans in, soft lips gently brushing against yours. The lights around you becoming too bright to keep your eyes open. His electricity and heat course through you and you know that you’ve left this world behind. 

All those nights wishing on shooting stars didn’t amount to anything, you should have wished on a fallen one. 

masterlist

#skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fantasy au #skz alien au #skz princess au #skz fanfictions #skz angst #skz runaway bride #straykids angst #hyunjin #stray kids #straykids fanfiction #straykids fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #alien hyunjin #princess reader

[catilinas]

what is the situation with spoken latin?

spoken latin is like. the demographic of people who go to the spoken latin group is already an experience. imagine you are the only person in the room whose name doesn’t already work in latin and gendered latin pronouns make you have a crisis every week, and also there are christians (the threatening type), and the christians have brought very large dictionaries, and you are playing the ‘explain this latin word in latin using other words only’ game but the word the christians have chosen is ‘macula’ (stain) (this has religious significance apparently) and it is not a word that you know and they’re like (in latin) why have you not read bede’s ecclesiastical history. we should go on a pilgrimage to visit bede’s grave. and then you do end up becoming good friends with the Other people in the spoken latin group, outside of the group also, but the vibe In the group is consistently Very Strange. and then there’s a whole additional situation where the main guy graduates and the two secondary guys decide to co-run it the next year and so go on a latin speaking retreat in a monastery together and then when you (who did not go to the monastery) get back to uni the next year one of them has decided to do a coup and also starts wearing an ominous academic gown at every meeting (‘mox doctor creandus sum’) and just being generally a dick (worst opinions on war poetry i’ve ever heard, expressed in latin). and the texts are also deeply boring (it is bede’s ecclesiastical history). so you and the people who also do not like the vibe decide to Schism and start your own latin speaking thing and then one week after the schism you encounter The Coup Guy in the latin texts section of the bookshop (you recognise him by his bald spot) and you’re like ah fuck. but he doesn’t see you (phew) but you want to buy a book which involves Speaking Audibly (bad) and then you realise oh this is fine actually because this guy has only ever heard my voice speaking latin. and it is in fact fine! and then two weeks after the schism your group ends up never meeting again because there is a pandemic

#NOT getting into the london latin speaking group which is actually very chill and i did enjoy going #except they meet in a pub and i can’t hear anything and don’t drink #not the best conditions for attempting to explain determinatives like. the hieroglyphs. in latin. #also not getting into random latin conversations that occur at latin summer school because they Were cool and fun and sexy. #beeps

[queer-charming]

Hey! I decided to post some of the unfinished works I have in my drafts, feel free to do whatever you want with it! This was going to be a Chuuya x Reader that I’ll probably never finish, so here y’a go! Go wild!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

Part of you felt guilty, felt like you were being dishonest to your friends, you guessed technically you were, but how were you supposed to explain to the ADA that you regularly met with one of the top executives of the Port Mafia after the two of you had struck up an unlikely friendship? Like what? Were you just supposed to go up to Dazai and say “by the way, remember your former partner? You know, who’s a top member of the most dangerous crime organization in Japan? Yeah I’ve been having lunch with him every other week for the past 6 months without telling you.” You we’re sure that was not going to end well.

However, the fact that you and Chuuya had struck up such an unlikely friendship wasn’t the only secret you were keeping. You were keeping a secret from Chuuya as well, and that was the secret that over the past 6 months, he’d managed to make you fall irrevocably undeniably in love with him. However, being friends with him? Meeting with him every other week at a different restaurant to catch up? That was one thing. Dating him? Sleeping with him behind the ADAs back? That was a completely different thing. That would put real guilt in you. You weren’t sure that was a secret you’d be able to keep.

You let that thought simmer in your mind as you waited yo Chuuya to arrive, because no matter how guilty you felt, no matter how bad you felt about technically lying to your friends, nothing would ever be enough to keep you away from your favorite firey redhead. The restaurant you two had chosen was an expensive one, one that the members of the ADA would be unlikely to visit and one that Chuuya was confident very few members of the Port Mafia frequented. It was large, on the top floor of a 16 story office building. The food was gourmet and the wine was of only the highest of vintage. The wall to your left was made up entirely of windows, floor to ceiling, giving you a beautiful view over Yokohama and a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You were pulled from your thoughts by the voice to your right, turning to see Chuuya, his standard perfectly pressed hat abandoned at the front door alongside his long jacket, giving you an uninterrupted view of his lean figure. You felt the smile naturally find it’s way onto your lips. You remembered the first moment you met Chuuya, months ago. It had been after a particularly prickly meeting with the ADA and the Port Mafia. Kunikida had spent nearly the entire time nearly coming to blows with a few of the members, Akutagawa spent the entire time antagonizing Atsushi and Chuuya and Dazai couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save the world. The only people there seemingly capable of holding an actual conversation had been you, Fukuzawa, Mori and Kouyou, while also somehow managing to prevent a slaughter. It was only after the meeting had ended that you'd managed to share a few words with Chuuya, he may have been an executive with an entirely dangerous and illegal crime rink but he still wanted to meet the ADA's new girl. Of course, you'd been thrown off a bit by the way he'd first addressed you.

"So what kind of brain damage did you suffer to agree to work with Dazai?" He'd asked. For a few seconds you had no idea how to respond, you kind of just stared at him. After a moment your brain finally caught up.

"Thrown from a horse when I was 12." You quipped back, sufficiently pleased with the look of surprise and mild confusion on the mafioso's face.

"Really?" He asked. You let his question hang for a minute before tossing him a grin.

"No." Apparently he'd liked how you responded to him, becuase after that he'd become much more friendly. After that, you'd ran into Chuuya again at a coffee shop you frequented, and of course, being the curious and adventurous person you were, you walked up to him. You were a little surprised when he'd recognized you, although you definitely were not upset by it. What was originally supposed to be a quick 15 minute coffee stop turned into a 3 hour long "Coffee date" you guessed you could call it. That was when you're biweekly meetings with Chuuya started, and the two of you had become pretty close, of course it wasn't the "I'll tell you everything about myself" kind of close, but it was nice.

"Run into some traffic?" You asked as Chuuya took his place across from you, almost immediately ordering his favorite wine.

"There were some subordinate's who needed some..." Chuuya seemed to search for the words. "Straightening out." He finally settled on.

You and Chuuya rarely spoke about work when you met up, getting together was supposed to be a time when both of you could forget where you worked, and the fact that you two were on opposite sides.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader