#but I am absolutely head over heels in love with her now that I've spent the day with just me and her

[thetriumphantpanda]

Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter One)

Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.

Chapter Summary | The origin of a cursed Prince and a girl, unwilling to set aside her dreams for a fate already decided on, thrown together with consequences neither of them could have dreamed about.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU)

Chapter Warnings | Descriptions of magic, discussion of arranged marriages/betrothal, people being mean, an obnoxious male figure, what is essentially a kidnapping, talk of food, no use of Y/N, but I believe that to be it.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors Note | You guys simply have no idea how truly excited I am to finally be able to share this with you. This is so out of my comfort zone but holy HELL I've had the best time creating it, and I really hope that you enjoy reading it just as much. Again, just a massive shout out to @cavillscurls for gifting this idea to me and trusting me to bring this to life for her, I really hope I do it justice for you! And another big thank you to @dinsdjrn for casting an eye over this first chapter to make sure it wasn't absolute clown shoes. I'd really love to know what you guys think, so please leave a comment, reblog or pop over to my ask to spread the love. And as always, if you'd like to leave me a tip, you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

He often thinks back, in the depths of the dark nights he spends alone, to the moment that changed everything. He was, once upon a time, happy. Vain, conceited and a pompous asshole, but he was happy. The kingdom, handed to him quite abruptly on the death of his father. The power and the riches which had been rationed to him before, now all his own to do with as he pleased. A palace, full of beautiful things, beautiful people, there was nothing he could have wanted for. There were parties, opulent and extravagant, filled with beautiful women who would fawn over his every word. Days spent hunting, ignoring all his other princely commitments because he could, he made the rules. 

Then, the night that changed it all. He was drunk, he’d had far too much wine, indulged in the lips of far too many women, when one of his servants gripped his arm, dragging him to the doors of the castle. On his step was a haggard old woman, bent double with the hood of a cloak covering her face. She reached out a hand, old and wrinkled, shaking from the cold of the bitter storm that was raging outside and begged. 

“Please, my lord, take pity on an old woman,” She speaks wearily, as if she’d been walking for days, “Just a night’s shelter from the storm, that’s all I seek.” 

“And what do you offer in return?” He scoffs, already knowing what his answer will be, there is no place for this woman in his home. 

The old woman pulls a singular red rose from one of her sleeves, petals full and a deep crimson and extends it towards the prince. He plucks it from her fingers and takes a moment to admire the flower, for it is, after all, a thing of beauty, although he knows it was plucked from his own garden. 

“You insult me,” He mocks, “Offering my own rose, stolen from my garden,” He lets the flower drop to the floor in front of the beggar woman, “You will not find shelter here, now, be gone.” 

He turns on his heel, intent on making it back to his party, to forget this whole intrusion, when he hears the woman behind him start to chuckle. He turns back and watches as she stands, chuckle turning into some kind of sinister laughter as that exterior that had so repulsed him before melted away to reveal someone, something, far more beautiful. The hood of her cloak falls from her head – beautiful tresses of blonde hair and a young, ethereal face stare back at him. 

“You, my prince, have an ugly soul,” She speaks, voice lilting like a song now, “And it is time that you match that.” 

He is aware that the commotion has drawn his guests from the main hall, out to witness what he is about to become, as he is surrounded by the gold tendrils of air that this woman, no, enchantress, has created. He feels the skin on his face tighten and contort, not painfully, but uncomfortably. He can feel his bones cracking as his frame grows, he’d always been bigger in frame than most, but now he was towering over everyone. His hands, once blemish free, are covered in tiny scars as if he’d spent a life fighting with his fists. His clothes, of silk and velvet, torn and destroyed on his body. 

When he can no longer feel the magic at work around his body, he turns away from the enchantress to the faces of the party, who gasp, talk amongst themselves. Some of them scream and then they’re running, as the woman behind him continues her onslaught on his home now. She drapes it in darkness, the opulent gardens are transformed to nothing but weeds and dead plants. The fountains run no more, and the sound of birdsong is gone. Then, when she is satisfied that her work is done, she bends to the discarded rose and offers it to him once more. 

“Any curse can be broken, and this one is no different,” She taunts, “If you can learn to love another, and earn their love in return, by the time the last petal falls, then the spell will be broken, otherwise, you shall remain this beast forever.”

Then, he is all alone, save for his servants, cursed alongside him, though she’d spared them the humiliation of a face covered in scars, and had just cursed them to spend eternity stuck with their master, now bitter, violent and closed off. None of them, not even him, able to leave the grounds of his castle. He falls into despair, spends his days finding another thing he can take his anger out on. He tears down the paintings – ripping through their canvas, punches his fist through every mirror he can find so he doesn’t have to look at himself and steels himself away in those first years. Then, when the first petal drops from the rose, protected in its glass case by one of his servants, he thinks there should be a sense of urgency, but there isn’t, just a daily reminder that this is what his greed and vanity had done to him. If he cannot leave, and no-one knows he or his palace exist any longer, then what hope does he have of someone finding him, let alone falling in love with him? 

For who could truly learn to love a beast? 

The morning is bright, the sun rising above the hills, as you step out, wicker basket hooked into the crook of your elbow, the book perched in the bottom, covered with a cloth to protect it as you make your way into town. The townsfolk are already milling about as you walk the streets. Women are haggling for bread and eggs, men are greeting each other in booming voices and there are children running around, playing with each other as their parents focus on other things. You don’t miss how, when you pass, they stop their conversations, whispering to each other. You know what they say about you, because no-one in this God forsaken town is ever truly quiet. Funny Girl. Oddity. Strange. Dazed and distracted. Away with the fairies. You’d heard it all, and today, like all days, you let it lie, because none of them are wrong. You are an oddity. A girl of your age, unmarried and living alone with her father, despite his recent efforts to marry you off. A girl, nose stuck firmly in a book whenever it possibly could be. A girl, dreaming of better things, a life outside the provincial village you’d always known, although what that looked like you truly didn’t know. 

You buy a loaf of bread and some cheese with the coins your father had pressed into your palm that morning, ensuring that you had everything you needed at home before indulging yourself. The bookshop, at the very end of town, was your sanctuary. Alexander, a firm friend of your father for years, had owned it since before you were born, his father and grandfather before him. He knew that like most folks around here, the price of the books you wanted to read came second to the price of the books your father needed for his work, so there was an understanding between Alexander and yourself that you borrowed yours, bringing them back to swap for a new novel whenever you needed. 

“Ah, good morning,” He greets when you open the door, bell tinkling as it opens and closes, “And how are we this morning?” 

“Fine, thank you,” You smile, offering him the book you’d chosen just yesterday, “I’ve come to return the book I borrowed.” 

He takes it from your hand, setting it on his counter to reshelve later, “You’re going to run out of things to read if you carry on this quickly,” He teases, motioning with his hand to the shelves behind him, “Nothing new since yesterday, but please, I’m sure you can find something to enjoy.” 

You spend a few moments studying the spines in front of you. There are very few here that you haven’t read, and whilst you could choose something new, there is something in your bones that craves the familiar today. A story you know will warm your heart and make you yearn for what you truly desire. 

“I’ll take this one.” You muse simply, pulling it off the shelf to hand to him. 

“This one?” He fakes shock, “You’ve read it twice already.” 

“Well, it’s my favourite,” You chuckle, “Faraway lands, magic, a handsome prince, strong women who can make their own destiny in life.” 

“Well, if you like it that much, why don’t you keep it?” He hands it over to you, laughing at the shock on your face, “Don’t try and argue with me now,” He insists, “I don’t think anyone other than you has ever chosen it, consider it a gift.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, bending down to the old man to give him a kiss on the cheek, sharing a smile as a blush creeps onto his weathered cheeks, “I shall cherish it.” 

You bid him a fond farewell and head back out onto the streets, book clutched in your arms like it was your most treasured possession. It might actually have been just that. You walk back through the crowds, basket still hooked onto your elbow as you zone in on the fountain at the edge of town. Usually reserved for washing, it’s not so crowded yet, the heat of the day still too frigid to consider dipping hands into water, so you perch on the edge, basket between your feet on the ground and open the book, promising yourself you’ll only spend a few moments familiarizing yourself with the story again. 

Of course, that’s a promise you can’t keep to yourself, and you’re rounding onto chapter three when the book in unceremoniously plucked from your hands. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, “Give that back!” 

“I just want to see what could possibly hold your attention for this long.” 

You groan to yourself. Of course. Henry. The object of all of your ire. The man your father wants you to marry. You couldn’t imagine a worse match – whilst he was objectively handsome, all of the young women fawning over him, falling over each other to impress him, he was so stuck up his own ass he could fold himself inside out if he wanted. 

“They’re called books, perhaps you should try reading one sometime?” You speak, trying to grab your book from his hands as he flips through the pages. 

“And end up like you?” He scoffs, throwing it back to you, “You need to get your head out of those pages and into the real world, you’re not getting any younger and soon, people are going to start wondering what’s wrong with you.” 

“Like they don’t already?” You mutter, dusting off the cover and placing it carefully in the basket on the floor. 

“Have you thought anymore about my proposal?” He asks, draping a thick arm across your shoulders as you try and walk away. 

You groan, because his offer of marriage is all you’ve been able to think about. Or more importantly, how to say no without ruining the hard-fought relationships your father had forged with the most powerful family in town. 

“It’s a big decision,” You say simply as you cross the bridge at the end of town, “I promise I’ll have an answer for you in a few days.” 

You manage to slip away from his grip and close the small gate behind you, turning on your heel to jog as fast as possible into your home, all whilst he’s calling out to you. Regrettably, you’re not fast enough to miss the last thing he says before the front door slams. 

“If you say no to me, no-one will have you!” 

You let your head hit the back of the door, sucking in deep breaths to stop yourself from yanking open the door and telling him that nothing in the world would ever be enough to convince you to marry him. 

“He isn’t wrong.” Your father’s voice startles you, your head turning to the door of his study. 

“I beg you, not another word.” You demand, walking in the opposite direction, towards the kitchen. 

“You’ve made him wait almost a week,” Your father’s heavy footsteps are clear behind you, “Any other woman would have fallen to their knees and agreed to the match.” 

“Well, I’m not any other woman,” You huff, unwrapping the bread and cheese to set on the table, “I don’t want to marry him, papa.” 

“Well, I’m afraid, young lady, you don’t have much choice,” He’s folded his arms across his chest, “I have worked too hard to get you under that family’s nose, and I will not let you throw that hard work away.” 

“Is this all I was ever destined to be?” You exclaim, rounding on him, “Like a prize cow to be bartered and bought on the whim of men?” 

“If your mother could see you now,” He mutters, “She would tell you exactly the same as I would.” 

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” You speak softly, “You married each other because you were in love, she wouldn’t want this for me.” 

He tries to embrace you, like he always does when he knows he’s about to force you to do something you don’t want to do, like it will make it better for you, easier for you to say yes. This time, you push him away, stepping towards the open window.

“I can’t keep you here much longer and you know it,” He sighs behind you, “Money is far too tight and if we aren’t careful, we won’t have a home much longer, you marry Henry, our debts are forgiven, you’ll be safe, warm with a home all of your own.” 

“So now I am to be payment for your debts?” You snorted, “Raised only to be worth something to sell,” Your father tries to open his mouth, no doubt to convince you otherwise, but you truly see him for what he is, “I wish to be alone.” You speak finally, picking up your book and retreating to your room with a pointed slam of the door. 

It is late. The sun set hours ago. You haven’t left your room all day, not even when your father insisted leaving a plate of food outside for you. All you can think in your mind is that you cannot stay here. You will not stay here. You will not be forced into a life you do not want, to marry a man you cannot stand. All you keep thinking, as you watch those stars twinkle in the sky, is what must be beyond the hills of this town. You think of all the people you haven’t met, all the experiences you haven’t had. You won’t trade those dreams for a life as Henry’s housewife. 

As quietly as you can muster, you slip your cloak around your shoulders, tying it across your neck, pulling the hood up over your head. You find your satchel and make sure it has your book inside and the other few possessions you held dear. You slink from your room and into your father’s study, long abandoned by him for his bedroom. You find his inkpot and quill and scrawl a note on the paper he has left strewn across his workstation. 

‘Gone to find my adventure.’ 

You slip quietly from the house and to the small stable where Phillipe, your father’s horse, is slowly chewing on some hay. You run your hand down his nose to soothe him, saddling him up and then leading him away from the house. It isn’t until you’re riding the trail into the forest that you finally feel the sense of freedom you had so craved. As Phillipe leads you further into the thick woods, you don’t once look back on the provincial life you’re abandoning. Eyes forward and onto the life you’d always wanted. 

You ride through the night, following unfamiliar paths through the forest until you come out the other side. It’s still desolate, but now, in the low morning sun, it’s just rolling fields and hills, animals grazing and the sound of birds singing. A little while later, you can feel the tightening in your tummy, the pang of hunger, cursing that you hadn’t thought, in your haste to leave, to shove some of the bread you’d bought into your bag. Phillipe has also slowed in his speed; it won’t be long before he needs to drink some water and eat something either. 

As you round a corner, a valley appears in front of you. The change in weather is stark, where you’re surrounded in bright sunshine and the start of the warmth from the early morning sun, the valley in front of you is clouded in dark grey clouds and you think you can make out the slight rumble of thunder. There is a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to turn back, to take the right at the crossroads from the forest and not the left you’d chosen, but wasn’t this the point of leaving? You take a deep breath and let Phillipe continue the ride down into the valley, wrapping your cloak as far around your body as you can as the temperature drops and the darkness envelops you. 

You ride a little while longer, Phillipe becoming restless with the change in the air, when you stumble upon a great fence, covered in ivy and looking decidedly worse for wear. But this fence, in its wrought-iron glory, is a sign of a home, a grand one judging by the height. You can’t peer into the grounds, the ivy too dense to see through, but you guide Phillipe around its perimeter until you find gates, just a grand as the rest of the iron structure. 

You let yourself down from Phillipe’s back, gripping the reigns so he continues to follow you. You try and pull at the gate, but it’s just your luck that it’s locked shut. You can, however, finally see into the grounds. They’re sweeping, some of the biggest gardens you had ever seen in your life. You can imagine that when they were cared for, they would have been magnificent, but they’re dilapidated, obviously long abandoned. In the distance, you can see a similarly magnificent castle. Incredibly big, with turrets and ivy growing over the brickwork, just like something from one of your books. You can’t see any lights that indicate it’s occupied, and you think that if you tried, you could fit through the gaps between the ironwork. It had to be worth a try, even if it was to seek some shelter whilst the storm that was clearly brewing was passing. 

You take Phillipe’s reigns and tie him to the gate, promising that you’ll come back for him once you’ve deemed the castle a safe place to stay, although you’re pretty certain he’s not fitting through the gap in the ironwork, considering the amount you had to suck your body in to fit through. 

It’s a long trek through the grounds of the castle. Each step of your foot bringing an increasing sense of unease over you. You try and tell yourself that it’s just the storm brewing, that it’s dark and clearly abandoned nature is what’s making you uneasy. When you finally reach the front of the castle, you pick the hem of your dress up and take the steps one at a time. You press a hand to the large wooden door and push, surprised that it opens without much effort. You let out a breath of relief. If someone lived here, surely, they’d keep their doors properly shut. 

That relief is short-lived though. The castle is as much in need of love and attention inside as it is outside. Years of weather have damaged the windows, letting all sorts of foliage make home in this entry way. There is a grand staircase, with carpets that are sodden from rain, and a musky smell that somehow sends a chill up your spine. 

“Hello?” You call out, listening to your voice echo through the large room. 

You listen but nothing calls back to you. All you can really hear is the wind whipping through broken glass. You take a few more tentative steps forward, taking in the surroundings. There are side tables with candelabra sat on top. Trinkets of gold and silver. Grand paintings along the walls that are weathered from the elements, but there are some that catch your eye. 

“Hello?!” You call out once more, louder this time, as you walk towards the wall of paintings. 

Some of them are damaged, like they’ve been intentionally torn. Ripped through the likeness of the man that has been painted on them, but the rest, of women and other older men, remain intact. What had this particular man done to deserve this kind of ire? To have his likeness scratched out like this? 

Your hand comes up to touch one of the damaged paintings – canvas flapping in a breeze from somewhere. The man in the painting is handsome, he looks young and fit and happy, standing with his foot on top of a deer that had been hunted. You wonder if this is the person who used to live here and what had happened to them, and everyone else, that made them leave. 

“What are you doing in my home?” 

The voice startles you enough to scream. You turn around, back pressed to the wall, chest heaving as you try and calm yourself down. Your eyes search through the darkness, trying to find where the voice had come from, but to no avail. 

“I asked you a question.” 

The voice in commanding, low and threatening, and now, pressed up against the wall, trying to make yourself as small and insignificant as possible, you almost wish you hadn’t left home. Fear thrums through your veins as you once again try to find the owner of the voice. 

“I-I’m sorry,” You manage to force out from your throat, “I c-called out, d-didn’t know a-anyone lived h-here.” 

You’re watching the ground when a foot, clad in black leather boots moves into the dim light that is cast through the broken window above you. It’s enough light that you can make out a little of the man’s silhouette. Tall, much taller than you, and broad, as commanding a presence as his voice makes him out to be, and yet he doesn’t move further into the light. 

“Didn’t your parents teach you to knock?” He demands. 

“The d-door,” You motion with your hand, watching as it shakes in front of you, “When I t-touched it, it just opened.” 

“Bad manners will get you into danger, little dove,” He taunts, “You picked the wrong home to trespass on.” 

“I’m sorry!” You exclaim, moving away from the wall and back the way you came, trying to make your escape, “I’ll leave.” 

He is quicker than you are though. His hand envelops your wrist, much larger than your own, and drags you toward him. Your front collides with his own with the strength that he’s used to pull you to him. His frame is a solid as it seems, like hitting a brick wall. 

“Another lesson your parents clearly forgot to teach you,” You look up to the voice but it’s so dark you still can’t make any of his features out, “When you do bad things, you have to be punished.” 

You try and fight your way out of his grip but it’s no use. Whoever this man is in front of you, he clearly has the upper hand in strength and agility. But you aren’t going to go down without a fight. You continue pulling at your wrist, wrapping your free hand around the one that has you in a vice grip, digging your fingernails into his skin as you try and scream for help, but nothing seems to work. 

You’re suddenly picked up and flipped over his shoulder like a sack of flour, which gives you the purchase to wriggle around. You ball your fists and take punches to his solid back, but all that does is create a dull throb in your hands.

“Put me down!” You scream, trying to kick your feet enough for him to lose his grip on your as he takes the stairs two at a time. 

“I would advise you to keep still,” He speaks low and calm, “Unless you want to end up thrown over the railings.” 

From your completely undignified vantage point you can tell he’s right. He’s keeping a grip on you but if you continue to wriggle, all that awaits you is a drop onto that cold concrete floor below. As he takes more steps upwards, all you can do is let the fear take over. Your body shakes as tears fill your eyes, dripping down onto the floor as this mystery brute takes you to God knows where. 

It's colder up here, wherever here is. As he walks up yet more stairs, you make out the clear iron bars of cell doors. And your stomach drops. You wanted adventure and now all you get is a prison cell. You can hear him fiddling with a lock, before a creaking sound meets your ears and you’re unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. You try and crawl as fast as you can, hell bent on an escape, but yet again, your captor is faster than you are, shutting the door to the cell and clicking the lock to trap you. 

“Please let me go!” You beg, hands clinging around the bars, “I didn’t steal anything, please let me go!” 

He’s walking away, back down the spiral stone staircase he had come up. Silent and seemingly uncaring in your plight. You continue to call after him, even once his figure is long gone, hands pulling at the bars in an attempt to free yourself, but all clearly to no avail. You slump onto the damp floor and take some heaving breathes through your mouth, but nothing will calm the fear and dread coursing through you. How could this have gone so wrong? Not even a day’s ride from home and you’re captured, no-one will know where you are. Would anyone even come looking for you? 

You continue to pull at the bars until your bones out, calling into the dark until you’re hoarse. Finally accepting your fate, that you’d been naive enough to walk into the first sign of shelter like it was your right, you curl up into a ball in a corner of the call further from the window and wrap your cloak around you, shivering until you fall into the most fitful sleep you’ve ever experienced. 

tags : @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @patti7dc @drewharrisonwriter

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller au #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #That Last Of us #The last Of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us au #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou fic #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal #TAOAT #tlou au #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction

[gaybitchfx]

REQUEST 4 STOLASSSSS

so stola's bf is like another father to octavia since he has known stolas since they were kids

octavia absolutely knows thay this man is head over heels for her dad since they were little, but he's afraid to say anything bc he knows stolas is in love w blitzo.

"you're being mean, stop it. i have been second to him my whole life in everything and i will not be the one you settle for just because you two are cowards, i won't- i won't do it...not when i've spent my entire life loving you." kind of trope lol.

i kinda want this to have a good ending but my brain cannot think of smth 😭 if u know a way to give it a good ending then please do but if not then just full angs HAHA.

Note: It took me a second to understand that trope since when I read this I woke up like 9 minutes ago 👍🏽 and it’ll most likely end with angst since I haven’t written any in F O R E V E R

Character(s): Stolas

Type of reader: M!Reader

Category: SFW (angsty kind)

Warning(s): None

Edited: ❌

You’ve known Stolas since the two of you were practically in diapers. Well, since you were in diapers since he was 2-3 years older than you.

But growing up, you always looked up to him and saw him as a really cool person, so cool to the point you subconsciously gained feelings for him, but never knew about them till your early teen years.

To you, and only to you, Stolas was perfect in every way imaginable.

That changed after Blitzø came along. He had began to slowly stop talking to you or being around you. But when he was around you it was Blitzø this, Blitzø that.

Every conversation you two would have he would always bring up Blitzø. Of course, you never tried to show whenever he talked to him it stung, deeply. But Octavia had noticed.

Her being observant and knowing you since she was a baby came in handy. She would notice how you would slightly sulk before pretending. She also knows how in love you are for her father.

It’s very obvious, but I think Stolas is too in love with Blitzø to notice. “I know you’re in love with my dad.” Octavia said as she mashed her cereal with her spoon, making you stiffen up with wide eyes.

“Whaaa? I am not.” You said with a small huff making her giggle.

“It’s very obvious you love him, Y/n. I’ve known you for a long time to know this.” She said, a soft smile on her lips.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? I won’t mind having another father figure in my life.” She said before putting some cereal into her mouth. You blinked owlishly before sighing.

“I..I want to..but I’m scared… Scared he’s going to reject me and hate me for liking him because he loves that stupid imp..” You said and held your head in your hands, lightly tugging at your hair.

Octavia frowned deeply. She didn’t know how deep your feelings were for her father so all she could do was rub your back and try to reassure you and to not think that.

“Um, Y/n?” Stolas said making you quickly sit up and turn your head to him. “Yes?” You said, a smile on your lips.

“Can I talk to you?” Stolas asked and Octavia took her cereal and left since she doesn’t want to hear to the conversation you two were going to have. “Um..sure? What’s up?” You questioned him, getting out of your seat and stood in front of him.

Stolas inhaler and exhaled through his nose before making direct eye contact with you. “I love you.” He suddenly said making your eyes wide.

“I know you love me as a friend-” “No..I love you not as a friend, Y/n.” Stolas said as he cupped your cheek in his hand. Your whole body was filled with goosebumps as you took two steps back.

“No… No you don’t.” “But I d-” “No you don’t!!” You shouted making his eyes go wide. “You love Blitzø..not me..” You whispered out.

“You’re being mean, Stolas. Why are you telling me this now all of a sudden, huh? I have been second to him my entire life in every single thing.. You only talked about him and never sought out my own feelings when talking about that imp!-” You said, slightly fumbling your words before taking a breather.

“I-” You held a finger up making him stop what he was going to say.

“I won’t..I won’t be and I don’t want to be the second option, Stolas. Not when I have spent so many years loving you because I looked up to you. I don’t want to live with the guilt of being seconds to someone. I won’t be the one you settle for..just because you can’t have him…” You sniffled, tears started to blur your vision. Being the second option stung. Deeply.

Stolas telling you he loves you out of the blue felt as if someone was squeezing your heart..but not in the good way. “I..I didn’t know you felt that way Y/n… I’m sorry..” Stolas said his eyes softening a tad.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Stolas.. I think it’s best if we leave things here..” You said and wiped away the tears that fell on your cheeks.

“But, Y/n-” You didn’t allow him to say what he wanted to say as you left through the front door and slammed it shut. Stolas sighed as he dragged him back against the wall slightly.

“You really messed up this time.” Octavia said, getting her father’s attention.

“It was so obvious he loved you, but you never acknowledged it..“ Octavia mumbled before going back upstairs to her room leaving Stolas to think back to when you’d make certain romantic gestures, but he never acknowledged them indeed.

#stolas #stolas x male reader #stolas x reader #Stolas x you #Stolas x y/n #fiction #male reader #helluva boss x male reader #helluva boss

[pebbleswritessometimes]

Helloooooo, are you still taking prompts? If so could you do a super fluffy larrisa x reader, where reader serenades Riasa? I've got "i just called to say i love you" stuck in my head. Like super fluffy piece of saying i love you for the first time thru a song. :)

If you're not taking prompts then it's cool and thank you for all the fics you've written so far. You're a queen. :)

I Love You

This is absolutely horrendous writing on my part, but its been a while and I’m only just getting back into the groove of things. Thanks for being patient ✨ my writing will get better :) I’ll always take critique and advice on how to improve.

Warnings:none

Words: 796

Having previously stayed the night, the gentle kiss Larissa placed upon your forehead had let you know that she was headed out for work. With the sound of her heels fading and the front door closing, you sat up. Allowing the soft rays of sun that were reaching out through the curtains dance over you. You had things to get done! Turning on a speaker and playing a few love songs, you began your morning.

“Oh, yeah. Y/N don’t forget the flowers,” you reminded yourself. Tossing a bag over your shoulder, quickly skipping out the door.

“Takeout, dessert, and..what am I forgetting?” biting your cheek in thought. Figuring that it’d pop up later down the line, you continued on into the shoppes. You spent what felt like ages looking at each small bouquet. It was a small detail for the table, sure, but you want it to be perfect. Telling the woman you love that you love her for the first time? That’s an important memory, and the world would be damned if it was anything less than worthy of Larissa.

“Okay, flowers..done. Dessert and dinner..check!” Crossing each item off the list. “Okay! I think that’s everything! Now I can-“ interrupted by the sudden buzzing in your coat pocket.

“Rissa, how are you doing today, Sweetheart?”

You listened to her rant about the trouble a new transfer student was causing and you even made up stories of what you had done all day.

Scrolling through the numerous notifications in your phone, one stood out, “REMINDER: pick up order from the jewelers.”

Nearly dropping the flowers in a rush, you spun around and bolted towards the shoppes again. Larissa would be home soon and you hadn’t set up a single thing yet.

Rushing home as fast as you could, nearly breaking down the door on your way in. Setting the table, placing the flowers in a vase, and pushing the furniture in the living room to the walls. You couldn’t help the constant fiddling of your hands as you looked around the room. Wondering if it was as good of an idea as you thought it was, the nerves began to strike you. The rhythmic knocking on the door bringing you out of your anxious trance.

Meeting Larissa’s eyes the moment you opened the door, you couldn’t help but fall in love with her all over again. “Are you gonna let me in, dear?” Larissa chuckled. “Oh! Oh yeah!! Come in come in,” taking her hand in yours, you took her bag and coat. “Wait here while I put these up,” you told her as you hung up her regal coat. Swiftly pulling the bracelet from your pocket, you wrapped it around her pale wrist. “Welcome home, Sweetheart,” you spoke gently, taking her hand. Her confusion mixed with love was evident. Guiding her to the dining table, you two enjoyed your meals. She was completely in awe over the flowers, and it made the time you spent looking at each petal worth it.

“This was so sweet, baby. What’d I do to deserve you,” offering a small smile in return to her, you began to twirl your fingers again. She noticed how nervous you were and quickly, she was up and started making her way to your side. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“Nothing, everything’s perfect,” grabbing your phone and pressing play on the song you had lined up. Hearing the music begin to play throughout the living room, “what’s that?“ she inquired. Holding out your hand for her to take, you walked her to the living room. Immediately asking why the furniture was pushed out, you responded by yanking her towards you. “What are you doing, silly,”

“Shush, dance with me,” counting in your head. 1, 2, 3, 4. Trying to steady your breathing and the beating of your heart. Forwards, side, back, side, and forwards again. Her arm is wrapped around your torso as you two sway. Cleaning your throat, you do what you’ve been nervous to do all day. Say, “I love you,” and now you’re gonna do it with a song. You’ve been practicing in your head all day.

“Oh gosh, okay here I go,” trying to conceal your nerves. Larissa watching you intently.

“I just called to say, I love you,” spinning her once. “I just called to say, how much I care,” pulling her in closer. “I doooo,” chuckling at your shaky voice. God, she was gorgeous.

You’re chuckle was cut off by another voice, “I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Oh, I just called to say, I love you,” tears welling in her eyes, she took your face in her hands. Pulling you towards her into a kiss that you swore was something that only gods could have inspired.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday weems #larissa x reader #weems #IM SORRY THIS SUCKS #SOME WORDS ARE REPETITIVE IM SORRY #MWAH

[trickstercaptain]

Can you elaborate on the "Disney Princess" Jack? Cuz I honestly feel he is one but I can't articulate in words how or why he is one, but I firmly believe the title fits him xD

       ahhhhh anon i ABSOLUTELY WILL elaborate on my Jack is a disney princess agenda, i adore you so much for asking as it gives me the perfect excuse to wax lyrical about this whole topic for a bit. because admittedly disney princess Jack is a sort of crack type thing, if we're being technical he's nothing like a disney princess — however i feel like there is a genuine argument to be made that he is disney princess coded, at least within his own narrative. you are right, he gives off those vibes. ( and we're not the only ones who think this — tumblr will not let me hyperlink the video but https://www.tiktok.com/@some.emmagination.huh/video/6961180862117367045 — the fact that Jack is so often seen with or around the princesses in the disney parks says a lot i think lmao ).

       it's possibly because he's assuredly not your classic white knight disney prince, he's not "bad" enough in own his narrative to be villain-coded, and his effeminate characteristics ( the famous story about disney execs thinking that JD was playing Jack as gay in the first film and absolutely freaking out about it ) play into that whole idea. I also think it's always fun to take a character like Jack, who belongs in a hyper masculine environment but consistently challenges those stereotypes, and consider him occasionally in terms of the feminine. Jack being a trickster archetype also helps with this; gender expression is inherently very fluid to him. plus potc plays with this too — Elizabeth is made the Pirate King, after all.

       but he does also fit some classic disney princess tropes! defining a disney princess is kinda tricky now because over the past twenty years or so that definition has (quite rightly) diversified from the more traditional princesses of older disney movies, but i wanna highlight some of the fun ways in which Jack fits into that vague category.

       he talks to animals! maybe not uhhhh... in the nice way that princesses generally do lmao, but he has his god-tier rivalry with Jack the monkey, openly admits that he'll have Cotton's parrot on board the Black Pearl in AWE because "at least I'll have someone to talk to," and in TPOF starts telling his new horse Caesar sea stories because he gets bored waiting for Ayisha. as a child, I am sure he also had very animated conversations with Tim the dog, too. he also sings, canonically. Elizabeth teaches him the song from the ride in CotBP and Jack continues to sing or hum that on two more occasions in the trilogy. he descends from almost literal pirate royalty, effectively already making him a princess. Jack might be the black sheep of the family but he comes from a familial line of very rich, very influential pirates within the Brethren Court. and calling him a prince just feels wrong, so princess it is. also if he gets together with Elizabeth post-AWE he "marries" into royalty and becomes the queen of the Brethren Court, true facts.

       another is that he has the most fairytale esque, romantic dynamic in the entire franchise with the Black Pearl. I've said it again and again, but if Jack's ship were a human and Jack still talked about her the way he does, he'd be the most romantic bastard in the fucking movies lmao. in TPOF, it was literally love at first sight, Jack stared at her on the dock when he first saw her ( and she didn't look her best, she was a ship that had been neglected for a while and Jack spent weeks sprucing her up and getting her shipshape ) and completely fell head over heels. he gets an entire paragraph in that novel about what it is to finally know what love is after hearing sailors talk about it for so long. he dies for her, gives up his immortal soul for her.... Jack is motivated by love in the trilogy ( no matter how difficult, or twisted, or toxic that love becomes ), I won't accept any arguments.

       Jack is surrounded by loveable sidekick type characters. potc is a great franchise for this anyway just in general, but Jack's crew fit a lot of those archetypes that you find in many disney princess movies. from the mice in Cinderella, to Scuttle/Sebastian/Flounder in the Little Mermaid, to the furniture/servants in Beauty and the Beast, there's a lot of overlap — and while you can also say that Jack, being a side character, also fits that role, as he becomes subject to main character syndrome in the franchise, he gradually becomes more and more at the centre of it instead of being with them on the sidelines. disney princesses, particularly from the older movies, are also frequently in need of rescue, and rescuing Jack from the Locker is the major plot point of the first hour of AWE. he might mockingly call Elizabeth the damsel to Will, but he is in fact the damsel put in distress in that movie.

       then there are the somewhat more angsty ones. disney is renowned for its absent mothers, particularly within its fairytales, and Jack is no different. I may have my well-developed headcanons about Jack's mother but in terms of the strict canon, we know nothing about her ( beside the shrunken head ) and that is on purpose, considering that the house of mouse would not let anyone, including the author of TPOF, write about Jack's mother or even hint as to her existence. Jack is also subject to the controlling influence of his single parental figure, Teague, in his early life, which is a classic plight disney princesses find themselves in, whether the dynamic is outright abusive like Jack and Teague's is, or less so. Jack — at least earlier in his life, less so in the trilogy itself — is easily manipulated by the "villains." the plot of TPOF hinges on Jack being manipulated and betrayed by Christophe, and then the plot of CotBP hinges on Jack being betrayed by Barbossa during the mutiny on the Black Pearl ten years prior.

       lastly and, a bit of an odd one maybe, but something I want to include, is that Jack is often coveted by others. it's most obvious in Jack's dynamic with Beckett which, whether you read into it sexually or not on Beckett's side, I personally think it's entirely up for interpretation, is very driven by Beckett's desire to possess Jack. he wants to control him and use him in the same way that he uses all material things, and is pushed to very extreme lengths when Jack resists that control and tries to assert his autonomy. I think Jack being such a free spirit, as well as the fact that he's a pretty boy and is unapologetically sexual ( the second not being a disney princess trait lmao ) he invites that kind of attitude from other people. he invites people to try to challenge that aspect of his character and put him in a box, or control him, or break him.

#anonymous. #&. depths few had ever begun to glimpse ( meta tag. ) #&. don’t ever insult captain jack sparrow in front of me ( ooc. ) #this is unhinged. there is no question about it #but also some of my proudest work on this blog lmaooo #this is what my blog is all about #arguing in nine paragraphs why jack is a disney princess :')

[godofdystopia]

Sashannarcy Week Day 1: Date

Hello and welcome, as many of you know i’m a massive Amphibia fan and i also have a terminal case of Sashannarcy brainrot.

I’ve got a few stories that I've written, and i like to think they were good. And yet for the last two months I've had a bad case of Writers block that i couldn’t shake. I didn’t know what to do.

Then @phrogfrommars announced that she was hosting a Sashannarcy week for 2022 and I thought to myself “Hey, I could do that!” So here I am. For the next seven days I'm going to be releasing seven different stories about Sashannarcy that each fit the themes present in the week’s instructions.

Today marks the first day, Date. I truly hope that I did well. Thank you to @thisbelongsto-nohbodys for allowing me to use their Sasha Suit design for this story.

And without further ado, behold the show! Sashannarcy has a date and Wartwood are embarrassing, what else is new?

Words: 3.9k

“I’m no expert on hummus relationships, but I think you need to calm down a little.” Grime told the pacing human girl in front of him.

“Calm!? CALM!?” Sasha screamed at her commander/adoptive father as she paced back and forth in their cramped little room on top of the Sundew Tea Shop. Night had fallen on Wartwood and it would be at least a week till her and the girls went to Newtopia.

Normally, Sasha would be spending the time relaxing, trying to keep her mind off of her and the Toad Army’s plan, but right now even that would be a better thing to fret about than what she was thinking about every second right now.

“Do you know how perfect this needs to be Grimsey? Do you really? Because if I don't woo the hell out of Marcy and Anne on this date then the only kissing I'll be doing with them is kissing them goodbye!” Sasha ranted as she began rapidly cleaning her armor of every imagined speck of dust for the seventh time that night.

Sasha was rightfully nervous, however. Since she was going on a date with the two loves of her life.

After the disaster of a dinner party was over, the girls had taken a chance to just laugh and hang out without the pressure of the upcoming end of their journey hanging over them. Perhaps it had been the adrenaline, or the exhilaration of battle, or trying to keep her mind off of the plan, or perhaps it had been that she had spent the entire night trying not to descend into a big panicky mess over how absolutely beautiful the girls had looked that night, but asking them out had sort of just… slipped out.

At least she had the comfort that Marcy and Anne had also sort of screamed out a confession at the same time as she had. After an awkward silence, they had agreed to go on a date tonight to make up for the dinner party. Some place called Stumpy’s or whatever, Sasha had been too busy trying not to fall into excited squealing at their asking her out.

And now Sasha was going into full panic mode over the fact that she was going on a date with Anne and Marcy.

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, anyway.” Grime said dismissively as he watched Sasha fret about the armor once more. At his lieutenants' poisonous glare, he held up his hands. “I mean, you already fought in glorious combat together and slew some deadly enemies. What more do you need?”

“They’re not toads, Grimsey.” Sasha said simply, speaking slowly to try and keep her anger under check. “Humans don’t ask each other out by killing some enemies and presenting them with trophies.”

“Be easier if you did.” Grime muttered as Sasha turned back to fretting over every last detail possible: Real or imagined. “I mean, take my sister for example! She hunted down a pair of love doves and made them into a fashionable suit for the girl she was head over heels for. Worked for her.” Grime said.

“Once again, Grime. WE ARE NOT TOADS!” Sasha screamed.

Before the two of them could descend into yet another screaming match, the door opened. Felicia Sundew, the red-haired proprietress of the tea shop they were staying at, swept in with a bundle in her arms.

“I would appreciate it if you all could keep it down, but from the sound of it you're going to go on till you’ve headed off.” Felicia said wearily, trying not to lose her patience with paying guests.

Even if said guests had terrorized the town not even a few months ago.

‘Patience Felicia, just have patience.’ She thought to herself.

Sasha had proceeded to ignore Felicia and start furiously cleaning her pauldron, as she’d found some microscopic fleck of dust in one corner, and so it was left to Grime to be the adult.

Again.

“My Lieutenant is just feeling a little, ah, anxious, before her big night.” Grime said to the frog, trying to explain why Sasha looked two steps away from a mental breakdown.

“I can certainly see that.” Felicia said, looking at the Blonde girl. She looked from the simple ponytail, to her armor, to the brief smatter of make-up on her. She looked about as normal as she usually did and yet looked worse from the obvious lack of care given to anything but her armor.

Felicia wondered if she should be diplomatic, remembered the sword fight atop Toad Tower, and decided not too.

“You look terrible.” Felicia said bluntly, causing the blonde to look up sharply and Grime to glare.

“I do no-”

“You’re going on a romantic evening out and you’re wearing the exact same thing as normal. The girls are going to think you believe this to be a casual evening, and any romantic interest will be gone.” Felicia said point by point, causing the girl to wince with each statement.

“I don’t have time! I need to get my armor to look perfect since I quite literally have nothing else to wear! Everything I could have worn went down with the Tower so I need to work on this and if it takes letting makeup and hair care fall to the wayside then-” Sasha rambled on and on, growing more hysterical as the reality that she was going to blow this started to set in again.

“I can help with that, here.” Felicia held out the bundle in her arms to the fretting blonde girl. Who looked at it like it was a two headed Hybeena.

Felicia uncovered the bundle in her arms to reveal a coat made with white and pink feathers and deep velvet leather. The feathers covered the shoulders like pauldrons while the back of the suit jacket trailed down to become more, far longer feathers, going down to just above the ankles. The cuffs of the coat were embroidered with gold while the buttons along it caught the light. The coat came with a crisp white button up and a pair of black slacks, that also were embroidered with gold.

The ensemble was gorgeous.

“This was given to me a long time ago by… someone very dear to me. It should fit you, I think.” Felicia said with a patient smile. “It should knock the pants off those girls, a lot better than the armor you came with.”

“I don’t, I don't know what to say.” Sasha said, at a complete loss for words.

“Just make sure to treat those girls well, okay?” Felicia said simply, the smile on her face taking on a sharp edge. “Anne has done so much for this town, she’s our protector after all. And Marcy is just such a sweetie.”

Felicia's smile suddenly looked a hell of a lot more dangerous as she leaned closer to the blonde human. “You will treat them well, right?”

Sasha gulped, nervous. The frog woman seemed… dangerous. “Of course, uh, ma’am?”

“Well isn't that nice?” Felicia leaned back and looked like the harmless tea shop owner. She held out her hands. “The suit’s yours.”

As Sasha held the suit up to the light and began holding it in front of herself in the mirror, Grime squinted at the feathers of the suit. “What bird did those come from?”

“Oh, love dove’s!” Felicia answered happily. “A very nice girl made it for me, even hunted down the doves herself.” Felicia sighed wistfully, staring off into the distance. “I wonder if Bea took over the tower like she wanted to…”

Sasha had to fight the urge to double over in laughter as she saw Grime’s face twist like he sucked on a lemon in the mirror.

**********

“Hop pop, I am begging you to please stop.” Anne pleaded with her adoptive Grandfather, who proceeded to ignore her.

“Nonsense Anne! This is how my father wooed his husbands, and how I wooed my Cynthia, and how my daughter wooed her husband. It’s tried and tested to work a hundred percent.” Hop pop replied as he laced up the massive flowing dress Anne was trapped in.

“It literally failed when it came to Sprig though.” Anne said before coughing as some makeup got in her mouth.

“Relax Anne, Marcy is cool! She’ll love you no matter what… oh, and Sasha too I guess.” Sprig, her adoptive brother, said as he continued to work his make-up magic on his big sister.

“Way to make me feel better dude.” Anne deadpanned.

“Just think of it as us stacking the deck in your favor if it makes you feel any better.” Hop-Pop said as he reached to put on a three foot tall wig on her head before it was knocked out of his hands by Polly.

“Yeah, no. If they see that wig they’re dumping her.” Polly said.

“Polly!” Sprig, Hop-Pop, and Anne shouted at the same time.

“What? It’s true, that wig is lame and we all know it!” Polly defended herself.

“You wouldn’t be here without that wig!” Hop-Pop yelled.

Anne drowned out the argument as Sprig kept on working his beautifying wizardry. In truth, as uncomfortable as she was with all the fuss over this, she would never really get mad about it. Yes, it was completely embarrassing and the thought of Sasha and Marcy seeing her in all of this made her stomach start to squirm.

But she knew that the Plantars were doing this because she was one of them. And she would never complain about that. Plus, she kind of deserved it for forcing Sprig through the same with him and ivy.

“Aaand done! Sprig cheered happily before putting a hand mirror in front of her. “What do you think?”

Anne was beautiful.

He got the lipstick to compliment the blush on her cheeks perfectly and the eyeshadow somehow made her eyes look shiny. His cosmetic sorcery had gone and done it.

It all made the dress, some old thing many other Plantar women and men had worn throughout the generations, to somehow not look ancient. It was a deep blue, with incredibly long sleeves that trailed all the way down to her feet and had flower designs embroidered across the whole ensemble.

In short, she looked like a fairytale princess.

“It’s… It’s perfect.” Oh god, she was going to cry. They’d spent at least two hours getting her ready and she was going to ruin it all by crying right then and there. It was her finally dressing as a girl for the first time all over again! “It’s, thank you!” She scooped the frogs up in a big hug, forcing the tears down but unable to stop the dopey smile.

“You’re a Plantar Anne, well always help.” Hop-Pop said gently, patting Anne on the back.

“HP stop, I'm gonna cry.” Anne sniffled, her smile still not leaving

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead Anne!” Polly cheered.

“Oh, I should go! I gotta round up the townsfolk.” Hop-Pop said before rushing out the door. Anne just stared, blinking owlishly.

“What was that about?” Anne asked as she turned back to Polly and Sprig, both of whom weren’t meeting her eyes. Incredibly worrying.

“Weeeell, you see…” Sprig began nervously while Polly began chuckling.

**********

“And you’re sure you don’t want a love potion?” Maddie asked as she walked beside her lab-assistant/apprentice/best-friend.

“I’m not sure but it’s too late now.” Marcy said nervously as she fiddled with the frill around her skirt. She’d had Joe Sparrow go and grab her official noble’s dress that she'd worn when she was promoted to Head Ranger. A light violet dress that went from her neck to the floor with a pretty sash around her arms. She especially liked the Bolo.

Though right now she was wishing she could burrow into the earth and disappear.

A date, a real date, with the two girls she’s been head over heels for since she could remember. One where they had asked her out, even though she also asked them out. She had been worrying for years about how they would respond to the fact that she’d been madly in love with them since they met, turns out they responded by feeling the same.

That was still hard to wrap her head around, to be honest.

Anne and Sasha, the champion of the tennis court and the captain of the cheerleaders, the two most beautiful girls Marcy had ever known in her life, liked her. Her. Marcy Wu, nerd extraordinaire. They liked her, they liked her.

‘They won't like us when they learn what we di- nope nope nope, not thinking about that. Gonna shove that to the back of her mind and just ignore it for future Marcy to deal with.

Which unfortunately left her with nothing to think about but every last insecurity and doubt that she could possibly imagine.

“I’m going to be honest, I was gonna just give you a vial of tap water and call it a love potion.” Maddie said bluntly, looking Marcy in the eye as the Taiwanese girl continued to fret over her date. “Have you seen how those two look at you? They’re head over heels for you and everyone can see it.”

“I- i just-”

“Everyone Marcy, literally everyone.” Maddie said, not letting up in her attempts to cheer up her friend. “Polly even hosted a betting pool on how long it would take for any of you to ask each other out.”

“She did WHAT!?” Marcy asked, her face lighting up red as the moon in embarrassment.

“Yep.” Maddie said, popping the P. “That’s how obvious the two of them are about how they feel about you. Literally all of Wartwood could see it. Me and Ivy even won the pool and made a killing.”

Before Marcy could ask… any of the million questions that now flew through her head, they found they arrived at Stumpy’s. The diner was built into a massive fallen log, and usually Marcy would be trying to figure out what kind of tree the log came from or how the wood doesn't rot away around the restaurant, but currently she could do nothing but stand there gaping like a fish because there was Anne.

She looked like a Disney Princess, her hair even sparkled! Marcy felt herself grow tongue-tied over how her make-up was quite literally perfect. Her dress looked like it was straight out of medieval times in the best way. Marcy half expected to find a pair of frogs holding up the long trailing back of her dress like footmen.

“Oh.” Anne said, her face growing hot from how pretty Marcy looked. She looked like some courtly noblewoman, the lightish purple of her dress matching the pearls in her hair wonderfully. Anne stared at her and wanted to just kiss her then and there.

Aaand now Marcy was blushing, because Anne was just staring and blushing and not saying anything. They just stood in awkward gay silence.

Maddie hit the back of Marcy’s leg causing her to stumble forward. “You’re so pretty!” She shouted, her blush growing hotter from the embarrassment.

Anne just giggled happily. “Ah.. thank you, you too?”

“Is…?” Maddie just stared disappointedly at Anne while Marcy began twirling her hair around her finger “Is that seriously a question?”

“No! No it’s-” Anne sighed, steeled herself, and looked Marcy in the eye. “You’re beautiful.”

Marcy starred, her face breaking out into a giddy smile. But before she could respond, a familiar voice rang out.

“Hey girlfriends!”

“Sasha, you’re he- Urk!” Anne turned to the blonde only to choke on her own tongue at the sight of her. Marcy turned to see Sasha as well and her embarrassment went nuclear.

Sasha was in a wonderful black and red suit, with what looked to be love dove feathers about her. The gold embroidery along her arm cuffs and the bottom of her pants legs caught the lamp light wonderfully, while the coat’s arms somehow showed off her muscular arms well. She had her pink heron sword sheathed along her belt and rested a hand on it, and all together she looked like a knight, or a legendary hero here to sweep them both off their feet.

It was working.

“Ready for our date?” She asked, looking and sounding calm despite her deep red cheeks.

“Buh, buh buh buh.” Marcy had descended into incoherent gibberish. Anne meanwhile managed to fight off her growing gay panic long enough to simply ask “Are those love doves?”

“Yep! You girls like?” Sasha asked, giving a little twirl that showed off her heavy metal combat greaves. Even in formal wear, Sasha still likes feeling like she can kick through rock.

“Yes!” Both Marcy and Anne shouted at the same time, which finally got Sasha to drop the cool suave act she had and just giggle like a schoolgirl.

The silence they fell into was more comfortable now. It felt right. They all just… looked at one another and realized ‘this is happening.’ This was a date. A real date. No matter what happened tonight, there friendship would never be the same.

And they were all so head over heels for each other that they were perfectly okay with that.

“Psst. Lieutenant!” A gruff whisper came from the nearby bushes, causing Sasha to go rigid and twirl around to see Grime trying, and failing, to hide himself amongst the shrubbery. “Escort them into the diner and hold open the door.”

“Grimsey, What the Hell!?” Sasha yelled, mortified.

“Take the initiative Anne!” More whisper shouting came from around the corner of the restaurant, and Anne just sighed and facepalmed in annoyance as Hop-pop and a few frogs from around town popped out from said corner.

“What’s, um.” Marcy just looked around confused as she started to spot almost every single member of town hiding themselves around the diner. “What’s going on?”

“They’re here to ‘supervise.’” Anne groaned in annoyance, dragging her hand down to try and placate the growing headache. “They want the date to go perfectly and are willing to meddle to achieve that.”

“The door Sasha, get the door.” Grime whispered to his mortified lieutenant.

“Let’s just, let’s just go in.” Anne gestured at the door.

*********

It was awkward, being the only date in an entire restaurant.

Stumpy was hard at work in the kitchen, prepping everything that the girls could conceivable come up with, while in the corner Mrs. Croaker and Archie the spider played a piano she had brought in for this occasion. Other than those two, the girls were the only people in the entire restaurant.

Even still, they chose a booth against the wall because, well, why wouldn’t they?

Still, it was awkward. They’d known each other since they were kids, they’d told each other secrets that no one else knew, they knew each other better than anyone else in this world or any other. And yet now that they were on an actual romantic date, the silence was deafening.

Sasha drummed her fingers against the wooden table, looking anywhere but at her dates. Any time she looked up, Anne or Marcy would be looking up at her and then they would all blush and look away awkwardly.

Marcy kicked her feet back and forth as she pat her palms against the table, looking across the ceiling, while Anne sat and looked between the two of them nervously.

“So I was-”

“I think that-”

“I’m really-”

All three girls looked up and talked at once. They all blushed and went back to looking anywhere but each other.

The date was saved by the timely arrival of Stumpy, holding three menus in his good hand and all but sprinting over to the table like Herons were biting at his feet.

“Would any of you ladies like anything to drink?”

Sasha squinted at him. “Do you have anything to drink that doesn't have any flies in it?”

“Umm, yes?” Stumpy said nervously while Anne facepalmed and groaned.

“Then that, please.”

As Stumpy ran off, the girls fell back into awkward silence. Silence that was broken by Anne sitting up and loudly asking “How’s the weather!?” At the top of her lungs.

Sasha and Marcy just stared at her, their faces growing red, and Anne sat back and chuckled, drumming her hands against the table. “I’m sorry, I'm just… really nervous right now.”

“Oh my god.” Sasha just slid down in her seat, sighing. “Same.”

“I don’t even know why, but yeah.” Marcy giggled a bit.

Anne laughed from her slumped down position. “Like, I shouldn't be. I’ve been thinking of this moment forever, but I still am.”

“Wait.” Sasha sat back up and looked at her shocked. “You too?”

“Well, yeah… what do you mean, you too?”

“I’ve been planning how our first date would go for years now, if I'm being honest.” Sasha said with a nervous giggle.

“I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about how to ask you out for years now too.” Marcy just looked between the two girls and laughed slightly.

“Holy shit! I thought I was the only one.” Anne said, shocked.

“No, for real, I've been in love with both of you forever now.” Sasha admitted, her chest feeling tight and her stomach squirming, and yet she somehow felt lighter for admitting it.

“Remember when I gave you both those ring pops when we were six? That was me proposing cause I wanted to marry you both and thought that that would work.” Marcy laughed to herself and the other two girls laughed with her.

“Followed you both for half an hour the day we met because I thought you were both pretty and I wanted to figure out how to impress you both.” Sasha said, smiling off into the distance.

“Wait, so that day in the park…” Anne asked, blinking.

“Yep, me trying to impress you with my dumb jock brain.”

Marcy was now smiling widely. “And you defended our honor, oh brave sir knight.”

Sasha made a half bow. “Any time, my fair maidens.”

Anne just laughed. “You are such a dork sometimes Sash.”

“Only for you girls, only for you.”

“Soo…” Marcy started, staring at Anne. “When did you start liking us Anna-banana?”

As Anne launched into her tale, which made the other girls launch into tales of their own over how much they liked each other, the awkwardness and nervousness of before had been long forgotten. The girls didn’t even notice when Stumpy, wearing a gentle smile at how happy the three of them were, dropped off their drink without a word and left to leave them more time to talk.

With plenty of blushes and talks of romance, the evening went on as they just talked to one another. They even forgot about the massive audience that was watching them.

Or rather, had been watching them.

Outside Stumpy’s, a massive and groaning pile of beat up frogs lay strewn about. Atop the pile of pain, Felicia Sundew sat and enjoyed a cup of tea.

After everything, the girls deserved an evening without worry and if she could help deliver that, then it was all worth it.

#ampibia #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sashannarcy #sashannarcy week #sashannarcy week 2022 #maddie flour #felicia sundew #captain grime #hop pop #hopediah plantar #sprig plantar

[justanothermarvelgirl]

❤️🥳✍️👻

Thank you for the ask!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

ohh, that's a really tough one, since I've written so much haha

I think I'm gonna go with: "Ultron had designed him to be nearly invincible, and yet this woman could render him helpless with a touch of her hand, a brush of her lips."

but there are so many others that I also love and am proud of

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

I first found ao3 because I was looking for some more content for a pairing I liked, but I never thought I'd write something myself

then I stumbled upon the Wanda / Vision tag because I thought they had good chemistry in AoU and Civil War, found Spent by @flakeybakey and absolutely fell head over heels in love with those two

I started reading other Scarlet Vision fics, and I liked them, but could never find exactly the fic I wanted to read, until I finally realized I needed to write it, which was how A Wonderful Mistake was born

and now I can't stop lol

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

silence haha, preferably alone in the house

on the couch

I used to only be able to write on my laptop, but I now sometimes write on my phone as well

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

oh god, I can only offer the same answer as in an earlier ask

since my mind is mostly preoccupied by AUs, I can't really think of a wild headcanon I have lol

#answered #argonaughtt

[cloversdreams]

Ashiya Douman

I am obsessed with the design and evil personality of this thot. Literally came home in the GSSR for me the day I chose to download JP and try it out... haven't looked back since lmao. My biggest, poorest little meow meow <3<3

Ozymandias

Love of my FGO life. The entire reason I started playing the game at all. Of course his JP counterpart needed to be grailed like the EN one <3

Arthur Pendragon

My sweetheart!! I absolutely adore him I can't even explain it. The true king. The one that deserves a big tiddy alter. I'll wait.

Karna

Literal Goodest Boy personified. He deserves the world and I would gladly give it to him. I have deep-seated affection for him.

Arjuna Alter

At first I only rolled for him for the gameplay but he really grew on me as I used him and became one of my poor little meow meows. Now he's one of my top used chars on both accounts!! Kiss the top of him head right between the cute lil ears.

Avenger Kama

Wife!! From her design to her gameplay, love everything about her!! Blinked and she was 100!! Worth every item spent!!

Charlemagne

Charlieeeee. I've wanted to summon him in FGO since I played Extella/Link!! He was one of the top five servants I wanted to see in FGO I am soo happy to have him you have no idea.

Ruler Moriarty

It was literal love at first sight. I'm not sure I've ever fallen so hard so fast. I just knew. The moment he came home I grailed him to 100. No regrets.

Summer Anastasia

I looove seeing her so happy and full of life. Kadoc would too!! I'm just smitten with her designs and animations. One of the few servants I actually rotate the appearance of.

Barghest

I didn't expect to like any of the fairy knights too much but Bargest... she's just everything. Huge, devastatingly strong woman. She'd just as soon kick my ass as blush if I gave her a bouquet of flowers like... yeah. Idk man, she just does it for me.

Taisui Xingjun

MY BABY!!! When I tell you I was smitten with his design the very first time I saw him you have no ideaaaa. Ohhh hes the cutest and I love his gameplay as well as older form!! I might plan to grail him to 100 in EN, we shall see. I just want to pinch his cheeks and spoil him :3

Mandricardo

I don't think there's a single person that isn't head over heels for him after that lostbelt. He's just a perfect man. Deserves smooches and hugs and head pats. And grails. Love the summer skin as well.

Okada Izo

This one was kinda random... TBH I was simply possessed by thirst when this outfit dropped. I mean look at him. YEAH. I need to use him more.

Tamamo Cat

Newest addition to the fam. I was bored one day and asked someone who I should grail. They didn't even hesitate with their decision. No thoughts, only Tammy Cat. And so here we are.

#clovers fate #i saw content creators talking about their grails on yt and wanted to do the same thing!! #somehow this was a lot more work than i thought itd be lmaoo #ill make an eng account one after i grail my clowN !!! #long post #lotsa pics #tl;dr: i just think theyre neat

[hunxi-after-hours]

HI IT'S ME QI YE READING ANON having uh. finished said reading literally just now. my thoughts have not yet reorganised themselves but can i just say: a) the poetic symmetry of wu xi being able to receive command of the nanjiang army to save beiyuan at least partly because of the ideas of strategy/the longer game etc that beiyuan taught him, b) shl did princess jing an dirty, c) damn zhou zishu was really just going through it huh poor guy, and yet d) helian yi is going through it even WORSE

HELLO QI YE ANON WELCOME BACK YOU SURE WENT THROUGH THE REST OF THAT BOOK QUICKLY you doing okay there, the last ten chapters really Put You Through It

a) we love to see the character development, and the fact that Wu Xi did actually learn something in all the hours Beiyuan spent rambling absentmindedly at him privately tutoring him. like yes Wu Xi was head-over-heels infatuated with Beiyuan but he can also multitask. an icon. no wonder he's the only one actually Gets Shit Done in both QY and TYK

b) I COMPLETELY did not process that the lady in the first ten minutes of SHL episode one was supposed to be the badass warrior princess of Jing'an, so yeah, they definitely did her dirty, but also she deserves her own standalone spin-off novel so unfortunately that's nothing new

c) Zhou Zishu is so completely not okay at the end of QY and the last we see of him is in full blue-screen-of-death mode over Jiuxiao, which absolutely haunts me because TYK picks up, what, three years after the events of QY? which means that there is this narrative dead space between the end of QY and the beginning of TYK during which Zhou Zishu, numb with grief and choking on it, still manages to 1) stabilize Helian Yi's regime by 2) committing an unknown quantity of war crimes while 3) spending at least a year and a half subjecting himself to a torture of his own devising that 4) makes him functionally incapable of getting a healthy amount of sleep

the man is really not okay

d) HELIAN YI, my problematic love, one of the most fascinating characters with the least amount of screentime because both Zhou Zishu and Jing Beiyuan go to the maximum amount of effort to spend the minimum amount of time with the man in their respective novels, which is simultaneously pretty funny but also... sdlfksjldk sad. while I respect SHL for taking advantage of the immense narrative potential of Zhou Zishu/Prince Jin's history (look, Prince Jin in SHL =/= Helian Yi, I've decided), it also erases the deep, unspoken tragedy of Helian Yi from the original novel(s). I'm not trying to say that Helian Yi is a victim, or unproblematic, or deserves to be redeemed, but there is something so bitterly sad about the fact that, after everything they've all gone through together, Helian Yi is left alone on that dragon throne, bearing the heaviest weight of leadership and responsibility on his shoulders. 朕是孤家寡人哪, Helian Yi says, sighing, at the beginning of TYK when Zhou Zishu begs his leave. at the end of everything, after all the sacrifice and blood and mortgaging of their souls, Helian Yi is left without anyone to keep him company, without anyone to carry the weight of their crimes together

and because I can and will quote this poem about every cdrama character ever, I guess, I am Once Again thinking about these lines from the "Elegy of Fortinbras" by Zbigniew Herbert:

...The rest is not silence but belongs to me

you chose the easier part of an elegant thrust

but what is heroic death compared with eternal watching

with a cold apple in one’s hand on a narrow chair

with a view of the ant-hill and the clock’s dial...

anyway if you need me, I'll be on my Helian Yi agenda, which isn't so much a "justice for Helian Yi" agenda as it's "I can't stop thinking about this bastard (grudgingly affectionate)"

#seventh time lucky

[joshstambourine]

A Seconds Glance

"Hi I have a request for either Josh or Jake 💛 can I get a story where they see a girl, either at school or they can already be famous in this, and is instantly enamored. I don't know if you've seen The Virgin Suicides, but if you have then something similar to when Trip sees Lux for the first time. I'm interested in how those two would go about getting a girl's attention when they have a crush.💕💕💕" - Anonymous

//Hi Doll! I can’t say I have seen that--- but I will try my best to write something that I feel matches the idea you had. 

I’m gonna be repeating this forever--- but again, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this request out for you! I decided to go with Josh being in school for this one.//

Warnings: Cursing, awkward beans

Word Count: 1969

Synopsis: Josh had never really believed in love at first sight... but yet....

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader

The first day of sophomore year. For most this was just the start of another school year; a sudden reminder that a new binder or fun pencil case is exciting for all of 10 minutes when it comes to actual classes and work. But for Josh… this year felt like it was filled with possibilities. It sounds like some sort of stupid thing you'd see on a motivational calendar, but it really truly did.

Josh hadn't imagined for a second that he actually would have a chance in making music his career; and yet, he had spent all summer with his band mates playing for different occasions and pubs. All the while they were working, working hard on writing songs that they could be proud to play for others.

All of that said, Josh was returning to high-school this year with a new found amount of confidence and excitement; it showed in every step Josh took. His one hand held loosely on to the arm of his backpack, walking in time with Jake.

"But what do you think? Would it look good on me?" Jake inquired, fingers lightly playing with the mid-length pieces of hair on his head.

"I mean… I don't know…" Josh lightly starts, glancing at his twin and begins to take a good long look at him.

Jake's eyes widened just a touch, his expression becoming one that said, 'Well…?'

"Uh… honestly I don't really know Jake. I've never seen you with anything else than this." Josh admits, then snickers a little, "Except for that one time when we decided it'd be fun to take those scissors and---"

"No, that's fine, I didn't need to think about that." Jake immediately stopped him, his hand going to take a full dive into his mess of dark brown hair. 

"Cmon, it was really funny though. Ma really lost her shit when she saw your head like that." Josh continued to muse, hands folding into his pockets with the utmost of ease. 

Jake shook his head in a mournful way, "I can say I will never go back to a buzz-cut again… not without a fight."

Josh's smile never faltered, it was his laughter that changed, softening into a bit of a sigh as they reached the double doors at the front of the school. With a swing of the doors they both were making their way down the hallway to their lockers.

"Meet by Mr.Shapiro's class before lunch?" Jake questioned, to which Josh nodded. No matter which school the twins went to the teachers seemed to know that the best course of action was to keep them separated. That said Josh and Jake always had separate homerooms at least, through most of their time in school.

"See ya in a bit." Josh waved, taking a few steps back before turning on his heels and heading to his own locker.

Josh's excitement to be back in class showed on his face more than he probably would have wanted. A few pencils in his hand along with a binder filled with blank paper and tucked away dividers.  

As soon as Josh stepped into the class room his eyes were met with many familiar faces. Some of these people he had been in school with since kindergarten; like Meg, a rather tall blunt faced girl with long kinky black hair. She simply threw a peace sign Josh's way as he stepped through the doors; he eagerly returned it, bringing a small smile to Meg's lips. 

With some brisk steps Josh moved to place himself at the back of the classroom, just behind Meg. He threw his things on his desk without much thought. Despite there being a good number of kids he knew... there seemed to be equally just as many new kids. 

Leaning on his desk Josh moved closer to Meg, "Where the hell did these guys come from?" 

Meg's brow lifted as she leaned back a little, "Know the high-school on the east side?" 

"The one where you can get crack for super cheap?" Josh inquired, 

Meg's head bobbed, "They closed it down, so now we get half the kids that went there." She explains with her head resting on her hand in a bored way. 

"Oh shit really? That's a lot of kids---" Josh was quick to respond, glancing around the room. 

"Oh yeah... way too many in my personal opinion --- not that anyone cares." Meg mutters, beginning to click her mechanical pencil. 

Josh's eyes were still taking in all the new faces as he started to respond, "Wow aren't we positive today." 

Meg sighed, "Eh.... I'm just not excited, Justin and I broke up over the summer and I'll have to see him in history." She began to explain, "Things are just really tense, yknow?" 

She waited a moment for him to give some comforting... but still idiotic response, however none came. It finally got Meg to turn and look at him, as she did she immediately noticed that Josh's eyes had widened just a touch, cheeks dusted a light pink. 

Meg followed the line of his eyes to a beautiful young woman. The expression he wore was more than enough to tell Meg that she should move. 

Josh was so busy just... taking the new girl in that he didn't even notice Meg slip to the free desk to the side of the one she was previously sat in. Josh just couldn't put his finger on it, there was something... something so breathtaking about her. Was it her eyes? Or maybe how her hair fell around her face? He couldn't be sure. What he was absolutely sure of was that he had never had a moment in his life where he could hear music just by looking at someone. 

"Hey... do you know if this desk is free?" A new voice shook Josh. It was her. She was standing at a desk to his left with a bit of an awkward air. 

He was just so shaken. What did she say again? Something about a desk? Josh's lips parted, "Uh--- I uh, what did you--?" 

"No that one isn't open, but the one just in front of my dude Josh is, right Josh?" Meg interrupted, pointing to the desk ahead of him. 

"Oh y-yeah, that one's open! Definitely 100% open! It couldn't be more open even if it tried!" Josh started spouting, he really wasn't even aware that his mouth had moved, and that was clear in the fact that it just kept moving when she had come to sit down. "Do you need any pencils at all?? I have like 20!" He continued, though his hand held one full sized pencil and one shorter than the average person's pinkie... both chewed on. "I mean not on me but--- who needs a pencil right?" 

The girl laughed a little awkwardly, her gaze moving from Josh to Meg and then to the desk. "No, no I'm okay thank you though." She slipped into the chair, keeping her gaze frontwards. 

Meg looks to Josh with a shocked look, 'What was that??' She mouthed, 

Josh responded with an absolutely mortified expression. He would never say he was the smoothest guy on the planet, but he had never been that awkward in his life. 

Meg shook her head before reaching out to tap the girl's shoulder, "I'm Meg!" She introduces, "And that goober is Josh." 

The girl lightly moved to glance over her shoulder at Josh in a shy way. "It's nice to meet you both. I'm (Y/N)." She hummed with a sweet smile. 

"That's a pretty name, isn't it Josh??" Meg quickly said, trying to get him to continue the conversation in a less awkward way.

Josh nodded very enthusiastically, "The prettiest name I've heard in a long time!" He said with a smile, 

(Y/N)'s cheeks began to hold a flush of their own. "Oh! Uh... th-thank you!" She sputtered out. 

'OH FUCK. She's so cute.' Josh thought to himself, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a shaky swallow. 

Little did Josh know that (Y/N) was thinking something very similar. She might not make it as obvious as he was, but being so much closer now... being able to see the warmth in his brown eyes, seeing how his wavy brown hair came to cup his cheeks --- she couldn't help but continue to stare back at him. 

The only thing that could pull them both out of the little trance they had fallen into was the bell. Both of them quickly looked toward it, followed by a man's voice at the front of the class. 

"Alright everyone, take your seats!" 

(Y/N) was reluctant but she turned herself to look toward the front of the class. A little bit nervous, but mustering an ounce of courage she tore a piece of paper from her notebook quietly and began to scribble something down. 

Josh hardly got anything out of that language arts class, he was way too busy trying to figure out what excuse he could make to talk with (Y/N) again. He was just rattling through every little conversation starter he had ever heard in his life... but none of them felt like they would work. 

Before long the bell had rung overhead once more and everyone was shuffling to grab their things and head to all of their next classes. 

Biting his lip, Josh was determined to catch (Y/N) before she could head off to her own next class. Luckily for him she had a similar idea. Both turning to each other as they stepped out of the classroom, it was painfully quiet at first. It seemed as if they were trying to get their thoughts together really. 

Finally they spoke, 

"Hey would you---" "I was wondering if you'd---" 

At once. 

A small awkward laugh left their lips, "Please, go ahead I was going to say something dumb---" Josh quickly said moving to rub the back of his neck. 

(Y/N)'s lips parted as she let out and unsure chuckle, eyes moving downwards for a moment. "I was just going to ask if you would mind if I joined you for lunch? I just am new and don't really have any---" 

"Yes!" Josh quickly said, "Yes absolutely. You didn't even have to ask, you could have just showed up if you wanted to!" He quickly says to her. 

The speed he seemed to talk at entertained (Y/N) a heck of a lot. A smile creeping across her face, "Okay! Thank you!" She responded. 

"Do you know where the cafeteria is? I can show ya if you want??" Josh quickly continued, "I mean I'm sure you could find it on you're own, you seem very smart and capable. Most women are to be honest; I remember reading an article about how men need to---" 

"That would be really great actually." (Y/N) smiled in a gentle way. 'He's even more nervous than I am.' She thought to herself. 

"Oh-oh! Okay cool! Uh, do you know where Mr.Shapiro's class is?" He asks, 

(Y/N) seemed to think for a minute, "113... right? I have him for chemistry this afternoon I think." She mutters. 

Josh swiftly nods his head, "That's the one!! Meet me there okay?" He says. 

(Y/N) nodded back, understanding the little plan they now had. "I'll see you in a little bit then?" She lightly asks. 

"Yeah absolutely." Josh began to grin, suddenly beyond excited. Even as she began to walk off to her class all he could think about was how sure he was now that this year was going to be fantastic. 

That was until a warning bell played overhead, "Oh shit--" Josh jumped in shock, immediately beginning to run to his next class.

//That's all for now lovely! I do actually have an idea on how to continue this one if anyone would like! Pretty please let me know in the comments if that's something you guys would like 💜//

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka #awkward beans #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagines #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fluff

[dragon-kazansky]

Familiar stranger | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @realremyd

Female Reader!

The moment is eyes had landed on you, so many things happened at once. He zoned out Sam and Bucky, he took a step away from you, his heart seemed to clench in his chest, and all he could think was 'it can't be.'

Right there in front of him was the spitting image of his wife. Well, maybe not exactly, but you did hold such a resemblance to her. It was like she was right there with him again.

You were looking at him. The others too, but it was you he found hard to look away from.

"Who are you?" He asks, needing to know if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Y/N."

A sigh of relief escaped him. Was he relieved though?

He was obviously making you uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you, so he turned his head away. Yet, your presence felt loud. He would never be able to look at you without seeing her.

It got worse.

In Madripoor you were required to wear a disguise. You were the last to come out in the clothes he had got for you, and once again he was struck by the sight of his wife.

Often they would both dress up and go out for the evening. The outfit he had chosen, though he wasn't sure if this was intentional or not, really made you resemble her all the more.

He couldn't take it.

Zemo avoided all eye contact with you. He focused his attention on the boys, finding it easier that way. Even when he stated your role in this he wouldn't look directly at you.

You wondered if you had done something to offend him, which kind of hurt. You always did your best to get on with anyone you worked with, but obviously that wasn't happening here.

Perhaps it was best to stay out of his way.

Things took a turn: a bounty was placed on your heads because of the death of Selby, all of Madripoor was coming for you, and Sharon popped out of nowhere to rescue you.

Back at her place, you changed into something less flashy. You wanted to tone down the outfit a bit and wear something a little more you.

Zemo couldn't help thinking that you looked much better this way. Though he still saw his wife's face, you looked more like you. You suited you.

Down in the club it was easy to avoid you. Zemo blended into the crowd... kind of, and you stuck to the other side, enjoying your own time here.

You left before all of them.

When the boys left the club and went back upstairs, they found you sleeping on the sofa. You had kicked off your shoes and, obviously, made yourself comfortable.

He couldn't look away.

Zemo sat down near by and looked at you. This was a good chance to look at you without making you uncomfortable.

"How can you look so much like her, yet be so different too?" He whispered the question.

Not really realising what he was doing, he tucks some hair away from your face. You can't possibly be all that comfortable or warm here. Not wanting to overstep any boundaries by carrying you to your room, he gently lifts your head enough to put a cushion under it. He then grabs his coat and drapes it over you gently.

He leaves you to sleep in peace.

You wake up rather slowly. You had been extremely tired when you got back last night. You had enough fun in the club and excused yourself, passing Bucky on the way out.

You sit up. The coat falls from your shoulders and into your lap.

Zemo's coat.

You blink away any tiredness to examine it, running your fingers across the fur. It was soft.

Why did you have his coat?

It dawned on you that he must have out it there himself. No one else would touch it otherwise.

It smells like him.

You look up when you hear someone approaching. It's the man himself. He stops like a deer in headlights when your eyes meet his. Before he can turn around and leave, yoy call out to him.

"Wait!"

He stays standing, looking at you curiously. It still hurts to look at you, but your voice is so much different, it makes him remember who he is looking at.

"Thank you."

He looks at the way you're holding his coat. The way your have a hand resting over the fur collar, clearly finding the feel of it satisfying.

For some reason that pleased him.

"You're welcome."

You smile. It's not her smile. It's your smile. He likes it.

You stand up and hold his coat carefully, taking the utmost care in handling it. You held it out to him when you stopped a little closer to him.

He takes it. His eyes never leave you. This is the longest he has looked at you at any one moment.

You're still smiling.

"I have to ask," you begin, "have I done something to offend you?"

His lips part ever so slightly as be tilts his head a tiny bit.

"Offend me?"

"Yes. This is the most you've looked at me since we met. You don't really talk to me and you seem to avoid me when possible." You gaze down at the floor.

He can hear the disappointment in your voice. He can see the way your hands fidget in front if you.

It seemed to really bother you that he was avoiding you.

"It's nothing you have done."

You look at him with concern.

"Something I've said?" Not that you've spoken to him much.

"No."

"Then, please, tell me how I can fix whatever this is. I would quite like for us to get along while we work together," you were pretty much pleading with him.

He clutches his coat, but you don't seem to notice.

"You remind me of my wife."

The way your head shoots up to look at him tells him he caught your attention. There was no going back now.

"You look so much like her and I can't take it," he whispers. "It is not your fault at all, but I cannot look at the face of someone I loved and failed greatly."

You're at a loss for words.

"But I know you're not her. The way you speak, the way you dress, the way you look when you're sleeping soundly... that's all you."

You stand there quietly.

"If you'll excuse me." He turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Helmut doesn't speak to you at all at the dock. He ignores you further on the plane to Latvia. You find yourself looking at him a lot more, but he doesn't even glance your way.

When you arrive at the safe-house, you immediately seek out a bedroom and try to stay out of everyone's way.

Sam comes to look for you. He can see something has happened and he's concerned it's a problem.

"Y/N? Open up."

You open the door to him.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Between you and Zemo. You're ignoring each other more than usual. If this is going to be a problem, I think we should at least talk about it."

"I think it's best I tap out now. You still need Zemo, right?" You ask, avoiding his eyes.

"Possibly, but not for much longer. Why? What's happened?"

"I think I'm making it difficult for him. He told me, back in Madripoor, that I look a lot like his wife and I think it's hard for him to look at me. I don't want to be the reason the job fails."

Sam wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side.

"That's not going to happen. If you want to stay here, I'm sure that's fine, but just know we could really use your help."

"I think I'll stay here. You can call me if you need me."

"Alright, we're not going anywhere just yet, so you'll have to deal with Zemo being around a little longer."

"I know."

Sam gave you a slight squeeze and left you in peace. Zemo was waiting downstairs when he returned. The Baron was kind of disappointed to find that Sam was alone.

You were avoiding him too. He supposed he deserved that.

"How is she?"

"Fine. She'll probably stay in her room for a while. She's decided to stay back for now, so we'll be dealing with the Flag Smahsers without her," Sam explained.

Zemo didn't mean for that to happen.

There was another knock at your door. You called for them to enter, expecting it to be Bucky coming to see you, but it wasn't.

"Oh, Zemo."

He closed the door behind him and walked over to you, but still maintained a comfortable distance between you.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Thought it would be better if I didn't tag along any more. They need you more than me right now," you speak softly, playing with the corner of your pillow next to you.

You hear Zemo sigh gently. The mattress sinks down next to you as he sits down.

"They need you too."

You shrug.

"I didn't mean for you drop out of the mission. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. I'm glad you did. I feel better knowing the reason why you can't look at me."

"Who's not looking now?"

You look up. His dark gaze is on you. He had been looking at you from the moment he entered the room.

He smiles.

"Won't it be difficult working with me if I'm there? I'm worried I'll jeopardise the whole thing."

He reaches out and he takes your hand.

"No. I did some thinking on the plane. I've spent too much time living in my past already, I won't let you back out of the plan because of my foolishness. I had no idea it would bother you so much that I was avoiding you." He gives your hand a little squeeze.

"I'm surprised too, you know. It kind of bothered me that you wouldn't even talk to me unless absolutely necessary."

"Apologies. I am a fool."

"No, you're not," you chuckle softly.

The smile he gives you sets the butterflies off in your stomach.

"Who is it you see now?" You ask, whispering.

"You. Just you."

You bite your lip shyly and shuffle a little closer.

"Then, I changed my mind. You'll have to put up with me when we go get the bad guys."

Zemo laughs.

"Poor me."

You rest your head against his shoudler. You don't know what it is about him, but there was something there that made you want to know him. If he would let you, you wanted to get closer to him.

Even if his freedom was short lived.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #zemo x reader #marvel #baron helmut zemo

[heyitsmerose]

Russian Roulette | Mafia!Seonghwa

Pairing: Mafia!Seonghwa x Assassin/Sniper!Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia!

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: A part of the infamous Park gang, your life is never short of crazy. You've never met the man himself, but tonight something is different. He accompanies the rest of the gang to one of your usual Friday night outs. It all goes south however, as you discover the night doesn't turn out as it's supposed to, a dangerous obstacle in your way. You are forced to pick between the lives of your boss, your best friends and young boy in a menacing game of Russian Roulette.

Warnings/Disclaimer: I am aware the Mafia life is nothing like I am portraying it. It is definitely not full of attractive, young, single people and many nasty/dirty things happen behind the scenes. Furthermore this is quite a serious topic as some people lose their lives over this. I will not be portraying the reality of mafia gangs, instead just an idealised version (thus remember, none of this is real). That being said, a little imagination and creativity never hurt anyone did it? Also this is my second SeonghwaxMafia fic oops.

Blood + Wounds

Mafia + Gangs

Guns + Weapons

Underage Drinking + Assault

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Youtube Playlist

1:55  ───|────── 4:45

|◁              II             ▷| *I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Friday. 6 pm. After-work hours. What were you doing? What every other normal friend group would do; go to the nearby bar to relax. Except you weren't normal. You and 14 or so others in the bar at the moment, had a dirty secret. You were a part of a gang, a mafia gang to be exact. In all honesty, unlike the movies or stories that had portrayed them, the public rarely knew about mafia gangs, let alone knew if they existed. You could roam around freely without the need to worry about someone recognizing you. No one would know that such a pretty face hid such a dark secret.

Besides, this was your lifestyle now. You knew the gang was political and focused on some power struggle but you couldn't care less. Frankly, the only reason you joined the gang was that you were broke. You were introduced to it after you stumbled into this exact bar at the age of 16, wanting to become a bartender as you knew it paid well. You tried applying for the job but it turned out you were underage and couldn't work at the bar yet. While you were slapped by reality, however, someone was watching your every move. She was young too, maybe 15 or 16 and she had noticed you the moment you entered the bar/club. Not too many new people came along so she was intrigued. Immediately when she sensed your aura and your personality, she knew you'd fit in well with the gang.

She noticed how confidently you carried yourself and noticed your dark fashion choice. She stared as you made your way to the counter, swaying your hips as you got the attention of the bartender. The way, you leaned against the counter cooly, your lips parted slightly as you waited for a response. As she kept looking at you you looked back, feeling someone glare holes into the back of your skull. You noticed a young girl, hair a burgundy color with full black clothes. She smiled at you softly and you only raised your eyebrows before rolling your eyes and averting eye contact. What a badass personality you had. Perfect.

Despite really wanting a friend in the gang, and wanting to recommend you to the boss, she couldn't. Alas, she was only a young hacker and her position was not too significant. What she didn't expect was for you to come up to the group yourself, and introduce yourself. You got your response from the manager, and it was not one you were too happy with, you scoffed and turned on your heel, looking for a way to better your situation and rotten mood. She picked up her drink and gulped it down after you looked away. She looked back at you and you were gone. Her eyes widened as she sighed. She knew you'd get along but she was never going to see you again. The last thing she expected was to hear a voice from near the central table.

"Listen up people. Is this some sort of badass, thug gig? Are yall hiring? Can I be a part of this?" You announced. She spat out her drink and choked, hearing your words. Not only were you an outsider intruding on their business, but you had also shamed the gang in front of the underboss, one of the people present there.

Being somewhat new herself, She got nervous thinking of the consequences you'd face for messing with the mafia world. She heard a deep chuckle from behind her, somewhere and chills ran down her spine.

"Actually, we do have an opening" One of the taller males whispered in a low voice. At this point, no one could tell if he was being serious or whether he just wanted to chop your head off. She gripped her drink harder and stared at both of you. She noticed it was none other than the boss's right-hand man and most trusted member, the underboss, San. Should anything happen to the boss, the gang would be given to San.

You twirled a piece of your hair in between your fingers as you smiled back. You weren't intimidated. Besides, he looked no more than around 5 years older than you. You stepped closer, staring into his sparkling, yet cold brown eyes. You noticed how his hand gravitated dangerously close to your personal space and you were slightly more alert. Through the corner of your eye, you noticed how his hand was moving closer to your waist but none of you broke eye contact. Before his hand made contact with your waist, you grabbed his wrist. The hand that was twirling the piece of hair swiftly snapped down, grabbing his wrist tightly. His eyes widened and he tried pulling away gently while you kept the firm grip, not breaking eye contact. The others around you gasped but you kept glaring at him while he had an amused smirk on his face.

"What kind of opening?" You gritted out. Sure, you were desperate, but you weren't going to let people throw you around and use you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to assert dominance but he just looked at you and tilted his head. A smile broke out on his face, a genuine one this time. You loosened your grip, letting go of him, still a little cautious as he simply massaged his wrist, still maintaining a smile on his face.

"I think you'll like it more than you think"

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Although you had originally joined because you needed money. You found that this lifestyle had fit you more than you thought. You enjoyed the thrill and you couldn't imagine yourself working anywhere else. It had been around 5 years since you joined and you were now 21. Meanwhile, the burgundy-haired girl, Ashe, became your best friend and you even lived together. The bond you shared was to die for, you loved each other to bits but also were each other's biggest supporters. You maintained your bitchy persona and starting rubbing off on Ashe too. Soon, she also developed a colder more confident aura. You were with her through thick and thin. Your position now was a spy and secondary shooter. Despite shooting not being your main pursuit, out of the gang, you were one of the most skilled in using them. Some even compared you to the boss, but you shrugged them off. San was for sure the best shooter out of the entire gang though.

Surprisingly, San, the underboss, who you found was 22 at the time was now 27. You had developed a close bond. Your relationship consisted of a lot of teasing and inside jokes as well as a lot of protectiveness from San. Although your relation started rough, it slowly transitioned from mean comments to teasing names and now playful banter. You had a sibling relationship and he was like the brother you never had. You both were the best with guns in your entire gang so you bonded quite a lot as you spent a lot of time training and practicing together. Not to mention when you'd both geek out over specific new models that were brought into the weaponry.

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Back to the present, you were at the usual bar. After joining the gang, you quickly realized that this was the go-to spot for after-work hours. It wasn't mandatory to come here, but it was kind of a tradition every Friday to come and just let loose for a bit. Most of the gang was here and it was usually the same people every time. Today though, something was different. The boss had come in. To outsiders it would seem casual, as if a normal friend group was getting wasted, to everyone in the gang though, you knew that was far from the truth.

The boss had never come with you guys, and although it was after working hours, you all couldn't help but be on your best behavior. He had often heard that his gang members would meet up after work on a friendly basis and he wanted to know what this was about. He heard San talking about it during work once and was intrigued ever since. Thus, here you were... here he was... along with the 14 or so others who usually came to the bar.

To be completely honest, coming to the bar was your favorite part of your job, scratch that, your entire week. You looked forward to it all week and when it finally came you let loose. It was a known fact that you and San were the crazy daredevils of the group. You both had absolutely no fear or shame in the things you did. Today though, you both had tried to be on your best behavior. Despite being his right-hand man, San was still a little intimidated by Seonghwa and you often used to playfully gossip about him, so you both made sure to behave today, or at least tried...

Seonghwa stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clear no one was expecting him to come, and to be honest, nobody wanted him to come either. He was leaning against a counter, eyes scanning the crowd carefully while sipping a rather small glass of whiskey. Typical Seonghwa, being cautious and defensive even off the job. You hadn't had too many personal encounters with Seonghwa, you had just seen him around a bunch.

Meanwhile, although you and San had agreed to tone it down a bit, you couldn't help it. Drunk was an understatement. You rushed over to the front as soon as the adrenaline hit you and had roughly shoved some people off the raised platform of the dance floor. You were shouting random lyrics into the crowd and hyping everyone up while pulling a few random strangers onto the stage. After swaying your hips a bunch and screaming song lyrics into strangers' faces, you realized this still wasn't enough. You staggered to the DJ and snatched one of the many mics and went back to the stage.

Acquired with a new toy to distract you, you began to get everyone's attention.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen" You slurred into the mic. By now, most of the gang members had gotten used to your crazy shenanigans and didn't mind. Although many were initially afraid of San, you had defiantly changed him for the better. He finally found someone to match his energy and charisma and he let loose a little, finally free to show his true self. Everyone had gotten used to it at this point, but this was different, the boss was here.

Most of them immediately sobered up hearing your booming voice from the gigantic sound boxes. Ashe was hooking up with some random girl somewhere else, but as soon as she recognized it was you, she immediately began to look for you.

"How's everyone doing tonight? Are we having funn?" By now, you had gotten the attention of everyone in the bar, including Seonghwa. He looked at you with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, he recognized you. You were the little minx that caught his eye the day you joined the gang, you barely spoke to him, but he could sense the confident aura radiating from you.

The mic was roughly snatched from you, by one of the guys, you assumed was the manager, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking towards the dance floor. He wasn't going to stop you, no one was. Since you had gotten everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were on you. You hopped over to the center of the dance floor, hair bouncing as you fully let go. You swayed your hips and ran your fingers through your hair.

You heard a few whistles and hollers around you and a bunch of hands touching your waist. At this point, you were too drunk to even react properly and just continued dancing, enjoying the attention. You hyped everyone up and began jumping to the beat, hair bouncing over your shoulders as you shook your head from side to side at the beat.

By now, you had caught Seonghwa's attention too, he was intrigued by your carefree persona outside work and admired your ability to separate your two lives. Meanwhile, Ashe had rushed to your side, trying to pull you away from everyone. Despite being drunk, her motherly instincts kicked in and she felt the need to protect you.

"Y/n, what are you doing? The boss is watching!" She practically yelled. You just gave her a disapproving look and pulled her into the middle of the circle.

"Asheeee, just let loose for one night, why are you always so uptight?" You slurred to her, caressing her waist. She gulped and looked back at your eyes. You raised your eyebrows and smirked, if only you knew the effect you had on her. As if on cue, the DJ played the worst song possible, a slow, sensual one.

You whispered the lyrics into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her neck. You caressed the back of her neck with your fingers and tugged on the smaller strands of hair in the back. You slowly started moving your waist to the rhythm as she tried steadying you, you were drunk, this was not okay. You pulled your hands away from her neck and caressed her cheeks in both of your hands, inching closer. You kept whispering the lyrics and she felt your warm breath on her lips. She was slowly gaining confidence and eventually grabbed your waist in her hands. You looked down at her hands and smirked. You brought one of the hands caressing her cheek to softly trace her bottom lip. You stared at her lips, inching closer and closer, warm breaths mixing.

All of a sudden you turned around, your back facing her, as she steadied you again. You began moving again, bending forwards purposely to rub against her. You swayed your waist and pushed backward. She knew what you were doing and slowly inched her hands downwards towards your ass. Although you were best friends, there was no doubt that there was some sexual tension between the two of you.

She began tracing patterns on your hips and butt as one hand remained on your waist. She felt around your waist, trailing patterns around your skimpy black dress until she felt a harder material near your chest and stomach. She blushed immediately not meaning to touch you there and placed her hand back on your waist. You chuckled as you ground against her harder, now definitely trying to start something. She lightly moaned as she gripped your hips, trying to pull you back up, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for much longer like this.

"Goodness me, what have I walked upon here?"

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Way to ruin the moment Choi San...

Ashe froze upon hearing his voice. She immediately pulled her hands away from you and stepped back, a dark red blush now coating her features. Meanwhile, you were too drunk to think straight and simply frowned at the lack of contact, you were just about to get laid.

The second the others saw Ashe step away from you, random strangers started touching you again. One of them grabbed your waist, as another gripped your chin. You closed your eyes and continued moving to the beat and San sighed.

"I think that's enough, step aside before I make you" San huffed, a hint of frustration and anger at the end. Everyone obliged immediately upon sensing his dominating aura and you were once again alone. You sighed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around, most of the people around you had moved away. You stumbled slightly and tried stabilizing yourself, only to fail miserably and almost fall over.

San rushed over and held you by your shoulders to steady you.

"Why hello there, handsome man" You sloppily winked at San and he rolled his eyes.

"Y/n what on earth are you doing? You made quite the scene just then..."

"I was having fun... you're such a killjoy, Saniee." You slurred, sticking your pointer finger into his chest. He simply pushed your finger away, trying to be strict with you.

"Yeah, your definition of fun being screaming lyrics into the mic nearly deafening everyone, throwing yourself at random people, grinding on Ashe and almost kissing her, and practically falling on the floor and eating shit" He was frustrated, but he couldn't help but feel protective over you. Despite scolding you, he still had an arm around your waist, looking deeply into your eyes, hand on your back, holding you up so you didn't fall. It was subtle things like this that showed that he deeply cared and under his strictness, he was just a big softie.

"I- I what?" You sighed trying to step away, now that he was recalling the events it started setting in.

"Yeah, how about we sober up, hmm?" He asked and you nodded as he dragged you back to the counter. You looked back one last time, only to see Ashe looking at you with heartbroken eyes. You looked away feeling guilty as tears glimmered in her eyes. To you it was just a bit of fun, to her it meant the world. Even just a few minutes where you seemed interested in her made her feel special. Deep down, you knew she might have liked you, so why did you lead her on and rub yourself against her?

You sighed shakily feeling immensely guilty. San looked down at you, as he noticed tears falling down your eyes.

"Aren't you a mess?" He chuckled and you breathed out shakily

"Shut up san" Your voice broke as you softly spoke. His eyes widened and he sat you down on a barstool.

"Why are you crying, what's wrong?" He asked as he rubbed under your eyes with his thumbs, gripping your jaw with one hand.

"I might have ruined my friendship with Ashe," You said softly and he sighed.

"Why would you think that?" He said, looking into your eyes as you tried averting eye contact.

"Deep down, I had a feeling she liked me, and I made things worse by leading her on. I rubbed myself on her like an idiot and I fucking led her on, gosh I'm such a bad friend!" Your voice cracked as San 'hmmed in understanding.

"Well, why did you do that?" He asked as he gripped your chin making you look back at him.

"I- I... I was drunk, I AM drunk." You clarified, stuttering a bit.

"No you're not," He said matter-of-factly. You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you urged him to continue.

"Y/n, I've known you for more than 5 years now, I've seen you drunk over a million times, I can tell when you're actually drunk... You may have fooled the others, but not me. Here's the real question, why the fuck are you pretending to be drunk?" He asked all of a sudden and you felt vulnerable.

It was crazy how he could read you like an open book. Your eyes widened as you tried looking away, there was no point in continuing the charade at this point. He looked back at you expectantly and sighed, as he saw you getting nervous.

"It's alright, I don't think anyone else noticed either, now please tell me what's wrong?" He said in a soft tone as you sighed.

"I can't tell you San," You said looking back into his eyes.

"Why? We aren't on duty, why are you being so secretive? Especially with me?" He specified the word 'me'. It was true, you usually never kept anything from each other so this was a bit weird.

"I just can't tell you I'm sorry" You sighed, tugging on the roots of your hair, as your hands gripped your scalp. He just sighed in understanding and got up. As he was about to leave, your hand snapped back and you gripped his forearm.

"I'm sorry San, but I can't help it. One more thing, don't you dare tell anyone." Your voice dropped an octave lower and he gulped, he had never seen you so serious before.

"Act as if you know nothing, I'm sorry it has to be this way, but just carry on with whatever you were doing and please stay out of my business just for today." His eyes bore into yours dangerously but you didn't back down. You had never commanded him before, so this must have been serious. He eventually realized it must have been something important and walked away, but not before scoffing at you.

You sighed and looked down, feet dangling over the barstool. That was close. With your cover now blown and known to San, you had to be a little more careful now. You were glad no one else had figured out though, not even your best friend Ashe. Your thoughts went back to Ashe and you felt incredibly guilty. How stupid you were, willing to throw away your friendship of 5 years, your only real friendship just to put on an act and sell your drunk state. Pathetic. You sighed as you looked back to where you were a couple of minutes ago. Although you felt immensely guilty, you couldn't help it, it was a part of your act.

Trying to go back to what you were doing, you eyed a few of the people at the bar. Although you had to act drunk, actually drinking was off-limits for today. You ordered a sparkling lemonade for yourself while looking around. Meanwhile, your eyes caught on Seonghwa. He was leaning against a counter, head leaning back. his eyes were closed and his soft bangs fell over his forehead. He brought his drink up to his lips and took a small sip. As he swallowed you saw how his adam's apple bopped up and you gulped feeling giddy inside. You tried shaking yourself out of it, but when he placed his drink aside and ran his hand through his soft, black hair, you almost lost it. You could barely see the sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he brushed his fingers through his hair.

Luckily for you, you were interrupted by the bartender bringing over your drink, and you looked away embarrassed. You shook your head to get rid of any weird thoughts or feelings as you were sure you were practically drooling. Without looking, you brought the glass to your lips to have a sip. Just as you were about to take a sip though, you caught a whiff of a rather familiar smell. You pulled the glass away from your lips and looked questioningly at the bartender.

He just looked the other way and raised his eyebrows, ushering you to follow his gaze. As you did, you found a well-built, tall, brown-haired man staring back at you. You looked back at your drink and swirled it around a bit. You noticed that it was an alcoholic drink and there were some undissolved white particles at the bottom of the cup. You looked back up at him and he simply winked at you, smirking. Pathetic. He just tried to fucking drug you and thought you'd fall for it.

You smirked realizing your act worked and he actually thought you were drunk. You tried to cover up your discomfort and simply flashed him a lop-sided smile. You turned around, tilting your head back and lifting your hand to your mouth, acting as if you had just downed the drink. You sneakily slid the drink over the counter into some far corner, so no one would notice. You messed up your hair slightly before turning back around to catch his attention to further solidify your act. As soon as you turned back around to look at the guy though, you noticed he was gone. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around, trying to find him.

"Looking for me, honey?" You heard someone sensually whisper into your ear from the side. Chills ran down your spine, but you tried to cover up your discomfort and disgust. You turned to him, looking him in the eyes, making sure to look a little droopy before calling out to him.

"Hi~" You slurred, making sure to breathe out so your warm breath hit his face. His eyes immediately rolled in pleasure, jaw-dropping as he took in your sexy aura. You almost scrunched your face in disgust but clenched your jaw to stop your reflexes. He opened his eyes again and inched closer to your face as he spoke again.

"You're so gorgeous, damn, how have I never noticed you?" He said, his breath hitting your face. Your nose scrunched as you smelled the alcohol in his breath. Luckily he thought you were just reacting to his compliment. More importantly, however, you confirmed he was drunk... Perfect. He would most likely let down his guard so you had a solid chance at executing your plan. He also revealed that he was a regular at the bar, another important piece of information you needed to confirm your suspicions.

You giggled as your hand slowly trailed up his chest. You rested your hand firmly on his chest as you tried to push yourself further into him. He hummed and trailed a hand down to your waist. Although you didn't want his hands all over you, it was inevitably a part of the job, so you tried your best to just power through it and ignore it.

He leaned in closer until his bangs fell over your forehead. He secured his hands around your waist and held you tight. You flinched from the roughness and tried squirming around to loosen, his grip but he didn't budge. Soon a hand trailed to the side of your hip and you knew where this was going. You sighed and looked down at his hand. Normally, you would have instantly pushed him away, but this mission was far more important than how you were feeling at the moment.

He rested his hand near the dip of your waist, right above your hip, testing the waters. Remembering that you needed to act drowsy, you looked back up at him, your eyes fluttering as you smiled one last time, before falling limp in his arms. You heard him grunt as he easily threw you over his shoulder. Although this should have seemed like a major red flag to anyone around you, people weren't paying attention and they probably didn't care either. You internally whined at the situation you were in and slyly looked around, he was walking towards the back of the club, near the backrooms. You wiggled around a bit in his arms and he resorted to pressing a hand against your ass. You moved around slightly, still acting as if you were drugged, trying to get his hand off you, you couldn't directly push it off as he'd know something was up.

"Where are we goingg" You slurred, trying to indicate you were still conscious.

"Don't worry about that, honey" He whispered, smacking your ass. What a pathetic sick fuck he was. You groaned at the impact, bracing yourself for what was to come next.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was simply looking around, observing his surroundings and being cautious as usual, when he noticed a man carrying one of the ladies into the backrooms. He knew she was unconscious, most likely drugged and being taken into the room against her will. It seemed as though the people around them didn't even care. He looked a little more closely and noticed what she was wearing. A bodycon black dress up till her thighs, with studded embellishments on the waistline and straps. It was you. He has seen you around the headquarters, tagging behind San all the time.

"Y/n?" He whispered, beginning to get a little angry, it was one thing to mistreat a woman and force yourself on her, but it was another to mess with a member of his gang. He saw how you were thrown over his shoulder, head hanging upside down, hair cascading down halfway to the floor. He huffed in anger, looking around for backup, ready to stop him, but when he saw the man smack your ass and feel up your dress, he lost it. He smashed his glass of whiskey onto the nearest counter, glass shattering as he did so.

He immediately pushed past the people around him, trying to get to you. His head tilted slightly down, eyes locked on his target, a few meters ahead. He looked psychopathic in all honesty. His bangs covered his forehead and eyes slightly. With his head tilted down, he was able to cover up his deadly eyes and killer expression. He couldn't care less about the people around him at that moment, his only concern was teaching that guy a lesson for messing with his gang.

He pushed past some people, shoving a couple of guys on the way until he was about halfway there. He was ready to just fully commit and barge across another load of people before he was interrupted.

"Uhh Hwa? What are you doing? Why do you look like you're about to kill someone?" He heard someone next to him say. He whipped his head to the side, ready to punch whoever it was that came in his way, before realizing it was San

"Because that's exactly what I was about to do, before you came in my way, now move." San shivered at his tone. Never had Seonghwa ever commanded San in such a way. Sure Seonghwa had been angry a lot in the past, but his frustration this time seemed more emotionally fuelled.

"No, no, no, that isn't a good idea, how about we think about this for a secon-"

"I SAID MOVE! Can't you hear me?" Seonghwa growled as San violently flinched at his loud tone.

"Why what's so urgent, is everything alright?" San inquired, straightening his clothes a bit, and regaining his composure.

"I'm not obligated to tell you that" Seonghwa finally said, before shoving San out of the way and walking towards the direction the man was walking before. What he didn't realize though, was that in the time it took him to talk to San, the man had seemingly disappeared.

"What's wrong?" A voice from beside broke him out of his thoughts.

"Look what you've done, I lost the man now" Seonghwa replied, massaging his temple, trying to calm his frustration.

"What man?"

"Someone threw the girl- Y/n over his shoulder and took her to one of the back rooms" He claimed, gripping the bridge of his nose in annoyance. San's eyes widened and he gasped. He knew you were up to something tonight but was this a part of your plan?

"What?" Was the only thing he could muster. He wanted to ask why, where, and how you even got in that situation, but he was too stunned.

"Not only that, he had the guts to slip his hand under her dress and feel her up, not to mention inappropriately grab her and spank her" He sighed, beginning to look around again. San gasped and immediately began frantically looking.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier" He panicked, looking around, running towards the backrooms trying to find you. He didn't doubt that you could defend yourself, but what if someone did drug you. He knew you knew better than to accept drinks from strangers and were always cautious, but he couldn't help but worry. His breath quickened and he began pacing around frantically.

"Calm down, we'll find her" He felt a pat on his shoulder, reassuring him. He let out a sigh, before nodding and continuing to look around.

"Why does this girl mean so much to you anyway?" Seonghwa dared to question, voice slightly laced with a negative tone. Was he shaming him, threatening him, genuinely curious, or maybe even slightly jealous of the way you were able to bond so easily?

"You don't even know the half of it."

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Meanwhile, the man had dragged you into one of the rooms in the back, locking it before, dropping you on the bed. Your legs dangled off the bed as he slowly approached you. He unfastened his belt and slowly pulled it through the belt loops. Through the corner of your vision, you were able to see exactly what he was doing and you knew where this was going.

He dropped the belt and slowly climbed on the bed, hovering over your legs. Meanwhile, your fists clenched unconsciously, head slowly turning away from him as he approached you. You really didn't want to do this, but you had no other choice. You had to keep him occupied for another hour or so and you had no clue how else to. You couldn't poison him or knock him out as you had no clue what tracking devices he could have had on him. Your jaw tightened and your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, subtly trying to push him away. Feeling some rustling from underneath, he looked down at your hands and noticed you pushing him away.

"Aw, honey there's no need to be scared" He whispered and you internally sighed.

"I never got your name, by the way, I bet a pretty face like this has a pretty name too..." He whispered into your ear from above.

"Y/n" You weakly grumbled.

"Yours?" You dared to question him back.

"Jungwoon, but I doubt you'll remember it tomorrow," He said, caressing your face. You sighed and realized he was right, you had to act as nothing had happened.

You shouldn't be able to even remember that his name was Jungwoo- Wait. His name is Jungwoon. Jungwoon? That wasn't the name you were told earlier when you were informed of the mission. Unless you got the wrong person... Your eyebrows furrowed unintentionally as you tried processing the information.

"Why? surprised honey? I'm second in line to the Kwon empire, brother of the infamous mafia boss, CJ Kwon" He said snickering a little. What an idiot, he just admitted his identity and now you confirmed your suspicions. You got the wrong fucking person.

You scoffed realizing your mistake, and he simply looked at you, confused. You shoved your knee in his groin, as you lifted yourself upright. He flew backward slightly at the impact, feet back on the ground as he tried regaining his composure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? How aren't you out?" He questioned, still bent over, clutching his sensitive area. You just ignored him, standing up and tilting your head to the side, trying to figure out what you were going to do. The whole reason you couldn't knock him out was because of any tracking devices he might have had. Now knowing he was the son of a big Mafia empire, you had to be careful.

"Okay I mean no harm, I don't want to hurt. You're a trash person, but I still don't want to get into any trouble, so if you could excuse me" You raised your hands, trying to get out of the room as soon as possible. He made it quite difficult for you though, as he pulled out a gun from one of his back pockets, aiming it at you.

"Absolutely not! You're a crazy lady and you attacked me, I can't let you go" He aimed the gun right at your chest as you raised your hands above your head. You slowly started walking towards him, but he cut you off.

"Don't come any closer!" He gripped the gun harder, finger on the trigger. You examined his posture and the way he was holding a gun, for some indicator or weak spot. You looked at his fingers and then the gun. Aha!

"You leave me with no choice, I wasn't going to hurt you, but seeing as you're literally pointing a gun at me, I can't help it." You sighed, hands dropping to your waist, as you looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm gonna shoot you first, you crazy bitch." He huffed, readjusting his stance, now aiming the gun at your head.

"You see, the gun you're holding is a Kahr MK9-1, so the ejection port is visible. It isn't pushed back completely, meaning the gun is unloaded. Furthermore, the magazine release is triggered, meaning there aren't any bullets loaded either." You sighed, pressing your temples. His eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, only for a soft click to be heard. He removed the magazine, inspecting it, indeed, he forgot to load his gun.

"You're an idiot, you brought an unloaded gun, what good is that?" You scoffed, now walking towards him. You cracked your knuckles before raising an eyebrow at him. He backed up, a little scared of you now, you seemed to be well versed with guns and Mafias, you must have been a part of a gang. You were smaller than him, but we were aware that you could very well be capable of more.

"No, no, no, I'll let you go" He nervously said before gulping.

"Now what fun is that?" You said, tilting your head and snickering at him. He backed up into a corner of the room as you walked closer towards him.

"How does it feel huh?" You whispered as he looked down at you afraid for what was coming next.

"How does it feel to be backed into a corner? I bet it sucks, right? Well, that's what you've been doing to a bunch of innocent girls at the bar, so take this as a lesson before trying to pull something on anyone else next time." You sneered as he looked down at you blankly. His attitude and facial expressions were getting on your nerves so you decided to teach him a lesson.

You shoved your right arm into his jaw, with a clean uppercut. Shoving him backward as he stumbled, falling back into the wall behind him.

"Do you understand, you sick fuck?" You yelled as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. He nodded his head rapidly as he held his jaw in his hands. You just scoffed and left the room, head mildly aching from the idiot you just had to deal with.

As soon as you left the room, however, you remembered your mission. You panicked realizing you might have fucked up everything. You got the wrong person, meaning the real target was somewhere out there. You started brisk walking until you reached the main area, away from the backrooms. You fixed your hair quickly, trying to look for your target. Knowing what Jungwoon looked like, finding his brother, now shouldn't be too hard. You jogged through the crowd, looking around, scanning the place the best you could.

You looked back at the usual seating spot for your gang and realized it was practically empty. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran over to the seats there, looking for any familiar faces. You reached the area, noticing there were a few cigarette packets, vapes, and half-empty drink glasses, however no people in sight. You inspected the area, trying to look for any clues as to why and where they would have gone.

Sweat started collecting at the back of your neck, realizing this may have been your fault. It was your responsibility to occupy CJ tonight and you failed. What if he got to your gang? What if he had gotten to Seonghwa. You shakily sighed, a hand going up to your face to press your temples. You gulped dryly before thinking of a possible explanation. Your thoughts were cut short though, by a loud booming voice from behind you.

"Hands where I can see them bitch!"

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Meanwhile, Seonghwa and San were going crazy, trying to look for you. San was admittedly panicking more, while Seonghwa was mildly frustrated.

"Where is sheee?" San whined. By now he was starting to get genuinely worried. Of course, he believed you could take care of yourself, but the whole night you seemed extremely shady. You were hiding things from him and were pretending to be drunk. What if you got caught up in some dangerous schemes?

"Calm down, we'll find her, we just have to-" bang! Seonghwa started, only for him to be cut off by a loud bang. Both of them knew better, it was a gunshot. They exchanged knowing glances, before scurrying to their side of the bar. Although your safety was quite important too, it was Seonghwa's duty to make sure the rest of his gang was alright too.

With people screaming and running around, getting to where they wanted was a little harder. San roughly pushed through the crowd, while Seonghwa stayed a little more cautious, one hand clutching the gun in his back pocket.

"Move!" San roared at the passersby. His voice startled the people around, and they made way for them. San ran over to their usual corner, pulling a gun out of his pocket, firmly grasping it with both hands, holding it in front of him, remaining cautious. Meanwhile, Seonghwa, followed behind closely, running a hand through his hair, chains of his belt jingling as he paced around the area. San squinted, his gun still in front of him as he looked for the gang members. As soon as they reached their side of the club they realized what all the commotion was.

"Drop your weapon, let him go!" San yelled as he witnessed one of the members from an opposing gang hold a knife to one of the young spy's neck. He simply snickered, tightening his grip, the knife now cutting through the skin of his neck slightly as blood dripped down his neck. The young boy squirmed, only for the knife to dig deeper into his neck. He grunted, tears pooling in his eyes.

"What a fucking coward, going for the younger ones, eh?" Seonghwa growled, a dangerous yet playful tone to his voice. The growl was heard in his voice as it dropped in pitch and volume, deliberately trying to scare the man.

The man with the knife didn't budge, however, simply chuckling before, running the knife along the neck of the boy, cutting horizontally across his smooth skin. The boy cried, as his hands came up to grip the knife, only for him to feel lightheaded and nearly pass out. The rest of your gang members gasped, some even whimpering at the young boy's situation. The man with the knife looked back at your gang members as they looked helpless. They couldn't do anything, they knew if they did, he would cut the boy's neck cleanly in half. He looked back and deeply chuckled before refocussing his attention on the two men in front of him.

As he looked ahead though, he realized they were nowhere in sight. He looked around only to be greeted by a cold hard piece of metal pressing against the side of his head.

"I said let go" Seonghwa grumbled lowly, his voice deathly commanding and serious. The man gulped, looking at the gun pointed at his head, through the corner of his eyes. Before Seonghwa could fire his shot, however, a strong pungent smell spread across the room, he furrowed his eyebrows as he heard coughs and whimpers.

"Not so fast, Park" He heard someone snicker. He noticed how San, who was standing right in front of him, began to stumble, gripping onto a chair next to him. It must have been poison or some sort of toxic gas. Seonghwa felt the room spinning, his vision getting blurry as he looked around at his gang members coughing and clutching their stomachs.

"Cover your mouths and noses" He tried to warn them, only for it to come out as a bare whisper. He looked around, most of the members now passing out. He saw San, clutching his stomach, before looking up at him. His eyes fluttered as they got droopier. San simply grunted in pain before mumbling a soft 'sorry' and passing out, his head falling straight to the floor. Seonghwa felt helpless, he tried resisting it, but everything in his body burned. His throat burned and his ears rang.

He clutched his ears, a loud ringing noise making its way to his ears, overwhelming his senses. He let out a gasp, feeling breathless as his trachea burned. His eyes soon fluttered shut as he tried gripping onto the last strings of hope, before succumbing to the poison and passing out...

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"Hands where I can see them bitch!" A loud noise made its way to your ears. You slowly raised your hands as you slowly turned around. Behind you was probably your worst nightmare. Most of your gang members had passed out cold, behind the man. Some of them even tied up to chairs. San, Seonghwa, Ashe, and a young boy were tied to chairs, while the rest were still on the ground. You looked up at the man in shock, your eyebrows furrowing as your tried to process the situation. His face resembled Jungwoon's so there was only one logical explanation, this was his brother, CJ, the man you were after all along.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" You dared to question, walking closer to the man. He simply chuckled at you, firing the gun in your direction. It didn't seem as if he tried to kill you, although he aimed for the top of your shoulder, the bullet grazing your acromion. You screamed in pain, crouching down, your hand instantly flying to your shoulder. Albeit a mere flesh wound, it managed to dig quite deep, leaving a deep open would. Blood gushed through the wound as you pressed harder, trying to stop the blood flow.

"Well, it could be if you wanted it to be" He claimed, laughing at your situation. You looked up at him from the floor, shooting daggers with your eyes. He chuckled as one of his members passed him a water bottle. He snickered, before opening it, taking a sip, and clearing his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows, how was he so relaxed, the fate of an entire mafia gang was in his hands.

He chucked half the bottle into Seonghwa's face, and then another quarter into San's. He threw the bottle into some distant corner and yanked at Ashe's hair. Meanwhile, Seonghwa gasped, regaining consciousness, which must have only been a temporary toxin. His hair was wet, water dripping down his bangs, as they fell over his face. He glared daggers at the guy, before trying to get up, only for him to realize he was tied up. He struggled in the ropes, the rough edges, digging into his silky smooth skin.

San had also regained consciousness, gasping as coughed and choked. He blinked realizing the situation he was in. He looked around, noticing Seonghwa, and Ashe, and the other younger boy, as well as the rest of his gang members, and then finally you. His eyes widened as he struggled to try to free himself.

"Y/n?! You're okay?!" He questioned, sighing in relief as he finally found you. His relief was only short-lived, however, as he noticed you clutching your shoulder. He noticed the dark red stains on your hand and neck, a pool of blood on the floor, dripping from your shoulder down to your elbow and onto the floor.

"What did he- What did you- YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER, LET HER GO!?" He yelled, tugging on his ropes. He didn't care about himself at the moment, only what happened to you. You noticed how he started pulling harder, the ropes now digging into his skin as he tried pulling out. His wrists were bruised as the soft skin of his arms cut due to the rough edges of the rope. Blood trickled down his arms as his arms got raw from the pulling and tugging of the rope.

"San-ah, don't resist, I'm fine" Your voice wavered, as you tried regaining composure. Seonghwa's eyes softened as he noticed the sheen of your eyes, tears collecting. He sighed, looking down, unable to look at your current state, you must have been in so much pain, both physically and emotionally.

"I-" You started, only for your voice to break, a strangled sob escaping. Seonghwa's head whipped up as he noticed how you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now falling down your cheeks. You bit down your lip, as your shoulders shook. Your head faced the ground but it was clear you were crying. Whimpers and sniffs echoed as members of the opposing gang simply laughed.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up, but he had to stay calm. Seeing you break down like this in front of everyone, evoked a feeling of fury and seething rage. He simply looked away, unable to take in the sight of you being so vulnerable. You had always been one of the toughest ones in the gang.

"Now, now, no need to cry honey" You heard CJ whisper. He roughly yanked Ashe's hair once more and you winced at the way her neck snapped to the side. She got up with a sharp inhale, and a loud groan as she tried to understand the situation. CJ walked closer to you, his hand gripping your chin, tilting it up towards him. Seonghwa grunted as he tried tugging harder at the ropes.

"Don't touch her, you son of a bitch" Seonghwa finally growled. His eyes glaring daggers at CJ. This was the first time you heard him speak tonight and it was a tone you weren't too pleased to hear. His voice had a slight rasp to it, voice lower than the deepest trench of the ocean. Water dripped down his face and neck, making the side of his face shine in the light. His dampened clothes clung to his body as his eyes glared through his bangs.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't have too much fun. Now, if you could please get up for me, my darling I have an important mission for you" He maniacally giggled. You mustered all the energy you had and pushed yourself onto your feet, one hand still clutching your shoulder. He handed you his gun and your eyebrows furrowed. He stepped back and you instantly took the chance to point the gun at him. Your breath quickened as you tried to calculate his next move, what on earth was he up to.

"ah-ah darling, it's not me you'' be shooting. It's one of them" He pointed behind him to your four other gang members tied up in chairs. Ashe gasped as she let out a strangled sob, San gasping as well, as Seonghwa simply sighed, taking in your expression. You looked blankly back at him as you readjusted the grip on your gun with your wounded arm.

You shifted your gaze behind him, only to notice, four other men, standing behind the chairs, a gun pointing to each of their heads. "Shoot anyone else, and a bullet goes through all their skulls... that wouldn't be a pretty sight, would it?" He claimed, laughing at his own crazy scheme. By now Ashe was crying hysterically and you couldn't help but feel emotional too. You tried looking away, knowing the second you would look into any of their eyes, you'd break down. You roughly wiped at your nose, nodding, agreeing to his terms.

"I love a game of Russian roulette." You sniffed, chuckling sarcastically.

"May I spin the barrel?" You asked innocently and CJ simply chuckled loudly.

"I knew you had it in you!" He laughed, roughly patting your back. You rolled your eyes before inspecting the gun a bit. You opened the barrel, realizing there was only one bullet, he must have known when the first bullet would go off. You internally smiled realizing you had cracked the code.

You locked the barrel in place, before spinning it, the bullet clanking across the cylinder. Your arms shivered slightly as you raised the gun. Bingo! You were never one to be afraid when it came to guns. The shivering was an act. An act to shake the gun a little to hear where the bullet was clanking. You heard the clanking on the bottom of the barrel, realizing the bullet was going to fire on the 5-6 shot. Realizing it had already gone off once when CJ shot you, it was only logical that the bullet was in the 5th chamber.

You smiled before aiming the gun at San first. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were proceeding with this absurd plan. The moment he saw you smile, however, he knew you had everything under control. Besides, he trusted you. You winked at him, before placing your finger over the trigger.

"Just to clarify, If I shoot all of them once, you leave us alone? Whether one of them gets shot or not?" You spoke up, glancing from the corner of your eye.

"That is correct. Now, take your shot lady." You smiled back at him, before pulling the trigger while the gun was aimed at San. He flinched slightly at the noise but quickly covered up as a laugh erupted from him.

"This one got lucky... try the next one" CJ urged you. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the unconscious boy. He looked young, maybe 16 or 17, and his neck was slashed, blood oozing from it at a slow rate. You quickly looked away and pulled the trigger. Despite knowing it wouldn't go off, you still had to act as if you were scared. Ashe yelped from next to the boy at the loud noise and Seonghwa sighed in relief.

"Well, well, well, I guess they both got lucky... How about your best friend now, you both seemed to be getting it on the dance floor no? It would be a shame for this epic love story to end so tragically." Ashe blushed a deep red as San chuckled from the side laughing quietly. You huffed in annoyance before pointing the gun at her. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to speak.

"Y/n, if this gun goes off right now, just know that I forgive you, it's not your fault, no matter what-"

"Shut up Ashe" You yelled. The last thing you needed was a sad emotional goodbye, as you knew the second you saw her cry, you would too.

"No! Listen to me, never for a second think that you're responsible for any of this. I love you a lot, and I'm still mad at what you did back then, but it-" bang! Ashe squealed as the next gunshot went off. CJ's jaw dropped, another one was left unscathed. You winced slightly as she flinched. You didn't mean to be rude, but she was getting a little too sappy and you already felt terrible.

"You've been lucky so far, but it's a 1 in 2 chance now. Chances are, the legendary Mafia boss, Seonghwa Park will die, right here, tonight. Not just that, but to the hands of one of his most loyal members." He chuckled maniacally and you pointed the gun at Seonghwa. He gulped as he noticed your finger on the trigger, awfully close to pulling it. You looked straight into his eyes and could sense the fear in them. He gulped, eyes shifting around the room as his foot bounced impatiently.

You sighed, mouthing a "trust me" subtly, and smiling at him. His eyes widened as he realized you had planned this all along. You knew exactly when the bullet was going to go off. He should have known, besides you were the second-best with guns in the entire gang, of course, you would know. His eyes softened, as the corners of his lips tugged upwards.

You returned the smile and readjusted your stance. Meanwhile, CJ on the side had no clue what was coming. He believed with this next shot, the mafia boss of the Park gang would be dead, already coming up with plans to take over the empire.

You pulled the trigger and Seonghwa didn't even flinch. He simply chuckled deeply, before tilting his head back... that's how much he trusted you at that moment. CJ's jaw dropped. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

"ONE MORE!" CJ yelled at you as you flinched at the sudden loud voice. Seonghwa's eyes furrowed as he heard him. Your eyes widened as you processed the situation.

"I said one more! Take one more shot, or I'll drive a bullet through Park's head. I don't care who you shoot, but one of you is not going to leave alive today, and I will make sure of it." CJ grumbled, another one of his members passing him a gun. He pointed the gun at Seonghwa's head shoving it into his forehead. Seonghwa inhaled sharply before looking back at you, worried. It was obvious to everyone now that whoever you shot was going to die now. The last chamber had the bullet, so it would fire.

"Why do you care so much about someone dying today!" San yelled from the side.

"You took away one of my young hackers. You shot him right in the back. He's paralyzed now! FUCKING BASTARD SAN! I don't take such matters lightly, and for ruining his life, one of you is now going to pay with yours! I don't care who it is, one of you is going to die!" CJ yelled, gripping San's collar. He gulped realizing CJ found out about one of his missing hackers. Truth was, San helped him fake his paralysis to get him out of that vicious gang. He was now working for you, but CJ could never know that, or he'd go after the young boy.

"So it doesn't matter who I shoot?" You clarified, your voice shaking slightly to sell the act. CJ grinned from ear to ear, looking back and nodding smugly. Seonghwa looked at you with concern as he knew you were up to something. His eyes furrowed as you lifted the gun.

"What about this?" You asked, now pointing the gun directly at your chest. San gasped from the side, Ashe yelling at you to stop, while Seonghwa's eyes widened.

"I supposed that is acceptable too. Now get on with it!" He yelled as both the gangs waited for your next move. You took in a deep breath of air before pulling the trigger of the gun. You gasped at the impact, and fell to the ground, clutching your chest.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. Not from the actual shot itself, but the commotion around you. You heard the footsteps of the opposing gang members as they scurried out the club. You heard a bunch of cries and whimpers from presumably San and Ashe.

Your back made contact with the floor with a loud thud, as you winced from the pain. Seonghwa immediately felt a surge of urgency, as he tried breaking free from the ropes. He yanked as hard as he could, cutting through his wrists slightly, as the ropes snapped. His wrists were bloody and his arms were bruised all the way p, but he couldn't care less.

He roughly yanked at San's ropes, loosening them a bit, just enough for San to free himself. His breath quickened and his eyes widened as he approached you. He rushed over, immediately crouching down to your level. He sat down on his knees, desperately trying to hold you up. He shifted next to you and brought your head to rest on his lap. Your eyes fluttered shut, as his big arms cradled your face, holding your cheeks in each hand. His cut wrists, left a trail of blood, on the exterior of your face, your hair clinging to your face from the damp blood and sweat.

"No, no, no, you're strong Y/n, you're going to survive this" He whispered to you, his breath caressing your face as his shallow breaths continued. He must have really freaked out. He began lightly, tapping your face, shaking your head in his hands slightly. He, brushed your hair away from your face as his fingers rested on your temple. You heard him let out a whimper, as you felt a warm droplet fall onto your cheek. Wait... was he crying? It couldn't have been... The legendary Park Seonghwa crying over one of his members dying. What a sight. He shifted slightly, moving one of the hands that were cradling you to press at your chest. His large palm, pressed softly at your chest, rubbing against the bottom of your left breast. That's where you drew the line.

"Uh-uh, hands off me" You claimed, pushing past Seonghwa, trying to get up. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened. You promptly stood up, as he remained seated on the floor, not understanding the situation. You walked over to the younger boy, untying him too, before grabbing a tissue, pushing at the large wound in his neck. You looked around, trying to find someone to help you, and looked at San. His eyes were wide as he was frozen in place.

"Stop staring and come help me, you ass!" You yelled, ushering to come over. He quickly rushed over, before cupping your cheeks.

"I thought you were going to die..." His voice broke, as you scoffed.

"Come on now, I wouldn't leave you that easilyyy" You whined before guiding his hand to the boy's neck.

"Hold it in place, we need to get him medical attention quickly, or he might bleed out." You passed him the tissues, before walking to untie Ashe. As soon as her wrists and arms were untied she pounced on you. She engulfed you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder.

"You dumb bitch" She cried into your shoulder, as you patted her head, cradling her face. She pulled away and you looked down feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry" You whispered out, only for her to scoff, before pulling you into another bone-crushing hug. You winced in pain, as your shoulder was hurting quite a bit. You simply resorted to rubbing her back for now. Your little moment was broken by a small cough heard from the ground. You looked down, only to notice, Seonghwa was still sitting on the floor, eyes wide, as he tried processing what was happening.

"Mr. Park... You're uh, still on the floor..." He looked right into your eyes, his eyes narrowing as he pushed himself up to his feet, walking towards you. He looked down at you as you tilted your head up, making direct eye contact.

"Firstly, I am touched and flattered that you cried for me, who would have thought..." You said, more to yourself, as Seonghwa brought his hands to his face, touching under his eyes. He realized his cheeks were wet with tears, as he roughly rubbed at them, sniffing and scrunching his nose.

"Secondly, that was inappropriate, dude! You can't just go around groping women you know?" You yelled as his eyes widened. You pointed back at your chest, indicating where he had tried pressing before. You knew he was trying to prevent, possible bleeding, but you couldn't help but tease him a little. He refocussed his attention to your chest, staring at the hole in your dress.

"Eyes up here buddy" You caught his attention. He scoffed, before bringing you into a hug. Engulfing your smaller body in his larger build.

"Ow! my shoulder, be careful, Park!" You scowled as he pulled back.

"Y/n what the fuck? You're supposed to be dead" He finally said, before bringing his hands, to your shoulder, to inspect the wound.

"Actually no" You pulled back, pulling the neckline of your dress down. His eyes widened as a blush grew on Seonghwa's cheeks. You flipped the top of your black lace bra outwards showing a navy blue thicker lining underneath.

"Bulletproof lining, I managed to push it up from my stomach to my chest when I uh, broke down" Seonghwa sighed, pressing his temples.

"You weren't crying?" He asked, a hand cupping your cheek as he spoke.

"Well no, it was a distraction, to bend over and push up the lining to my chest. The tears from before as well, they were fake too, sorry San, I had to sell my act..." You mumbled but San still heard. He scoffed as he walked towards you.

"I figured as much" He smiled back at you.

Seonghwa tightened his grip on your jaw as he realized something. You gasped as you tried pulling away.

"You knew what was going to happen? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He said a little louder. You didn't budge, knowing what you did was right.

"Because! If I were to tell you, you would have brought around 20 other bodyguards accompanying us. Besides this wasn't even the original plan... I was supposed to sleep with CJ, distract him for the night so he couldn't carry out his plan. Turns out I got caught up with his brother and had to... deal with him first." Seonghwa loosened his grip on your jaw before sighing, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you, you know? You outsmarted them all and saved our lives. I owe you thanks." He said before stepping back. You felt dampness on the side of your head. Realizing it was blood, you grabbed his forearm, before inspecting his cuts and bruised wrists.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" You scoffed, before, walking over to get him a tissue to wipe the dried blood for now.

"For you, Y/n... I thought you were dying..." He sighed as gripped onto the base of your dress.

"So what? It's a part of the job. I knew what I was signing up for. I very well knew that death was a possible risk. Besides, why care about me so much? I'm rather expendable actually." You said matter-of-factly.

"No, you're not. Never feel like that. You mean a lot to the gang, a lot to me. Even though we don't interact often. I know how much you do for the gang, how much work you put in for everyone." He said, looking at you sincerely. You smiled back at him softly, booping his nose, turning on your heel.

"Let's get cleaned up shall we?"

#seonghwa #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa fanfic #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #seonghwa ff #ateez angst #ateez mafia #Mafia!Seonghwa #Mafia #mafia au #Ateez au #Seonghwa au #Seonghwa angst #fanfic #russian roulette #ateez russian roulette #guns

[itsadamcole]

graduation day

fem!reader x finn balor

Finn is reader’s English professor. He's spent the semester doing everything he can to make sure he doesn't do anything deemed inappropriate to her. Little does he know that reader feels the same way. The day of graduation, reader stops by Finn's office and the two confess how they've been feeling .... "is this what you want?" & "i've never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad before."

word count: 3k+

warnings: smut, a brief student/teacher relationship, sex in a semi-public area (office)

— enjoy this that i wrote at 3 am bc i was bored and couldn’t sleep .... idk what made me even think of this honestly. maybe it’s the thought of finn in a suit, idk .... there also could be a part two to this, i may need to think about it tho —

masterlist || part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You've always found your English professor attractive. He's made the school day bearable. Everyday at 3 pm, you'd walk into that classroom and everything would instantly feel better for that hour long class.

When he would teach, you would look at how his muscles looked in his shirt or how well his pants hugged his butt. He'd notice you looking at him but never thought anything of it because he thought you were just paying attention to the subject of the day.

Finn's always found you quite attractive as well. You've made his school day exciting. Everyday at 3 pm, you'd walk into that classroom and his day would instantly get better for that hour or so of class. After he'd assign his students their work, he'd always sneak glances at you.

You had noticed these glances but never thought anything of them because he occasionally glanced up to make sure everyone was doing their work.

It was graduation day today. Your white gown and cap hang in your car as you pulled up to campus. You hoped that Mr. Balor would be here. He'd told his students on the last day of classes that he'd be in his office from noon until 3 on graduation day to make sure everyone's grades were okay or if anyone needed to talk about how nervous they were to be graduating college.

It was 2:45 when you parked your car in your usual parking spot in the student parking lot. No one was here on campus. It was practically empty. Everyone wouldn't be arriving until five or six for the scheduled seven o'clock graduation ceremony. Only faculty members wandered around campus, packing up the last few things from their offices no doubt.

You got out of your car and checked the time again on your phone. 2:47 pm. The English building was at least a five minute walk from the parking lot. You'd just barely make it.

So you ran. In your white three inch heels you'd decided to wear to graduation. The skirt on your white dress you decided to wear under your gown was flaring out as you ran toward the English building. You pressed your hands down on the skirt so nothing would be revealed to any onlookers. You were terrified that you would pop out of the dress too as the neck dipped very low, revealing a lot of your cleavage. The dress looked a lot like the famous white Marylyn Monroe dress, just a lot shorter and the neck was more lowcut.

Finn was wrapping up in his office as you made your way across the large campus. He finished filing the last papers he had to and he turned off his computer. He leaves his office to run down to the teacher's lounge area to clear out his things from that room.

You check the time again when you arrive to the doors of the English building. 2:52 pm.

You'd been to this building so many times. The classroom you looked forward to coming to everyday was located in this building. His office was located two floors above the classroom.

You take the stairs, running up to the fourth floor.

As you walk down the hallway of the office floor, you check each room's name plate as you walk by, looking for the "Mr. Finn Balor. English Professor" name plate on the door.

One room door was open. You approach it and look at the name plate on the wooden door.

Mr. Finn Balor. English Professor.

You swalllowed, walking into the medium sized room.

Everything was neatly packed away. Everything filed. Computer off. His supplies were neatly placed on his corner desk that took up about 25% of the space in the room. His jacket hung on the back of his desk chair. The backpack full of summer work sat on the black leather love seat that faced the desk on the other side of the room. The door marked the halfway point between the desk and the love seat. Two book selves were placed opposite the wooden door. The medium sized room had a cozy feeling to it.

You had never come to his office before. You were too scared. Scared that something would happen and he would know about your little crush that you've had on him since day one of class in January.

Finn noticed this. How you'd never ask for an appointment or stop by his office for a question. Your grades were excellent and that's why he assumed you never stopped by.

You wait a few minutes in his office to see if he had gone somewhere and will come back. 3 pm approaches and your hopes diminish. He probably left.

You let out a defeated sigh as you make the decision to leave.

As you walk out the door, you physically run into something. Not something. Someone.

"Miss L/N," the all too familiar Irish accent said. "Nice of ya to stop by. I was just thinking about ya."

You finally meet Mr. Balor's too blue eyes and you ask, "You were?"

He nods and walks around you into his office. You swallow nervously as you stand in the doorway and watch as he places a box full of objects on the large desk. "I was hopin' to get to see ya before the ceremony," he says. "I'm glad ya are here."

"Why's that?" you ask curiously, walking into the center of the room.

Mr. Balor looks over at you before he says, "I wanted to congratulate ya on your big day and because ya passed Honors English with flyin' colors. Ya should be very proud of yourself, Miss L/N."

You say, "Thank you, Mr. Balor."

He blinks at you before he says, "Ya graduate today, Y/N. Let's stop with the formalities, shall we? Call me Finn."

"Finn," you echo, trying to get his first name to sound more familiar than foreign. Calling your professor by his first name is not something you had done during the semester.

Finn smiles as you say his name. "So, Y/N," he says, dropping all professionalism. "What brings ya to my office on graduation day? I know it's not to talk about grades."

You shake your head and say, "No, it's not."

He packs a few pictures on his desk away into the box he'd just brought into the room as he asks, "So what do I owe the pleasure?"

Nervously, you say, "I wanted to come talk to you, um, about how I've been feeling for a while."

The packing stops as Finn looks up at you. "Nervous about graduation?" he asks.

You rub the back of your neck and say, "Not really."

"What's going on?" Finn asks, leaning back on his desk. He crosses his arms over his chest and his ankles.

The light grey button-up shirt Finn is wearing is tighter than usual and accentuates his arm muscles when he does this simple movement. It's tucked into his black dress pants. The first few buttons are unbuttoned. He's dressed somewhat casually.

You say, "I graduate today. In about four hours, I will no longer be your student and you will no longer be my teacher."

Finn nods along as you speak. "That's correct," he says.

Before you say anything else, you quickly run your fingers through your Y/H/C color curls. "I thought that now would a good time as any to tell you that over the semester, I've developed some feelings for you and I find you very attractive," you blurt out, trying to speak as slow as you can but it still comes out as a mess.

He's caught off guard by that statement. In that one sentence, he's realized that when he thought you were paying attention to the content on the board, you were looking at him. He's realized that you never came by his office was because of your crush on him. He's realized that you feel the same way that he does about you.

You watch as Finn lets out a sigh of relief and you tilt your head in confusion. "I'm so happy that you said that," Finn says. "Because I've been feeling the same way."

That's when you realize that the glances he's been stealing from you all semester were because he felt the same way. He could never keep his eyes off of you while you concentrated on your work.

A smile forms on your lips as you look at your soon to be former professor.

Finn smiles at you as he walks over, closing the door in case anyone was around.

"It has killed me over the past four months to be your teacher," he says as he approaches you.

You look up at him and ask, "And why is that, Mr. Balor."

He smiles and says, "Because it's prevented me from doing this." He leans down and lightly presses his lips to yours.

You've envisioned kissing Finn a bunch of times, his his soft kiss exceeds all your expectations.

As your lips move against Finn's slowly, you drop your arms. You hadn't realized that you crossed them over your very exposed chest while having that conversation with Finn.

The light kiss continues for a second before Finn pulls away and looks down at you. Even in heels, you're about five inches shorter that Finn's five foot eleven frame.

"Ya look absolutely stunning in that dress, Y/N," Finn says, complimenting you.

Your face turns a light red as you say, "You don't look too bad yourself, Finn. Is that what you're wearing to the ceremony tonight?"

He shakes his head and says, "I had a suit I was going to wear tonight but now, I don't think I'll be wearing it."

"Why won't you be wearing it?" you ask.

Finn says, "Because if ya think I'm going anywhere right now, you're crazy. I won't have time to go get the suit from my place and make it back here on time for the ceremony."

You glance at the time on the clock in the office. It's close to 3:30 now. You look back at Finn and say, "There's still about two hours before everyone starts to arrive for the ceremony. There's plenty of time to kill."

His eyes scan you as he says, "I plan on killing every second."

In one movement, his lips are back on yours. This time, they move more harshly and passionately than they did the first time. Your hands fly to cup Finn's face.

Finn's hands go to your thighs and he lifts you up, walking you over to his desk and setting you down gently on it. His tongue makes its way into your mouth as the kiss intensifies.

You find your fingers on the buttons of Finn's button-up after you pull the shirt up to untuck it from the waistband of his pants. Your fingers work to undo each button quickly but carefully.

He shrugs off the shirt and your hands run up and down his toned chest and abs. Finn's fingers are under the skirt of your dress as you kick off your heels. The digits slowly slide up your thighs, closer to your throbbing core. You are aching for him, just like you have all semester. Except now, you'll get the satisfaction of his fingers instead of yours.

The thought of Finn's fingers inside of you is enough to make you wet. Well, wetter than you already are. The white colored panties you're wearing are probably ruined at this point.

Finn's free hand works at sliding the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. The fabric falls, exposing your breasts to Finn.

He pulls back from the kiss to look at your exposed chest. "So beautiful," he mutters under his breath. "All mine."

Finn pushes you back on his desk and stands between your legs as he starts to kiss and suck on each breast. You let out soft sighs as your core starts to pulsate again.

You need Finn to touch you before you explode.

"Finn," you gasp.

He looks up at you with his eyes and he asks, "Something wrong, my love?"

You swallow and say, "I need you to touch me. Down there. Please"

Finn crouches down in front of his desk between your legs. "Of course," he says, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties. "Already so wet for me."

"Only for you," you sigh as Finn runs a finger over your clothed core.

He takes the waistband of your pantie in his fingers and pulls them down slowly, almost teasingly. He sees just how wet you are. Your folds are soaked with arousal.

Finn kisses your thighs and says, "I've always wondered what you've tasted like."

You throw your legs over Finn's shoulder and say, "I want your tongue. Please." Desperation is laced in your voice.

He smirks and runs his tongue slowly through your folds. You gasp and smile. He sucks on your clit for a second before swirling his tongue around it. You feel him push a finger inside of you, making you moan softly. Finn moves the digit slowly, teasing you.

You reach down and run your fingers through Finn's short hair as his finger speeds up. He soon adds a second finger. He stands back up, hovering over you as he fingers you. You're a moaning mess beneath Finn's touch.

Finn kisses your neck gently as he moves his fingers a little faster. Your body jerks under his touch occasionally as you're pulled closer and closer to your pending orgasm.

"Ya taste so good," Finn says against your neck. "And ya take my fingers so well."

Your fingers run up and down his back lightly as he speeds up his fingers, adding a third one. You gasp and moan as his fingers move inside of you.

Right as you're about to reach your orgasm, Finn pulls his fingers out and you whine. He sucks on the three digits he had inside of you before he says, "Get on your knees for me, my love."

You nod and get off the desk. You get on your knees in front of Finn. You reach up and start to undo the button on his pants. You pull down the article of clothing and run your finger over Finn's hard member. You free him from his boxers. You're shocked by the size of Finn's member. You knew he was packing but not this much.

You take Finn in your hand and pump him a few times before you take him in your mouth. You start slow and shallow before eventually taking most of him in your mouth. You move your head, sucking occasionally. Finn starts to thrust into your mouth as saliva drips down your chin.

Finn groans softly as you suck him off, but it's not long before he stands you up and his lips are on yours. You push the dress off your body, stepping out of it.

He turns you around so your butt is pressed against his erect member. He gropes your breasts and kisses your neck. You gasp and moan as his member runs through your folds.

You're bent over the desk and Finn spreads your legs apart. "Is this what ya  want?" he asks.

"I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad before," you admit.

That's all Finn needs to hear before he pushes himself into you. You grasp onto the desk as he pulls out, only to thrust hard into you again, making you moan.

Finn's trusts are hard and deep from the beginning. He's waited a while for this moment, and so have you. He's not going to be gentle with you.

You pull your left leg up onto the desk and hold it, giving Finn more access. He thrusts harder and harder, making you moan loudly.

When Finn finds your g-spot, you let him know immediately. "Oh, Finn," you gasp. "Right there." He starts slamming into the spot over and over again, making you moan louder and louder.

After a few moments of this, Finn stands you up and turns you around, laying you on your back across the desk. He thrusts harder into this time and his lips are on your neck. You gasp and moan as he moves.

One of Finn's fingers rubs your clit as he thrusts hard into you.

You lift Finn's head up and kiss him roughly. Your tongues battle for dominance and his hand rests around your throat.

A thin layer of sweat has formed on both your bodies as he continues moving.

Your walls begin to clench around Finn and he pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "Come with me, princess," he says, out of breath.

"Tell me when," you gasp.

After a few more seconds of movement, Finn says, "Now."

The two of you come together. You let out soft moans and whines as Finn helps you ride out your climax. He collapses on top of you. The two of you sloppily kiss for a few seconds before detaching from each other.

Both you and Finn get dressed but the kissing and touching doesn't stop. You make your way to the love seat, where you lay and makeout with Finn until six.

He walks out of the building with you and walks you to your car. Other seniors have begun arriving by this time.

Finn says, "Come by my house around nine tonight. I'll show ya a real celebration then."

You stand in front of Finn and look up at him. "What will this mean for us?" you ask. "Will we get to see each other after I graduate?"

He says, "Let's cross that path once that graduation cap is in the air and you've officially graduated."

You giggle and nod. "I'll come by at nine," you say. "Tell me the address and I'll be there."

Finn tells you his address then says, "See ya when ya walk across the stage."

"I can't wait."

#finn balor imagine #finn balor smut #finn balor x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe smut #imagines #imagine #smut #nswf imagine

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

I've had a really hard day today and I saw someone wanted more Jimary crack, so I decided to write it to cheer myself up. I hope three fics in a row isn't too excessive. (All credit goes to the anon who suggested this.)

--

‘She’s drunk.’ Joe said very matter-of-factly, lifting his wine glass to his lips, only to discover there was nothing left in it.

‘Very drunk.’ Replied Phoebe, reaching for the bottle nearby and giving them both a refill.

It wasn’t as though they had never seen Mary drunk before. She was usually all giggly and bouncy after a few drinks, perhaps more talkative than usual and, in Joe’s opinion, far less uptight. But they had never seen her like this; her eyes heavy lidded, downing her wine like it was water and clumsily swaying to the music that filled the busy lounge, stumbling every now and again to keep her balance. She was clearly taking her break up with Piers very badly.

‘Freddie’s livid.’ Joe murmured, glancing over at the singer who appeared to be deep in conversation with Peter Straker, but kept glancing over at the intoxicated woman who was trying to coax Brian into dancing with her, much to the displeasure of Anita. ‘Prepare yourself for a screaming match later on.’

‘I already have the popcorn ready.’

Mary eventually gave up on Brian and loudly announced she was heading into the kitchen for another bottle of rosé, almost stepping on Delilah as she staggered through the door. She surveyed the kitchen a moment, the room spinning as her alcohol consumption finally caught up with her, before she noticed Jim sitting alone at the kitchen table, trying unsuccessfully to uncork a large bottle of champagne between his knees.

She had always been a little jealous of Jim. Before he came along, she had always held out hope that Freddie might return to her one day, discover he wasn’t actually into men or something daft like that. But then this Irishman appeared, who wasn’t like Freddie’s other boyfriends; for the first time, it seemed like Freddie was in love and ready to settle down, happy in a way she had never seen him before. It had been hard for her to accept; but when Piers had finally had enough of her obsession and left her, she realised that she would never be able to properly move on with her life if she kept latching on to the past. She had to let Freddie go. She had to accept that, while they would always be friends, Freddie was gay and what they had all those years ago was over.

Jim noticed her hovering and looked up, giving her a small smile. ‘Enjoying the party?’

Mary hummed in response, going to the cupboard where the booze was kept and digging around until she found the rosé she was looking for. When she looked back at Jim, he still hadn’t managed to remove the cork and was quietly cursing under his breath in his thick Irish accent.

It was quite a nice voice, her inebriated mind told her.

‘You have a lovely voice.’ She suddenly said aloud, her words slurred. She wobbled up to him, heels clinking against the kitchen tiles as she unscrewed the top of the rosé bottle. ‘Where is it you’re from again?’

Jim blinked at her dumbly. He wasn’t used to Mary initiating conversation like this; she was usually so reserved. ‘Um, a town called Carlow. It’s near Dublin.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Mary drawled and without any warning, she suddenly plopped herself down in Jim's lap, making him jump in surprise. ‘Ireland is sss-such a lovely place. Lots of sheep there.’

Jim’s face went red, and he carefully set the champagne bottle down on the table. ‘Yeah, I suppose there are.’

Much to his horror, Mary put the bottle of rosé to her lips and began downing the drink ruthlessly, not stopping until it was almost half empty. When she finally stopped, she carelessly abandoned the bottle next to the champagne and turned around to stare Jim directly in the eyes, her smile disturbingly wide.

‘You have beautiful eyes.’ She garbled, moving her finger as if she was going to poke them out, but she instead ended up giving him a weird boop on the nose. ‘And your arms are so big.’ She reached down to squeeze his bicep, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘I bet you’re really strong. Remember when you lifted me up at Freddie’s birthday party?’

Jim remembered. He was so plastered that night he had almost dropped her on her head.

‘Are you feeling alright, Mary?’ he asked warily, not comfortable with how close their faces were.

‘I’m wonderful, Jim.’ Mary giggled again, though it sounded a little manic. ‘I really, really want to dance. Will you dance with me, Jim?’

‘I’m not much of a dancer, Mary.’ Jim coughed, glancing over his shoulder in hope that someone might come through the kitchen door and save him.

‘That’s not true! I’ve seen you dance!’ Mary insisted, pulling at his hands, ‘come on.’

Jim didn’t have the energy to argue with her, already a little tipsy himself, and he allowed her to drag him into the middle of the kitchen, face filling with colour as Mary threw her arms around his neck and sagged all of her body weight against him. He realised rather quickly that if he let her go, she’d probably fall face first onto the floor and never get up again.

The next five minutes had to be the most uncomfortable of his entire life, as he swayed in awkward circles with his husband’s ex-girlfriend, mindfully trying to keep his hands off her waist. He wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he prayed to every God in existence that someone would call him from the lounge and rescue him from this predicament.

Mary suddenly lifted her head from his shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘Marry me, Jim.’

The Irishman stared down at her, eyes comically wide. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Marry me.’ Mary grinned at him, leaning so close that for one horrible moment he thought she might try to kiss him. ‘We can have lots of beautiful Irish babies together.’

Jim sighed. Next time they had a party, he was going to replace Mary’s wine with Ribena. ‘I’m very flattered by your offer, but there are two problems; I’m gay and I’m married to Freddie.’

‘Oh bugger.’ Said Mary, as if she had forgotten that detail. ‘You can still marry me though. We can run away to Cardiff together.’

‘Carlow, Mary.’

Her face suddenly fell and she stepped away from him, looking betrayed. 'Is it because of the cats?'

'The what?'

‘That's why you don't want to marry me, isn't it?’ Mary's lip trembled as if she was about to cry. ‘Freddie has cats and I don't!'

‘Mary, I’m going to get you some water.’ Jim replied, making a beeline for the sink.

‘No, don’t leave!’ Mary grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him back. ‘Stay with me, Jim. I'll buy you all the cats you want!’

‘You’ll feel much better after drinking this.’ Jim said firmly, pouring a glass of water and turning around to hand it to her. As soon as he did, her lips were suddenly pressed against his own, arms locked around his neck so there was no escape as he yelled against her mouth in surprise.

‘Mary!’ he roared, as soon as she released him, half the water having spilled onto the floor during the struggle. ‘What the bloody hell are you playing at?!’

Mary grinned; lipstick smudged across her face, so she looked like the Joker. ‘I’ve never kissed an Irishman before. Does that make me Irish now?’

Before Jim could even answer, she suddenly dry heaved; he grabbed her and stuck her head into the sink as she vomited up the contents of her stomach.

--

‘What the fuck happened?’ Freddie demanded, as Jim walked into the lounge, his shirt ruffled, a smear of red lipstick on his mouth and a very drunk Mary giggling uncontrollably in his arms.

‘Your ex-girlfriend asked me to marry her, then threw up.’ Jim replied, as if this was a normal occurrence. ‘I’m going to put her in one of the guest rooms so she can sleep it off.’

He turned and walked out of the lounge before anyone could respond. Freddie clenched his glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t shatter in his hand.

‘I’m going to murder her!’ he growled, lunging towards the door, only for Phoebe to grab him from behind and hoist him up. ‘Let me go! That backstabbing homewrecker is trying to abscond with my husband!’

‘Take it easy, Fred.’ Phoebe said calmly, holding onto the man effortlessly. ‘You can kill her tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, we haven’t even had dessert yet.’ Said Joe, holding onto Freddie's legs to stop him from kicking. ‘I spent all fucking day slaving over that baked Alaska, you’re eating it whether you like it or not!’

Firstly, I am so sorry you are having a hard day. I feel terrible that whilst you are doing so much to entertain us with this outrageous crackship, you are not having a good time. I can just hope that writing these stories bring you as much joy as they bring us.

And now, the fic. I AM WHEEZING. First of all, I fucking love Joe. Even though we've never heard him speak, or ever listened to his words through his own perspective, I feel that your characterisation is so realistic. His dessert comment slayed me lmao.

And oof, Mary being drunk off her ass is my new favourite trope. And lmao her thinking that Jim doesnt want to marry her because she doesn't have cats😂😂😂 Leave him alone, Mary. He doesn't want to have irish babies with you.

And hahahahaha Freddie's reaction is as epic as I had envisioned. And god, this is another nightmare that Jim isn't going to recover from soon.

This is such a fantastic crackship, omg. I absolutely loved this💙💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

Also anon, if you ever want to talk, you can always dm me, if you are comfortable of course🧡

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #jimary #crack ship #anon writing #phoebe freestone #joe fanelli #brian may #anita dobson

[harmony88]

Absolutely love your writing, I've been binging both series for the last week and I am obsessed. I was wondering, if you want to do it in your universe or not I'd love it - but you would be able to write something where the Doctor and Rose end up cuddling after a really hard day? If there is snogging I won't be mad. LOL . Thanks for your stories! They're great!

Hi there! Oh you made my WHOLE day! I'm so glad you like them! And I'd be happy to write something up! I just jotted this down, hope you enjoy! :)

It didn't proof it and I didn't write it as if it was part the verse you've been reading persay, but I suppose it could take place prior to the start of those series if you want, or just be a different AU entirely. I'll let you decide! Thank you!♥️

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

They stumbled onto the TARDIS covered in mud and smelling a little bit like death. Normally, a hyperbolic thought of that nature would cause him to smile, then ramble, then run to the library and pull down all the texts he could find to prove his point disproving the hyperbole, but that wasn't going to happen today.

He was finding letting go of her hand rather difficult, if not impossible, and she stayed by his side as they approached the console table and returned to the Vortex, where time and space lingered in limbo, just as they liked it.

He glanced over at her, noticing the dirt that was caked onto her cheeks, and he resisted the urge to rub it off with his thumb. She didn't say anything, but she did lean against the controls and sigh, watching as he shifted his focus from her face to the bloody wires that always seemed to his constant companion when it came to deflecting, and she bit her lip.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she whispered. He nodded, still playing with the wires. A moment passed, and she inched her way a little closer to him. "Can I have my hand back?"

"Sure," he said, choosing not to banter. even though he desperately wanted to. "Sorry."

"No one got hurt," she told him.

He stiffened, but he smiled and shrugged the way the words settled in his stomach off, and gestured toward to hallway. "Off you go, Rose Tyler."

She hesitated, and she almost kissed his cheek, but the mud and sweat that was illuminated in the light of the console room convinced her not to, and instead she smiled at him, her tongue doing it's usual thing, and she wasn't entirely surprised when his eyes dropped to her lips for a moment before they returned to the wires. "I'll see you soon?"

"Not if I see you first," he replied, and they both felt the sheer awkwardness of this conversation reach a new point, making her dart down the hallway, desperate to wash away this entire day.

The moment she was gone he collapsed into the pilot's seat, and he buried his face in his hands.

He's had her back for two weeks, and he was trying so hard to make it feel like she never left. He was boisterous always, (except right now he supposed). He was constantly bringing up the past, making jokes and reminiscing, but on each adventure they had gone on so far, in the back of their heads it was there - the lingering dread, the utter fear that the universe wasn't going to let this last, and they were on edge. All the time.

They were falling through space and time. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, unable to fathom letting go. Not after everything. Not after losing each other once, and that intrinsic fear was more than he could handle at any given second.

But her smile made it worth it.

He'd burnt up a sun, and he would burn a thousand more if meant he got to keep her.

He was telling himself it would get better, but so far none of their trips in the last couple of weeks had been very quiet - from meeting a fiery red head in a wedding dress to today, where she was taken to a dungeon and nearly beheaded because they apparently didn't follow proper greeting customs in the 190th century (he had sworn handshakes were still culturally acceptable, but apparently he was wrong), and she spent three hours trying to escape while he spent three hours trying to break in, and well...

They did a lot of running, and a lot of fighting, and somehow they were covered in mud. And all he could think about the entire time was how bloody close he got to losing her again, and he wasn't okay.

He wasn't even a little bit okay.

But he stood and walked to his own ensuite, showering the evidence of his fear down the drain, and eventually he walked out into the library in a fresh suit, with a fresh fire and a fresh pot of tea, and he settled into his armchair with a book he didn't really pay attention to the title of, when he suddenly sensed her waiting in the archway.

He looked over his shoulder at her, his breath catching in his throat when he saw her golden locks tucked up in a rather damp messy bun. She wore a loose t-shirt, one that was a little tattered and clearly loved, but it was her rubber duck pajama pants that was making his hearts break, because he knew what they meant.

She wasn't okay either.

"Hello," he chimed, flashing her a smile.

"Hello," she whispered, and she began to rock on her feet a little awkwardly, playing the bottom of her shirt. "Can I come in?"

"You don't ever have to ask that," he told her, his voice more serious and more tender than he intended, and he swore she blushed. He clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to his book, but he set it down of the table next to his chair and watched her cross to the sofa, tucking her body into a fetal position on the cushions.

She suddenly looked so small it made him want to run to her, but he stayed where he was. Neither spoke for many minutes, but when he saw some tears fall onto her cheeks he was there, curling up behind her, and he pulled her onto his chest.

"It's okay," he whispered.

"It wasn't even that big of deal," she whimpered, her tears growing more uncontrolled. "I'm sorry. I'm going to go -"

She tried to pull away, but he caught her hand before she could and gave her a careful look, and she couldn't help but notice his freckles as they danced against the flames of the fire. For some reason it felt...powerful, or something, she didn't quite have the words, but it was impossible to look away from him and she began to trace her lips with her tongue, lost in thought.

"What?" he whispered. "What are you -"

"Nothing."

"Rose -"

"I'm okay," she insisted. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'm alright," he said, sniffing and leaning back against the sofa. "Think I'm just going to wipe handshakes from my memory, though."

She smiled, and he smiled back, eyes locked and hearts thudding madly in their chests. "What about hand holding?"

"What about it?" he asked.

"You still okay with it?" she said so quietly he barely heard her, and the smile he gave her sent her heart straight to her stomach and her head tripping over her heels.

"Well," he began, the word croaking in his throat, "I s'pose they are loads better than warp drives or wormhole refractors."

He was doing it again, calling back to the past in hopes it made her feel at home, and she bit her lip, slipping her hand in between his and settling back onto the cushion properly, but this time they stayed sitting up. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her as close as he allowed himself to let her be, and the impulse to kiss her hair was nearly all-consuming.

He didn't.

He just squeezed her hand.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For coming to get me."

Her words were soft, but they were loaded, and he knew she didn't mean today.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he replied. She smiled.

"I do."

"Please don't."

He looked down at her, tracing every curve of her face slowly, oh so slowly, so slowly it was rather unfair, because it was stirring a heat and a need and a desire in her that she knew she'd never be able to act on. And before she could stop herself, she brought her hand up to his cheek and gently rubbed the line of his jaw, her fingers ghosting over his skin, warm to the touch and soft as silk, and he shuddered.

She watched his Adam's apple bob once, then twice, and she knew it was just a matter of seconds before he pulled away and started telling her about their next big adventure.

Any second now.

Any second.

"Rose..." he whispered, his breath hitting her cheek.

Any second.

The room started to feel warm in a way a she knew had nothing to do with the fire. Her skin was prickly, wishing so much that it was closer to him, as close as she could be, tangled around him and lost in his arms. It was unbearable, the centimeters between their chests, and his gaze was intoxicating, burning into her, and she noticed his chest was starting to rise and fall in a way he hadn't been before.

His lips parted ever so slightly, and his eyes fell from her face back down to her lips, which she licked before she could stop herself. "Doctor -"

"Stop talking," he said breathlessly and urgently, and he next thing she knew he had his hands on her lower back, pulling her onto his lap, and he was kissing her. She moaned at the suddenness of it, and at the way they seemed to skip a few steps and go straight to grinding against each other with their clothes still on, and he deepened the kiss so his tongue found hers, then snaked his hands under her baggy t-shirt and stopped when he realized she wasn't a bra.

"It's okay," she nearly screamed, but he seemed to realize what was happening and just cleared his throat, and he slipped his hands away, leaving them at his side. "Doctor, please?"

"Not like this," he said, surprising himself. She was stunned and just stared at him, and he made a face of embarrassment. "I meant. Not that I've thought about it, or, just....Maybe not when we're both feeling. Well..."

She smiled, placing her lips back on his slowly, and he couldn't stop the moan from escaping his throat. "Stop talking."

He swallowed hard.

"I'm never going to leave you," she whispered, her hands finding their way into his hair. "Do you believe me?"

"I..." he stammered, closing his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," she hummed. "Then dance with me."

He opened his eyes, but to his surprise she was sliding her body off of his and walking over to the record player in the corner of the room, turning it on and letting a soft melody filter into the room. He stared at her, captivated entirely as she reached out her hand and wiggled her fingers. He took her hand, but rather than stand and sway with her amidst the sea of books and glow of the fireplace, he tugged her back down onto the couch, and he gently laid her down. He hovered above her, kissing her softly, and his hands stayed on her hips, rubbing small circles over her t-shirt. She wasn't going to push him, but she responded in kind, her arms wrapped around his neck, and he groaned her name, still not trying to escalate anything beyond the snog, and she was finding she was absolutely okay with that.

"I think we should move to the bedroom," he said in her ear, and she changed her mind instantly.

"Yeah," she said, but before they had a chance to move, the TARDIS jolted and knocked them off of the couch, their heads clanking and subsequently spinning. "OW."

"You okay?" he asked, and she nodded, standing up with him as they ran to console to see what the hell was wrong. He sighed.

"Fancy a trip aboard an intergalatic war machine?" he asked her with a gleam in his eye.

"Do we have a choice?" she teased. "I'LL GRAB THE PSYCHIC PAPER!"

She was running to her bedroom to change clothes, and he watched her go, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face.

Oh, he was in trouble.

#fanfic #request #doctorandrose #tenthdoctor #rosetyler #thank you for the fun request anon!

[wellknownwolf]

I want to move into a new phase in my relationship with fandom, as I mature with new experiences. I'm not sure what exactly that looks like though. What is your take on the parasocial affection inherent in an RPF like Rhett & Link? Or even the deep attachments that can form with fictional characters? Or a desire to emulate fantasy worlds? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable with all this, it's just that it's been a long time coming, and once I got started I couldn't stop. - Natasha (5)

First, let me post the full question, since it came in 5 parts:

Hey, it's me again. Your 'mystery inquirer', as you so adorably dubbed me. You're right, I had forgotten I'd sent in that ask. Just now, I couldn't help but think about a scene from Life After, as I am wont to on a frightfully regular basis, which is what got me back here. When you said you pondered over my seemingly simple, banal question for a good while, and wrote out a beautifully thoughtful answer like you always do, it made me happy.

Your narrative voice is similar to my own, and it made my chest ache in a certain way to have gotten such a response to what felt like a random shout out into the abyss (though it obviously wasn't, I sent it directly to you, I guess it's more what it felt like taking a chance on a conversation with a random stranger online). And now I'm cringing a bit at how melodramatic all sounds. But I'm committing to it, anyway. That's the beauty of anon, eh?

Wolfie (is it presumptuous to call you that? Please do forgive me the liberty I'm taking), I must admit. I'm quite envious of this community you have with @missingparentheses, @lunar-winterlude, and other wonderful people. Since childhood, I've been head over heels in love with fandom. Not a specific fandom, I've been a traveller through dozens, but fandom in general. I've read probably thousands of fanfics, spent countless hours daydreaming about beloved characters and their stories.

To the point where, in my most recent and worst depressive episode, it may have been for the worse, if I'm honest. Escapism and yearning to the point of impairment, engendering a sense of constant bereavement. But it's taught me so much about life and its wonders, I can't write it off as just some damaging habit. It's such an integral part of who I am, a deeply curious soul (shout out to my Enneagram Type 5-ers out there!). But I don't anyone to share it with, and it can get quite lonely.

I want to move into a new phase in my relationship with fandom, as I mature with new experiences. I'm not sure what exactly that looks like though. What is your take on the parasocial affection inherent in an RPF like Rhett & Link? Or even the deep attachments that can form with fictional characters? Or a desire to emulate fantasy worlds? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable with all this, it's just that it's been a long time coming, and once I got started I couldn't stop. - Natasha

.....................................................................

Thank you for giving me so much to respond to, Natasha.  Thank you for continuing to reach out.   I accidentally wrote something like a paper in response to your thoughtful question.  I even conducted a little research and cited a source.  ENGLISH TEACHER, ACTIVATE!

Also, for what it’s worth, I feel at times that I communicate exclusively through shouts into the abyss, so it’s a language with which I am at home.  In fact, it is this very technique, this experiment with intense vulnerability at the hands of a virtual stranger, that earned me one of my absolutely most-treasured friends: @missingparentheses.  I have poured out a great deal of my own melodrama to her, and she has received it and reciprocated it in a way that, three years later, continues to teach me how to be a better friend.  In short, I’m a firm believer in diving straight in when it comes to new friends.  Cringe not; I’m on board.

So let’s dive.

R&L is really only the second “fandom” with which I’ve been involved.  Third, if we count my preteen obsession with ‘N Sync (and considering how much wall space I dedicated to their posters and self-printed photos, we probably should).  My point is, while I don’t have much experience with the community facet of fandom, I do relate to your feeling of near-obsession.  Or clear obsession.  

I know the feeling of escapism you’re describing, and I know the yearning and melancholy that can come on our worst days, where we feel like “real life” will never measure up to the color and brilliance of the worlds we spend so much time considering. These worlds, these characters and their relationships, their challenges, victories, and defeats all seem so purposeful: they’re the plot points we use to craft the stories in our heads (regardless of whether we’re writers at all).  It can be much harder to view ourselves as protagonists worth analyzing, viewing and reviewing through new lenses, perhaps because we’re warned against navel-gazing, perhaps because our self-perception just won’t allow for it.  Maybe a little of both.

But yes!  It teaches us!  We DO learn about life, other people, love, risk, all kinds of things through what we consume in these fandoms, so I would never classify it as a “bad” thing.  We hone our imaginations and learn to pay attention to our own emotions as we recognize feelings from our favorite shows, games, books, and characters arising in ourselves.  

I used to be a little afraid of the fact that I was always telling myself stories, internally imagining myself as someone else, a player in the worlds I often loved more than my own.  I suspected that someday, somehow, I would be caught playing pretend all the time in my own little ways.  I was a bright and ambitious young woman, so why would I give so much of my mental energy to such frivolous pursuits?

In my first semester of graduate school, though, I learned from a Lit. Theory professor who intimidated the hell out of me that we all do this.  We’re all telling ourselves stories all the time, some of which are true and close to objective reality, some of which are more subjective to whatever fantastical (or fandom) material we last consumed.  I’ve whispered my own dialogue in the shower, but so have you whispered yours in your head (if not also out loud in your shower!).  And through this act, however it is performed, I have made those worlds part of my own.  So have you.  In this way, they are real, and I no longer feel fearful of being “found out.”  

When we have those moments of doubt, though, when we wonder whether we’re going too far, it probably stems, at least partially, from the “us v. them” divide between fandom and mainstream society.  We love our little worlds, but we also feel that twinge of anxiety that we might be bordering on obsession, that our guilty pleasure might be discovered and we will be socially punished for it, namely, as Joli Jensen writes in “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization,” because “the fan is characterized as (at least potentially) an obsessed loner, suffering from a disease of isolation, or a frenzied crowd member, suffering from a disease of contagion. In either case, the fan is seen as being irrational, out of control, and prey to a number of external forces” (13). According the consistent covert (and overt, at times) messages of the mainstream, “[f]andom is conceived of as a chronic attempt to compensate for a perceived personal lack of autonomy, absence of community, incomplete identity, lack of power and lack of recognition” (Jensen 17).  Yikes.  That doesn’t feel good to admit about ourselves, does it?  

Luckily, it’s bullshit.

Treating “fans” as others (outsiders, people who can’t form relationships or find fulfillment in the “real world”) “risks denigrating them in ways that are insulting and absurd” (Jensen 25).  Those who take this stance, who see fans as victims of hysteria or desperate loners, do so in order to “develop and defend a self-serving moral landscape.  That terrain cultivates in us a dishonorable moral stance of superiority, because it makes other into examples of extrinsic forces, while implying that we [members solely of the mainstream] somehow remain pure, autonomous, ad unafflicted” (Jensen 25).  In short, that us/them thinking just makes people feel better about themselves by pointing out an easily-identifiable “other.”

 I have also grappled with the concept of parasocial affection, particularly with R&L.  I was well into writing my first Rhink fic when the thought crossed my mind, “Oh my god, what if I actually met these people someday?  How would I look them in the eye?  I’d feel like a crazy person (again)!”  From the safety of the Midwest, I laughed off the thought.  And then a year or so later, they were announcing their first tour. And I was still writing, here and there, still deep in my affection for them, sometimes wrestling with the thought that I’ve devoted so much energy to people who would never know I exist.  

It doesn’t matter that the attachment was in the most obvious, tangible ways only one-sided.  As an adult who is ever-learning how to navigate the worlds of her own creation and the ones over which she has far less control, I view my intense attachment to characters both real and fictional with deep fondness.   And while I may not receive affection or attention directly from the sources (R&L, fictional characters, sports teams, who/whatever we build fandoms around), I am still earning some very real rewards for my involvement: Because of them, I found my way to a participatory culture in which I was supported and encouraged to express my creativity.  This gave me the push and interest that I needed to hone skills that have not only made me a better writer, but also a better teacher and mentor.  With fandom comes the ability to immediately strike up a conversation over shared interests. With fandom comes a sense of belonging in what we have proven is an awfully divisive world.  

Right now, I’m consuming far less fandom-related material than I did a few years ago.  I don’t really watch GMM anymore and I’m on a break from Ear Biscuits (though I still love it), Gotham ended over a year ago and I’m not in the habit of reading fics right now, and I can’t yet play the remade Final Fantasy 7, so that’s out for me, too (though I know I will fall deep into that well once the game is in my hot little hands).  This all happened by itself.  I never consciously moved away from these sources; I just floated on to other interests and other levels of interest, knowing that if and when I wanted to dig back in, I could always come back.  

I used to feel quite sad at the thought of someday “moving on” from these intense interests.  I couldn’t fathom somehow falling out of love with those bands, actors, or video games.  But for me, the transition into wherever I am now has not been painful in the least.  I’m glad I knew the intensity that I did, and I’m happy with the distance I have now. And there’s a good chance I’ll be fanatic about something else someday.  I’m looking forward to it!

 Here are some responses that I couldn’t organically fit into my essay:

Yes, you can call me Wolfie if you’d like.  That name started with @missingparentheses (her second appearance in this answer!), and quickly became a reminder to not take myself too seriously.  

Second, I don’t think I know any other Type 5s!  I’m a type 8. 

Also, here’s my MLA formatted citation for the Jensen source:

Jensen, Joli. “Fandom as Pathology: The Consequences of Characterization.”   The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media, Routledge, 1992, pp. 9-29.

#ask me anything #fandom meta-discourse #bc I always said I wouldn't get involved in fandom discourse #oh no I'm us/them-ing in my tags! #shame on me!

[mysticraysofsynergy]

Fallen out of Love?

Dedicated: this is dedicated to @youngmoneymilla why? Because I read all her freaky Friday posts and they were so good! I love her writing but then I got sad when I was done so I wrote something angsty. Also because I heard you can tag her so I did to let her know that this was for her. This is also dedicated to the three songs below.

Summary: Thor comes back after the battle at Earth and You happen to find out about Jane Foster and how your husband Thor loves her. You confront him about it, things don't end well. This takes place after Avengers (2012)

Pairings: Thor x reader, Loki x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: cheating, angst

Word count: somewhere around 1,400 around there.

Side note: since I create a character for someone x reader I used Adelaide Kane when she played Mary Stuart I don't know why she just fit the role perfectly. When I wrote this I dedicated it to these three songs.

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

Your heels tapped the golden floors of the beautiful Asgardian palace. Today was the day Thor returned. Your husband and the king of Asgard. You were more than beyond thrilled to see your husband after months.

Your hair in a loose half up half down as you wore the finest dresses the servants weaved for you. Your beautiful smile made the servants you passed smile too. You made way to the throne room were guards stood ready to protect. They bowed down to your presence "My Queen" they both said in unison.

You smiled as there armour made noises as they stood up holding the door for you. You held your hounds together. "Thank you" was all you said as they closed the heavy thick doors.

If you were to be honest you thought he would have come back a week a go since that was when Loki had shown up. And you payed way to see your brother in-law and the Good of Mischief. Thor stood there talking to Odin then when Odin looked your way, he seemed to excuse himself.

Thor had set his hammer beside him as he sat on the steps to the throne. He had his hands on his head deep in thought. His hair pulled back into a low ponytail with his armour still on.

"I suppose that the Sun has aligned us together again" You broke the silence as he looked up chuckling.

"Yes I suppose" he smiled and you couldn't help but softly smile. Thor thought you looked radiant. He loved the way your lips were as red as raspberries. How you had the fairest skin in all of the nine realms how no matter what you wore you still looked absolutely gorgeous. It was too unreal to him.

"So how was it at midgard my love?" You asked, the off the shoulders dress In white that was most certainly beautiful. He noticed it too he liked it, he liked how it was flowy and how it outlined your curves so perfectly. The dress had the straps for your shoulders that hung loose and a golden cuff that wrapped around your tiny waist beautifully. The way the slit in the middle of your chest showed cleavage but not entirely.

The way the dress was thick and in the bottom under it seemed to be some silk.

"Is that a new dress?" He said as you nodded "well I'll tell you about it later" he sighed you could tell he was exhausted. Tired but from what? "I could make you some food if you would like, my king" you smirked your accent thick at the end, you knew it made him feel some type of way when you called him your king.

He liked the way your accent laced with it when the title danced off your tongue. He just grumbled and you giggled. You walked over by the windows that were open. Looking out, the view stunning with townspeople cleaning or living happily then out in the distance the bridge of Bifröst.

He watched your every move even when you walked back to him. Your stomach couldn't help but turn like butterflies but this time it was as if birds were clawing your stomach for a way out. But you went on anyway "My love, whose Jane Foster" you asked.

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

Well this is how it kinda started, you had heard Loki was in his prison so you payed a visit to the God of Mischief. You could tell that he was bored so when you called his name he seemed to be amused you'd actually visit him. "Yes Lady Y/N " he smirked and you just smiled softly.

"Well I've certainly heard from the commoner's how disruptive you've been to Midgard" you said. The thing about you and Loki was that even if he hated everyone he didn't hate you. He knew you were to pure to be corrupted to fair and nice. He loved it when you snapped he even recalled the time you and Thor fought.

How you left Thor at a loss for words as you yelled at him. How Thor stood there angrily taking in the constructive criticism and saying how reckless he was by abusing his power. Odin even stood laughing as he watched them. He thought you were too good for Thor for anyone really.

He noted to never cross the line with you. "Can you tell me what happened in Midgard?" you requested and so Loki did. He was pacing around the cell as he explained every detail. "He even had to make sure this Jane Foster-" he cut himself off quickly realizing he wasn't supposed to mention her name.

You pretended not to hear "What was that?" But then a servant came and bowed "My Queen, Frigga has requested you meet her" the red head said "Seems our time has been cut short" you smiled as you said farewell.

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

Thor looked shocked, again at a loss for words but soon he conjured some " u-um who do you speak of" he stuttered. You knew he was lying he was a particularly bad at doing it.

"Whose Jane Foster?" You repeated "no one" he said "Thor don't lie" you retorted him. "I'm not!" He exclaimed at the accusation.

"Thor look at me and tell me you're not lying, Thor!" He lifted his head looking at you, now you could tell he was exhausted from keeping that secret from you.

"She's a midgardian that I was in love with" he confessed "but you still love her am I correct? did you two at least do anything.. together?" he nodded for both questions "we kissed, that whole week I was gone I spent with her" he confessed

A pain in your heart spread throughout your body, he sighed. You understood "I'm sorry, I meant to tell you I-I really did!" His husky voice cracked a bit. "It's okay, it is you love another and that's fine. You probably fell out of love for me an- 'No, no I could neve- was it non-existent then?- no No that's no- Then it turned platonic? If anything it's fine. You didn't ask to be an a arranged marriage with me. This marriage was for power and and not love" you said but with every word that came out of your mouth it hurt your heart and the lump in your throat started to form.

"Y/N I love you I do- "I just kinda wished I didn't fall in love with you, You don't choose who you get to fall in love with it just happens. I'm not saying you can't be in love with her, my love I'm saying you should be with her, I'll be fine I promise" you furrowed when you tried to clear your throat. Your fragile fingertips grazed along his jaw and chin.

He knew you were hurt he did but he didn't know why you gave him permission. You meant it because you know that if you were in love with someone else that possibly was the love of your life you would want to be with them even if you were married with someone you didn't love. "I'll stay here taking care of my people and continue being Queen of Asgard" you smiled.

He wanted to engulf you into a hug. But he knew you'd push him away, he looked at you with grief and guilt "you have nothing to be guilty of, my love" you said lowering your head to kiss cheek. He seemed surprised and taken aback but it quickly subsided.

He didn't have to look at you to know that you were tearing up to know how plump and wet your beautiful lips were or to know that you looked extremely beautiful crying. Yet it was heartbreaking to witness even more to know he was the cause.

You walked away as you opened the door and it closed. It was already dark and everyone in the palace seemed to be asleep. You made it to the Chambers that was when you dropped to the floor. Your head layed on the door as you cried.

You loved him enough to let him go. He loved someone else and there wasn't anything you can do about it. Tears gushed out of your red shot eyes as your face turned red and your lips quivered you face drenched in tears and your eyelashes wet. The night breeze made your shoulders cold and you kicked off your heeled boots as you kicked the carpet.

Your loud wails hurt your throat and your head ached from the intense grief that filled you.

He loved another but it wasn't you.

#thorxreader #thor the dark world #thor love and thunder #thor #avengers #natasha romanoff #thor odison x reader #thor odinson #tony stark #loki x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #avengers angst #angst #cheating #sad thor #sad reader #jane foster #tumblr #tumblrpage #trending topics #captain america #black widow #falcon #iron man #ant man #doctor strange