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#actually I’d probably join him
kazscrows · 1 year
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Nobody:
Kaz Brekker:
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tchia · 4 months
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Erika Alexander, Quinta Brunson, and Ayo Edebiri at the BAFTA Tea Party.
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exopelagic · 7 months
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FRESHERS FAIR WAS SOMETHING.
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bokutosbiceps · 5 months
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don't be afraid to catch feels
eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji  x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words
warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit
a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !!  might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget
NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!
18+ MDNI | under the cut for length
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eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.
everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.
kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.
kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.
luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you. 
you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.
“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”
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monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.
“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.
“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”
luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually. 
he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.
“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.
“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.
“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.
“different with who?”
“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”
“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?” 
“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”
robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!
luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.
you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.
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roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.
he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first. 
but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.
he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong. 
when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.
“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.
“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.
“luffy doesn’t know—”
“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”
zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.
“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.
you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek. 
“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”
“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.
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trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them. 
and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.
you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you. 
“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”
you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”
bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it. 
a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.
it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.
“that damn bear…”
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usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal. 
“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”
“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.
“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”
usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.
you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.
“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.
“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.
“what’s on your mind, usopp?”
“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”
a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.
“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.
“no, but you just did.”
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vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.
sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous. 
when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.
“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”
you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you.”
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taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Charles Leclerc - Arthur, you are not French...yeah Charles, drag his ass!
I’ve been excited to write this chapter! I know that reader is a Red Bull driver, but I am a Tifosi through and through. Charles holds such a special place in my heart (but so does Max). I feel like one of those “breaking my silence – how I got into F1,” low and behold, I got into the sport from that one Ferrari thirst trap where Charles is lying on the couch. Yeah, you know, that one. 
Anywho, I write these little things before I even get to writing the story and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going with it. I know it's not Christmas yet, but the people spoke - SO HERE WE GO!
Sadly, the tag list is closed to do us reaching the 50 people mark! I never thought that I’d get there though with my story! So thank you to every one of you for making that happen! 
Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3 
Your beanie had started to itch. You had needed it outside due to the cold weather, but now that you were in the car with the heat cranked, it was starting to get a little too warm. As you pulled up to the red light, your hand quickly yanked the hat off. Not to your surprise, your hair was sticking in all directions. That’s ok, you could fix it before you walked into the house. The light turned green, and you had to remind yourself that this was a regular car, on a regular street. Not a hybrid-engine-ran rocket ship that exceeded 300 kilometers per hour on sweet Grand Prix asphalt. 
This year, you had finally accepted Arthur’s invitation for Christmas. Earlier, you had done Christmas morning and afternoon with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. It was everything you could have wished for. And now you were going to spend the rest of the evening with your best friend and his family. You were a tab bit nervous. Sure, you had met them on a handful of occasions, but you tried not to get too close. They were always at grand prixes for Arthur, not you. 
You glanced at the presents that were stacked on the passenger side. The most important one, however, was placed in a bag on the floor. You were not about to let that fall over and possibly break. You knew it was made to be sturdy, but you couldn’t be sure. Arthur had given you the gate key. You pulled up to the little black box and pressed the numbers. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was just Charles’s and Arthur’s racing numbers squished together. 
Arthur had also reminded you that Lorenzo was not going to be joining due to him being at his wife’s family’s for the holiday. That was one less person to impress you had told yourself. 
You pulled into their driveway and parked your car. It was not as impressive at Charles’s custom 488 Ferrari Pista Spider. It wasn’t as if you were almost drooling at the sight of it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably be too scared to drive it to actually enjoy it. Max also had a Ferrari, maybe he’d let you drive it. 
In a parking lot and not exceeding 5 kph. You snorted. Yep, that was Max. 
You did however, have your eye on two special cars. But you wanted to wait a bit before purchasing. You Pinterest board was full of different ideas, but you had to be careful. Maybe Christian could help you out with purchasing. You technically hadn’t bought this car, it was a gift from Lorenzo. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it might be nice to have more than one car. Besides, multiple drivers had multiple cars. You’d just join their ranks. 
Juggling the presents, you walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Your face was hardly visible over the tops of the boxes. The door opened and a familiar voice sounded. 
“Mon Dieu, let me help you.” Presents were being taken from the big stack. 
“Thank you Charles.” You prided yourself on being one of the few people who could recognize the difference between Arthur’s and Charles’s voices. He didn’t reply as he took the presents farther into the house. You followed him through the door and toed off your shoes. Your eyes caught all the lights and decorations in the house. Growing up, you didn’t have such things. Your family always said that being in karting was always going to be your present. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no cookies for Santa and no tree to decorate. 
As you walked more into the warm house, the decorations just kept getting better. Where Max’s house was decorated by Kelly who like a clean Christmas aesthetic, the Leclerc household leaned towards the warmer decorations. The lights didn’t necessarily match and flickered colorful light. The stockings weren’t the same color: they showed personality that matched their owner. Even the ornaments weren’t all from the same container. You found Charles staring down at the presents that he had taken from you. 
“Who are these for?” he turned his head to look at you. 
You snorted, “They’re for your family.” His eyes widened as he rubbed his chin. 
“You didn’t have to.” 
You only shrugged as you began to take off your coat, “I felt like I did. You all have been so kind to invite me here on a holiday that I couldn’t come empty handed.” Charles gestured for your jacket and you gave it to him. 
“You can look around some more if you’d like to. Arthur and maman will be back from the store soon.”  Your cheeks heated at the thought of him catching you ogling at his home. You shook the thought away and looked at everything a little bit closer. 
Like all homes seemed to have, there was a wall filled with picture frames. Some were of each child; some had the full family. It was nice to see all 5 of them together in the center one. You cocked you head at one of them though. You all but tiptoed to get a closer look. It was one of Charles and Arthur, and then an unfamiliar but familiar man stood between them. 
“That’s Jules. If you were wondering.” 
You jumped in place, not noticed that he had snuck up behind you. You looked over and saw that a sad smile had graced his face. Arthur had told you little about him. Charles and Lorenzo would always have been much closer to him. 
“I met him once. During karting,” you trailed off. Charles raised his eyebrows. 
“Really?” It seemed as though the breath had been knocked out of him. 
You gave him a comforting smile, “Yeah. My race was right after yours. I think it was back in 2010,” you looked back at the picture, “and you won that day. I watched him cheer for you like he was the proudest person there that day. He was in a racing suit and had a helmet. I thought that he had come straight from a race or something. But, I only remember wishing that I had someone there for me like you had.” 
Charles now had a guess as to what day that was. He vaguely remembered finally beating Max and feeling so happy. But, he didn’t remember Jules having a helmet. He took the picture down so that the two of you could look closer. It was definitely not taken the day that you were talking about, but the way you talked about him intrigued Charles. He gave you a head nod, silently saying to continue. 
“That day, I also won my race. It hadn’t been the easiest, but the boys were too busy pushing each other off that they didn’t even notice me. I was able to overtake and win. The boys though, weren’t the only ones who didn’t notice. My parents weren’t around when I looked for them. I must have turned around so many times, just trying to find them, but I never did. I had taken my kart back to my station when someone tapped me on the shoulder. He scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but he held my shoulder and told me that I did a great job.” 
Your eyes were slightly watering at the confession. Charles just continued to look at you. 
“I knew who he was. He was the man who always cheered for the Justin Bieber look-a-like who liked to push a certain Dutchman off the track, into a puddle, and claim it was just an inchident.” Charles snorted. 
“I did not look like Justin Bieber.” 
“Whatever floats your boat.” He gave you a look. “American expression. Anyway, after he said that he gave me a hug before my dad came stomping over, complaining about something, I don’t even remember. But all I know is that he made my entire day. My godfather wasn’t able to visit that much or come see me race. So, it was nice to have someone in my corner, even if they weren’t truly there for me.” 
Charles hung the picture back on the wall. The two of you stood there for a quiet moment before Charles spoke up. “How’s your godfather?” 
You inhaled sharply. “He died in 2020. Caught some illness in 2018 and wasn’t able to recover.” 
It broke Charles’s heart to hear you talk about it so nonchalantly. 
“Does Arthur know?” 
You nodded your head. “He caught me crying the first year of his anniversary. Made me spill the beans about what happened. He thought he needed to go beat someone up.” You let out a wet chuckle. When did you even start crying? Looking at Charles, you saw that he was crying too. You continued, “Lorenzo, he, uh, died the day before I debuted in F2.” 
Memories hit Charles like an 18-wheeler. That was you? He remembered that most of the F1 drivers had been invited since the F1 and F2 races were so close together. Hell, even Max was given the opportunity to give the winner the trophy. He remembers watching you dominate that race. He watched you offer that trophy to the sky. He saw a hunger that he hadn’t seen in a long time. 
He finally spoke up, “You were incredible.” 
“Thank you,” you paused before adding, “he’d be proud of you. Jules, I mean.” You looked back at the picture and how it seemed right at home amongst the others. 
“Lorenzo would be proud of you as well.” You flashed him a grateful smile, full of teeth. He mirrored, dimples prominent. 
You threw your head back and laughed. Charles cocked his head. 
“What’s the matter?” he barely got out as he began to laugh as well. 
You poked his cheeks, “You and Thur have the same dimples.” Charles rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. You pouted. “Rude.” 
He was about to reciprocate but the sound of the door opening caught the two of yours attention. Charles quickly pushed you into a dark room. You gave him a confused look before he put a finger to his lips. You smirked back and stayed silent. 
Pascale walked in first followed by Arthur. Charles greeted his mother and then brother. 
“I saw Y/n’s car in the driveway. Where is she?” Arthur looked around the house. 
“She went to the bathroom, but hasn’t come back. I think I scared her off,” Charles faked a sad look.  
Arthur flashed a comforting smile to his brother. “I’ll go find her. Hopefully she didn’t fall in or something.” That almost made you laugh. 
Arthur flipped on the lights to the hallway. This was your chance. He barely got past the doorframe before you jumped out onto him. 
His squeal echoed through the room, laughter following it. In your grand scheme, you had accidentally fallen on top of him. Your giggles continued as Arthur tried to push you off. He finally gave up after a few moments. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but honestly you didn’t care. You swear you heard a click of a camera, but you disregarded it. 
“Are you done?” Arthur sarcastically asked. 
“No, I’m actually quite comfortable. Thank you for asking though,” you smirked. After a few more moments later, Arthur quickly rolled you off and got up. You let out a huff before making grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled you up. 
You were finally able to greet Pascale. She brought you into a hug and did the two kisses. You reciprocated. It came naturally after being teammates with Arthur for so long. You smiled at the memory of him doing it to you for the first time. He was so embarrassed after until you calmed him down enough to say that you didn’t mind. You knew it was a part of his culture and that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to do so. 
“Thank you for inviting me.” You shot her a shy smile. She rubbed your back before exiting the hug. 
“There is no need for thanks. Arthur has been begging for years.” A noise of protest rang through the air. 
“I have not.” 
“Non, it’s true. He has.” Charles looked at his brother. Arthur had a look of betrayal that sent you spiraling into another laughing fit. 
By the time you were finished, Arthur gave you a look. 
“Where’s you Christmas sweater?” You looked down at the one you were wearing. You thought it looked just fine. It was a nice dark green and Kelly had complimented you many times. 
“I thought this looked nice?” You were beginning to doubt. Maybe you couldn’t do this Christmas thing. 
Arthur shook his head before disappearing down a hallway. 
You glanced at Charles and whispered, “I ruined it didn’t I?” You looked down at your feet. 
“Non gosse, you didn’t ruin anything. Just look.” You looked back up and saw that Arthur now had another sweater in his hands. (translation : no kid)  
“I can’t believe I forgot to give you this. Sorry Y/n, we normally wear ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters to celebrate. The one you have on is fine, but this is the Leclerc celebration now.” He all but shoved you towards a bathroom so that you could change. You slipped the other dark green sweater on after you took off your first one. 
The front made you laugh. It wasn’t ugly per say, Arthur must have toned it down for you. On the front was the Grinch. It was actually kind of cute if you thought about it. You folded your first sweater and walked out. Now you noticed that Charles’s had a bright orange sweater with a gamer Santa on it; Arthur’s actually lit up; and Pascale had a cute one with a reindeer on it. 
When he noticed your return, Arthur’s arms shot up. “Now you look festive!” 
“How long did it take you to find that one TurTur?” You motioned your finger up and down, pointed at his sweater. 
His arms crossed protectively around it as he let his jaw hang. “I’ll have you know that this is imported.” 
You gave him a bombastic side eye. “Sure.” 
Pascale clapped her hands, “Picture time by the tree!” 
You kind of awkwardly stood there as she took pictures of the two boys. You warmly smiled as she gushed over the two of them. You made your way to the kitchen and picked up two bottles. Were these alcoholic? You squinted at the label. 
“Y/n!” You froze and looked at the family of three. Arthur was snickering. 
“You know you’re not allowed to drink yet.” You rolled your eyes. 
Charles shot you a mischievous smile. “Gosse, come, we’ll send a picture to old Maxy. Maybe give him a heart attack.” 
You smirked back as you walked with the two bottles. You posed in front of the tree with the glasses on either side of you. The four of you laughed as you set them down. You wanted to make a run for it, as to not ruin the pictures, but Pascale insisted that she wanted one of the three of you. 
Your heart swelled as she took a picture of you in the middle of Arthur and Charles. She also insisted to get one of just you and Arthur. Your cheeks heated as you caught her muttering about a picture to show your kids one day. You only hoped that Arthur hadn’t heard. 
He did and his heart soared at the thought. 
Once the pictures were done, everyone was able to have a few snacks and drinks, yours of course being non-alcoholic. 
Then it was time for the presents. The thing you were worried about the most. You soon found yourself seated on the floor in a half circle. Pascale was the only one in a chair, but you didn’t blame her. The boys were the ones to pass out the presents. To your surprise, you had received three presents. Your eyes wanted to water, but you blinked the tears away. 
They all opened the ones from you first. 
Arthur lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when he saw what you had gotten him. The two of you had been shopping earlier in the year, when you had come across a watch shop. Arthur had wanted to buy a specific one, but was heartbroken when they said that they were sold out. But, while Arthur was having a crisis about it, you secretly asked to be put on the waitlist. They had said that they couldn’t be 100 percent that you’d get one, but there was no harm in asking. 
Surprisingly, when you got back for a small break, there was a package from the store waiting for you. You had also taken it to another watch store to have something added. 
“Turn it over,” you whispered, scared of his next reaction. He inhaled sharply at what the engraving read. 
January 25, 2020 – Best Friends for the Rest of Our Live, Keep at it TurTur! 
Arthur quickly clamored over to you and wrapped you in a deep hug. Again, you heard the sound of a camera, but dismissed it. 
Next Charles opened his. It wasn’t as sentimental as Arthur’s but you tried your best. Before hand, you had asked what type of jewelry Charles likes. You knew he was a ring and bracelet guy, but had rarely seen him with a necklace. So, you got him a simple one that he could wear with any outfit. 
He thanked you with a warm smile. 
Pascale was very happy with hers. Knowing that she had a hair salon, you googled many gift ideas for her. But every sing one of them to come up was always a pair of scissors. Wanting to do better, you did some more digging. Finally, you decided on one of those fancy circle vacuums that moves by itself. You knew how your back hurt after sweeping up a floor. You couldn’t imagine how her’s might feel. She also gave you a hug. 
Now it was your turn. 
The first present was from Arthur and it had you in tears. There in a rectangular box was a new pair of Lightning McQueen crocs. 
“You know this is like my third pair right?” 
He only nodded, “Yes, but are those pairs signed by Lightning McQueen himself?” Your eyes bulged as you turned them over. 
You were expecting Owen Wilson’s signature, but when you read it, you laughed even harder. There on the bottom, in fancy script, was Charles’s signature. You looked over at Charles as you wiped your eyes. 
“I’m honored sir.” 
Charles rolled his eyes, and touched his heart, as to accept the thanks. His present wasn’t as funny, but it was appreciated. You guessed that Arthur had told him what your favorite restaurant was because his gift was a hefty gift card. Your eyes widened when you saw the total. 
Pascale’s was very sentimental though. In her present were multiple pictures in frames. Some you noticed that she must have gotten from the internet or had Arthur reach out to Vito. The one that made you tear up was one of the last pictures taken of you and Lorenzo. Your smile was so bright as you held you trophy. You were looking into the camera, but Lorenzo was looking and smiling down at you. Your fingers traced his face. 
You placed the pictures down and brought her into a giant hug. After you were done, you wiped your eyes, overcome with emotion. Arthur clapped his hands to bring everyone’s attention to him. You almost jumped out of your skin. 
“All right, party time!” He raised his arms and started to walk toward the kitchen. 
Your eyes widened as you remembered something. “Wait!” 
The three of them stared at you. You inhaled. 
“I have one more thing. For all three of you.” They looked at you with a puzzled look. You walked over to the counter where you had placed the black bag that you came with. You gestured for them to come over. 
Arthur cocked his head, “Y/n, why’d you bring a helmet bag? We swapped helmets already.” His accent got thicker as he got more confused. 
You shook your head slightly as you let out a shaky exhale. You carefully started to unzip the bag. It was true, what Arthur said. The contents were a helmet. 
“Gosse, is this your new helmet for next year? It’s very outdated and I don’t think this is safe, ” Charles questioned, confused as to why you’d bring a helmet to Christmas. 
However, Pascale let out a gasp as her eyes danced over the helmet, now in your hands. She put her hands to her mouth. She had recognized it immediately. 
“Is this?” The rest of the question went unsaid, but you knew what she was going to say. You nodded you head and handed it to her. She turned it around, expecting all the angles. She let out a wet laugh as she carefully and slowly handed it over to Charles. Arthur stood close, looking at it as well.
“Arthur, before you got here, I was telling Charles of how I was able to meet your godfather,” you started. “And I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for his encouragement. I knew that he had come straight from a race, because he was still wearing his suit and he carried a helmet.” 
Charles made a confused face, “But he didn’t have a helmet. His hands were both empty, because he caught Arthur when he ran over to him after he showed up.” You could tell that his mind was trying to connect the dots.
“Well. He wouldn’t have had the helmet,” you trailed off. Arthur’s head shot up. 
“Because he gave it to you,” Arthur finished. Charles inhaled sharply as he looked over the protective gear in his hands. 
Pascale had come close to you, a hand around your shoulder that rubbed up and down, trying to give some comfort. 
The two boys looked as if they were going to cry. Charles let Arthur hold it. 
“How? Why?” Charles questioned, tears threatening to fall. 
“Well, I thought it had gotten destroyed or thrown away. I left it at my parent’s house, and when I told them I was moving out for reasons, they didn’t react well.” You didn’t want to give too much away. “I was sure that they were going to burn all of my things. But, I went back to see just in case. I was mostly correct; except they didn’t touch my closet. It was hiding in the back behind some clothes.” You remembered crying when you found it, holding it close for comfort. It had been one of the few things that you took from the house back to your apartment in Nice. 
“I also wanted to bring it back, where it belongs.” 
Charles glanced at you and then the helmet between Arthur’s fingers. “But, he gave it to you. You need to keep it.” 
You shook your head. “Jules told me to keep it safe and to hold onto it for safe keeping. I always thought that I’d be able to give it back to him one day. I guess this is the closest thing I can do.” 
Arthur gave the helmet back to his brother and walked over to you. You looked into his big blue eyes, filled with tears. Unable to hold back, he tucked his face into your neck, holding you tight. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks. 
You knew that Arthur always felt bad about not being as close to his godfather, like Charles and Lorenzo had been. He had been 15 when Jules died, and you always wished that the family had had more time with him. Pressure was added on your other side. Looking over slightly, your eyes caught sight of Charles’s brown hair. You managed to put your other arm around him. You held the two brothers close, your heart melting. 
Is this what a family is supposed to feel like? 
Max’s family was a different dynamic. Yes, they enjoyed hugs and being close, but it wasn’t like this where you could hold each other for hours. Well, maybe Max would let you, he was so overdue for a giant group hug.
Arthur couldn’t get over the fact that you were so close. He hoped that you didn’t hear his heart racing. He’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. His tears had dried up, but he never wanted to let you go. Your heart was too big and too fragile for anyone else to have it. But here you were, opening it up to his family. He couldn’t have asked for someone better to hold your place in his heart. He could only dream that you held him close to your heart, as he did with you to his. 
You would never tell him, but you did. 
Charles on the other hand could not stop the tears. He wondered how long you had waited. Shy, quiet you. Before this, he had seen you a couple of times before with Max at the beginning of the break. He’d often run into the two of you shopping or getting groceries. You’d always find a way to give a small wave, before turning to do something else while Max talked to him. He wondered what was so special about you. Max, in all his life, had never looked at something as he looked at you. It was different than the way he looked at Kelly. Heck, he even looked a Penelope differently. Charles had rolled his eyes a few more times than he’d like to admit whenever Arthur would bring you up in conversation. But now, as you tried to comfort him and his brother, he finally understood. You were the family that they were missing. 
Pascale watched as the three of you broke your little hug. Smiles adorned your faces as you held the other close. She wished Lorenzo would have been here to meet you. She had a feeling that he and Charlotte would like you, as her other two sons did. 
Their little celebration started moments after, the helmet at the center. Your smile never left your face for the rest of the night. You were sad that they didn’t let you sneak in one sip of the bottled drink. 
“It’s probably not even good,” you told them as you took a sip of your drink. 
“Y/n it is good. We French know what good alcohol is,” he took a sip. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as you saw Charles gawk at him. 
“Arthur, you are not French,” you watched as Charles put an arm around Arthur’s neck. You were quick to grab his drink so it wouldn’t stain the carpet. “Yeah Charles, drag his ass!” 
Arthur held out a hand, dramatically going down. “My best friend betraying me for my brother. Could this day get any worse?” 
“Charles, you should have heard all the times he said that he was French when we would do videos.” You smirked evilly at the two. 
“Y/n! You weren’t supposed to tell him!” 
“Arthur, how many times to I have to tell you? WE ARE NOT FRENCH, WE ARE MONAGUESQE!! 
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cozage · 8 months
Note
Coza! congrats on 2K followers. I like your smuts and i don't know what. idea I want.CouldI request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy + ace + Zoro + sabo + taking care of you when your sick.
I am actually very sick today so this one was nice to think about :) 
Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Ace, Zoro, Sabo CW: I didn’t proofread this forgive me for errors   Total word count: 860
In Sickness and Health
Luffy
He is worried sick about you. He spends the whole morning just trying to get you to laugh. 
He tells jokes, makes funny faces, and plays pranks on Zoro. Anything he can think of to get you smiling and laughing.
Sometimes he succeeds in getting you to laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit, so he eventually gives up on the laughing endeavor. 
Instead, he climbs into bed with you and pulls you flush against his body. He holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ears to lull you to sleep. 
He wipes the sweat off your brow and rubs your face with a cool rag when you get hot. Even when you're asleep, he still does it. 
When it’s time to eat, he doesn’t ask for your food. It’s probably one of the first times in his life that he hopes there are no leftovers. He knows you need the food to get strong. 
And when you finally get out of bed, he bounces with joy, excited to resume his normal routine with you again. 
Ace
Ace doesn’t know what to do when he wakes up and you’re the warm one in the bed. So he runs to get Marco. 
“They're fine,” Marco says. “It’s just a fever. It will pass.”
“Can’t you just heal them?!” Ace whispered, looking at you nervously. 
“With little things like this it does more harm than good. Let their body fight it. If it’s still bad in 24 hours, come back to me.”
Ace is so worried he doesn’t eat. He doesn’t leave your side. He had tried to cuddle up to you, but you had kicked him away. 
Now he sits on the floor beside the bed, his hand outstretched and intertwined with yours as you sleep. 
He only wakes you to drink water and to eat. Even though it’s the last thing you want, he makes you consume something to keep your energy up. 
After a few hours, he still hasn’t moved from his spot, and you finally allow him to rejoin you in bed. The heat is still miserable, but at least he’s a comfy pillow. 
The next night your fever finally breaks. And though you’re still miserable, at least he knows you’re going to be okay. 
Zoro
Zoro was surprised that you weren’t out on the deck by mid morning. You hadn’t had a particularly late night, so it strikes him as strange. 
As he opens the door to your room, you groan and roll away from the light. 
He barks out a laugh. “That hungover? I didn’t even see you drink!”
“Migraine,” you moan, pressing your hands to your temple as you speak. 
“Oh.” Zoro's voice instantly drops several octaves. “What can I do?”
“Just come lay here with me.” You stretch out an arm to him, beckoning him into bed. 
He has no option but to join you, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you and flexing against you. You feel safe in his arms, and slip into unconsciousness immediately. 
When you finally wake up, the sharp stabbing has left, but Zoro still has you firmly in his arms. 
“Are you hungry? Do you-“
“Shower,” you cut him off with your own words. “I’d really like a shower.”
So he leads you to the bath house and he gingerly washes your hair and your body as you keep your eyes closed, trying to minimize the effects of your migraine. 
When you finish in the shower, he silently takes you back to your room and the two of you lay around for the rest of the day, quietly talking or sleeping or just enjoying each other's company. 
Sabo
“Soup?” He whispered, cracking the door open just a tad as he held a bowl.
“How’d you know?” You groaned, throwing a pillow over your head. 
He laughed, deciding not to tell you how it was almost noon. He knew you weren’t always an early riser, but you were only in bed at this time if you were sick. 
“I called out, so we can-“
“Sabo!” You cried. “You shouldn’t have called out!”
“But you’re sick.” He held out a book. “I got you a new book and everything.”
You hummed in delight, taking the book from him and setting it down on the nightstand. 
“Do you want to be alone, or can I join you?”
You really didn’t want another body in the bed with you while you were feeling so gross. But you also didn’t want to be alone. 
“Can you just stay in the room?” You asked. 
“Let me grab some work, I’ll be right back.”
He worked quietly at his desk in your room, only taking breaks to fetch you water or food or anything else you would ask for.
And you fell asleep to the quiet scratching of his pen, sleeping well in the fact that he would never leave you alone when you needed him. 
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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months
Text
Come with me now on another story adventure.
Some types of hardship do start to feel like curses if they happen often enough. One thing I’ve experienced a lot- or at least enough to posit a curse- is my apartments flooding.
I’ve had flooding in three separate apartments I’ve lived in.
The place I lived with Betty flooded due to a massive rainstorm and poor placement on a downhill slope. Betty’s room was more effected than mine, but due to poor handling by the management it resulted in some rampant black mold and my eventual falling out with Betty as we broke the lease to escape.
My first flooding though. Happened when I lived in a third floor apartment. How, you might ask, is that possible?
Oh, Reader. Prepare yourself.
Now, I need to set the stage. Because you see, I shared this apartment with the last boy I’d ever date. For the purposes of this story let’s call him Connor. We’d known going into the relationship that I had a predilection for pussy but it finally clicked that I was just not attracted to men.
This was particularly devastating because I still loved that boy with all my heart but neither of us were getting what we needed out of the relationship. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere in the apartment in which he was sleeping on the couch was A BUMMER.
We were both sick, probably from stress, and had bad coughs. It was the night before midterms.
I was tucked up into bed, with little kitten Leeloo, ready to get to sleep. It was about 10pm. Connor knocked and poked his head into the room.
“It’s raining in the bathroom,” he said.
I got out of my comfy bed, and joined him in the bathroom. Raining was an exaggeration but there was definitely water dripping down the door jam and pooling up under the paint.
“That’s not good.”
We both stared at this problem together, sick and sad.
Finally, I suggested, “Go see if the upstairs neighbor left a faucet on. I’ll try to call maintenance.”
He left and I started making calls. At 10pm it was understandable that I was getting a lot of voicemails. Two maintenance lines deep, Connor returned.
���The people above us are getting drops too, and the place above that won’t respond.”
Four defunct numbers later, I finally got ahold of an emergency maintenance guy who was on call. “It’s raining in our bathroom.”
He was befuddled and said he’d be in soon.
That was about when it really actually started raining. Drips began pouring out of light fixtures. Terrified, we turned off the lights we could, setting out bowls and towels to mitigate water damage. Water dripped from several lights and started pooling ominously in the long flat kitchen light.
The maintenance man arrived around midnight. There was bowls and buckets littering the ground as Connor and I watched in abject misery as water filled them. The maintenance man was wildly out of his depth, having been left in sole charge while the entire rest of the staff was on vacation.
As we spoke to him, the water infiltrated our smoke alarm which began screaming in earnest at this wet invasion. The maintenance man promised to try to see what was causing the issue and fled. Connor and I regarded each other. We coughed, sick and exhausted, then went to empty the water buckets.
An hour passed. The smoke alarm persisted, it’s three shrill screeches pounded relentlessly into our ear drums. We stopped existing as individuals and became vessels of suffering. The paint in the bathroom started sloughing off the wall in wet ripples.
Connor tried to rouse the neighbor again and returned unsuccessful.
The maintenance man returned. It was 1am. He couldn’t get ahold of the apartment causing the flooding. He couldn’t get ahold of his bosses. After the update he made to leave and we begged him, please, just make the beeping stop, please. It can rain inside, and I can get no sleep the night before midterms, and I can cough miserably all night while I empty water bowls, but please, god, please, just make the beeping stop.
He promised to try and left. At some point around then, the flat kitchen light shattered under the pressure and gushed out a fall of water. Connor and I gave a bleak half hearted startle and tried to scrounge up more towels.
I started slipping into madness. The unceasing blaring beeps. The rain. The misery of being in this wretched situation with someone I used to be able to reach toward for comfort who I couldn’t anymore. This was hell, I decided. This circumstance fits into how they torture people, and I live here in this torturescape now. The maintenance man was never coming back.
The maintenance man came back with a ladder eventually.
Connor and I watched with blank hungry eyes as he fussed with the alarm and at 2am it finally ceased its shrieking klaxon of madness. I cried. The man left again. We emptied the bowls.
And finally, half an hour later, the rain began to abate. The maintenance man returned to inform us that he’d entered the upstairs unit.
Someone had become incapacitated and left their bath running. He was not at liberty to disclose what happened so presumably someone was sauced out of their gourd and fell into a deep stupor such that several hours of sustained door pounding couldn’t rouse them.
People all down the row flooded, and he looked near tears himself. We thanked him and went to collapse into bed. Neither of us took midterms the next day.
Connor and I are still friends to this day, even after a night fit to drive someone mad.
My last event of apartment flooding was a sewer main getting blocked. It was when my betrothed and I had just started dating and they were hanging out at my place while I was at work. Due to this good fortune, they were able to move my couch, entertainment system, and electronics out of the path of the flood.
It took a week and some extremely pointed emails to get the landlord to comp me rent for the week I couldn’t live there and the entire time I was just thankful I wasn’t stuck with water dripping from my lights while a fire alarm drove me to the brink of madness.
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riordanness · 4 months
Text
fictional — [p.jackson]
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2.1K wordcount
warnings: none
requested: no
‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’
I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.
Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.
I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.
Percy Jackson.
I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.
I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.
The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.
“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”
“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”
Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.
“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”
“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.
“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”
“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”
Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”
I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”
And even Andie can’t argue with that.
I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.
I perk up, though, when I hear something new.
“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”
Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.
A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.
I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.
Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.
The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.
This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.
And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.
The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”
I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.
“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”
I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.
I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”
The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.
“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”
I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.
Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”
I just stare at him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
“Your name is Percy Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.
Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”
I nod slowly. “Of course.”
Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”
My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”
Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”
It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.
I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.
The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.
The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.
It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.
Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.
The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.
“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”
Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.
I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”
Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”
“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”
“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”
I relax. “It’s okay.”
I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.
“What are you thinking about, love?”
“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”
Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”
“You don’t have plans?” he asks.
I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.
“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.
“Wait,” I say. “What?”
“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”
“You aren’t saying no.”
“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”
Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.
“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”
I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.
“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.
Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”
I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”
“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.
And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.
Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.
The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.
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benedictscanvas · 4 months
Text
pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?��
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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littlespoonevan · 23 days
Note
If you are looking for prompts.... Eddie and Tommy realising they unintentionally excluded Buck ?
ohohoho this was fun to write but Sad also bc eddie is clearly thinking one thing and tommy is clearly thinking many things and buck is off in his loft thinking many, Many things but i hope you like it, friend 💛
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Eddie hobbles over to his couch with Tommy’s help.
“There you go, man,” Tommy says as he gets Eddie situated on the cushion. “You need anything?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie replies, waving a hand. “There’s beer in the fridge though; help yourself.”
Tommy doesn’t take him up on the offer, instead moving to sit on the coffee table next to where Eddie’s propped up his injured leg.
“So, uh, Buck can get pretty competitive?” He says it like a question, nodding to Eddie’s wrapped ankle as if in proof and it’s, well-
“No, actually,” Eddie says, and he feels…stuck between a long-ingrained need to defend Buck and confusion as to how they ended up here in the first place.
Because this isn’t like Buck. Because Buck usually spends his every waking minute actively trying to keep Eddie out of harm’s way. He sure as hell is never the cause. And Eddie knows he didn’t mean to, is the thing. But just calling it a simple accident doesn’t feel quite right either.
“I don’t-” he starts and then reconsiders what he’d planned to say. “Honestly, Buck’s been a little off this week so I think…”
He trails off. It feels weird talking about Buck with someone who isn’t close to them, who doesn’t just implicitly gets all the intricate mental gymnastics behind Buck’s every action.
Then again, Eddie’s not sure if anyone is actually as adept at figuring out how Buck gets from A to Z as he is.
“Is it because of me?” Tommy asks and he looks genuinely concerned.
Eddie replays every conversation he’s had with Buck this past week – every too bright smile Buck flashed him, every enthusiastic assertion that he thought it was great Eddie had a new friend – and then he, inexplicably, thinks about when he first joined the 118 and some things slot into place.
“I think he was maybe a little worried,” Eddie allows. “That I was replacing him with you.”
Tommy’s eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep of the living room and the multiple photo frames of him, Buck and Christopher on the mantel and the side table before he looks back to Eddie. “Is that even possible?”
Eddie shakes his head, letting out a laugh. “I mean, no. Obviously. But Buck just- sometimes he needs reminding how much he means to people.”
Guilt settles between his ribs then. He’s been too distracted this week, too excited about having someone he had so much in common with around to talk to. If he’d taken half a second to look a little closer he would’ve realised Buck was spiralling.
“I should’ve spoken to him,” he sighs. “Reassured him that we weren’t trying to exclude him.”
Tommy frowns. “You really think that’s how he felt? I thought you said he never wanted to play basketball when you asked?”
“I think it was more than just the basketball,” Eddie says, wincing – the memory of him asking Buck to babysit instead of coming to the bar with them feels particularly bad.
Tommy nods slowly, mind clearly working. He’s quiet for so long Eddie thinks about telling him not to worry about it, that he’ll deal with it, but then-
“Why don’t I go talk to him?” he suggests, confident and sure. “Clear the air? I don’t want him to think I’m trying to get in the middle of you two.”
It takes Eddie by surprise. There’s a strangely defensive part of him that wants to say he and Buck don’t need anyone to mend their fences for them but he shoves the thought aside and reminds himself that’s not what Tommy means. Buck had sought Tommy out too last week and they’d seemed to get along. Maybe Tommy wants to clear the air for his own sake.
So he says, “Yeah,” probably a few seconds too late and makes himself smile. “Normally I’d be the one driving to his house and forcing him to talk. But I guess I’m kind of out of commission right now.”
He nods at his foot and Tommy laughs, pushing himself up off the couch to stand. “Well, hey, I’ll be sure to pass on your regards.”
“Thanks,” Eddie snorts.
Tommy claps him on the shoulder as he rounds the couch. “Don’t forget to take those pain pills, man. I’ll let you know how things go with Evan.”
He calls the rest of his sentence over his shoulder as he heads for the door and Eddie manages a half-hearted, “Will do,” as he hears the click of the latch.
And he feels…how Buck has felt all week, probably. Confused and irritated and a little possessive. Like Tommy’s stealing his job. As if Eddie hadn’t just told him it was fine. As if Eddie could even make it over to Buck’s place right now. At least he managed to hold back the petty, “His name is Buck,” that had immediately rose up in his throat as soon as Tommy had called him Evan.
Shaking his head, he reaches for the paper bag with his prescription that Tommy had left on the coffee table.
He’ll talk to Buck tomorrow and everything will be fine.
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ynbabe · 5 months
Text
bffs with the rookies- incorrect quotes 1!
Just a lil sum sum to show more abt the relationships in the AU
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Y/N: A stake to the heart won't kill a vampire if their tits are big enough. Oscar: Yeah, you just catch it. Logan: Nah nah nah, deflects it. Stake? Just bounces right off. Done. Back to doing hot girl shit. Arthur: Then I just use a spear instead. Y/N: You are trying so hard to kill a vampire with big bazongas, and for what? Why would you do that to the ecosystem?
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Oscar: It’s Christmas! Are you all in a Christmas mood?! Logan: Merry crisis. Arthur: Jingle bells, jingle bells, single all the way. Y/N: Hoe hoe hoe. Oscar: Guys, please.
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Oscar: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Logan? Logan: Arthur, easily. Arthur, laughing: What the fuck, man. Logan: Well, Y/N would be too easy. She’d probably be into it. Y/N, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?
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Logan: How do I ask someone out? Y/N: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two. Logan: No! Arthur: Twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car. Logan: Stop! Oscar: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream. Logan: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.
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Y/N: Fight me! Arthur: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle? *Later* Logan: Why is Arthur crying? Oscar: Y/N kicked him really hard on the ankle.
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Y/N, to Oscar: When was the last time you let someone hug you? Oscar: *thinking* Oscar: 2012. Arthur: 2012…? Oscar: Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Logan out so I let him hug me.
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Lando: You know what? Lando: When I joined this friend group I thought you guys would be dealing with my bullshit. *Y/N, Arthur and Oscar continue screaming about mold water* Lando:Not the other way around. Logan: I dunno, sounds like you need to drink the mold water.
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Lando: Mice are having sex in my walls. Arthur: Tattletale! Logan: You're just being ungrateful. Y/N: It's their home too, you know. Oscar: So what? Don't slutshame them. Lando: The mice are fucking AND now I'm getting heckled.
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Oscar: Team A will consist of myself, Arthur, Lando, and Logan. Oscar: Team B will consist of Y/N, cause she scares me.
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How Lando and Y/n became friends:
Logan: Why aren't there friend pick up lines? Pick up lines to make friends like- Logan, to Arthur: Hey, that's a cute outfit. You know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual. Y/N, to Lando: Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire. Oscar: There are two types of people.
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Charles: I’m not mad, I just need to know why you two had a fake ID. Arthur: *Incoherent mumbling* Charles: Huh? Y/n: …You need to be 18 to hold the puppies at PetCo.
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Charles (brainstorming ideas for pranking Max): How much could a serial killer mask possibly cost? Y/n: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful. Charles: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that? Y/n: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Charles.
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Y/n: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts! Arthur, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack. Y/n, deadpanning at Arthur Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.
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Arthur, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs? Charles: It means like in hand-to-hand combat. Arthur: Ohhhh- Y/n: Both of you get out of this kitchen.
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Logan: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Y/n For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Logan: Mean.
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Y/n: Dumbest scar stories, go! Oscar: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Charles: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Logan: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Arthur: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Max: Max: I have emotional scars.
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When Max and Charles got spam called by Y/n and the group after their party:
Max: I CAN'T DO IT! Charles, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Max: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Lando: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Max: Max: I appreciate it, Max: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Charles: Max- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Lando: Max we gotta- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Max: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Max, motioning to Y/n, Oscar, Arthur and Logan: NOT FUCKING THIS
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domxmarvel · 5 months
Text
Twisted wonderland-Card writing challenge
Masterlist 
Riddle
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“Don’t forget your sunscreen” Riddle quickly grabbed your arm,rubbing some in with a focused expression on his face. 
“Riddle” He looked up at you “You’re here to relax,and not worry about every little thing. Come on,lay down and I’ll bring you something to drink” He did what you asked but not without wanting to retaliate. 
“Then who’s going to make sure they-”
“Not you” You were expecting him to go back to making sure everyone was behaving the second you turned your back but surprisingly he was still in the same spot when you returned. You handed him the glas,the ice hitting the sides of glas. “Glad you didn’t run off to scold someone” He just reached out,took the glas and took a sip.
“You’re right I should try to relax”  
“Good boy” His face turned as red as his hair “Once you’re done join me in the water”
“O-Okay” 
Malleus
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“Excuse me,may I have this dance?” You turned to the sound of the voice,only to see Malleus standing there with his hand outstretched. You took his hand. 
“Of course you may” He kissed the back of your hand before pulling you close,putting his arm around your waist. Pulling you to the center of the room,everyone parted to let him through. He stopped only in the center of the room,you felt like everyone was staring at you and they probably were. “Everyone’s staring at us” You whispered,he pulled you closer.
“I can tell them to leave if you want”
“You would really do that?”
“Of course,I’d do anything for you”
“Don’t actually tell them to leave,it’s fine. I’m just not used to being stared at”
“Just focus on me,you won’t even know they’re here” He held you close as you danced around the room. Malleus was clearly enjoying this,the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. 
Lilia
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“Y/N wanna join me for band practice?”  Lilia asked,already dressed in a pop punk way you never thought you’d see.
“I didn’t even know you played an instrument” You were too stunned to even ask about the outfit too. 
“I also sing,” He added,smiling like he wanted to talk about it more. You knew that Lilia was older than he looked and probably done more in his life then you could imagine but the thought of his playing an instrument or singing never crossed your mind. 
“Why have you never told me about this,what do you sing?”
“I don’t sing a lot anymore. I used to sing lullabies for Silver and Malleus” You thought of Lilia holding Silver and singing to him,just the thought of it made your heart melt and without thinking you said. 
“I’d love to hear one,if that’s okay” 
“Sure” He sat down on your bed,patting his thighs “Come here,lay down” You laid down with your head on his thighs,just as he started singing his fingers made their way through your hair. You were barely a minute in as you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore,you quickly fell asleep. 
Azul
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“Why are you out here by yourself?” You turned to see Azul. 
“Just needed some air,not the biggest fan of parties” He sat down next to you on the railing,his hand resting on your lower back. 
“Careful,you wouldn't want to fall in”  You moved closer to him,he tightened his grip on you.
“Then you better hold me tight and make sure that doesn’t happen”
“Don’t worry,I won’t let you fall”
“This is better than the party” He laughed,kissing your forehead. 
“But it’s a bit cold. The dorm isn’t too far from here”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Jade
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“What’s the point of that wrap your holding,shouldn’t it be on your arm or something?”
“Oh this?” He held it up “ I’ll show you,hold out your arms” You did and in a split second he had your hands tied,using the reminder or the wrap to pull you to him. Lifting your chin with his other hand. “I was hoping you’d ask” He pulled you even closer,so you were chest to chest with him. Your faces are only inches apart. 
“Jade” He only responded with a ‘hmm’ making you even more flustered,but you couldn’t move back or look away because he was holding onto you tightly. 
“Something wrong?” He teased,smirking as he moved even closer to you. Leaning in utility you could feel his lips touch yours but he didn’t kiss you,he was just hovering there for a bit before he finally kissed you. 
He pulled away, licking his lips. He was still holding you,your hands still tied up. 
“Could you untie me now?” The second you asked,his facial expression turned more mischievous and you knew you had messed up.
“I don’t think I will,I like you like this” 
Floyd
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“Why are you staring at me like that?” Floyd did usually stare but this time his gaze was filled with affection,rather than his usual curiosity. 
“I just like looking at you” He moved closer to you,his knees still up and his hand still on his cheek.
“I like looking at you too” You both laughed before you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Surprisingly his cheeks reddened and his eyes darted away from you. You had never seen him flustered before,and he was really cute but you had a feeling it wouldn’t last long. And you were right,the moment you turned your head you felt him kiss you back. But when you looked back he was looking away from you. 
Jack
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“Good luck” You managed to give him a kiss before he ran off,and you quickly made your way back to your group of friends to cheer him on. You kept getting looks from a couple of the other Savanaclaw students,probably due to the face that you had Jack’s jacket draped over your shoulders.  The stares were something you had to get used to pretty quickly,and you learned how to ignore them,but you could still feel them. Despite that you kept cheering for your boyfriend,and he finished first. All the Savanaclaw students cheered for him,he was smiling and laughing as he looked through the crowd stopping when your eyes met. That’s when you quickly made your way over to him and he ran up to hug you too. Picking you up and spinning you around before kissing you. 
“You did so well” 
“Well there was no way I could lose when my lucky charm is here”
Leona
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“There you are,herbivore. You’ve certainly kept me waiting,now why don’t you come here” He patted his thigh,gesturing for you to come closer. The moment you were close enough he pulled you into his lap,he smirked as he leaned in. He kissed you,his arm wrapping around to pull you closer.  
“Should we really be here?”
“In the palace?” He seemed genuinely confused 
“No,the throne. I mean it belongs to your brother,should we really be doing this here?” He seemed disappointed at the mention of his brother,like he hated hearing you even bring him up. But behind that was sadness,sadness that you assumed that was because he felt insignificant compared to his brother and that he knew this throne would never belong to him. “Leona,” He sighed,not looking at you. It hurt and you realize that you messed up.
"You're right,we should leave” 
“No”
“No what? You just-”
“We should stay”  You kissed him before he could protest “Stay here” You pushed him until his back hit the chair. 
“H-Herbivore” He could barely get any words out with you kissing him repeatedly. “Herbivore” He tried again “Herbivore” and again “Y/N” you finally stopped. “Calm down,it’s not like I’m going anywhere”
Vil
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“Vil?”
“What,don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me” He smirked,showing off one of his fangs. His hair was slicked back, his costume was still purple but darker than usual the black lipstick,making him look intimidating.  
“You look great” You attempted to deflect,but it didn’t work. 
"Apparently so good you didn’t even recognize me” You attempted to change the subject.
“So a vampire huh. Is that your way of saying you’ll always be the fairest of them all” 
“Do you suggest there’s someone else worthy of that title?”
“Not at all,my queen” He seemed satisfied with your answer “Or should it be,my vampire queen?”
“I’d rather hear something else”
“Like what?”
“Like the sound you make when I sink my fangs into you”
“Aren’t those fake?” 
“Why don’t you feel them and find out?”  
Rook
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“Hello there trickster”  The sound of Rook’s greeting made you look up,only to find him in a tree staring down at you. 
“I’m scared to ask,but why are you in a tree?”
"Because I like looking at you from up here”
“Well,I’d prefer it if you’d join me down here” He jumped down,smiling at you.
“You’re right it’s better down here” 
“I told you so,and because you’re here I can do this” He was about to ask but you interrupted him by grabbing his face and kissing him. He leaned in further,pushing you against the tree as he pushed himself closer to you. Refusing to let go of you,he pushed you further. One of his hands moving to your thighs. Finally you managed to pull away from him. “Rook,someone could see us out here”
“I know a place we could go,where we can be alone. A place where I can have you all to myself”
Idia
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“You actually came,I’m really happy that you did” 
“Of course,how could I possibly say no”
“Really easily” He mumbled,you moved closer to him.
“It wouldn't be easy for me”
“So I-I,do you wanna dance?” His face was red and the tips of his hair were turning pink. 
“I’d love to” You felt his hands shaking on your back and in your own hand,you followed him and danced for a bit. Before you moved both his hands to your waist and yours to his shoulders. The blush on his face and the tips of his hair turning red,as you leaned closer to him. “You look beautiful in that suit”
“T-Thank you” Leaning in, you kissed his cheek. He really did look beautiful,his hair lighting the room along with the candles floating around the roof. There was something so special about being here,just the two of you. There was nothing more you wanted more right now than to kiss him,but you didn’t want to scare him off. Just leaning closer made him flustered,you couldn’t even imagine his reaction if you kissed him. “Y/N” His voice made you snap out of your thoughts.
“Yes?”
“Could I kiss you?” Was he thinking the same thing you did?
“Of course,you can.” You stopped dancing and closed your eyes and waited. His lips were cold but you quickly got used to them,despite the cold they were soft against yours. He pulled away and you opened your eyes,his entire face was red now. “Do you wanna do that again?” He nodded. “of course I want to,as many times as you’d like” 
546 notes · View notes
artists-ally · 5 months
Text
{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Lucien x Reader
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You all can go and blame @thelov3lybookworm for the swarm of Lucien content y'all are gonna get from me. This is probably one of the saddest things I've ever written and it took me wwaayy back to a very shitty relationship I was in so if it seem extra personal it is 💀 Enjoy, title from this song!
Word Count: 3,108
Warnings: ANGST (just for you @bubybubsters) mentions of murder (in relation to Jesminda)
Summary: Lucine has been so focused on trying to win over Elain that he's never once stopped to consider that you're the one who's always been there for him.
~~~~~
The door slammed. A breath sighed from the entryway. I went stiff. 
“I don’t understand,” Lucien shouted. I could hear him kicking off his boots, hanging his jacket up on the rack by the door. “I thought we were finally making some progress and then nothing. Absolutely nothing today.”
I remained silent, swiping off the stuck scallions on my knife. “Sorry.”
“I mean, I get that she needs time to adjust, but Cauldron, Yn. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended. I’ve been patient, more than patient, and it’s like I’ve never made an effort.”
“Told you it was a bad idea.”
“What is it about me that she cannot stand? What does Azriel offer her that I don’t? He walks in the room and she lights up. What do I have to do to get her to look at me like that?” I just shrugged, moving to the sink to wash some sprouts and potatoes. Lucien was caught in this never ending cycle of trying to win over Elain. For the past year, almost year and a half, he has been torturing himself with something that obviously won’t be. 
“Do you think she’d enjoy it if I took her to the Summer Court? Maybe she’d enjoy a trip to Dawn?” Lucien sat at my kitchen table, tapping his heel on my hardwood floor with his arms crossed over his chest. “We did actually talk for a while today. She ended up telling me her plans for her fall garden.”
“Sounds nice.”
“But I just wish she would open up a little more. Every time we talk it’s like I have to pry it out of her.” “Mhmm.”
“It makes me so nervous when she closes up like this. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. She won’t tell me. She won’t tell anyone, which is concerning. I just wish she would at least tell someone about what is going on. I’d even be okay if she told Azriel.”
“Yeah.”
“If only she would just reach out. Even an inch, just tug on the bond and acknowledge that it’s there. It wouldn’t bother me as much if she would just give us a chance.”
Lucien continued to blabber again, droning on and on about how Elain won’t do this or talk about that. I tuned him out, biting back the sting of jealousy in my throat. That familiar prickle in my nose forced me to grip the spoon harder. 
He never listened to me anymore. He’d come and ask me for advice, to see what my opinion was on what he should do, and then blatantly do the opposite. But every time he came back, I’d give him more. Just like he was stuck in a loop with Elain, I was just as guilty of the same with him. 
I was the one who had found him on the border after his Jesminda was murdered. I had been there to help him get settled, to get revenge on his brothers who forced him to watch. For decades I have been doing the same thing he has for Elain. 
The only difference is I know how to take a hint. Luciene doesn’t. 
“... and then when I asked if she would join me for a walk, she refused. I mean, she knows how important it is to get outside every now and then. She had said she wanted to garden and plant new seedlings for the upcoming winter but�� I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Yeah I bet that’s tough.”
“Tough?” So he did know how to acknowledge the things I said. “It’s excruciating. You have no idea. Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”
It took all the strength inside me to not hurl this knife at his head. “What’s the point anymore?”
“What?” “You don’t listen to anything I say anymore anyways, so why bother?” I snorted, shaking my head. “I could’ve announced my pregnancy right now and you would’ve been too lost in thought about her to even register.”
“You’re pregnant?” 
I slammed my knife down on the counter and whipped to face him. “No, I’m not. But if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why? We’re best friends, Yn. Don’t you think I’d wanna know if you were-”
“That is not the point of the conversation, Lucien,” I snapped. He just stared at me, waiting for an elaboration. I just sighed, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” “Did something happen today? You’re clearly in a bad mood.” “No. Absolutely nothing happened. Only that I had the grand opening of my restaurant today and you were nowhere to be found. You were with Elain.”
Lucien went silent. I could feel the energy shift from across the room. “Cauldron boil me… Yn I am so sorry. I thought that was next week, why didn’t you remind me yesterday?”
“I did,” I said. “I reminded you yesterday before you went up to the House to be with Elain. And the day before, and the day before that.”
“I think I would’ve remembered if-”
“Would you?” The tears were coming. Fast. It was a struggle to keep them from spilling over. “Because every time I’ve said anything, you’re talking about her. It’s always fucking her.”
“Why are you talking about Elain like that? What did she do to you?”
I just stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. The chill that spread through my bones should’ve been enough to kill me. I ground my teeth together hard enough to crack. “Ever since we came to this gods damned Court all you have talked about is her. It’s like I’m not even here anymore.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Lucien stood up. 
“When was the last time you asked how I was doing? If the designs for the menus are finished? If I’ve picked out new tiles for my bathing room or if I’ve finally finished that collage I was working on? How long has it been since we’ve been out together or gone diving in the Sidra? For fucks sake Lucien it’s like I’m best friends with a ghost.”
All Lucien offered was a turn of his palms, lips parting to answer but no words came out.
“Exactly. You can’t even remember. Any time we talk it’s always about her. It’s always Elain this and Elain that. I’m fucking sick of it, Lucien. You’re constantly asking for advice on what to do with her, but have you ever stopped and thought about what you’re doing?”
“Every day it haunts me that I can’t reach her, Yn,” Lucien's brows knit together. “I come to you because I value your advice.”
“Well you can stop. I don’t have any more to give. Now, you can either change the topic or get the fuck out because I’m sick of hearing about her. Today was supposed to be my day. I don’t ever ask you for anything, and this is the one thing I wanted. And you were supposed to be there for me, your friend, your best friend. But of course, the female who won’t give you the time of day has to take priority over someone you’ve known for almost a century.” 
“Are you so selfish that you can’t be happy for me for finding a mate after so many years? Are you that jealous that I’ve decided to spend some of my time with anyone else?”
Blinding red rage coursed through me. I let everything I had been holding back for months seep through. “How dare you say that to me.”
“Yn-”
“If you interrupt me I swear to the Mother that I will break your fucking neck.” I watched him swallow his response. “If you think I am unhappy with your bond then you don’t know me at all. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Lucien. But I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me sick to my stomach.”
“Elain is sweet. Nurturing and caring,” Lucien pointed out. "What's so bad about that?"
“Does she know anything about you?”
 “We’ve… talked about some things.”
“So does she know about your brothers?” His face paled. “Does she know about all the fights you got in with Tamlin? Does she know about Jesminda or how many years it took you to be able to hear her name and not burst into tears at the first syllable?”
“That’s not fair.”
“I think it’s perfectly fair, Lucien,” I shouted. My skin was blisteringly hot. All control was quickly crumbling. “The moment Elain came along, you forgot all about me. I am the only living being that has been there with you through everything. Through the destruction of the Spring Court, through Hybern. You begged me to come with you to Velaris, I gave up everything for you.”
“You wanted to leave, too. Don’t put all this on me,” Lucien said, waving his arms in the air. 
“I did it because of you. How dense are you, Lucien? How blind are you to not see that every decision I have made since I met you has been for your well being?”
“I never asked that of you.”
“No, you didn’t. Because you’ve never once considered that I would do it without a second thought. I care about you. I was the one you wept to every time Elain rejected you, and yet, every single time you ran right back to her. I don’t know what you see in her. I think she has made it incredibly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about us.” Lucien’s eyes went dark, his mouth pressed in a flat line, nostrils flared. 
I scoffed. A harsh, bitter laugh falling from my lips. “Did you seriously just say that to me? All I do is listen to you complain about her and how she doesn’t open up. About how closed off she is. For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, you had the balls to come here after opening day, after blowing me off, to talk about her. Want some advice? Take a nice long look in the mirror.”
“Why can you just not accept the fact that I might want to have a relationship with her? Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“Because what does she have that I don’t? What is it about her that you could possibly like more than me? Cauldron damn me, Lucien, we live together. I cook for you every day, we have breakfast and tea together.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucien furrows his brows together.
I could feel my heart start to splinter into however many pieces to double the amount of stars in the sky. All the love and contained affection I’ve had since I met Lucien has washed away in a moment. All those heart to hearts, all those late nights spent atop the House of Wind… all for nothing.
“You’re right,” I nodded, letting several tears run down my cheeks. “It means nothing. I have no reason to be mad at you for simply wanting to find love.”
Lucien sighed, a heavy, grueling noise. “Yn-”
“You know, everyone from back home kept saying that I was making a mistake, that I shouldn’t run off here with you. I think they’re right. This was all a mistake. I should’ve left you to rot on the side of the border.”
Color flushed his face and neck. Silence cursed us and I could only hear my occasional sniffle and the rapid beating of my heart. 
“Tell me this, Lucien. Do her eyes look better when they shine?”
“What? Yn why are you-”
“Does she look prettier when she cries? Am I just too much to handle or-or too emotionally unstable?”
“You’re not too much, Yn. You’re perfect the way you are,” he shook his head, taking my hands in his. I rip them away.
“Then gods dammit Lucien, what is it about her that you love so much more than me?” I screamed.
He is stunned and silent. His mouth opens and closes. No words are coming out. My chest feels like it’s going to cave in any second. 
“Yn… what are you talking about? Are you in love with me?” That flicker deep within my chest erupts into a thousand colors. I bite my lips to keep from crying out. “You are… aren’t you?”
I just shake my head. “I asked you a question first.”
“No, you can’t do this to me, that's not fair.”
“Who gives a fuck what is fair, Lucien? You have discarded me to the side like I was nothing. Did you forget that I was the one who sacrificed her life for you? What has Elain done for you? Nothing. She has done nothing but distract you from the important things in your life.”
“Like you?” Lucien said with an equal amount of venom in his voice. “You are so selfish.”
“You want me to admit it?” I snarled, my face inches from his. “Fine, I’m jealous. I am so jealous that you look at her like she hung the moon and at me like I mean nothing to you. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing you happy with her, wishing and praying to every god that it was me.”
Lucien just stands still. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Yn.”
“That you love me too!” I shout, pacing around. “You’re telling me that Elain, someone who refuses to give you anything but a cold shoulder, is going to get all the love and affection I so treacherously built back into you after Jesminda? Did you ever stop and think for one moment that there could be you and I? Tell me how the fuck that makes sense.”
“Yes, you took care of me, and I will be eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me. I can’t ever repay you for giving life back to me. But I can’t… I can’t force myself to love you, Yn. I just can’t.”
My body felt like it was on fire. And not the kind of blaze I got when I looked into his eyes. It felt like the bond I had carefully hidden for years was finally unbraiding inside my soul. But when my eyes did meet his… nothing. No burst of excitement or sense of relief. 
I felt utterly nothing as I looked at the man that has been in every single moment of my life for the past sixty years. 
“Please say something,” Lucien begged. 
I couldn’t. Not with this world obliterating feeling inside my chest. I could only stare at the floor. 
“Yn… Yn please don’t let this ruin what we have.”
“It was ruined the moment you walked in that door.” My voice was meek. 
I could see Lucien shake his head, but his features became a blurry whirlwind behind my tears. “Yn I’m begging you I’ll-”
“Get out.”
“No,” Lucien's voice cracked. “No, I'm not going to leave.” He came and grabbed my shoulders, trying to make me look at him.
“Leave, right now, or I’ll get someone who will.” I'll call for Azriel. That will really make his skin blister. He instantly let go. “I want all traces of you gone by tomorrow night.”
“You can’t do this to me. To us.”
“It’s clear you’ve made your decision on where your priorities lie. I refuse to be second place to you anymore.”
“You have never been second place to me, Yn. Never. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t valued. But I can’t love you. I’m not in love with you.”
“And that is why you have to go. Take care Lucien, I hope she was worth it.”
I don’t bother to show him to the door. He knows where it is. I don’t offer him any other farewells. He doesn’t deserve my good luck. Instead I return to my pots and pans, staring painfully at them. I have no choice but to force him away.
It might just kill me, this ache in my body. It might just engulf me and swallow me into the earth, back to wherever I came from and give me another shot. Hopefully the next one I’ll actually get what I deserve. 
As I stare at the meal before me, it’s like I’m looking at a fresh batch of pure despair. It brings me nothing but painful reminders of years ago back in the Spring Court. Where it was just the two of us. There was no Night Court, there was no emissary duty, there was no Feyre or Nesta or Elain. 
Just me and my Lucien. 
And now there was just me. 
I have to do something. Distantly I hear the door click shut, it’s groan signaling Lucien’s vacancy. As hard as I can, I throw a wooden spoon towards it. It’s gratifying, but it doesn’t dull the ancient pain inside. I throw another. And another. And another. Until there are no more wooden spoons left, and they have been fated to splinters. 
I began to throw away the food I was preparing. A pot full of potato and cheese soup goes first. The lamb in the oven goes next. Then the sweet cherry pie next to it. I stash away the cups and silverware, nearly shattering them in the process.
This was supposed to be a celebration. Of all the hard work I have put into my restaurant over the last several years. It was opening night, the line was a mile long. Even Rhys and Feyre were there to congratulate me.
But not the one person I wanted most. 
This dinner. This fucking dinner. It was his favorite. Though I suppose it still is. Something I made him when he was upset. But instead of settling my stomach, it made it wretch.
I should send the recipe to Elain, but change one ingredient. Replace the chives with cilantro. He hates cilantro. I know so much about him, he knows so much about me. 
Why… just why couldn’t it have worked?
I’ll never get to see him smile again. Or cry. I’ll never get to hear his laugh. Or braid his hair when he’s sick. I’ll never get to feel his arms around me or hear the sound of him coming in the door. If I’m not gone when he gets all his stuff tomorrow, I just might ask him to stay. 
I deserve better. Someone who will look at me like I’ve hung the moon. Who will pursue me the way Lucien pursues Elain. I deserve unconditional. 
I wish I could still deserve him.
~~~~~~~~~
Part 2
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Note
We can have Andrew and Ashley (separately) dating reader who is a singer/guitarist in a Punk rock band, who has a somewhat cynical, indifferent personality but is quite kind when you get to know her.
But there is a problem, she is possessed by a demon and needs to kill or drink human blood to survive (just like that movie Jennifer Body feat. Megan Fox)
Friggin love Jennifer’s Body- hell yeah anon!
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Ashley and Andrew Graves x Possessed Punk Rock!Reader
Andrew Graves
You met Andrew after he went to watch your band play. He came up to you after the show and started up a conversation with you.
You were the best part of the band in his personal opinion
You’d heard this all before, and like always you went along to get on his good graces
Honestly- you had full intention of eating him until he started some playful banter with you
You both just bounced off of each other so well
“Alright, so- it’s the zombie apocalypse and you have to team up with 2 other people at this bar.” Andrew was leaning against the bar, he phrased it like such a serious question, “Who you picking?”
“Hmmmm…” you hummed, turning your attention to the cluster of people, “Probably that guy-“ you nod towards one muscly frat dude chatting with his equally muscular friends, “He looks like he could punch some zombies. Dumb and fearless, ya know?”
Andrew chuckled, “Ahhh, so you’re into beefy dudes, huh?”
You gave him a deadpan stare before rolling your eyes and smirking a little, “Nah, if anything he’d be a sacrifice to the undead horde. I’m more into sickly looking emo dudes.”
A small blush painted Andrew’s cheeks, he turned to look at the crowd, “Soooo- does that mean I’m on your apocalypse team?”
“Not in the slightest,” you leant back on the bar stool, “It’s about survival, and no offense hun- but you’re usually the first to die in those kinds of movies.”
Andrew dramatically clutched his chest, giving a faux harmed expression. You playfully shove him to wipe the look off his face. He laughed a little as he sat back up in his stool.
“Alright, alright-“ you wave your hand towards him, “You can join my apocalypse team. We’ll team up to sacrifice the big dude.”
“You’re too kind.”
He was fun to talk to, what can ya say?
You ended up feasting on that frat bro after Andrew left- but not without giving you his number
You two hung out a bit after that- and Andrew became a regular at your shows
You even started inviting him to rehearsals to sit and watch
You make him a shirt with the band’s name on it as a joke- but he wears it constantly.
He’s a dork, but soon enough…he becomes your dork <3
Which is why you were nervous to tell him the truth about you
“….I’m sorry you’re what?”
You winced at his words. There- was no easy way of telling him this, but- you don’t know. It feels like the right thing to inform your partner you’re actually possessed by a demon and crave human flesh and blood.
“I’m possessed by a demon,” You turn away from his, rubbing your arm anxiously, “It- happened when I was 17. Some fucks tried to offer me as a sacrifice to a demon to make them famous and- well, now we know the reason virgins are sacrificed for demon deals.”
Andrew blinked, and a silence fell between you two. He turned away from you, his eyes fixed on the ground,
“….you know my sister is friends with a demon.”
You scrunched up your nose in confusion, turning to give him a look of “What the fuck?”
He held his hands up defensively, “Hey I don’t know! What else was I supposed to say?!”
“I don’t know!” You threw a throw pillow at him, “You’re the first person I’ve told!”
Andrew caught the pillow, placing it gingerly on his lap, “Well- I’m not a stranger to this whole…demon stuff. Can’t say I’ve dated one though…”
Your eyes widened. You looked at him in disbelief, “You- still want to date me?”
“Well- yeah.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t obvious, “You’re not gonna eat me- I’d assume at least.”
“Nah,” you gave him a small smirk, “Not enough meat on ya.”
You received a pillow to the face in response to that. You broke out into soft laughter, Andrew shortly joining in. This…went better than you thought it would.
From then on Andrew helped you with finding food. He’d scan for potential meals at your shows and direct you to them after.
He seems way too experienced in this sort of thing
Ashley Graves
That relatable moment when you’re about to feast on this guy, but this cute goth chick was about to sacrifice him to a whole other demon <3
After a show you had planned on following this couple and devouring them both- you were really hungry
Low and behold- the girl led her date into the woods and summoned a whole ass demon to take his soul
She noticed your presence as she was getting ready to move the body and-
“….sup.”
She said that as if trying to move the soulless body of a grown ass man in the middle of the woods was the most normal thing in the world. You were- dumbfounded honestly. Apparently you were staring for too long, as the woman dropped the corpse’s arms and crossed her own,
“You gonna scream- or are we going to be chill about this?” She tapped her foot as she glared at you, “Don’t make me offer another soul to my friend.”
“Ha! Good luck with that-“ you stepped out of the bushes, shaking off any leaves that stuck to your pants, “Your friend would just be confused why you’re offering them their own kind.”
She looked you up and down, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Yeah- look. I’m possessed- and I was following you and that boy toy of yours to have some dinner.” You pointed to the corpse between you two, “So I’ll do you a favor and get rid of this body for you.”
The woman rubbed her chin, looking down at the body. She then grinned deviously, “Hmmm…you mind if I join you?”
Your eyes widened. Was- she being serious? Did she want to chow down on this guy with you?
Apparently she could notice your confusion and shrugged, “Well I was going to eat him anyway. Was thinking of grilling him- some salt, oregano, paprika as seasoning. Help me carry him and you’ve got yourself a 5 star meal.”
This has to be the most insane woman you’ve ever met. Is this what love feels like?
“Sure thing-“ you reach down, hoisting the man’s arm around your shoulder, “Names Y/N.”
“Ashley Graves.” Ashley made no effort to help you carry the body, just leading you along as your struggled.
And thus started a beautiful friendship!
Ashley sacrifices a soul, you two eat the soulless body. Win-Win!
As you hang out more outside of your hunts, Ashley learns about your band
She’s not happy that you have friends outside of her, but she goes to your show anyway
She claimed that everyone sucked except for you
“We should just eat them,” Ashley suggested, her chin rested on your shoulder.
You glance at her before speaking, “No can do- I’m not eating my band mates.”
“Fine-“ she huffed, shoving you away from her, “Then I will!”
“Ashley- No-“ you groan, turning around to look at the currently pouting woman, “Look, I have a life outside of you ya know- don’t like it, don’t come to the shows. Nothing wrong with keeping things professional between us.”
Ashley went quiet at that. She hugged herself, turning away from you.
“…what if I don’t want to be professional?” She muttered, just loud enough for you to catch.
You blinked down at her, “You- what?”
“We get each other! I want to keep doing this, and I don’t want those ‘bandmates’ getting in the way.” She glared up at you, “You…You like me too, right?”
You did. You’d be lying if you didn’t find her general unhinged-ness hot, but you couldn’t kill your band.
“Hey, look-“ your voice went soft as you took Ashley’s hands into your own, “I…like you too Ashley, but we’re not eating my band. If I’ve been ignoring you for them, I’ll- cancel rehearsal tomorrow so we can go do something. Just us. Sound good?”
A small smile formed on Ashley’s face as she nodded, “Yeah…that’d be great.”
You may be the possessed one here, but Ashley Graves is a whole other level
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month
Text
the pained peace treaty
fused with the foe, chapter one
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a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.
summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury
word count: 4813
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”
“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”
A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”
Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”
“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”
“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”
Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”
“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 
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Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 
Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 
As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 
You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 
A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 
“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 
Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”
Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”
“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”
When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”
“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”
“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”
“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”
You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”
Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”
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“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 
Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”
“Yes, your highness?”
“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”
“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”
As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 
Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 
Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 
Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 
“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.
“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 
“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”
“What did you expect?”
Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 
Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 
The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 
Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”
“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.
“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”
Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”
He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 
Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 
Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 
Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 
“Hey, Barnes?”
Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”
“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”
“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”
“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”
“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 
Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”
Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”
Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 
“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 
“Of course, your highness.” 
“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”
Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”
“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”
“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”
“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.
Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”
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With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 
A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 
You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 
The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 
The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 
Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 
“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 
Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 
And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.
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The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 
As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 
When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 
“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 
Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 
“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”
A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”
It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 
Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 
The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 
But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 
The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 
“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 
“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 
Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 
“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 
When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.
First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”
Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 
His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 
“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”
“Oh…” was all he breathed. 
“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 
“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”
“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 
A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”
Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”
Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 
Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
342 notes · View notes
dizscreams · 1 year
Text
Show Off — Jack Champion ★
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PAIRING: Jack Champion x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Jack showing off ur matching necklaces during an instagram live
A/N: “honestly i know u had a thought abt the instagram live one and i feel like with him you could do a lot with answering questions and then him going over to readers dresser and showing the necklace and maybe some fluff when reader comes back?” A LITTLE COLLAB FROM ME AND @ang3lik <33 I KNOW I HAD SAID INTERVIEW WHEN I CAME UP WITH THE IDEA so I hope you guys don’t mind that I switched it to a instagram live! I just couldn’t think of a way to start the interview idea I’m sorry :(
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He toyed with the initial of your first name on the gold chain he wore around his neck while thinking of what to do. You weren’t at home with him, you were at work which he was very bummed out about. Luckily being in your room comforted him as he waited for you to arrive home.
He wasn’t snooping around or anything he just missed you and your bed was comfortable. Plus the room smelt like you and he liked admiring all the posters and decorations you had in your room.
He looked at the clock, it hadn’t changed from when he looked at it just 30 seconds ago. He groaned and kept scrolling through Instagram pretty bored out of his mind and not really paying attention to his feed. After thinking of what he could do he decided it might be a fun idea to go live. Why not? He’d never done one of his own before, well he’s never done one now that he’s gained popularity.
He made sure he looked presentable and looked at the ‘Go Live’ button. He wasn’t sure what he’d do, probably just talk to fans and hope it wasn’t boring. He had a feeling they’d eat it up though. Lately, it seemed he could breathe and everyone would go wild. It amused him to be completely honest.
He propped up his phone and sat against the headboard of your bed and pressed ‘Go Live’.
Once it started he awkwardly played with his hands waiting for people to join. It didn’t take long, in about 2-3 minutes there was already a bunch of people flooding the chat with ‘hi’s’ and ‘love you’s’ and a bunch of questions. They weren’t anything specific just about him and his job, he was grateful they weren’t too invasive.
user97027: hii jack! are you working on any new films right now??
He saw the comment as it quickly flashed by, “Yeah I am actually, I’ve been working on Freaky Tales and Everything’s Going to Be Great. So yeah, I’m excited for you guys to see those,” he said with a soft smile across his face.
user88992: did you always want to be an actor?
“Uh, it wasn’t really planned,” he chuckled, “just the day I found out you could get paid for acting and it was a legitimate job I was immediately on board,” he talked with his hands as he answered the question. He leaned forward with his eyes squinted a bit, trying to find another question.
user561183: Jack!! Who would you say inspires you the most?
“Oh man that’s a good question, who inspires me the most,” he repeated the question as he put his chin in his palm and lightly tapped his fingers across his cheek as he thought of a good answer. “I’d have to say my castmastes and my family definitely. Oh! And my girlfriend, of course. They’re all very supportive of me.”
He slightly laughed as a bunch of “awe’s” ran through the chat. He scanned through the chat, almost getting a little bored cause of how awkward he felt. It wasn’t uncomfortable for him he just wasn’t used to this but he liked talking with his followers nonetheless. As he was about to come up with an excuse to log off he saw a question that made his eyes light up.
user336473: what’s the initial on your necklace stand for?
He wasted no time in answering, “The initial on my necklace is my girlfriend’s! She actually has a matching one but it has my initial instead. I could probably show you guys, one second. She didn’t take it to work today” He explained as he got up, taking his phone with him, and excitedly waddled over to your vanity. Jack propped his phone on a little stand up mirror you had and gently took the piece of jewelry and held it up. “Isn’t it cute? I got these for us on our 6 month anniversary,” he told his viewers as he proudly smiled.
A knock on your door made him quip his head towards the entrance of your room, “Jack, you in there?” He looked at his camera whisper shouting a little “She’s backk! Hold on,” he then looked back at the door, “Come in!” he yelled.
Once he saw your figure opening the door a lovey smile adorned his face. He was head over heels for you and made no effort to hide it. “Oh hey babe, I was just showing them our matching necklaces.”
“Them?” You asked raising an eyebrow.
“Mhm, I’m on instagram live,” he softly grabbed your hand giving it a chaste kiss before bringing you in front of the camera. “Guys this is y/n my girlfriend, y/n these are my instagram followers,” he introduced with a goofy smile as he wrapped his hands around your waist and gave the back of your head a kiss.
You looked at the chat, which was gushing with comments about how cute you two were. It made you smile as you remember what he told you when you came in, “Wait, you were showing them our necklaces?”
“Yeah! Someone asked about it and I think I started rambling,” Jack explained as he toyed with the chain that was still in his hands suddenly getting an idea, “Can I put it on you?” He whispered into your hair so only you could hear. You nodded at his question not being able to contain the shy smile on your face as he let go of your waist and put your hair to rest on your left shoulder, giving you goosebumps. Once he made sure none of your hair would be in the way he undid the necklace and slowly put it around your neck. He made sure it was centered properly and closed the clasp, “Perfect,” he said as he gave a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“You’re such a show off, Jack,” you laughed at his shocked expression as he put a hand on his heart with a small scoff, “What?! Can you blame me for wanting to show you off? Look at you!” He told you as his signature goofy smile reappeared on his face causing you to laugh more. “No I guess not,” you smirked as you gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, causing him to get a little flustered. To be honest you both kinda forgot you were live, you were too busy wrapped up in each other, until Butters entered the room meowing so loud you and Jack snapped out of your love sick gazes and turned to him.
“Aw, what is it, Butters?” Jack asked as he went over and picked the cat up and cradled him like he was his baby, technically he was. Butters only answered with another meow causing you to pet him on the head, “I think he’s hungry,” you looked up at Jack. Another meow followed.
“Alright, I hear you Butters,” he turned back to the camera where he saw the chat freaking out about the adorable moment you two just shared, “We have to go but thank you all for joining. Byeee!” He disconnected the live and quickly put Butters down.
You looked up at him confused but didn’t get to say a word before Jack was kissing your lips. You kissed back and pulled away after a few moments. “What was that for?”
He shrugged, “I dunno, I’ve just been wanting to do it all day,” he said as he smirked. As he was leaning in for another, his movements got cut off by another loud meow from Butters. Jack groaned as he put his head on your shoulder and you laughed as you lifted his head up and slightly pushed Jack’s curls from out of his eyes before you kissed his forehead, “C’mon lets go,” You grabbed his hand and you followed Butters into the kitchen.
He had a lazy smile on his face with hearts in his eyes. This man was so whipped for you.
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HOPE YOU ENJOYED! I love this sm <33
tags: @ashlesys-blog @wekiamo @dizzyscreams
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