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WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, smut, fingering- f receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, marriage, Sejanus thinks both Coryo & Reader are Delulu

Chapter 6:

Private Snow and Private Plinth were on factory watch duty this afternoon. They're stuck on the loom floor of the Peacekeepers’ Uniform Factory, standing guard to make sure that none of the sweatshop workers takes an early break, skips off before the end of shift, or to prevent any ruckus from starting and spreading. They both hated factory watch duty, but right now Coriolanus loathed it because he was stuck overlooking that ratty whore who thought that she could just swoop on in, after abandoning you to die, and steal you away from him.

Ugh, Ashlie. How he hated her.

Stupid district whore.

And then Coriolanus couldn't help, but, to find it ironic that he only now got assigned watch duty in the uniform factory that you were once employed at (he takes care of you now so you're never working in this shithole again). That all the other times he was on watch duty with Sejanus they were always assigned to one of the fabric factories or fashion warehouses on the other side of the district.

Sejanus noticed how his best friend and brother in arms seemed to be extremely happy today. He's never seen the stoic blonde so overjoyed before; it was, quite frankly, concerning him.

But before Sejanus could ask why his best friend's in such a good mood, the platinum blonde turned to him with a smile so wide that it was a bit frightening. Coryo's voice, that was usually so elongated, seemed to be a light and airy baritone as he announced, “Sejanus, I need you to come home with me tomorrow night. Y/N and I’s getting married in the District 8 traditional style and need you to perform the ceremony.”

“What?” Sejanus blinked in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Just to clear the air, he asked, “You and Y/N’s having a handfasting tomorrow night and want me to conduct it?”

“Is a handfasting what the marriage ceremony’s called here in 8?” Coriolanus asked instead of saying yes or no.

Clearly, the platinum blonde peacekeeper doesn't have a firm grip on life in the districts despite shacking up with a district girl. Oh boy, Sejanus doesn't want to deal with this right now. And isn't Coryo supposed to be the level headed one between them?

Oh, yea…

That's right, when it comes to pretty district girls and love, all logic goes out the window where Coriolanus is concerned. He makes brash decisions and thinks with his wrong head.

The teddy bear of a man, cursed to wear peacekeeper denim fatigues for the next 2 decades, nodded. “Yes, Coryo. That's what it's called.”

“Then yes, we're having a handfasting tomorrow night after work; I’ll be bringing you home with me to make sure it's legal.”

“Um…” Sejanus bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of the right thing to say to his friend about his upcoming wedding. Something he thinks Coriolanus is going into too quickly and blindly. “Coryo, brother, I know you love your girl, but don't you think that maybe this handfasting’s a bit rushed?”

Coryo narrowed his icy eyes at his comrade, making them look like hardened steel. “No, I don't see how it's rushed, Sej.” Was the tall blonde's sharp reply.

“It's just, I dunno, Coryo-” Sejanus sighed, shaking his head. “Just that you two haven't really been together that long.”

“We live together, Sejanus. We've been together long enough to make that commitment; to get married too.”

If Sejanus only knew that Coriolanus' remark of long enough really meant since your whipping, well, he'd be stroking out and probably trying to get his bestie some mental help.

“Privates in the Peacekeepers aren't allowed to marry until their 20 years are up.” Sejanus pointed out as a last ditch effort to get his best friend to rethink or even cancel his handfasting.

Sejanus thinks Coryo's moving too fast with you. He's just trying to look out for his friend. Having a girlfriend’s one thing, but a wife's different. Divorce is outlawed and banned in the country of Panem; Coryo and you will be stuck together forever. Sej just doesn't want his friend to have regrets later on about a hasty marriage.

“Good thing I’m not staying Private Snow for long then, isn't it?” Coriolanus asked rhetorically, only to follow it up with a confident, “After taking that Elite Officer's Exam I estimate that I'll be shipped out for training right after the New Year.”

“You can still bring her with you, Officers can have their girlfriends with them.”

How dare that district Plinth dog tell him not to marry you? Who the hell does he think he is, telling Coryo to just keep living with you as his girl. Coryo promised to take care of you, to get you out of the districts, and above all he swore to marry you.

Coriolanus knows that he's a slithering snake tongued liar to people, but not to you. Your relationship is built on honesty, an integrity that he shares with you and only you. So, when he promises you something it's with the intention of fulfilling it. And he's going to fulfill his oath to marry you, no matter if he has to hogtie Sejanus and drag him home to your apartment to do it.

“I'm bringing her with me as my wife, Sej. So just shut up and come perform my district 8 ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Too bad we're not in 2. All you'd have to do is just exchange gold coins.” The broad Bones, dark haired peacekeeper half-chuckled.

Looks like he's stuck performing his best friend's handfasting tomorrow whether he wants to or not.

“So, you'll do it? Marry us?” Coryo asked, looking hopeful as the sound of looms being operated loudly sounded out in the air.

Against Sejanus' better judgement, he gave his friend a tentative smile and said, “Yes, Coryo, I'll do it.”

It was the least Sejanus could do. After all, Coryo stood by him during the 10th Hunger Games when he was doing some radical things that could've gotten him- them- killed. Coryo didn't agree with everything that Sej did, but he still stood by his side. They're best friends, brothers, and it's time for Sejanus to return the favor. He'll stand by the platinum peacekeeper’s side, as a brother should, even if he doesn't agree with him.

The food’s on the stove, done and waiting for Coryo to come home. You know that he's at the market, buying you some blue material to make your wedding dress with, so you're not concerned that he's not home at his usual time. Between work and the market, you imagine that his day’s a bit busy.

And you can always reheat the food real quick if it's cold when he does get home. You don't mind. You're just happy to have enough food in the house to be able to cook meals. Real meals, not some slop from stale oats or something.

You're grateful for Coryo and how he takes care of you despite the fact that he's the reason you still have at least a couple more weeks to heal from your whipping. At least a good thing came out of that bad, scary experience. You met Coryo and he, for some reason beyond your comprehension, decided to undertake your caretaking. He decided to make you his girl.

And tomorrow night he'll make you his wife.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open followed by heavy bootsteps entering the one-room apartment. You turn your attention from the book you're reading and onto the tall blonde that just walked thru the door. You smile, seeing that he has a paper bag in his hand.

You get up to greet him by the door as he closes it. “So, you got the blue material.” You state, not ask, as you reach his side.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded, handing you over the paper bag. “I also got us a long, thick red ribbon for the handfasting.” He added in, taking off his coat and hanging it up. “Sejanus says that the ceremony's called a handfasting-” Your fiance began, taking off his boots, only for you to interrupt him with a one word question.

“Red?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“It's my favorite color.” Coryo explained before gesturing to the bag and urging, “Open it, baby, and see what I got you for your dress.”

The platinum blonde wore a proud smile on his face as you obliged him. First, you took the red ribbon out of the bag. It was blood red.

Oh boy…

Still clutching the ribbon, you took out a few yards of folded up material. It was simple and made out of cotton, but the shade was beautiful. It was cerulean and it matches Coryo's icy eyes perfectly. It was literally the same shade of blue as his eyes. The material enchanted you in a way.

“Do you like it?” Coryo asked, placing a hand on your shoulder and tilting his head slightly.

He prayed that you liked it. Coryo felt that the other blue fabrics in the cheap market stall he went to were either too dark or drap for you. He wanted his wife to have the best. To have a beautiful blue fabric for her dress.

You only get married once; he thinks you deserve the best despite the ceremony being district.

Nodding, you weakly smile, “It matches your eyes.”

“Yea?” He lightly chuckles. Honestly, he didn't even notice that the material’s the same blue as his eyes. But now he knows it is; he assumes you like it too.

“Yea.” You confirm with a nod. “Putting the material and ribbon back into the bag, you give him a hug. “Thank you, I love it.” You smile into his chest.

All Coryo can do is wrap an arm around you and caress your hair softly with his long fingers. “I have my parents' wedding rings in my bag, would you mind exchanging them before our hand binding?” He asked, hopeful that you'd say yes.

Lifting your head up, your eyes met his cerulean blue ones, as you told him, “I'd be honored to wear your mother's ring, Coryo, but you're not an officer yet; you're not allowed to wear a ring.”

“I'll wear it around my chain with my dog tags til I pass my exam.”

“Okay.”

Threading his fingers into your hair, he sadly smiles, “I have a few family photos in my bag too. Perhaps we can put them up?”

“Of course, Coryo.” You smile, assuring him that you're fine with him decorating your meager one-room apartment with his family photos.

In fact you're more than fine with it. Him wanting to display his pictures of loved ones makes him human. Not just a mindless, Capitol born and bred peacekeeper that you're stuck with, but an actual human capable of feelings.

Capable of love, despite his condescending attitude at times.

You worked all day Thursday sewing a simple dress. You weren't a professional seamstress by any means, but you've been living in 8 long enough to pick up a thing or two. You could sew good enough to get by. You could also make simple patterns for simple dresses.

The only thing that was a pain in the ass was the fact that you had to sew your dress by hand. Thank the gods that Coryo had bought you light blue thread to match the material for your dress because the only blue thread you had in your sewing kit was navy.

Also, you noticed that your red thread was almost out, that it was wrapped thinly around the bobbin. You have an idea as to why it's nearly gone. You think that Coryo used it to stitch up the deep lacerations on your back.

He did tell you last night that red's his favorite color.

You spent practically all day huddled over your kitchen table, sewing your cerulean dress by hand. Since it was winter the sleeves were long and your skirt was knee length. It was a simple design, but when the dress was done you felt proud of it. You just hope that Coryo likes it.

You had enough scrap material left over to make a hairbow with. You decided that you're going to pull your hair back with a big, blue bow for your wedding. Yes, it's just going to be a very simple District 8 handfasting and reception dinner, but you still want to look pretty.

It's only natural. Every girl wants to look pretty on their wedding day.

So, after finishing both your dress and hair bow, you cook up a couple of dishes and bake an apple pie for dessert. You finished cooking with just enough time to get dressed before the groom and the best man arrive home.

You're standing in front of the family photos that Coryo set up on the bedside table last night. You can't help, but to think that he was a cute little boy with his curls as you stare at the family picture of him, his mom, and his dad. Coryo looks just like his father, General Crassus Snow, except that his father's eyes seemed cold and stern while Coryo's eyes were more mischievous. Or at least they were in your option.

His mother, Demeter, was very pretty. In the photo of Demeter holding a baby Coryo in a rose garden, you could see that he had inherited her smile. It was the only thing he inherited from her, looks wise. And in the picture his mother was wearing the orange scarf that he had given you. The scarf that matches your sweater perfectly.

There was a picture of his Grandma’am sitting regally amongst some roses and a picture of a young blonde girl that you knew had to be his cousin, Tigris. She definitely had the prominent Snow noses, but a tender softhearted smile.

After seeing a picture of Tigris, you're shocked that she lied to Coryo about something so important. You also feel bad for Grandma'am, she seems like such a high class lady and to lose everything and end up in hospice due to not having the will to love's horrible.

And on the table, in front of all the small framed photographs, was the wedding rings that belonged to Coryo's parents. One band was a simple gold one while the other was gold with a radiant square cut diamond. The diamond wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small either. It was just right and gave off a timeless, classic style.

“Baby, we're home.” You hear Coryo call out mixed with the sound of the door opening.

Sejanus followed his best friend into the apartment, secretly dreading having to marry you and Coryo. But he couldn't help, but smile whenever his friend gasped up on seeing you in your simple blue wedding dress and matching hair bow. It was clear to him that Coryo was in love just by how his face lit up at the sight of you.

“Darling, you look so beautiful.” Your soon to be husband declared while joining you by the bedside table.

“Thank you, honey.” You responded, feeling elated that he likes your outfit.

“Honey?” He asked, a brow raised in amusement.

“It just slipped out.” You sheepishly replied.

“It's fine; I'll let it slide, Mrs. Snow.” Coryo told you, his voice a slight bit husky, as he strokes your cheek softly with his calloused thumb.

Clearing his throat, because the sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife and was making him feel uncomfortable, Sejanus asked, “Um, Coryo, do you want to start the ceremony?”

“Yea, just stand over there and we'll join you.” The platinum peacekeeper told his comrade, pointing to the spot he wanted him in.

Sejanus just nodded and went to stand where Coriolanus wanted him to. Coryo grabbed the rings and the red ribbon off the bedside table before escorting you over to Sej, the makeshift officiant for the wedding.

“We're going to exchange rings, like in the Capitol, then you can bind our hands.” Coryo told his dark haired friend while handing him over the ribbon for the hand binding.

Of course, Coriolanus Snow had to implement some kind of Capitol tradition in a district ceremony. Sejanus wouldn't expect anything less from his friend.

“Okay.” Nodded the aspiring medic with a heart of gold. Hey, what else was he supposed to do? If Coryo wanted to exchange rings then so be it.

Coryo handed you over his father's ring, now his, and kept his mother's ring, now yours. He just smiled and held the ring to your fingertip, causing you to do the same. Silently, you both slide the rings on each other's fingers before holding hands.

“I'm from District 2 and was raised in the Capitol for the past decade, so I'm not too well versed in handfasting.” Sejanus tells you while starting to wrap the long red ribbon around you and Coryo's entwined hands.

Looking over at Sejanus, you tell him, “I'm originally from 12, so all I know about this ceremony is what I've heard.”

“They do a toasting where she's from, but we don't have a fireplace so we had to settle with the handfasting.” Coryo added in, shrugging at his friend.

“Ah.” Sejanus slowly nodded as alarm bells went off in his head. Of course you're from 12. It seems like Coryo has a type and it's basically pretty girl from District 12. Now, he can't help, but worry that his platinum blonde friend is going full steam ahead with you so quickly because of your district of origin.

“You can exchange your words now.” Sejanus prompts, knowing that words are said in a handfasting once the ribbon is wrapped around the clasped hands of the couple.

“You first, Y/N.” Coryo smiles, only to quickly add in, “Women always say their vows first in the Capitol.”

Sejanus wanted to cringe. Coriolanus just has to bring up Capitol wedding traditions, again. For marrying a district girl he's really trying to incorporate as many Capitol things as he can. Or at least Sejanus thinks so.

It bothered Sejanus more than it did you. Coryo talking about Capitol wedding traditions. You didn't mind, he was from there after all.

“Okay.” You nodded before smiling and telling your husband a quote from the tragic Pre-Panem love story he's been reading to you- Wuthering Heights.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

You're bound to him forever now, so you decided to tell him a book quote to express that.

Coryo’a grin spread wide across his face. He looked a bit manic, a result of your words. Oh, how hearing you say that your souls are the same just made his heart burst.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

You're his now and will be forever. You're not just his wife, but his most treasured possession now. Being your husband, knowing that you're at his complete mercy, makes him feel all powerful.

Sejanus can't help, but feel like you're as delusional as Coriolanus right now after hearing the Emily Bronte quote you recited. Oh, Sejanus has read the book it's from and he thinks there's nothing romantic about the main and tragic relationship. God, he hopes your relationship with Coryo isn’t marked by tragedy, obsession, and extreme codependency like the haunting relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff was.

Coryo’s icy blue eyes are looking into yours intensely as he recites the standard Capitol vows of, “I promise to love and support you, to take you under my protection; to provide for the children that I will gift upon you. I promise to love you; to spend the rest of my days with you.”

You couldn't help, but swoon at the Capitol vows. To you, they sound so romantic.

But to Sejanus they sound like honeyed words used to shackle couples that grow old together in either indifference or hate.

“Well, that's it then. Coryo, Y/N, you're now married.” Sejanus announced before quickly unwrapping the ribbon from your hands.

Once your hands are free, Coryo grabs your face gently in his large hands and presses a sweet kiss to your lips to seal the marriage bond, like they do in the Capitol.

It's official, you're Mr. And Mrs. Snow now.

After the ceremony, Sejanus ate dinner with you and your new husband. Coryo even arranged for Sejanus to take you Christmas shopping on Monday while he's occupied taking his Elite Officer's Examine, which he's positive that he'll pass. The conversation during dinner was nice. You like Sejanus and you're glad that Coryo has him as a friend. He's a nice guy, very down to earth and friendly.

After dinner, Sejanus said his goodbyes to you and Coryo and left. Traditionally, the folks of District 8 stay for hours after the handfasting ceremony, but you reckon that Sejanus left after the pie was served because he needed to head back to base. Unlike your husband, Private Plinth actually sleeps in his bunk at the barracks.

You had already put up the leftovers and you're washing the last dish whenever Coryo comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His nose nuzzles your neck and he presses a kiss on the sweet spot below your ear. “I’m ready to fuck you, Mrs. Snow; make you mine in every sense of the word.”

“How’re we supposed to do that, Coryo? My back needs at least a couple more weeks to fully heal.” You ask, placing the dish onto the drying rack with the others.

“Snow lands on top.” He smirks into your neck. Turning you around after you unplugged the drain, he told you, “You'll have to ride my cock til your back’s healed.”

*Oh.” You squeaked, eyes slightly wide.

“Don't be nervous, baby. I'll guide you thru it.”

“Okay.” You simply nod, since you didn't really know what else to do.

You know that you're going to have to fuck him. It's a given now that you're married. You're honestly surprised that he didn't make you ride his cock earlier, before you even got married.

“I can always take you behind, doggy style too.” Your platinum blonde husband remarked, causing you to just nod.

Yea, there was that too. But then he'd be staring at your back. Your stitched up, scarred up back, during the do.

Yea…

You're not sure how you feel about that.

Caressing your cheek in his large calloused hand, he lightly smiled. “But I think for the first few times it'd be nice to look at each other's faces. Yea?”

“Yea.” You softly agree.

He presses a kiss full of heated want on your lips only to pull away and take your hand. “Come on, let's go to bed.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to your bed.

To the point of no return.

Coriolanus stops you right in front of the bed, only to cup your cheeks in his hands and bend his head down to kiss you with every fiber of his being. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer while syncing your lips with his; kissing him back with as much vigor as he's shown you.

Kissing Coryo was an experience in and of itself. His kisses could be chaste and innocent, but then they could be fiery and passionate: full of need and hot blooded desire.

The kisses you're sharing right now are the latter. They're passionate and fiery, full of an unquenchable desire. Coryo's mouth literally slots over yours, noses bumping together, as his tongue slips into your mouth with such urgency. An urgency that can only be attributed to desire and need. To passion and lust.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth. Your own tongue finds its way into his mouth, exotically dancing with his. Coryo's fingers entangle in your hair while his other hand holds your jaw in a vice grip. Your hands are clutching at the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself as you continue to kiss him passionately.

Coryo pulls away, leaving you both breathless and panting. He leans his forehead against yours, only to whisper, “Is this real, Mrs. Y/N Snow? The way you feel about me? It's real for me and I-I was just wondering if it's real for you too.”

The vulnerability in his cerulean blue eyes took you aback. You've never seen him like this before. You're so used to Coryo being condescending and cunning, sweet, but in a reserved way.

You've never seen him vulnerable before. And that sight makes you realize that there's more to your husband than what meets the eye. That deep down, he's just an orphan boy that wants to be loved. And you understand that wholeheartedly since you're an orphan girl that wants the same thing.

To be loved.

Unwinding a hand from his neck and softly stroking his cheek with it, you tell him, “It's real for me too, husband.” Giving him a small smile, you carry on with, “We’re all each other's got, Coryo. And I'm grateful for you.” You notice that your words are having a calming effect on him, which is good. “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You assure him, bringing your other hand up to his cheek.

Honestly, you married him so that you'll have stability. So you'll be able to always have a roof over your head and food in your belly. Yes, you like him, but the marriage is so that you're not on your own struggling to get by.

Coryo's determined to take care of you; to make up for ratting you out and getting you whipped. He wants to get you out of 8; who are you to stop him?

You married him out of self preservation, but you honestly do like him. He's a very handsome man- unlike any you've ever met, and you enjoy his company. If he's delusional to think that you're in love then so be it. At least you'll be able to sleep in a warm bed with a full belly every night.

Your answer was exactly what Coriolanus needed to hear. His icy eyes light up and he kissed you once more with power and passion. A promise of things to come.

Coryo's sitting on the edge of the bed and you're straddling him. He's in now hint, but his white boxers, while you're naked. He's got a hand on your hip, balancing you, while the other's between your legs. Two of his fingers are shoved deep inside your cunt as he fucks you furiously with them. His thumb rubs quick, sloppy circles over your swollen clit, as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“You're close, baby. You're gonna cum soon.” He knowingly states, not asks, as he picks up his pace.

“Coryo…please…” You whine, feeling as if you're going to explode and see stars any minute by how hard, fast, and deep he's fingering you. Hell, you never knew that being fingered could feel like this. But yet again, his fingers are much longer than yours…

His fingers hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, over and over again, making your hips back against his as you chase your high.

“That's it, baby. That's it, ride my fingers. Good girl, just like that.” Coryo cooed praises into your ear as your head drops to his shoulder while you ride his fingers, chasing after your orgasm that you're oh so desperate to feel.

His hand on your hip helps guide you as you quickly roll your hips forward and back, riding his fingers, as little moans and mewls escape your lips. They're mostly muffled by his shoulder, since you're resting your head in it. But Coryo can still hear a few. The few noises you make that echo in the room mingle with the loud, lewd, wet squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt.

Suddenly, your clawing at your husband's back and canting your hips quickly as your orgasm fastly approaches. “Coryo…I'm close.” You mutter out into his shoulder.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum right now, baby.” Coryo ordered, his voice hot and thick with lust, as he thumb pressed hard against your clit while he pounds your pussy relentlessly with his long fingers.

And you do. You cum hard around his fingers, moaning out his name like a prayer. Coryo helps guide your hips as you ride out your high on his fingers.

When your body goes slack, he pulls his hand out from between your legs. “Look, darling.” Coryo orders while spreading his fingers apart, causing your juices to create a web between them.

You feels your cheeks heat up as you look at your husband's hand, the one that had just been between your legs. You weren't aware that you let out that many juices when you came. Seeing them webbed and stringing against your husband's fingers…well…

And when your husband curled his fingers into a fist, so only his wet ones were standing upright, and smelled the two wet fingers- causing his eyes to flutter shut as he declared in a shaky exhale, “Your cunt smells so good, darling.”, You nearly died of arousal.

Oh boy, did that turn you for some ungodly reason.

And when he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices clean off of them…oh yea…you felt yourself grow wetter. You felt your core ache for his cock.

Coryo pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop, only to help you off of him while saying, “I'm going to take off my boxers and lay down in the bed, okay?”

“Okay.” You simply nod, watching as your husband stands up and slides down his boxers.

You know he has a big cock by the large bulge that was in his boxers, but when you see his cock rise to full attention and slap up against his stomach, you can't help but to look at it in awe. It was long, at least 8 inches, and very girthy too. Damn, even his balls are big. Like everything on Coryo's big.

You guess what they say about y'all men with big hands, big feet, and big noses is true. Cause right now, you're looking at the living proof that the saying isn't a myth.

It's true. Very, very, true.

Tall men with big hands, feet, and noses are blessed with big cocks.

“Like what you see, Mrs. Snow?” Coryo asks with a cocky, lopsided grin as he closes the distance between you after kicking his boxers to the side once he stepped out of them.

“Yes, I suppose so, since it's the only cock I've ever seen.” You tell him, locking your eyes with his icy blue ones.

Taking your hand and bringing it to his cock, which has veins running along it with an angry red head that's leaking pearly drops of precum, he tells you, “You can touch me, you know.”

“Is there a certain way you like to be touched?” You wonder.

You don't know how experienced Coryo is and you really don't care. He's your husband now, so any and all experience he has is just going to make you feel good. But you lack experience. So, of course you want to know what your husband likes, it's only natural to ask.

The platinum blonde gives you a thin smile, one that's barely holding back how horny he is, and tells you, “Use your thumb to gather my precum and spread it around my cock before pumping it up and down. You can also swipe the slit on my head too.”

“Okay.” You nod before doing as you're told.

“There ya go, baby. That's it, you got it.” Coryo praised, lust blowing his pupils black, as he watched you slowly, but surely jack him off.

After a few minutes, Coriolanus’ breath began to hitch. He placed a hand on yours to stop you, all the while saying, “I think it's time I get in bed and you get on top of me.”

You just nod, watching as your husband fluffs the pillows and lays down comfortably on his back.

“Come here, baby.” He motioned with an outstretched hand.

You get into the bed and go over to him, straddling his hips. You're hovering over his hard cock, balancing yourself by resting your hands on Coryo's chest. One of his hands went to your hip while the other grabbed his cock, teasing you by rubbing his tip along your slit; bumping into your clit once or twice.

“You ready, darling?” Coryo asked, locking eyes with you.

“Yes.” You nod. After how good of a job he did warming you up, you'd be a fool not to be ready.

“Just sink down slowly; take your time til you bottom out.” He instructed, rubbing soothing and supportive circles in your hip bone.

Nodding, you listened to your husband and slowly sank down on his cock. You felt a burning sensation tearing you apart as his cockhead parted your petals and entered your virgin cunt. It wasn't painful per say, just uncomfortable. The burning sensation at the stretch his cock made to your tight walls had you biting your lip and letting out little whimpers.

“I know, baby. I know, it's a big stretch.” Coryo cooed, the corners of his mouth turned up. He took the hand that was on the base of his cock (feeling that you're doing a good enough job guiding yourself down on it that he doesn't need to hold it anymore) and cupped your cheek. “You're doing such a good job, baby.” Coryo softly ran the pad of his calloused thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Just a lil bit more and I'll be picking your cherry, my sweet girl.” Your husband assured you, his baritone honeyed and lustful.

You've heard that getting your cherry popped hurts like hell, or at least that's what the girls said at school. Hell, even your old friends Lil and Lucy Gray back on your old street in the Seam said it hurt like no other. So you're sure that it's going to be the worst pain in your life.

But your husband's assuring words, sweetly melodic but ardent, put you at ease. His simple action of soothingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb eased your nerves; your fears as well. Who would've known that Coryo, a tall, imposing peacekeeper with a platinum buzz cut and mischievous baby blues could be so soft and gentle, so reassuring and understanding.

In that moment you, without a doubt, knew that you made the right choice in marrying Coryo. How many other young men would be patient enough with you to let you go at your own pace during your first time? Not many, or at least not the type of men that your old friends had would be patient.

You really hit the jackpot when you got with your peacekeeper. Yes, you know that the way ya'll got together wasn't ideal, but he's truly been nothing, but amazing since he brought you home badly whipped, bleeding profusely, and nearly unconscious with pain. Private Snow, soon to be Elite Officer Snow (if all goes according to plan and he passes his exams), might be a condescending asshole at times, but he's also a caring, loveable man at others. And right now he's a tenderhearted lover.

Your breath hitches as you feel Coriolanus' cockhead breach your barrier; breaking your hymen and taking your virginity. Your nails scratch at his chest and you bite your lip in reaction to the stinging sensation that you feel throbbing in your pussy.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Did I hurt you?” Your husband asks, looking up at you with genuine concern flashing in his icy eyes, as you bottom out on top of him.

“I'm not hurt, Coryo. It just stings a lil bit, that's all.” You honestly tell him, not wanting him to worry.

“You just just cockwarm me til you feel comfortable to move, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, a tiny smile stretching your lips.

“Come ‘ere, baby.” Coryo instructs, sliding his hand down your cheek and down to your neck only to guide your face down towards his. As your lips ghosts over each other's, he commands in a husky tone, “Kiss me while you sit on my cock.”

And who are you to turn down your husband's request when his plush lips look oh so kissable. You quite enjoy kissing him. It's a sensation that you'll never grow tired of.

Your hands slide up Coryo's toned chest, only to hold onto his shoulders for leverage, as your lips meet his in a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned passionate and sloppy. Your tongues danced exotically as your body grew accustomed to his large cock stretching out your walls and filling you up all the way to your womb. A breathy moan fell from your lips as your kiss broke apart, so the two of you could catch some air.

Coryo's lips we're mere inches from yours as he asked, “Think you're ready to start moving, my darling rose?”

“Yea,” You nod, “I'm ready.”

“Remember how you rode my fingers? Just do that, alright?”

“Alright.” You parroted before slowly and experimentally rising and falling down onto your husband's cock; causing him to let out a low moan of approval.

It didn't take long for you to find a comfortable rhythm. And before long, you're riding your husband with the desperate need to cum, arms wrapped around his neck as he's sitting up, sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and grabbing at your tits with the need of a hungry, starving madman.

“Fuck! Coryo…” You loudly moan as his teeth scrape again your pebbled nipple, sending pleasure shooting straight to your core, before he lifts his head and attaches his kiss bruised lips to your neglected nipple. As his lips start sucking your other nipples, his thumb soothingly rubs over the one that he just bit, making your cunt grow even wetter.

“Oh gods, Coryo, I'm so close again.” You choke out on a high pitched moan, feeling his cock dive deep inside of your cunt and kiss your cervix as you bounce down particularly fast on him.

Your husband lets your nipple fall from his mouth with a loud, wet pop and he stops feeling up your boobs. One of his hands grabs your ass while the other goes slightly behind him, resting on the bed to give him leverage, as he sits up a bit straighter. Bending his knees slightly so that his feet are flat on the bed, he orders you to, “Hold onto my neck and wrap your legs around my waist. I'm gonna finish us off.”

“Okay.” You smile before doing as your told.

Not a second later, Coryo's fingers are digging into your ass cheek while his hips are wildly bucking up; causing his cock to piston deep inside of you. So deep that you're seeing stars.

“Coryo…I think I'm gonna cum.” You tell him, lips hovering close to his, as you feel the knot in your lower belly about to come undone.

“I'm gonna cum right after ya, baby.” He groaned, snapping his hips even faster. “Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my seed; knock you up tonight, babygirl.” Coryo grunted thru clenched teeth as his cock pounded your tight pussy with wild abandon. "I swear, you're gonna look so beautiful all round with my child."

Were you ready to be a mom? Who knows, who cares. You'll deal with it when the time comes. All you know is that your husband's fucking you so good and you're about to cum on his gigantic cock any second now.

“Coryo…” You mewl while your cunt flutters around his cock. The dam of pleasure’s about to burst and all you can think about is how badly you want to kiss your husband.

So…

You unwrap one of your hands from around his neck and grab a hold of the chain around his neck. The one that his dog tags are one. The same dog tags that are bouncing back and forth between both of your chests. Using the chain, you pull him a few inches towards you until your lips meet his for a kiss. A kiss that's desperate. An open mouth kiss that's filthy and full of both tongue and spit swapping as you cum hard around his cock.

Coryo's icy eyes literally roll into the back of his head as he feels your tight cunt spasm around his cock and soak his cock and thigh as you cum. Fuck, you're a squirter and that turns him on. It turns him on so much that the next time he bucks up he's shooting his load of hot, thick ropes up cum deep up into your womb.

He continues to slowly rock his hips up and down to ride out your highs. Your lips are no longer engaged in a dirty open mouthed kiss. Instead, your foreheads are resting on each other as you just get lost gazing into each other's eyes- looking into the windows of each other's souls.

Souls that are truly so similar considering you both are orphans with a self preservation streak.

After a little while, he stops moving and lays flat down on his back. He adjusts your legs so that you can comfortably lay down on him. He even places the blanket on top of you two so that you'll be warm.

“Shouldn't I get off of you?” You ask, referring to his cock still being stuffed inside of your cunt.

“No.” Coryo shakes his head against his pillow. “Don’t worry about it, babe. My cock’ll slip out once it softens.” He assures you with a satisfied smirk while tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “You were amazing, Mrs. Y/N Snow.”

“Thank you, Elite Officer Snow. I have an amazing husband for a teacher.” You playfully smile back, tracing patterns on his toned chest.

“Remind me to thank that amazing husband of yours for teaching you how to ride cock like a pro.” Coryo teasingly chuckled, earning him a playful smack in the arm from you.

Then, you decided to bring up a serious topic. One that was tied to some dirty talk your husband said while fucking.

Looking up at him with big, curious eyes, you seriously ask, “Coryo, do you really want kids?”

“Yes, Y/N, I really want to have kids with you.” Your husband answered, only to follow it up with a question of his own. “Don't you want them, my darling rose.”

“I never really thought about it, but one day I'd like to be a mom.”

“Babies come when they come, darling.” Your platinum peacekeeper tell you so casually that it's as.of he's telling you the weather forecast.

“I know.” You simply tell him. Then, worry crosses your features as you seriously ask, “Since they'd be born in the districts would they be eligible for the game's lottery?”

“No.” Coryo's quick to assure you with a shake of his head. His large hand comforts you by soothingly rubbing your arm up and down. “Officer’s children are born on a Capitol run base in the hospital and live on base or base approved housing. They're registered as Capitol citizens at birth; they're parents no matter their origin of birth are considered Capitol as well.”

You let out a loud, incredulous laugh, only to tell your husband, “So I fucking stood in line 7-fucking-years for the reaping when I didn't have to all because my brother refused to hand over my papers when it was time for game registration.”

“What?” Coryo asked, his voice full of confusion, as he stared at you slack jawed.

“Close your mouth, honey. You'll catch flies with it open like that.” You tease Coryo, snapping his jaw shit with your fingers. Knowing you have to tell him the truth, the very same truth you learned right after your brother died, you sighed and explained, “After my brother died we went thru everything in the house to see what we wanted to keep, sell, and give away. Hidden in the end table by his sitting chair was an old picture of my parents and my birth certificate.”

You had to pause to collect yourself. You never planned on revealing this, but it seems like gate has other plans. Coryo just looked at you with support flashing in his eyes while gently squeezing your hand. He wasn't dumb, he was putting the pieces together fairly quickly. But he wanted to hear you say what he's thinking, to make sure that it's right.

When you feel ready to continue, you tell your husband, “I discovered that I was born on PK Base D-12 to a Colonel Javanis Halvir and a Helenium Halvir.” Shaking your head, you bitterly spat out, “I even have a Capitol name too; it's actually a longer version of the name my brother grew up calling me.”

“So you're half Capitolite then or were both your parents-” Coryo began to ask only for you to abruptly cut him off with, “Half. My father was a Capitolite and my mother was from District 12; Rein was my half-brother from her first marriage, but my dad must've adopted him since he used the Halvir name.”

“Do you want me to write the Capitol about this? I know some people that could look into your family, see if perhaps you have an inheritance tied up in probate or any relatives still alive?”

“You don't have to do that, Coryo.” You softly decline. Honestly, you never considered finding your long lost family. Plus it's not like they were looking for you either.

But Coryo wanted to inquire about your family, that Halvirs. If they had money or if you had an inheritance then as your husband he's legally bound to be the recipient of it. And Lord knows how much Coriolanus Snow craves money, power, and glory. How he wants to get back to the Capitol, with you and any children you have in tow, to become the youngest president in Panem's history.

But he can't tell you that, now can he?

No…

So, instead he tells you, “Y/N, baby, you're my wife and I love you. Let me use my Capitol contacts to help you find your family.” Giving you a slight pout and a pair of big cerulean blue puppy dog eyes, he adds in the magic word of, “Please.”

How can you say no to that? You can't. So, you tell him okay.

Coriolanus is overjoyed, but he doesn't let it show. Instead his baritone is calm and collective as he tells you that it's time to go to sleep. As you yawn and settle down on his chest, visions of a newfound rich family or a large inheritance sum are dancing around in his head, much like sugarplums dance around in children's heads on Christmas Eve.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 1 day

Text

Bells and Whistles (John Price x Captain!Reader)

Summary: This was far from what you imagined your first date with John would be.

AN: This is part of the "Star-crossed in the Crosshairs" universe, but you don't have to read that fanfic first. You can enjoy this as a standalone!

Thank you and special shout-out to @feedthemadness_sweetie on AO3 for commenting on near EVERY chapter of that series and motivating me to do some actually short slices of life for this series.

Bit of context: Reader is a Captain, they and John trained together before John was MIA for three years (and didn't contact them for the rest of the decade when he did get rescued). Reader has finally decided to give him a chance now that he's atoning for his mistake, and they're falling back in love.

"Star-crossed in the Crosshairs" Chapter 1 // Masterlist // AO3 Version

-----------------------------------------

“I’m sorry, but I fucking hate this.”

“Oh thank God, me too.”

So above your level was this restaurant that you’d been sent derisive looks when you’d requested to be seated near the fish tank wall. That wall turned out to be the highlight of this place. The menu? Incomprehensible, both in the style of writing and the combinations of flavours. The napkins? Folded into a shape you couldn’t have created outside of a dream. The chandeliers? More expensive than your flat, casting a thousand rainbows to be fragmented further by the glass displays dotted around this restaurant. Your outfit felt cheap, even though you’d technically splashed out on your first actual date with John. Speaking of, John was wearing a pressed suit with a bow tie you could tell he’d tied himself.

“Can we go please?” You asked quietly. John nodded and immediately signalled to the waiter. You’d barely had an entrée and a glass of wine so the bill didn’t take too long to arrive. Ripples of dull aqua wobbled over your hand, the bulb in the fish tank offering you no reassurance. An angelfish glided past your head whilst John slipped his card into the leather tab, and you pulled on your denim jacket, the one the egregious maître d’ had stared at for the longest second in your life.

A chill caught you off guard as you stepped outside. Glass shook in the door’s frame as John let it swing shut, catching up to you in two long strides.

“Sorry, love,” He said, his voice steel, but you could feel the dejection.

“It’s ok,” You took his hand and used it as an anchor to pull yourself closer to him and slow the return to his car right down. Again, you were really glad to be leaving that place behind, behind with the conversation that was mainly catching up on the last few years and awkward silences.

Thankfully, John reduced his speed and his hand pulsed twice around yours, “I just wanted you to have a good time.”

“We’ve changed a lot, but I still don’t need all the bells and whistles.”

“You deserve the bells and whistles.”

“True, but not that many bells and whistles.”

True enough, on the glum walk through streets you hadn’t really paid attention to on the journey up, you eyed up a pub across the road that screamed “local legend”. When you pointed it out to John, he noted the giant bell hanging over the doorway in lieu of a hanging board. It took two minutes to get you both situated with your drinks and a laminated dogeared menu attached to a clipboard with all the classics in Georgia font. Much more your style.

“You’re not going to believe this,” John said, crinkles by his eyes clueing you in on a jest.

“What?” You followed where he’d indicated, sipping through your straw until you choked on it. A karaoke machine dazzled in the corner by a square of parquet flooring, acting as a flat stage.

“I’m not drunk enough to get up there,” You indicated to your J20 (orange and passion-fruit - classic), “And I’m not drinking anymore. You?”

He shook his head, “Young man’s game.”

“John. You just turned forty.” Your pause and emphasis were there to say “shut up, you’re hardly about to cash in your pension”.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Well, if we’re taking stock, I’ve got the knees of a grandfather in my ‘old age’.”

“Yeah, ‘cus you keep jumping off second-storey buildings and taking sledgehammers to them.”

A second elapsed then you and John both turned into piglets, snorting at his jab whilst your food arrived with a carousel of condiments. You grabbed the sauce bottle, shaking it to test if there was enough, whilst John shook a packet of salt to douse his chips in.

Neither of you bothered with the paper napkins in your laps, protecting your debonair wear. The food was good enough that you didn’t have to talk through it, except to pretend to complain when John took a pickle poking out from your burger and you stole the extra crispy bit of batter from his cod. Worth it though, every time, to see that fake frustration fade into that dumb fucking smile that made him look like a cartoon and endeared you more and more. All that work put into atoning for you and forgiving him was made worth it.

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price #captain john price #cod fanfic #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #my writing #series #r: gn

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canadianfangurl-95 · 3 days

Text

Take Care.

Summary: Frankie and the Triple Frontier guys go to their local bar to get Frankie a date. He decides to pursue the new bartender.

Rating: 18+, minors DNI.

Warning: smut, p in v, oral f receiving

Hey, this is my first time writing in more than a decade and I have been loving everyone's work on here so much I wanted to give it a try. please let me know if you enjoyed or if you have any feedback! Also, I am Canadian so there are definitely some spelling that may be different from American and also some simple things like how in Canada the waitress brings the credit machine to the table instead of taking the card, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm rambling, enjoy!

Word count; 11k+

The dimly lit sign of the bar had a few letters burnt out of it. The green leather booths hadn’t been updated since the place opened 20 years ago. The wood bar had been meticulously cared for and still shone with the polish it received weekly. It was a humble bar, a place for regulars and the odd collection of students who would trickle in from the college 10 miles from there. But that sign laid up against the burnt orange Texan sky made a certain group of ex-military men, trying to find their place back in a world that has very much changed since their time in the service, feel like they could have a few beers and cheers to forget about the worries in their lives.

The four men poured into the bar at their usual time every other Friday night. They were all busy in life right now but made sure they still got together on a regular basis. They would laugh about old times, be each other’s wing men so that at least of them could get lucky from time to time and remind themselves how exceptionally bad Santiago is at pool for someone who is such a sharpshooter in the field.

Benny and Will slid in on opposite sides of their regular spot to meet in the middle on the c shaped booth, followed by Santiago on the right side and Frankie on the left edge, always sitting with his right leg slightly in the aisle to stretch out.

Santiago scanned the room intently, not unusual as this was a habit the four of them had developed during their time in the service, however his face gave Frankie an uneasy feeling when it suddenly met his with a half smirk.

“Okay boys, I know we all like to have our fun on these nights, but tonight we are focusing on Morales alright?” Santiago said firmly to Benny and Will with an outstretched hand pointed at Frankie.

Frankie instantly furrowed his brow at this sudden declaration, “What do you mean focus on me?” He scanned Benny and Wills’ faces to see if they were in on something he wasn’t aware of.

“I mean,” Santiago started, leaning forward on the wood table, his face becoming more illuminated under the low glow of the hanging light pendant above them, “you need to get laid because it has for one, been too damn long, two, you’re shit at talking to women lately and three as your roommate I’m sick of hearing you listen to Alanis Morisette on repeat.” Santiago counted the reasons in his right hand before laying it flat on the table and quirking his left eyebrow up at his friend.

Before Frankie could open his mouth fully, Will interjected pointing lazily in Frankies direction. “He doesn’t need a cheap hookup, Pope. What Frankie needs is a relationship to get back into it. A nice girl that will take care of him.” Will crossed his arms and rested his back gently on the booth as he gave Frankie a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I’m with Pope on this one.” Benny perked up, “One night between the sheets and then he’s back in the streets.” He had a shit eating grin on his face like he always did whenever someone talked about a hook up. Benny being the ladies’ man he is was always down to support his friends getting some.

“Thank you, Benny, someone’s got some sense here.” Santiago tilted his head toward Benny who nodded back.

“Do I get a say in this?” Frankie asked callously, his right hand waived slightly in the air with his question and his other perched underneath his chin as he listened to his friends dive into the dampness that is his love life.

“No.” all three men said in unison with a quick glance at him. He gave a huff and watched as they all returned to a conversation he was seemingly excluded from.

“Now I’m not saying he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, I’m just saying he needs someone to take, care, of him you know what I mean?” Santiago winked and dragged out a select few words to make his point.

“Ohh yeah.” Benny slyly chimed in.

Will pulled his shoulders off the back of the booth and shifted his body toward Santiago who instantly felt his lecture being prepared, “No, no he needs someone to take care of him in more ways than just physically. He needs be taken care of emotionally as well.”

The three men spurred into a loud retort of their opinions, hands waving back and forth towards Frankie as he looked at the fishing painting laden behind Bennys head that he’s seen a hundred times before. Frankie knows he hasn’t been in a relationship or even had a hook up in almost a year. He had finalized his divorce 3 years ago and since then he hasn’t had much luck with women, so he lost interest in trying. The dating apps were getting routine as well. Some girl in her twenties he had nothing in common with and couldn’t even tolerate enough to get through a one night stand was pretty typical.

They were all so distracted in their own nonsense they didn’t notice when she suddenly appeared at the edge of the table with her notepad and pen in hand. After a quiet hello and no interest from the men she brazenly tapped her pen on the table between them and they all stopped mid-sentence to turn and look at her with the same taken aback expression on their faces.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt, I’m Sadie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She said with a weary smile to the group of ridiculously good-looking men.

All four men looked at her face, tan and freckled with a wide smile that lit up her green eyes. Beautiful amber red hair that fell loosely down her back with a slight curl. And then down to her white tank crop top, short black waitress apron tied around her hips with a few highlighters and a bottle cap opener tucked in over light wash flare legged ripped jeans. Finishing off the look with red cowboy boots, close enough of a colour to match her hair.

Their heads immediately snapped back to one another’s and then back at hers as she sheepishly waited their response. Frankie pulled the hand that had been resting under his chin down to his lap with an interested look.

Santiago shifted in his seat, turning on his heart winning smile as an idea grew behind his eyes. “Sadie, you said?”

She smiled and nodded back to him, holding her pen to her paper now. Expecting to take his order next. But Santiago was never known to be predictable.

He slid his left elbow to rest on the top of the booth and angled himself toward her. The three other men shared a quick glance at each other, unsure where he was going with this interaction.

“I’ve never seen you here before, when did you start?”

“It will be two weeks tomorrow actually.” She responded with a pleasant smile.

“Huh, how long have you been bartending?” He asked.

She pursed her lips to think and squinted as she replied, “About 5 years. But I just do it to pay for my schooling.” Her hair flowed on her shoulder, and she brushed the piece on her left side onto her back, revealing more of her perfectly tanned and freckled skin under the bright white top.

Santiago raised his eyebrows at this information, egging him on to continue the conversation. “What are you in school for?”

“I’m getting my master’s in child psychology through an online university.” Sadie replied with a confident smile, clearly prideful of her career choice.

Santiago pressed on, “Wow that is amazing. Good for you, where were you working before you came here?”

With a huff she shrugged, “I was just at this one chain restaurant across town. But I didn’t get good tips there and as my education is ridiculously expensive, I decided to make a change.”

“What brought you to our little slice of paradise?” Santiago quipped with a charming smile.

Frankie watched as his friend went back and forth with the beautiful bartender. She wasn’t Santiagos typical type, so he was skeptical on what his motive to have this lengthy of a conversation with her was. Not that Frankie was minding as he was as intrigued with this woman as Santiago seemed to be.

She hummed; she was surprisingly pleased with the actual interest in her. But she knew the type, the charmer. Luckily, she knew exactly how to deal with a charmer in her years in the bartending industry. Get them to blink first.

“My friend actually used to work here for a few months. She said that there are so many regulars that you get the opportunity to get to know people and then they start taking care of you and tipping well.” Sadie spoke confidently, knowing she had the attention of these men and thought now would be a good time to turn the tables. “Plus, and her words not mine,” she waived her hands casually, still holding the pen and notepad in her right hand. “She said if you have a great ass you’ll get great tips. So, here I am.” She chuckled.

Frankie, Benny and Will all blushed briefly, but Santiago stayed with his eyes firm on the target.

“So, you’re saying you have a great ass?” he quickly retorted.

“I guess that will be decided on how good your tip is.” She leaned forward slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man until he finally broke and turned his head with a chuckle.

“Do you say that to all your customers to get a better tip?”

Sadie smiled, “Only if I’m sure they’ll fall for it.”

Damn, Frankie thought. Smart, quick, and funny. He’s concerned Santiagos interest is more peaked than he thought and now he’s the one who’s been sitting idly by while his best friend flirts with one of the most perfect women he’s ever met.

Santigo laughed this jab off and turned to look at the boys. All of whom had an approving look on their faces of the verbal joust they just witnessed between their cocky friend and the new bartender.

When he turned back to her, smile still brazen on his face, he said “We’ll get two pitchers of Corona. We’ll do four by the end of the night so each of us will take one on our bills.”

She wrote down the order, and then looked up and asked, “What can I put down for names on the bills?”

“Santi, that’s Will, Benny and Frankie.” Santiago smiled while gesturing to the guys around the table. “I’ll take one of these on mine.”

“I’ll take the other.” Will raised his hand and smiled when she nodded at him.

“Alright,” she penned in her notepad. “Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. Will do you ever go by Willy or Billy?” she asked with a soft look.

Will sat up straighter, chuckling slightly. “Uh, no not really. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought if you did then all your names would rhyme, and you could be a fun boy band with rhyming names that’s all.” She said with a giggle. The guys all laughed and tried to convince Will it would be a good change. To which he shook his head.

Sadie stole a quick glance at Frankie whose eyes hadn’t left her for much of the conversation. Not that she minded, his deep brown eyes and curly hair pushing itself out from underneath his baseball hat were cute. She is accustomed daily to lingering glances of men, but this one made her breath catch slightly before speaking again.

“Well then, two pitchers of Corona and one opportunity to check out my ass without judgement coming right up.” She crossed a line on the note pad and turned swiftly towards the bar. Hips swinging a little more than she’d like to admit.

All the men graciously took their opportunity and turned their heads slightly to catch a sight of her walking away.

Santiago turned quickly to the group, “Guys, she’s the one.”

“The one?” Benny asked, arms folded over his chest and leaned back as far as he could. Trying to get comfortable as the biggest guy in the booth.

“Yes, the one we were just talking about. For Frankie.” Santiago gestured to his friend who perked his eyebrows up at the new thought that Santiago wasn’t interested in Sadie at all. “It can go both ways, he could either have a great hook up with a hot bartender and then just keep a professional relationship with her here if there’s nothing more to it, or he could get into a relationship with a great, smart, nice and competent girl.”

Frankie adjusted himself in his seat. “What if it went South and she was pissed at me. Then all we have is a bartender at our favourite spot spitting in our pitchers.” He didn’t think she’d be the type, but he was also incredibly nervous by Santiagos proposition.

They all took a beat, taking in this possible outcome. They looked over at Sadie at the bar. She was pouring a tall beer for a woman and chatting in a bubbly and infatuating way. She reached below the bar and tossed a coaster onto the top. She placed the beer on top of the coaster and slid it over to the customer with a bright smile. The men all watched as she flung her hair over her back and gathered it loosely in her right hand while she fanned her face with her left, seemingly making a comment about the heat behind the bar with the warm lights above her. Her skin shone and her eyes squinted slightly as she talked, moistening her lips as she listened to her coworker.

Santiago turned back to the group, “Yeah, I think that’s worth the risk buddy. At least it would be for me.” A devilish grin wiping his face.

Frankie’s gaze didn’t waver from her. He observed her low neckline that curved on her plush chest. The way her tan stomach peaked out below her top showing off her belly button ring. The tattoos on various parts of her body that he would love to get a closer look of, or taste.

He adjusted himself slightly before making eye contact with Santiago. “Alright, I’m in.” They all cheered, and Benny patted him on the back. “But I don’t even know where to start man.”

“That’s why you have me, don’t sweat it okay.” Santiago dove into his seemly well thought out plan considering he only met Sadie a mere minutes ago. “When she brings the drinks back, we’ll get her talking again, make sure you actually contribute this time.” He gave a pointing glare to his friend, which made Frankie shrug his shoulders slightly, making him appear a bit smaller. “And then about 20 minutes later, you go over to the bar, order some food, and strike up a conversation. We’ll see where we’re at after that.”

The three men nodded at this suggestion. Frankie was suddenly never more nervous for his beer to arrive. Ironically, he needed the beer to make him able to go through with this. He hasn’t felt this nervous around a woman in longer than he can remember.

Benny and Will started into their typical conversation about Ben’s upcoming fight. They all loved Benny’s hobby. It provided them with great entertainment and an opportunity to get into the ring themselves during his training to get out a bit of frustrations. Will was just diving into the schedule and reminding the guys when they needed to check in as security detail when Sadie appeared from the bar with two pitchers in one hand four beer mugs in the other and 4 coasters tucked into the strap of her tank top.

“Whoa, incoming.” Santiago said as he cleared his phone and wallet off the table to make room.

Sadie carefully placed the two pitches down before grabbing the coasters from her strap and tossing them down one by one in front of the men. She then sat each glass atop the coasters and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“Well then, and they say bartending isn’t a physical job.” A thanks coming round the table from each of the men. “Can I take care of anything else for you right now?”

Before the group was able to speak a rowdy bunch of college boys pushed themselves through the door and stumbled to a table nearby. Sadie rolled her eyes at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, earning him an approving look from Santiago.

“Yeah, it’s just the college kids that come in here can get really annoying and handsy. It’s fine though, better than dealing with men who probably have daughters the same age as me asking what time I get done my shift.” She looked somewhat deflated at the reality of her job, that it wasn’t all pouring drinks and chatting with nice handsome men.

The guys all looked at each other, they had spent plenty of time with guys like that in the service. The one’s who would try to take up skirt shots of the waitresses when they would go out as a group. It made them apologetic for their gender.

“Sucks, sorry about that.” Benny finally rang out on behalf of the group.

She just gave a half smile, her eyes a little dimmer than before as she mentally prepared to go over and get their orders.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything like that tonight. We’ll keep an eye on them. This guy right here,” Frankie threw a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “is a big MMA fighter and the rest of us do security for him at the fights. If they get out of hand, I’m sure we can take care of them.”

Sadie lifted her head a little higher, impressed by the apparent knight in shining armor sitting to her left, ready to take care of her. “Hm, thanks Frankie. I’ll keep you- that, that in mind.” She stammered, before retreating over to the table with the college boys. Head held a little higher knowing she wouldn’t have to call one of the cooks from the back to throw a guy out like she’s had to do twice already at her new place of work.

Frankie watched intently, keeping an eye on the three college guys while they gawked at Sadie and her uncomfortably smiling back at them. Finally breaking attention when Santiago snaps his fingers at him.

“That was perfect buddy. A little damsel in distress and hero thing going on. She thinks she needs you to take care of her, very well played.”

“I wasn’t playing her; it sucks she has to deal with that shit at work and I wanted her to know that she could relax a bit tonight.”

“Fair enough, either way. I think she’s starting to like you. Which brings us to our next stage of the plan.” He rubbed his palms together with a devilish grin. Benny and Will chuckled at the commitment their friend had to his masterful plan. If he had a whiteboard available right now, he would’ve done a whole chart of each move he wanted Frankie to make.

“Why use our poor excuse of security work as an example and not oh I don’t know, our years in the military?” Will asked with his head cocked.

Frankie finished pouring his drink and hummed, “I’ll tell her, just a uh- topic of conversation for later.” He finally grinned, not wanting to reveal too much to her so he would have something to talk to her about later.

Half an hour later, the men had been nursing their beers in an effort to prevent an unplanned visit from Sadie if she noticed they needed a refill. All the while she stole glances to the booth wherever she was and with whomever she was talking to. Frankie saw her hold her position behind the bar long enough without anyone else talking to her and decided it was his opportunity to have another talk with her.

He slinked up from his seat in the booth, with his friend’s encouragement and walked over to the bar. She was illuminated by low hanging lights and beer company signs. There were bottles of liquor along the wall behind her and stacks of glasses of all sorts of shapes and sizes.

“Hey,” she beamed at him when he leaned against the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

Frankie calmed his nerves the best he could, wiping a bit of peanut dust off the bar in front of him. “Yeah, uh we were actually just wondering if we could get an order of the nachos for the table.”

She blushed, slightly embarrassed, “Oh sorry I guess I haven’t checked in on you guys in a while.”

“No, no it’s fine. You’re obviously busy tonight.”

Sadie smiled at his consideration and moved over to the computer. “Well, still sorry about that. But I promise I’ll take care of you now.” She worked quickly on the computer and then looked up at him. “Whose tab should I put it on?”

“Uhm,” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and snickered at Santiago briefly. “Put it on Pope’s tab.”

“Pope?” she looked back puzzled.

“Shit, sorry, Santi.”

She nodded, finishing the order. “Those will be out in about 15 minutes.”

“Great, thanks.” Frankie tapped his hands on the bar, unsure how to keep this conversation going.

She grabbed a washcloth and spray and started cleaning up a spill on the counter below her. “So, Frankie” Her thought was stopped abruptly by the sound of a group in the corner cheering and clinking their beer mugs. She chuckled to herself at the interruption. “Since you guys aren’t a boy band, how did y’all meet?”

There’s that topic of conversation he was waiting for. “We all served together, in the military.” He said causally.

Sadie lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed by the new information about these lovely strangers she’d just met. “Wow, well thank you for your service I guess.” They shared a smile. “Is that where Santis nickname comes from?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s Pope, Will is iron head, and I’m uh- Catfish. Fish for short.” He nodded away shyly.

“That’s so cool. It’s nice to see you’re all still so close. But wait, what’s Bennys nickname?”

Frankie rubbed his chin; thankful she didn’t immediately dive into the reason for his nickname. “He actually doesn’t have one. He came up the ranks a little later than the rest of us and the nicknames had already been dealt out so, a bit of an oversight by us.”

“Huh,” she simmered in his explanation briefly. “So, what do you do now?”

“I was a pilot when I was in active duty so now, I’m an instructor for the base in the next town over.” He loved telling women he was a pilot; it was something a step above what everyone else did during their time in the service, so it made him feel a little special.

She clearly thought he was special too, as she stopped cleaning to put one hand on her hip where her jeans were a little too low and her shirt was a little too high. How Frankie wanted to feel how soft she must be in that spot as he stared at her hand. “That’s really cool Frankie. It must be amazing being up there and in control of it all.”

“It is, I really enjoy flying. I could uh, take you up sometime in a helicopter if you’d like.”

“Oh Frankie, I don’t make good enough tips here that I could afford a private helicopter tour.” She laughed, grabbing some glasses to clean.

“No, it wouldn’t, I wouldn’t charge you anything. I bring friends up all the time.” He stated, hoping to not sound too forward.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, interested in his forwardness. “So, I would qualify for the friend discount then? Didn’t you just meet me an hour ago?” Sadie blushed, she liked the thought of being Frankies friend, or more.

“Would you believe I’ve always made friends fast?” He asked, “On my first day of basic Santi picked me out of the crowd, sat right down next to me because I looked the quietest of the group and he didn’t want to deal with all the typical macho army guys. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Sadie looked down at the counter she was cleaning and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m so busy right now my best friend is pretty much my mom so making a new friend wouldn’t be so bad now that I think of it.”

Frankie started to respond, but one of Sadie’s coworkers came behind the bar and asked her to talk to the manager as they needed to see her.

“Alright I’ll be right there. I’ll get those nachos out to you as soon as they’re ready Frankie.”

Before he could say anything, she retreated to the back area for employees with a smile in his direction.

Frankie returned to his friends and slid into the booth. “So, how’d it go?” Santiago pressed.

“Good, the nachos will be out in like, 10 minutes.” Frankie said casually, sipping on his beer.

Santiago looked around breathlessly before sputtering, “I don’t give a damn about the nachos.”

Benny raised his hand, “I uh, actually do give a damn about the nachos.” Always ready to eat a full meal no matter the time of day.

“Fish, how did it go with Sadieee.” He elongated her name to accentuate how visibly annoyed he is about his friend’s slack attitude.

Frankie and Benny chuckled to themselves, “It was good man alright. She’s nice. I told her about us serving together, the nicknames came up, offered her a ride in a helicopter. You know, casual stuff.” He looked to the Millers who nodded along. Frankie was trying his best not to seem too excited, because truthfully, he was already developing a big crush just from the few interactions with her.

Santiago tilted his head at his unsuspecting friend. “You invited her for a helicopter ride? The second time you talked to her.”

Frankie shrugged, “Yeah, it just came up. Girls like that stuff. She thought it was cool when I told her about it so, I don’t know.” His nervousness grew with the line of questioning.

“What happened to leaving it open for a one-night stand?”

“It still can be, or maybe it could be something real. I’d prefer the latter but, we’ll see I guess.”

Santiago leaned back in his seat, unsure where to go in his plan based on this new information. He stewed for a few minutes while the guys went back into conversation.

His train of thought was cut when Sadie appeared and placed the nachos on the table. “Here you go, I’ll be right back with some plates.”

She returned and placed the plates on the table, she then unexpectedly pulled a water bottle out of her apron and pulled a chair up to the front of the booth to sit down from a nearby table.

The group looked with surprise at the sudden guest at their table. Frankie thanked the stars that they asked for the nachos when they did.

“Sorry to interrupt but I am finally on a break, and I just found out that the other closer for the night was the girl that called in today.” She took a sip from her water before proceeding. “So that means I am closing by myself and something that typically takes 30 minutes is going to take an hour. Yay me, and I don’t really have any interest in sitting in that dreary break room right now to wallow in my self-pity for how late I am going to get home tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, more the merrier.” Will leaned in to cheer her with his beer and her water bottle.

“So, the nick name thing. I have multiple questions.” She started.

The group of men laughed, “Okay what you got.” Santiago asked.

“Pope, where the hell did that come from, because from my slight interactions with you, I would personally point you towards a more Southern direction in that aspect.” She touched her hands to her chest and laughed along with Santiago.

“I gave a lot of speeches back in the day and really laid on my so-called wisdom a little thick which ended up earning me the title.” He shrugged with his laugh and pulled his beer up to his lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Huh, interesting. And Benny,” she suddenly turned her attention to the younger man over to her left who pointed at himself cautiously. “No nick name. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he leaned forward. The rest of the men groaned, apparently hearing this over and over again. “I totally got shafted on that.”

Sadie propped her right hand under her chin leaning forward. Frankie at his angle could see a side view of her cleavage and realized he needed to drop his glance quickly before she noticed. “Well, what would your nick name be if you could choose one now?”

Without hesitation Benny beamed with excitement. “Oh, I have been thinking about this for a damn long time. If I could pick my name, it would be Steel Heart.”

She looked at him puzzled, “Steel Heart?” he nodded confidently. “Because your brother is Iron Head and you what, steal women’s hearts?”

“Bingo.” Benny grinned shooting her a finger gun and a wink, clearly enjoying his moment.

The rest of the group looked at each other and revealed in Bennys excitement.

“Seriously man?” Will questioned.

“Oh, because Iron Head is so damn cool?”

“Well, yeah I mean it is.” Will said, shrugging against his brother who was giving him an annoyed look.

“What about you hermosa what would your nick name be?” Frankie asked Sadie softly. Her eyes flicked to him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She brushed her hair behind her left ear and put her mouth to her shoulder to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment while she contemplated the question.

She finally turned back to the group from the little bubble she and Frankie had been enjoying themselves in. “Oh, I don’t think I can answer that right now, that’s too big of a decision. Check back in next time I see you and maybe I’ll have an idea.” She smirked at him, very much hoping there would be a next time she saw him.

Frankie nodded, accepting this answer, and soaking in the attention he got from her. He wanted to know what it was like to have his mouth on her shoulder like she had just done. He thought about pulling her strap down with his teeth and running his mouth along her soft shoulder up to her neck as she gasped for more -.

“Fish!”

Frankie looked frantically, realizing he had completely zoned out and missed whatever just happened. He’s praying he had at least let his eyes fall to table and not leave them on Sadie’s shoulder the whole time. Will leaned over, “Fish did you hear me?”

“No, sorry I must’ve zoned out for a second, what’s up?” He squinted his eyes trying to pay attention as the group smirked at his lack of attention.

Will continued, “Sadie asked where Catfish came from, I said you should be the one to answer that.” He winked.

Frankie slouched down, there goes that relief. “I had a hard time growing facial hair when I was what, twenty-three. Anyway, they said it looked like catfish whiskers.” He slumped further down and tried to avoid the gaze of Sadie. While the guys chuckled at their long-standing joke. She leaned over and put a hand on his arm with a squeeze. She could tell he was uncomfortable and didn’t like the story.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your facial hair is pretty cute now and that’s all that matters.” Sadie missed the glances of the other men as they enjoyed the moment their friend was having with the girl they were trying to set him up with all night. She winked and lingered her glance at the man now blushing.

Frankies eyes burned into her with want and desire, she felt herself flutter suddenly and a warmness grew in her gut as she thought about how long her hand has been on his arm. She pulled away and tucked her hand under her chin, trying to cover how flushed she felt her chest becoming.

Ruining the moment, the group of college boys had started making more noise and gesturing to her. She sat up straight in her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “Well, I’d say that’s my cue to get back to it.” She huffed.

Sadie stood back up and adjusted her apron on her hips. “Thanks for the distraction guys, want me to get you those next pitchers?”

They all nodded with half smiles as she went back to the bar to drop off her water bottle. She then slowly strutted over to the table the college guys were sitting at and stood with her back to the men in the booth.

“Hey guys can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked cautiously, scratching her scalp with the back of her pen and doing whatever she could not to make eye contact with the insufferable boys who were obviously checking her out.

The boys shuffled and stifled their laughs, the one sitting to the right of Sadie had a backwards hat on and blonde hair peeking out. He wore a crisp new white t shirt and his hands had clearly never seen a day of work in his life. “Yeah, we were just wondering which one of those guys over there is your boyfriend?” He nodded back to the booth Frankie and the guys were sitting in.

Sadie looked over her shoulder briefly and then back at the guy whose eyes were like daggers. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’ve been paying them an awful lot more amount of attention than you’ve been giving us, so I just assumed one of them was your boyfriend.” He shrugged with a mischievous smile.

She could tell his intentions were not sincere, so she played his little game in hopes she could move on quickly. “Uh, yeah sorry, my boyfriend is over there with his friends, so I was checking in during my break. So, do you need a refill or any food before the kitchen closes?” She tucked her head down toward her notepad to deflect his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows almost touched the base of her nose with how low she pulled them at his question.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He nodded towards the group again and rubbed his chin with a sly smile. The other two boys chuckled into their fists at the interaction.

Sadie pulled her head up, getting more annoyed by the second. She looked over her shoulder again and caught Frankies’ eyes who seemed to be fixed on the group. “The one with the hat.” She said, trying to be as casual as possible.

The guy looked back at Frankie whose eyes didn’t leave the table despite his friends engaging in conversation again. Frankie could see the smugness radiating off this guy and didn’t trust to take his eyes off him for a second.

He turned back to give his buddies a smug look and they smiled along with him. “He looks like the jealous type.”

She pulled her lips tight, “Yeah I guess so.” Her uncomfortableness grew by the second. Why do they always have so much shit to say she thought to herself. She thought back to Frankie and the guys and made a mental note to write down that order of pitchers she almost forgot about when she was lost in Frankies brown eyes.

“So uh, he wouldn’t really like this then.” With one swift motion he took Sadie’s right wrist and began to pull her down to sit on his lap. She huffed with shock but before she was able to push herself off him a loud voice thundered from behind.

“Hey! Get your damn hands off her!”

The kid jumped in his skin and pushed her up before looking back to see Frankie standing up beside the booth, the three other men’s attention turned as well but more in shock of Frankies abrupt reaction. The boy threw his hands up near his face, clearly shocked by the reaction of Frankie. He was obviously trying to get some sort of reaction, but he was now fearing he was about to be dragged outside by this furious pit-bull of a man who was baring his teeth.

Sadie turned her shocked look from Frankie back to the guy. She smoothed out her apron and drew her head high. “What he fucking said!” She pointed at Frankie as her voice grew towards the boy. “I’ll get your bills.” She huffed and stormed off towards the bar.

Frankie gave the kid one last look of disgust before Benny had him settled back into his seat.

“Okay down boy it’s fine.” Santiago tried to reassure his friend who was still fuming in his seat. “Well, I’d say you definitely have her attention now, I’ll take care of this. You two just make sure he doesn’t go all bull in a China shop in here alright?” Santiago nodded at the Millers who did their best to calm their friend.

Santiago slipped out of the booth and peeked at Sadie behind the bar. Her back was to them, working on the bills for the pricks at the table he is now approaching. The three boys watched him approach them, settling deep into their chairs. He leaned forward between two of them and rested his hands firmly on the edge of the table.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let me buddy there beat the shit out of you, which yes, he could easily do. But just take this moment as an opportunity to grow, you know, learn something and do better next time. Maybe don’t sexually harass bartenders anymore, or anyone for that matter. And definitely don’t intentionally piss off an ex special ops soldier, got it?” They looked at him with side eyes, fearing they may turn to stone if they made direct eye contact with him. He nodded and pulled his hands away, not before leaning in one last time and whispering, “Oh, and you better fucking tip good.” He winked, and the boys nodded.

Santiago sauntered back to the booth just as Sadie wrapped up her computer work and turned to go back to the table. She grabbed a debit machine and marched over with her head held high. She did her best to ignore the agonizing stir Frankies little outburst had given her, and how badly she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it.

The guys watched as she closed off their bills, giving them icy stares and barely acknowledging their existence. The whole time they creepily snuck a peak at the four men all staring with daggers in their eyes as they waited for the three to leave.

Once they were paid up, they said their meek thanks to Sadie, who responded with a cold, “Yeah whatever.” and made their way out of the bar.

Frankie relaxed a bit once he saw the guys leave, but he relaxed even more when Sadie appeared with a tray carrying two pitchers and a small glass.

“Alright, here’s those two pitchers, on Benny and Frankies tabs.” She said as she settled the pitchers in the middle of the table. “And one,” she grabbed the small glass that seemed to be a rum and coke. “thank you, on the house.” She leaned forward and placed the glass in front of Frankie before making eye contact with him and leaning in to rest a small kiss on his cheek. Frankies eyes fell to her mouth, and he wished she had closed the gap. He smiled and said thanks before she pulled away and went back to the bar.

The men all turned to Frankie, eyes wide at his interaction.

“Buddy, that is what I’m talking about.” Santiago cheered.

Benny and Will also showed their celebration as Frankie took a sip of his new drink.

“Now, I’ve been thinking about your closing move alright? She said she doesn’t have any help to close the bar down right?”

Frankie nodded at Santiago, agreeing with this statement.

“Well, there’s your in. Offer to stay and help her close. You and her alone in the empty bar for half an hour. Talk, make sure you show you’re interested. Graze your hand on her hip when you squeeze past her behind the bar. Stuff like that, and then boom once all the work is done. Close the deal.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with excitement. He hasn’t been more focused on a target in years.

Frankie nodded and agreed to this proposition. He sat in silence for a while as the other men talked and thought about how his cheek felt after Sadie kissed it. How it would feel to have that same softness grace his lips. Her hair smelt like lavender when she got that close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and lead her to his lips.

The night wore on without incident. Finally, Sadie came to the table with bills in hand and her machine. She started with Santiago, keying in his total and passing the machine to him while she chatted with the others about how sore her feet were from walking all night. Santiago passed the machine back to her and she watched as the receipt filed out. She pulled it from the machine without looking at the content and held it to her chest.

“Alright, moment of truth. Does Santi think I have a great ass?” She indicated to the boys with a nod that she needed a drum roll. The three men kindly obliged and started drumming their fingers on the table, Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the booth. With a beat she pulled the receipt up to her face and dropped it with an open mouth smile on her face. “He does!”

They all cheered enthusiastically, except for Santiago who waved his hands conceding.

Sadie moved on to Will, and upon pulling his receipt through commented, “Hm, Will is more of a boob guy, good to know.” She smirked at him, and Benny smacked his shoulder with a full body laugh.

“Whoa, whoa that is not fair.” He laughed.

Sadie grinned and started keying in Bennys order. “I’m just kidding you, Willy.” She looked up and winked. He leaned back in his seat with a gapped expression, finding the interaction humorous of course. “I gotta joke a little bit otherwise jobs like this eat you alive.”

They all hummed in response, recalling all the pranks and jokes they used to get into in the service. No matter the circumstances, they still found a way to keep their head straight through some humor.

Sadie finished up all the bills, thanking Frankie with a gushing smile for his overzealous tip.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you all. I hope to take care of you all again soon.” She smiled and the guys said their thanks and started piling out of the booth.

Santiago patted his friend on back, “Aright buddy this is it. Good luck, I hope it works out however would make you the happiest.”

Frankie gave his friends an assuring nod before doing a quick jog to catch up with Sadie as she moved back to the bar.

“Hey Sadie?”

She turned, surprised and pleased that Frankie wasn’t following his friends out the door. “Hey Frankie, what’s up?”

Frankie rubbed his hands on his faded jeans, trying to calm himself once more. “Are you still closing by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. The kitchen left an hour ago and the manager and other bartender will be leaving in a few minutes. Why?”

“Well, I uh, I don’t have any place to be, so I was wondering if you wanted some help?” he said cautiously.

She eyed him through squinted lids and looked at him up and down. Worn out baseball hat that probably hasn’t left his head in decades over curly brown hair. A tight grey T-shirt under a loose flannel shirt. Light jeans that probably didn’t start out that way but have been worn in the sun too long and washed too many times. He seemed harmless enough and he’s treated her well so far tonight, in fact so well she had started finding herself walking by him just to ensure he could catch a glimpse of her through the night.

“So, you want to stay late and help me clean, because you have nowhere else to be?” She asked with a pointed look.

He swallowed deep, “Yeah I just thought you would like the help and maybe the company.” He tried his best to sound light, meanwhile his ears with ringing with nervousness.

She took a beat to think once more, “So you’d help me clean and then we would both get to our own beds at a decent time tonight, right?” She emphasized “own”.

He nodded in agreement, “Sure, of course.”

Sadie started back behind the bar again and Frankie followed like a dog chasing a bone. “Alright Fish, you stay put here and once everyone else is gone we’ll get started.” With that she disappeared behind the employee entrance door.

Frankie sat at the bar by himself for 20 minutes, watching as the other customers exited slowly and as the rest of the staff said their goodnights to Sadie and then retreated to the employee entrance. It was 1:15am when she locked the door and closed the shades to the front windows.

She sauntered over to him, her cowboy boots clicking as she walked. She ran her finger from shoulder to shoulder on Frankies back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sensation. “Let’s get cleaning Mr. Helpful.”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they did just that. They cleaned and restocked the bar, all while recounting vacation stories, and childhood memories. Sadie talked about how she had gone into finance right out of high school and found it unfulfilling so she decided to go back to school in her late twenties to do something she could be proud of. Frankie talked of his friendship with the guys and although they had to go through terrible times to all be together, they were all still thankful they had the opportunity because now they have each other.

All the while Frankie kept Santiagos notes tucked away in head. He would graze his hand on hers when she would pass him something. He held her waist in place as he scooted behind her at the bar. He brushed her hair off her face when her hands were in rubber gloves doing dishes. Each time he had a physical interaction with her she felt that familiar burning sensation she had felt when Frankie had yelled at that prick that got handsy with her. She caught herself staring at his lips as he spoke and trying to position herself in a way that they would have to have some sort of physical contact. She couldn’t even understand why she was doing it all. She just wanted him to want her so badly.

Frankie finished his half of the cleaning list and approached Sadie who was at the pool table. She was leaned over wiping down the last part of the wood finished edges. He held his gaze on her ass and admired how plump it looked in her tight jeans. He shook his head to throw the devilish thoughts out of it and met her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Well, that’s that. Thank you for all the help.” She threw the cloth into a bucket on the floor and leaned against the pool table with her arms crossed.

He took a few steps in and placed his left hand on the pool table beside her, resting some of his weight on it. “It was no problem hermosa. I had fun.” He smiled at her.

She squinted her eyes slightly, “That’s the second time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”

He looked her up and down shyly, “Beautiful.” He said softly, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an extremely noticeable way. Frankie grinned at this as he checked out her cleavage quickly. She looked down at her feet for a moment, trying to determine the best way to respond to such a compliment. She lifted her head back up at him and asked, “Do you call all your friends beautiful?”

Frankie shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. “No,” he paused “Just you, and Benny of course.” He chuckled.

She rolled her head back with her laugh, “Well I don’t blame you; he is VERY pretty.” She grinned back at him.

“Truthfully though,” he leaned in slightly, trying to gage her physical response. “I’m not sure I still want to be your friend. I think I may want a little more than that.”

Sadie felt herself flush, “Well would I still get the discount on the helicopter rides?” she asked softly, intensifying her gaze.

He leaned in further, staring at her lips as he spoke. “Of course, it also comes with lots of other perks too.”

“Hm, like what?” She tilted her head up, catching a glimpse of him moistening his lips as she spoke.

“Like this.” He leaned in fully and latched his mouth onto hers.

It was a soft kiss, not wanting to read too much into things. She didn’t pull away, but he was still unsure if she was just being friendly. He broke the kiss and pulled his face away a few inches to look at her. She unfolded her arms and grazed one finger along his jaw line.

“That seems like a pretty good perk, but you said there’d be lots right?” She lowered her eyebrows and parted her lips, meeting his gaze.

He smirked and stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips as hers moved around his neck. They both opened their mouths for one another and deepened the kiss. It was hungry and passionate. He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her lower back and moaned at the warmth. Sadie glided her right hand around the curls at the top of Frankies neck and slid her left up and down his chest.

Frankie moved his hands lower to grab her plush thighs and in a swift motion hoisted her up to be seated on the edge of the pool table. She parted her legs for him, and he stood flush with her chest heaving against his.

She pulled away to start planting desperate kisses on his neck and he rubbed his hands on her ass through her tight jeans as she made her way up to swirl her tongue around in his left ear. He moaned at the feeling and her deep breathing in his ear. He ducked his head, and she pulled back so he could slot his mouth on hers again. He pulled her closer, so her aching core was pressed up against his stiff boner in his jeans. She gasped at the sensation of feeling how hard he was, and he revealed in the warmth radiating off her.

Frankie pulled off to start kissing down her neck. He moved the hair off her left shoulder with his hand as he nipped at her supple skin. He made his way down to her shoulder and groaned at how soft she was against his lips, better than he had imagined earlier. He nipped at her and grabbed the thin white strap with his teeth to pull it over and off to hang on her arm. He licked a stripe from the top of her shoulder up her neck and brought his hand up to palm her breast.

Sadie moaned and smiled with her eyes closed. “Okay, okay Frankie.” He pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “I just started here two weeks ago, and while I haven’t had the opportunity to read the employee handbook yet, I am fairly positive there will be something in there along the lines of don’t fuck the customers on the pool table.” He grinned at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

He hummed, “I don’t know, didn’t you say something about ending up in our own beds tonight?” He emphasized own as she had done earlier.

She rolled her eyes, “Well I guess I’ve been persuaded otherwise.”

He reached his hand up and pulled the strap of her top back onto her shoulder, grazing his finger down her arm to rest his hand on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, well let’s get going then, because I’ve still got lots of perks to show you.” He popped his eyebrows up and gave her a knowing smile.

The energy between the two was electric as he helped her slide down the pool table back onto the floor. She took his hand and led him to the back to slip out of the employee entrance, locking the door as she left. They walked hand in hand to her red car. Based on the boots and the car, he was beginning to figure out her favourite colour. This theory was confirmed when he slid into her passenger seat and noticed the red fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. He smiled to himself; he had fuzzy dice in his truck too.

The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. They stole glances here and there and nodded along to the radio, each of them growing with excitement for what was to come. Frankie rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed tiny circles on the exposed part of her leg through a hole in her jeans. She silently thanked herself for her choice of pants today as the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking her thigh made her core ache for more. She peeked down at his hands and noticed just how large his fingers were. She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and tried to focus on the lights along the streets.

When they arrived at her apartment, it was after 2am. He followed her up the stairs, not wanting to keep too far of a distance from her as his hands ached to feel her again.

“This is me.” She nodded to the apartment door coming up on their right. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door, her nerves getting higher by the second. Finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. She stepped into her apartment and stood in front of the door holding it open for Frankie.

He nodded and walked into the apartment, looking around as he did. There was a white kitchen with an eat in island. The island was covered in notebooks, textbooks, and pens. He imagined her hunched over working on her assignments and grinned to himself. The rest of the room had a small living area with a bright red couch facing a tv. The walls were decorated with framed floral photos and there were a variety of house plants along the windowsill. He stood near the island as she closed the door and put her keys and purse on the counter by the wall.

Sadie rounded the corner of the island, and he turned his head towards her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her in. She wrapped her hands around his sides, and he pulled her face into his with his right hand. Planting a desperate kiss to her plush lips. She released her lips from his and slowly brought her hand to his, leading him further into the apartment, into her bedroom.

The room was bright white with a white comforter. There were pops of colour with more floral accents adorned the walls. The makeup vanity had large circular bulbs around a round mirror with makeup scattered along the vanity top. Sadie walked over to the bedside table where a blush pink lamp sat and flicked on the light. Frankie admired how she looked in the dim lighting and rested his hands in his pockets as he watched her sit on the bed and take her boots off. Grunting as she popped the snug boots off her feet. She wiggled her toes at the relief from being on her feet all evening.

She stood up and rounded the bed towards him, he gave her a sheepish grin and brushed her hair off her shoulder before cupping her jaw with his hand.

She beamed up at him, “Hi.” She giggled.

Frankie smirked, “Hey you.” And leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on her.

He started backing her up towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the edge. He peeled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the floor behind him. She reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, only breaking the kiss to move his shirt past and over his shoulders. He quickly grabbed his hat off his head and shifted it from one hand to the other as he pulled his arms out of his shirt. Placing it back on his head backwards. She ran her hands down his bare chest, stopping to rub her fingers on his treasure trail above his jeans.

The moonlight shone in her window above her bed through the light white curtains. He rubbed his hands along her back until he reached the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He did quick work to remove her strapless tan bra as well and tossed it aside. Frankie broke away slightly, enough so he could gawk at her supple breasts.

“Fuck, you are so sexy hermosa.” He pressed their bare chests against each other and slowly laid her down on the bed as she scooted backwards so her head was near the pillows.

He hovered above her and broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans. He slid them down her legs, grabbing her socks as pulled them off. He slowly crawled back up the bed admiring her tan body underneath him. He slid a finger up and down her thigh before grazing it over her entrance atop her lace white panties. He hummed to himself, “Already this wet for me baby?”

“Oh Frankie, I started getting wet for you the minute you took care of those idiots at the bar for me.” She answered, moving her hips slightly to get more pressure from Frankies finger.

“Mmm, yeah? You like it when I take care of you?” She nodded, “You want me to take care of you right now?”

She looked desperate now, the teasing was getting the better of her. “Fuck, yes, Frankie please.”

He took her panties in his hands and yanked them down her legs, the teasing had seemingly stopped and he was going full tilt now.

He dropped down onto the bed and spread her legs with his rough hands, lining his face up with her dripping core, aching for relief. He took one last look at her body illuminated by the lamplight and licked a long stripe between her folds. She moaned in response. He started off so light, just tickling her with his tongue. It made her shiver, feeling his tongue dance around lightly between her thighs. She moved her hands to his head, slightly tugging at the soft curls peeking out under his hat. He continued this slow pace until she felt herself arching her back and reaching behind herself to the headboard.

Sadie suddenly felt a wave of pleasure as her orgasm overtook her and she moaned. Only as she started did he finally start applying pressure, causing her orgasm to linger for far longer than she’s used to. When she came down from her high, he picked up his pace and sucked on her clit until it popped out of his mouth.

“Fuck, Frankie. That was amazing.” She ran her hand over her face and tried to snap back into the moment.

He continued licking her core, “Mm not done with you yet baby.”

Frankie traced his fingers up her thigh before burying two deep in her pussy. She whined at the sudden sensation. He curled his fingers tightly inside her and licked her clit. She couldn’t help but buck her hips up into him as she writhed beneath his face. In and out he pulled his fingers, curling them more and more until she felt the snap in her gut again and flowed into her second orgasm. He pumped her still, letting her ride it out on his face.

When she finally came to a still and stopped moaning his name, he plucked his fingers out and wiped his face with his other hand. He crawled up the bed and met her gaze.

Sadie grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him in for a needy kiss. “How the fuck do you still have pants on?” She asked with a smile as she looked down between them.

Frankie rolled off her and swiftly tugged his pants down with his socks. Leaving him in his tight black Clavin Klein boxer briefs. He began to roll back onto her, “Uh uh, those too Fish.” She pointed at his boxers, and he smiled, rolling back over to pull them away and fling them off the bed. She took a wide look at his size and could feel the dampness pooling between her legs. “Fucking hell Frankie, how did you get the nickname Fish and not- fucking horse with that thing?” She gawked.

He smiled and rolled himself back onto her, “Well I don’t go showing it off or anything. Hey do you have?”

“Oh yeah in that drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand with the lamp on it and he leaned over to pull it open and pluck a condom package out of it. He quickly rolled it on and lined himself up at her entrance.

“You ready baby?” he asked playfully.

She nodded and bit her lip, he leaned down and met her lips with his as he reached his hand down, guiding himself into her.

Her breath hitched and broke the kiss as she felt the stretch of him. She met his eye contact with a wide look as she was overwhelmed by the feeling. He bit his lip and groaned, “You feel so good hermosa.”

He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, going deeper each time until she was completely filled up. She grabbed his neck to steady herself underneath him as she tried to focus and not be completely tipped over the edge immediately. But she was already so overstimulated by the two orgasms. He picked up his pace and crashed his lips to hers. They made out desperately as he rocked into her, hitting his thighs against her hips. It was all tongue and teeth and moans between them.

“Oh baby, I’m so close.” His words falling from his mouth with barely any air left in his lungs.

She was dancing on the edge of immense pleasure as he gave two final deep thrust and grunted as he filled the condom. The way his cock swelled during his orgasm pushed her over the edge and she came crashing down into another for herself while he slowly rocked his hips, bringing them both down. He collapsed onto her chest and exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he rolled off her and laid his forearm on his head as she panted beside him.

“That was,” he started.

“Fucking incredible.” She finished for him.

He smiled and rolled over, giving a loving kiss to her forehead before propping himself up and exiting the room to find the bathroom.

Sadie collected herself enough to ease her tired body under the comforter and turn off the lamp. Frankie came back in and smiled at her snuggled up, still lit up by the moonlight above her. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest while his arm found its place behind her.

She drew little circles on his chest as she enjoyed how content the moment was.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow. Or today I guess.” He chuckled as he looked at the time on his watch.

She grinned, “No I don’t think so.”

“Hm, would you want to hang out?”

“Sure, that’d be nice Frankie.” She smiled to herself as she warmed her face on his chest.

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand, “Anything you got in mind?”

She propped herself up to look at him and he met her eyes. “Well, I have had this evening long dream of going up in a helicopter with a handsome pilot.” She winked.

Frankie gave out a huffed chuckle, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier fic

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chernabogs · 24 hours

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ames you are COOKING (or should i say, planting???lol) SO HARD with the flower language prompts, 😭💖💞💖💞✨✨am really out here sobbing and crying over them like im watering these flowers with my Tears lol

so here i am requesting for these prompts: rosemary, begonia, pink camellia, dark crimson rose, purple hyacinth, blue salvia, zinnia

i picked these based on your initial tag about Maleficia and zinnia flower,,,, I SEE THE VISION so im requesting it now lol but also picked on prompts that reminded of Meleanor and Malleus,,, 😭i think therapy bills should be forwarded to Draconias instead, istg all they ever do is be in grief and loss /lh😭

if its too many, please feel free to choose whichever prompt you like and take your time in writing !! ☺️💞🌹✨✨

Ohhh I did my best here I promise LMAOOO. I tied in some easter eggs with other works i've done (namely Monody, Stasis, and Labours Gained). I hope you enjoy my absolute monstrous dump about Maleficia, whom I will die on a hill for tyvm

EMPTY CHAIRS

Inc: Maleficia, Meleanor, Levan, Lilia, Malleus (whole gang wow) WC: 4.2k :))) Warnings: Just some death, but I swear it ends on a happy note this time. Flowers: Begonia (How ghosts help the living live a little), Pink Camellia (Where I notice your absence the most), Dark Crimson Rose (The grave I visit everyday), Purple Hyacinth (The worst pain of my whole life and how it healed… multiple times) , Zinnia (The seats at the table and how they eventually became empty… multiple times) Summary: Moments where Maleficia was convinced her family was cursed, and a few times she truly wished this to not be the case.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

Their family may be cursed.

For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of such a matter in her mind. It had first passed briefly with the death of her father—the second monarch to take over after the initial uprising—and the subsequent death of her mother a few weeks later. No one was surprised when she went. Her grief for the loss of her love had been so profound that it had flooded Briar Nation, drowning both cattle and crops in her dismay. Maleficia had postponed her own coronation as the cleanup occurred. It felt ill-boding to be crowned while bodies were floating down the mountain pass.

The thought had returned once more when her husband vanished at sea, leaving her with a newborn hatchling on her own. Her love had been a strong headed man with adventure burning in his blood—it had been what drew her to him to begin with. That, and he was the only ex-sailor she knew who was bold enough to try and hold her for ransom. Wiping the deck with him had captured his heart—and the fact that he had been a dragon settled the Senate to a degree. But the sea is a fickle mistress, and although her love had skill and he had drive, even the most knowledgeable of sailors can never predict its next move.

She had not flooded Briar Nation like her mother had, and she had held herself together before her people, although the empty space in her bed and at the dinner table deepened the wound nightly. It was in the quiet moments alone when it was just her and Meleanor that she felt his absence the strongest.

In the beginning she loathed him for leaving her. Whenever she cradled their daughter as the hatchling shrieked and protested, blowing flame, and biting for flesh, she loathed him. Whenever she dealt with the Senate or another disaster befalling the Nation, she loathed him.

But when Meleanor learned to fly, learned to run, and shifted into her two-legged form for the first time, the hatred began to fade. Because although he had vanished into the mists on a voyage destined to fail, he had left her with the greatest treasure she could ever have—and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Perhaps this sentimentality is why when Meleanor dragged a thin, sickly-looking bat into the halls of Black Scale, Maleficia heard her out.

“Please let him stay!” The princess had asked, green eyes wide as she grasped her mother’s skirts. “Please, mother!”

The other child had shrunk behind Meleanor, but shadows could not hide the burning defiance in the boy's eyes—a gaze of confrontation, and one that nothing truly innocent should hold. This is why she lacked the heart to say no. She quietly hoped that Lilia, as she would name him, would be the one to slay whatever reaper was following them—that the burning anger she had seen would ignite a fire that would cleanse the family of its suffocating misery.

With the presence of Meleanor, Lilia, and eventually Levan, the silent table Maleficia had sat at for so long soon became a place of raucous conversation again. Although she found herself scolding the three children more than once (especially Levan for his non-subtle attempts at discarding food), the lingering warmth she would feel as she gazed at the trio made her confident that this family curse was on the bend.

Naturally, it didn’t last.

The first time she heard of the Silver Owls, Meleanor was 200 years old and more focused on warding off suitors than an unmarked ship. Maleficia had allowed her daughter to indulge by instead consulting with an advisor alone in the dark of her office. The concern lingering in the advisor's words would grow to haunt her.

“Perhaps it is temporary?” She posited, trying her best to remain optimistic on the matter. Plenty of people came and went from Cape Sunrise. A single unmarked ship with a few scraggly sailor’s was not something she felt the need to stress over. The advisor seemed doubtful on the matter.

“But they have tools. Items designed to dig up our soil,” they had insisted, but Maleficia dismissed the concerns with a wave and a blase response.

“Let them try. They will not be able to break the first layer of our land.”

___________________________________

The first one to leave the table had been Levan. There were many soldiers and nobles who vanished before he did but, selfishly, he was the first one that Maleficia really felt the absence of. Levan had grown up from a non-confrontational child to her son-in-law, a general of the princess and a father to the future heir. His compassion had not faded despite the years of war that now tore the Nation apart. Maleficia knew this by the way she came across him one night, cradling his egg so gently while murmuring against its shell.

When he had noticed her, he had not corrected himself; if anything, he held the egg even closer. They had not exchanged too many words that night, but she sat next to him on the bench in the gardens, the silence speaking volume of her support to his decisions.

“You will return.” It was not a question—it was a demand. Her voice held the authority of a queen who had seen many, many losses in her long life. Levan had remained silent for a moment longer as his lips brushed against the shell of her grandson's egg.

“Always,” was the promise he made, and the last words Maleficia heard from him. When they didn’t receive notice for several days after he left, the conclusion was drawn that he was either dead, or the closest one could be to it. Meleanor held herself well in lieu of this information, as had Maleficia.

But the empty seat felt an ill omen.

___________________________________

The next one to leave the table had been Meleanor. When she was younger, she used to rest her head on Maleficia’s lap as her mother had fixed her hair. She would ramble on about her day and what she got up to with the two boys in the nonsensical fashion that many children do. Maleficia had listened with amusement, although her mind had always been half-focused on what she needed to do for her meetings the next day.

The regret of not giving Meleanor her full, undivided attention sunk in deep when she felt her daughter’s magic cut off. The bond in their family was intrinsically woven to allow them to get a sense of whether the other members were still alive. If asked, Maleficia might say it’s something of a dragon trait. Most of the time it served to be a blessing to allow her to know her family is alive and well.

When it cut off mid-emergency meeting, the abruptness had been so profound that she nearly collapsed then and there. Her breath had hitched, her words stuttering to a stop as she stared wide-eyed at the Senate members surrounding her. At first, she hoped it was simply a fluke—a disruption in the magic—until she didn’t feel it return and the horrible, tar-like panic of a mother when her child goes missing welled up in her heart. She was tearing out of the room before any of the Senate members even had a chance to speak, screaming for her guards and her soldiers to tell her what was going on at Wild Rose.

Her daughter, who spent her childhood running through the forests and laughing in the face of suitors. Her daughter, whose hair she would braid and then re-braid again when the girl somehow got burs in it. Her daughter, who was set to become a mother herself and experience all the precious moments Maleficia had.

Her daughter, whose body wasn’t even recovered at the end of it all.

___________________________________

The final one to leave the table was Lilia. In wake of the princesses passing, Malleus’ egg was put in the cradle tower, and Maleficia was designated to spirit him into hatching. She felt the faint connection of their magic from within the thick shell that guarded his body. His warmth, the subtle movements he made; they were all indicators that he was still alive and well despite his tumultuous arrival.

But Maleficia didn’t know if he would oblige. Hatchlings often needed the love of both parents to be shepherded forward—and Maleficia, now over eight hundred years old, already felt the strain of her magic from the conflicts going on in her Nation. There was no doubt that she held love for her grandson—but a lingering fear that her love wouldn’t be enough burned in her mind. This is what made her turn to Lilia, to send him on his quest around the world to try and find an additional means to bring the young prince forward.

For the first few decades, it worked well. Maleficia held the egg on a nightly basis and poured as much of her love and magic into it as she could. The egg consumed it all in a greedy fashion, demanding more every time she returned to the tower. One would think that Malleus was starving within by the way he pulled, and tore, and ripped at her powers to fuel his own development.

Then he ceased feeding. She recalls the first night it happened; everything had been going well, until the connection was suddenly severed, and the green glow within the egg dulled back into a faint tint of color. Maleficia had initially dismissed it as a one-off event. Until it happened again, and again, and again.

There’s a curious sense of panic that fills someone when they do everything they can to no avail. The panic she felt came in the form of a privatized breakdown in the tower. For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of a curse in her mind. Now, she was beginning to consider that it was not her family who was cursed, but rather just herself.

First it came for her father, and her mother shortly after. Then, when it grew hungry again, it ate through her husband and that of her daughters. Then it came for Meleanor herself, and now whatever reaper followed them was looming over her shoulder as she held Malleus’ egg and begged him to take something.

Pleas fell from the lips of a monarch as she rocked the egg, stroked its shell so softly, whispering to just eat a little more, just take a little more. But the egg had remained as cold and aloof as it had for several nights now. Her desperation mounted in an order to Baul to summon Lilia back—to slay whatever reaper was following them before it pried the last of her bloodline from her hands.

Her hopes of his role as the vanquisher of death came in an explosive hatching that she was informed of after it occurred. When she requested for Lilia to be brought to Black Scale to be reinstated in his role in his efforts, the Senate had then informed her that Lilia Vanrouge would never step foot in the capital again.

And so, in a span of mere moments, the final seat was emptied—and Maleficia found herself alone once more.

___________________________________

Grandchildren are the best reminders of the beauty and innocence of childhood.

When Malleus was first brought to her after he hatched, she didn’t want to touch him. The purple hue of his stomach and the way his green gaze darted around, drinking in the new world he emerged to, reminded her so much of Meleanor that she wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. The hurt that smouldered in her heart ignited back into a flame that found her turning a cold shoulder to the hatchling.

“Go clean him. He has amniotic fluid all over.” She remembers ordering, voice deceptively calm for the turmoil happening within. The wet nurse that was hired obliged as the hatchling shrieked and protested the frequently changing environment around him. His cries made Maleficia clench her jaw tighter as she stared resolutely at the battle plans drawn before her, her hands gripping the table enough to turn her knuckles white.

A few times she went to him in the beginning. The encounters lasted only as long as Maleficia could tolerate seeing how similar he looked to Meleanor before she would depart and leave him in the care of his wet nurse once more. Guilt fought with anger in her heart about the circumstances that she found herself in and her inability to overcome them. She could feel the ghost of her daughter chastising her in the corner for being so cowardly in her approach.

The breakthrough arrived when Malleus became ill. Grieves—a fever-like condition that affected fae children in particular—resulted in Maleficia sitting with her grandson one night as the exhausted wet nurse was excused for a long overdue break. She held him on her lap in the dark as his small form fought his fever, whispering how the stars that looked down from above were the eyes of the people who loved him, keeping him safe in this world. Her voice had cracked as she spoke, and it was only when a small whine left him did she realize she was hugging him tight to her body.

“I am so sorry,” she had choked out, unsure if the apology was for the hold she had or the neglect she had given so far. “Please forgive me.”

Malleus had twisted in her arms, small wings fluttering before he settled himself down and began to doze. He had already forgotten what upset him to begin with. She wished it would always be that way—but she knew that was nothing but a vague hope.

She loathed Meleanor for leaving. Whenever she cradled Malleus as the hatchling threw his tantrums, blowing flame, and biting for flesh as all children seem to do, she loathed her. Whenever she dealt with another part of the war or signed another treaty alone, she loathed her.

But when Malleus scrambled onto her lap mid-Senate meeting, chased after courtiers, and flew for the first time (admittedly, into a flock of pigeons), Maleficia loved her. Because although like her father she had vanished in an ill-fated decision, she had left a small reminder that she was never truly gone. Maleficia could comfort Malleus, could see the ghost of his mother in his clever little eyes, and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Meleanor’s death had proved to be far worse than anything else—but her gift of the small dragon in her lap felt like the first steps towards recovery again. So, she had kissed between his horns that night and promised to herself that she would do all that she could to give him a future free of the misery that plagued their family thus far.

___________________________________

In the aftermath, she spent time with him whenever she could. Via dinners, via having him sit in on meetings, via walks in the gardens—whenever she could, she would be there. However, despite her newfound presence changing some things for the better, she remained unable to quell the curiosity that burned in her grandson's mind.

She found him in the mausoleum once. He was standing on the toes of his mother with his small hand touching her stone-carved face. Maleficia had not been to the mausoleum since the boy hatched so many years ago. The raw memories still stirred in her heart and seeing him look up at his mother with such a gaze of innocent adoration did nothing but unsettle her more.

When he noticed her, his face had lit up into a smile as he hopped back down and pointed up to one of the other statues. “This is grandfather?”

Maleficia’s gaze slid to where he was pointing. A strong jaw, a dangerous glint in stone-etched eyes, and a faint smirk painted the picture of the man she had once loved and held so dearly many years ago. Maleficia nodded. Malleus, taking this as encouragement, then ran back to the other statue he had been touching with his small hands.

“And this is mother?”

Again, Maleficia nodded. The painful similarities between Malleus and his mother were more apparent when they were side to side. If Maleficia were to squint, she could mistake Malleus as a younger Meleanor: the same horns, same hair length, even the same streak of mischief that got both into so much trouble.

Malleus had hummed thoughtfully before stepping down again. “Do you miss them?”

A deceptively innocent question. Of course she missed them. All she had left of her family was one grandson and three empty coffins: a husband at sea, a daughter in the hands of humans, and a son-in-law somewhere in the moors. “I do,” she offered back. “I miss them greatly.”

Malleus had asked her why, then. Children like him were filled with innocence and wonder about the world. He had no knowledge of the bodies that were lost, or the tragedies that had predicated his birth. Her reply did nothing but fuel an unease in the boy, for moments after she offered it, he ran back to her and threw his small arms around her waist.

When he hugged her, he clung with a ferocity that was baffling for his size. Her hands rested on his head and stroked his hair soothingly as she had done with Meleanor many times before she guided him away from the tombs and the memory of family he never met.

She should visit them more often now.

___________________________________

She rediscovers that there’s a privilege in watching someone grow. Lilia’s gradual return into their lives helps ease the stress of raising a child again in her older age, which is partially why she turns a blind eye every time Malleus slips out of the palace to visit the man. She’s honoured to observe in a more passive manner the way her grandson changes and grows as a person. She watches him go from spiteful towards humans to more amiable with the arrival of Lilia’s adopted son. As he grows before her eyes, she begins to see less of Meleanor and Levan in his features and more of just Malleus—the quiet, albeit arrogant, boy that was hers.

Time goes by faster as she ages alongside him. One moment he’s clinging to her skirts, and the next he’s off to NRC, and then finally, 178 years have passed like the blink of an eye. She used to bemoan how slow time was—and now she wishes it to ease off a bit.

She’s sitting in the gazebo in the gardens for reprieve, a novel in hand as the screaming of insects choruses a song for her amusement. The aroma of flowers surrounds her and for a moment she feels utter peace in the world. The summer is ending and there are no celebrations or events to concern herself with. For the first time in what feels like eons, Maleficia Draconia can breathe.

The sound of someone approaching puts a pause in this.

She lowers her book to peer over at whoever is coming, hoping silently it isn’t an advisor or a courtier seeking out an audience on the sly. Fortunately, the sight of two horns and a scowling face turning the corner nullifies this as she turns back to her book.

“Finally decided to see the sun?” She muses as she hears him stepping onto the gazebo platform. She waits for his response, but only comes to feel surprised when Malleus kneels by where she sits and does something that he hasn’t done in a long time now—he places his head in her lap. At his age, his body is too tall now to really kneel efficiently at her side, but by the gods does the boy try as he hits his head right down. Her hand comes up on instinct to brush strands of his dark hair behind his ear as he looks over the gardens, his shoulders tense with stress.

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of screaming insects from beyond before Malleus speaks.

“The gardens look atrocious.”

Maleficia raises an eyebrow as she lowers her book to look at where he’s staring. Her hand continues to stroke his head soothingly as she huffs a soft laugh. “Our groundskeepers are going for a more ‘untamed’ look this season.”

“I have counted twenty-six thistles in the minute I have been here.” Malleus shoots back as his hand comes to rest by his face. “It’s late in the season. They might be growing lazy.”

“Nonsense. You know how hard working they are. You spent ample amounts of time with them when you were younger.” She fails to hide the smile teasing on her lips with this comment. Malleus’ temper tantrums had landed him in more than enough problems in his youth. Problems which were often rectified by a gentle lesson of how hard it is to fix up his messes—garden destruction included.

Malleus deigns her with a unprincely snort in response. They fall back into a warm silence as she keeps her hand on his head and returns her attention to her book. She knows that something is on his mind, but she retains her silence both to give him an opportunity to speak, and to enjoy the moment that they’re having. In the privacy of the garden, they can get away with this rare display of familial affection.

She feels him sigh as his eyes flutter close before he speaks up. “Do you ever feel… unease?”

“Unease?” She hums quietly as she turns a page. “On many occasions I have, yes. Unease tends to go hand in hand with some of the things I have dealt with.”

She knows he doesn’t mean in the sense of his royal duties. Malleus is an unusually quiet and introverted boy—but she had noticed him being more so the past week as summer began to inch towards its end. He opens his eyes and sighs again before withdrawing to sit back on his knees.

Maleficia wisely closes her book and sets it down before affixing him with as stern of a look as she can muster without chuckling. “Sighing and moping in the corners does little to aid me in providing advice.”

Malleus’ gaze goes upwards to stare at the ceiling of the gazebo before his expression drops to a pout. “I am feeling reluctant to return to NRC.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Maleficia quietly reaches her hand out to brush his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the scale pattern beneath. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut at the gesture as his pout remains present.

“Three years have passed now, and I have yet to feel included in the school environment. Spending my days with those I already know from here hardly feels like an efficient use of time.” His jaw clenches. “Every effort I make to form any sort of connection to others feels like it’s a pointless endeavour at this rate.”

“Malleus, you must be patient with these things. It takes time for people to warm up to the likes of us. You must simply continue being yourself, and the right people will make the effort to get to know you. I understand it may seem upsetting right now, but you must simply keep trying your best.” A faint smile touches her lips despite the worry gnawing at her heart. She wishes she could do more, but she also understands that these are things he must figure out himself. “You’re going to this school to gain new experiences and see the world beyond our little Valley without the Senate looming over you. Things will work out in the end.”

Malleus’ body seems to relax at her words as he opens his eyes again. His expression eases to his usual neutral look as he nods slightly. “... yes, I suppose you are correct.”

“I often am.” She pinches his cheek lightly, causing the scowl to immediately return to his face as he jerks to avoid her grasp, making her laugh in turn. “Besides, are you not excited to see Lilia, Silver, and Sebek more often again? Well. More often than you do already.”

A pointed look has him averting her gaze as she picks her book up again. His demeanour reminds her of Meleanor, but the similarities no longer ache when she considers them. This was Malleus—her grandson, not his mother, nor his father—and she was eager to see the person he was still destined to become. “Now, you should be packing, should you not? We don’t need the crisis we had last year where we were all hunting down books for you last minute.”

Malleus groans softly before rising to his feet and brushing his pants off. He presses a brief kiss to her forehead, coaxing another smile from her lips before he pulls away.

“Yes, grandmother,” he grumbles with all the moodiness of an embarrassed teenage boy, and Maleficia can’t help but feel happiness at seeing it. Cursed or not, she will continue to enjoy these moments of joy as long as she may have them.

#twst #twst fanfiction #maleficia draconia #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #40 min spent on deciding a header alone #'hey amy she hasnt even been in the game yet' and?#listen maleficia may be 0% in-game but she is 100% in my brain thank u #obviously some flexibility with the facts here idk who malleus' grandpa is or what maleficias thoughts were during malleus' upbringing #but AAAAAAA listen... her.#lian i hope i did u proud i even made it a happy ending LMAO

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whencyclopedia · 8 hours

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Origins of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederacy

The Haudenosaunee, also known as the Iroquois Confederacy, Iroquois Five Nations, or the Iroquois League, was one of the most powerful Native American polities north of the Rio Grande. They arrived in the historical record in the 16th-century CE when European colonists began interacting with the Haudenosaunee's five constituent nations – the Onondaga, Mohawk (who called themselves the Kanienkehaka), Cayuga, Oneida, and Seneca – in both war and trade. The Haudenosaunee as a nation had a huge impact on the colonial and revolutionary, and Early Republic eras of the United States as well as on the early history of Canada – not to mention their importance in indigenous geopolitics before and after European colonization of the Americas.

Despite their importance to history, how and when the Huadensaunee confederacy began has become a matter of much debate over the decades. The Haudenosaunee themselves have a long-standing oral tradition that describes the origins of their famed confederacy, as well as the constitution the five nations created upon forming this league. Yet, this tradition gives no indication as to the exact year these events occurred. In an attempt to shed light on the matter, many scholars have turned to archaeology and clues hidden in the historical record to determine the date the Haudenosaunee formed.

Hiawatha & the Great Peacemaker

According to Haudenosaunee oral histories, a long time ago, the nations that would one day form their confederacy were at constant war with one another. A Seneca man named Hiawatha lost his wife and daughters to this violence. Inconsolable, he began to wander, and somewhere in the Kanienkehaka's territory, he came across a man named Dekanawida.

Known as the Great Peacemaker, Dekanawida is credited with the vision of uniting the Iroquois nations and bringing peace to their lands. Like many prophets throughout history, the historical figure of Dekanawida has had many miracles attributed to him. According to tradition, prior to his birth, Dekanawida's mother received a vision in a dream that she would conceive a son and he would go on to plant the Great Tree of Peace. Nine months later, still a virgin, she gave birth to Dekanawida. Worried about the child's seemingly supernatural provenance, Dekanawida's grandmother urged her daughter to kill him. Though they tried to drown the infant twice, he returned both times.

While we know very little of the historical Dekanawida, it is clear that he was not Haudenosaunee by birth. Born in the Wendat Nation of southern Ontario, Dekanawida seems to have left his home for reasons unknown. When he enters the story of the Great Peace, we find him living with the Kanienkehaka, the easternmost of the Haudenosaunee nations, where he meets Hiawatha.

When Dekanawida saw the grief from which Hiawatha suffered, he offered to help, performed what would come to be known as the condolence ceremony; first drying the eyes of the weeping Hiawatha, then opening the ears of the grieving man, and lastly, clearing Hiawatha's throat. Now able to see, hear, and speak, Hiawatha could take in and understand Dekanawida's vision for a great peace, and the two men then set out together to spread the word.

#History #Haudenosaunee #Iroquois #Hiawatha #WHE #[#]

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level-up-12 · 4 hours

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There's no need to hide

Word count: 1009 words James/Regulus. First wizarding war AU (they're both stuck together in the same safe house)

⋆｡°✩˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗⋆｡°✩

“No, this won’t do.” James stands up, “We are not spending today of all days moping.”

“We’re not moping, we’re just talking.” Regulus replies, slightly indignant.

“All we ever talk about are big, sad, mushy feelings.” James dramatically flails his hands around, almost as if shooing the sentiment away.

“Big, mushy, feelings.” Regulus repeats, he tries to sound offended but the tug on his lips says otherwise.

“Well yeah, everyone you know thinks you’re dead, terribly sorry we can’t do anything about that by the way. And me, well, where the fuck do we start, you know?”

Regulus looks back at him, slowly blinking. the sickly yellow lightbulb casting down its shadows.

He doesn’t need to think about that right now.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

The air was filled with the sense of slight delirium. Nothing felt real. Nothing had consequence. James felt like he could run away, sprint off into the fields and pretend the last twenty two years of his life were a lapse of chemicals his mind made up in a haze.

The depression that hung over him all week threatened to spill into hysterical exuberance. But James didn’t care, it’s been so long since he had someone near him, someone that wasn’t decades older than him. Someone that talked to him, not just through him. Someone that didn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t.

He’ll let himself get drunk on whatever endorphins his body, for whatever reason, was dishing out.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

“Look James, maybe we should call it a night-“

“Nonsense! It’s your birthday, we’re staying up. We’re transforming some stale bread into equally stale cake. We’re playing music your obnoxious little self wouldn’t be caught dead listening to, and we’re dancing.”

He taps his wand. The tinny radio spluttered to life. The glittery synths were scratchy and soft. It filled the room instantly.

Regulus looks back horrified, his eyes widened.

He stretches his hand out for Regulus to take.

Regulus stares down at it, then back at James’ face “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“Oh c’mon, I used to do this all the time with Peter.”

“Is that all what you four did all day? dance around with each other?”

“Mostly, amongst other things. The worst of us was Remus, man had two left feet and fingernails like talons.” he fondly remembers the way Remus’ grip dug into his shoulders and ‘Moony, can you for the love of everything try and be less rigid’ while everyone else in the common room cheered them on, well, mostly Sirius.

Regulus snorts, “I should’ve known. And to think of all the time I wondered what on earth you people did.”

“Well, we had to, the marauders couldn’t embarrass themselves in front of the ladies.”

James’ hand was still outstretched. He wiggled his fingers again, “Come on. Can’t you just humor me?”

“You know it’s my birthday, you should be humoring me.” Still, something in his expression softens - he sighs, unfolds his arms, and carefully places his hand into James’ own.

The soft music and layered vocals had filtered throughout the room. The noise of it seemingly amplified in the tiny living room.

James slowly put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder - the unexpected warmth that rushed through him made him pause. He realizes, this was the first time he’s touched another person in months.

(Eight months to be exact, the last time he saw Marlene, drenched in black hoods at an Order meeting. She gave him a full body hug and squeezed all the oxygen out of him.)

Still, he slides his other hand across Regulus’ palm. The song playing was by a muggle band he didn’t recognize - a ditzy little number, all dreamy sounds and far away vocals. The shimmering effect the night held seemed to surge as they swayed.

It was awkward at first, as it always is. Clutching to each other’s shoulders in a frigid way that even Remus would realize was painful. That was until James, in his delirious state of glee started adding twists and turns left and right, loosening both of them up.

Regulus followed his every move, surprisingly fluid and confident in a way his posture never was. They both slowly started to laugh with every unnecessary kick or turn they flourished as they moved across the kitchen floor. This wasn’t a formal dance in any sense of the word, bouncing around like fools across the linoleum tiles.

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. Young, stupid, and full of bravado. Of course, now it was tinged with the haziness of all what’s broken his heart over and over, night after night. But it was still there, a flickering light in the dark. On and off. He silently pleaded with whoever was handling it to not click it off just yet.

“Okay, you have to stop before I start to vomit,” Regulus raises his voice over the bellowing music, a woman singing about hot stuff.

“We’ve both had nothing all day, nice try though!”

“Have you ever seen a cat dry heave?”

James laughs. He slows his tempo down back to a sway.

“Alright, we’re slowing down, only because it’s your birthday. Otherwise we would’ve been spinning off the patio,”

Regulus promptly ignores him. “Wasn’t there a promise of cake during your little speech?”

“Stale cake.” James corrects. “and i can only manage sweetened white bread, with bits of frosting.”

“I’ve had worse meals,” Regulus replies

“I bet you did,” James smiles back.

They come to a stop as the last seconds of the song play, another already fading in.

They both found themselves a few moments later hunched over a piece of incredibly stale, possibly moldy bread. Both throwing every bit of transfiguration spell they had in their arsenal. The result was a dried-out, but surprisingly pretty piece of yellow sponge cake. James had taken bits of milk and transfigured it into real looking icing, which coated the sides in swirls and peaks.

#LARGELY INSPIRED BY lonely dancers by conan gray #this is an outtake of one of my fanfics that i probably won't be using 😭 i've just been going through these scenes that don't fit anywhere #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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herebutnothere · 2 days

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Just had a thought about dinner at the Grimes' the day Michonne brought Rick home.

I wonder if it felt a bit odd for her, them all being under the same roof. Not a bad odd in that she was unhappy about the arrangement (how could she be? It's what she had been longing for for years), but a good odd in that it was proof of magic, a miracle of unbelievable proportions. (Was this too good to be true?)

I wonder if she thought that this new reality was a reward for all they had lost. (It was time for them to win a little. Surely anyone who knew their story would agree.)

Perhaps she got annoyed with blinking because the short bursts made her miss important moments and so she tried not to blink at all and instead just watched. (Because yes, all of these moments were important, now more than ever. It had been nearly a decade without him and more than a year without their kids. She couldn't bear to lose another second.)

In between the laughter and conversation and passing of food, I bet she saw how Judith kept looking between her and Rick, eyes sparkling with memories of Family Fun Days that were rewards for doctor visits.

She might have watched as RJ took shy glances around the table, moving from Judith to her and back again for some sort of confirmation before landing on his father. The Brave Man. A real, living, breathing person that leapt from community legend to their dinner table, filling the chair—his chair—that used to sit empty.

I imagine that when she looked at Rick, she would see that he wasn't blinking either. She probably saw his eyes take in each of them individually and then together all at once, committing their features to memory before moving towards the living room. She wouldn't have to follow his gaze to know it was seeking the slab hanging on the wall, Carl's handprint safe and preserved in the dark.

But at some point Rick would definitely take her hand in his, squeezing it tight. That I know for sure.

And I imagine that it was then and only then that she allowed herself to close her eyes to savor the moment, a smile gracing her face when she opened them again.

Because there they were in their home, under the same roof. Together.

Editing to add: I just made an extended cut of this over on FF with more installments to come 😊

#the grimes family is finally reunited after hell and high water #like i don't need a season 2 but if it happens i wouldn't be mad about it at all #richonne #the walking dead #the ones who live #twd richonne #the grimes family #rick x michonne #judith grimes #rj grimes #twd rick grimes #twd fanfiction #twd towl #fanfic #there's an extended cut of this on ff “days gone by”

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sincerely-sofie · 4 hours

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Chapter 10 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Prisoner (Part 2) + The End

I'M NOT CRYING. I'M JUST ALLERGIC TO POIGNANT STORYLINES OKAY?

[ Beginning ] - [ Previous Part ]

Hey Narrator? Narrator, remember when you said I'm finite and mortal? Narrator, why am I apparently very similar to the Princess in my inability to starve to death? Narrator? Huh? Narrator?

Not gonna lie, before the confirmation that we aren't any closer to death after being here for decades uncounted, I thought that the player character was going to eat the Princess. Glad that's not how things turned out!

I SEE THOSE FEATHER BARBS IN THE CORNERS OF THE SKY. I SEE THAT RED TINT. I HEAR THAT AMBIENCE. FINAL PRINCESS SWEEP LET's GOOOOOOO

It's time for the (presumably) last mirror selfie! Let's see how horrific we look after spending seeming eons locked away!

what

HEY WAIT WAIT WAIT ALL OF THE TIMES "NOTHING" WAS REFERRED TO AS A CONCRETE FACTUAL FORCE ARE FLOODING BACK TO ME. IS THIS A METAPHOR OR LITERAL OR---

*Kingdom Hearts Character Voice* "No, I'm me."

wait wh

Playing 20 Questions with the world's most cringefail loserman and then this absolute bombshell gets dropped

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE LONG QUIET THING? AND THE PRINCESS BEING DEATH? Y'ALL I THOUGHT YOU WERE LAUGHING AT ME BEING AN IDIOT WHEN I SAID THAT STUFF

YOU FRICKIN' HECKER. SHE'S DEATH IN THE SENSE OF THE TAROT CARD--- ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS. OH MY GOODNESS SHE'S THE EMBODIMENT OF CHANGE.

I asked the Narrator why Death took the form of a Princess and he said "buddy I'm not going to psychoanalyze why you've got a thing for princesses with what little time I have left."

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE TWO OF US BEING THE SAME BEING ORIGINALLY TOO????????

Okay so. Big ol' conflict with the Shifting Mound. I didn't answer to her during any of it, and now I'm back at the start with the Hero offering to narrate my surroundings for me. What a chad. Love that guy.

We enter the basement with no knife in hand.

I apologized for the time I hurt the Princess, and she pretty much gave me a Look and said "I ATE YOU THE FIRST TIME WE MET. DON'T APOLOGIZE. GOOD GLORY."

"After everything that has happened with this, will you tell me your name?" "I'm fine being called Princess. You never told me your name either, you know." "I don't think I have one." "Then I guess I'll just have to call you Quiet :)" CHOMPING THROUGH A STEEL BEAM THEY'RE ADORABLE

"I don't think I want to be a god." "Me neither. At the end of the day, it just feels like waking up in another basement." OUAGAHAHGAGHHHHH

Told her I wanted to leave with her, but not as gods. To leave the cabin as "just you and me." The Hero was like "Gonna hang back and find the other Voices. This next bit is just for you two. Go get 'em, lovebirds." BEST WING MAN

She hesitated at the cabin door and I asked her if she was ready. We opened it together. And Sofie bursts into tears IRL.

I know there's so much more to this game but I feel like I got the ultimate ending with this. Two offshoots sprouting from unknowable beings and playing at mortality together, forgetting that they know everything for a while so that they can learn each other for the first time again. It's so delightful and I need to let it sink in for a while.

#You guys know I'm going to write the most bittersweet and hopeful post-credits oneshot for this game #Absolutely dumbfounded by so many theories of mine ending up right guys. I thought I was operating in headcanon territory 90% of the time #I wish the voices in MY head were voiced by Jonathan Sims. No fair >:(((((#slay the princess #stp #sofie liveblogs stuff

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iloveboysinred · 16 hours

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And they were roommates ![college au]

pg. 13 | Roommate Yuji & Megumi x roommate! gn reader [platonic]

cw; cursing

masterlist

-When you'd started at Jujutsu Tech University, you were paired with Yuji and Megumi to be your roommates.

-it took a while for Megumi to warm up to you, being the quiet one out of the pair. But you'd consider the gestures he'd do suggest you guys were friends.

-He'd restock the toiletries, leave food on the stove or in the microwave for you and Yuji, and silently sit at the kitchen island to eat breakfast with you in the morning.

-you and Yuji hit it off right away, it was clear you guys shared one braincell.

-you guys would brush your teeth together in the morning, play board games, and give Megumi weekly 'concerts' which was really you and him blasting music and singing, following poor Megumi around the house.

-eventually when you and Megumi started to get closer, you all would have sleepovers in each other's rooms, pulling all-nighters like you didn't have class the next day, watching cliché movies Megumi pretended to hate (he loves them) and doing skincare.

-you would borrow Yuji's clothes on a regular basis, sometimes forgetting to give them back.

-it's okay though, Yuji doesn't have the heart to press you about them

-you'd force them to have 'roomie nights' with you, where you all applied a facemask, ate junk food and played video games or watched tv together. Sometimes you would try to do pedicures on Yuji, Megumi outright refusing the first time you asked.

-your dorm was always tidy because Megumi was a neat freak.

-you guys would have study sessions, which was really just Megumi tutoring you cause Yuji had no fucking clue what was going on.

-sometimes you would all try to bake together, finding a random recipe on the internet and deciding to try it, Megumi saving the dorm from burning down on multiple occasions.

-you regularly borrowed Megumi's hair products, and he pretended not to notice even though you walked around with your hair smelling just like his.

-constant bickering with Yuji cause he would eat food you left in the fridge.

-"Hey roomie!" as a greeting every time you saw either one of them, Megumi would roll his eyes and Yuji would return your energy, running full speed at you to hug you, like you haven't seen each other in decades...even though you literally lived together.

-Megumi brings you guys snacks and food from the store

-you're always asking to see his devine dogs, and he sighs, summoning them.

-"you know bringing them out takes up my energy, right?"

-you and Yuji pull pranks on Megumi, and on each other. Sometimes involving Gojo.

-Megumi hates it when you and Yuji sit next to him when he's trying to read or catch up on assignments because you guys won't shut the fuck up.

-The three of you split that one braincell three ways, it was just less obvious when it came to Megumi because he has decorum.

-proven true when you were looking for your phone and Megumi checked the fridge

-"Why the hell would it be in there?" "can't leave any stone unturned."

-again proven true when you and Yuji were sent to buy dish soap, "the green kind" and brought home four different bottles cause you couldn't decide. Like, they're all green... and they're all dish soap.

-overall you guys have a great bond, the three of you asked to be roommates all the way up until you graduated and still visit each other very often.

notes and reblogs are appreciated :> comments, asks and submissions are welcomed <3333

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #megumi x y/n #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji #❥iloveboysinred

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capybaracorn · 1 day

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‘We won’t stop’: How Columbia’s students etched a new Gaza protest legacy

Inside a movement that took over a university building and lost its encampment within 24 hours – yet refuses to die.

New York, United States — At about 10pm on Monday, April 29, I thought I would call it a night.

My student journalist colleagues and I had stayed late into the night on Columbia University’s campus the previous couple of days, reporting on a story that had grabbed the world’s attention: the pro-Palestine protests and encampment that had inspired similar campaigns in schools across the United States and globally.

As I slung my camera bag on my back and began to leave campus, walking by the camp, I got a tip from a passing protester: “I would stick around till about midnight,” they said. “Maybe go home first, though.”

Got it. I went home to charge backup camera batteries and grab spare memory cards before leaving for campus again.

Back at Columbia, it appeared that more than one of us had gotten the tip. Crowds of student journalists, all of us with matching paper badges and blue tape on our clothes, waited next to the encampment for whatever was to come. Our journalism faculty stood by our side, as they had been doing throughout.

Protesters grouped into “platoons”, and while we didn’t know what to expect, we kept eyes on different corners.

We split up to make sure different spots were covered; a few of us stuck by Pulitzer Hall, the home of Columbia Journalism School, where a small number of protesters had convened, while some others stood ready with cameras and recorders by the encampment.

That is when it all began. Campers began walking their tents off the lawn. One group began chanting. Another at the opposite end of the lawn sang protest hymns. I was with a small cohort of journalists who followed the tents to another small lawn, a clever decoy – whether intended or not – that meant many of us missed the moment, at the opposite end of campus, when protesters entered Hamilton Hall.

By the time we had run over, tens of student protesters had gathered to link arms outside the building, which their predecessors had taken over in 1968 to protest against the Vietnam War, and in 1985 to demand that Columbia divest from firms tied to apartheid South Africa.

Two of my colleagues were in the middle of the scrum, up against the doors watching two counter-protesters attempt to stop the occupation before being pushed out. Protesters rushed metal picnic tables, wooden chairs, trash cans, and planters to the doors where they were zip-tied together, effectively forming a barricade.

Two masked individuals appeared from a second-floor balcony to cheers and applause. They unfurled a hand-painted sign, “Hind’s Hall”, a reference to the six-year-old Palestinian girl who was killed with her family in their car in January as they tried to escape Israel’s military assault in Gaza.

That night, I fell asleep on the floor of a sixth-storey classroom in Pulitzer Hall to the echoes of song, one lone voice amplified through a megaphone, coming from Hamilton Hall: “This joy that I have, the world didn’t give it to me … the world can’t take it away.”

Student protesters playing music at the Columbia University encampment in New York City [Yasmeen Altaji/Al Jazeera]

The final offer

The morning before had felt very different. Columbia University’s South Lawn was packed, and the little protest village in the heart of the campus – dozens of tents and tarps comprising the “Gaza solidarity encampment” – was bustling with life, two weeks since its erection.

The protest is rooted in a decades-long movement for Palestinian rights in their homeland, and to hold Israel accountable for its illegal occupation of Palestinian territories. The current campaign against Israel’s war on Gaza – in which more than 34,000 people have been killed – also aims to pressure Columbia to divest from Israel-linked companies, just as the university did in the case of apartheid South Africa after similar protests four decades ago.

In my time covering the protest, the sounds at the encampment varied. Some days, you could hear the (Islamic) adhan, or the chants of (Jewish) Passover prayer. Or the sounds of the dumbek (drum) and sharp violins echoing microtonal hymns of Palestinian folk music and classical Andalusian muwashshah. Speakers amplified the melodies of iconic musicians like Abdel Halim Hafez and Fairuz.

Protesters shared donated hot meals – pizzas and samosas, bagels and eggs, sacks of mandarins and tubs of crackers, muffins and cookies spread on a tarp aptly called the “cornucopia”.

One camper had set up a makeshift nail parlour, painting red, white, black and green manicures matching the Palestinian flag. Cardboard “street signs” named the tight spaces between rows of tents “Walid Daqqa Road”, after the Palestinian novelist and activist who died of cancer in April, while in Israeli custody.

In the lawn’s centre, organisers routinely updated a whiteboard to reflect the day’s programmed activities: Dhuhr prayer and Shabbat dinner, with jazz in the mix, too.

In a corner of the lawn near the main campus walk, an “art guild” was buzzing with protesters painting signs, drawing patterns of the keffiyeh, decorating and personalising tent spaces.

But that Monday, campers received a final offer from the university administration under President Nemat “Minouche” Shafik: evacuate now, and evade suspension. Campers defied the order.

And by Monday night, the morning’s bustle had died down to a hum, then a whisper, before the eruption that culminated in the takeover of Hamilton Hall. At the encampment site, the zipper flap doors of empty tents billowed in the breeze. Blankets lay crumpled beside pillows still dented from a nap; a sole LED lantern left lit on the ground, a paintbrush crusted with dried red and green acrylic lay stuck on a paper plate.

It’s a community that student journalists like myself at the Columbia Journalism School had closely observed for days at a stretch, unlike the “outside media” who were only allowed on to campus in daily two-hour windows since the encampment went up. Joining us were undergraduate peers at student publications including WKCR and the Columbia Daily Spectator.

A community that, through the intensifying attention on its members, had been trying to emphasise that they weren’t the story. Signs planted across the lawn read: “All eyes on Gaza.”

But in the 24 hours that would follow, the world’s gaze on Columbia would only sharpen.

Students were trapped inside the entrance vestibule at John Jay Hall in Columbia University in New York on Tuesday, April 30, 2023 [Yasmeen Altaji/Al Jazeera]

The raid

Tuesday morning started eerily quiet. The camp was empty, save for a few protesters, and Hamilton Hall was sleepy, the only movement coming from a banner reading “INTIFADA” hanging off the side of the building.

Just a few days prior, far before the occupation of Hamilton Hall, the Columbia administration had sent a notice arguing that “to bring back the NYPD at this time would be counterproductive, further inflaming what is happening on campus, and drawing thousands to our doorstep who would threaten our community”.

The note was met with mistrust by protesters: After all, the university had already called the police to campus for the first time in more than 50 years in April to try to clear the encampment. More than 100 students had been arrested.

Instead, I heard organisers advise campers to pack their belongings in trash bags and write phone numbers on their arms in case of arrest.

By Tuesday night, their apprehension would turn into reality. The NYPD entered Columbia’s campus shortly after 9pm on Tuesday (01:00 GMT on Wednesday).

Students linked arms and sang together in anticipation before the harmonies of “We shall not be moved” merged with the march of hundreds of police officers making their way, in formation, to Hamilton Hall.

Calls through long-range acoustic devices (LRAD) to disperse or face arrest, echoed across the campus square, all the time weaving in and out of the floating tunes of the protest hymns, earworms that anyone who’d been on campus had likely come to memorise.

Protesters outside of Hamilton braced for arrest. But officers turned away from them upon arrival, and instead turned towards us – onlookers and press.

Officers instructed us to vacate the area. We walked backwards to get everything on video. “It’s easier if you face forward,” one officer said. “Turn around so you don’t fall,” another yelled repeatedly in a collective command. “Time to go inside,” another said. “Back to your dorms.”

While our backs were against the door of a building at the end of the courtyard where Hamilton was, the doors opened, and officers raised their batons, giving one final push until we were all inside. There was a moment of disorientation before we realised where we were: inside an undergraduate dormitory called John Jay Hall.

It’s where the student health centre, a dining hall, and a late-night campus eatery are. But we couldn’t see any of that. While police guarded the doors into the entry vestibule of the building in front of us, campus security guarded the rest of the building behind us, restricting access to dorm residents.

With about 30 or 40 of us squeezed into the small entry vestibule, ventilation was poor. We wouldn’t reach the bathroom. Red arrows pointed towards the emergency exit but the doors were blocked by officers. Phone batteries were dying. And most pressing, for the journalists among us: we couldn’t see Hamilton beyond the bodies of officers standing at John Jay’s glass doors.

For about three hours, students kicked at the front doors, slouched on the ground against the wall, and slept with their backpacks as pillows. One student sat cross-legged on the floor, sobbing softly while her friend comforted her.

Three hours passed in that hall before we were let out, officers directing us to dorms and buildings they did not know the names or locations of. “We know you want to get out of here. We’re doing you a favour,” one said.

As I left campus at about 1:30am, I walked past a crew hauling the tents off the South Lawn and into a garbage truck that crushed them on the spot.

[See embedded video in the article]

The remains

On Wednesday, the tension wasn’t palpable, only disappointment. The campus was quiet, but not calm. It was completely empty. No one, aside from residents and essential staff – which the journalism faculty ensured we were viewed as, as student journalists – were allowed past campus gates.

Where the encampment once stood, there were only marks of discoloured grass in the shape of rectangular tent bases.

But the movement seems anything but a ghost; on Wednesday, protesters hosted a “light show” beside the campus, projecting titles onto the public-facing side of Hamilton Hall that read “Hind’s Hall forever.”

Every year, on the eve of exams, students gather to let out what is known as a “primal scream” on campus. On Thursday, they took that tradition to Shafik’s house, shouting outside her door.

On Friday, protesters again lined the street outside of Columbia’s gate. And the words still rang through the neighbourhood: “Disclose, divest, we will not stop, we will not rest.”

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jksarchives · 2 days

Text

┊͙ 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓

𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗷𝗸 x 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀/𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: emotional, grief, mass casualties, mention on death of children

word count: 2k (excl. summary)

SUMMARY:

Jungkook, 35, is a cardiologist with a little over a decade of experience in the field.

From a young age, he displayed incredible intelligence, consistently topping his classes and achieving excellent grades. However, it was his empathy and passion to help others that truly shaped his path into medicine.

Now, as a practicing cardiologist, Jungkook is known for his dedication to his patients and his commitment to give people a second chance to live the life they deserve.

You, 34, and Jungkook have been together for almost 18 years — since high school to be specific.

From the early days of medical school to the demanding hours of residency and beyond, you have always been his rock, his confidante, and his pillar of strength. You both shared everything together. But, perhaps most importantly, you were there for him in his darkest moments, offering comfort and sincerity during his panic attacks and moments of doubt.

Despite his expertise in the medical field, Jungkook is not completely immune to the stress and pressure that come with his profession, nor when things don’t always go right.

𐚁₊⊹

────

As the clock struck midnight, a sudden gust of wind howled outside, carrying with it the powerful force of the thunderstorm. The occasional flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

As the thunderstorm intensified, the wind grew fiercer, and its force was too much for the windows to bear. With a forceful push, the window flung open creating a loud thud, and the curtains danced wildly in the chaotic gusts.

The forceful intrusion of air startled you awake, and your eyes shot open. Before you could fully comprehend anything, a deafening clap of thunder rumbled through the room, rattling the windows and causing your heart to pound in your chest.

Breathing heavily, you quickly moved to close the windows, trying to shut out the storm's ferocity that had invaded your peaceful moment of rest. You then went and sat back down on the bed, your hands clutching the blanket tightly as you tried to calm your nerves.

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall in front of you, it was well past midnight and your thoughts immediately went to your husband who still wasn’t home.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you checked for any messages and missed calls from him, but there were none. You tried to call and message him, but each attempt went unanswered, and a sense of unease settled in your chest.

It was unusual of him.

Knowing how worried you get about his whereabouts, he was always sure to keep you updated if he was running late or if he was working extra hours. But seeing your phone empty from his calls or messages left you in a pool of anxiety.

You tried to distract yourself, thinking that he might have taken shelter somewhere due to the storm. Perhaps he was at his friend’s house until the weather improved.

But the lack of communication left you feeling uneasy, and your mind began to imagine worst-case scenarios. And outside, the storm intensified, rain hammering against the windows and thunder roaring like an angry beast.

“Where are you Jungkook?” you mumbled to yourself with a trembling voice as you paced around the room. Your worry was growing each passing minute and your heart was restless.

You knew the intensity of his job and how emergencies could keep him at the hospital beyond his usual working hours. You understood the unpredictable nature of his work, but tonight, something felt off.

Just when you felt you could no longer bear the uncertainty, the sound of his car pulling up outside brought a glimmer of relief to your heart. You rushed to the window, peering through the rain-soaked glass as you saw the familiar headlights of his car.

As you hurriedly made your way downstairs, you could hear the rattling of the doorknob, and the door swung open abruptly, startling you. In he walked with slow staggering steps, completely drenched from head to toe, his hair tousled against his forehead.

As he shut the door behind him and dropped his bag, you rushed to him and pulled him into a tight hug, ignoring the fact that he was soaking wet.

“Are you okay? Why didn't you message me that you were going to be late? I was so worried” you said as you peppered his neck with kisses.

But instead of responding, Jungkook gently pushed you away, his eyes distant and pained.

You stared deeply into his eyes, they were red and puffy like he had been crying for a while. His lips were dry and pale, and his body cold. His demeanour was different, unlike his cheery one. He looked grief-stricken, regretful, defeated.

You didn’t know what exactly happened, but you could feel your heart heavy, like you could physically feel the sadness he was radiating.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked as you cupped his face with your warm hands, your voice soft yet concerned.

But, again, he gently pushed you to the side and made his way upstairs.

You decided to follow him. Upstairs, you found him in your shared bedroom, slowly taking off his stained white shirt, revealing the dark patches of blood. Your heart sank further, and you walked to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Please, talk to me” you pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

But no answer.

You knew he was hurting about whatever that had happened during his shift, and you wanted to be part of his grief — and be there for him throughout.

“I’m just tired, it’s been a long day” he finally answered.

You knew he wasn’t telling you the entire truth, but you didn’t want to push him any more. So you gave him space, and allowed him to open up to you when he’s ready.

“It’s okay. Let me put your clothes in the laundry, and you go have a shower” you said, pulling away.

Jungkook hummed before stripping himself off, leaving him in his boxers. He handed you his wet clothes and went to his wardrobe to grab a clean towel and night clothes.

After putting his clothes in the laundry, you decided to join him in the shower. You knew he needed your comfort more than anything even though he was quiet.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you walked inside and began undressing yourself. Now completely naked, you opened the door to the shower room and stepped inside. There you saw him standing with his arm and head leaned against the wall as the water above showered over him, lost in thoughts. The water splashed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but you continued.

With a tender touch, you slowly wrapped your arms around his torso, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. And in seconds, you felt his tense body relax. You stood together under the warm water, enveloped in a cocoon of love and trust. You could feel his racing heartbeat, and you knew he needed to let it all out.

“Talk to me baby” you whispered gently, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

For a moment, there was silence. But slowly, he turned around to face you, and he looked into your eyes with his puffy ones. The water continued to fall, masking the sound of his breathing and the unspoken emotions that filled the air.

“I’m all ears” you muttered, reaching your hand out to cup his face.

And just like that, the floodgates opened, and he began to sob as he pulled you into his arms, his tears mingling with the water streaming down his face. His chin resting on your shoulder, he cried and cried. You held him tighter, offering a comforting presence.

It was a rare moment of vulnerability. Jungkook had always been an outgoing person that always spread positivity whenever he went. Seeing him cry like this, you knew something had happened that struck his heart.

“Talk to me about it honey” you encouraged him, your eyes watering as you felt your heart torn for him.

“I f-failed Y/n, I f-failed to s-save her” he cried.

Your heart sank at his words, and you hugged him tighter as you softly caressed the back of his head.

“There was a road traffic collision involving a school bus and a truck. The emergency department was packed and busy, everyone was rushing to save the children. I was the lead for my team, and I’ve never felt so anxious and pressured in my life Y/n. These were children I was dealing with, they were all vulnerable. They were bloody, and some of them were barely recognisable because of the extent of their injuries. Their precious lives were then in my hands and I was scared, but I couldn’t show it” he said.

“Me and my team did our very best, we took no break and focused on reviving the children. But I f-failed. Their tiny bodies were too fragile and weak to hold on to such kind of pain. Only three out of the twenty children survived. I failed Y/n, I failed to save them no matter how much I tried. I’ll never forgive myself for it” he continued, crying louder in anguish as he hugged you tighter.

Your eyes slightly widened in realisation.

You remembered watching the news earlier about the accident, and you remembered feeling your heart sink to the pit of your stomach looking at the ruins of the bus.

As you listened to him intently, your heart broke for the loss of young lives and the emotional toll it was taking on him. His dedication to his profession was one of the things you admired most about him, but it also meant that he often carried the weight of life and death on his shoulders.

Tears streamed down your own face, you tried to remain strong for him.

“Hey,” you said as you pulled him away, “what happened was very tragic, but it’s not your fault, okay?” you began, cupping his face.

“You’re only human, and you can't save everyone no matter how much and how hard you try. You can't blame yourself for the things that are beyond your control” you told him.

He looked at you, and you could see the raw pain in his eyes.

“But I'm supposed to be their saviour, their protector. I should have done more, tried harder” he grieved.

“Babe listen,” you began, placing your index finger under his chin and lifting his head slightly.

“You’re not a God my love” you softly said, “you have dedicated your life to healing, and you've made a difference in so many lives. But you're allowed to feel sad and overwhelmed when you can't save everyone. It doesn't make you any less of an amazing doctor or person” you told him.

Jungkook closed his eyes, shaking his head as he choked on his cries.

“The hardest part was delivering the news to their parents. Their cries, their screams…it was hard Y/n. I feel like I failed them too” he sobbed as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“No, you haven’t failed my love. You did your best, you gave your all. But you can’t control everything, you can’t fix everything and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you failed, remember, you’re just a human” you said.

You could feel his sorrow, and you knew that words alone couldn't heal his wounded soul. In the moment of brief silence, you tenderly kissed his shoulder, his neck, and his cheek, hoping your touch could offer some solace, some comfort amidst the storm of guilt he was experiencing.

As you both stood under the soothing water, he stayed hugging you by the waist, finding solace in your embrace as he buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck. You held him tight, wishing you could take away his pain and bear it for him.

“It’s not your fault” you kept whispering in his ear as his cries slowly turned into sniffles.

You knew that healing from such pain would take time, but you were determined to be there for him every step of the way.

“You did your best and that’s all that matters” you caressed his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs.

As his cries subsided, you leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on his lips, followed by another, and another.

“I love you, and I truly admire everything that you and all the lives you continuously save. You might not be able to save everyone, but you’re still a hero” you smiled at him, leaning in and pressing another kiss on his lips.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you baby, thank you. Thank you for always listening to me and being there for me, it means a lot” he said, giving you a small smile.

“I love you” he then said, your lips soon meeting in a long passionate kiss, expressing the depth of your connection and love for each other.

Pulling away, he stared deeply into your eyes, and you couldn’t help trace your fingers over his sharp features.

“I’ll always be here for you” you whispered.

Together, you continued to wash each other, a tender and intimate act that spoke volumes about your love and bond. The water washed away not only the physical dirt but also the emotional burdens he carried throughout the day.

DO NOT COPY

@ j k s a r c h i v e s

(insta: jikooksrkive)

#bts #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts moodboard #bts x fem!reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic

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