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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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Confession

Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 3.9k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.

Part 1 - Previous part

Miguel chose to give you space and time.

For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum.

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.

So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.

He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises.

"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.

Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.

His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.

Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.

"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.

"What happened?"

Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.

He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"

This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.

You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.

Oh.

He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.

And that hurt more than any of his wounds.

Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.

And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.

Very amateur of him.

Very unlike him.

And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.

But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.

Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well.

"Let me take a look. Please."

He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse.

"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."

Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.

He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.

But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.

And he gave in, like the fool he was.

"Fine."

You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."

He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.

"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."

He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.

"Hold the bag a bit higher."

Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.

That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.

His sweet girl…

Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.

Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.

"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.

Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.

You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.

Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.

Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."

"Thank you."

He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."

"What about?"

"Us."

Miguel slowly straightened in his seat.

You had his full attention now.

"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"

He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.

He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.

Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"

Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"

He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him.

It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"

Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.

A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level?

But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.

"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"

You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."

"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."

You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.

Not long after, you nodded.

There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.

But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.

"What about Tom?"

Your eyes widened. "Tom?"

"Yes. How do you feel about him?"

He needed reassurance.

"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."

That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.

You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.

You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.

With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.

The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.

Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.

His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.

There was comfort in this type of silence.

Actions did speak louder than words, after all.

The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.

You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.

He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.

And then you kissed him.

It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.

You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.

"Hard already?"

The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually.

"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.

He would devour you if you allowed him to.

His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.

He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.

Just for you.

His sweet girl.

You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.

Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"

His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.

He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.

He silently vowed to always do this.

You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.

"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.

Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.

He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.

You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.

For the second time that day, you had come to him.

Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention.

"Hey, you."

Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."

You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.

Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough.

Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.

Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"

"It's not even enough."

He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.

You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.

Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.

"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.

Then, you took his lips in yours.

This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.

Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands.

You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.

Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.

He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.

The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.

He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?

"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.

Sweet.

Hungry.

His.

He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.

You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.

"Can I tug gently?"

"Please…"

Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.

He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.

You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.

"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."

You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"

You'd look so pretty being marked by him.

He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.

Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child.

You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.

He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.

"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"

He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.

Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.

He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.

"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.

A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"

His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.

"Are you sure?"

You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.

Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.

"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."

You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.

He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.

You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. It feels really good…"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"

He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.

"Lick the tip…"

This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.

He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.

You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.

He immediately pressed his eyes shut.

The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.

You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.

"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"

Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.

"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.

Fuck.

You looked so fucking delicious.

But he needed more.

"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"

You quickly nodded. "I think so."

Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"

You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.

His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.

"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"

You were so good for him…

He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."

By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.

Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.

He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.

And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.

Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"Miguel… why?"

You were pouting again and he nearly lost it.

"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.

You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded right away.

"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."

You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.

"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.

Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.

"Tell me if it gets too much."

"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.

He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.

So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.

His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.

He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.

You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"

Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.

"Miguel… I… please…"

His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.

Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.

More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.

He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.

Come for me, cariño…

You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.

As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.

Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.

His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.

As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.

His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.

By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.

The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.

His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.

"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.

You were panting heavily and could only nod.

Part 8

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

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History Repeats

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, just some serious angst

Words: 2.4K

A/N: The last line of the ending sucks, ignore it, also love you @mariahcarreyyy

Synopsis: After the huge fight where Charles walks out leaving Sebastian, Sebastian can't help but follow Charles and you to Australia, but what happens when he sees something the reminds him of the past. Does history really repeat itself?

If Sebastian knew one thing, history has a habit of repeating itself. He never wanted to admit that it happens, but it does, and he should accept that. But Sebastian has never really admitted to anything he didn't want to.

He especially had to start admitting his wrongs when Charles became his teammate. He thought that being the eldest driver and the number one driver in Ferrari, Charles would back down and learn his place, and he did anything but that. He challenged Sebastian but didn't care if that was his idol; he would win no matter what. It's partially why Sebastian fell in love with the young Monégasque driver. He fell in love with the fire in his eyes, the way he'd go blank and innocent looking, how he loved and touched softly; Sebastian was smitten, and he hated it.

You loved teasing your husband about it and had no shame in telling him you loved Charles. Sebastian would grumble over the young man, and you'd watch. It was like him and Mark all over again. Before you and Seb dated, you were friends first, and you remember how complex Sebastian and Mark's relationship was. You never pried into what happened between them, but it didn't take a genius to see how they still looked at one another.

Sebastian didn't like that he fell for a teammate twice. He got far too comfortable and used to having two bodies beside him when he woke. But now, he was waking up alone in his home in Switzerland. He could still hear your soft sobs from that night. Charles took off his ring, left, and flew back to Monaco. You were going after him, telling Sebastian he needed to determine what was more important: where they lived or their marriage?

To Sebastian, it was an easy choice. Their marriage was far more significant than where they lived, but why couldn't it be both? He didn't want fans constantly in their face, shoving their phones in his baby's faces; he wanted the open air and peace living in the Swiss mountains where no one could find them. Was that too much to ask for? Sebastian just finally wanted peace in his retirement. But, he'd never get that being married to Charles, and honestly, he didn't like that peace; he wanted his husband next to him, wearing his ring.

The ring that's burning a hole in Sebastian's pocket.

You and Charles had no idea that Sebastian was flying to Australia. He hasn't been able to sleep since the fights, and he wanted to have you two back finally. Sebastian was going to get his family back. He didn't care if he outed them to the world. He just wanted Charles and you to know that his selfish matters meant nothing to him. He loved you two too much to throw it away over where to live.

"Y/n," Ollie pulls out the last part of your name, pouting as you fuss over the boy's hair. "Ollie, please, just sit still. It's a bird's nest." Charles chuckles at the two of you. You move away, and he reaches over, ruffling his hair. Ollie whines and slaps Charles' hand.

"Y/n, he messed it up." You turn and glare at Charles, who shrugs his shoulders. "He's lying," You narrow your eyes, and Ollie giggles. "Oo, someone is in trouble." You turn that glare to Ollie, who stops and quiets, and Charles laughs. For his age, Ollie was rather brilliant. He noticed your relationship with Charles and said he wouldn't know anything. "Ollie, Charles, stop it." You reprimand them, and Charles goes back to his phone.

You can't help but stare at his empty ring finger and the burning on your finger and clear your throat. Since you left four weeks ago, you haven't talked to Sebastian, and you were starting to think your relationship with your husband was over. But he called you yesterday, and you two talked it over. He had asked to talk to Charles, but Charles shook his head no and refused to acknowledge that Sebastian was begging to speak to him.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but don't forget you two have that cricket thing." Slyvia's red hair makes you three nod and smile, and she eyes you but doesn't comment and walks away. "Here," you hand Ollie his hat, and he smiles brightly at you and places his head on your stomach. "Thanks, Mom." You blush and shove him lightly, which makes him giggle, and Charles smiles.

"Come on, we better get going." Charles groans and stands up, stretching, and you admire the toned muscle shown from his shirt lifting. "I'm just a piece of meat to you, aren't I?" You snap out of your trance as Charles mushes up his hair, smirking at you. "A very hot, intelligent, beautiful, amazing husband," Charles freezes, and Ollie blushes, feeling like he's intruding, and bolts as Charles melts. It's been hard on him since leaving Sebastian; he misses the man he fell in love with.

"You're more than that, Charles. Just being very hot is a bonus," you finish, wrapping his arm around you; he pulls you close and peeks your lips, smiling. "I love you so much." He whispers, and you steal another kiss and hear loud Italian, both of you rushing out as Sylvia stops and glares. "We're going, we're going," Charles grumbles and gently pushes you into the soft, warm Australian air. Sylvia eyes you, and you wave Charles off and stare at her.

"You're here a lot without Sebastian." You feel your gut twist, wishing you could tell the world that you, Sebastian, and Charles were married, but the world, well, the F1 world, wasn't ready to accept that fact. "Yes, because Sebastian is busy, Syliva. I've known Charles for a long time; I don't need my husband here when I visit." You bite back, and Slyvia arches an eyebrow and sighs. "I've known for a while, Y/n, whenever you three are ready, we've got the statement ready." Her red hair burns you almost as she follows after Charles, and you stand there, breath tight.

"Y/n hurry, before Charles comes, drag you out himself!" Syliva yells, and you snap out of it and rush to the area where fans are screaming and trying to get Charles's attention.

Charles groans as he waves and smiles at everyone. "You alright?" Ollie asks, noticing how Charles looks around. "You ever miss someone so much that no matter what you're doing, you can't stop thinking about them?" Charles asks. Ollie stutters and clears his throat before nodding with a blush coating his cheeks.

Charles chuckles, pulls Ollie into a hug, and rubs his shoulder comfortably. "We'll be okay, kid," Ollie nods, and fans go crazy seeing this interaction. "Charles?" Ollie whispers, and Charles turns away from signing and leans in, as does Ollie. "You and Sebastian will be okay too," Ollie pulls away, smiles slightly, and runs away, leaving Charles to give him his soft smile. "Cute," Charles mumbles and goes back to signing.

Sebastian pulls his hat down and sighs in peace when fans in the paddock just move around him, not really caring who he is. It helps that he's wearing a Ferrari shirt with the last name Leclerc. Everyone assumed he was just a fan, not a 4x WDC. Hearing the screams, he smiles, seeing the crowd around the Ferrari hospitality.

Heading over the building, he stops seeing Charles holding a cricket racket and Ollie beside him. Scanning the crowd, he doesn't see you and moves closer, wanting to see what they are doing. Sebastian notices how Ollie is standing closer to Charles than normal. He tries hard not to read into it but stops when he sees the way Charles gives him a soft smile and gently explains something to the confused F2 driver.

Ollie blushes, and Charles reaches up, ruffling his hair. Like ice was injected into his veins, it was Deja Vu. When he started to fall for Charles, Sebastian always ruffled his hair and stayed close to him, not wanting to overwhelm the boy during media duties like this. Ollie says something, and Charles laughs loudly and smiles so brightly that Sebastian feels sick.

As if he could tell he was being watched, Charles's head snapped back, scanned the crowd, and stopped, staring at Sebastian. Seb slowly raises a hand to wave, but Charles moves and turns his back to Sebastian, returning to talking to Ollie. Sebastian jumps when he feels a hand on his arm and sees you standing before him. "Y/n," He breathes, going in for a kiss, but you stop him. "Not here, come on." You pull him through the crowd and shove him into the hospitality.

"What are you doing here, Sebastian?" He flinches at your harsh tone, almost like you're upset with him being here. "For you and Charlie, I'm here for you two." Looking down at his feet, the ring burning. "Seb," Your voice breaks. You didn't mean to get angry at your husband. All you felt was worry when you saw him standing in that crowd, worried that the fans would see him and it'd turn to chaos.

"He's gotten close with Ollie," You look up, seeing how Sebastian refuses to look you in the eye; you almost want to laugh but don't. "Yes, Ollie and he became close. Ollie really looks up to Charles." Sebastian scuffs and plays with the wedding ring on his finger. "Is…are they…ughn." Sebastian makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. Your heart rate spikes as your mind whirls through anything he could ask.

"Sebastian, do you think they're……Sebastian, the kid is 18!" You hiss, Sebastian scuffs, and you see an anger in his eyes you've never seen before. "So?! And Charles and I had an appropriate age difference? Honestly, Y/n, look me in the eye and tell me that Charles and I had an appropriate relationship." He says you look away because, in the end, you know if people knew of this relationship, they would disagree.

"Right, so you can see my worries. He looked right at me and ignored me. Fuck, maybe we really are over." The door slams open, and Charles stands there. Ollie is behind him as Charles stalks down the hall; you can feel the anger pulsing off of him. "Ollie, go find Carlos. I need to talk with my husband and wife." Ollie swallows, nods, and slips through you three; he could practically be running with how fast he was trying to get out of there.

Charles isn't able to get his words put before Sebastian accuses him. "Are you cheating on me?" Charles stands there, his anger deflating faster than a punctured tire. He stares at Sebastian, his eyes filling with tears, letting out a wet laugh. "That's why you're here? To accuse me of cheating? Not to work on us, but to accuse me of this? Fuck you." Charles whispers, shaking his head. "You didn't answer me," "Sebastian," You growl, but Sebastian just waves you off.

"You can't blame me for asking because look at how we started." It's such a slap in the face to Charles that he stumbles back. You were well aware of how they started: After a hard race, they looked for comfort in each other, which led to one thing. Sebastian didn't tell you immediately that he was sleeping with his teammate, but you didn't tell him that you and Charles were falling in love. "You ignored me when you saw me, Charles, immediately you turned to Ollie. You didn't even smile." Seb hisses, his anger overwhelming him.

"I WAS PROTECTING YOU!" You flinch at Charles yelling. "I was protecting you, goddamit Sebastian. You were surrounded by 100 fans; what would've happened if they noticed you were there. You, haha." Charles laughs, pulling at his hair. You move to comfort him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he stares at Sebastian.

"I love you, you and Y/n. The only two people I've ever truly loved, and here I was thinking, you….you throw that back in my face. I love you, I love you," Charles repeats, trying not to break down. "Charlie, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," Sebastian whispers and reaches out of him. Charles sobs and moves away from you, crumbling into Sebastian's arms. You sniffle and blink fast; they had a love you'll never understand, just the same between you, Sebastian, and Charles. You each love each other in a way you'll never understand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say those things. I'm scared of losing you. I can't lose you." Sebastian whispers, Charles whimpers and buries himself deeper into Sebastian's hold. "You won't lose me, Sebby, I promise." You wipe your eyes as Sebastian looks up at you and holds his arm out. Moving, you join them as Charles takes deep breaths; Sebastian still smells of fresh air and damp wood. It was his favorite smell.

"I don't care where we live, I don't care if we're poor or rich, they're our babies, and you'll be there with me. I don't care as long as we're together. I should've said that, who the fuck cares. I just want you two. Don't leave me." Sebastian whispers.

"Do you have my ring?" Charles pulls back, and Sebastian nods fast, fumbling as he pulls out the little gold band. Charles's empty finger itches to regain the familiar weight. "I didn't mean to take it off. I was just so angry, I couldn't…." Charles's voice falls off as Sebastian grips his face, kissing him gently. Charles blushes like he is still that 20-something-year-old being kissed for the first time.

"Promise me something?" You pull away and wipe your eyes, all 3 of you looking a mess. "Anything," They both blurt and chuckle as you giggle. "Promise me that we won't do this again; we can't. I can't handle being tugged back and forth. We need to talk to each other; it doesn't matter how hard it is or if it angers us; we can't go through this again. Because, well," You trail off, and Sebastian's mouth drops open.

"No, oh my god." His voice is airy as he tries not to cry for a different reason. Charles chuckles and shakes his head. "Explains the weird pickles, peanut butter, and ice cream snacks." You slap his chest, and Sebastian moves to scoop you up, as you laugh and Charles chuckles. "I love you, I love the both of you so much."

Everything really would be okay.

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acewithapaintbrush · 1 year

Text

"My dad has the hots for your dad!"

Amity can only stare as Hunter slams his hands down on the table she is working at. He glares at her with narrow eyes and a mouth pressed firmly into a thin line. The perfect picture of determination and confidence.

"What. Did you just say?"

He immediately deflates at her pointed and icy tone. His hands leave her table and fidget with his overalls and hair instead while he squirms from side to side, eyes averted and cheeks blushing.

"I-uhm. I read that in one of Mama Camila's books. It- well, I mean, it means-"

Amity cuts him off. "I know what it means. Didn't Camila forbid you from reading them?"

Them being the small paperbacks with the half naked humans on the front. Usually a woman in distress with a very well built male, rescuing her from certain doom with wet hair and big abs. The first time Camila had caught Hunter reading one of them she'd almost burst a blood vessel and ripped it right out of his hands.

"Nonononono," she had chanted and hugged a perplexed Hunter to her chest, carding a hand through his hair. "Those books are way too spicy for an innocent, cute boy like you!"

Hunter huffs and puffs. "I'm an adult. She can't tell me what to read." At Amity's raised eyebrow he mutters "And she didn't find the one hidden under my mattress."

He shakes his head and takes her shoulders to shake her a little. She allows it, 'cause she can see how agitated he is. "But that's not the point! Darius has… he likes your dad. As in like-like! And we gotta figure out how we feel about that."

Amity thinks about Darius. The dashing rebel, who had been pulling the strings of an uprising in the shadows from the start. A headstrong abomination user. He would definitely be a big step up from Odalia, that's for sure.

She imagines Darius as her father's new partner and discovers that she is more than okay with that.

Amity is not naive. She knows her father needs a headstrong partner at his side, someone who is not afraid to take the reins in a relationship. Not like Odalia, who's taken that to mean that she should micromanage every facet of his life and turn him into someone he is not, but someone who reminds her father to eat and to leave work alone every once in a while.

"I approve." Amity says and seeing Hunter's desolate expression narrows her eyes. "You got a problem with my dad?"

"What?" Hunter lets her shoulders go as if they have burned him. "No, of course not! He's super cool! I just… Arrrrrg!" He rapidly runs his hands through his hair. "I just don't know if I can handle a second parental figure!"

"Uhhh."

He starts walking up and down in front of her, Waffles flying after him with happy little trills. "Things with Darius are good right now. He told me to call him Dad and it's… It's yeah, you know? But it's also a bit awkward sometimes, you know? The only father figure I ever had before… Well. And we are still trying to find our rhythm, you know? How am I supposed to deal with another parent right now?"

"Hunter!" Amity has to shout to get him to stop. She can't believe she is having this conversation right now. "Hunter. You do know that you have like, four parental adults in your life. Don't you?"

He blinks at her and his blank face tells her everything she needs to know. She wants to face-palm so bad right now. "What?"

Amity starts counting on her hand. "You call Camila Mama Camila."

"Wha- But that's just-", he splutters. Amity talks right over him.

"Eda calls you her Fledgling at least once a week and she and Raine are kinda a packaged deal. Grandma and Grandpa Clawthorne call you son so often, I don't even know if they know your real name. Every time Lilith fusses over your scars she mutters 'my poor boy' under her breath. And let's not forget Willow's parents who took one look at you and had the adoption papers ready." Amity looks at her hands, which have barely been enough to count on. "Oh look at that. Not four but eight, actually."

Hunter looks gobsmacked and not a little teary eyed. Amity pats his shoulders, just a little relieved that he has apparently forgotten about their parents budding romance over this new revelation. She'd rather not get involved in that for as long as possible.

"Face it, Hunter. You are pretty much public son number one at this point."

🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦

There is no reason for this except that I had the image of hunter saying "my dad has the hots for your dad" and me running with it

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house fanfiction #toh hunter #toh amity #the owl house hunter #the owl house amity #the owl house darius #the owl house alador #darius x alador #darius and hunter #aladarius

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yesimwriting · 7 months

Text

Of Angels

Part 2 of Of Angels (part 1)

A/n we're back! also this is a friendly reminder that this isn't supposed to be exactly like the movie/book, some things will be a little different bc of practicality, my ability to remember things, or just for fun/for me bc i have more fun writing when i can change things up

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

----

The potential consequences of Coriolanus's mistake don't fully manage to force their way to the front of his mind until the door clicks shut.

He's thrown himself, locked himself, in a contained space with the most savage and aggravated group of people in the Capitol. Just in an attempt to get you to trust him.

Coriolanus turns around as casually as he can manage, "Hello."

Unwashed faces blink up at him. Their expressions start off as blank, slowly but surely hardening as they take in his clothing and presence. Someone from the Capitol that isn't a peacekeeper.

One of the larger tributes begins to walk forward. The others glare at him, watching him with a silent rage that makes the space feel like it's shrinking.

The largest of them gets so close that Coriolanus has to push his body towards the vehicle's door. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you."

"Do you have any family back home?" The voice isn't strong, but it's so steady despite its smallness that one could mistake it for certainty. Despite the threat that stands in front of him, Coriolanus's attention instinctually shifts towards you. "Or any friends? Maybe a puppy you're fond of?" Your fingers are curled around the edge of the bench you're sitting on. "They'll kill them."

Your tone is too neutral for you to be speaking from personal experience, and yet, you sound so sure. Coriolanus wonders if there's something there worth digging into. Maybe it's just a byproduct of where you're from, a district that's prone to rebellion is often warned about what disobedience can lead to.

The tribute cornering him doesn't move away, but he stills, stiff and uncertain. You look between them innocently. "Besides, he's my mentor." Your hands loosen their grip on the edge of the bench, you push yourself to stand. "I might need him."

"Men-tle?" Another voice chimes in.

"Mentor."

"How come you get a mentor?" The tribute questioning Coriolanus's presence in association to you twists their neck to glare at you.

"You all get one," he forces the sentence out quickly. The last thing he needs to do is make you a target. Getting you to live is going to be enough of an uphill battle as is.

The tribute closest to him takes another intimidating step forward. "He's lying."

"She's the girl that volunteered," the red-headed girl from four--Coral, if he's remembering correctly--sneers, angling her head to glare at you, "Of course they need to keep an eye on her." She then dips her chin downwards, staring you down with mockingly soft eyes, "Is it everything you thought it'd be, princess?"

Volunteering did mark you. He wonders how many remarks you had to put up with on the way here and whether or not they've affected your mental state. The short exchange the two of you shared made you seem together. You weren't overly emotionally or even aggressively closed off.

The determined pout of your lips draws his attention more than it should. You then tilt your head with no warning, matching her condescending expression, "Better, actually."

You draw out the sentence, not once shrinking under District 4's cold stare. Coriolanus's expression instinctively shifts to hint at a smile. Your sarcasm isn't off putting or brash, it's refreshing. It's a flash of fight, of sharp teeth ready to be barred that he hadn't thought you capable of.

The display of potential aggression also doesn't affect your charm at all. Being able to strike back while still holding onto the appearance of kindness is a skill in itself. Coriolanus has to take everything on the cheek publicly to avoid coming off like a starving dog finally snapping.

Those kinds of remarks won't do you any favors in the arena unless you're the kind of person that has the physical strength or skill to back it up. You don't. It's more than just your stature, it's in the way you carry yourself. But still, maybe you'll be entertaining enough under this new structure to score him some points towards the Plinth prize. That is, if he can get you to trust him, if he can convince you to talk about your relationship with your cousin and maybe flash that smile you gave him when you first met for the cameras.

Coral's glare intensifies. She pushes herself to stand, as if to intimidate you, but before she can fully straighten, the world shifts.

Coriolanus doesn't have time to think. He's sliding--falling--back before he knows what's happening. A few of the tributes yelp, one of the younger ones squeaks. Something warm latches itself onto his wrist.

He blinks, his body finally reattaching itself to his mind. The vehicle opened and started dumping out its contents with no warning. In the panic, you had grabbed him.

The vehicle settles, anyone managing to hold onto the metal door looses their hold. Everyone tumbles down a small slope, a mess of bodies bumping into each other when they're not busy hitting the edge of rocks until they land in a heap on the ground.

Coriolanus sits up as soon as his back hits something solid. His head snaps around, taking in his surroundings. The space is made up of jagged, tan rocks coated in dirt. Bars line the perimeter--a cage. This is a cage. Of course following the animals leads to ending up in a cage.

Self disgust and panic knot oddly in his stomach. He stands before he can think of what comes next.

"And here we have them, the tributes for the 10th annual Hunger Games."

His eyes find the people already flocking the bars, the most notable one of them someone he's familiar with. Lucky Flickerman, a usual Capitol programming personality. This, his public humilation, is being streamed on television.

"Oh, and look--" Lucky turns towards him, the cameraman instinctually moving to get him into frame. Lucky turns back to the camera, addressing his audience, "I don't think he's supposed to be in there." He laughs then, the sound jabbing at Coriolanus's side.

An aggravated heat begins to burn through is chest. There's nowhere to duck, no excuse to remedy what he's done to the Snow family name.

"Hey." He blinks, surprised he didn't immediately jump out of his skin. How you stood up so silently is beyond him.

Coriolanus can't think of a way to respond. Here he is, in a cage on display with you, like he's one of the district born, and you're the one attempting to ease him. Confidence, assurance. That's what he should be providing you so that you feel the need to--

You place your hand over his. The contact runs just as hot as the humiliation searing through him, only, this is a different kind of warmth. A much steadier, much more agonizing sort of warmth.

His eyes finally find yours. You look more tousled than before, one of your hair ribbons missing and dirt smeared against the apple of your cheek. "Own it."

You whisper the instruction so confidently it almost feels like this is natural to you. Owning it does feel better than being consumed by his embarrassment and accepting the destruction of his family name, but part of the steadiness comes from you. The realization that you're capable of that claws at him.

He nods, eyes instinctually dropping to avoid your expectant stare. The white rose is still safely held between your fingers. He stretches a hand forward, taking the flower by its stem. Your eyebrows draw together, but you let him. Coriolanus breaks off the end of the stem and carefully tucks the flower behind your ear.

You hold still, even as he takes the time to smooth your hair into place.

"Well, that's not something you see every day." Lucky's voice snaps him out of it.

Coriolanus takes you by the arm, walking you up to the camera's. He keeps his expression as casually bright as possible. "I'm Coriolanus Snow."

"And who is she?"

He expects to have to answer that, but you give him your full name without missing a beat, your voice smooth and sweet like honey. "And who are you?"

The cameraman lets out a small laugh at your confusion. "Be nice," Lucky mumbles, "Not everyone has a TV." He then turns back to you, "I'm Lucky Flickerman, Capitol weatherman, TV personality..."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Lucky says into his microphone, "You're the girl who volunteered."

Coriolanus watches your reaction as best he can from his peripheral vision. Your lips pull downwards slightly. There's something almost sad about it, but it's done in such a respectable manner that he can't imagine anyone minding it.

You confirm with a slight nod of your head, "Yes."

Lucky takes the microphone back, "Now why would you do a thing like that?"

For the first time, a hint of cracking presents itself in your expression. It's minor, just the pull of your eyebrows, but he can't help but hold his breath as he waits for your reply. "For my cousin."

"And she's back home, right? You're from 12?"

You nod again, the motion small, "Yes. She's with my mother, her aunt."

"Well, that was a very brave thing," he commends, almost surprisingly serious, "Not many people are willing to die in someone's place." Your expression wavers, Lucky moves on before it can matter. "And you're?"

"Coriolanus Snow," he says smoothly, "I'm a student at the Academy."

"And you were...told to come here?"

Coriolanus breezes past the speculation in Lucky's tone, "I was told to present my tribute."

Lucky nods, turning on the easy, camera ready smile, "And present her you did."

"Excuse me," a tiny voice mumbles. You instinctually look down. A girl that can't be much more than maybe 7-years-old, "Who was the girl you volunteered for?"

You blink at the loaded question, "Uh--she's my cousin, and her name is Marigold, we--we call her Mari." The little girl blinks at you, watching you like you're something foreign. Which, he guesses, you technically are. "And you know what? She kinda looked like you when she was little."

The little girl beams, "I like your bows."

"Thank you," you hum brightly, like the compliment truly does mean the world to you.

You unlink your arm from his. Coriolanus watches you unsurely as you reach both hands to the side of your hair. You pull at the ribbon on one side of your head, unraveling it expertly. "Would you like one?"

The girl beams, nodding her head enthusiastically. You lean forward so that you're about eye level with the girl. You hand her the short piece of ribbon. The girl giggles before running off with her prize.

"Aw, isn't that cute?" Lucky's speaking to the camera as he starts to walk forward, "Come down, folks, and see these tributes before it's too late. And I do mean, too late."

Lucky disappears, walking as he continues to talk to his audience.

"You gave her your..." He gestures in the general direction of where the ribbon had previously sat.

You shrug, "Oh, I think the other one fell out on the way here. They're impractical, but I didn't--I didn't think I'd be in them for so long."

There's something he should say to you. Probably something comforting, assuring.

"Okay." The stern voice of a peacekeeper. Coriolanus should have known that it was only a matter of time. One of them clasps his shoulder, the other grabs his arm. "You're not supposed to be in here."

He's pushed back before he can speak to you. "Okay," he mumbles, "I'm go--"

You grab his arm before he can obey, "Bring us food." The words are hard, urging, "Please, I haven't eaten anything since before the reaping."

He nods once, pausing long enough to force the peacekeeper to push him back again. Coriolanus starts walking, flanked by the peacekeepers, his eyes trained on what's directly in front of him.

As they pass where the group had initially landed, his eyes find a bright speck of ivory white. A hint of brightness hidden by rocky dirt and grime. Your ribbon.

Coriolanus wonders if it's something you'd want back, something you'd spend your time searching for. You already gave away the other one, it can't have mattered that much. It's likely just some repurposed scrap.

He doesn't know what he's doing as he bends down under the guise of adjusting his shoelace. He's not sure what his goal is until his hand reaches forward, grabbing the ribbon.

"Okay," one of the peacekeepers hurries him, bending down to place a forceful hand on his shoulder, "Hurry up."

----

His apartment is heavy with silence. His grandma'am and Tigris have been asleep for hours now, resting the way he should be.

It's everything that's happened today. That's what's stealing sleep from him. There's a lot to do, a lot to think about if he's going to pull this off and win the Plinth prize. There's an uncertain charm about you. It's as if you have a greater understanding of what it's like to be civilized than the rest of them. That's something to work with, isn't it?

You mentioned needing to eat. Another obstacle that his financial predicaments have placed in his way. He'll have to take a risk he's taken so rarely--taking food from the Academy's lunch in order to bring you something. You'll be of no use to anyone if you faint in the arena.

There's more to think about, to plan. He could stop by tomorrow after his usual classes if Dr. Gaul doesn't orchestrate any specifics. And maybe even then. It'd be ideal to convince you that he cares about you more than any of the mentors care about their tributes. The more you think he's working for you, the more you'll work for him.

That's why he's awake. He shifts, moving from his back to resting on his side. All of this, all thoughts and analysis of you, are extremely practical.

He wipes at his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. He finds his discarded uniform, left folded neatly on his small desk. Without thinking, Coriolanus reaches deep into the uniform's pocket, digging through it until his fingers brush against something smooth and cool. He pulls out the partially stained, ivory ribbon. Truly practical.

----

Taglist (tagging people who were asking about part 2, if this is annoying, i'm so sorry pls lmk if you don't want to be tagged) : @juleshaters @cosmicsully @edb954 @h-l-vlovesvintage @darknessdevil25 @mavkaorlova @astarborntowrite @karmaswitch @daughter1of2anita3dearly @zucchinimalfoy @madislayyy @weaponb33 @darlingisntit @deamus-liv @etheriaaly @clintsupremacy @spookyconsultingcriminal @dylanstilinskiposts

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #coriolanus x reader

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soulofapatrick · 11 months

Text

I See You - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theodore steps in when Draco corners you Words: 1.8k Warnings: fluff really Notes: I blanked while writing this as I've had Theodore Nott brainrot recently so don't mind me if I post a few Theodore stories

Y/N’s POV

Today was meant to be a peaceful day with Harry still at Hogwarts with Remus and Ron and Hermione off giggling like a lovesick couple. Hogsmead is ever so pretty covered in a blanket of snow and the bustles of students here to have fun and buy each other last minute Christmas gifts. But, of course, I can’t have anything nice as I round the corner from where I left Ron and Hermione in The Three Broomsticks I bump into a familiar blond.

The sneer ever present on Draco’s face as he shoves me away from him, causing me to stumble and before I know it I’m on my ass in the not so pretty snow. I just shake my head, pushing myself up from the snowy ground, brushing the cold flakes clinging to my jeans. Draco’s mocking laughter fills the air, eyes narrow with distain as he looks down at me like I’m dirt under his shoe.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Weasley girl,” He sneers, tone dropping with derision, “As expected, stumbling through life like your family stumbles through poverty.”

I take a deep breath, refusing to let Draco’s words bring me down, his little jabs always hurting but I’m never gonna let him see it so instead I meet his gaze with a defiant glare, sneering back, “Does your mother always look at you like she’s stepped in shit?”

A flicker of something flashes across his face, but before I can decipher it he quickly regains his composure, “Watch your tongue, Weasley. You may think you're clever, but you'll always be just another insignificant blood traitor," he spits.

I stand my ground, refusing to back down. "Oh, Draco, I would rather be a blood traitor than a heartless coward who hides behind his family name and pure-blood arrogance," I shoot back, my voice filled with determination. "At least I know the value of true friendship and the strength that comes from standing up for what's right. Something you'll never understand.”

It all sounds so cliche and stupid but the surrounding students watching the exchange have mixed expressions, some wearing smirks of satisfaction at my words while others hold their breath, waiting to see how Draco will respond. But before he can retort, a tall figure steps forward, silently wedging himself between Draco and me. It's Theodore Nott, his typically enigmatic expression softened with a touch of resolve. Without saying a word, he calmly places a hand on Draco's shoulder and pushes him away, creating a safe space for me to stand. However, he may have pushed a little too hard as Draco stumbles backwards, momentarily taken aback by one his best friends apposing him let alone standing up to him.

Draco is tall but Theodore stands taller, an undeniable air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His raven black hair, somehow perfect tousled, frames his striking features, drawing attention to his piercing blue eyes that hold a depth of mysteries. There’s an intriguing allure about him, an enigma that seems to follow his every move.

With a subtle gesture, Theodore motions for Draco to dare take another step closer, the weight of his actions speaking volumes. The surrounding students, captivated by the unfolding scene, exchange whispers and glances filled with admiration and surprise.

Draco, shaken by the unexpected opposition from one of his closest friends, regains his composure. His pride wounded, he attempts to mask his disbelief with a haughty glare. However, the cracks in his facade are evident. It's a rare sight to witness someone challenge Draco, and the students relish in the spectacle, some fighting back grins of satisfaction and with one final sneer Draco turns on his heels and struts away.

There’s a flicker of concern behind Theodore’s piercing blue eyes as they shift their focus to me, a genuine care that sets my heart at ease. With a gentle smile, he takes a step closer, his voice resonating with a warmth that catches me off guard.

“Are you alright?” Theodore’s voice, smooth and velvety, reaches my ears like a soothing melody. I think it’s the first time I’ve truly heard him speak, and there’s a captivating timbre to his words - a perfect harmony of confidence and tenderness. I find myself momentarily entranced by his presence, the way he effortlessly brushes a bit of snow out of my hair, his touch sending a gentle shiver down my spine.

With a grateful smile, I reply, “Thank you Teddy, let me buy you a drink to make up?” The air around us seems to hold a certain electricity, a shared moment that lingers in the wintry atmosphere.

Theodore’s eyes widen slightly and I’m not sure if it’s at my offer or the fact I called him ‘Teddy’ without thinking about it, but either way, surprise mingles with the lingering warmth in his gaze. A hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he considers my proposition and after a moment of silent contemplation he’s nodding and accepting my invitation.

“Teddy?” He asks quietly, almost shyly, as we turn back and head towards The Three Broomsticks, the thoughts of Butterbeer already warming the chill working its way into my bones. A soft blush creeps up my cheeks as I meet his gaze, finding comfort int he genuine warmth radiating from him.

“Yes, Teddy,” I respond with a gentle nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “If that’s okay with you? It feels right.” The admission carries a sense of vulnerability, as if I’m opening a door to something new, embracing the familiarity that seems to have effortlessly blossomed between us.

A genuine smile spreads across Theodore’s face, eyes crinkling at the corners as he mumbles, “I like it.” There’s a softness in his expression as he speaks, a subtle shift in demeanour that draws me closer both physically and emotionally. I’m bumping shoulders with him lightly as he pushes open the door to The Three Broomsticks for me.

The air is thick with the aroma of freshly brewed Butterbeer, mingling with the comforting scent of wood and fireplaces. The low ceiling is adorned with an array of floating lanterns, casting a soft, golden glow that dances upon the polished wooden floors. The walls are adorned with aging tapestries and moving portraits that I still can’t get used to, having been introduced to the magical world when the Weasley’s adopted me just after my 9th birthday.

The tavern is filled with a harmonious blend of laughter and chatter, the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of magical fireworks, probably from some new toy Fred and George have created, punctuating the joyful atmosphere. The patrons, a mix of Hogwarts students and locals, gather in small groups at the wooden tables, engaged in animated conversations or enjoying a game of Wizarding chess.

Madam Rosmerta moves with grace behind the bar, effortlessly serving Butterbeer and other magical drinks. Her warm smile and friendly banter create an inviting atmosphere, making everyone feel right at home.

We make our way to the small table indicated by Madam Rosmerta, and as we settle down, Theodore takes the seat beside me. His presence is comforting, his arm casually draped over the back of my chair. It's a subtle gesture, yet it carries an intimacy that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through my veins. As he lean in closer to hear me other over the lively ambiance of the pub, Theodore's head ducks down, his voice a soft murmur that tickles my ear. The proximity between us feels both exhilarating and comforting, like a secret shared between kindred spirits. In the midst of the bustling crowd, we create our own little world, cocooned in the warmth of our connection. The laughter and conversations of the other patrons blend into the background, fading away as our focus rests solely on each other.

“You’re so beautiful.” The pads of his fingers brush lightly over my jaw, sending my face aflame as it’s something so unexpected and something so right. His voice is deep and full of genuinely which isn’t expected from Slytherins. Before either of us can say or do anything else Madam Rosmerta approaches with our drinks, a tray of steaming Butterbeer and a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Theodore’s hand moving away from me, his touch fleeting, but it sends a jolt of electricity through my fingertips, leaving me craving more. With a grateful smile, we accept our drinks, the frothy liquid adding a touch of sweetness to the atmosphere. The taste of the warm Butterbeer dances on my tongue, mirroring the warmth that spreads within me whenever Theodore's eyes meet mine.

With Madam Rosmerta’s retreating figure a sense of anticipation lingers in the air. I feel Theodore’s gaze intensify, his eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Without a word, he captures my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, guiding me gently toward him.

Time seeming to stand still as our lips meet in a surprising yet delicate kiss. The world around us fading away, leaving only the soft press of his lips against mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken promises and raw vulnerability. It has me melting into his strong presence, my body instinctively leaning closer. His touch both electrifying and gentle, as if he’s holding me with the utmost care. The taste of butterbeer lingering on his tongue adds to the intensity of the kiss, drawing an embarrassing sound from me.

As the kiss comes to an end, both of us breathless and wide-eyes, a hint of surprise flickers across Theodore’s features. He stammers, voice laced with a touch of flustered apology, “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to…”

But, before he can finish his sentence, I’m silencing him with another kiss, my lips pressing against his with a mixture of urgency and tenderness. It’s my way of telling him that he doesn’t need to apologise, a soft sigh escaping me when he brings a hand up to cup my jaw as the kiss ends just as sweetly. I’m whispering softly, voice a blend of relief and affection, “I’m glad you like me Teddy. I’m surprised you even see me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” His vice is low, eyes searching mine, a myriad of emotions swirling within them, thumb caressing my cheek as he leans closer, lips barely brushing mine and he murmurs four words that leave me speechless:

“I’ve always seen you.”

-----------

Harry Potter Universe Masterlist

New Tag List Form

#Theodore nott #theodoren nott x reader #Theodore nott fanfiction #Theodore nott x y/n #theodorenott x you #Theodore nott fluff #Theodore nott smut #Theodore nott angst #Theodore nott x hufflepuff reader #Theodore nott x female reader #Harry Potter #hpu #Lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott imagine #Theodore nott drabble #Theodore nott one shot

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faetreides · 2 months

Note

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

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roguerambles · 8 months

Text

Make Love, Not War

Record of Ragnarök - Leonidas x Reader x Apollo

Warnings - 18+ Only. Adult Situations.

This is just pure silliness based on an anon from @rukia-writes

(...but seriously, I'll be disappointed if we lose them both now--)

Enjoy the rambles!

"You invited him?!"

Leonidas was strong. Very strong. You very much liked how very strong he was, especially when he directed that strength into extremely pleasurable pursuits.

But right now you were throwing your entire body against his delightfully broad chest in a futile attempt to stop him from launching himself at Apollo.

Apollo sipped from his chalice, peering thoughtfully at you as Leonidas snarled wordless insults under his breath. "I wasn't aware you were inviting the brute, either."

"Will you both listen to me?" Your feet slipped against the floor as Leonidas pushed with the strength of a colossus, and you grasped at his shoulders in a bid to get his attention. "I want to--"

You were cut off by Leonidas's arm sweeping under you, yanking you roughly into the air. You yelped and grabbed at his shoulders as he practically tossed you onto the nearby bed, before continuing his warpath towards the Sun God. "You shouldn't have come here, Apollo."

The Spartan spat his name like a curse, and Apollo tossed his chalice aside carelessly, rising to his feet with a sharp sneer on his flawless face. "And why not? What will you do about--"

They were both angry and terrifying and hot and you were impatient. "By the Fates!" You yelled, pushing yourself onto your knees. "Will you both knock it off and fuck me already?!"

Both men's heads snapped in your direction simultaneously.

"What--?"

"Have you lost your damn mind--?"

You were determined, however. You stood up on the bed - the soft, wide, unjustifiably unused bed you intended to do many, many things on with the two glorious specimens of manhood in front of you - and grabbed at the helm of your tunic. "Take off your clothes." You ordered, yanking the fabric over your head.

Apollo and Leonidas stared at you, expressions blank. You wriggled out of your bottoms, smiling smugly to yourself as you caught their gazes wandering, a telling darkening in their eyes. You dropped down onto the bed, glaring up at them challengingly as quiet hung over the room.

Leonidas broke the silence first. "I'm not sharing you with him--"

"Your clothes are still on." You interrupted. Leonidas scoffed, shaking his head, his eyes flickering towards Apollo. The Sun God looked between you and Leonidas, and you were pleased to notice the way his eyes trailed over your form, before running over Leonidas with an unmistakable spark of appreciation.

Leonidas clearly noticed too, and bristled somewhat. "You aren't serious--"

Apollo shrugged, then began to slip from his clothes. He had a more slender build than Leonidas, but his body was sculpted to perfection, like one of those ancient statues made flesh. "I know two gods at once might be...intimidating for a mortal..."

Leonidas growled, and for a moment you feared he would swing at his rival. Instead he grabbed the helm of his shirt and tugged it roughly over his head, tossing it aside. The exquisite musculature of his body on display as he tugged at his belt, the powerful muscle of his arms and abdomen flexing and contracting with every movement. Both you and Apollo were staring. "Just try to keep up."

Both men turned to you then, their expressions reminiscent of hungry lions eyeing a particularly delectable gazelle.

You were pleased with their progress.

"Apollo? Apollo, open up!"

Ares banged his large fist against the door, while Hermes watched from behind him, frowning thoughtfully.

"I cannot believe it!" Ares growled under his breath, pausing in his actions to turn to Hermes with an indignant look. "He's going to miss the fight!"

Apollo was always a bit...flighty, but Hermes highly doubted he would simply skip out on something to deeply important. The pride of the entire Greek Pantheon was on the line, after all. "Perhaps he--"

The door swung open, and a very grumpy, very naked King Leonidas of Sparta stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous. "What?" He demanded, as though he were not addressing two sons of Zeus himself.

...Hermes could not think of what to say, while Ares spluttered in shocked confusion. Clearing his throat, Hermes tried to regain his bearings. Had they somehow come to the wrong room? But why was Leonidas not ready either--?

A familiar pair of arms slid around Leonidas's waist, along with a familiar head of golden hair coming to rest on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" Apollo mumbled, leaning in to press his lips against Leonidas's neck. "Come back to bed...they're quite eager for more...oh, hello Hermes. Ares."

....whatever Hermes had been expecting, it wasn't this. "Apollo...?" He began slowly, watching Leonidas's frown deepen, but he made no attempt to move himself from Apollo's embrace. "We...the Round will begin soon--"

"Oh, that's off." Apollo said cheerfully, reaching around Leonidas to grasp the doorframe. "Find someone to take our places. The three of us would rather not be disturbed."

"Three of you--Apollo--!"

"Thank you!"

The door swung shut once more. Hermes stared at it blankly, while Ares appeared to have been genuinely struck dumb, gawking at the empty space in front of him.

Hermes had no idea how he was going to explain this to Zeus.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok fanfic #shumatsu no valkyrie #ror leonidas #ror apollo #snv leonidas #snv apollo #ror leonidas x reader #ror apollo x reader #snv leonidas x reader #snv apollo x reader #record of ragnorak x reader #snv x reader #ror x reader

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iamnot-crazy · 3 months

Text

Pages of promise.

Chapter 2

Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard.

Trafalgar Law x reader

---

You sat on the railing separating the dock from the town as boredom gnawed at you. Your island sat in North Blue right before the entrance to the grand line and was renowned for its vibrant dyes and delectable berries. No one of interest ever arrived at your town except for the few Marines who swagger through town, restocking before their journeys into the Grand Line. At least until today.

A peculiar yellow vessel, unlike any you'd ever seen, sliced through the turquoise water. It was a ship? Emblazoned on its side was a jolly roger – a smiley face with 6 lines radiating from it. It was an odd jolly Roger not having cross bone many have but there was no doubt in your mind that it was a pirate ship. Your heart hammered against your ribs with a thrill you hadn't felt in years.

With a surge of adrenaline, you vaulted over the wooden railing and stalked toward the docked vessel. An interesting crew disembarked, all clad in white jumpsuits emblazoned with the same smiley face insignia as their vessel. Behind the crew trailed a man with a brooding expression and a floppy white hat perched on his head, sported a yellow hoodie, and held a large sword resting it on his shoulder. He must be the captain you thought as you watched him approach the dockhand and pulled out a pouch of coins.

With a mischievous grin, you climbed aboard the deserted vessel. Your fingers traced the cool, smooth metal of the hull, a stark contrast to the sun-baked wood of the other ships that you have seen. Peeking through a porthole, you gasped. Unlike any ship you'd ever seen, the interior was a labyrinth of gleaming corridors and unique technology.

"What do you think you're doing!?" A voice boomed from behind you. You spun around to find the captain glaring at you from across the ship.

Ignoring his scowl, bounced over to him, "I'm joining your crew!" You state joyfully before running around the man taking in his features.

"Like hell you are!" He growled as tried to turn around to face you.

"But it will be so much fun!" You jump onto his shoulders forcing him to stumble forward, overwhelmed by your boundless enthusiasm.

You push off the man and run toward the door leading to the inside of the vessel. "Hey! Stop!" The man yells at you running after you as you laugh running through the halls.

"What kind of ship is this!?" you question excitably as your fingers brush against any buttons they can find.

"It's not a ship it is a submarine." The man groaned breathlessly as he chased after you, "ROOM! Shambles!"

You were transported into arm's range of the man who grabbed your collar holding you still, "I don't know who you are but you are NOT joining my crew! And you are DONE poking around my sub!" His face grew red with anger as he spit in your face.

Undeterred, you flashed him your most innocent smile, deploying your best weapon, your puppy-dog eyes. His face twisted in discomfort by your expression. He quickly banished you from the vessel with a sigh and a flick of his wrist, transporting you back to the dock.

You pouted at your removal from the ship but decided that you were not done with the pirate crew and you ran into town finding your makeshift home on the roof of the town bar. You had a small cloth that made a tent to protect you from the elements it was not much but you called it home. The biggest benefit is that it was easy to pack up and you threw all your items into a worn leather satchel. Nestled amongst your meager belongings, lay a pristine sketchbook, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with the extraordinary tales you were about to tell

Returning to the docks you perched yourself on top of a barrel with a determined glint in your eye, you unstrapped your satchel and flipped open the sketchbook. The first page remained stubbornly blank, a canvas for the adventures to come.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from below, "Whoa, is that the Polar Tang?!"

You peered over the edge to see three figures approaching the docks. One is a tall man with a killer whale hat and a mischievous grin, beside him an impossibly cute polar bear mink, and a third man with a penguin perched atop his head.

"Is that what she's called?" you hummed, pencil hovering over the page. The three men crowded around you, mesmerized as you began sketching the submarine with a practiced hand. Each stroke brought the Polar Tang to life, capturing the sleek lines and the details you'd absorbed during your brief exploration.

"You're really good!" Shachi exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration.

"Amazing!" Bepo echoed, tilting his head to get a better look.

You grinned, a surge of pride warming your chest. "Thanks! Are you part of her crew?"

"That's right! We are the heart Pirates" Shachi confirmed, puffing out his chest. "I'm Shachi. This furry fellow is Bepo, and that's Penguin over there."

"And who is your captain?" You question curiously.

"Trafalgar Law." He responded with joy, "And who might you be?"

Your grin grew as you pulled your attention away from your sketch, "I'm Y/n! And I am joining your crew!"

The three pirates were taken aback by your bold statement and looked at each other in concern. But upon their lips, a smile grew and they all began to laugh. "And what will you be doing on our ship Y/n?" Shachi asked in between laughs.

"I'm going to capture your adventure! I am going to document the new era and I have a feeling your crew will be a large part of it!" You smiled as you spoke of your dreams with an unfeathered confidence.

"Well let me be the first to welcome you to the crew!" Shachi laughed smacking your back while grinning.

When Law emerged from the submarine he was surprised to find you surrounded by his entire crew admiring your work as Bepo posed in front of you as you added his addition to your journal. Upon seeing Law Bepo waved, "Captain! Have you met Y/n! She is going to record our adventures!"

Law's eye twitched. "New crewmate?" he sputtered, incredulous.

You, however, remained unfazed. With a confident smile, you flipped to the first page of the sketchbook and presented it to Law. On the first page, the Polar Tang gleamed in all its glory.

"I'm going to record your adventures," you declared, your voice ringing with conviction. Law stared at the drawing, then back at you.

He saw the spark of determination in your eyes, and a reluctant sigh escaped his lips. Shachi's and Penguin's enthusiastic endorsement and Bepo's silent plea with his puppy-dog eyes only sealed your fate.

"Fine," Law grumbled, his voice laced with resignation. "But don't get yourself killed."

As the Polar Tang submerged, plunging into the cool depths, you clutched your sketchbook, your mind already brimming with stories waiting to be told. From the electrifying battles you'd witness to the hilarious antics of the crew, you'd capture it all. The blank pages were no longer empty; they were a promise, a pact with adventure.

---

Chapter 2

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #writing #straw hat pirates #trafalgar one piece #one peice #one piece heart pirates

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unshieldedlizzy · 5 months

Text

Rejection....?

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

You had been crushing on your lieutenant ever since you joined Taskforce 141. Every time he was glaring at you, your face turned red; every time he walked past you, your face turned red; every time he called you by your code name, your face turned red; and every time he was close to you, your face turned red. His existence alone was enough to make you feel wet, yet you felt stupid. Stupid that you couldn't get closer to him, stupid that you'd get so shy around him, stupid that you'd always stutter and mix up words every time you answered a question or had a small chat with him, so stupid that every wrong move you made, you'd think it made him hate you. You didn't know what he thought of you though. I mean, the man barely knew you and definitely didn't want anything to do with you. But you didn't lose hope.

You've tried almost everything: you tried to be understanding, you tried to help, and you tried to get to know him better, yet nothing worked. Probably because you stutter like crazy and don't know how to talk with someone you secretly love. But what was the point if you could've spoken well to him? He just pushed you away, like he usually does to everyone, so that shouldn't affect you. But it did; it bothered you, it hurt you, and it made you feel miserable for even trying. You almost lost all of your determination, but you kept a small hope in yourself.

***

"I like you," you shyly said, not sure how you got here in the first place. Well, you spotted him a few months later, and you dragged him somewhere private, wanting to let out your feelings because it bothered you and hurt you. Ghost stood still, his expression not changing, his eyes glued to you, not really sure what to say. "...we're not friends." He gruffly replied. You slightly frown; that isn't what you meant, but his words still caused you to feel more and more impatient. You couldn't ignore the pain that affected your heart. "No...I mean like...I love you." You breathed out, trying your absolute best not to break down in tears. Ghost didn't say anything; he just looked at you while being silent, almost like he wasn't there. You gulped and began speaking. "Aren't you going to say something?" You whispered, "Anything?" You continued with desperation, hoping he could at least nod or shake his head—just anything—but once he opened his mouth, everything suddenly went blank.

************************************

You slowly opened your eyes; you felt dizzy—very dizzy. However, the first thing you saw was a white room. What on earth were you doing here—no, how did you get here? You whimper and started to look around; you are stuck at a table; something is holding you still, but you can't see what that is. "Ghost?" You softly cried out. "Stop projecting; are your delusions getting worse?" A female voice could be heard behind you. "What? Who are you? How...? why...?" you say, remaining speechless. What did she mean by "delusions"? What is happening? Who was she?! You thought with silent tears. The female voice couldn't be heard for a moment, almost like the woman spaced out, but soon enough, she spoke. "It seems like the asylum isn't working for you." ------------------------------------

A/N: Well, that was a plot twist. It seems like the reader was in an asylum, and poor Simon wasn't real—or any of the members of the Task Force. I was going to originally name this "imagination", but I thought it would spoil the twist. Sorry if this made zero sense. I wrote this at four in the morning and saved it to drafts because I was so tired, my eyes started hurting...woops 🤩😘😘😝🥰😍🤗❤️💗😚🤭

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod angst #angst #cod mw3 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #simon riley x y/n

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geekedoutbunny · 7 months

Text

Redson x Human Female Reader

Chapter 1.., , 2 , 3 NFSW , 4.. 5.., 6.. , 7.. ,

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

You, Princess Iron Fan, and Redson all stood before the chest. The chains on it glowed blue and the eye sockets glowed the same color. In the center was a lock but the keyhole was strange-looking. You stood on Redson's right side, your hands in the pockets of your sweatpants, a worried look on your face as you stared at the ominous chest. The ground vibrated when Demon Bull King stepped up from behind you all. You watched as he approached the chest, an evil yet cocky smirk on his face as he looked down at it. He reached forward, his sharp nail barely making contact with the lock as he spoke in pride. "Finally." He said before a shining light shined and he was pushed back with a confused grunt.

You looked over at him in confusion and shock before you looked back over at the chest and you saw a blue seal appear for a second before it vanished once more. You blinked in question as you thought over the symbols but the sudden shout of demon bull king made you jump. He shouted in rage his eyes blank in blind rage as he punched the chest, the blue seal appearing once more allowing you to get a good look at it. You, Redson, and Princess Iron Fan watched silently as DBK's punches picked up speed before he began slashing at the seal with frustration. "ANOTHER INFERNAL OBSTICAL KEEPING ME FROM MY DESTINY!!" He shouted as he continued his angry punches. He landed one more punch on the seal before everything went quite.

You watched closely waiting for something to happen, but in the blink of an eye, Redson wrapped his arms around you and he held you tight to his chest as he shielded your body with his right before an explosion of DBK's power pushed out making all of his minions go flying as they screamed. Your eyes closed tight as you held onto Red tightly, you could feel the hot wind blowing past you making you hold on tighter to Redson. It was soon over, the winds settled down and the green light vanished. You didn't open your eyes until you felt Redson pulling back from you, you looked around seeing dust floating past you. You looked over at the chest seeing the blue seal still glowing before it vanished once more.

"Patients, My Love." Princess Iron Fan whispered, her voice still loud enough for you all to hear. You silently agreed with her, because you honestly didn't want that chest to get open. If the seal is that powerful, shouldn't whatever is inside stay there? But DBK didn't take her words in kind as he turned towards her quickly, his large fist balled up as he glared down at her in raw anger. "I'VE BEEN PAITCENT LONG ENOUGH!!" I NEED THAT POWER!!" He shouted as he stepped closer to her. She gasped at his sudden outburst, and you felt Redson tense up next to you, he hated watching his parents fight, and watching his father get all aggressive with his mother so suddenly must've made him get into a slight defensive mode. You rubbed his arm and shoulder in comfort as you both watched her cautiously eyed him as she walked around him and towards the chest.

She placed her hand on the lock, the blue seal appearing naturally, she stood there a little longer before she grunted in frustration. "The power that crafted this tomb, is beyond my skill." She spoke with a grunt as she poured power into the seal only to have it repaled. "Without an artifact of equal strength, there's nothing we can do." She said as she turned her back to the chest, a determined yet angry glare in her eyes as she looked up at DBK. "We're locked out." She finished. You stared at her with a worried look before you relaxed with relief. 'Thank goodness, now maybe they'll bury it and forget all about it.' You thought. You looked around, suddenly realizing that Redson wasn't next to you anymore. "NOT FOR LONG!!" Came his confident voice. You looked over at PIF and you sighed when you saw Red. 'Dammit Red.' You thought in annoyance. PIF stared at him with an unamused face and you honestly couldn't blame her.

You watched as he swiped his hand through the air, 'dramatically of course' making holograms of several screens appear. You'll never get over seeing it, it'll always be so cool when they do that. "All we need is a key." He explained, like it was the most simplest and most logical thing in the world, and apparently, it was just that simple. "And look what I found." He said, his voice laced with pride. You watched as several smaller yet visible pictures appeared showing off a location before the key appeared. You walked closer to the group, stepping past DBK as you stood next to Red. You eyed the strange key, seeing the strange shape of it. The skull at the bottom of it made you feel uneasy as you looked up at the chest, the skull's eye sockets glowed a brighter blue and the sound of whispering sounded through.

You sighed in boredom for the thousandth time, scrolling through your phone, liking photos, laughing at videos, making funny short posts, reacting to weird videos and even reading some fanfiction. Your feet were up on the dashboard, your seat leaning back so you could be comfortable. You turned off your phone and you laid it down on your stomach. If you knew you were going to be this bored you would've taken your chance and stayed at the Bull Family home, cooped up in your room and trying to sleep. You rolled your eyes as you looked up at the building in front of you. "The Delivery Boy's apartment is honestly so depressing looking." You said aloud to yourself as you made idle observations of it for the hundredth time. You perked up when you saw an explosion. "Finally, looks like he finally got home." You said as you watched what little action you could see.

However, it didn't last long as you saw fire shoot up into the sky and the sound of Redson's laughter sounded out making you sit properly in your seat, adjusting it back to an upright position as you put your seatbelt on. By the time you got your seatbelt on, the truck heated up to an ungodly temperature as an orange glow lit up the truck. You looked up and you squinted at the bright orange flames of Redson as he came in through the diver's window. The flames morphed into his body and he flopped on the seat taking away the bright light and the heat with it. You sighed as the truck began cooling down watching Redson shift the truck into gear, his foot hitting the gas and he was off. He hummed a cute little tune, looking proud of himself as his other arm hung out the window. You watched in worry as the cars were pushed and spun out of the way as Redson plowed through the traffic.

You used to fuss him out about it and he isn't so prone to running others over as much as he used to, but he was in a rush this time around so you allowed him to get away with it this time. You looked out your side mirror and your eyes widened when you saw green lightning. You looked over at Redson, seeing that he hadn't noticed it yet. You gulped as you tightened your seatbelt, sticking your phone in your pocket as you readied yourself for the chaos that was sure to break out. "I should've stayed home." You muttered. Redson hummed at your words as he kept his eyes on the road. "Hmm, what was that darli- HUUG!!" He stopped mid-sentence as he just happened to look out his side mirror, doing a double take as he gasped dramatically at the scene behind him. You dared to look out your own side mirror, seeing the same motorcyclist from the race hovering in the air, her helmet gleaming in determination.

Redson leaned further out the window to look back at her so that he could rant to her. Your hand shot out and you instinctually grabbed the steering wheel to keep the truck stable. "CAN'T YOU AND YOUR LITTLE PEASANT FRIENDS LET ME PLOT IN PEACE, JUST ONE TIME!!?" He ranted, halfway threw he let go of the steering wheel, his anger clouding his judgment and you honestly couldn't blame him, it wasn't often that he took you with him on one of his little 'plans to dominate the world.' He could take these types of risks when he was alone, he was guaranteed survival since he was a demon, but you were just human, one mistake and it was all over. You kept a tight grip on the wheel before he turned back around and took back over the wheel. You pulled your hand away as you grabbed onto your seatbelt with an iron grip, flames shot from his eye sockets, making you nervous as you watched him press buttons on a yellow screen, shifting gears once more before his foot slammed down on the gas giving it more speed.

The speed of the truck made you sink back into your seat further as you watched the scene before you became a blurry mess. You screamed when the truck suddenly spun around, making you both drive backward. Your heart hammered away in your chest as you saw the motorcyclist before you, your eyes wide with fear as you looked into her dark helmet. She seemed to perk up at the sight of you, you waved but it didn't last long before you were distracted by Redson. "Take off your seatbelt, trust me you don't want to be in that seat for this." He said. You didn't question it as you took off your seat belt and you were immediately pulled into his lap. You didn't understand what was happening but you didn't question it as you got comfortable in his lap your arms locked around his neck. You looked back at your seat and you stared in confusion when it went above your head.

You looked up, seeing a hole where Redson's seat was before your seat pulled over closing the hole. You watched on in confusion your eyes shifting all around you as you heard metal shifting and unhending. Suddenly you both spun once more and you felt the truck bounce some before the entire truck suddenly went flying. You looked back over Redson's shoulder seeing the shell of the truck spin as it flew before it landed. You saw the motorcycle jerk out of the way and you sighed in relief. You didn't want to be in the area of a death, especially behind some old key. You looked around yourself and your brown arched. 'Isn't this... Redson's race car?' You thought. You looked over at Redson seeing him with his helmet on. 'Yup, it is.' You thought. He suddenly chuckled as he looked over his shoulder, he kept a hand over the steering wheel but it was still enough to make you nervous as you grabbed the steering wheel just in case.

"So long, Dragon... Horse girl... Hehehe, here's a tip, next time pick one animal in- OOF!!" "AHHHH!!" You screamed as a giant pole suddenly landed in front of the car causing you both to crash into it. You both went flying into the air still moving forward as you were lunched from the car. Fear gripped you at your throat as you watched the ground travel at a high speed below you. "I SHOULD'VE STAYED HOME!!!" You screamed as you neared the ground, but the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you snapped you from your fears as red covered your vision. Redson held you in his arms tightly trying to cover you as much as he could with his body as he skied and bounced along the ground. The sound of his breath huffing from his lungs made you cringe in worry as you clung to his coat, you grunted as you felt you both bounce off the ground, his body took the brunt of the force but it was still enough to give you aches and pains.

You and Redson finally landed with a harsh ski on the ground making him grunt as his grip on you tightened, the sound of metal clinging to the ground caught your attention and you looked up from his chest seeing the cursed key bounce a few feet in front of you. You glared at the cursed item, blaming it for all this mayhem. You flinched some in shock when two black shoes suddenly landed before you and a hand swiped the key up. "SO!! Looks like you've reached the end of the line, Redson." He said, you looked up at him, seeing the same guy from the race. "Delivery Boy." You muttered relief filling you as you watched him toss the key in his palm. You looked behind him and you saw the girl take her helmet off a frown on her face as she glared at Redson. She seemed to notice you, the look of relief on your face as you saw MK with the key made her arch her brow but she said nothing.

MK suddenly stopped tossing the key as he looked down at it curiously. "What were you even going to do with this thing anyway?" He asked. The blue chest came to your mind and you shuddered at the thought of it. There was a short silence among you all when a woman's voice sounded through suddenly. "Why spoil the surprise?" She said, you all jumped in surprise as you all looked over, seeing PIF standing on a small building. She seemed pleased as she gave a small smile as she pointed at the key.

"Now hand the key over, and quit wasting my time." She said, you all stared at her for a moment but it wasn't long before you heard the sound of the ground cracking under pressure before MK and Mei shot off over your and Redson's heads. PIF was quick to summon her fan, deflecting MK's attack from his pole. Mei jumped on the wall behind her, using MK as a distraction to try and get PIF from behind but she narrowly missed when PIF pushed MK back while also dodging her. They both pulled back for a moment before they both began attacking her, their movements like a blur before they suddenly stopped, the sound of a gong sounded out when their weapons clashed with the fan, and with a good swing, PIF was able to knock them both back into the building behind you and Redson making the key fall from MK's pocket.

The key bounced on the ground, landing in front of you and Redson, you stared at it in horror while Redson stared in glee as he hurriedly sat up, pushing you off with enough force to make you roll off of him as he scrambled for the key. You rolled on the ground for a second before you stood up, but it wasn't long before Redson grabbed your hand and rushed off with you toward his mother. PIF floated down gracefully, the winds surrounding her making her garments float. "Come Redson, we have things to do." She said as she stabbed her fan into the ground. Redson spun around letting your hand go in the process as you stubbled back behind him placing you between him and his mother. You and PIF watched him do a ridiculous pose as he shouted in victory. " THANKS FOR THE KEY, LOSERS!!" You gave him a sheepish smile while PIF shook her head before her winds picked up teleporting you all back to the lair.

You stood next to Redson as the lair appeared around you all, the winds dissipated, and you looked around and saw DBK getting up from his throne an expectant glare on his face as he approached you all. You watched silently as PIF held her hand out to Redson and he gave her the key which she then gave to DBK. It was silent as he turned toward the ominous chest the key gleaming in his hand as he held it up for a moment before he placed it in front of the keyhole. You all watched as the key suddenly changed shape and it floated into the lock unlocking the chest. You all stared with bated breaths, You reached over and you grabbed Redson's arm, your fingers digging into the cloth of his sleeve. The blue seal appeared once more but this time it dissipated, but it wasn't long before the lock shattered and a bright light shone through as a powerful wind blasted out. You clung onto Redson tightly but it was pretty fruitless as he began to get pushed back.

He grunted as he clung to you tightly while he tried to fight against the wind but it was useless as he continued to slide back getting picked up by the wind, you both shouted in panic as you both went flying back. Just like before he tried to shield your body as much as he could with his as he bounced along the ground, luckily was wasn't such a long drop as he was able to get a grip on the stone below him. He held you close to him for a while until the wind calmed down, he loosened his grip on you allowing you to lay on your stomach while under him allowing you both to watch from a distance. The doors to the chest slid open and Redson stood up in curiosity to see what was inside, you lay there a little longer before you sat up on your knees. "Red... Be careful." You cautioned as you watched in wonder and worry. He continued to step towards the chest until he was next to it.

"B-bones?" He gasped out. You held your breath your hand coming up to your heart. 'It made sense now why Lady Iron Fan called it a 'Tomb'.' You thought. But Redson didn't seem to be bothered with it as he sounded rather upset. "I-it's just... bones!?" He said irritation laced in his voice as he spoke. You sat there for a moment, calming yourself down as you looked down at your lap. 'Guess I was worried about nothing.' You thought as you smiled tiredly, you were snapped from your thoughts when Redson suddenly shouted. "AHH!!" He shouted you looked up in worry as you watched him grunt in annoyance and disgust as he waved his foot around trying to get a blue light off his foot. You watched in curiosity as he fought with the blue blob. 'It looks like a soul kind of.' You thought as you watched it and Redson.

Redson stopped to take a breather as he gasped for air but he paused when he noticed his mother. You looked over at her, seeing her stare up into the air with a slightly worried stare. It made your heart skip a beat as you followed her gaze. You stared on in shock and confusion as you saw chunks of the chest floating in the air, blue markings all over the pieces. There was a sudden gust of wind but instead of pushing you back, it felt like it was sucking you in. You braced yourself on the rocks as you looked around for the source, your eyes widened when you saw it was DBK. He laughed evilly as the blue source was adsorbed into his power bank, the sight of the bull clones suddenly standing up with an unnatural movement caught your attention, you watched as their eyes turned blue almost soulless. You shivered in fear as you hugged yourself, backing up as you watched the scene unfold before you. "Aww man, I knew opening that box was a bad idea." You muttered.

You, Redson, and PIF watched as DBK Lost himself to glee in his newfound powers. The pieces of the chest floating around him, seemed to create a symbol but you couldn't make sense of it. You all watched as the bull clones all got up one by one, their blue soulless eyes staring you all down. The sound of his laughter could be faintly heard mixed with a whisper as it ran out around the caves.

"Freedom."

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

#lmk x y/n #lmk fanfiction #lmk x reader #lmk #lmk red son #lego monkie king x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid fanfiction #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid red son #lmk redson #redson #redson x reader #redson x y/n #redson fanfiction

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astrozuya · 1 year

Text

☆ KISS ME 一 c. yj

✧ pairings: choi yeonjun x gn!reader

✧ genre: fluff. wc: 1.1k. warnings: non idol au. yeonjun being a little shit + y/n being an idiot. lowercase intended. soft drabble about having your first kiss with best friend!yeonjun. ♡

sometimes you really, really hate choi yeonjun.

sure, he's your best friend— the one who knows you inside out, who's been by your side since the two of you were kids— but one thing that hasn't changed since then is how painfully, annoyingly oblivious to your feelings he is. and it's not like you're subtle about it either.

the way you're always stealing glances at him, your eyes fixed on his eyes or his mouth even when you should be paying attention to something else.

casual touches that linger a little too long, a hand on his sleeve or your shoulder bumping against his.

how you've recently started letting your eyes fall on his lips more and more often, mentally tracing the curve of his upper lip as you daydream about kissing him.

you've had enough of this achy, lovesick feeling in your stomach. and that's why you've decided, tonight's the night you're going to kiss that idiot and make him fall in love with you.

you know you're hot. you've received enough attention from other people— maybe you're not as popular as yeonjun, but you'd like to think that you're a pretty attractive person.

and sure, you haven't really kissed anyone before, but you're confident that you'll be good at it. how hard can it possibly be?

and that's why, when yeonjun tells you he's holding a sleepover at his house, you're the first to accept his invitation. it's somewhat annoying that he's also invited soobin and beomgyu, but you can work around that. you just have to get him alone.

the sleepover itself passes by quickly. you've known soobin and beomgyu for as long as yeonjun, and though they're a pair of idiots, you like those idiots. and usually, spending time with them is fun, but today, you're anxious, simultaneously dreading and counting down the seconds until the others go to sleep and you and yeonjun are left alone.

it happens sooner than you think, because soobin decides to go to sleep early and beomgyu yawns and follows him, lazily waving goodnight to the two of you.

and now you and yeonjun are alone. just the two of you. together.

you're internally panicking when yeonjun casually asks, "are you sleepy?" and starts setting out a futon for you next to his bed.

you feel like smashing your head into a wall. how could you possibly be sleepy when you're this nervous?

you're still mustering up your courage as yeonjun turns the lights off and sits down on his bed, yawning.

feeling determined, you take a deep breath and glance at yeonjun. the moonlight filtering in from the window is bright enough to light up the room, softly shining on your faces.

"hey. jun." you swallow nervously. "kiss me."

yeonjun blinks once, then blinks again. he tilts his head in confusion, before shrugging and leaning in…

your heart thuds in anticipation.

…and then he places a light kiss on your cheek.

you hit his arm, exasperated. "that was cute, but i meant like, kiss me kiss me."

yeonjun's expression is unreadable. "why?"

you look away, avoiding his gaze. "i- i need to practice. i'm going on a date tomorrow. you know i haven't kissed anyone before, so, um…"

yeonjun frowns. you're not sure why. then he nods, as if making a decision. "okay."

and before you can register his answer, he leans in, grabs your neck and presses a kiss to your lips.

the breath is knocked out of you and your head goes blank. his lips taste like the strawberries he ate earlier, and instinctively, you bite down on his lower lip.

yeonjun pulls away, touching his lip, before softly laughing. "did you just… bite me?"

your face feels warm. "NOT ON PURPOSE."

he laughs again, and you huff. you have to make him fall in love with you. you can do this!

you grab his chin and tilt his head up, locking eyes as you lean in… and then yeonjun starts giggling.

you glare at him, trying to keep a straight face as he giggles some more. "y/n… i hate to break it to you, but you suck at this."

you narrow your eyes and he laughs again, covering his mouth and spluttering, "sorry, SORRY! wait a second."

yeonjun clears his throat, suddenly serious, quietly observing your features. his eyes pierce into you as he softly murmurs, "then i guess i'll just have to show you how it's done, huh?"

and then he's kissing you, properly this time, one hand cupping your face and the other steady against your back.

it's clumsy, and hot, and lasts until you're breathless and dizzy, heart thumping. your hand has somehow made it's way into yeonjun's dark hair, and he's breathing heavily as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"wow," you whisper, and he nods. then suddenly the atmosphere is awkward again, and you move away from each other.

"so who're you going on a date with tomorrow?" yeonjun's face is blank, but there's a hint of something in his tone- something that makes you think maybe your love isn't as one sided as you'd previously thought.

you take a deep breath, and stare straight at him. "my date is with… you, hopefully."

yeonjun blinks in surprise. "huh? me?"

"if you want. i mean, i lied, earlier. i don't have a date with anyone. i just really wanted to kiss you, that's all."

yeonjun's eyes light up as his mouth lifts up into a teasing smile. "oh, really?"

"don't," you groan, as he places a hand on your thigh and says, "you really wanted to kiss me, huh? that's cute, y/n, tell me more~"

you stick your tongue out at him, flopping over onto your side and burying your face into his pillow. "fuck you."

"is that your way of asking me on a date?" yeonjun asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

you look up, before nodding determinedly. "yeah. go out with me, choi yeonjun."

"okay!" his answer is immediate.

your eyes widen. "wait, really?"

yeonjun nods, deadpan. "your idiotic personality and terrible kissing skills have bewitched me heart and soul."

you throw a pillow at him.

he avoids it easily, before sitting in front of you, grabbing your hand. "when you said you were going on a date earlier, it made me… really mad. i like you, y/n. i've liked you for a while now. i was just scared, i guess. that you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."

you smile. "that was so cheesy, i have goosebumps."

now it's his turn to hit you with a pillow. you fend off his attacks, laughing as he wraps his arms around you.

"so, since i'm your boyfriend now, does that mean you're going to sleep in the same bed as me?" yeonjun grins.

"uh, you snore, so no way," you reply, but dont move away from his arms all the same. "now kiss me again, idiot."

…maybe you didn't really hate choi yeonjun after all.

✧ notes: wow this is terrible. i am going to post it anyway! ^_^ not proofread btw i wrote this on a whim at like 6 am anyways live laugh love yeonjun <3

#yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #txt x gn reader #yeonjun x gn reader #yeonjun x male reader #txt soft hours #yeonjun soft hours #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #kpop x gn reader

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cheshirewriter01 · 17 days

Text

Happy penguin huntings

Law x reader

Summary: you demand your first kiss with your grumpy boyfriend.

Down the halls of a quaint little submarine, a huffy woman stomps her way through.

'Three weeks, three weeks me and law have been dating and I haven't gotten a kiss yet... I don't think I approve... So then... where is he?' she thought with a frustrated eye twitch.

Patience was never y/n's virtue, especially when it came to having an ungodly sexy boyfriend with the most kissable lips... Or at least she thinks they are, she's about to find out because his ass is being too slow.

And law? Well, he's just a shy inexperienced bean, he doesn't mean any harm, but sometimes even beans need a little push.

Three mildly vicious knocks startled the captain from his load of paperwork he was absorbed in whilst he was settled in his desk located in the medical bay.

He quickly returned to his work after muttering a quick 'come in,' only mildly hearing the door open and shut.

Y/n wasn't having it though, she wanted his full attention, and she was going to get it.

Sauntering herself next to his old leather chair she lightly kicked the wheels of it to gain his attention. "Law, get your nose out of your work for five seconds and acknowledge me!" She finished with a huff to show her exasperation.

He slowly set down his pen, releasing an irritated huff himself as he turned his chair to look in her direction, an unamused expression adoring his handsome face.

"I'm clearly busy y/n-ya, unless it's important, then it can wait until later." he went to reposition his chair towards his desk again when her hand shot out and grabbed the arm rest of it, forcing him to continue looking at her. He now noticed her irritated face, although he found it more adorable than anything, like an angry chipmunk.

"This is important, and it can't wait til later, absolutely not!" her voice increased at the end, growing even more agitated with his uninterested behavior.

A glare was passed her way, both for interrupting his work this long and for raising her voice at her captain, 'only she could get away with such a thing' he mused.

"Is someone on the crew injured?" he asked.

"well no"

"dying?"

"also no!" her eyes were growing wider with frustration.

"Are we being attacked?"

"Seriously you jerk, does it sound like we're being attacked!?"

"Exactly so what the hell is so important then hmm?" he asked with a raised brow as he settled back in his chair, a stupid smirk on his face, suddenly enjoying this short game of pushing her buttons after working on papers for so long.

He can't be a romantic, but he sure knows all the right ways to piss someone off, then again she was quite short tempered.

"No one's hurt, no one's dying, we're not being attacked, everything's fine, I just need you to fricking kiss me already!"

And as quick as his smirk came, it also left, leaving him with a blank face and he processed what exactly she just said..

".. w-what did you just?!" a fervent blush came across the captain's gave that he attempted to hide to no avail, due to the sudden shock of what she just said to him.

"y/n-ya you can't just spout random shit like that out of nowhere, you damn brat!" he glared at her from underneath his hat, still not quite making eye contact with her anymore.

A poor attempt to cover embarrassment with anger really. The only time his personality does a 180 like this is when she's so bold towards him.

Ignoring what he said, she carried on, determined to get way. "Are you gonna do it or not, I want a kissss, lawww, kiss meee!"

"would you keep it down before someone hears you dammit! " he yelled in a hushed whisper, a crimson color quickly returning back to his cheeks.

This only egged her on more continuing to whine even louder.

"Okay! Okay, I'll k-kiss you, just shut the hell up!" he quickly stood up attempting to cover her mouth with his hand, which only resorted in it being licked, a cold glare was thrown her way for that, one which could cut down enemies itself, yet, she only giggled in response.

"Why do I date you again?" he mused in playful confusion.

Pretending to be hard in thought, she responded shortly after.

"Hmmmm, because I'm cute and I make your life interesting?" she spoke with a coy smile on her rosy lips, lips he suddenly couldn't look away from after she brought the topic up...he won't lie, he has thought about kissing her before, multiple times, he just hasn't figured out how to go about it...until now.

"you make my life something alright." he scoffed

"Ohhhh but you didn't deny thinking I was cute, oooh captain thinks I'm cuteee!" She tattled the confession to the almost empty room like a middle school girl teasing her crush.

He simply rolled his eyes in return, determined to make her shut up, which he succeeded in seconds later after he quickly took a large step towards her, bodies becoming mere inches apart.

She immediately shot her eyes up to his once again smirking face, words suddenly lost in her throat at the sudden close proximity.

A more shy smile crossed upon her face, regardless of all her teasing, he does still make her nervous, can you blame her?

"You finally gonna give me what I want cap?" She spoke in a whisper as his large tattooed hand slowly rose up to cup her delicate face, bodies once again moving closer, she could feel the heat from his chest radiating onto hers.

"I know it's a hard task but if you stop talking I will" his other hand grazed the middle of her back, pushing her completely into him now as his face grew ever closer, she wanted to be mad at his response, but how could she when the only thing she could focus on right now was his devilish lips mere millimeters apart from her own now?

'where the hell did all his shyness suddenly go?' she still managed half a thought, pouting slightly, only tempting him further more as her plump bottom lip stuck itself out slightly more.

He was definitely still nervous, never having been so close to someone to even consider having a romantic relationship... and he just had to find someone even more blunt then himself.. but right now, the opportunity to finally feel her lips against him, was making his head so fuzzy with desire that he couldn't think about much else, working completely on instinct at the moment.

Lips slowly and cautiously brushed against one another to test out the waters, breathes hitching at the first contact, before law delicately placed his lips upon her closed ones, letting out a soft sigh of success.

His lips were definitely kissable and much softer than she had ever thought, and she was loving it, never wanting this moment to end between them.

Her hands gripped onto the front of his yellow hoodie to keep herself grounded, as she carefully pressed her lips more firmly to his, wishing for deeper contact. He happily obliged and returned the favor, slowly deepening the kiss to both of their pleasure.

Time and time again they separated and repeated the action, soft sighs and grins coming from the both of them as they enjoyed this tender moment between them. The kisses stayed pure and sweet, simply enjoying the feel of the other so closely. More passionate kisses can come at a later time, for now this was more than enough for them.

Once they separated for the last time, they layed their foreheads upon one another, slight catching their breath. She could feel his increased heart rate under her palm located on his chest, making her smile softly.

Once they lifted their heads to look at one another, it was clear you could see the adoration they had for each other in their eyes, no matter how much they love to bicker, they loved the other more.

And of course her being the playful brat she is, she had to have the final say, so with a happy grin on her face, she patted him on the chest and gave him her best smile.

"Thanks for the kiss cap, you can get back to work now."

And she turned around and happily waddled out of the room, like a penguin who just succeeded in her hunt, a soft click of the door was left in her absense.

And an exasperated captain.

A small grin rose to his face as he plopped back in his chair, staring at the door she just left from.

"What am I going to do with you.. Y/n-ya."

#law x reader fluff #Shy law #Romance #Lovers #cute fluff #onepiece #Trafalgar law

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pokopippitypop · 1 year

Text

Eddie needs a break.

Shitty pop music has been blasting in his eardrums for the better half of the night and if he had to listen to one more preppy asshole try to talk him into giving them a discount, he was going to go rabid and bite someone.

The second it seems there was no one scowling at him or watching him in any way, Eddie packs up his tin box and slinks out of the kitchen and closer to the front of the house, where he'd previously passed the staircase. God, he didn't even know whose stupid house this was but the decor had been pissing him off all night. Upstairs was no better, just white walls and scratchy beige carpet. Eddie takes a moment to consider the ugliest painting of an empty vase he's ever seen. Who the actual fuck would want to look at this? The music is still dully thudding in his brain as he lurks deeper into the upstairs of the house and down an unlit hallway. He could finally breathe up here, no flashing lights or droning music or stuck-up rich kids, just a nice dark corridor, maybe there was even a bathroom up here he could smoke in for a minute. Just a short break, one more round for potential buyers and then he's outta here, he tells himself. Eddie surveys the selection of doors before him, trying to determine which would most likely be a bathroom and settles on the end one that's been left slightly ajar.

Eddie's jaw all but drops when he gently pushes the door fully open. Not a bathroom and also most definitely not empty. There are two boys pressed together, leaning up against the room's desk and very much making out. Eddie blanks for a moment, far too caught up in being suddenly treated with the vision of strong hands sliding up under the back of one of the guys shirt and the soft, breathy sounds they're making together and- for fuck's sake this really isn't a safe place for these two idiots, the door wasn't even shut!

"Dudes-" the two jolt apart and Eddie's next words die in his throat as his brain decides to absolutely fry itself because holy shit, holy fucking shit that was Steve motherfucking Harrington now glaring at him with dark, startled eyes and wet, red lips. What the actual fever dream was going on here? The other boy just bolts, head down as he brushes past Eddie. Eddie doesn't even turn to look at him, just stands in the doorway clutching his tin and gaping at The Steve Harrington and having not a single clue how this situation is supposed to go. Before Eddie can even begin to think of anything to say or do Steve pulls himself to his full height and is dragging Eddie by the collar of his jacket into the room. Steve slams Eddie up against the wall, his forearm pinned across Eddie's chest almost painfully.

"The fuck are you doing, Munson? Creeping around my house, like the little freak you are. You didn't fucking see anything, got it?" Steve demands sharply, "no one'll believe you anyway but if I hear you've been running that big mouth of yours, I'll ruin you, yeah?" Steve jerks Eddie against the wall roughly. "Got it?" He scowls meanly, waiting for an answer.

Eddie just looks at Steve, can feel his pulse hammering against his chest. His eyes, although dark and angry are too frantic, too pleading for Eddie to take his threats at a surface level. Eddie knows the feeling, the terror of being found out. He can see it in Steve's face now. He's more scared than anything, fear blatantly etched into his expression, the snarling anger very thinly hiding the fact that Steve Harrington was terrified.

“Steve, hey, Steve it’s okay, I'm not gonna tell anyone. I promise, it’s cool, man," Eddie starts softly, still trying to push aside his shock at the situation. "I’m uh well come on surely you know about me,” Eddie fixes him with a titled little smile, trying for a playful, calming tone, “I’m gay too, dumbass."

Eddie watches as Steve seems to calm down a little and properly assess who he's talking to. His hand against Eddie's collar twitches and he seems to be deep in thought for a moment before looking back down at Eddie, his eyes having lost their desperate edge. Steve lets out a breath, pushing back from Eddie slightly, “I’m not gay.”

Eddie can't help but to snort, “I dunno man, kissing boys at parties is pretty gay, Steve.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve snaps, releasing Eddie with a pissy little shove, but there's no real bite in his voice anymore.

“Uh huh, sureee oh! and if you ever wanna casually make out with a boy, you know, in a very straight way, let me know yeah?” Eddie offers just to rile him up.

“No, Eddie, I’m bisexual.”

Eddie pauses and stares at Steve, not even trying to not seem fully surprised. Steve is just watching him expectantly with a mildly annoyed yet unsettlingly genuine expression. Eddie just blinks at him dumbly before taking on his favourite shit eating grin.

“That’s a big word for you, Harrington. Congratulations.”

Steve rolls his eyes, his defensive stance melting away into a hand on his hip as he moves away to lean against the desk again. “Jesus Christ, you're a real little shit, aren't you?” He scoffs, very obviously trying not to smile and God, if that doesn't just simultaneously kill all of Eddie's brain cells. Eddie is back to staring at Steve blankly, taking in his messed up hair and the way it droops softly over his face, the way the denim of his jeans sits oh so snugly against his hips, how the sleeves of his stupid polo shirt cut across the muscle of his biceps, the shadow of his eyelashes, how stupidly pretty his eyes are. Eddie is suddenly being confronted by many thoughts and possibilities that he would never have even dreamed of including Steve Harrington in. It had been so outside of Eddie's bounds of reality that he hadn't even fantasized about this, but dear God the floodgates were open now.

“Well, uh my offer still stands.” Eddie cringes at his own voice, scolding himself for practically throwing himself at goddamn Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve smiles at him, his eyes flicking over Eddie and holy shit, holy fucking shit Eddie was well and truly fucked.

“Uh huh, and was that the offer to make out with you in a straight way?” He asks sarcastically, with his prissy little smirk.

Eddie just shrugs, totally chill and feeling incredibly normal and sane about this situation, “or in a gay way, I’m not too picky.”

Steve eyes him with a wide smile, “Oh, so you’re easy, are you?”

“Steve Harrington!” Eddie gasps dramatically, a hand over his heart, “I am not! You gotta at least buy me dinner first, sweetheart." Eddie knows he’s lying out loud, he would sleep with Steve at the drop of a hat. From the look on Steve’s face, he knows this too.

Steve's looking at him with lingering eyes and this devilish little grin, "I'm sure I could manage that," he muses.

Eddie must have some insane automatic cockblock protocol installed in his brain though because just when Steve is looking at him like he could eat him alive Eddie blurts out, "you should go find your friend, your boy, uh that guy that- ya know, he's probably freaking out, man but I didn't see who it was, so, tell him not to worry." Eddie finishes his reel with what he can actually, physically feel in an awkward smile.

Steve's hungry expression drops into something soft and affectionate and, nope that's somehow worse. Eddie's stomach goes all fluttery because now Steve Harrington is truly just looking at him. He breaks out into this cute little, appreciative smile, head tilted as he considers Eddie for a moment. Steve runs a hand over his face, and Eddie mourns every second he can no longer see that smile. Steve finally sighs and stands up from leaning on the desk, glancing at the door, "Yeah, shit, you're right, I don't want him getting all paranoid."

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees lamely.

Steve doesn’t make a move to leave though, looking back at Eddie and shifting awkwardly, “uh, sorry for threatening you and shit, man, I was just... you know.” He makes a lame hand gesture in the place of elaborating.

“Nah man, I get it, you’re all good, just close the fucking door next time, better yet, lock it. For fuck’s sake you gotta be careful with this Steve.” Eddie scolds lightly.

Steve signs and looks to the floor, “yeah, I know.” Steve just nods once, easily dismissing the topic. He looks back up and finally moves to the door, pausing to give Eddie one last famous Harrington grin. “I’ll be seeing you around, Munson.” Steve practically promises, like it’s a request rather than a simple goodbye, before slipping out into the hallway.

Eddie stands there for several minutes, gaping at the empty space Steve had just left, wondering if he was going to wake up tomorrow morning and find out this was all some convoluted wet dream.

hi hi :) might add to this (might not)

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fic #my post

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riotwritesthings · 1 year

Text

for the soul

WinterIron, T, 1.7k - Fluff, Humor, Established relationship, cooking as a love language

In which there is lasagna, kisses, and an undetermined number of gnomes

I swore to myself the next thing I updated would be BTY. That... clearly has not happened ahaha.

While I'm having a little ol' major writer's block, plz enjoy this little fluffy thing I wrote for @gayspacesprinkles awhile ago and just found and finished up

---

"Tony?"

"Shit!" Tony swears as he jumps up from where he's squinting into the oven, nearly cracking his head on the handle in the process.

He spins to find Bucky standing in the kitchen doorway, a carefully blank expression on his face. Bucky is still wearing his boots and tac-vest, but he at least seems to have finally given in to everyone begging him to leave his rifle and masks in the hangar. It means Tony can see it when the corner of Bucky's lips starts twitching up, when Bucky swallows hard like he's trying to fight down laughter.

"Shit," Tony says again, his shoulders dropping a little, and when Bucky raises an eyebrow he hurries to add, "I mean, how long have- when did you- fuck..." He trails off helplessly as Bucky's smile gets wider and wider, and in the end, Tony can't do anything but grin back and wave weakly as he says, "Hi."

"Hi," Bucky says back, warm and fond, before looking around the kitchen and asking, "What happened in here?"

"Uh," Tony says slowly, looking around the disaster area of the room himself and wincing because he hadn't realized it was that bad, "well-"

"Did the evil lawn gnomes get in again?" Bucky guesses, walking further into the kitchen and stepping over a spilled bag of flour in the process.

“Those were mini doom bots, and I'm pretty sure they were supposed to be based on monkeys," Tony says, trying to quickly and subtly wipe away all the shredded cheese somehow clinging to his shirt, "also... yes, let's go with that. The monkey gnomes got in again, and I am definitely not the one who made this mess."

"Definitely not," Bucky says agreeably as he comes to a stop in front of Tony, still smiling widely.

He starts to lean in but then hesitates, second-guessing himself, and Tony has no problem meeting him halfway. So he leans in to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips, still thrilling at the fact that he can and Bucky may have only been gone a week, but it was long enough for Tony to start wondering if he’d somehow dreamed all of this up. Too good to be true or not, it’s apparently real because when he pulls back Bucky’s eyes are still closed and his smile has gone soft and a little wobbly.

“Welcome home,” Tony says, his own voice coming out breathless and a little unsteady, and his heart trips over itself in his chest when Bucky’s eyelids flutter open to reveal his blue eyes practically shining with happiness. “I, uh- I made you dinner,” he adds, a little sheepishly.

“It looks more like you made me a mess,” Bucky points out, glancing around the kitchen again.

“We’ve already determined, that was the monkey gnomes,” Tony says flatly, trying so hard not to break out into a smile as well when Bucky grins at him, “and in my defense, JARVIS was supposed to tell me when you were almost back.” He finishes that statement by glaring pointedly up at the ceiling, although to be honest the fifteen-minute heads-up he requested wouldn’t have been nearly enough time to clean all of this up. Still, at the very least his AI could have let him not be caught completely unprepared.

“My deepest apologies, sir,” JARVIS says, not sounding apologetic at all.

“In his defense, we did lose communications in the jet on the way back,” Bucky says, but Tony waves him off.

“Apologize to the drive-through box I’m going to put you in,” Tony grumbles at JARVIS and then turns his attention back to Bucky, a nervous smile growing on his face again as he adds, “I thought it would be nicer to make it from scratch, but I didn’t realize how messy from scratch is, how does anyone cook like this?”

“I think you might just have a skill for it,” Bucky says thoughtfully as he looks around the kitchen again, barking out a laugh when he notices the food processor in pieces on the floor.

“Okay, that one was my fault,” Tony says with a wince, “don’t tell Thor.”

“It looks like you threw it off the roof,” Bucky says, sounding impressed, and Tony grabs his hand to try and pull his attention away.

“It deserved it for what it did to my tomatoes,” Tony says dismissively, “now don’t look at that, pay attention to me.”

“Gladly,” Bucky says, looking far too amused, and then raises one hand to brush… something off Tony’s jaw. “So what’s the occasion?”

“Well, since your mission got in the way of our third date—“

“Fourth,” Bucky interrupts, grinning.

“Third,” Tony says firmly, “we agreed we wouldn’t count the park after the incident.”

“You agreed,” Bucky says, “I’m going to be laughing at the videos of you running away from a goose for years.”

“Geese are terrifying!” Tony insists for the thousandth time, mostly just for the way it always makes Bucky laugh extra hard, his head thrown back and his nose scrunching up. “Anyways,” Tony says pointedly, “for this, our third date, I thought I’d try and make you something special.”

“A mess,” Bucky says, nodding.

“I changed my mind, no lasagna for you,” Tony says with a sniff as he turns back to the oven, but he doesn’t even try to fight down his smile while Bucky makes whining noises of complaint behind him.

Once the lasagna is out of the oven and cooling on the counter, they both stare at it in silence for a moment.

“So, uh…” Tony says slowly, “There might actually be no lasagna for you.”

“It… doesn’t look that bad,” Bucky says, but his eyebrows are slowly crawling up his forehead.

“You’re too kind,” Tony tells him, patting him on the shoulder, “but you’re also a liar. Look at it, I followed the recipe exactly, how does it look both mushy and half-burned?!”

“Well—“

“There are noodles in there somewhere, I swear, I made them myself!” Tony says, a little manically, and Bucky huffs out a laugh. “Don’t even look at it,” Tony decides, pulling the oven mitts back on, “I’ll dispose of it before it poisons us."

Bucky beats him to it though, scooping up the glass casserole dish with his metal hand and marching for the table, stopping only long enough to grab a fork on the way. “I’m gonna try it, I like a little danger,” Bucky says as he drops into one of the chairs, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

“There’s danger and then there’s this,” Tony mutters as he slowly trails after Bucky, oven mitts still on his hands and a half-formed plan in mind to snatch the pan away before Bucky can eat any of the questionable food.

Bucky must see it on his face though, because he curls one arm protectively around the lasagna and holds his fork up like a weapon, and Tony sighs in defeat.

“At least sign a waiver first,” he whines as he drops into the seat next to Bucky, “I don’t want to be held liable for whatever happens to your intestines.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, baby,” Bucky says with a laugh and then looks back down at the pan with a conflicted expression. “It… smells good, at least?”

“Ringing endorsement,” Tony says with a roll of his eyes, then waits with bated breath as Bucky scoops a bite out of the pan and begins to lift it toward his mouth.

Other than the red and white of tomato sauce and cheese, it doesn’t look much like lasagna at all, and Tony has to resist the urge to slap the fork out of Bucky’s hand before he can actually eat it.

At least if Bucky ends up in the medical wing after this Tony will have something to bring up when Bucky teases him about the goose incident. They might even get to tease each other about it for years, and that thought has warmth blooming in Tony’s chest. It's almost enough to fight off the sense of impending doom as Bucky shoves the forkful of ‘food’ into his mouth.

Bucky’s eyes go wide as he chews, painfully slowly. Tony is just about to ask if he needs a bucket, or a trip straight to the emergency room, when Bucky’s gaze snaps up to him again.

“Tony,” Bucky says faintly, and then nothing else.

“Bucky,” Tony returns, and after a split second adds, “Please don’t die like this.”

“Tony,” Bucky says again, “this is amazing.”

“Oh no. You’ve lost your mind,” Tony says mournfully, “my Italian abomination has driven you to madness.”

“Yes,” Bucky agrees without hesitation, “because it is that good.” To prove his point, he scoops up a much bigger forkful and shoves it into his mouth, making exaggerated happy noises that are not doing funny things to Tony’s stomach. “Try it,” he insists, holding the fork out to Tony.

“You just want me to die of intestinal implosion with you,” Tony says suspiciously but reaches out to take the utensils because he dares anyone to resist that encouraging look on Bucky’s face.

“It’ll be our most romantic date yet,” Bucky agrees and then nudges the pan towards him.

Tony is a little tempted to take his chance, grab the lasagna and run, get rid of it before it can hurt anyone else, but Bucky looks so hopeful and honest. So instead Tony takes a deep breath, dramatically preparing himself, and then tries a bite of the mushy abomination.

Instantly the taste of tomatoes and rich cheese fills his mouth, spices blended just the way he remembers from countless childhood trips to Italy. The lasagna might look like a hot mess, but it tastes perfect and Tony's eyes are maybe a little wet as he swallows thickly.

“Oh thank god,” Tony says with a sigh, ”Nonna isn’t going to haunt me for completely ruining her recipe.”

Bucky laughs, low and warm, and when Tony looks up he’s caught off guard by Bucky leaning over to plant a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Tony," he says softly, still close enough that Tony can smell the sauce on his breath, "this is perfect."

"You're welcome," Tony says, just as soft, and then simply can't resist tilting his head just enough to kiss Bucky again. They linger there for a long time, trading soft kisses and sharing the same air, until Tony pulls away to ask, "Does that mean you'll help me clean up this mess?"

"You can bet your perfect ass that I will not," Bucky says happily, then steals the fork back and pulls the lasagna closer while Tony squawks with indignation.

#my fic #winteriron #bucky/tony #starkbucks #buckyxtony #riot writes

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leafkingofbirds · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

As the first Wednesday without Cursed Heart (sob) and also because it's Wednesday, I wanted to share what I've been working on: a rewrite/expansion of the end of TCH2.

This is definitely still a work in progress and some aspects may change! But for the moment, this story will: lengthen the period of time Ella remains cursed and make it more difficult for Kieran to cure her, change what happens with the Sources and the courts, and continue Ella and Kieran's story with a more satisfactory ending (I hope!!)

Also it's from Kieran's POV because I need more angst lol.

Read more below, and I super appreciate feedback if you have any!

~~~~

Jack grits his teeth. Even bound with golden ropes of magic and pinned against the wall, his father’s body lying cold mere feet away, Jack’s bravery doesn’t waver as he levels a glare at Ella. Somehow despite everything, Kieran finds an ember of respect – respect? - flicker to life within him at this.

He has my mother’s bravery.

“Do it,” their enemy spits, still so full of hatred, even now in the room where his father breathed his last breath. “Get it over with. I have nothing left to fight for.”

Ella - his gentle, loving, merciful Ella no longer - raises her hands. At her fingertips, magic crackled with furious energy, unnatural power flowing through her mortal body, her eyes glowing white-hot and inhuman. Her face is blank of emotion, save for determination. A lust for violence which is so antithesis to her as to be grotesque. The cold rage of her aberrant magic fills the room like the suffocating pressure of a storm bearing down on them, promising wrath and violence.

This should feel victorious. A wrong, righted. Blood repaid for blood. Fae do not shy away from bloodshed, and they do not forgive debts. This is justice.

And yet everything inside Kieran screams that he cannot allow this to happen.

His Ella is no killer. His Ella taught him mercy and forgiveness. She found the truth of him buried deep beneath cold cruelty and a broken, cursed heart and steadfastly refused to leave him there despite all he had done to her.

He sees it all suddenly as if from a vision. A year ago, he was the heartless monster intent on death, and she was the helpless one. She saved him. Stopped him. Even at the risk of her own death.

And it broke his curse.

Now, I have lost everything.

His home, his crown, his magic.

Ella is lost.

The words pounded through his head with every furious thud of his racing heart. Ella sacrificed her heart – for him. Because he was not strong enough to defend his home, his people, or his crown. Ella knew the immortality curse was their last and only hope.

And in that last, horrible moment, he could not argue.

I promise you will not have to take care of me like this again.

His words rang in his ears and made him ashamed. He was so foolish. She was always taking care of him, even now. What use was he?

Some Prince of Fae.

Never before had Kieran felt a powerlessness this profound. Never before had he despaired as desperately as he did now.

She had done this for him. Let go of all that made her special, sacrificing all the love within her, all possibility of happiness and warmth. Turned herself into a shell capable only of violence and hate. Just like he had been when she’d first met him. She hadn’t abandoned him, even powerless and frightened as she was. His pride would never let him abandon her now.

Jack be damned. His rightful vengeance be damned. He had to let it go.

Sir Monty, please forgive me.

He would not lose Ella too.

Kieran took her wrist. Felt the magic inside her, wildly uncontrolled, unfocused. She was too new to it. She could kill him with one wrong move, one careless thought.

Her empty, glowing eyes sharpen on him. “What are you doing?”

He held her wrist tighter as his heart sinks with agony. He can scarcely draw a full breath around the heaviness of his grief. “Saving you from yourself.”

That billowing rage washes over him now as Ella focuses it all onto him, and Kieran feels the strangest sense of calm. Their situations had reversed. He was mortal, and she was not. If she chose to kill him, he would have no recourse. None at all. He would die willingly by her hand, if he must.

But he would go to death with an unburdened conscience and a pure heart, full of love.

Ella’s voice holds an animal rage Kieran has never once beheld. “Jack killed Monty! He deserves to die!”

“Maybe he does,” Kieran acknowledges in a quiet voice, feeling his half-brother’s sharp gaze flit warily to him. “But you cannot kill him without destroying yourself. The Ella I fell in love with is no killer.”

There is a steadiness inside him now, along with the grief and the dull horror of all that has transpired. His enemy still bleeds from wounds Kieran inflicted upon him. Kieran bleeds as well.

“Then you kill him,” Ella snarls. “Take the vengeance you say you want!”

Kieran’s heart wavers, temptation rising. He glances at Jack. There is an undeniable resemblance between them. A defiant spark he well recognizes. A bravery that runs in his own blood. For a moment, he sees himself draw that iron sword across Jack's throat, watching the last of his blood stain the old floorboards of this mortal tavern, steps away from his father's body.

Perhaps, at one time in his long life, he may have done just that.

But now he turns back to his furious, beautiful, terrifying Ella, his words heavy and thick in his throat. “We have lost enough, don’t you think? You and I?”

His words seem to have no effect on her. He did not expect them to. He had hoped, but...perhaps he hoped for too much.

He remembers too well how it felt to live heartless. How his only companions had been pain and anger. Emotional pleas would not touch her. But he could still appeal to her logic. She seemed to remember she was supposed to love him; she had not yet pushed him away. Perhaps there was still a chance.

He cradled her face in his palm. How someone could feel exactly the same and yet be an entirely different person – it tore at him inside in ways he would not allow to show on his face.

“You were the only one who could have stayed my hand against our enemies,” Kieran whispered. “And now, I will stay yours.”

“Let me go!” Ella made a fist within the shackle of Kieran’s grip, her outburst like cold water to the face. Yet she did not leave.

She could have broken every bone in his arm with ease, and yet she did not break from his hold.

“Ella…” He whispers her name, hoping, waiting, wishing. But there is no change in her face. “I promised you I would break your curse. Free you from this prison, just as you freed me. I know your heart is not lost to me. It is your precious heart that I cannot stand to carry the guilt of this violence. We have a chance now to change things. Look at me. I once shared your fate. I know what it is to live without a heart. You once told me that I have rage, pain, and violence within me, but it doesn’t rule me. It does not rule you either, my Ella.

Ella makes a token gesture to break from him, but it’s almost as though she has forgotten she is all-powerful, and her resistance is that of a human, not an immortal.

“You do not have to do this,” Kieran pronounces fiercely. “I am still your prince. And As Prince of the Moon Court, I command you leave Jack’s fate in my hands.”

It is this proclamation that finally makes the angry magic in the room die to nothing. Ella is staring at Kieran with wide eyes, until slowly, the overflowing magic in her body recedes enough to show her human again.

“As my prince commands,” Ella says quietly, but not without an undercurrent of bitten-off rebuttal.

The golden ropes pinning Jack to the tavern wall disappear, and he falls limply to his knees and does not attempt to rise or flee. Instead he hangs his head, raven hair falling in his eyes, revealing the ever-so-delicately pointed tips of his ears.

Only moments later does Kieran realize Jack’s shoulders are heaving with silent sobs, so overcome is he with his own aching grief that Ella remains heartless and cursed beside him. He does not let go of her wrist, and she makes no move to break away.

Perhaps there is still hope.

“Kill me,” Jack whispers. He is utterly defeated now, spirit broken. “Send me to my father's side. It's the only place I've ever belonged. All that I've worked for is lost; there’s no place for me in this world. I’ve broken it worse than it was when I set out on this quest for justice. I must pay for all the hurt I’ve caused.”

“No, Jack,” Kieran states with the authority of a crown prince. The surety in his voice makes Jack look up at him, questioningly. There are unshed tears in his eyes. “You don’t get to take the easy way out and leave us all to clean up your mess. Your punishment shall be helping us restore what has been broken.”

Stars above, the look in Jack’s eyes reminds Kieran so achingly of their mother. How had he never seen it before now?

You did not want to see it.

Kieran sighs. He squeezes Ella’s wrist gently, briefly, before letting go. Then he steps away from her, crossing the room, to offer a hand to his brother.

#the cursed heart 2

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