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singmyaubade · 10 months

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No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I apologize for my time writing this; it just had to be perfect! I am so grateful that you all love my story enough to give it so much love and support and practically beg for a part 3; thank you so much. I had no idea how to start and continue this, so please be kind. I really hope you guys enjoy this part, and I hope it's everything you dreamed of <3

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Shh.. don't wake her up!" You heard Lily whisper in your half-asleep state as the sun peeked at you through the blinds.

"It's Marlene's big oger feet," Mary snorted.

"Hey! My feet are not the size of oger feet," Marlene replied, sticking out her tongue.

"Shh!" Lily warned.

You heard the shuffling of paper and steps as you opened your eyes to see your best friends hanging up decorations, a smile appearing on your face immediately.

"Oh, bollocks," Lily sighed, face-palming, "Happy birthday!" She yelled, half annoyed but half happy there was a smile on your face. She embraced you as you sat upright in bed, glad to see your friend's dedication to your birthday.

The rest of them told you a happy birthday, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually got Marlene up this early," You said, opening another card they gave you.

"Well, it took a chicken drumstick," Dorcas replied.

"Otherwise, I would've been grouchy, and Y/n would have had a horrible birthday, so really I did it for her," Marlene said as Mary rolled her eyes.

"I wonder what the Marauders have planned, especially James," Lily muttered.

Every year for your birthday, James would give you a grand birthday party and tons of presents. He usually would sneak into your dorm room and surprise you with cannons and the other Marauders, but of course, this year was different.

And coincidentally, your birthday was the same day as the start of winter break, which always meant you had to pack on your birthday.

And every birthday, you had to go over to James's house for your birthday dinner with your families.

Which you were not looking forward to this year.

"Oh shit, sorry, Y/n, I know you don't want to speak about him," Lily apologized.

"It's alright; I'm sure I'll be reminded of him today many times," You replied, getting out of bed, "I can't believe I don't get to spend my birthday at Hogwarts," You said, grabbing clothes from your closet, setting them next to the trunk.

"It does suck, but you can at least be excited about your birthday dinner," Lily replied, closing her trunk.

"Hopefully, it goes well without James hinting to our parents that I hate him and don't want anything to do with him," You angrily said, shoving your clothes in your trunk.

"Do you really hate him, though?" Mary asked, "I mean, you were best friends with him all these years, and now, you utterly hate him,"

"That was before I realized he was cruel and truly considered me anything but something that he couldn't get rid of," You said, "But enough about James, are we still meeting together after Christmas?"

"Of course, your house, Y/n?" Dorcas asked.

You nodded, "But we can't steal my parent's booze again; I'm pretty sure the elves are scared of Marlene,"

"I didn't mean to scare them with my clown impression; it was just too good," Marlene smirked.

"Yeah yeah, for sure," You said, laughing before packing the rest of your clothes.

Suddenly, your parent's owl flew in from the window, delivering you a letter. You opened the envelope and straightened the folded-up letter, which stated:

Dear beloved Y/n,

Your father and I are experiencing a torturous delay from France; we have fought with the conductor multiple times and even considered apparating or the floo. Unfortunately, because of the horrible mangling rabbit, I TOLD your father not to eat, he has been throwing up all evening, and we can't apparate, and the nearest floo is eight hours away. You will stay with the Potters tonight and tomorrow night because too many wards might injure you in the house that the elves can't disable, but we hope to return before then. We want you to have the most incredible birthday and love you so much; we are incredibly sorry to miss it. Please forgive us.

Sincerely,

Your proud parents.

"What does the letter say?" Lily asked, glancing at you the folding her socks.

"My parents are stuck in a delay and can't make it to my birthday dinner in time, or even tomorrow," You shrugged.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," Lily said, embracing you.

You hugged her back. "It's okay; at least I have the Potters.

"Are you sure you will be okay?" Dorcas asked.

"Yeah, you can stay with me if you want," Mary offered.

"No, it's fine." You sighed, "They will be hurt if I skipped the opportunity to continue the tradition, and my mom would wring my head off if I didn't go," You joked.

"Okay, well, let us know," Lily smiled.

The whole part of you was sincerely upset; you didn't want your parents to not be there for your birthday. Even worse, you weren't on good terms with James, which only made for an awkward dinner with his family.

But you understood and knew your parents would make it up to you, and you know how guilty they felt; you just missed them.

You chose to keep your mind off it and keep packing until it was time to go to the train.

"When does this bloody train come?" Marlene shivered, "I'm fucking freezing,"

"I told you to bring your jumper," Mary sighed.

"I didn't think I really needed it," Marlene replied, gritting her teeth.

"I knew you would be cold," You said, giving her one of your extra jumpers.

"You know, Y/n, I'll kick Potter's bloody ass for you; just remember that," Marlene suggested, causing you to laugh.

"Speaking of the devil," Dorcas muttered under her breath.

You turned around to see James looking straight into your eyes. You had to admit that James had never been so intimidating. His eyes looked as if they had darkened, and he looked as if you were his Slytherin competitor in Quidditch.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice sounding deeper.

He didn't even say Happy Birthday.

"I'm gonna sit with them," You blankly stated, not an ounce of kindness in your voice.

"It's better if we sit together," James demanded, "Otherwise, we won't be able to find each other in the crowd when the train stops," He explained to you slowly as if you were a child, which only pissed you off.

"Are you fucking mishearing me, or are you just delusional?" You asked, "I said I'm gonna sit with my friends and not assholes. I don't even consider an acquaintance." You sneered, your voice sounding so harsh that it shocked your friends, "Please do me a favor and leave me the fuck alone."

"Are you really gonna be an uptight bitch?" James asked, a cocky smile on his face, "I mean, Jesus, I like it better when your mouth is shut or perhaps filled." Some of you knew that James was just being an asshole because he was hurt, which is what he always did, even when he was a kid, but the only thing about it was that he only did it to you.

That only angered you more before you slapped him for his rude comment, "Don't you fucking dare speak to me like that."

"Or what?" He stepped closer

"Okay, guys!" Lily stepped in, "We will approach you five minutes before the train stops, and you guys will walk together in peace, hopefully," Lily dragged you away as you glared at James.

"I can't believe you actually slapped him," Marlene said, following after you guys, "I mean, after what he said, I would've punched him so hard in the di-"

Mary cut her off, "Jokes aside, are you okay, Y/n? I mean, I have never seen James so mean and awful towards you or anyone for that matter,"

You sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just don't get why he is so mean to me when he was the one who broke my trust in the first place,"

"What did he do?" Marlene asked.

The rest of the group looked at Marlene as if she had killed a unicorn. Nobody had really asked what James had done but considering your resentment towards him, it must’ve been unforgiving.

You hesitated, “He just didn’t say some nice things about me.” You answered, hoping to move on.

“Like what kind of things?” Marlene pried.

You could tell she was just curious, but you were so humiliated by what James had said that you didn’t even want to tell your closest friends.

Dorcas elbowed Marlene, causing her to hiss in pain before she said, “It isn’t our business if you don’t want to tell us, Y/n.”

“Yeah,” Lily agreed, “Maybe it’s better it is between you and James.”

The rest of the group agreed including Marlene who was hunched over in pain and verbally cursing Dorcas for the hard elbow.

You muttered a “thanks” before heading onto the train. You sat by the window, staring outside to the foggy mountains.

You didn’t want to admit it but you did miss James and how much he cared for your birthday. Sometimes it seemed like it was his birthday with how high he held your birthday.

You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just try to even figure out what he had done or fight for your forgiveness, he just chose to be angry at you.

You didn't even want to think about him. Why does your whole life revolve around him?

"Anything from the trolley dearies?" The Trolley Witch asked.

"Chocolate frogs," Marlene said.

"Jumbling Jellies," Lily answered.

"I'll take Fizzing Wheezies," You said, paying her 10 galleons for you all.

"Y/n, you don't ha-" Lily was about to say before Marlene shushed her.

Lily glared as Marlene spoke, "Bless your heart, Y/n," She smiled as you laughed.

As Marlene started devouring her chocolate frog, you couldn't help but remember how you and James would share Fizzing Wheezies every time on your birthday on the train.

Practically tradition.

You wondered if he thought the same. If he was relishing in the memories.

Your thinking was halted when Dorcas set a hand on your thigh as you smiled, laying your head on her shoulder. You closed your eyes, trying to prepare for the day ahead.

"Y/n," Someone lightly shook you by your shoulder as you looked to see Lily. She was waking all of the girls up as the train stopped.

You yawned, getting up to grab your luggage. James was right that there would be traffic, so you had to rush off, saying your goodbyes to your best friends.

"Promise to write?" Lily asked, looking near tears.

"Lils, it's only a week," You snorted as she gave you a stern look.

"A week I won't get to see you," She hugged you tighter as you smiled and returned it.

"See you before Christmas?" She asked.

You rubbed her shoulder, "See you before Christmas."

"Promise me you won't forgive Potter," Marlene sighed, causing you to laugh.

"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Mary asked next to Marlene.

"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Marlene mocked, causing Mary to glare.

"Okay, okay!" You laughed at the both of them, "Only if you promise you both will stop bickering," You hugged them both.

They glared at each other as Dorcas spoke, "Forgetting someone?"

You grinned, "Never," You hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.

You were waiting for her to say, "Give him hell?" You asked as she laughed.

"I think you know what to do," She encouraged before you exited, waving goodbye to all of them.

Even though it was only a week, you still hated being away from your best friends. They were like your third family besides your actual and the Potters.

You saw the back of Sirius's head as you approached him, considering he lived with the Potters.

He turned around before you could tap him, picking you up, "Happy birthday Y/n!" He said, kissing your cheek as you yelped.

"Okay, thank you, Sirius, put me down!" You giggled.

He put you down as you smoothed your clothing, "So where's Potter?' You asked.

He smirked, "Only last name? Ice cold Y/n." You didn't respond, so he assumed you were waiting for an answer, "He went to the toilets,"

You hummed, silently tapping your foot on the pavement, only hearing the ruckus around you both.

"Excited for your birthday dinner?" He asked, partly ready for the drama.

"Very," You sarcastically said.

"Hey, Mom and Dad aren't too bad," He said.

"We both know Euphemia and Fleamont aren't the Potters I despise," You muttered.

"Well, for your sake, I'll make him behave," He sent a charming smile your way.

"What would I do without you, Black?" You rolled your eyes.

"Probably be miserable," He answered, causing you to laugh.

"What are we laughing about?" James said, not even a smidge of excitement in his tone.

Your usual mad facade slipped back in as you grabbed your luggage and started heading toward the car. You could hear Sirius laughing behind you.

You saw Euphemia and Fleamont waiting by the car like they had usually done since Sixth year since James told them to stop coming inside because of his newfound "popularity."

Your face lit up immediately, excited to see two of your favorite people worldwide.

You embraced Euphemia, giving the tightest hug you could and giving Fleamont a kiss on the cheek while they asked about your studies. You could see James rolling his eyes both audibly and physically.

"Okay, Mother, I don't think Y/n likes all the questions," James said, leaning his head on the window while his father drove.

Sirius was in between the two of you, snoring asleep. Considering the train ride, you didn't even know why he was tired.

"I don't mind at all," You said, smiling as James glared at you.

You knew that Euphemia could feel the tension between you and James, but she ignored it, "So Y/n, I have made you something extraordinary." Euphemia said.

"And that is?" You asked, knowing she wouldn't tell you.

"I guess you will have to find out tonight during dinner." She sweetly said, winking at you.

You smiled to yourself, relieved your birthday wouldn't be that bad.

You entered the house that you had been over to so many times, admiring it fully.

"James will show you your room," Euphemia said, rubbing your back as you smiled, trying not to show your discomfort about James.

James didn't even wait for you before heading up the steps. Thankfully, he carried your luggage because he knew Euphemia would berate him.

"It's in there," He lazily said, not even opening the door before walking downstairs.

Jerk.

You grunted, lifting your heavy suitcase inside the room.

You admired the room, which looked like it was made for you. It was warm and tremendous for a guest room. It had all of your favorite colors and smells.

It was perfect.

You decided to nap before dinner, considering you had no one to talk to, and you were partly tired after the drive anyway. You knew an elf would get you when it was time.

"Ms." A frail voice said as your eyes fluttered open to see Dot, the Potter's elf that had been there since you had first moved in.

"Oh, hello, Dot," You spoke lightly, yawning.

"Ms. Potter tells Dot to inform you it's time for dinner," Her small voice said.

"Thank you, Dot, I appreciate it," You thanked before the elf nodded her head and apparated out.

You stretched, wearing a semi-formal dress, one of your favorites.

You headed down the stairs as you smelt the food radiating from the dining room. It was all of your favorites; it was pretty extraordinary. Ms. Potter was always the type to blow you off of your feet, regardless.

Your face lit up, "This is stunning, Ms. Potter," You looked at the glowing lights.

Euphemia smiled, "I'm glad you love it,"

You sat next to James with Sirius next to him. His face had certainly softened, but he was clenching his jaw when you sat beside him.

"Now," Euphemia started, "I know we usually do gifts after dinner, but we all had such beautiful surprises for you that we couldn't wait."

Euphemia started first, giving you one of your favorite movies since you were a kid, except the movie wasn't available anywhere.

You rose excitedly, embracing her, "How did you get this?" You asked, smiling at the CDs.

"A friend of mine is good friends with the director, and he happened to have one last copy," She answered as you excitingly hugged her before returning to your seat.

"Thank you, Ms. Potter," You looked at Euphemia, "I love it,"

She nodded before Fleamont gave you his gift. It was a beautiful crystal from Bejing.

You thanked him for the beautiful gem before Sirius offered you his gift. He gave you a perfume that smelled of fire whisky but wasn't actually fire whisky.

Part of you wanted to know how he did it, but you decided to save it for later as you thanked him, kissing him on the cheek as he cheered.

Last was James, who picked up the gift from under the table. He had looked you in the eyes, not a set of resentment in them at all.

Your breath hitched as he gave you a stuffed animal your grandfather gave you when you were nine. You had cried for a week because you had lost it and teared up when anyone mentioned it.

He gave it to you as it looked brand new and was cleaner than when you had it when you were nine.

When you pressed on the heart, it always said "I love you" in your grandfather's voice and even had your name on the collar.

You teared up, "How did you find it?"

He stuttered, "I-I found it in the treehouse in the corner,"

"I thought the treehouse was infested with Clockonuts," You said.

He laughed, "Well, I risked my life to get it back,"

Every sense of anger you had felt had disappeared; he had done something that was so out of his actions lately that it made you miss him.

"Thank you," You genuinely said.

He gave you a simple nod before you began eating. Conversations started after, talking about school.

"So, any boys, Y/n?" Euphemia asked as James dropped his fork on his plate, making a huge sound that caused you to look at him.

You cleared your throat, "Well, I am trying not to focus on that right now,"

"Except for Carrows," James muttered.

"Who's Carrows?" Euphemia asked, genuinely curious.

You took a bite of your carrot, "Um, well," You swallowed, "He's just a friend I have."

"I don't sit on my friend's laps," James scoffed, causing you to glare at him.

"Well, I don't call my friends sluts," You spat.

"James Fleamont Potter, what did you call her?" Euphemia added.

James ignored her, "Well, when your best friend is acting like one just because you don't fancy her, I think she deserves it,"

Mate-" Sirius chimed in, but you were faster.

"When have I ever fancied you?" You asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge.

"Y/n, you were practically obsessed with me," He ridiculed, "I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life," His face looked shocked after he said the last words.

You couldn't tell if he meant it, but it hurt you badly. All those years of friendship were fake; he couldn't tolerate you.

"That's enough!" Euphemia said; even Sirius was silent.

A tear ran down your cheek, "I'm actually not feeling well; I'm gonna go to bed." You said, placing your napkin on the plate in front of you.

You heard Euphemia berating James as you ran up to your room. In some ways, you didn't understand why James did everything he did if he hated you so much.

Why did he give you that gift? Why did he always call you and get mad when you didn't want to be his friend? Did you ever mean anything to James Potter?

And if you did, why did he have to ruin your birthday?

A/N: If you hated this, I apologize.

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

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cold nights // part three

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is where it starts to get different (i hope!)

series masterlist // playlist

You saw two deaths in one day, and the games had not even started.

The local girl, who you didn't have the pleasure of learning the name of, had taken her final breaths in the arms of your mentor before he was dragged away. You hoped he was doing okay. And the girl from District Ten, Brandy. She had guts, you had to admire that about her- but killing an innocent was something you struggled to understand.

Coriolanus's classmate was only guilty of a cruel joke, and to you, that didn't warrant violence. However, the misdirected anger from your fellow tributes was valid. You just got lucky with Coryo as your mentor.

You spent your night reaching through the bars to pick weeds and flowers to place with Brandy while she slept. "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life," repeating in your mind.

"It's my fault... It was my idea to get closer to the tributes but I didn't know this would happen." Coryo says, sat at the dining room table with his cousin and Grandma'am. He was sent home as soon as he was dragged out of the zoo, and he's not sure he had a coherent walk the entire walk home.

"You're just lucky your poet didn't do the same to you. Stay away. District people are a different breed, Coriolanus."

Tigris chews on her lip next to him, her cousin's arm wrapped around her back. "She's not a rebel, grandma'am. She's just a girl."

"No, I can see it in her eyes and the way she carries herself. That one hasn't been a girl in a long time." She shakes her head disapprovingly.

"You haven't met her, she won't hurt me." Coryo insists. "She's far too... gentle, unfortunately. At least Arachne's tribute would have done well in the games."

"It doesn't matter, Coryo." Tigris states. "If that's not who she is we can't force her. What do you think a change like that would do to someone?"

"I just want her to win."

"Dean Highbottom said that she doesn't have to win for you to get the prize."

"I know that." He mutters, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "It's not about..." He stands up, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I have homework to do. Goodnight." And just like that, he's gone.

Come the morning, you were awoken from your slumber next to her no longer bleeding body by peacekeepers barging in with guns- one pointed at every last one of you. You backed away as they grabbed her, careless of her arms which you had delicately crossed, or the flowers you placed in her hair.

You were shackled alongside each other, and then forced back into the truck that delivered you to the zoo so recently.

"Don't be scared..." You whisper to the young girl on the bench next to you, watching as she cried, her pleas for answers going ignored by the others. "The world will be a better place tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Wovey sniffles, looking up at you as you reach up with tethered hands to brush her dark hair back from her face.

"Tomorrow." You nod, smiling at her sadly. You didn't know where you were going, but you doubted it meant anything good. You were supposed to have some more time before the games, but it's not impossible they would be moved in the fallout of the murders. Tomorrow, given your deaths today, would be a safer place for you both.

It wasn't a long ride before the doors were opened and you were all pulled out, and tied to a vehicle while Brandy's body was being hung above you. A parade? This was new, you were sure, you had never heard of such a thing before in the games as they were, although, no one from Twelve had ever returned to tell the story.

You were forced to walk alongside the vehicle as it moved, down an empty street and onto a much more populated one. You wondered if Coriolanus was there, until you reached your destination, and you heard his voice.

You didn't take Coriolanus Snow for a singer, but people shock you every day. There's a screen set up, and you can see him there. He looks uncomfortable, you can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to be there, but by now you've gathered that this is a funeral for his classmate; he likely wasn't given a choice.

You couldn't look at anything else happening around you. If you look at the casket in front of you, or god forbid the body hung above your head, you would burst into tears. This is what the Capitol deemed as justice for the loss of one of their young people- how did they think District people felt every year when their children were torn from them to face an eerily similar fate? The lack of empathy could make you ill. So your eyes remained locked on the blonde boy on the screen until the very end.

Coriolanus couldn't look at you. He knew you were there, all the tributes were. He took one look at you shivering under the metal that encased your wrists on bare skin, and he couldn't look back. You didn't do this to Arachne, you couldn't. Unfortunately, he's certain you wouldn't hurt a fly. To him, it felt unjust to drag you into this.

As soon as he was done and returned to his seat as chief mourner for a girl he didn't even like, he couldn't help but let his gaze track you again. You had tears in your eyes. He could see it even from a distance. You were scared, or you were saddened even by the funeral of a stranger. Your emotions were a mystery to him. You clutched your hands to your chest as you followed the car you were tied to, eyes glued to the ground at your feet as people simultaneously booed at you and cheered at the tribute hanging over your head- and he thought he was humiliated by having to sing. To be a spectacle in the Capitol was to be hated, and it was his job to make sure those same people would know you.

As soon as he was free from his duties at Arachne's funeral, he was headed back to the zoo. It took him all day, and the sun was set by the time he made it. "Y/N." He whispered, unable to see you in the dark as he approached the bars of the monkey cage. "Y/N?"

You had awoken to the footsteps, hearing your name being called in hushed tones as you sat up from where you were lying on the cold ground. You had just managed to fall asleep, Jessup had given you his sweater to use as some form of blanket as you laid your head on his stomach. You missed your bed, but body heat was helpful. You didn't think summer nights were truly this cold.

You got up, following your friend's voice over to the bars that separated you. "Coriolanus." You whisper, trying to smile. "It's late."

"Are you okay?" He asks, grabbing one of the bars in his hand and ignoring the cold burning into his palm.

"I'm just fine." You assure him. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"She wasn't my friend." He whispers back.

"Still. It was hard to watch, anyone with a heart would be hurt by what happened."

He remembers seeing you cry at the funeral, taking a sharp breath in. "Are you cold?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Only slightly." You answer. "Jessup gave me his sweater, and body heat helps."

Coriolanus squints as he looks past you, seeing the form of the boy lying on the ground, rolling onto his side now that you weren't using him as a pillow. "I brought you this." He whispers, holding up an old, torn-up afghan that he slung over the top of his book bag.

"I figured in that... dress thing you must be freezing out here. I couldn't sleep knowing you'd be out here shivering." He explains as you take it, unfolding the knitted material.

"Thank you, that's very considerate." You smile, quick to drape the small blanket over your shoulders. "Did someone make this for you? It's beautiful."

Coriolanus watches you pull it tightly around yourself, already trying to pull any warmth you can from the material. "I... I'm not sure." He says quietly. "It was a gift for my mother, it was meant for my sister."

"Well, tell your sister I say thank you. I'll get it back to you before the games."

"Oh... well, she doesn't need it." He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck to quell the goosebumps forming there. "My mother died in childbirth. Neither of them made it. So now, we've just got this blanket..."

You frown, instinctively loosening your grip on the suddenly delicate material. "I'm so sorry, Coryo. That's awful."

Coryo? The nickname falling from your lips sounds like the spoon that stirs sugar into tea- abrasive for the breakfast table, but still very sweet.

When he doesn't respond, you continue. "The distance that the dead have gone does not at first appear- their coming back seems possible for many an ardent year."

"Why do you talk like that?" He asks suddenly, eager to discuss anything other than the death of his mother.

You smile. "It's from a poem. An ancient one." You explain. "I like to read, it's all I've ever really done. My ma taught me how, gave me all these old, old books with reprints of popular stories from way back when. They just... speak to me. People back then seem to have known it all."

"I've never read anything like that." He replies.

"That surprises me." You answer honestly. "Did you know you're named after a play?" You ask, sitting down now, careful not to let the blanket touch the dirty ground.

"Am I?" He asks, sitting down across from you without thinking much of it.

"Yes." You nod. "I quoted it in my goodbye to the District. I thought that was why you came to see me."

"I had no idea." Coryo says, smile tugging at his lips. "What a coincidence."

"Pray you, who does the wolf love?" You giggle, leaning closer so he can hear you better. "The lamb."

"From?" He asks, unable to resist the urge to smile any longer.

"The Tragedy of Coriolanus."

"Why is it a tragedy?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"Well, it's about this man named Coriolanus, who gets thrust into a position of power he isn't quite suited for. It's all he can think about, he's obsessed with it. He does well, he rescues the city, but his power and pride become his downfall, and he's banished by his own people." You explain.

"Oh. He doesn't regain their favour?"

"He dies at the end, 'cause he's betrayed too many. It's sort of sad."

"Sort of?" Coryo chuckles quietly. "He did so much for his people, is his death not a great loss?"

"His death is meant to be a justice for his actions, but I disagree." You whisper. "I think he was too far gone to be changed, yes, but I think if things had gone differently for him he would have made some better choices."

"Maybe." Coryo agrees. "But with a tragedy, doesn't that mean it was always meant to end that way?"

"People say that." You reply. "But I think the aspect of human nature has been lost in it. I think people can always change. Usually, it's circumstance that changes people into villains, so I think it could change them into heroes too. How do you know so much about tragedies if you've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"There's others, more modern stuff that they teach us here. No one likes to talk about history before Panem." Coryo answers. "But I agree. I think the idea of destiny is embellished, in some ways."

You hum in agreement, looking up at the sky. "There's not as many stars here."

"No?" He asks, taking a break from looking at you to look up as well. He's never known anything different than the very few stars they get, even on a clear night.

"No." You shake your head. "Back home, if you look up at night you couldn't count the stars if you were given a month to do it and a pencil to track it all down. There are thousands."

"Sounds nice." He whispers.

"It is." You agree, voice catching. You'll never go home and see the stars again, this is the best you would get for the rest of your life. You didn't realize the last time you saw the stars light up the sky that you never would again. You wish you had appreciated it more. You let out a shaky breath, deciding to look instead at your lap. There was no use in hurting your feelings anymore.

At the sound of your unsteady exhale, Coryo snaps his eyes back to you. He realizes at just about the same time you did what you were thinking about. "I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of silence, unsure what else he could say.

You just nod, reaching up to wipe your eyes. "I'll just miss it. I didn't realize until now that I won't get to see it again."

"You might." He tries to be encouraging, but the odds of you surviving are slim and he knows that. "I'll do everything I can to help you. I want you to get home."

"You would love it." You say, ignoring his sentiment because you know if you acknowledge it you'll start bawling. "There's a big open field by my house, when I was younger my ma would take us out there with a blanket in the middle of the night and we would lay down and look at the stars."

Coryo is quiet, just nodding as he listens to your story. "Sometimes my cousin and I sit on the roof of our apartment at night. We'll just sit out there and talk for hours, it's the best part of my day when we both get the chance." He tries to relate to you, he really does, but he knows that he could leave whenever he wanted and go sit with Tigris on the roof tonight. You don't have that privilege.

"You live together?" You ask, sniffling.

"Yeah. It's just us and our Grandma'am."

"That sounds nice." You smile sadly. "What's her name?"

"My cousin? Tigris."

"Tigris." You roll the name around in your mouth. "Will you tell me about her?"

"Well, she graduated a couple of years ago. She wants to be a designer, but there's not much of a market for that these days, so she works under someone else. Her boss is just awful to her, but Tigris gives it all she's got. She's got a real talent for it."

You lean forward against the bars as he speaks, resting your forehead on the cold metal and letting your eyes close. "I'm sure she's amazing."

"She is. She took this old shirt of my father's, completely remade it for me to wear to the reaping like nothing had ever been wrong with it in the first place. She even used the tiles in our bathroom to make these tiny buttons for it. It's really impressive. I think one day when I'm president, I'll get her a better job. If she even wants to work. She's been working for as long as I can remember to take care of me, I hope to return the favour one day."

"That's very kind of you." You yawn. "She sounds lovely. I wish I could have the pleasure of meeting her one day."

"If she's free, I'll bring her to say hello." He smiles, noticing you're already half asleep. The urge to reach forward, just a little, and push your hair away from where it has fallen in your face is near impossible to resist. Instead, he keeps talking. "She would love to meet you too, I know it. You are pretty much all we talk about these days."

"Me? Why's that?"

"You're just... unlike anyone I've ever met. Better, I suppose." He whispers. "And you're really important to me. I hope you understand that."

"I don't have to win for you to get your prize, right?" You ask quietly.

"No." He replies. "But I really hope you do. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'd like to see you when you're not a monkey in a cage. As yourself."

You smile, cheeks flushing under the mask of the darkness that surrounds you. "Come, gentle night, come, loving black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars." You whisper, so quietly to yourself he's not even sure he heard every last word, but god, did he long to. Only so many quotes and poems and words of your own would have the gift of leaving your lips. Your words were numbered- and as he could, he would cherish every one.

"What's that from?" He asks, leaning closer.

"Romeo and Juliet." You yawn. "That's my favourite. One day, you should read it."

"I will." He promises. And he'll think the whole time of you.

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #hunger games #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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jasmines-library · 2 months

Note

Hello ml !! How’ve you been? <3

I was wondering if you’d be up for writing smth with the batfamily, and maybe their reaction to reader coming back home from a sleepover at their partners house, and telling them that they got cheated on?

Have a great day/evening/night <33 🫶

Heartbreak Doesn't Feel So Good.

Hello Hello! Thanks for requesting again, I always love to see you in my inbox. I hope you have been well. Sorry it's a little on the shorter side but I wanted to get this out for you today.

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

The first thing Jason noticed when you stepped through the door was that there were tears running down your face. He had always been observant, but he knew you well. He could tell that your mascara ran beneath your eyes from the way your shoulders were hunched to match your slow movements, gaze firm on the ground. And if he listened carefully enough, he could hear the sniffling that you failed to conceal as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your upset.

“What’s that matter?” He was up in a second, moving toward your side. His face and voice were laced with concern.

You had stayed the night round your partner's house and weren’t supposed to be back for at least a few hours. Jason had seen the way you left, grinning as you carried your bags to the car. But now you stood crestfallen, dropping your bag on the floor in defeat. Something had clearly gone wrong and Jason was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“What happened?” He frowned, helping you remove your jacket.

“I-” Your lip trembled as your eyes filled with tears again. Jason pulled you to his chest and let you weep.

After a tender moment, he guided you over gently to the couch where he sat you down and took your hand in his, repeating his question. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him.

“They…They cheated on me.” your voice broke as you stuttered out what happened.

Jason felt his fingers clenching to fists.

“What?!” The voice hadn’t come from Jason. It had come from Tim who was passing by the room on his way back from the cave.

“I don’t know what happened…” You sobbed. “I thought we were fine. And then they left for a moment… their phone kept going off. So I checked it. I didn’t want to impose…but I thought it might have been something important. And then I saw her name. And the messages.”

“I swear to god-” Jason nearly growled.

“And when they came back into the room I confronted them. And they didn’t even try to deny it!” More tears streamed from your face, falling hot like acid. Like a lingering reminder. A cruel joke. “They just told me that ‘they didn’t love me anymore’. That they had ‘found someone better’. What kind of an answer is that?!-”

Tim tried to soothe you by placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Shh. It’s gonna be okay kid.”

“But…I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Dick had arrived with young Damian in tow. The pair had been sparring and had decided to check up on Tim following his absence, but were starstruck to find you bawling on the couch.

“What’s wrong little bat?” Damian asked. His voice was surprisingly gentle and held much more concern than you thought was ever possible for the stubborn boy.

All four eyes watched you, anticipating you to speak. But you just couldn't, your mind was too busy and you didn’t dare utter the words that you were trying so hard to believe weren’t true. You knew that the moment you said them again all of your walls would come tumbling down, torn from whatever remaining supports were keeping them upright.

“They cheated on her.” Jason spat.

“What an asshole.” Damian jeered. He had seen how happy the pair of you were and the thought of someone switching up that quickly made him feel queasy.

“Oh y/n/n.” Dick sighed “I’m so sorry. That’s unfair.”

You shrugged.

“Didn’t even give her a reason.” Jason continued. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears, despite how he tried not to lose his temper for your sake. But the more you revealed the harder he was finding it. “Just left her at a snap of their fingers.”

“It’s their loss. They didn’t deserve someone like you in the first place.” Dick told you.

“Exactly.” Damian nodded in agreement. “You’re totally way out of their league.”

“You think so?” You sniffled.

“100%. You’re worth so much more than anything in this world and that asshole didn’t deserve any of you.”

A smile upturned at the corner of your lips. Tim reached out and wiped the tears away from your eyes.

“Hey. No more of that crying okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, though you still couldn’t shake the sadness from your bones.

“Wanna watch shitty movies and eat ice cream?” Dick asked, sensing this.

“Please?”

And the four of them moved quickly, gathering pillows which they chucked onto the couch to create a pillow fort of sorts. Damian ran into the kitchen to grab ice cream, though he was uncertain of what flavour so he grabbed two alongside a handful of spoons and a plate of brownies that Alfred had just finished making. Then they made themselves comfortable on the couch, surrounding you in their embrace before letting you decide on a film to watch.

And so the five of you sat there for hours, watching chick flicks and trying to devour tubs of ice cream before it melted completely. As much as they would never admit it, Damian and Tim were mouthing along to the lines of the cheesy films, or singing along to the songs. One of their guilty pleasures. Jason seemed engrossed in the movies too, surprisingly. Though you weren’t sure if he was pretending to be interested and was actually plotting the inconspicuous murder of your partner as revenge. The thought made you chuckle. The five of you stayed bundled up on the couch until slowly, one by one you began to drift off and your heartbreak had been forgotten for a few hours at least.

When Bruce arrived back from his late night patrol and found you all together, his heart warmed. They were always going to take good care of you.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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toournextadventure · 11 months

Text

oblivious

Summary: You've been Vada's roommate for a while now and she still has yet to notice that you have feelings for her. You hoped accepting a date with someone else would force her hand. In a way, it did

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, weed and alcohol mention Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader (no pronouns used) A/N: I'm still getting the hang of Vada's personality so y'all bear with me, but I'm workin on it, I'll get there

“Honey, I’m home,” Vada called out, stopping you in your tracks on the way to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help smiling at Vada’s ridiculous phrase that she had started using whenever she got back to the shared apartment. If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember when she had started it; it hadn’t been too long after you had first agreed to rent an apartment together with her friends Mia and Nick. All you knew was one day she practically crashed into the apartment, said her now-famous tagline, and it stuck.

The best part of it all? She only ever said it to you. Never to Mia, never to Nick, only to you. It made your crush on her grow each time, even though you certainly didn’t need the help. Just the words alone had your stomach twisting into knots in the most delicious way.

And that little dumbass didn’t even know what she was doing.

“Don’t you have another class?” You asked with a tilt of your head. It was a bit too early for her to be home, especially on a Tuesday.

“Skipped it,” she said with her cheesy grin that never failed to make your heart race. “Why take Lit when I can have you teach me?”

“That’s not how it works, V,” you chuckled. “I can’t give you credit.”

“But you can- are you getting in the shower?”

There it was; the attention change. It happened a bit sooner than usual, but you weren’t entirely surprised. At first you had been confused at Vada’s change of topic and attention at such a fast pace, but now it was expected. At least she looked cute.

“Yes I am,” you said with a nod. “Did the towel give it away?”

“It’s Tuesday,” Vada said, completely ignoring your attempt at teasing her. “You don’t shower on Tuesdays.”

Ah. So she did pay attention to a few things.

“I got asked on a date,” you shrugged.

“A date?” She asked incredulously. Rude. “With who?”

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “Know that guy from my Fluid Flow class? Jacob?”

“The one with the stupid lip piercing?”

“It’s not stupid,” you said with a huff. “But yes.”

“You agreed to go on a date with him?” Vada asked incredulously. “What happened to your standards?”

“It’s not like I’m getting asked on many dates,” you argued.

“But him?” She continued.

“Well who else should I go with?” You asked. “You?”

Vada froze, her mouth still flopping open at the revelation of your plans for the evening. You wanted her to tell you not to go. To say that yes, you should go on a date with her. Maybe you were being a bit cruel to just not tell her, but you wanted her to say something. Although in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have expected Vada Cavell to pick up on all the signs you had given her.

Which were numerous.

She shifted her weight and looked down at her feet. You could see her scuffing the toe of her shoe into the floor, a nervous habit of hers. Part of you got hopeful; she was nervous, maybe she would finally say something. Hell, you would be happy if she simply said she didn’t want you to go.

“You should go shower,” she finally said, and you felt your heart drop. “I’ll help you pick out what to wear once you’re out.”

“Right,” you said with a sigh.

The entire time you were in the shower you were seething. No, not quite seething, you were disappointed. You knew it was a bit unrealistic of you to expect Vada to know how you were feeling, especially about her, but you couldn’t help it. How could she not see that you wanted her to ask you on a date? Yes you should just do it yourself, especially at this point, but you weren’t going to risk anything.

Your father would’ve just told you to task her on your own. You were the one with the feelings, you should ask. And he would have been right, you knew that, but you didn’t want to ask. What if Vada didn’t actually like you that way? She acted goofy with Mia and Nick too, so you couldn’t use that as justification for your hopes.

By the time you got out of the shower and finished getting ready, Vada was already waiting in your room. She was hanging her head upside down on the bed while scrolling through her phone. Her brows were scrunched in an adorable frown from whatever she was looking at. The minute she noticed you standing in the doorway, she smiled wide and sat up.

“About time,” she said as she stood up and went to your closet, “I’ve got the perfect thing for tonight.”

“Perfect as in “I’ll look great” or as in “it’ll get me laid?” Because there’s a difference,” you said as you sat down on the bed and waited for Vada to come out of the closet.

Ha. You might be disappointed, but at least you were still funny. See? That was what Vada was missing out on and she didn’t even know it!

“Perfect as in “he’d be stupid not to ask you out again”,” she said with a grin as she turned around to show you what she had picked.

“Vada that’s,” you exhaled slowly, “that’s the most mundane outfit I’ve got.”

“Which is why he’d be stupid not to ask you out again,” she said, tossing everything your way. “I won’t look, promise.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled to yourself as you nonetheless stood up and got dressed.

Part of you was thankful Vada had picked out a regular outfit; at least it was comfortable, and that was always a plus. Did you think Jacob would ask you out again? Absolutely not, he was a frat boy, you knew he wouldn’t ask you out again the moment you decided you weren’t going to put out. At least you would be comfortable when you were rejected.

“How do I look?” You asked, and Vada turned around so quickly she nearly fell.

The moment she actually managed to focus on you, she fell into what looked like a daze. Her jaw dropped and her eyes were looking you up and down. And for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something. Say it, you mentally urged her, tell me to stay. You played with your fingers and watched her with hopeful eyes.

“You’re so getting laid tonight,” she whispered.

“Yippee,” you said with another huff. She was getting a lot of those out of you tonight.

“You’d better get going,” she said as she practically pushed you out of your room toward the front door. “You don’t want to be late.”

“Thought you didn’t like Jacob?” You asked.

“I don’t, but I wanna watch a movie,” she said, now opening the front door. “And you’re not invited.”

“Well that’s just rude,” you said.

“Have fun!” Vada called out as she shut the front door in your face.

You just stood there in complete shock. Had you really just gotten kicked out of your own apartment by the girl you were quite possibly in love with? Simply because she wanted to watch a movie? It was so on par for Vada that you honestly weren’t even surprised.

The door opened again and you looked in, hopeful that Vada had changed her mind. She stood in the doorway and looked at you again. Please ask me to stay, you silently begged her. But then she pushed something into your arms, which you scrambled to hold onto.

“Forgot your phone and wallet,” she said before slamming the door shut again. “Have fun!”

“Oh fuck me,” you grumbled, but nonetheless put your phone and wallet in your back pocket and left the apartment.

—---

Life sucked. It sucked and it was out to get you personally. You could get over the fact that it had started raining on the walk over to the restaurant. Then there was the fact that you had gotten lost at least three times, but that could also be forgiven. And your phone dying? Well, that was also shitty even though you had forgotten to charge it at home, so it happened.

But then you got to the restaurant and sat at the bar, like you were supposed to, and waited. And then you ordered a drink and waited some more. And some more. And wouldn’t you know it, an hour and a half and three drinks later, you were closing your tab and heading back to the apartment. The apartment that you had been kicked out of by someone who was supposed to pick up on your cues.

There was just enough alcohol in your system to have you thoroughly pissed off by the time you got back to the apartment. You could smell the weed from out in the hallway and knew Vada was either high as a kite or well on her way to it. Normally you wouldn’t care; she was respectful with it and was, honestly, pretty adorable under the influence.

Unfortunately for Vada, it just wasn’t your night.

You unintentionally slammed the door shut behind you when you entered, leaning back against it to get yourself back under control. The music was loud and obnoxious and the smell of weed was giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the fact you got stood up. Actually, maybe it was just everything.

“Nick?” Vada’s voice came from her room. At least she wasn’t smoking out in the living room like you had initially thought.

“Just me,” you called back before exhaling slowly and walking further into the apartment. The sloshing sound of your wet shoes on the floor was horrible.

“Y/N?” Something fell to the floor with a hard thud. You looked down the hallway until you saw Vada practically falling out of her room, hitting the opposite wall fairly hard. “You’re back early.”

“Yup,” you said, popping the “p” for emphasis.

“So… did he like your outfit?” She asked as she stood up, her hands instantly going to play with the hem of her shirt. Wait… was that your shirt?

“I don’t know,” you said before finally tossing your soaking wet wallet and hopefully-dry phone onto the couch. “He never showed.”

“What?” Vada asked incredulously, her sleepy eyes suddenly widening.

You huffed. “He stood me up, V.”

“But… but he asked you,” she said in a soft voice.

“It’s whatever,” you said with a sigh as you made your way into your room with Vada hot on your heels. “He wasn’t exactly the one I wanted anyway.”

“He wasn’t?” She asked. You didn’t bother turning around to look at her as you started digging in your closet for something dry to put on. “Then why did you say yes?”

“Because I was hoping a certain someone would get the hint,” you grumbled. Truthfully you didn’t care if she even heard you or not. She was high, it was not the proper time for this revelation to come out.

“If they didn’t get the hint then they’re a complete dumbass,” she said after a moment of silence. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly once again. “Because they’d be stupid not to ask you out.”

“Yeah they would,” you agreed quickly before grabbing a t-shirt from your closet. “Don’t look.”

You checked over your shoulder to see Vada on your bed, dutifully covering her eyes with both hands. Why did she have to actually listen? You were standing in the middle of your room, soaking wet, about to take your shirt off, and she wasn’t going to look? Dammit, Vada, lose your morals!

“Anyone would be lucky to date you,” she said while you peeled your wet clothes off. “And if they don’t realise that then they’re an idiot.”

“Keep talking, Cavell,” you mumbled to yourself; you knew she couldn’t hear you.

“If I ever had the chance to date you, I certainly wouldn’t screw it up,” she continued talking.

Now that had you slowing your movements, taking your time to finish kicking your pants off. It left you in your shirt and underwear, but that wasn’t on your mind. You slowly turned to look at Vada, who still had her hands over her eyes, as you went over her words.

Did she really think that? Was that the sign you had needed to know that she actually liked you back? Yes you had been playing this game for around three years at that point. And yes, you should have said something ages ago, even your dad had said so. But was she admitting that she liked you?

“Who said you didn’t have a chance?” You asked slowly, your eyes still glued to where Vada was playfully swinging her legs over the side of your bed.

“Who said I did have a chance?” She asked in reply. “I’m not stupid, I’m not your type.” You stepped closer to the bed. “Your type is a bunch of nerds who are way below your league.” You sat down on the bed beside her. “Which you should change, by the way, you can do so much better than all those other-”

-you leaned forward to capture Vada’s lips with yours, silencing her rant. It wasn’t a long kiss, you didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. Or maybe you did, you weren’t sure yet. All you knew was she was going to keep talking until she either fell asleep or you silenced her, and honestly, a kiss was the best way. It killed two birds with one stone.

When you pulled away, you watched as her hands pulled down her face and she looked up at you. Her eyes were still bloodshot and you could still smell the weed on her clothes, but she was looking at you clearly. There was a slight flush to her freckled cheeks, and you would have kissed her again if it meant she would stay looking just like that.

“You kissed me,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and a poor attempt at hiding your smile. “I did.”

“I thought you liked someone though?”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Are you serious?”

“What?” She asked as she sat up. “Are you serious? What about that person you like-”

“-I like you, Vada,” you practically shouted. She fell silent, something she didn’t do often. “You’re the other person that I like.”

“You- you like me?” She asked with wide eyes. “Me?”

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned, “yes you.”

Vada nodded slowly as her eyes fell to a spot on the bed, close to where your hand was resting. You could practically see the gears turning in her head, going over this new revelation. Part of you was upset at yourself for telling her such a thing now, when you were grumpy and a little tipsy and she was high and unexpecting. Terrible timing, really.

“I thought I was the only one with those feelings,” she finally said, slowly so as to get her thoughts out properly. Something you adored about her. “That you weren’t interested.”

“Vada, I’ve been dropping hints for the past year,” you said with a soft sight. Not a frustrated one, simply to break the tension. “Even Nick and Mia knew.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” she said without looking at you. “I didn’t want to risk not having you around just because I caught feelings.”

“You don’t just catch feelings, you know,” you said as you leaned forward a little more so you could force her to look at you.

“And you really do like me?” She asked, looking up into your eyes; suddenly, she seemed a hell of a lot more sober. “Like, for real?”

“What is this, high school?” You asked with a snort. “Yes, Vada, I like you for real.”

“So does that mean I can kiss you again?” She asked, perking up at the mere thought. “Because your lips are really soft and I think I could kiss them forever if you would let me-”

-you leaned forward and kissed her again, immediately cutting her off. But this time you didn’t pull back; you leaned even further into her, your hand moving to rest on the back of her neck. She grabbed you by the front of your shirt and pulled until she was laying down and you were leaning over her.

“Wait,” she mumbled against your lips, “you like me enough to have sex with me, right?”

“Just shut up, V,” you groaned as you kissed her again.

She didn’t argue.

You weren’t sure if you should blame it on the alcohol, or the weed, or the revelation of it all, but you weren’t in the mood to be patient. Night after night you had dreamed of having Vada in your bed, teasing her until she was a mess underneath you. But now that you had her, you just wanted to hear her fall apart.

Clearly she was in the same mood as you because her hands quickly found their way under your shirt until they brushed against your ribs. It tickled and sent a shiver down your spine, which you felt her smile about. You knew it wasn’t a competition. That didn’t stop you from placing your knee between her thighs and pressing up against her.

“Oh shit,” she groaned against your lips as her nails scratched against your skin.

You kept your knee stationary as she grinding against it hesitantly. Even through her boxers you could feel how wet she was; it wouldn’t take long before she left your thigh wet too. You started kissing your way across her jaw, leaving small kisses below her ear before moving down her neck.

Her hands left a fire in their wake as she moved them up, quickly sliding them up to your breasts that were no longer confined by the wet bra you had been wearing earlier. You both inhaled sharply when she brushed her knuckles against your nipples; her hips stuttered for only a moment before resuming.

“Hang on,” Vada whispered into your ear, and you stiffened before sitting up.

Had you done something wrong? There hadn’t been much, but what if she had decided she wasn’t okay with it anymore? It was fine, you would respect it and wouldn’t do anything else, but fuck. Fuck, maybe you had just pushed it a little too fast. You knew you should have kept your cool.

“Take it off,” she said as she pulled on your shirt lightly before struggling to get her own shirt off.

Oh. Oh right.

“Never hesitate to free the titties,” she said with a cheesy smile.

“Never say that again,” you groaned, only smiling when your shirt was hiding your face.

“I just know how to appreciate a- holy shit.”

You watched Vada’s jaw drop - again - once your shirt was finally off. Her eyes were zeroed in on one thing. Well, two things, and even though you felt a little self-conscious, you knew it was just Vada. No, not just Vada, it was your Vada. Who was still halfway in her shirt and clearly too distracted to continue.

“You’re such a horndog,” you mumbled as you leaned forward to help her pull her shirt the rest of the way over her head.

“I hit the jackpot,” she whispered.

“Just lay back down,” you said as you pushed her shoulder lightly and watched her fall back onto the bed, her eyes still glued to your breasts.

“I can still touch?” She asked.

“Yes, V,” you chuckled, “you can still touch.”

“Oh fuck yes,” she whispered before pulling you back in for a kiss.

Just as you figured, her hands instantly found your breasts again. Each touch sent a tingling sensation down to your core. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentally teased Vada earlier for being so wet. Even though you had no proof yet, you just knew you were going to be soaked if this went on much longer.

While Vada continued focusing on her newest obsession, you just let yourself feel her. Her skin was so incredibly soft and warm. It was exactly what you had expected from her. The muscles in her stomach tensed underneath your fingers before relaxing again. When you brushed your knuckles against her hip, she giggled into your mouth.

“I’m ticklish,” she said.

“I can tell,” you answered with your own smile and another kiss.

“You’re just being too soft,” she continued. Oh Vada. You kept moving your hand. “Soft touches tickle.” Your hand effortlessly slipped past the waistband of her boxers that were far too big. “Especially on my hips-”

-she stopped herself with a moan when you finally managed to rub your fingers over her clit. Oh god she was wet, you almost struggled to stay in the right spot. But when you heard her moan again, her head thrown back against your mattress, well it was worth the struggle.

“Fuck you’re good at this,” Vada managed to gasp out when you circled her clit again.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled before leaving kisses on Vada’s neck. Her hands tangled in your hair as she pulled you up into a real kiss.

“Did you have a martini tonight?” Vada asked.

“Seriously?”

“You taste like a martini,” she said, her breath coming out in huffs as you continued to slowly circle her clit. Not enough to get her off, but fast enough to keep building her up.

And then it hit you. Oh. Oh, Vada was nervous. You had both talked of your personal exploits and experiences so you knew she wasn’t a virgin. Yet she had always seemed a bit bashful about the whole thing. It all made sense now; she was simply nervous.

You removed your hand and tried not to smile at Vada’s whine at the loss of sensation. But she quickly shut up when you grabbed one of her hands and slid it under your own underwear, doing your best not to moan at the feel of her fingers on you. And just as you had expected, and much like Vada, you were soaked. Embarrassingly so.

“Holy fuck,” Vada groaned against your lips before leaning up and capturing your lips.

She bit your bottom lip when you replaced your hand and continued circling her clit. Usually you would tease, but with Vada? Right then and there, when you were so humiliatingly sensitive and probably wouldn’t last very long? No, you wanted to make her cum until she was seeing stars.

And as you moved your fingers faster, you knew it wouldn’t take long. It was in the little pants and moans she let out, the squirming of her hips, the spastic movements of her fingers. Not that you could judge, you were losing your rhythm as well, doing your best to keep your composure even as she continued to turn you to putty under her fingers.

“I’m close,” she panted.

Thank god, you thought as you rubbed your finger in faster, tighter circles. Unlike Vada, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk, knowing the second you opened your mouth you would let out a moan that would haunt you for the rest of your life. It was only a few more seconds before Vada pulled back, her eyes squeezed shut as she stilled beneath you. Her fingers continued moving, and you felt your own orgasm wash over you. You let out a groan as you rutted against her fingers to chase the high, only letting yourself fall beside her when the feeling had dissipated.

“Holy shit,” Vada whispered. “We can do that again, right?”

“Oh my god,” you chuckled as you lifted your hands to cover your eyes. “We just finished.”

“But we can do it again, right?” She asked.

You rolled over onto your side and looked at her. At the sheen of sweat covering her half-naked body and left her practically glowing under the singular ceiling light in your room. The rise and fall of her chest that was slowly but steadily returning back to normal. The absolutely stunning smile on her face that had your chest feeling warm and your stomach swarming with butterflies.

“How about we shower and then sleep,” you suggested. “And maybe we can do it again tomorrow.”

Vada turned her head to look at you, her smile still present although looking a little more mischievous.

“Can we do it in the shower?”

“Never mind, I’m going without you.”

“Wait, hang on!”

You smiled to yourself as you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, effectively locking Vada out. She stomped her foot - which you could imagine perfectly - before walking off. You half expected her to stay gone until you heard more shuffling on the other side and something slid under the door. With a half-cocked head, you picked up the piece of paper.

No boobs? :(

“Not anymore,” you called out through the door, to which Vada replied with a groan as she finally walked away, presumably to your room.

As you got in the shower, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe you should thank Jacob for standing you up. He had accidentally made a fantastic wingman.

#vada cavell x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell #jenna ortega x reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 8 months

Note

Hello! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene where the villain catches the hero doing something he's not supposed to and the villain uses that to blackmail the hero? I love your snippets, i could literally read them all day like a book lol

"Tsk. Tsk. What have we here?"

The hero froze. They ran through a million different versions of how screwed they were. Then, they swore quietly, and turned. "Is there any small chance that you're not going to make a big deal out of this?"

"You graffitiing the side of parliament? On-" The villain's gaze raked over the colours, the style, clearly matching it to the other acts of vandalism that had been making the news of late, "-multiple occasions." Their eyes it up. "Oh, they'll have your head, hero."

The hero's stomach sank. It wasn't even an exaggeration. "So no biggie. Right? You love a bit of chaos?"

The villain smiled. It was not a comforting smile.

The villain might appreciate chaos, but not so much as power.

The hero folded their arms across their hoodie, like that would somehow cover the bloody scrawl of 'inaction in the face of evil is evil, you bastards' behind them. It was complete with a rendition of the head minister's face with a moustache and devil horns and a list of the dead.

"Why are you even here?" they snapped.

"Consulting with him of the devil horns."

"Of course you bloody are."

The villain shrugged. "This administration is evil, as you say. It's very convenient. They're oh so eager to get me on board, yada yada."

"You in government?"

"Mm. It's horrifying, isn't it?"

Horrifying seemed like too mild a word. The villain was already powerful, with legal and official backing - however unjust - they would be unstoppable. Never mind that...

They were probably using the villain. Or, at least, trying to. The idiots didn't realise that the villain was a different sort of beast entirely; difficult to tame, malice not contained to cabinets and board rooms and cruel detachment. Or, maybe, they knew but were simply too greedy for what the villain could give them.

There was no way it would end well either way.

And now...

The villain's smile broadened, at the hero's expression.

"Relax, hero," the villain said. "I won't tell anyone."

"...you won't?"

"Not if you do a little something for me."

The hero stared at the villain, flat.

"Oh, come now," the villain purred. "I'm being nice."

"By blackmailing me?"

"By giving you a chance to avoid being executed on the front steps. By not instantly taking away the last hope that all these poor..." The villain swept forward, "downtrodden," they captured the hero's chin, "peasants have."

Their eyes met. The hero swallowed.

It didn't need saying that the villain could. Which meant that whatever they were after must be awful, for them to give up the chance of their ultimate victory, of the chance to get rid of the hero forever.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I have no doubt you're aware of the dance tomorrow."

"The one that costs an obscene amount of money that could be used on public infrastructure or the welfare of people who live here."

"That's the one," the villain cooed. "Come with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Come with me to the dance."

"As your accomplice to what?" The hero's eyes narrowed. "You're not going to kill them all, are you?"

"As my date."

The villain dropped their chin.

There was a long pause. The villain was implacable. The hero was having some sort of internal seizure. Emotional whiplash. Possibly an existential crisis.

"...you're blackmailing me to be your date."

"Astute observation."

"I notice you didn't say you weren't going to kill them all."

"I notice you didn't say no."

"Well," the hero huffed, face hot. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"I was half-expecting an 'I'd rather die', I'll admit."

"I mean, it was a close shout. It is..." They looked the villain up and down, then quickly looked away from the disgustingly perfect body. "You."

The villain smiled again. Wild. Savage. No politician's curve of the lips.

The hero wet their dry lips, resisting the urge to clear their throat. "And if I do this...you won't tell anyone about..." They waved a hand at the wall. "I have your word?"

For what is was worth, and the hero had never expected it to be worth quite so much, the villain always kept their word. Unlike some people.

"You have my word."

The hero felt dizzy as the adrenaline in them bottomed out. Shaky. They realised abruptly how clammy their hands were around the cans.

It still seemed too easy. The villain could have finished them. It was a stupid, ridiculous thing to be murdered for...but exactly the kind of thing the current administration didn't tolerate. That along with free speech, empathy and the other hallmarks of a caring society.

The villain turned to look at the vandalism, attention roaming over the names, the words. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking.

"Go on then," the villain murmured. "Finish up."

"You're going to watch?"

The villain didn't deign that with a response. The hero tried - and failed - not to feel self conscious as they got back to work. They'd, for obvious reasons, never had an audience before.

After what it had cost, though, they couldn't leave the job half done.

They felt the villain's eyes on them the whole time, intent and electric. It made the hero feel like they were stripping.

By the time they were done, the hero's hand was shaking.

"Very good." They felt the villain's chest pressed against their back, their breath against the hero's ear. "Remember to wear something pretty for me."

Then, they were gone.

The hero had to get out of there.

#heroes and villains #blackmail #villains #heroes #villains and heroes #hero x villain

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azrielwingspan · 2 months

Text

THE STRINGS OF FATE (AZRIEL X READER)

A/N: I've wanted to write a series based on a dark , mystery themed vibe for so long and I thought this would be a good way to start it off. I get to write about my favourite characters and transform it into something a bit darker and mystery fuelled. So I'm hoping you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed imagining it.

!! The image below does not belong to the author !!

Genre: Suspense thriller, Romance

Summary : The Prophecy. A band of words that incited terror in people but you had long since learnt that the fear of the unknown strikes deeper.

The prophecy was just the beginning of the end.

Warnings : Mentions of violence

PROLOGUE

"You would be a fool to not involve your cousin, Rhysand." Amren said coldly for the umpteenth time that night. "There is a reason the prophecy refers to the both of you. Don't try to change the course of fate boy. Not even a Lord of the Night can cross the Mother."

"I would be a fool to lead her into the arms of a certain death. If ignoring a prophecy is what must be done to keep her safe, I will do it." Rhys was growing more agitated as the conversation turned south.

"Saving one girl is worth the lives of millions?"

Silence prevailed at Amren's question. The office in the River House enclosed a dark and gloomy atmosphere as if detecting the undertone of the conversation and the issue at hand. The faelights flickered casting deep shadows across the Fae and Illyrians that had gathered in the room.

Hands clenched on the table, Rhysand took in deep breaths appearing to fight an internal battle. He had too much to lose. Too many to fight for. What was the purpose of being the most powerful high lord the world had ever seen if he couldn't keep his own family safe? He was tired of losing people, tired of fighting, tired of wondering if tomorrow would be someone's last.

"I promised her that no harm would come to her as long as I live." He said softly, seeming to speak to himself. "I made sure she was safe from Amarantha, from Hybern and mostly from myself. If it were to become public knowledge that we are related, they will hunt her down. They will torture her, use her and kill her mercilessly."

Amren's eyes softened at the agony in his voice. "The world is a cruel place, Rhysand. We do not have say in the destiny that has been chosen for us. We must simply walk, trudge and crawl along the path."

He let out scornful laugh, running his hands through his hair agitatedly. "It has been especially cruel to us I think."

Feyre's eyes lined with tears at her mate's heartache. She'd known about the things he had done to keep his cousin far away even if it hurt him. To see him unravel now because of a Cauldron damned prophecy was distressing to watch.

"Rhys." Cassian spoke into the silence that had claimed the room yet again. "I promise you, I'll keep her safe. No matter what comes her way."

"So will I." Azriel stepped up, his shadows stirring over his shoulders.

"All of us will." Feyre declared, her hand coming to rest on her mates shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Her touch seemed to relax Rhysand immediately, his shoulders drooping underneath her hand.

Placing his head in his hands, Rhysand took in a deep breath, the battle within his mind coming to a conclusion. Feyre's grip tightened lightly, giving him the energy to push through yet another decision that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

"I'll go visit her myself. Explain the situation. The Prophecy. All of it. Whether she comes or not , is upto her." The others nodded in agreement.

"That is the least I can do for her. Give her a choice..... live or die."

A/N : Comment below if you want to be added to the tag list !

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starsandhughes · 10 months

Text

Penalty Box— Cruel Weather (Part Three)

requests based off this ask: how the boys react to sissy being physically hurt

warnings: panic attacks, crying, swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of dying, mentions to throwing up, coma, mentions of medication, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: ~4.5k

General Series Masterlist

part one — part two — part three — part four

a/n this chapter is mostly trevor centered

— — — — — — —

Trevor woke up in a leather recliner in the back corner of Y/N’s hospital room with an IV in his arm, presumably filled with sedatives to calm him down. The weight of the world fell off his shoulders when he heard the now comforting steady machine beep of his girlfriend’s heartbeat. He looked over and softly smiled when he saw that the breathing tube was out and replaced with a nasal canal.

He slowly got out of the recliner and dragged the IV pole with him to the chair next to Y/N’s bed. He bent down and softly kissed her forehead before sitting down and grabbing her hand.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see you laying in a hospital bed,” Trevor whispered. “I’d like it better if I saw those pretty eyes of yours, sweet girl.”

Trevor sighed and felt his eyes watering. He missed Y/N. An unbearable amount. There was only a small period of time where they went without seeing each other. Or, talking, since he does go on extended roadies.

It was killing him.

Trevor didn’t get too long alone time before the rest of the worried mob rushed in. Quinn was ahead of everybody, but Jamie was a close second. Quinn joined Trevor on the side of Y/N’s bed, and Jamie positioned himself at the foot of her hospital bed with both hands on the rail. His head drooped down and tears began to fall.

“I thought I lost her,” Jamie spoke through tears.

Trevor got up immediately to comfort his friend. Quinn took his place in the seat next to Sissy, but not before noticing the IV bag following Trevor.

“Z?” he spoke up. Trevor turned to him and Quinn motioned towards his IV.

“Oh… I uh… apparently had such a severe panic attack and was fighting with the nurses that they had to sedate me instead of giving me an anxiety pill,” Trevor explained. “I’m glad they called you when I asked. Actually, that was all I was asking.”

Everyone had filed into the room by now, so Ellen went to find a nurse for Trevor to check him over one last time before removing the IV. Trevor was glad to be rid of it, but he wasn’t glad about the nasty bruise it left behind. It was tender, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.

“How are you guys?” Trevor asked the group.

“We made it through the night,” Alex said. That answered Trevor’s question perfectly: not well.

“Barely,” Quinn admitted. He spoke so low that Trevor barely caught it.

“I couldn’t hear anything after Quinn said that Y/N died. I guess it was an anxiety or panic attack… I don’t know. I’ve never really had one. All I know is that Jack had to stop me from running out of the house,” Jamie opened up.

“I threw up,” Quinn added to the sharing.

“I cried on the roof,” Cole said.

“I just… felt numb,” Luke said.

No one really wanted to open up, but it needed to be done. They were all in the same boat.

“At least she’s breathing better on her own,” Jack said in an attempt to shed some light on the situation. The monstrously fucked up situation. A nightmare.

The second official day of Y/N in a coma was proving to be worse than the first day. Especially since her heart stopped the night before. Every moment there was a fear that it would happen again, and that she wouldn’t pull through that time. Every beep on the machine was like a sigh of relief. It meant she was alive. It meant there was a chance that she would wake up.

After a while, Cole asked if he could have some time alone with Y/N. He and Alex were the only two that had not gotten a chance to speak to her in hopes that she could hear them. They were the only two that hadn’t gotten a chance to get everything out without everyone being around.

“I don’t know how everyone else did this,” Cole huffed out a fake laugh. “I guess it’s not too different from when we’re talking to you and you’re too distracted to listen to us.”

Cole sat on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair back, despite the fact that it was already tamed and perfectly in place.

“It was weird not watching a movie with you on facetime last night,” Cole continued. “Turc and I didn’t know what to do. Z offered to show us the list of movies you have planned for us to watch, but I said I wanted to keep the surprise. So you have to wake up before next week, okay? I know you wouldn’t want to get too far behind.”

Cole closed his eyes to keep himself from crying. He knew he should get serious. He knew that he needed to get everything out just in case something like last night happened again. He wished he didn’t have that fear. He wished he didn’t feel like he was holding his breath every second waiting for something to happen.

“My life changed when I met you. All of ours did, but I’m not here to talk about them, am I? I’ve known Jack for a while, but I didn’t meet you until we all went to NTDP, and I wish I met you sooner. You’re like… Wonder Woman. You’re compassionate, yet stubborn. And you will go to battle for the people you care about, which is honestly everyone you meet.

“I can’t think of another person less deserving of this than you. Especially because of the time of year it happened. Only Z and Jamie will be with you until we play against the Ducks, and I think that’s what gets me the most. Besides the whole… well, you know. I love being your best friend number two, and no matter what happens, no one can ever take that away from me. From us. I hope you know half the league asks us about you every day. Suzy demands that he gets hourly updates.”

Cole was saying anything and everything to keep from breaking down, but it was no use. He couldn’t get any words out now from how hard he was crying. He climbed off the bed so that he could lay his head down on the mattress and sob. Jack tried to run in, but Cole turned him away. He needed to cry it all out. Y/N’s constant saying that “the break will be harder the longer you keep everything in” was proving to be correct. He hadn’t let his feelings out all the way, yet. And the break was brutal.

The person that Cole did eventually let in was Trevor. Trevor got it. Trevor got him. Trevor sat down quietly next to him and waited to be needed. It didn’t take long for Cole to need a hug, and Trevor was happy to give it to him.

“We’ll make it through this,” Trevor told him. “I promise. No matter what. We’ll all still have each other.”

“But we might not have Sissy,” Cole sniffled.

“Careful, or I’ll tell her you used your once a month Sissy passes,” Trevor tried to joke. It fell flat, unsurprisingly. “I’m choosing not to think about losing her. I know our girl. I know my girl. She’s randomly flown to Van Couver to see Quinn and forgot to tell me. It scared the living shit out of me, but she came back. She always comes back.”

“She always comes back,” Cole repeated, more to trick himself into believing it.

“That’s right, buddy. She always comes back.”

– – –

Right outside Sissy’s hospital room, Alex was freaking out. He was struggling so hard at the idea of talking to Y/N like it might be the last time he’d ever talk to her alone again.

“I can’t! I can-” Alex was cut off by him choking down his own cries. He felt like he needed to scream. Jack and Quinn sat on either side of him and did their best to comfort their friend. “I can’t talk to her like I’m going to lose her. But if we do, and I don’t, then…”

“It’s alright, bud,” Quinn said, putting his arm around him. “She knows. She always knows.”

Quinn was interrupted by his phone ringing, so he stepped away and let Jack continue to help Alex. He was better at playing Sissy anyways.

“Matthew?” Quinn answered, confused. “Did I forget to update you?

“I’m outside the hospital,” Matthew said, not really answering his question. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. I kept hoping that she’d facetime two days ago, even though I knew she wouldn’t. I already talked to my coach. I wasn’t playing well with her on my mind. I need to be here.”

Quinn understood. He more than understood. He understood more than Matthew did.

“It just… it wasn’t a call I was expecting to ever get. And I really didn’t want something worse being told to me over the phone,” Matthew elaborated. “Can you come get me?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” Quinn said before he hung up.

Quinn told Jack that he was going to get Matthew so that he could subtly let Trevor and Cole know. He really hoped that him being here won’t take away anyone’s ability to be vulnerable, but Matthew was just as important to her as almost anyone else, despite him not being in the “group,” for lack of a better term.

When Quinn returned with Matthew, Cole and Trevor were out in the hallway.

“We thought you might want a moment alone with her,” Jack told him.

“Just don’t confess your love to her. She might leave me for you,” Trevor joked. He was proud of himself for getting a small smile out of the clearly distressed man.

“I’ll hold back, just for you,” Matthew countered before entering the room.

Matthew’s breath hitched when he saw Y/N. Not so much as a picture was sent to him. Quinn told him that she looked worse with a tube down her throat, so he was glad that she was just left with a nasal canal now. He sat down next to her, but he didn’t hold her hand. It didn’t feel right to him. It felt like it would solidify the idea of her dying.

“Hey, little mouse,” he sighed, tearing up. “It’s uh… your rat. Or I guess sometimes you call me Ratty, or Matty, or Matty Rat, Matty Ratty, anyways– whatever you’re in the mood for calling me, it’s me. Fuck, this is hard.”

He was crying silent tears now. Y/N really was in a coma. He knew it before, but seeing her makes it a hundred times worse. He’d known her for five years. He played along to her silly little school girl crush. He bought her flowers for her sixteenth birthday because she asked him to come to her party! He watched her go through her teenage years, hell– she still is one, and now he’s praying that she’ll make it through the night. He’s praying that she’ll wake up.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was trying to still be a leader for my team, but even the coaches knew I wasn’t playing like my usual self and let me come here. I can’t even imagine the pain everyone else out in the hall for you is in. Especially Quinn and Trevor.

“You don’t deserve this. I’m sure if you can hear, you’ve heard just about everyone say it, but it’s true. I don’t think anyone else would drop everything and fly to Calgary just because I’m playing against one of your friends, and I know you do that for everyone else, too. You’re a light, little mouse. For everyone. It’s getting too dark without you, so you need to wake up, okay? You’d do anything for the people you care about and that’s what we all need. You.”

Matthew finally caved and took a hold of Y/N’s hand. His tears were dropping more fiercely now, and her touch helped a little. He smiled when she squeezed his hand. Quinn told him that she might do that and it’s all subconscious, but Matthew couldn’t help but hope it was because she heard him.

– – –

The parents went to acquire lunch for everyone, and while they were out, the boys all went into the hospital room. Cole, Alex, and Jamie didn’t really know Matthew, so they were happy for the distraction of younger teenage Sissy stories from before they met her. Jamie especially, because he didn’t meet her until a few months ago. And yet, they already loved each other. That’s how special Y/N is.

“Wait, so she actually fell over the couch trying to talk to you?” Cole laughed. “How have I not heard this?”

“Because Mr. Boyfriend here doesn’t like discussing the little mouse crush era,” Matthew laughed.

“That sucks, Z, because I need to know everything,” Alex said.

“You know some of it,” Trevor mumbled. “Even when she moved to Michigan and met all of us, she still fawned over him at first.”

“Wait, you’re the Matty she couldn’t stop talking about?!” Cole shouted. “This makes so much sense!”

“She practically begged him to come to her sixteenth birthday party,” Quinn told the group.

“She tripped when he came through the door,” Jack snicked.

“You went?” Jamie asked. “Weren’t you in the league by then?”

“I was playing in Calgary,” Matthew explained. “It wasn’t too long of a plane ride and the date worked out, so I couldn’t bear to say no to her.”

“He bought her flowers and I got nothing,” Jack added, jokingly sounding bitter.

“I could go buy you something from the vending machine down the hall; would that help? Clearly, you’re still upset over your lack of a sixteenth birthday present,” Matthew teased him.

“It would,” Jack said. Matthew laughed and pulled out his wallet to give Jack his card. “Thanks, Matty!”

Silence lingered for a bit when Jack left. It started with Trevor. He stopped smiling and brought his girlfriend’s hand to his lips and lightly kissed each knuckle. Everyone saw it and just couldn’t find a reason to laugh anymore.

“She squeezed my hand,” Matthew said. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but there’s hope, right? It was after I finished speaking. So who knows? Maybe she’s getting closer.”

Trevor sent him a small smile and nodded his head, which was the best he could offer.

“I hope she can hear us,” Trevor said. “I hope she knows how loved she is.”

“She knows,” Alex said, mirroring Jack’s words to him. “She always knows.”

What Trevor didn’t tell the group is that Y/N squeezed his hand after Alex finished talking. Maybe Matthew was right, maybe she is closer to waking up.

– – –

After everyone left, Trevor was too drained to stay up. Luckily, the nurses were kind enough to keep the recliner in the corner of the room for him, so he laid it back and tried to get settled to get some sleep. He stayed on his phone scrolling aimlessly for a while before eventually passing out.

Sleep wasn’t kind to Trevor. He was plagued by endless nightmares, none of them allowing the sweet release of waking up. Over and over again he saw and heard Y/N dying. One mirrored the actual event of her flatlining, in another she woke up and died in his arms, and another she didn’t even make it out of the car. After a second showing of the actual event he witnessed the night before, he finally shot himself awake. He was panting, and he was sure that a scream escaped his lips. He wildly shook his head to try and find Y/N, and the sound of her heart beating steady brought him some ease.

He walked over to her and sat down to grab her hand, “Just keep that heart beating for me, okay, sweet girl? That’s all you gotta do.”

Trevor smiled to himself when she squeezed his hand again, but he tried to not get his hopes up. It didn’t mean anything. It was mere coincidence.

What did mean something was the soft groans that escaped her lips.

“Y/N?” he asked urgently, standing up. Nothing. “Sissy?”

His hand was squeezed again and he heard muffled sounds coming from her. He swore he heard her say “don’t call me that.”

“If you’re awake, I need you to open those pretty little eyes for me, sweet girl,” Trevor said softly as he stroked her hair. “I know it hurts, but I need to see them.”

She groaned heavily, but began to flutter her eyes open, “you’re bossy.”

Trevor collapsed into his chair and heaved the biggest sigh of relief. He took her hand in both of his and held it up to his lips, pressing a firm and lingering kiss on them and allowed the tears to fall.

“You’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” Trevor said through tears.

— — —

Your mind was muddied, but you knew the sound of your boyfriend crying well enough to know that that is what you were hearing.

“Why wouldn’t I be awake?” you slurred. Your vision was less cloudy now and you could see the situation you were in.

Hospital bed. Leg suspended in a sling. Shoulder wrapped and on a pillow-like thing. Feeling extremely groggy. In pain. Trevor’s crying.

Trevor’s crying.

You brought your hand up to Trevor’s face and cupped his cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb, “Why are you crying, my love?“

“You- you… you,” he was starting to get worked up.

“Shhhh,” you cooed. “It’s okay. I’m okay. What happened?”

“I saw you die! Your heart stopped beating and the world ended and I couldn’t do anything and I keep hearing the flat line and–”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you said. “Come here.”

“You’re hurt, Y/N/N. Bad. I don’t need to be in this bed with you,” Trevor said.

“Is anything on my upper body besides my shoulder injured ?”

“No, but–”

“So come here.”

Trevor slowly crawled into the small space between you and the bed rail.

“Lay down on my chest,” you whispered to him.

He carefully laid down on your chest, being mindful of your IV, and wrapped his arms around you.

You took deep breaths as you rubbed his back. Yeah, you were the one in the hospital, but your boyfriend just told you he saw you die and you weren’t about to let him suffer.

“See? It’s beating now,” you said low and you stroked his hair with your good arm.

“It’s beating now,” Trevor sighed in relief.

“It’s beating now,” you reaffirmed.

“I need to tell a doctor that you’re awake,” Trevor said.

“We can tell them tomorrow,” you said back. “I just want to lay with you before the real pain sets in. We can talk about whatever happened tomorrow.”

You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the hospital, but you did know that Trevor was incredibly tense and terrified. You were worried out of your mind about him. It didn’t matter how much pain medication was surely in you, even your clouded mind could tell your boyfriend wasn’t okay. You rubbed his back up and down until his tears ceased and you felt him relax against you.

“I thought our forever was going to get cut short,” he said sleepily.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you said.

“I love you, forever.”

“I love you, always.”

— — —

You woke up early the next morning to a nurse going near Trevor to probably tell him off.

“Don’t touch him,” you scolded her.

“You’re awake!” the nurse jumped. She wasn’t expecting her coma patient to be awake. “Unfortunately, this does mean we’ll need to run some tests, so he will need to get up.”

“Can you give us an hour?” you pleaded with her. She gave you a playfully scolding look, but agreed. She gave you another dose of pain medication when you said you were in some pain, making sure to emphasize that Trevor was not that source, and left. Trevor slept through it all.

You found yourself humming and slipping your hand up Trevor’s shirt to softly scratch his back. You had an hour before chaos began and you were going to cherish every second of it.

“I love it when you sing,” you heard him mumble into your chest.

“Good morning to you, too, handsome,” you laughed lightly. “Thank you.”

You felt Trevor nod his head and cuddle up closer to you, placing his head back over your heart. You had a feeling he might need to do that a lot.

“My love, can you check what time it is? The nurse gave us an hour,” you said sleepily.

Trevor groaned but he carefully got off of you to check his phone. His sleepy eyes were soon filled with panic, “Oh shit! Shit!”

Alarmed, you tried to sit up, but you felt a jolt of pain and cried out. Trevor rushed over and eased you back down.

“Are you okay?! Do you want me to get a nurse? I should–”

“Z! Why did you say oh shit?” you cut him off.

“I didn’t immediately tell Quinn that you woke up, and when he finds out that I didn’t–”

“Quinn’s here?” you asked.

Trevor sat down on the edge of your bed and grabbed your hand, “Everyone’s here, sweet girl. They all flew in. Half the league’s been asking for updates. You’re famous, kid.”

You didn’t know how to take that. You were in pain, sure. Apparently you died which was already too much to think about. And now virtually everyone you know is asking about you? It wasn’t fun to think about. It wasn’t fun to think about how many people have worried over you. Trevor was a mess, and you couldn’t even begin to think about everyone else.

You’re the go to person. You vow to make every single person you hold dear, every single person you love, feel safe and loved. You’re the person people go to for support. You have people to go to, but who do you go to when everyone else is struggling with you?

Eventually your hour alone with Trevor was over, at apparently five am, and he had to be kicked out for testing. He freaked out a tad— okay a lot— but he settled for waiting outside in the hall with the door open and you periodically telling him that you were still there. That didn’t last long. A nurse accidentally caused your heart monitor to fall off your finger, causing the flat line to sound again, which caused Trevor to scream. You tried to call out to him, but your voice was too weak and his voice was too strong.

“Help him!” you shouted at a nurse.

You hated what happened next. Trevor’s cries and screams died down, and you were told that they put him in a room after being lightly sedated to calm him down. They explained to you that it happened two nights ago, as well.

“If he stayed in that recliner last time, he needs to be brought in here again. Or he’ll wake up and freak out again,” you told the nurse. “Trust me on that.”

She ended up listening to you, since he did spiral himself into a panic attack just because you were out of his sight. You didn’t know he actually had one, you thought it was just screams. You wished you were right.

You had just enough energy left in you to wait for Trevor to be placed in the recliner. He was out of it, he barely classified as a human at this point. You watched as he got settled and the nurses left, and when his eyes closed, so did yours.

You didn’t know how long you were asleep, but Trevor had drug his IV to your bedside and parked himself in the chair next to you.

“Are you okay?” you asked groggily.

“What? I should be asking you that” Trevor said, dodging your question.

“Z,” you said seriously.

Trevor just looked at you. He looked so guilty. He looked so broken.

“Jack told me that the second you open your eyes, I need to be strong for you if none of them are here. None of them are here yet today and instead of being strong, have an IV with sedatives to not have a panic attack,” Trevor said quietly. “Not even pills, Y/N! An IV bag!”

“Okay, okay,” you got out quickly. “Trev, what you saw is scarring. You never should have seen that, and I’m so sorry that you did. We’re gonna be a bit of a mess for a while it seems, but we’ll be a mess together. We can take turns being the strong one.”

“I need to take care of you,” Trevor said. “You’re hurt, Y/N/N. Bad. You’re going to need help doing everyday things. I can’t be a mess when you need me.”

“Yes you can, Z,” you told him, rubbing his hand with your thumb. “I don’t want anyone holding in anything for me, because that’ll make the break so much harder. Just because I’m going to need help physically doesn’t mean we can’t help each other mentally.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think all of us are going to need help mentally,” Trevor admitted.

You gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand, “Good thing I’m awake then, huh?”

Trevor smiled back, but you could tell he really didn’t mean it.

“Jack was playing your part, don’t worry. He held us together for a while.”

“It’s a twin thing,” you joked.

“That’s what Jack said,” Trevor laughed lightly, making you actually smile.

You could tell Trevor was still uneasy, so you had him lay down with you again, but this time he got next to you. You couldn’t lean against him, because moving was agonizing, but the touching of shoulders and your unbroken leg between his was enough for you. He caught you up on everything. He didn’t like it, but you needed it. You needed to know what happened to your friends and family while you were out. All of it absolutely broke your heart, but you were ready to heal with everyone. Physically and mentally. Together.

He told you that almost everyone had a moment alone with you. You wished it was like the movies because you wish you could’ve heard them.

“Do you remember what you said?” you asked Trevor.

“You want to know what I said?”

“I want to know what everyone said. It might help us all get through this.”

Trevor checked his phone, “Visiting hours start in an hour. Why don’t we just lay here together until they come and at some point you can hold one on one therapy sessions?”

It was a reasonable request. You were exhausted, and Trevor had already been through so much in the last three hours. Trevor put a movie on his phone, The Hunger Games, and you laid your head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep again.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread fics <;3

#penalty box series: imagines #penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras angst #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #luke hughes #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #quinn hughes angst #hockey imagine

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agoodomenssideblogiguess · 5 months

Text

What if Aziraphale wasn't on earth between 1941 and 1967?

What if, the same way Crowley was brought back to Hell in 1827 Aziraphale was recalled to Heaven in 1941?

Hear me out: Aziraphale has been making slow but steady progress within his character arc right? In 1941 at the end of the night, sharing drinks with Crowley in the bookshop, Aziraphale was willing to accept that things are not always black and white and sometimes there is room for shades of grey (albeit very light grey). Compare this to his thinking concerning Elspeth. Aziraphale kept flip flopping back and forth over whether Elspeth's actions were good or bad. He didn't seem to consider her actions were ethically complicated. In his mind they could either be good or bad depending on whatever information came to light in the moment.

It also seems that after the church, the magic trick, and the shades of grey discussion, Crowley and Aziraphale are back on good terms with one another. At the very least, talking and willing to spend time together again. Other than the mention of how easily accessible the holy water is in the church, Crowley doesn't seem to mention or allude to his request again. However, in 1967, it feels like their interactions are strained again. Aside from the awkwardness and tension in their conversation, it's also strange that Crowley is surprised to see Aziraphale in the Bentley (despite being PARKED IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP) and that Aziraphale is only aware of what Crowley is up to through second-hand means “I work in Soho, I hear things." (You don't need to 'hear things' when Crowley is conducting those things IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP)

So what happened? My theory: Aziraphale has been serving out a punishment in Heaven since 1941.

Fandom consensus seems to be that there is a 1941 pt. 3 coming next season and many are hoping for a kiss or something undeniably romantic (I am too ngl). But what if it's actually a scene where Aziraphale gets dragged back up to heaven?

Shax said that 80-90 years ago was the first time that she heard about Crowley and Aziraphale being an item. We can assume that this 80-90 years ago was during Furfur’s failed evidence presentation to Dagon and F(r)iends.

A lot of demons were hanging around in that scene. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them (or Shax herself) got in touch with an angel in Heaven and let them know about the rumor downstairs of Crowley working with an angel on Earth.

Obviously, Heaven can’t allow that, and who else could it be other than Aziraphale? He’s the only angel down there, so they recall him. Without evidence though, and given that (1) it's a demon's word against an angel's; (2) less than a century and a half ago, Gabriel awarded Aziraphale a medal for his work on earth (bookstore opening cut scene); and (3) as far as we know, Aziraphale hasn’t had any major offenses other than frivolous use of miracles, I don’t think Heaven can really do much. That doesn’t mean they don’t do anything, I just don’t think they do anything like use hellfire on him or make him fall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Heaven still has to make an example out of Aziraphale for getting caught working with a demon. I think whatever punishment Heaven doles out, keeps Aziraphale up in Heaven for a long time.

(Small tangent: If it can be traced back to one event rather than a slow progression over millenia, this rumor is also probably what makes all the archangels be so cruel to Aziraphale (or at least finally gives them permission to act on what they’ve been wanting to do for ages). Maybe this is when they start looking into Aziraphale’s past endeavors and notice Crowley everywhere.)

It could be worse, if there had been evidence, it would have been worse. Still (Aziraphale might think), this is Heaven, 'the side of good', they wouldn't take it too far. He probably received a trial before his punishment began. And yeah the trial is more for show than anything else, but it's not like Hell would have bothered with any of that. Hell would probably delve right into whatever torture they'd decided for punishment. His time spent in Heaven, no matter how intense the punishment, would have been a breeze to tolerate compared to what Hell would do to Crowley. Speaking of which...

By the time Heaven lets Aziraphale back down to Earth, I think he would be a mess of mindless worry. He had just come to terms with his feelings for Crowley after all. Maybe this is why Aziraphale decides to give Crowley the holy water after all. He's had more than enough time in Heaven to realize that as much as he wants to protect Crowley and keep him safe, all that intent means nothing if he's stuck in Heaven because of his own carelessness. In Aziraphale's absence (or destruction), holy water could keep Crowley safe, at least from Hell, even if it is dangerous. Once Aziraphale is back on Earth, when he hears what Crowley was plotting, it probably further cements his decision to give it to him.

If Aziraphale got taken up to Heaven right after the magic show, he probably has no idea if his palming of the polaroid worked for sure. The bookshop is a safe place for Crowley to be away from Hell, but how long will that last? Is it still an embassy with Aziraphale up here in heaven? Is Crowley defenseless against the other demons down there? Did Hell come for Crowley after all even without evidence?

So how long is Aziraphale gone for? We already know that after Crowley got sent back to hell in 1827 and Aziraphale didn’t see him again for “a very long time.” The next meeting we, as an audience, see between them is the holy water request in 1862. So at worst, Crowley's been in Hell for ~30 years. Heaven probably would have taken Aziraphale back for a similar amount of time. And wow look at that, 26 years ago by between 1941 and 1967.

There’s enough ambiguity in the set and dialogue to allow for this length of absence as well. I already wrote a post about how ridiculous Aziraphale is for saying 'I work in Soho I hear things' in 1967 when the whole scene takes place outside the bookshop and how equally ridiculous Crowley is for seeming to think Aziraphale wouldn't notice him prancing around the block plotting to steal from a church. But maybe Crowley conducting his holy water heist business all over Aziraphale's corner of Soho is because as far as he knows Aziraphale isn't around anymore. In my post, I point out that the bookshop is blocked off by the "Striptease" and "Love Shop Cinema" signs but that you can tell it’s the bookshop because of its pillars.

I admitted that it was weird to cover up half the windows, but didn't really have any diegetic explanation for it. Maybe the explanation is that Aziraphale’s bookshop has been abandoned for years. In which case, I think Crowley might be hanging around Soho caring for it and the books, making sure it doesn't get vandalized, protecting it from snooping humans, etc. (tangent: this could also be why Aziraphale says that the bookshop is both of theirs. Maybe the "plenty of use" he said Crowley got out of it was while Aziraphale was away. Maybe Crowley used it as a pseudo base of operations.)

Aziraphale being gone would also explain why, suddenly, 105 years after his initial request, Crowley is plotting to steal holy water from a church. Aziraphale has been gone a long enough time that Crowley is starting to get antsy. Maybe he’s starting to think that Aziraphale is gone for good (not dead, he is an OPTIMIST DAMMIT). I think Crowley is spurred to start the holy water heist because he thinks Aziraphale isn’t going to be assigned to earth any more and whoever they're sending down next is going to be more of a smitey kind of angel. And if Aziraphale isn’t around anymore, then the demon-proof-except-for-Crowley-bookshop/embassy is also likely not going to stop any demons from getting to Crowley whenever they want. If Aziraphale is really not coming back, then Crowley is alone again, on his own side, for the first time since they saved Job's kids. He's gonna really need that insurance now more than ever and unfortunately, he has no one else to rely on. He’s gonna have to procure it himself, even if it’s dangerous and dumb.

Aziraphale's absence (as much as I am loathe to let go of the theory that Aziraphale and Crowley are just being incredibly dramatic idiots) can also explain some of the dialogue from the 1967 scene.

“What are you doing here?” might seem a silly thing to say when Crowley is parked outside of the bookshop, but makes sense if he's reacting to seeing Aziraphale for the first time in years, so damn close it can’t be a dream, right inside the Bentley.

“I work in Soho, I hear things,” is not just a way to give the audience exposition that Crowley wouldn’t need but a way for Aziraphale to explain why he’s there.

The barely concealed desperation in Crowley's voice when wanting to give Aziraphale a lift home (despite being LITERALLY OUTSIDE THE BOOKSHOP), or to take him anywhere he wants, makes a little more sense if he hasn’t seen him in years, wants to catch up, and doesn’t even know where Aziraphale would be staying if not the bookshop.

If this theory is true and Aziraphale has been absent between 1941 and 1967, it could explain why we don't see the bookshop in the 1967 scene even though everything else in the scene points to it taking place on that corner, it would give Aziraphale a reason for deciding to give Crowley the holy water after all even though hes been stubbornly opposed to it for more than a century, and it could also explain why even though he was making a lot of progress character wise to, it felt like he was regressing again.

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #long post #i would love to hear what you all think about this #im sure im missing stuff that this theory cant explain within the show #but it feels pretty solid to me

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queenshelby · 1 month

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part 24: Love & Tears

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Getting through work that day was difficult, every movement magnified in its struggle. The weight of your feelings pressing on your chest as if someone was sitting on top of you, making every task ten times harder.

Eventually, the day came to an end and Lucy accompanied you home where you had an almost ice cold shower - the water hitting your sensitive, overwrought skin was a cruel reminder of your sleepless night and emotionally exhausting day.

What Max had said to you played on your mind

in an infinite loop, the words forcing you to question yourself and your actions as well as the consequences of what you had done.

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the condensation fogging up the glass, making it difficult to see your reflection clearly, you couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a time when you would be able to move past this and find some semblance of peace and contentment. And you also wondered whether Cillian and you could ever have more than just stolen moments and secret rendezvous.

Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, you got out of the shower and toweled off, your body aching for solace of some sort. Reaching for your phone, you contemplated sending a message to Cillian, seeking his comfort in the face of what happened. You were craving to see him, to be held in his embrace, to lose yourself in his piercing gaze and feel his lips on your skin.

But you hesitated. You remembered what his lawyer had said but complying with this request was difficult to say the least.

Thus, pushing the doubts to the back of your mind, you crafted the text: 'Hey. Can we meet tonight? I really need to see you.

After pressing send, you hesitantly set your phone down and retreated to your bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited anxiously for Cillian's response. It was as if every second that ticked by was an eternity, and you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of doubt settling over you. But then, just as you were about to give up hope, you heard the familiar chime of your phone, signaling a new message.

It was Cillian. Your heart leapt with joy as you read his response, suggesting that you come over to his place now that he had it scanned for cameras.

"I will see you shortly," you texted back in response, your fingers flying over the screen with an eager certainty before you called an Uber

to take you to Cillian's apartment.

As you got dressed, you realized that the physical and emotional turmoil of the day had taken a toll on you. You opted for a more comfortable outfit—a loose-fitting jumper and a pair of slim-fit jeans paired with some Converses. You pulled your hair into a messy bun and applied a touch of makeup to conceal the remnants of your emotional breakdown earlier in the day.

When you arrived, Cillian opened the door, his eyes scanning your tired yet beautiful face. He could that something was wrong, but before he could ask, you wrapped yourself around him, your arms tight around his waist, your face buried in his neck. You let out a deep, shuddering breath, feeling his warmth and solidity grounding you, offering the solace that you craved. His strong hands stroked your back, the tender touch calming you, as if the mere act of his gentle touch could heal your ragged heart.

"I am sorry. I know I should be staying away but I needed - oh god I don't even know what I need," you whispered against his neck as he pushed the door shut while, at the same time, never letting go of you.

He then leaned back and tilted your face to look into his eyes. Concern etched in fine lines around his mouth and the tiny creases around his piercing blue eyes. His short hair slightly disheveled from you running your fingers through it nervously. Your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart below his shirt.

"It's okay," Cillian assured you, his voice soothing and steady as you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude in your eyes.

"I am so sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"For what?" Cillian questioned gently, tracing the curve of your cheek with his thumb as he spoke.

You shook your head, feeling tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.

"For everything," you whispered, the gravity of those two words carrying a burden that threatened to crash down on you at any moment. "For involving myself in all this and causing so much drama in your family," you continued, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on your shoulders.

Cillian frowned, a pained expression flickering across his face.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and measured. "I made a choice when I got involved with you and whatever is happening in my family right now is my fault and my problem, not yours," Cillian told you emphatically. His eyes bore into yours, holding your gaze with unwavering intensity. It was his way of trying to comfort you, to relieve you of the guilt that you were feeling.

But it didn't completely dissipate the burden on your shoulders.

"I saw Max today," you told Cillian, your voice barely above a whisper as the memory of the confrontation still weighed heavily on your heart. "He blames me for breaking up you and Danielle and I feel as though I did exactly that," you confessed, your voice cracking with emotion.

"Hey," Cillian said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Max is upset right now and needs time to process what's happening," he told you, his voice soothing as he tried to provide some comfort. "Despite, he doesn't know everything that has been going on between Danielle and myself in the last few years," Cillian admitted, taking a deep breath.

You looked at him in surprise, realizing that there was still so much about Cillian's life that you were oblivious to. "What do you mean?" You asked him, your curiosity piqued.

Cillian hesitated for a brief moment before deciding to come clean with you. "He knows about her inflicting injuries to herself on purpose, but he does not why is doing it nor does he know the extent of it all or how long this has been going on. He thinks that it is attention seeking behavior because I am cheating on her, but he does not know about the threats she has made nor did I tell him about the cameras and a few other things his mother pulled over the years," Cillian confessed, pausing for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

"After my career took off, she changed and became increasingly paranoid—always checking up on me and accusing me of cheating on her, which I never did. Not until now. It just got worse from there and sometimes she even took out her frustration and anger on me. I wish I could've left her sooner, but it was not that easy," Cillian continued, the depth of pain and weariness in his voice palpable.

"When you came to the hospital, you said that you got hurt while preventing her from hurting yourself," you recalled softly., causing Cillian to sigh deeply and nod.

"Yes, I did and there is some truth to it. When I saw her with the knife that night, I thought that she was going to cut herself again," Cillian confessed, taking a deep breath. "So, I tried to get the knife away from her and she lashed out at me but, trust me, this was nothing," he continued, his voice weary and pained, hinting at deeper, darker secrets.

"She would do this all the time, even when Max was still a child. She would hurt herself so badly that she would need emergency care, but once she was inside the ER and knew she had my attention, she would snap out of it," Cillian recounted, his memories dark. "Other time, she would just yell, and shout, and throw stuff at me until I conceded and pretended that I was going to 'agree' to her demands so that she would calm down," Cillian told you more honestly than ever before. "I tried to shield Max from most of this and I still want him not be burdened by it. He hates me, he doesn't need to hate his mother as well," Cillian said very softly, looking at you with a mixture of sadness and regret in his eyes.

You couldn't imagine how difficult this must have been for Cillian, being trapped in this toxic dynamic for so long and constantly walking on eggshells to keep Max from finding out about the true extent of his mother's erratic and volatile behavior.

As you looked into his eyes, you could see the strain and the weight of his burden, the sadness that he carried around for far too long.

"Is this why you sent him to boarding school? To get him away from Danielle?" you asked, gently tracing a finger over the faint dark circles that lingered underneath his piercing blue eyes.

Cillian nodded. "I wanted him to be safe and have a normal childhood," he explained.

"He hated you for that, for making him live away from home," you said softly, recalling Max's own words.

"I know," Cillian sighed, his shoulders sagging as the weight of his mistake pressed upon him. "But it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, for Max's safety and wellbeing," Cillian admitted bitterly.

"I understand," you assured him, squeezing his hand softly. "It's not easy trying to protect someone you love, especially if they don't understand the reasons behind it," you continued softly, threading your fingers through his as you offered him a small, comforting smile.

Cillian simply took a deep breath and met your gaze, returning your tender smile with one of his own before sighing heavily.

"So, I am sorry that Max is blaming you now. I should have told him about his mother's twisted game when I had the chance last week,"

Cillian lamented, guilt reflected in his piercing blue eyes. "I will talk to him tomorrow," he added determinedly but you shook your head.

"No," you insisted quietly, surprising both yourself and Cillian with the strength of your conviction. "It's best if you allow him to cool down for now and tell him in time," you told him, understanding Cillian's reasoning better now.

Cillian looked at you, his gaze softening even further, if that was at all possible. "Are you sure?" he asked gently.

You nodded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "Yes. It's best for now," you agreed, leaning against Cillian's chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

He sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling against your back as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

Eventually, Cillian broke the silence. "You know," he murmured softly while caressing your hair, his tone intimate. "I really have fallen hard for you, Y/N," Cillian then tightened his embrace around you, pulling you closer. "You are perfect in every way," he whispered, his fingers tingling on your skin.

You couldn't help but smile, enjoying the feeling of Cillian's hands on your skin. "I love you," you admitted quietly, and he looked at you, his beautiful blue eyes filled with warmth and desire.

Cillian leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his fingers gently tangled in your hair. You responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I love you too," Cillian murmured against your lips before, slowly, indulging in the kiss again.

The world around you disappeared, and there was only you and Cillian, the reality barely brushing the surface of your consciousness as you got lost in the adrenaline, the desire, the taste and feel of Cillian.

Before long, your bodies moved in sync with one another, the kisses growing more passionate and heated.

"Bedroom?" you asked as, eventually, the passion between you was burning with an intensity that was hard to resist.

Cillian nodded his reply, not trusting himself to speak.

He loosened his embrace, taking your hand to guide you towards his bedroom.

Each step they took seemed to be in slow motion, stretching out the anticipation. The air buzzed with an electric energy, like the moment right before a lightning storm started to rage.

Cillian softly closed the bedroom door, locking out the outside world and all its concerns. His gaze did not leave yours as he tugged you gently toward the bed and all you wanted right now was for him to make gentle and passionate love to you.

His touch was so gentle making the anticipation of what was about to happen almost unbearable.

As he pulled you down onto the bed, you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, feeling like time had slowed down and you were just the two of them against the world.

"Cillian," you breathed, as you felt his lips brush against yours, slowly, deliberately, in a way that was more erotic than it had any right to be.

"Yes?" Cillian murmured against your lips as you whispered his name. His hands roamed over your body, leaving hot trails of desire in their wake.

You arched against him, your body begging for more.

"Make love to me," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

Cillian groaned at your words and deepened the kiss. His body pressed against yours, his hardness rubbing up against your core, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.

You gasped, breaking the kiss as you felt Cillian's fingers slip under your shirt, trailing gently across your skin.

He caressed your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple as the heat between you intensified.

Cillian watched you as he did this and the way your eyes fluttered closed as a shudder ran through you, was the biggest turn-on for him.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he leaned down to kiss your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin, causing you to shiver with delight.

His lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of it.

His hands continued their exploration of your body, sliding lower to pull at the waistband of your jeans. And the moment he managed to slip his fingers beneath the denim, you gasped, arching against him.

"Please," you whispered against his lips, your voice almost a whimper.

Cillian didn't need any more encouragement. He undressed you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours as he revealed your naked body. He slipped off his own clothes before climbing back onto the bed, covering your body with his.

You couldn't help but marvel at the feeling of his skin against yours, every touch sending waves of desire pulsing through you.

You ran your hands over his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your fingers as he shifted above you.

Cillian's lips found yours again, his kiss gentle but demanding. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he was trying to memorize every detail.

Your hips rose to meet his, grinding against him as the heat between you threatened to consume you both.

You reveled in the feeling of his hardness pressed against your center, each exhale a soft moan as you arched up into him.

Cillian's hand slipped between you, fingers finding your slick folds and rubbing gently at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped, your hips bucking against him as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Cillian," you breathed, your voice a trembling whisper as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb still circling your clit.

"Oh god," you gasped, your fingers digging into his back as you arched up into him, chasing the pleasure that was building inside you.

Cillian's lips slipped from yours as he watched you, his eyes dark with desire. He added a second finger, your slickness making the motion easy as a soft moan escaped from your lips, your back bowing off the mattress.

"Please, I need you inside me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian groaned, the sound low and primal as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, the feeling of being joined with Cillian again was tantalizing and exquisite, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As he started to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. You could feel every stroke in your very core as the two of you moved together, your bodies as one.

You continued like this for almost an hour, slow and sensual. The rhythm was perfect and, eventually, when you were ready to let go, Cillian pushed you closer and closer to the edge with each delicious thrust.

Your breathing hitched, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you. The edge was near, the sensitivity so intense that you could barely stand it but that didn't stop you from craving more.

Cillian nibbled at your neck, leaving marks on your skin that marked you as his own. He was marking you and he didn't want to stop, his movements wild and needy, echoing your own.

The sheets were a tangled mess around you as Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you straddled his hips.

Your body moved with his, your swaying matching the rhythm of Cillian's hips as his thrusts continued to send sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hair tickled his chest and Cillian's hands rested on your hips, guiding you as you took control of your movements.

You rode him hard and fast, the heat between you building so quickly that it made your head spin.

"I am close," you sighed, your voice a breathless husk of its usual self as Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter, urging you on.

"Me too," Cillian admitted huskily, his eyes dark with desire as they roamed over your body, lingering on the curves and swells of your breasts.

You leaned forward, resting your hands on Cillian's chest as you rocked your hips faster. His breath caught in his throat as your nipples grazed against his skin.

Each rock of your hips sent waves of pleasure through both your bodies, building towards a crescendo that neither of you could resist.

Cillian reached up, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone as his other hand drifted up to cup your breast. He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, causing you to gasp and shudder with pleasure.

The room around you spun as you moved faster, feeling the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you.

Suddenly, with a cry, you shattered, pleasure exploding outward from your core, washing over you in wave after wave of ecstasy. You collapsed against Cillian, his arms coming up to hold you close as he continued to thrust upward into you.

"Y/N," Cillian groaned, the pressure in his own body reaching its breaking point as pleasure spilled through him. With a shudder, he followed you over the edge, his own release crashing down over him like a wave.

You lay there, your breathing heavy and ragged as you tried to catch your breath.

Your head rested against Cillian's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his own breathing as he gently stroked your back. His fingers trailed over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"I needed this," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you raised your head to look at him. "I needed you," you added, your gaze meeting his.

Cillian smiled softly, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "I needed you too, Y/N. I always need you," he assured you, his voice gentle yet firm.

It was true. The connection between you was palpable and intense. It had been from the moment you first met, you knew it, and Cillian knew it too.

The following morning, however, everything came crashing down on you as, at around 7 o'clock, there was a knock on the door.

You glanced over at Cillian, who looked as panicked as you felt. You both scrambled to put your clothes on as hurriedly as possible before rushing out into the living room.

As Cillian opened the door, you were surprised to see Max standing there, his expression full of surprise when he spotted you gathering your things in Cillian's Livingroom.

"You are joking, right?" Max demanded, looking at his father with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. "I came here to talk about mum and, here you are, with my fucking girlfriend."

The words hung heavy in the air, like a foul stench that refused to dissipate no matter how many times you tried to ignore it.

Cillian's face paled, his expression a mixture of guilt and fear. "Max, listen," he began, but Max cut him off with a raised hand.

"No, don't bother explaining this time. I don't want to hear your bullshit lies again," Max spat, his gaze flicking to you for a brief moment before settling back on Cillian. "Mum is right, neither of you deserve my attention," he declared, his voice shaking slightly as he struggled to hold in his emotions.

"Max, I'm sorry, but..." Cillian tried, but Max shook his head, cutting him off.

"Sorry isn't enough anymore dad," Max said, his voice barely above a whisper before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Cillian and you standing there in a stunned silence.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic #cillian fanfic #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic

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blingblong55 · 11 months

Text

Are you there? - 141

Reader goes missing on a mission.

This is based on a request

F!Reader, Angst?(idk anymore)

The team and you were in a high profile mission. Laswell thought you'd be perfect bait for this one. However it was a deal/plan between you and her. You would get the men out and give yourself up so they could return back to base. All is going well so far.

"Price?"

''R/n, you and Gaz take left, meet us at extraction point.'' he commanded and you obeyed. Gaz was hit in the head by some gravel. You pushed him out and dragged him to extraction. You ran back and made the enemy chase you. Soap and Ghost ran towards him as soon as they noticed he was unconscious. Price looked around, but no sight of you.

''Fuck, where are you kid.'' he said under his breath.

''This is Bravo six, how copy?''

''What is the matter?'' Laswell responds.

''We've lost the kid, she's nowhere to be seen.''

At that moment Laswell knew the plan you two had made worked, ''did you all make it to extraction?''

''yes, but we have to go back for her-''

''negative, you and the others get on that helicopter and leave, no need to fight.''

''we lost the kid, what do you mean negative?''

''get on that heli Price, thats an order.''

----------

The ride on the helicopter was...confusing, to say the least. Soap would look out the window and to the ground, he'd ask too many questions. Ghost was looking for any smoke signal, but nothing. Gaz, although injured fought the medics and tried at many occasions to jump out and go search for you. Price was quiet.

It was odd for Laswell to just tell him to leave you behind, knowing well that you and him had grown a daughter-father relationship.

After the medics tranquilized Gaz, Price turned to his men. ''You two meet me at my office.''

Soap and Ghost nod and continue doing their own thing.

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

At base, the three men sat there, plotting their next move. Soap tried not to think of what could've happened to you. What if you were looking for him in all that smokey mess? What if the enemy saw you and knocked you down?

All he kept doing was touch the small bracelet you had given him not long ago. It was regret, maybe if Ghost would've gone with you and Gaz you'd be annoying him with your stupid jokes by now.

''She's going to be okay.'' Price tried to say with confidence. Ghost took out a picture of you and the rest of the team. You and Soap doing some funny pose whilst he flexed his arms. It was a good day that day.

---------

There you were, hanging from your arms at some old base. You had been beaten up over the course of 13 hours. Your own blood soaking your uniform. The matching bracelet holding onto your wrist as a reminder there are people waiting for your return.

Gaz was the first one you thought of. How hard he must be on himself for losing sight of you. And then you thought of Price, no one to hear his stupid corny dad jokes. Ghost probably reliving some stress from his past because now you weren't there like his own family. And then the one you tried to not think of the most, your best friend in all, Soap.

How much he would be arguing with Laswell over the decision. The dumb bracelet you got him after you over heard it was meant for a forever kind of friendship.

As your own blood dripped down your weak limbs, it was them who you thought of. The one family no one would ever take from you. The one thing this cruel world would'nt dare understand.

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

''R/N!'' a muffled voice called for you.

''Are you there?'' another deeper voice ushered.

Your vision blurry as you tried to keep your eyes open, but you knew it was time to let go.

''...go Home'' the sweet voice said, you felt warmth, a sense of familiarity.

You soon met darkness.

A/N: this one is short I know...but hey..its something am I right?

Tags: @ghostslittlegf

(hope this is angsty enough for ya)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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tw1l1te · 2 months

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 2

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft and domestic, suggestive themes

Authors note: I was too excited to not post this lmao :3c

Time seemed to stop, and you didn’t mean by the Old Man.

Time literally seemed to halt. You stared at Rusl, trying to find any signs of lying or amusement in his eyes, as if this was some joke. A cruel, twisted joke.

“W-what?” you asked, the only word you could muster. You could feel your fingers shake on the table. You didn’t want to believe what Rusl said, or did you? You weren’t sure.

You weren’t sure if you’d accepted the fact on whether or not you were coming home ever again, but you didn’t think it would happen now, or so soon. Maybe Hylia wanted to see how your head would react. A twisted game for her, like it always is.

“Are you sure that’s what she said? Maybe she meant something else-"I know what she said. I may be old, but I saw what she wrote clear as day. There’s another mirror.”

Before anyone could say anything else, you stormed out of the cottage, the door squeaking on it hinges as you storm out.

“Y/n! Wait!!” Hyrule yells after you.

Before you could stop yourself to calm down, you break into a spring, heading straight towards the forest. You needed to run. Run. RUN.

This couldn’t be happening. You researched and combed through Hyrule Castle’s archives to find any sliver of hope that you’d be able to come home. Even if it said it was impossible, you never found anything to begin with. You had no answers.

You don't know when you stopped running, you panted as you sat up against a tree, silent tears running down your cheeks and down your neck. Breathing was so difficult, you began hiccuping and hyperventilating, gripping onto your hair for any kind of grounding back into reality. That’s when you felt something wet on your forehead.

Looking up, you were relieved for it to just be Wolfie, or Twilight.

“Twilight you shouldn’t have followed me.” you whispered into his fur.

Twilight turned back into his Hylian form, your face still in his pelt.

“I needed to make sure you were okay. Can’t leave you alone, especially in Faron Woods. Who knows what’s still out here,” he murmured into your hair, combing through your sweaty locks. He kissed the top of your forehead, hesitating before pulling back.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/n. I promise. We’ll be with you, every step of the way, ok? We’re gonna find you a way to go home. Whether it be this lead or if we find something else.”

You sighed. Twilight was always the more outwardly calm person in the chain, alongside Time and Warriors.

“Twilight that’s the thing… I’m not even sure if I want to go home. It’s probably been years back home, hell I don’t even know if I have my apartment or my friends or… But its not like I don’t want you, y’know? I’ve been dreaming of going home since I first came here, I’d been up for nights at a time just researching in the underground library archives. I-I don’t know what to do or think, Twi.” you rambled, voice breaking at the end, letting more tears slip out.

“Although I don’t know exactly what you’re feelin’, I’m here for you, whatever it is that happens. We’re all here for you.”

He takes a breath.

“Speaking of the others, we should head back to the village, the others are probably worried sick about you.”

You nodded without a word, getting up and making back to Ordon Village together, Twilight wrapping his pelt around your shoulders. It smelled like him, you thought.

Twilight never gives anyone his pelt, its the one thing he sees as his. So why’d he give it to you? He has no idea. Instinct, he thinks. It’s cold, you needed it more than him. He looks down at you, your pink cheeks and wet lashes making you look more fragile and doll-like. Your cute nose sniffing every few seconds, breathing in the cold air. Your ears were so small, littered with at least 3 or 4 piercings, one of which was a triforce.

Twilight smiles slightly. He always liked the little pieces of “memorabilia” you had of them. It was incredibly strange and unsettling when they first found out, but he sees it more as like your belonging to them admiration of them.

Twilight’s train of thought stopped for a moment.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

Before he could ruminate on his psyche, he’s shaken out of his thoughts by Wind yelling “Oh thank fucking Hylia!”

You came back into Twilight’s treehouse, heading toward the bathroom to take a warm bath. You noticed that the tub was already filled, hot steam coming off the surface of the water. You’d have to thank whoever drew you the bath.

Stripping your clothes, you set them in a pile near the door. You step into the tub, wincing slightly at the hot water making contact with your skin. It was a bit too hot for you, but you knew the water will cool off fast enough, so you powered through it.

You sighed. This was nice. Even with the chaotic stream of thoughts coursing through your head, the bath seemed to dull it, even for just a moment. You grab your hair and start combing through it, no doubt getting knots from running through the woods earlier. You look at the necklace Four made for you a few months ago. It was to commemorate a year being with the Chain, which in retrospect should’ve made you sad, but it made you extremely happy and grateful for everyone in the group

You knew it was much easier to come across rarer metals and jewels here than back home, but you were still just as in shock when you realized what it was made of. You remember sobbing from joy when you received it, as you never held something so expensive and meaningful in your entire life.

The necklace was made of metal sourced from Death Mountain but you had no clue what the gem in the triangle shaped cavity was. It looked like emerald, but the boys said it wasn’t that, and that they won't tell you. They were so petty at times.

You were startled out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

“I brought you some fresh clothes, Dove.” Ah Sky, honestly you were a little relieved it wasn’t Legend or Wars, knowing they’d say something snarky or suggestive.

“Come in Sky.”

You could hear the cogs turning in his head for a moment before he entered, red in the face. You almost laughed at what you were seeing.

Sky turned his head away from you and covered his eyes, just to spare you some dignity.

“I-uh gave you one of my older shirts since you don’t have any other clean ones and its thicker, so it’ll help keep you warm and it has-”

“Sky, for the love of god you’re making this more awkward than it has to be. You’re sweet for being so thoughtful, but we’re both adults Pumpkin.” you mused, chuckling a bit.

Sky finally made eye contact with you, but still avoided your eyes for the most part.

“Right. Um, well, I’ll just leave these on the chair then.”

Sky then stared at you. Not in a creepy way, just in admiration and awe. Luckily, the rest of your body was hidden under the bubbles of the soap in the water, so its not like he could see anything anyway.

He then walked up to you and sat down outside of the tub, still gazing at you.

“I was so worried about you earlier, Songbird. Are you alright now?” he asked, worry crossing his face.

You sighed. Ever the most thoughtful. Bringing your hands from under the water, you cup his cheeks looking right into his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much about me, Sky. I’m fine now. Twilight calmed me down a bit, but you know how shocking such information can be. I just need a bit to process, y’know? I’ll be fine though.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes. He just kept looking at you. You swear he looked at your lips a few times. Biting his lip, he asked “Can I wash your hair for you? No offense at all, I just wanted to offer because you never know when the next time we’ll get to be clean again.”

You nodded with a smile, sitting back against the porcelain tub, handing Sky the glass bottle of soap. As soon as he lathered his hands, he started massaging your scalp, a feeling you’ve missed so much.

“Fuck, Sky, that feels so good.” you said, not realizing the tone or implication you said it in.

Sky’s breath hitched, but you didn’t catch it, too busy on the sensations on your scalp.

“Yeah?” he whispered, looking at your bare shoulders that were littered with scars from your journey with them, wishing he could wash them away. He felt his ears get hot from your soft sounds, happy that you felt so comfortable and wishing you’d make those sounds more often domestic with him.

Suddenly the movement stops. Opening your eyes, you turn your head over your shoulder, almost jumping at how close his face is. Your gaze flickered to his lips, almost as if it was instinct.

“Sky… I-” “I’ll let you finish up.” And with that, he left, softly shutting the door behind him.

What the HELL is he thinking???

Sky gripped his hair, walking down the hallway, panting slightly.

He was so… close to you. He could smell the soap on your skin. He could see the different colors in your eyes. He felt strange. He knew he liked you… and not just as companions or friends… he wanted more. He felt happier, lighter since you came around. He genuinely laughed for the first time in ages.

It seemed like there was a spark of sorts between the two of you, but he didn’t want to assume or jump into anything… yet, at least. He needed a minute to calm down.

#yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe au #link x reader

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ilguna · 5 months

Text

☼ cruel summer pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick tricked you into playing the damsel role, something the Capitol will be referencing for the rest of your life. still, you're not sure if you can forgive him for being so cruel to you in the first place.

warnings; swearing, ehh gore, someone loses an eyeball, weapon use, death.

wc; 2.2k

part one

If you make it out of this arena alive, you might consider taking back all the nasty things you called Finnick that night on the balcony. In the heat of the moment, you confessed the feelings that you’ve had for him for a while, and in return, he told you that this had been his plan all along—to push you to your breaking point.

Every ounce of composure you had left was gone at that moment. All the emotions that you’d bottled for the last year shattered. You were upset, because this vulnerable moment had yet again, been turned into a joke for Finnick’s amusement.

At least, that’s what you thought.

When you finally stopped screaming at him, which was right around the time the escort and Mags had come to check to make sure that everything was okay, he tried to explain his reasoning. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say, so you left to go to your room, which brought the conversation inside.

“You need to listen to me, (Y/n).” Finnick had told you, grabbing your arm to slow you down. “I know you’re mad—”

“Mad?” You repeated, your ladylike appearance was fading, not being able to hold it for the escort. Who was standing in the living room beside the stylists and Mags, watching the argument unfold. “Mad doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, Finnick! This is one big joke to you! I’m going to die, and it’s going to be your fault!”

You made a beeline for your room, trying to lock the door behind you, but they won’t shut if there’s something in the way. It was Finnick, and he had himself firmly planted there, refusing to move.

“You know I would never get you killed.” He tried to tell you.

You scoffed, “Do I, Finnick? I wouldn’t have put it past you.”

“You can’t place all the blame on me, you’re supposed to be the smart one. I was waiting for you to figure out I was messing with you the entire time but you trusted my judgement. I hope you won’t be this naive in the Games.”

“Get out of my room.”

“I wanted you to look like a ditz, to give you a better chance at winning.”

“You’ve got a really backwards way of thinking.”

“It’s worked for me in the past, so I figured that it’d help you, too.” His patience was unwavering. “I wanted the Capitol and the tributes to overlook you, and they are. It’s a blessing. You’re going to be invisible in the arena—it worked out for me, so it’ll work for you.”

You stared at him, still angry, gripping the white trim of the doorway. “And you didn’t think to let me in on this?”

“You would’ve slipped. It’s hard to genuinely act clueless.” He shakes his head. “I had to do it, (Y/n), or else the Capitol would’ve had their eye on you the whole time. This was the only way.”

“I have no skills.” You seethed through your teeth.

“That’s not true. You know how to use a spear and hunt for food. You just need to put that together, and you’ll be able to keep yourself alive. You don’t even have to kill unless you absolutely have to.” He raised his eyebrows. “Like I said, you’re smart, (Y/n). You’ve got this.”

“Is this why you stopped being friends with me? Back home?”

Finnick shook his head. “I stopped being around you after my Games because I felt like we couldn’t connect anymore. I was somewhere else and you didn’t understand.”

“So you told all my secrets? You let them start rumors about me?”

He looked at the ground, quiet. “I never should have told them those things.”

“It’s too late to feel sorry for yourself.” You told him. “Or fix any of this. You better hope that you’re right about this strategy, or my blood will be on your hands.”

Finnick nodded, backing out of the door, satisfied that he’d gotten the chance to properly speak to you. “Goodnight.”

You punched the button on the wall.

If Finnick’s plan doesn’t work out, it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead anyway. Still, you’ll spend every last breath cursing his name and actions, for getting you in this position.

As much as you hate to say it, you have to admit that his plan has worked without a single hiccup. He was right, down to the very last word. You don’t think that you crossed any of the other tributes’ minds, much less the very much, now-dead Careers.

It was easy, too easy to survive this far. There were several times you were sure that you’d get caught sneaking in and out of the Cornucopia for supplies. Or when you’d accidentally pass by an active camp, where you were merely just a few feet away from the deadliest tributes in the arena.

You never got caught though, you flew under the radar, and it’s brought you here.

The male tribute from District Eight stands a few feet away from you, knife in his hand. You can’t seem to remember his name, but you know that he’s older than you, on the cusp of being free of the Hunger Games forever. You won’t be able to place your finger on his age exactly, but if you had to guess, it’d be eighteen.

He’s panting heavily, a result of chasing you for two miles through palm trees and sand. You would’ve brought him through the river, too, if the Gamemakers hadn’t dried it up yesterday. Now all it acts as is a barren trench. He’d tried to corner you into going inside, but you knew better. If you’d fallen in, you would’ve died down there.

You didn’t survive this entire time just to be killed from doing something stupid.

“Come here, little girl.” He breathes, voice deep. He takes the first step toward you, your legs twitch, wanting to run. You don’t move. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

You tilt your head at him.

In the past two and a half weeks you’ve been in here, you don’t think you’ve said a single word. A point you’ve been trying to make since you made a fool of yourself on stage with Caesar Flickerman. Which has been a little difficult to keep up, because you have a habit of working out your problems aloud.

Your lips are sealed, as far as you’re concerned. And they’ll stay that way, until you’re announced as the victor.

He’s making his way at you at a steady pace. The closer he gets, the more you’re able to see the deranged look in his eye. It makes you worry, but your focus lies with the knife that he’s white-knuckling. Your idea of getting it out of his hand somehow is becoming a bad one.

You really have no choice. The Cornucopia is miles away. The only weapon you had is gone, thrown into the trench. What you have now is your backpack, which has close to nothing inside of it. Just the sleeping bag you stole, a half-empty bottle of water, and a coiled wire.

“Surprised you lasted this long.” He mutters, “What did you score, again? A three?”

Four. Which might have been done out of irony, because that’s where you’re from. Or pity, because the Gamemakers saw that you were making an effort to learn. With Finnick’s initial instructions to fail everything you touched, you had a hard time figuring out the right way to do things.

You weren’t allowed to succeed.

“What’s the matter?” He teases.

He’s gotten close enough to lunge at you, swiping with the knife. He cuts you across your upper left arm, leaving a stinging trail behind. In turn, you swing your fist at his jaw, an ache forms in your knuckles, pain blossoming under the skin.

You’ve never had to punch anyone before.

In the brief time you have, you try to seize the knife from his hand, but he’s already thought of that, lifting it up, out of your reach. As he prepares to stab downward, you wiggle out of the backpack, bringing it in front of you to act as a shield.

Sure enough, it pierces through the cloth, he draws it out. You lower the bag, backing up, shaking your head at him. You’re not going to be able to fight, and it’s not because you don’t want to, it’s because you’re not capable. You can punch and kick him all you want, but he’s going to bounce back.

You need a weapon, so you rip the backpack open, pulling out the bottle of water that's beginning to leak from being stabbed. You throw it at him, watching as he dodges it, breathing out a laugh. It wasn’t your goal to hit him, just slow him down another step.

Your hand dives back in, rooting around for the wire, which lays at the very bottom, practically untouched since you discovered it. Right as you go to pull it out, he swings at you again. You’re barely able to lift the bag in time, listening to it tear from the sharp blade.

Without thinking it through entirely, you retaliate, aiming for his legs. The wire slices into skin, he jumps away from you. One look at the damage you’ve caused, and you forget about defending yourself with the backpack. You have a ranged weapon.

For once, you take a step forward, pursuing him. Each time he slashes, you dodge and attack. He doesn’t miss every time, sometimes catching your shirt or your skin. Either way, the advantage changes.

You hurl the backpack at him, still hanging onto a strap, watching as his focus turns to catching it before it knocks into him. With the other hand, you bring down the wire, coming into contact with his face. He lets out a hiss, right as you whip it forward again.

His sudden scream startles you, making you jump. You watch as he drops the knife in his hand, forgetting about it. His hands are trembling when he reaches to touch his face, his left eye, where blood is gushing out like a waterfall.

You don’t stare for long, jerking forward, falling into the grass to grab the knife before he realizes his mistake. His eye is squeezed shut, letting out pained sobs. You get back to your feet, arm drawing back, before you hammer the knife into his chest, right over where his heart is.

His eye and mouth pop open at the same time, hands falling from his face to his chest, where he’s just able to secure his fingers around the knife. Then, his eyes roll back, taking his body with him.

A cannon blasts.

You shuffle forward a step, looking down at him, and then up at the sky.

That’s it, right? That’s all you had to do? There’s no one left in the arena?

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-sixth Hunger Games, District Four’s very own (Y/n) (L/n)!” Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms over the clearing, answering your questions.

You laugh, backing away from the gruesome scene you caused. “How’s that for a score of four?”

—

The familiar voices down the hallway grow louder with each step you take. They placed you in the room as far away as possible, to make you work to see your people again. In any other instance, you’re sure you’d be on some degree of irritation, but you’re so relieved to be here, and alive that it doesn’t seem right to be mad.

You survived the Hunger Games, there’s nothing in Panem that can touch you now.

Your eyes are searching for them before you’ve even rounded the corner. Your stylist, your escort and Finnick are standing together, talking quietly.

“Finnick.” His name leaves your mouth in a gasp, causing him to turn. Your feet move without permission, body gravitating to him. Finnick gives you a look—the look he used to give you back home when he thought you were being dramatic.

He throws his arms open at the last second, your body coming into hard contact with his, making him stumble back. He’s got you securely, though. Your arms lock around his back, squeezing him tightly. You can feel his cheek press against your ear.

“Welcome back.” He says.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment, because you’ve missed being his friend. If there’s one good thing that will come of this, it’ll be getting him back. But it won’t happen before he shows you that he’s sorry.

When you pull away from the hug, his eyes flicker to yours, watching you. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But it’s a start, isn’t it?”

You suck in your lips for a moment, nodding. “We’ll figure it out when we get home. For now, I just want to get out of here.” You tell him, before turning to the escort and the stylist, who are both smiling at you. You take in a breath, trying to reciprocate, “So, what’s next?”

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schelamski · 5 months

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Laser tagging with your boyfriend

Prompt: Take me laser tagging and then push me into a corner and kiss me.

-Suna, Kuroo, Tsukishima, osamu, matsukawa, yaku, kunimi

The only reason you agreed to go and play some laser tagging with him and his friends was because those past few weeks you have seen very little of your boyfriend. You also hoped to be paired with your boyfriend in a team, so he might protect you from the others which would be a cute situation that was playing in your head when you agreed to come along. Not that you needed protection, you just weren’t that into all those guns and protection vests.

Unfortunately, you and your boyfriend were in opposite teams. So much on spending some time together. Your mood dropped but you were ready to take revenge on him and his teammates. Tiptoeing through the artificial arena in hope of reaching a safer spot without being noticed you missed the tall person lurking in the shadows. Pressed with your back to the wall you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second to calm down your fast beating heart. Suddenly you felt something pressed against your vest on your chest. Eyes snapping open, you looked in the eyes of your boyfriend. On his face was a teasing smile plastered, in all your aggravation you tried to scream for your teammates to notice. However, years of playing volleyball had sharpened his reflexes to unbeatable speed, so before even the smallest sound could leave your mouth, his hand was pressed on your mouth.

His eyes gleamed in the dark, you could clearly tell he was enjoying himself. “If I were in your position I´d keep my bratty mouth shut now” he whispered. Eyes fixated on his lips you nodded slightly. Slowly the hand was lifted from your mouth. It took you two staring at each other for a few seconds before his lips met yours and his one hand grabbed your neck, while his other hand pressed you against the wall behind you, still holding the gun but not pointed at you. Aware of this situation, you enjoyed the kiss a few seconds longer before suddenly pulling away and pointing your own gun at his chest. The realization dawned upon him, in all his teasing he forgot to take your gun away.

Without a second thought you pulled the trigger and excluded your boyfriend from further action. Now it was your time to grin at him in victory. “Oh, come on, how can you be so cruel and weaponize my affection for you? You´re so vicious!” He whispered while playing hurt. “And here I thought that’s one of the reasons you love me” you replied, shrugging with your shoulders before giving him a small peck on the lips. That’s when you felt the impact of a gun on your back. “You‘re out!” pointed his teammate out. With raising a brow, you looked your boyfriend in the eyes “Nice distraction but you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. That was truly vicious, I even felt sorry for you!” Without a beat he took your Hand in his and said “And here I thought that’s one of the reasons you love me.” Taking you to the exit of the arena, he smiled “At least we have some time together now”. It was true, you liked being kept on your toes with him and he seemed to enjoy it too.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #suna rintarou #suna x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #miya osamu #osamu x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #yaku morisuke #yaku morisuke x reader #kunimi akira #kunimi akira x reader

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d34dlysinner · 5 months

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Hi ! I’ve been following your blog for a few weeks and I have to say that between the few blogs here in tumblr that write about whb, this is my favorite !

I hope you’re still taking requests, and if you are, I would like to ask for something with the kings + Sitri, Amon and Foras ( the last two are optional since I understand that we don’t know much about them yet and it might be hard )

It would be something like what would happen if fem!MC (or any pronouns, whatever you feel most comfortable with ) played a prank on them there she makes them believe that she is breaking up with them and they actually believe it, like, how would they react at their s/o “breaking up” with them and their reaction when she tells them it was a prank.

It would be amazing if it was angst and fluff (smut if you want to ;) ) at the end.

I hope my ask wasn’t too long, I apologize if it was :(

As someone from a past request said, thank you so much for writing for whb !

I hope you have an amazing day 🤍

Your words literally made me AAAAAAA

Thanks for the kind words 😭

HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

You wanted to test his patience in a way.

"I think we should break up...", you said as you tried to look up at him with the most serious expression pasted on your face.

You definitely wanted to see if he would care if you did this. At the same time you were scared for his reaction as you felt your heart speed up.

Satan was silent for a second. He then laughed. You stood there in shock as you watched him laugh.

"You're lying.", he says somewhat calmly. It was weird for him to be calm which made you nervous in a way.

"You're lying, right? Last week you were crying about how you didn't want anyone else do the things I do to you.", he said casually. Some people wouldn't understand what he meant, but you fully understood what he was talking about. In a way you felt embarrassed and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"See... your face still turns red for me. Are you sure you want to break up?", he says watching af how you couldn't form an answer. "I'll take your silence as a no", he says with a smile before walking away.

Sitri was silent and only stared at you. You almost saw tears well up in his eyes.

"Solomon... you're leaving again?", he says as he became silent after that. "Did anyone catch your eye?... Did I do something wrong?", he asked.

It felt as if someone was putting pressure on your lungs and heart as you watched him panic and ask if he was wrong. You wanted to apologise and tell him that it isn't true, but before you could say something you saw him smile afterwards.

"That was a cruel 'joke', Solomon. Hearing how your heart changes when seeing me cry means that you aren't over me yet... But I'll do my best in making you want me more from now on.", he says.

Mammon watched you with surprise and disappointment. "... You don't want me anymore?... I still want you...", he says as he thinks that someone else caught your eye.

"I don't understand what I did wrong...", he says as he approached you. "If someone else interests you then I'll do my best again to make you see that you'd want me.", he says confidently. He had you once and will make sure that he'll have you at his side again for a second time.

When you told him it was a joke he didn't have much to say except: "... A joke?... Hmmm... I dont understand how this is a joke, but I'll still make you see that it's me who you'll want."

Leviathan had a displeased look on his face.

"Why?", he asked, sterness and anger present in his voice.

"If we're going to break up tell me at least why. Did someone else catch your eye?...", he asked as he walked towards you. He was towering over you as you could sense absolute jealousy around him.

"If you're going to break up to me you should give a reasoning to why you'd do that?", he asked yet again.

You didn't feel threatened, but you also didn't want the situation to escalate so you told him it was a joke. He still wasn't pleased.

"That's not a funny joke.", he says with a frown still present on his face. You didn't know what to do to make him feel good again.

"You should try and apologise in a way. I already have an idea.", he says as a smile was now gracing his face.

"You should be prepared.", he said as he left you. You were worried for what he had in mind.

Foras stopped with what he was doing as be looked back at you with shock.

"I did something didn't I?", he asked as he tried to think of reasons to why you'd like to break up.

"Or... did Sir, His Majesty Leviathan caught your eye?", he asked. He would feel conflicted if that were the case. He did love you, but he's also loyal to his king and if you were truly happy with his king he doesn't have any choice but to let you go.

"Is... Is that it? You fell for the king?", he asked again.

You felt like you had to stop the act before his thoughts would eat him up.

"It's a joke... Foras.", you said as you saw him relax.

He sighed with his eyes closed. Pinching the bridge of his nose while thinking about what you did. "That... wasn't funny MC", he said as he now looked at you. He wasn't amused, but he could atleast relax a little now. You should apologise to him again later.

Beelzebub looked at you stunned before his expression became relaxed again.

"You're lying.", he said as he had a smile on his face.

"If you wanted to break up or not keep this relationship you wouldn't even do this much effort into searching me.", he said as he kissed the top of your head.

"Nice try, but next time try saying it via text. Maybe that would make it more believable.", he says as he walked towards a direction, holding your hand and dragging you with him.

"But since you lied to me. You should be punished, no?", he said as he gave you a cocky grin.

Amon was stunned for a second before looking disappointed. The usually sleepy man looked as if he was a lost puppy when he heard your words.

"Oh...", was what he said as reaction to your words. He thought about it for a while and then asked: "... So... does this mean we can't cuddle anymore... or that we can't eat together?", he asked. It made you feel guilty for doing this as a joke. What made it even worse was what he said afterwards: "... You're leaving me too?"

You stopped the act after that and apologised instantly. He was silent and seemed unamused as usual.

"... I'll... buy us food. And then we can cuddle okay?", you said which seemed to make the demon's mood better.

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb asks #whb satan #whb beel #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb sitri #whb foras #whb amon

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