#HOW DARE U STAND WHERE SHE STOOD

[shackld]

ptn copyrighted the chief name im so sorry other gachas arent allowed to use it

[kissingagrumpygiant]

Seeing an increase in golem YA books you will literally never be her (the golem and the jinni)

[jaylalolz]

hi! can i request more jealous/possessive nicholas? perhaps with some making up?🥹

ty!!!

❛ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, Nicholas and his girlfriend get into a heated argument after he ignores her all night while out with friends, leading her to turn off her location and go out.

A/N, thanks for requesting!! hope u like it

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas knew he had messed up the second he walked through the door. His phone had been blowing up with unread messages, but he had ignored them—too caught up in the chaos of the night with his friends. She was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like she had been waiting for this confrontation all night.

“You couldn’t send one text?” she snapped as soon as he stepped inside, her voice sharp. “Not one?”

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I told you I was going out with the guys. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you disappeared! You didn’t answer my calls, didn’t respond to any of my texts. Do you know how that looks? Like you couldn’t care less.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Nicholas could feel his own frustration rising.

“I was just out having a good time. Why are you blowing this up into something bigger than it is?”

“Because you don’t get it!” She stood up, her voice getting louder. “You always do this. You vanish with your friends and act like I don’t exist for the whole night. It’s like I’m not even on your radar when you’re with them.”

Nicholas clenched his fists, feeling cornered. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… didn’t think it was that big of a deal to be off my phone for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Nicholas, it was the entire night! I was worried about you!”

She turned away, grabbing her bag and phone from the counter. Nicholas could see her fingers tapping at her screen, and his stomach twisted when he realized what she was doing.

“Seriously?” he asked, watching as she turned off her location. “You’re pulling this again?”

“If you can’t bother to text me back, then you don’t get to know where I am,” she said coolly, her eyes daring him to say something. Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving him standing there, frustrated and angry.

Hours passed, and Nicholas was left stewing, replaying the argument over and over. She had every right to be pissed, but the way she just shut him out like that, like he didn’t matter… it made his blood boil. He picked up his phone to check if she’d cooled off yet, but instead, he saw it—a new Instagram story.

She was at the club. Smiling. Laughing. And there, standing next to her, was some guy.

Nicholas’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew where she was. He wasn’t about to sit there while some random guy made her laugh like nothing had happened.

When he got to the club, it didn’t take long to spot her. She was leaning against the bar, talking to the same guy from her story. Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. She was doing this on purpose. She knew he’d see it, knew it would set him off.

Without a second thought, Nicholas pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on her. He reached her in a few quick strides, his hand gripping her arm, pulling her away from the guy before either of them knew what was happening.

“Nick, what the hell?” she protested, but he didn’t stop. He dragged her through the crowd, ignoring her complaints until they were outside in the humid night air. He didn’t let go until they reached his car, opening the passenger door with more force than necessary.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated, eyes flashing with defiance, but she got into the car, slamming the door behind her. Nicholas got in on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel to calm the storm inside him before turning to face her.

“You think that was funny?” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Turning off your location and posting that story, letting me see you with him?”

She glared at him, her arms crossed. “Maybe now you know how it feels when you disappear on me for a whole night.”

“That’s what this is about? Payback?” His voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I was out with my friends, but you—what? You run off to the club, posting stories, talking to random guys just to piss me off?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Nicholas,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But maybe I wanted you to notice. Maybe I wanted you to feel what I felt when you ignored me all night.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my attention,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.”

“Maybe if you actually paid attention to me, I wouldn’t have to find someone else to talk to.”

Nicholas’s temper flared, and without thinking, he reached out, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not rough. “You don’t need anyone else,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “I don’t want you talking to anyone but me.”

Her breath hitched, their faces inches apart now, the tension between them thick and charged. She tried to stay angry, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, the raw intensity in his eyes, that made her pulse quicken.

“You don’t get to ignore me and then act like you own me,” she said, her voice faltering slightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“I do own you,” Nicholas growled, his hand still gripping her waist. “You’re mine.”

For a moment, the air between them was heavy with everything they hadn’t said. The anger, the frustration, the possessiveness—it all tangled together in the space between their heated breaths.

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Nicholas’s lips crashed against hers, silencing whatever protest was about to leave her mouth. She resisted for half a second, but then she gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same fire.

The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by all the emotions they had been keeping bottled up. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, they were both breathing hard, the anger between them replaced by something rawer, something deeper.

“I hate it when you shut me out,” Nicholas murmured, his voice softer now, though still laced with possessiveness. “I hate it when you go to someone else.”

“I only do it because I’m scared you don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw, softer than before.

“I care,” he said firmly. “More than you know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they held each other. Eventually, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” she admitted softly.

Nicholas pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

They stayed like that for a while, their earlier argument forgotten, replaced by the certainty that, no matter how much they fought, they always found their way back to each other.

[betterthanyalls]

Can u do a Reader x epic various where y/n is apart of Ody's crew and during the end of thunder bringer Zeus kidnaps y/n and takes them to Olympus instead of letting them either drown or get washed up onto Calypso's island?🥰🥰🤩🤩 It'd be cool if during God games or something Athena finds out what Zeus did and now instead of the games being just to free Ody from Calypso's island, it's ALSO about freeing y/n from Olympus and reuniting them with Odysseus?? Sorry if this doesn't make sense or if it's too much work lol, just write this however you want if you even wanna write it at all teehee ^^"

blinks i think i went through 37 different emotions while writing this, most of them were bad. Ok so, I'm not sure how good this is but please don't kill me😇 TW: Zeus gives reader Ganymede treatment

Part 2

Masterlist

Stolen Soldier

Various (kind of) x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Angst

Words: 1.6K

Published: 11-4-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thunder roared, winds whipped, and waves rocked the lone ship back and forth. Standing on the bow of the ship was a figure of divine power and presence, waiting with a wicked grin. “Choose,” the king of the gods demanded harshly.

“Choose?” Odysseus muttered, looking at Zeus in fear. “Someone’s got to die today, and you have got the final say. You,” he pointed to Odysseus before gesturing to the rest of the crew, “or your crew.”

The captain looked to his crew, locking eyes with Y/n—his best friend, his rock, his shelter. He took a shaky breath, looking back to Zeus in desperation.

“Please don’t make me do this; don’t make me do this,” Odysseus begged. His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Looking back at his crew, he saw a range of emotions: anger, hurt, terror, grief, and more. Taking a daring glance at his closest friend, the soldier felt his heart shatter. Holding back tears, Y/n gave him a hesitant nod to show it was ok.

Then, a new voice tore his gaze away from his crew. Looking out over the sea and to the clouds, a figure of familiarity seemed to take place within the clouds. Illusion or not, that was his wife.

Penelope. Odysseus took staggering steps across the shaking boat and to the edge. Both of his hands latched to the wooden railing, his eyes never moving from the clouded position of his partner. Memories flooded his judgment, from his crew and Y/n, to his family waiting for him. “Captain?” A voice of uncertainty spoke up. Eurylochus. The said captain couldn’t even dare face his right-hand man as the sky darkened and Penelope faded back to the clouds.

“I have to see her," Odysseus whispered, tears brimming in his eyes as he finally looked back at his crew. The general saw all of the hurt and betrayal in his men’s expressions. The fear hurt the most to see. “But we’ll die,” Eurylochus pleaded. Odysseus knew he would regret this option until his final breath. Once he got home, how would he tell Ctimene he was the cause of her husband's death? “I know,” Odysseus’ voice broke, a few stray droplets not belonging to the storm washed down his cheeks. 

At the end of those words, the thunder roared, and Zeus grinned evilly. Zeus rose above the clouds, lightning moving to gather in his raised hand.

“Thunder, bring her through the wringer.” The crew drew their weapons in defense, charging towards Odysseus with murderous intent. Y/n stood away from the fight, not daring to lift any sort of weapon against her best friend.

“Show her I'm the judgment call. The one who makes her kingdom fall. Lightning, wield her, use and yield her.” 

As the crew closed in on their captain, the air started to become tense and electrified. Y/n took a step back from the chaos, looking up to see a phenomenon of heavenly power. “Show her what she can’t conceal; her true nature will be revealed.”

A bright light enclosed the surrounding sky, ripping down to the center of the ship. In an instant, a deafening crack sounded, and all light faded to black. Y/n felt like her soul was being ripped apart as she opened her mouth to scream her pain, but no noise came out. Then she felt a drop, only to be brought into a suffocating embrace of cold. Finally, her mind cut out. ~~~~~ Y/n felt different. She didn’t sense the shivering water anymore, but instead a subtle warmth. It took a few minutes, but eventually she managed to peek open her eyes. Y/n wasn’t on a ship in the middle of the sea with the night sky above anymore, but instead there was a grand painting on the ceiling of white marble overhead. Looking around slowly, the young woman saw an unfamiliar scene.

A lavish bedroom surrounded her, furnishings a king could only dream of sitting like average decor in each nook and cranny. Moving her hands, Y/n felt the silk sheets of a glorious bed below her. Ivory blankets fell from her body as she slowly rose up from her position. Placing her feet on the cold marble flooring, the mortal stepped through the room. It wasn’t long before she found herself in front of a floor-length mirror. 

White and gold fabric draped down on her body—a dress fit for a goddess of divine origin. Confusion clouded her eyes as she scanned her new attire. That puzzlement was quickly replaced with fear as two wooden doors opened, revealing an even more confusing sight.

A tall man wearing a white toga entered the room without a care of knocking. Striding to where Y/n stood, she instinctively took steps back from him. “My dear, why do you back away?” The smile on his face was unnerving, especially with the nickname. Y/n recognized that voice immediately, terror coursing through her veins as her lips parted to let out a gasp.

“Zeus.”

The god in question continued to walk towards her with that two-faced smile until he backed the mortal into a wall. “Mmm, you’re as smart as you are beautiful,” he took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Y/n shuddered in disgust and fear; her heart raced faster than a chariot racer's steeds. She wanted to push him away, but her body felt locked in place. Y/n tried to speak, but her lips were closed tightly like a stone wall. “Hm, dear, I think I know a dress that’d fit your body much better. Let me help.”

~~~~~

Within only the second morning of the Heavenly Palace, Y/n had the overwhelming urge to jump off. But she wouldn’t be allowed such a pleasure with the god at her side. Zeus had taken it upon himself to guide the mortal on a tour through Olympus, which only influenced her thoughts. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Zeus every second. Not out of intrigue or anything of that sort, but of apprehension. Each movement of his that was near her direction, the mortal would tense up and pause everything. Soon enough, the king of Olypmus noticed and grinned with faux comfort. “Dear, you seem tense. Allow me to ease you.” ~~~~~ Day after day. Weeks after week. Zeus never let Y/n leave his side, threatening any god or goddess who even dared to give her a sympathetic glance. The woman was a shell of who she once was. Her eyes sunk and her soul depleted; she felt her life draining by the day. Not in mortality-wise, no Zeus would never let her perish. But in consideration of her spirit.

Each night she would cry until no more salt would leave, leaving only choking sobs. Each night she was infiltrated by the king of Olympus. Y/n would stare at herself in the mirror, vomit building in her throat as her eyes trailed down to every mark on her body. No spot was untouched. No matter how hard she tried, Y/n could never wash off the sin. The mortal would scrub her skin until she was raw and bleeding, but the phantom touches remained.

Each night she missed her home and friends more and more. Where was Odysseus now? Did he forget all about her when he returned to Ithaca? What about Penelope? Would she miss her best friend? 

Seven years. Seven years of misery, force, and agony. Seven years of physical and mental torture she endured to no fault.

But soon, like all stories, her savior arrived. ~~~~~

Athena stood in front of her father, spear and shield in hand, while staring into the king’s eyes murderously.

“I’ve played your game and won. Release them,” the goddess of wisdom demanded, shifting her gaze to where Y/n stood anxiously beside Zeus’ throne. The mortal had gone through so much, and Athena was determined to save her. 

Zeus glowered down at his daughter, rage covering his expression. “You dare to defy me? To make me feel shame?” He growled, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles turned a bright alabaster. “No one beats me; no one wins my game!”

The lightning god stood up threateningly, his hands glowing a static yellow. “Thunder, bring her through the wringer!” The air was caught in Y/n’s throat at the familiar words, her eyes wide in horror. Zeus rose up, the electricity in his hands growing as the woman noticed the alarmed looks on the other god’s expressions. “Show her I’m the judgment call, the one who makes her kingdom FALL!” With a vociferous burst, he threw the lightning at his daughter, forcing her back onto the floor. Once the light faded, everyone looked to see the warrior lying face down, her body still as ice. “Is she dead?” the voice of her brother Ares asked hesitantly. Y/n thought back to every moment her and Odysseus had been with Athena. They were an unstoppable force together. Now though, Y/n only wanted to rush to the goddess side.  Before anyone could do anything, Athena struggled to her feet, holding her aegis in defense while pointing the spear tip to her father.

Zeus’ look of utter shock soon turned to rage at her defiance. In response, he sent a barrage of bolts towards his favorite child. Against this attack, the war patroness held her shield strong and pushed against the force, making her way to her father.

Finally, at the feet of the king, she grabbed his arm and fell to her knees.

“Let them go, please. Let them go.” Her plea was finished as the goddess collapsed, her breath slowing to a stop.

[formulaonecrumbs]

hello again :) how about an angst where oscar and reader are high school sweethearts, but the reader starts to notice that fame is beginning to get to oscar’s head and during yet another one of their arguments, he ends up implying that the reader is a gold digger who’s only with him for the money and fame. this hurts her deeply, especially because she’s been by his side long before he even had a shot at making it to formula 1.

how fucking dare you?

Oscar Piastri x high-school sweetheart!reader

summary: oscar lets fame get to his head and accuses reader of being with him for the wrong reasons. it breaks everything.

warnings: explosive argument, accusations, swearing, heartbreak, breakup, angst with no comfort, oscar being a dick.

A/N: not proof read SORRY. i made it as angsty as possible. if u wanted a happy ending for this WHOOPS. this is what u get it 🤷‍♀️ enjooyyy!!!

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

they weren’t always like this.

once upon a time, it was easy. gentle. warm. she was the girl sitting cross-legged in the garage, watching him tighten bolts on his kart. the girl who brought him slushies after races and kissed the grease off his cheek. the girl who stayed up late to quiz him on school stuff he’d missed because of training, who snuck out just to lie under the stars with him and listen to him dream.

he used to say things like “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

now he barely looked her in the eye.

everything had changed. slowly at first. one shift at a time, so quiet she almost didn’t notice. the silence between texts getting longer. the way his smile felt more like a photo than a feeling. the way she had to ask to see him, like she was some fan trying to schedule in a moment.

but it all built up. and now it was spilling over.

“you’ve been so fucking distant, oscar,” she snapped, standing in the middle of his too-clean apartment, her voice already shaking. “i don’t even recognize you anymore.”

he barely glanced up from where he stood near the kitchen island, arms crossed. “maybe that’s because you only liked me when i was failing.”

she blinked. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he said, sharper now, “that maybe you just liked feeling needed. liked being the one who got to play the part of ‘the supportive girlfriend.’ maybe it made you feel important.”

her heart cracked right down the middle.

“don’t fucking do that,” she said, her voice cracking. “don’t act like i was never there for the real you. i’ve only ever wanted you to win.”

he scoffed. “funny. doesn’t feel like that lately. feels like all you do is complain.”

she took a step back, hands curling into fists. “i complain because you treat me like a stranger, oscar. because i wait days for a reply. because you forget our calls and cancel our plans and talk to me like i’m a fucking burden.”

he didn’t answer. just looked away.

“say something,” she begged.

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he muttered.

“i want you to admit you’ve changed. that this has changed. that you don’t even try anymore.”

his jaw clenched. “you think this is easy for me? you think i’m just out here living the dream with no stress?”

“no,” she said quietly. “i think you’re out here forgetting who you were before it all. forgetting who stood by you when nobody else even knew your fucking name.”

and then he said it.

the words she’d never thought would come from his mouth.

“maybe you’re just here because of who i am now.”

the silence after was suffocating.

her chest felt like it had caved in.

“what?” she whispered.

he didn’t repeat it. but he didn’t take it back either.

“are you fucking serious?” her voice rose, cracked, broke. “you think i’m some gold-digging fame-chaser? me?”

“i don’t—”

“no. fuck you. don’t you dare backpedal now. don’t you dare twist everything we’ve ever had into that.”

she was crying now. cheeks flushed, hands trembling. “you really think i’ve stayed through all the lonely nights, the stress, the distance, the fucking silence, because i wanted money or attention? i’ve been in love with you since you were that nervous fifteen-year-old with calloused hands and a stupid crooked smile who thought he wasn’t good enough.”

he looked frozen. guilty. but still didn’t move.

“you don’t get to rewrite history like that,” she said, her voice quiet again. dead even. “you don’t get to make me the villain just because it’s easier than admitting you fucked up.”

she grabbed her bag, wiping at her cheeks as she moved toward the door.

“you don’t even see it, do you?” she whispered. “you’ve been gone for a long time, oscar. this version of you… i don’t love him. i don’t know him.”

she turned the doorknob.

“wait,” he said finally, voice small.

she paused.

“i didn’t mean it.”

she closed her eyes. “yeah, you did.”

then she left.

he didn’t follow.

he just stood there, surrounded by everything he thought he wanted.

and none of it felt like home.

THE END :>

[the-fiction-witch]

As Do I P3

Media - EPIC The Musical Saga Character - Prince Telemachus Of Ithaca Couple - Telemachus X Reader Reader - Princess Y/n of Zakynthos Rating - 15 (Mentions of tragedy and the gods being... Gods.) Word Count - 1559

Requests -

dorkyfangirl24 - I’m ✨waiting✨ for part 2 lol, I know u just wrote this and I don’t want pressure you but please tell me this will be a full story. However long u want it to be but like more parts at least?!!! This is so good! I’m waiting for the next part lol histtoricbittch - With all due respect, hoW DARE YOU TO LEVE IT LIKE THAT 😔💕 damn, can't wait for more

Tags - (If you would like to be tagged in this series do just let me know) @sunshinewhosketches

Art By Gigi

Writers Notes - *Spoiler* There is a small song in this, that I did write, I know it's not the best, but I just thought it was super cute! I tried to make it so it kinda... goes in time with songs in EPIC.

Telemachus wandered through the expansive palace gardens, his sandals softly crunching against the grass and scattered pebbles beneath his feet. He moved purposefully among the vibrant blooms, their colours a riot of reds, yellows, and purples, while the tall trees swayed gently in the warm breeze. Sweetly adorned statues of gods and goddesses stood watch, their stone features weathered but graceful, and he glanced at each in hopeful anticipation of finding Y/n. Each time, however, he was met with disappointment, the empty spaces around the statues only deepened his sense of defeat.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns, a knot of worry tightened in his chest. What if she hadn't come at all? Anger flared within him at the thought that her brother might have interfered, thwarting their long-awaited meeting. Just as frustration threatened to overwhelm him, a hauntingly beautiful siren's song drifted through the air, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The melody stirred something deep within his heart, instantly melting his rage and igniting a flicker of hope that perhaps, just perhaps…

Telemachus turned the corner, and a wave of emotion washed over him, causing his eyes to glisten with unshed tears.

Before him, at the very edge of the palace gardens, stood a stone gazebo, its elegantly carved roof resembling the delicate patterns of ancient lace. The six textured columns, each uniquely detailed, rose majestically from the ground. Surrounding the gazebo were dense clusters of lush red and white roses, their petals trembling gently in the warm breeze, releasing a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that filled the air. Above, the sky transformed into an enchanting canvas of red, gold, purple, and white, the colours swirling and mingling like a sunset painting that stretched all the way to the horizon, where it kissed the gentle waves of the ocean below.

In the center of this serene setting, sat Y/n, perched elegantly on a stone bench. She wore a floor-length white gown, its flowing fabric intricately embroidered with delicate purple floral patterns along the hems and softly cascading down her shoulders. A shimmering silver necklace hung low against her chest, adding a touch of elegance to her presence. Her curls cascaded around her, framing her face and creating a veil that shrouded her in mystery as she sang, her voice a haunting melody that echoed softly through the gardens,

“As the waves, Wash the shore, And the stone turns to sand, I’m left wondering and waiting where I stand. Hoping now for something more, Am I to bare all that I am, On the words of another, Life a cursed by an elder man, And now the mercy of my brother, How many times but I apologize, For words said before my time, How many tears must pass my eyes, For another’s crime, But you have made me this, And now I beg you mercy, So I may have a single peace. And hope that for love, I am worthy.”

“That… that was beautiful.” he cooed,

Y/n gasped as she turned to see him, “Forgive me, My prince. I- I didn’t hear you,”

“There is nothing to forgive, my darling,” He stepped closer closing the gap between them, “May I?”

She nodded softly, forcing away a smile,

Telemachus sat at her side careful not to sit on her dress offering her his hand,

Slowly she slid her hand into his own, and let their fingers intertwine, “I- I didn’t know you were listening,”

“Did you not want me to listen?” he asked, “I am afraid I can no more unhear such beauty than I can un-see you.”

“I suppose that is true,”

“You’re song… it was so… captivating and yet so tragic.” he beams, “I think I can guess, to what it ode’s too.” His spare hand rose to her face pushing away her hair to reveal her face, his chuckles tracing her cheekbone his eyes squarely on her own, “There you are, my darling,”

“Forgive me, you need not-” she began trying to move away,

“I told you before, all of you is beautiful to me, utterly and completely every inch that exists.” he reaffirmed, “Your eye is beautiful, for it is part of you.”

“Thank you, Telemachus,�� she blushed,

“You are very welcome,” he said, “I had a … pleasant meeting with your brother today,”

“How delightful for you,” she joked, “He did mention it to me,””

“Did he now?” He smirked a little, “I suppose he told you, you are forbidden from going anywhere near that damned prince of Ithaca,”

“Something to the sound, yes.” She nodded,

“And yet,” He shuffled closer, “You are here with me,”

She blushed harder, “Yes, I wanted to… I wanted to see you.”

“As did I,” He cooed,

“He doesn’t know I’m gone,”

“Humm quiet the sneaky, little princess.” he joked, “I am very lucky, you would choose to sneak out to see me.”

“As am I.” she cooed,

“But I must ask, whom do you apologize to in your song?”

“…it is complicated,”

“Forgive me, You need not tell me.”

“No. I should.” she nodded her eyes falling briefly to the grass, “You should know,”

“Know what, my darling?” He asked picking her chin up to meet his eyes once more,

“My father Pellantos… desired a large family.” She said sadly, “He built his palace with a hundred rooms and wanted them all to be filled with the songs and sounds of his kin. When my mother grew up with my brother, he built a whole fleet in his honour before he was even born. Said he would give him all the world, and make the gods bend the knee to my brother.”

“Explains his… audacity.” Telemachus jokes,

“I suppose so,” she chuckled,

“And you?”

“…When my mother grew pregnant with me, a priestess of Leto told them I would be their first daughter and that I would be beautiful beyond measure.”

“I believe them,” He smiled, “Truly I do,”

She blushed again before she turned her face to the water. “But…”

“But?”

“But, the day after I was born, my father presented me to our people… and declared to all who would listen.” she began, “He said, ‘My Daughter, Y/n Princess of Zakynthos, is the most beautiful creature ever to walk this earth, the sweetest child ever to grace this realm, wars will be fought for her words, kingdoms will burn for her gaze, for she is even more beautiful than Aphrodite.’”

Telemachus gasped,

“And as you can imagine… Aphrodite was not flattered.”

“I- I can’t imagine she was,” he nodded,

“She was enraged. A fire sparked in her temple. People on the island grew sick. And… meer nights later, while I lay sleeping in my crib, a dove came to the window. My father thought it a sign of peace from Aphrodite, but it was not.” She met Telemachus’ eye pulling back her hair to reveal all of her face and every inch of the scar that ran across it.

“The- Th- No.” he gasped shaking his head in fear,

She nodded, “The dove’s talons clawed my eye.”

“Y/n… My darling…”

“It would have blinded me or killed me. If my mother had not traded her life to the goddess to protect me." She explained, “My father blames me for taking away the only woman he will ever love, the people of the island say I cursed them all, and my brother… thinks I’m a monster.”

“Y/n,” Telemachus cooed, “You are not a monster, you are not a curse, you cannot be blamed in any way for the words of a joyful father at the birth of his first little girl, you were but a babe and that you carry any- ANYTHING! Of this, guilt, scar or trauma breaks me in two my darling.” He explained tearfully, “I swear this, on every god in this world. I will never, ever make you feel like anything that has happened, is your fault.” he said resting his forehead on hers,

“You mean it?” She cried,

“I do,” he nodded, “With all my heart, my darling.”

“Thank you,” she smiled nuzzling her head into his neck,

Without even hesitating for a mere second, Telemachus wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight and safe into his chest.

“I will keep you safe if you’ll let me keep you in my arms.”

She nodded silently,

“Say you’ll stay with me, and I will never have you cry a single tear again, My darling.” He told her, “I want you to stay with me, safe and sound, be my wife, have my children, be my queen, I never want you to leave me. I want you, I want you to stay here.”

“As do I.” she whispered, “I want to stay here with you,” she picked her head up to meet his eyes,

Telemachus began to cry small tears of joy as he batted her nose with his own, “Say you love me, and you never have to leave.”

She hesitated for a fleeting moment, a flutter of uncertainty dancing in her chest. The warmth of his presence enveloped her, casting aside her doubts. With a deep breath, she closed the distance between them. As their lips finally met, a soft and beautiful kiss that spoke magnitudes, ignited a spark that lingered in the air around them. Time seemed to pause as they shared that moment, surrounded by a world that faded into nothing.

[skzloverx]

How dare you. - Leeknow

(Leeknow x fem reader, angst, pretty suggestive, cursing, angry ahh aggressive Minho, small smut like literally right at the end, kissing, face grabbing, not proofread, idk what else.)

Summary: after Leeknow has been ignoring y/n she confides in another member for advice and comfort, which really riles him up and leads to him lashing out..

He’s been ignoring me for the past 3 days. I know he’s been busy but seriously, he hasn’t even looked in my direction. We aren’t dating but still, he should respect me right and at least smile? I can’t keep this to myself, I need to talk to someone.

I walk past the dance studio, and look in.. Hyunjin, Felix and Seungmin are all joking and talking, I’m not looking for them though.. there’s always one person I go to for support when it comes to Minho. Han Jisung.

“Where is he?” I mutter to myself, I almost walk past the door of the producing room but I pause and take a couple steps back.. I knock lightly at the door, crossing my fingers that Jisung is in here. Click. The door unlocks and opens but it’s not who I’m looking for.

Chan smiles widely as he sees me. “Hey! You good?” he tilts his head, leaning on the door frame. I don’t answer and just look into the room behind him, “looking for someone?” he raises an eyebrow and I nod.. “uh yeah sorry.. is Jisung in there?” I look at Chan..

“Yeah we’re just messing with some beats.. do you want to come in?” chan moves out of the doorway so I can see Han, he’s sat with his guitar in his lap.. laid back on the couch. “Yes please..” I walk past Chan, nodding politely as a thank you because he held the door.

Han immediately looks up as I walk in, “helloo” he says, dragging out the word.. he looks me up and down taking in my body language and expression, “trouble in paradise or did you just wanna see me?” He grins widely.

Chan closes the door and turns to us both, “Trouble in paradise?” He crosses his arms, shit! He doesn’t know about me and Minho.. “who’s the paradise?” He asks another question, looking directly at me as I sit on the couch next to Han.

I sigh deeply and swallow harshly, “It’s Minho.. don’t tell anyone though, we aren’t like anything official.. sorry.” I apologise, looking down at my hands as I fidget with my fingers. Chan laughs and says loudly “I knew it!” I look up quickly.

“Wha—“ I go to speak but he interrupts, “I didn’t know it was you but I knew Leeknow had someone, he’s been different recently.” Chan chuckles and sits down on the desk chair, scooting over to the couch.

“So what has he done?” Chan leans forward, way too interested in this tea. “She came to talk to me. Maybe she doesn’t want to tell you.” Han says with a snark. “No it’s okay I’ll talk to both of you..”

I lean back on the couch.. “he’s being an asshole.. straight up.” I say and it makes them both stifle a laugh at my language. “Sorry for cursing but it’s true, he’s ignoring me, acting like I don’t exist as if he wasn’t absolutely whipped for me last week.” I roll my eyes and Han laughs..

I won’t go into complete detail about everything we discussed otherwise it’ll be super long.. but to summarise, I explained how Minho has been acting, I showed them a mean text he had sent me and then we just spent the rest of the evening laughing, joking and gossiping.

Next day..

I sit in my dorm, brushing out my hair.. I feel a lot more confident to go confront Minho today after the conversation with Chan and Jisung last night. Or at least I did..

bang bang bang, someone is pounding down my door.. I scoff and stand up “One second!” I say as I make my way to the door, “Open it now.” Leeknows voice echoes from the other side.. my eyes widen and I quickly open it.

He doesn’t even look at me, pushing past me into my dorm.. “Good morning to you too..” I scoff as i close the door.. I turn around, he’s stood looking down at me. “what’s u—“ he grabs my cheeks with his hand to silence me.

“What the fuck?” He says, moving his face closer to me. “Don’t try and be normal right now yn.” He lets go of my face roughly, I rub my cheek. “Ow..” I mumble..

“Did you say something to Chan about this?” He points between us.. “What does ‘this’ mean? The fact you’ve been ignoring me for the past few days or are you talking about our relationship?” I cross my arms.

He breathes in deeply, his eyes are dark, he’s mad. “Why did you talk to him? Why were you in the studio with him?” He moves closer, an accusing tone in his voice. “It wasn’t just him..” I correct him, “okay so youre a slut?” He scoffs and moves further into my dorm.

“What?!” I laugh at the stupidity of his accusation. “I’m not even going to explain myself to you because you’re way too childish right now.” I walk to my vanity to resume getting ready for the day but before I can reach it he grabs my wrist.

“Explain it.. I’ll listen.” He says frustratedly, his grip tight but not painful. “I needed to talk to someone about you ignoring me and I usually confide in Jisung so I went looking for him, and I checked the studio and Bangchan opened the door so I just talked to both of them in there.”

I look up at Leeknow, he grinds his jaw.. “Also how do you know that I spoke to them?” I add on. He chuckles lightly, “Chan decided to tell me that I need to treat you better.. so I assumed you must’ve talked to him.” He shrugs and let’s go of my wrist, folding his arms over his chest.

I had told chan not to say anything but he did seem frustrated with the way Leeknow was acting so maybe he thought he was helping.. I don’t know.

“Are you gonna speak or just stand there like an idiot?” Leeknow asks me, the angered tone returning to his voice. “I was thinking.. something you need to do more of, it seems.” I quickly reply. He scoffs and tilts his head before smirking. “Is this your new thing?” He looks me up and down.

“What?” I turn to him, “Being a brat.” He spits. I walk up to him, “Like you aren’t?” I raise an eyebrow.. Leeknow closes his eyes and exhales deeply, quickly raising both his brows while doing so, his face forming into a smirk. I’m clearly pushing his buttons.

“There’s a difference.. I have a reason to act like this.” His dark gaze burns through my eyes.. “what is it, I’d love to know.” I say semi-sarcastically.

“I’ve been stressed.” He says, he’s lying, I can see it in his eyes and his face. “You’re always stressed why is that only now impacting the way you treat me?” I walk closer to him, studying his face. He’s holding something in.

“I’m here now so why does it matter.. I’m not ignoring you anymore.” He shrugs, looking around my dorm.. “it’s been a couple days huh?” He’s changing the subject. “How do you mean?” I walk up next to him, trying to follow his gaze.

“Since.. we..” his gaze locks on my bed and then on me. I scoff, “Maybe if you weren’t an asshole we could fix that but I don’t know.” I go and make my bed, I had only woken up an hour prior so I didn’t make my bed.

“I don’t like that you spoke to Chan and Jisung.” He says firmly, I pause my movement and turn to face him, “That’s a you problem.” I roll my eyes and continue, before I could grab the corner of the blanket he grabs both my shoulders, turning me around and pinning me to the wall.

My eyes widen slightly, “what’s this about?” I laugh at him, but I notice his serious expression and my laughter fades away.. “I don’t want to have to actually admit anything to you but I have no choice.” His grip tightens on my shoulder.

“Uhh..” I watch him, he yet again grabs my face to silence me. “Shh. I’m trying to speak my mind here got it?” I don’t fight back I just nod, he’s kinda hot like this.

“If you had just come to speak to me instead of my friends, I would’ve explained.” He breathes in deeply, his grip still on my face but he slips it to my jawline to keep my focus on him. “I wasn’t ignoring you because I’m ‘an asshole’, to quote you..”

“I..” he closes his eyes as if this causes him pain to explain. “I realised that, I really fucking like you.. so I thought if I pushed you away you’d hate me and I wouldn’t have to face it.” He squints his eyes and lets out a breath of relief after admitting.

I look at him, holding eye contact as he speaks to me nodding along. “But you didn’t hate me.. I saw you looking at me, you just looked sad. And that really pissed me off because I thought you’d just give up and find another fling.. but you waited.” He sighs.

“Fling?” I say gently. “Did you think that I thought we were just a fling?” I smile, looking at him through my eyelashes. “Is that not what this is..? What else would it be?” He looks confused, one hand still on my shoulder and the other on my jaw, holding me still.

“Well.. i thought it was becoming something more..” i admit.. “it was, that’s why i chickened out and tried to push you away, it felt too real..” he speaks, his grip softening on my shoulder.. “You had no right to treat me like that Leeknow.” I say back.

“I-“ he pause as if finishing his sentence is painful. “I’m sorry.” He says quickly as guilt washes over his face, letting go of my shoulders. “Is that all?” I tilt my head at him and smirk, his face immediately tenses again.

He grips my chin, pulling my face up to look at him. “You got your apology.. accept it.” He says quietly. “What if I don’t?” I grin, I love teasing him.

“I’ll.. never spend another night in here again.” He tightens his jaw, he’s lying.. we both know he wouldn’t be able to never have sex with me again. I laugh, really wanting to test him. “Okay then.. maybe I’ll just go back to Chan.”

I say, knowing this is riling him up. Am I a freak for loving it when he’s mad?

“What.” He says coldly. I bite my lip to stifle my chuckle. “Yeah.. I said we just talked but, you know.” I raise my eyebrows, I’m lying through my teeth, I could never see Chan in that way or would I ever fuck him.

Minho pushes my shoulders against the wall again, leaning his face down to mine.. “You’re lying.” He says slowly, his breath fanning over my lips from how close he is. “No im not.” I literally lie again.

“You said Han was there.. so I know you’re lying. you want to piss me off, and it’s working.” He admits, tightening his grip on my shoulders. It hurts a bit but I like it.

“Okay I admit I’m lying.. but it was worth it to see you get all riled up.” I laugh, he puts his tongue in his cheek and rolls his shoulders, letting go of mine. “You know what happens when I get riled up yn.. I need to let it out.” He breathes through his teeth, his eyes darkening as he looks at me.

“Go to the gym then.” I stand up from leaning on the wall. “No.” He moves to follow my gaze. “I need to.. release the energy in a different way.” He raises an eyebrow, smirking evilly as he walks to stand infront of me again.

I look to the bed behind me and at him, putting the pieces together. “if you wanted to fuck me you should’ve just said.” I bring my hand up to his face, brushing my finger along his bottom lip.

He shudders at the action, I know he’s missed this even though it’s only been a couple days. He takes my words and action as a sign to pounce. He immediately pushes me back onto the bed, pinning my arms down, bringing his lips to mine in a violent but intimate way.

It’s messy, his tongue finds its way into my mouth and he kisses me intensely, his knee finds place between my legs, the slight pressure making me pulse as his lips start to move to the side of my mouth, my cheek, my jawline, my ear and down my neck.

He starts biting and licking at my neck, leaving marks for sure.. I let out a slight whine as he does so, I missed this. He pulls away from my neck, letting go of my hands and kneeling up on the bed. “Take off your clothes.” He demands and I immediately fumble to try and pull my vest off over my head, he scoffs because I’m taking too long so he pulls my shorts and panties off in one motion.

He admires my naked body, just grinning at the sight of me laying infront of him.. his hands start to travel down my skin painfully slow before he rests them on my inner thighs.. I just watch him with doe eyes, my core is aching for him.

“I’m gonna make up for ignoring you okay? And also punish you for being so bratty earlier..” he smirks darkly before discarding of his sweatpants and boxers.. I definitely won’t be able to dance tomorrow.

A/n: Hope you guys enjoyed that if anyone read it idk, I feel like it wasn’t that good but I love writing and the idea came to me while I was on the treadmill at the gym😂 I feel like this is so much words idk how many but pls tell me if u liked it in the comments bc I have no clue if this is good💔 also pls tell me if any bad spelling mistakes I haven’t proofread it😭

[hummingbird24220]

hello! How are you these days?:3 I hope you're doing well! I have a request if u don't mind

I'm feeling angsty rn, so I will probably need some scenarios of op men (you can choose) if they lost (they died) reader to a fight🥹 I'm so sorry if this is too angsty but I need it💔

I hope you understand my needs! haha, your writing is beautiful I can't deny it. if it's too deep or you don't want to do this request, you may skip or delete it. thank you in advance! 💕

Hello. SO sorry it took a while! Been swaaaaamped, got 50 ish requests in my inbox lol. Hope this breaks your heart , but like, in a good bad way.

They Lose You - Various x Reader

Luffy – “I’ll never forgive them. Never.”

He stands in the middle of the wreckage, knuckles clenched, face shadowed by his hat. The silence is deafening. Not even the birds dare to sing. “They were just… with us.” Usopp’s voice cracks. Luffy doesn't answer. The ground beneath him trembles before he screams, his haki exploding like a tidal wave, shaking trees, stones, the sea. He carries your body back himself. Sits at the edge of the ship that night. “They said they’d become Pirate King with me,” he whispers. And in that moment, for the first time in a long time, the crew sees Luffy cry.

Zoro – “I was too slow.”

Zoro’s blade is still dripping, but he doesn’t move. Not even a twitch. The enemy’s body is split behind him, but it’s too late. He kneels beside you, gently laying Wado Ichimonji across your chest. “She liked this one,” he murmurs. He doesn’t let anyone else carry you. He trains every night after that with an intensity that borders on suicidal—until Chopper physically drags him off the field. “She would’ve yelled at me for this,” he mutters. But he never stops watching the horizon. One day, he swears, he’ll meet you on the other side.

Nami – “I’ll draw your map too.”

Your blood is still on her fingers. She screamed when you fell—tore her voice raw. The sea stormed that night with her grief. In the weeks that followed, her charts became messy. Lines where they shouldn’t be. Splotches of water damage. One day, she tears everything up. Starts again. But in the margins of every map, she writes a note: "For Y/N. The journey you didn’t get to finish." She includes a tiny compass rose with your initials at the top. A quiet tribute.

Sanji – “Your plate is still full.”

He made your favorite meal that night, out of habit. Set your spot at the table, even poured your drink. And then just stood there. No one says a word. Sanji doesn’t cry in front of them. But in the pantry, he falls to his knees, fists curled against the cabinet. He lights a cigarette and lets it burn to the filter. Later, he keeps your knife in the kitchen. Never uses it. Just polishes it, like a shrine.

Usopp – “I was supposed to protect you.”

He was the one paired with you that day. He was the one who watched you run ahead, laughing. He was the one who missed the shot.

He tells the crew, “They said to go ahead. I did. I didn’t look back.”

What he doesn’t say is how your body crumpled with a smile still on your face. How you reached for him. How he was too slow. How he keeps seeing it in his dreams.

He stops lying for a while. Not because he can’t—but because he doesn’t have the energy to make up stories anymore. His voice feels too small.

Eventually, he builds something in your memory. A statue, almost. Small and wobbly. It sits near the edge of the Sunny, watching the sea. “Hey,” he whispers to it. “I'm still aiming higher. Just like you told me.”

Brook – “May I play for you one last time?”

Death is not unfamiliar to Brook. But your death… Your death hurts.

You were the only one who treated him like he still had a heartbeat. Who danced with him without flinching. Who made jokes about being a "bonehead" just to see him laugh.

That night, Brook disappears from the ship. They find him at the site of the battle, standing under the stars, violin in hand.

He plays until sunrise. A sorrowful melody that ripples across the ocean like waves of mourning.

Later, he engraves your name on his violin’s side. Every concert he plays, he plays for two. “I hope you are listening from the other side, my dear. Yohoho… don’t worry. I’ll carry your song with me.”

Robin – “You were one of the only people who didn’t look away.”

Robin doesn’t scream. She doesn’t cry. She just sits still, your lifeless body cradled in her arms, as if you were sleeping. She doesn’t say goodbye. Not then. Not in front of anyone.

Later, she vanishes into the library.

She stays there for three days.

When she comes out, her eyes are shadowed—but her steps are purposeful. She adds a page to her personal journal: a memory, a drawing, a quote of something you once said—“I want to live a life that makes people smile when they remember it.”

Every year on the day you died, Robin visits that page.

And she smiles.

Just a little.

Chopper – “I’m the doctor… why couldn’t I save you?”

He worked on you for hours. Blood soaked his hooves. His tools. The floor. He screamed at the others not to come in. Said he could do it. That he would.

But your heartbeat didn’t come back.

And Chopper didn’t leave the infirmary for two days. When Sanji finally carried him out, he was barely conscious—whispering your name under his breath like a prayer.

He started researching like mad. Every book, every formula, every medical journal. “I’ll find a way to stop it next time,” he said. “I’ll be better. I’ll be stronger.”

He keeps your chart tucked behind his favorite book. And sometimes, when he’s sure no one is looking, he clutches it to his chest and cries.

Franky – “You were the most human part of me.”

Franky shuts down.

Literally.

After the fight, he doesn't cry, doesn't yell. He goes to the workshop and locks the door.

For days, the sound of metal-on-metal echoes through the ship. The crew knocks. He doesn’t answer. Finally, he emerges—red-eyed, silent. Holding something.

It’s a small mechanical device. Shaped like a heart. No real function. No flashy gadgets. Just a quietly humming core.

He places it gently on your bed.

“I couldn’t save you,” he says softly, brushing the sheets. “But I can make sure you’re never forgotten.”

Later, he upgrades the Sunny. Not with weapons. With a room full of your favorite things. A preserved space. A tribute.

When someone new joins the ship, he shows them that room first. “This was Y/N’s,” he says, voice cracking. “She was suuuuuuper.”

Ace – “I should’ve burned the world down for you.”

When he finds you, you’re barely breathing. He’s got your hand in his. There’s fire licking up his arms, wild and uncontrolled.

You smile at him. You apologize.

He begs. “No. Don’t you dare. Don’t you leave me too.”

But the light in your eyes fades.

And the world goes quiet.

Ace doesn’t speak at the funeral. Instead, he lights a torch and walks alone into the woods. They say the fire raged for two whole days. When he comes back, he's bruised, eyes bloodshot, his coat charred and singed. He never says what he did out there.

But the next time someone threatens someone Ace cares about?

He doesn’t hold back.

Because the last time he hesitated, it cost him you.

Law – “I’ve performed miracles. But I couldn’t fix you.”

He used Room six times. Swapped out every damaged organ. Sutured every artery with precision only he had.

But your body kept failing. You’d lost too much. Even he knew it.

And still—he tried again.

“Stay with me,” he begged, soaked in blood. “Don’t be stupid, you can’t leave me now.”

When the beeping stopped, he didn’t move for a long time.

Later, in private, he punched a wall so hard he fractured his hand.

He doesn’t bury you.

He keeps your heart in a cryo chamber. Preserved. Suspended in a glass sphere.

“Not for experiments,” he says, when Bepo asks with trembling paws. “I just… wasn’t ready.”

He visits it every night. And sometimes, when he’s alone, he talks to it.

As if it can still hear him.

[flamingoofeathers]

ik u write for bridget but does that extend to the queen of hearts as well? if so, would love a queen of hearts x femreader where the reader is one of her guards and it’s so obvious to literally everyone around them that the queen has a soft spot for reader but she’s completely oblivious to it

𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡 || 𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗚𝗘𝗧/𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

pairings: bridget/queen of hearts x guard!reader

summary: in the cold heart of the queen, a spot is reserved for a certain guard that has caught her attention long ago, if only she realized.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

one-shot; wc: 1.7k

main masterlist bridget masterlist

a/n: i usually don't write for the Queen of Hearts, but this certain request inspired me to write this, i hope this up to your expectations and enjoy it! 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗘𝗩𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝟲𝟬 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗦! 𝗜 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗦𝗢 𝗠𝗨𝗖𝗛!!<𝟯

Amidst Wonderland, there ruled a queen with a firm hand and a discerning eye. She held authority upon everyone who lived in her kingdom, strict rules made to keep everyone in order. But, beneath the hard and authoritative exterior she held, a hidden corner in her heart that had softened over time, a spot reserved for a certain guard….Y/n is her name, a diligent and loyal guard.

Y/n was known throughout the kingdom for her unwavering dedication and sense of duty, but also for the obvious affect she had towards the Queen.

In the Royal Palace, hearing whispers about the unusual behaviour the Queen had in front of the female guard was common, a lovesick like behaviour.

The Queen had first noticed her steadfast presence and her keen eyes that missed nothing. Over time, an unspoken fondness grew in the Queen’s heart for Y/n.

One day, the portrait of the Queen had been vandalised, painted red and slashed…..𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, she has had it either the constant attacks toward her, despite it not being direct and she was determined to find the culprit.

As the queen entered the palace’s court, the guards bowed down before her presence and watched as she neared them before commanding them to stand.

The Jack of Diamonds rose to his feet and approached the queen with caution “My Queen. I apologise for the inconvenience, i-“

“Have you found the culprit or not!?” The Queen bellowed, tired of the incompetency of the guard.

“Not yet, your excellency, but i am working on it” Jack of Diamond uttered.

“You are considered to be my greatest subject! You have exhausted my patience…OFF WITH YOU-“ Just as the Queen yelled another figure spoke.

“Your Royal Highness! If i may interrupt.” The female guard, Y/n, said.

The Queen turned around ready to condemn, the one who dared to interrupt her, that is until she saw who it was.

“Y/n! Darling, of course, please…what is it?” The queen had suddenly calmed down at mere sight of the girl. The queen stood before her with a smile on her face, standing like a puppy waiting for its master.

“Your Grace, i would like to deeply apologise, the Jack of Diamonds isn’t to blame. I was the one on duty these past few nights and if there is someone to be punished, it is i. I have been incompetent and unable to capture the perpetrator.” The female guard contested, bowing down to her knees before the Queen.

The Queen grew panicked “No no, darling…” the red haired girl chuckled nervously “ i was simply joking, ahahah” she faked laughed looking around, threatening anyone with her eyes who didn’t laugh along with her “his head will stay on and so will yours, darling, do not worry about it” the Queen cleared her throat.

“Are you certain, your Majesty?” Y/n said raising her head to look at the Queen.

“Yes, yes….now, please, get up, no need to how to me” the Queen insisted taking Y/n by her arms, personally guiding her to stand up.

“Now, that…is now solved. Take your time, Darling, it is only a portrait after all” The Queen smiled before gesturing at the other guards “just replace it immediately or its off with you heads” she said before leaving along with the other guards.

The Jack of Diamonds approached her reluctantly “Just because the Queen has a soft spot for you, doesn’t mean that i do.” the guard said with hatred.

“What are you talking about, the Queen treats her Royal subjects the same.” The girl said firmly, she didn’t have time to slack off or the vandalist might cause another ruckus.

“Oh please, it’s obvious she likes you more than the rest of us, why? I do not know, you are annoying.” He said with a tone of jealousy.

“You know, a thank you, would be nice?”

“I don’t need you to save me, you weren’t on patrol last night, i was. I am not coward who cant take the consequences”

“Just say thank you”

“….thank you.”

“See….that easy”

It was an unusually tranquil day, with the sun casting a warm glow over the well maintained grounds. The roses, painted red under her command, stood vibrant and proud.

The garden, usually a place of solitude for the Queen, held an unexpected encounter that day.

As she meandered through the rows of bushes, she noticed Y/n conversing with a few other guards.

The Queen paused, watching from a distance as Y/n’s face lit up with a rare smile, her usual stern demeanor softened.

The sight stirred something in the Queen, a blend of curiosity and a pang of jealousy. She wanted that smile to be reserved only for her.

Determined to have Y/n to herself, the Queen approached the group with her authoritative presence commanding immediate attention.

“Y/n…darling, how have you been?” The Queen smiled interrupting their conversation.

“Your Grace! Why is am doing quite fine, how about you, ma’am?” Y/n said with a small bow.

“Why i am fine now that you are here” she replied before turning towards the other guards standing there awkwardly.

Her smile fell and her eyes turned cold.

“Leave us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty” they replied in unison before dispersing leaving her and the guard alone.

Y/n looked at her with a hint of confusion “Your Majesty, how can i assist you?”

The smiled on the Queen’s face returned “Walk with me, dear. I find the garden more enjoyable with your company”

Y/n nodded, as she fell into step beside the queen. They walked in silence with the Queen stealing glances at her, she noticed the tense and attentive stance of the girl as they walked.

“No need to be tense, my dear, it is only the two of us after all” she said calmly.

“Danger could be right around the corner, Your Grace, i simply can’t risk you getting hurt” the girl said looking around them.

The words of the guard made the queen’s cold heart, warm. She smiled to herself, feeling flustered, but deep inside she knew that the girl only said that because of her duty as a guard, still, she didn’t care that moment.

The Queen sparked another conversation between them “Y/n, do you often find time to speak to the other guards?” She said, her tone laced with jealousy.

Y/n looked slightly embarrassed. “Not often, Your Majesty. My primary duty is to you, and I take that responsibility very seriously.”

As they strolled deeper into the garden, the Queen asked about her background, her family, and what drove her to become a place guard.

“You speak with so much conviction” the Queen observed “What drives you to such loyalty?”

“I believe in justice, your Highness. And i believe you uphold it as a ruler”

The Queen was touched by Y/n’s sincerity and finds herself sharing “ruling is not easy, you know? There are days where the weight of the crown becomes unbearable” she said with vulnerability.

Y/n looked at the Queen with compassion “Even the strongest rulers needs support, your Highness. You are a strong and just ruler, i wish for your majesty to never forget that.”

“That means more coming for you, Darling” the Queen smiled.

“I am here to serve you not just as a guard, but also as a friend, if you’d let me” the guard said with a small smile.

Although getting called as only “a friend” stung a bit, the Queen felt an unexpected warmth in her chest, a feeling of genuine connection as she gestured for the girl to take a seat on the bench “Your words bring me comfort, Darling. I did not realize how much I needed such honesty and support.”

They sat in silence as they watched the sun set, the Queen felt a new sense of peace and a weight lifted off her.

When it was time to depart the Queen hesitated before saying “Y/n, your presence brings me comfort in ways I find hard to express. You are more than just a guard to me.” right then and there, she was tempted to tell her what she really felt towards her, but it didnt feel like the right time.

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, a soft hue of pink dusted her cheeks “Your Majesty, I am deeply honored by your words. I never imagined my duty could mean so much to you.”

The Queen reached out, gently holding Y/n’s hands “It means more than you know. I hope you will continue to walk with me, not just as my guard, but as someone I can trust and confide in.” She said with hope.

“Of course, your Majes-“ y/n started.

“Bridget. Please call me Bridget” the Queen replied.

Y/n wanted to protest, but she recognised a certain vulnerability in the Queen’s voice and a new look of peace in her eyes, where the usual storm brewed, so she smiled and nodded her head.

“Of course, 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙩, i would be honoured to do this again” Y/n said with a comforting smile before leaving.

As they both walked back to their own respective quarters, both realised that they’re relationship has surpassed the Ruler and guard phase and passed onto something much deeper and profound.

That night the guard laid in her bed with a smile on her face and new feeling in her chest, making her giddy.

Meanwhile on the other side of the palace, the Queen laid in her bed, silently squealing at the progress she made with the guard she had been infatuated with for so long.

Both slept with a new yet deep understanding of each other.

[j0shuahongs]

Quarter to Midnight

summary: It’s not the night they planned. But maybe it’s the night they needed.

pairing : joshua × fem reader 

wc: 1.5k

genre :  fluff, cozy slice-of-life (hope i did it justice), strangers-to-friends / strangers-to-?, slight angst (kinda), hurt/comfort

warnings: brief mentions of blood (just teeny-tiny)

a/n: another meet-cute joshua fic? if i had a nickel for every joshua "strangers-to-?" fic I made i'd have two nickels. which isn't alot but it's weird that it happened twice lol. *really isn't my intention! but it just so happens to be the same theme lol. maybe (?) connected to my first joshua one shot here but can also be stand alone. idk if i will connect them or just let them be. also this is one of the fics that's been in my drafts for waaaay too long. (3 years 😔 im sorry) and I am NOT waiting for Christmas to come by to post this so here's a christmas themed fic in May lol. again, tell me what u think! 🥹

The first time they met, snowflakes drifted softly around the bustling town square.

Strings of lights hung between rooftops like captured stars, laughter and music filling the crisp air. Kids darted between booths and food stands, chasing each other with mittens and scarves trailing behind them.

In the middle of it all, she stood still — quiet and disconnected, her heart out of sync with the festive rhythm.

After a while, she excused herself from the group of coworkers who had dragged her there in hopes of lifting her spirits. It wasn’t that she hated the holidays. And she was grateful, truly.

But there was something about being lost in a sea of strangers — where the noise drowned out her thoughts — that made her want to disappear.

Being in a foreign country for work only made the loneliness sharper.

“Aw, come on, (Y/N)! It’s almost midnight. Please stay a little longer?” one of her coworkers pleaded, tugging on her hand with a playful pout.

She smiled softly, heart warmed despite herself.

“I’m really tired,” she said gently, squeezing the girl’s hand in apology. “I’m sorry.”

The coworker pouted again but relented. “At least let us take you home?”

She shook her head with a small smile. “It’s alright. You should stay — it’s almost midnight. Enjoy the countdown.”

After promising to message them when she got home, she slipped away from the crowd.

The cold nipped sharply at her nose and fingertips. She pulled her coat and scarf tighter around her, eyes fixed on the ground as she weaved carefully between clusters of people. The festival’s laughter and music blurred into the background, distant and muffled. Her thoughts drifted — to work, to home, to how strange it was to be surrounded by hundreds of people and still feel invisible.

She didn’t see the collision coming.

One second she was lost in thought —

The next, a sudden slam against her shoulder sent the world tipping sideways.

Her breath caught as she hit the snowy ground, a warm weight pressing down on her. The world spun before she dared to open her eyes.

A figure sprawled across her, still and unmoving. Panic climbed up her throat.

Are they unconscious? Drunk? Dead?

She tapped the person’s back lightly, her voice unsteady. “Excuse me—”

The body shifted with a groan, lifting himself just enough.

Two warm, worried eyes met hers in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice rough and breathless.

For a moment, everything else faded — snow drifting softly around them, music distant and muted beneath the hush of falling flakes. It was just him and her.

He was beautiful.

She blinked up at him, caught by the way snowflakes clung to his lashes and the concerned furrow of his brow.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, gentler this time.

Somehow, she managed a small nod.

Relief passed over his face as he pushed himself upright and reached down, offering his hand. His fingers curled gently around hers — careful, steady — as he pulled her to her feet.

“I’m so sorry,” he said sheepishly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.  “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Me neither.”

She dusted herself off, half-expecting bruises — but instead, she felt strangely weightless.

He bent to retrieve his snow-covered beanie from the ground.

That’s when she noticed it—blood staining the back of his hand.

Her breath caught sharply. “Your hand—!” she gasped.

He glanced at it, then gave a crooked little smile. “It’s nothing serious. Just a scratch.”

But before he could brush it off, she was already reaching for him, worry tugging at her heart. “Please… let me help.”

He hesitated, surprised by the earnestness in her voice — then smiled softly—the kind of smile that made something flutter in her chest.

Without a word, they made their way to a nearby bench.

He settled down, resting his injured hand on his knee, absently tapping along to the beat of the distant music.  She perched beside him, pulling a tissue from her pocket and gently dabbing at the cut, careful not to hurt him.

Up close, she noticed tiny flecks of snow melting into his dark hair and the faint flush of cold on his cheeks. He carried the crisp scent of winter air, mingled with something sweet—cinnamon, maybe.

Neither spoke, but it didn’t feel awkward. The silence felt comfortable, like a quiet secret carved out from the noisy world around them.

The clock above the square chimed softly.

Fifteen minutes until Christmas.

She continued dabbing the napkin gently against his bleeding hand, frowning slightly.

‘How can such a small cut bleed so much?’ she thought, shaking her head with a tiny frown.

Joshua watched her with a fond smile, amused by how seriously she was concentrating — eyes narrowed in focus, fingertips light and careful on his skin

When she finally finished patching him up, she sat back on the bench with a small sigh, shoving both hands deep into the pockets of her jacket to guard against the cold.

A weird kind of awkwardness settled between them — not uncomfortable, exactly.

More like... neither of them really wanted to leave, but neither knew how to say it.

The music from the festival drifted toward them, muffled by the snow.

Joshua cleared his throat.

"So..." he started, tone half-playful, half-awkward. “Christmas. Almost.”

A beat. Then: “You come here often?”

‘Joshua, what kind of question was that?!’ He mentally face-palmed even before the words fully left his mouth.

She laughed under her breath, the sound warm despite the freezing air.

"Actually, I'm not from here," she said, a puff of cold breath escaping her lips. "I’m just here for work."

He brightened, relaxing a little.

“I’m from here — kind of. Work abroad, mostly. I’m just home for the holidays.”

The way he said it — soft, a little wistful — made something in her chest squeeze.

Neither of them had plans for Christmas. Both of them, a little lost tonight.

Joshua shifted, stuffing his injured hand back into his jacket pocket.

"Actually, I was on my way to grab coffee," he said, almost too casually.

"Actually, I was heading home," she said at the same time.

They both blinked at each other.

Joshua laughed once, quick and embarrassed, the sound curling into the cold air.

"Oh," he said, and she caught the flicker of disappointment in his voice.

Her heart jolted unexpectedly. Without thinking, she blurted, "I—I could use some coffee too."

His face lit up instantly, like she’d just handed him a gift. "Yeah?" he said, smile wide and boyish.

She tucked her chin into her scarf, fighting a grin.

"Yeah."

He stood up and offered his (now bandaged) hand like a gentleman.

"Then let's go find the best cup of Christmas Eve coffee this town has to offer."

The little coffee shop they stumbled into was nearly empty, tucked away on a side street dusted in snow.

A bell jingled overhead as they pushed open the door, letting a blast of warmth and the rich scent of coffee wrap around them.

Joshua shook the snow from his beanie, laughing when he nearly slipped on the welcome mat. She covered her mouth, giggling behind her glove.

They ordered — two hot chocolates, because Joshua insisted Christmas Eve deserved the sweetest drink possible — and found a seat by the window.

Outside, the faint glow of the festival lights painted the snowy street in soft colors.

Inside, it was quieter — just the low hum of a Christmas song playing from the speakers, and the distant sound of people starting the countdown outside.

10...

Joshua cradled his mug in trembling hands, blowing on it to cool it down. The warmth seeping through the ceramic like a quiet reassurance.

He lifted the cup just enough to peek at her over the rim, catching her eyes and smiling softly.

9...

“You know,” he murmured, voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire in the café. "I'm kinda glad I bumped into you."

8...

She ducked her head, her cheeks bloomed with a rosy glow, deeper than the drink warming her palms.

7...

"Me too," she mumbled, a shy smile tucked into her scarf.

6...

Outside, the countdown swelled — excited, full of life.

Inside, time seemed to stretch for the two of them — a small bubble of warmth in the cold, snowy night.

5...

Joshua leaned forward, elbows resting gently on the table.

"You made tonight... a lot less lonely."

4...

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. Her chest tightening at how sincere he sounded.

3...

No words were spoken, but something hung in the air between them — quiet and unmistakable.

2...

Her smile blossomed — quiet but sure, a tender yes without words.

1...

The clock struck midnight. Cheers erupted from the streets outside, fireworks painting the sky in bursts of gold and crimson, a fleeting tapestry of light against the dark.

Joshua raised his mug in a gentle toast, his smile shy yet radiant, like a candle flickering in the quiet night.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, voice low, warm, sincere.

She met his toast, their mugs touching with a soft clink that echoed like a promise.

“Merry Christmas."

In that shared moment, beneath the falling snow and glittering sky, the loneliness they carried quietly dissolved — replaced by something new: no longer strangers, no longer alone.

[chimivx]

Im so happy that you are accepting vegas scenarios. Thank you so much 💗

Can it be like a lazy fluffy family day, just them enjoying their day with Dae.

Actually, am ok with whatever you write lol I just miss them. They are my comfort place 💕

Have a great day ✨️

...dads and their toddlers -> vegas!yoongi/vegas!couple <3

moms and their infants, dads and their toddlers… i enjoyed writing this. i miss them with all of my heart. trust they are happy & taken care of.

wc: 2.5k. warnings: f l u f f. vegas masterlist.

“No, no, no!”

Feet thundered on the hardwood floor, startling you where you stood at the counter slicing up fruits, tossing the pieces into a little pink bowl. Pressing a hand to the stretchy cotton wrapped around your front, your shoulders and your back, you curled a finger over the fabric and peeked inside, hoping tiny fluffy eyelashes were still laying over round, chubby cheeks. Taking the smallest breath without disturbing the little one, though she was used to everything by now, you cover her back up and finish chopping up the apple your three year old asked for ten minutes ago.

“No!”

Yoongi’s shout carried through the living room, echoed into the hall and found you in the kitchen. The sound of his voice alone, though he seemed like he was fighting a battle, brought you comfort. His voice and Dae’s maniacal giggles. Inseparable, the two of them, since Yoongi’s been able to live back at home with the three of you. Your girl, your Dae, an exact replica of her father, she adored him.

And she had him wrapped around her finger.

Wherever Dae went, Yoongi was behind her. Whatever Dae wanted, Yoongi gave her. All it took was a little pout and the blinking of her lashes and he melted into a puddle on the floor. The subtlest slouch of her shoulders and he would give in, even if he’s said no many times before. So many times you’ve mumbled what trouble she got him in, but with one tip of his chin, glare of his eyes and smirk of his lips, he told you she got this from you.

Truthfully, Dae’s fixation with her father made it easy to bring her sister into the family. Though you sometimes wished she’d ask to lay with you at night instead of Yoongi, or that she wanted you to read her a book instead of Yoongi humming her songs, you were burdened with glorious purpose.

Hyejin came into your lives around the end of August, right when things flipped upside for you and Yoongi for a bit like life normally would. Everything happened at once, that’s how things went around here, new baby, private life media breach, something of a public scandal that you’ll fight till your last breath defending- Nine months pregnant, heavily exhausted from mothering a two year old at the same time, every reporter, every nonsense human being who came around looking for their fifteen minutes, they didn’t stand a chance.

Not Yoongi nor Jin could stop you. If you caught someone's ear, if they dared to step up to the woman in sweatpants with her belly popping out of a cropped sweater, that was their own fault. Neither man could tell you to lay down, eat something, or sleep. It was your second rodeo and you knew what you were doing. Pregnant with Hyejin, you could take on the fucking world, you were invincible, you were fearless. Every worry you had the first time around with Dae, gone. Every precaution you’d take, every cautious step, every jump at every single subtle sound, gone.

You weren’t sick like you had been throughout your first pregnancy, you weren’t drowsy and fatigued, you didn’t have the need to lie down or sit down often- You were exhausted, yes, but not because of Hyejin. Dae kept you on your toes, especially on days when Yoongi had to work, or Sunny had to fly to LA, or Jin had to also work. When it was just you and her, she ran the show, but as she should. You soaked in as much time as possible with her, your first baby, the girl who changed your life for the better.

Time spent with Dae healed you in more ways than one. You worked hard to be the best mother you could be for her, and Yoongi the best father. A promise you kept with one another, for your children.

The two of you went on mother daughter dates appropriate for a two year old. Getting your nails painted, shopping for clothes and toys, letting Sunny cut and style your hair together, making art with her, dancing around her bedroom with her. It’d been your favorite time with her, the best time, and now with a baby strapped to your front, it was Yoongi’s turn.

The nights he’d lay with Dae were nights you spent nursing Hyejin, something you never go to experience with your first born. She was an entirely different child, but that didn’t mean you loved either one any less. It’d been scary the first time around, a lot of things did not go how they were supposed to, how you and Yoongi wanted them to go. After Hyejin’s birth it felt as though you both needed to relearn how to be a new parent.

She grew quickly, she ate when she was supposed to, she made it past the one month and two month old check up without having to be readmitted to the hospital. Getting her to sleep was a breeze, but she was sure to let you know when she was awake and ready to be fed. Hyejin became the boss in the sweetest way, and you and Yoongi both know that Dae had paved the way.

Where your first born was kind, charming and gentle, Hyejin was already fearless, confident and headstrong. The day she starts walking is the day Dae’s life changes. You couldn’t wait for the two of them to grow up together, two tiny best friends.

“Min Dae,” you called out, turning your chin out the archway into the hall so your voice would carry to the little one probably pinning her father to the rugs in the living room. Slicing another apple for you and Yoongi you tossed it into another bowl and slid it onto the island counter behind you. Grabbing the already full bowl of grapes and tangerines, you slid that over as well. Spinning around, you grabbed onto Hyejin and gasped aloud.

“Hey, D, can- Oh my god!”

Dae sat on top of his shoulders, her pink pajama pants bringing a pink tinge to Yoongi’s cheeks. Holding onto her ankles, Dae holding onto the top of his head, they both wore the same tight lipped smile and broke into the same fit of giggles when they successfully scared you. They snuck in while you were situating the snacks, Yoongi still standing on bent knees he tiptoed into the kitchen with.

“I told you we’d get her,” Yoongi looked up at Dae who gave him an upside down smile as her dad shook her where she sat.

“We scared you,” Dae said, proud as ever, hands gripping at the dark strands of her fathers hair.

“Yes,” you breathed, giving her a smile. “You scared me,” you said, giving Yoongi a look, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he crooned, coming to your side with a kiss for you. Taking a hand to his cheek you pulled at it and curled your lip.

“Almost peed,” you mumbled, and Dae thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Falling forward over her fathers head her hands dropped to his shoulders and she almost slid off his back. Reaching his hands backward he grabbed her under her arms and maneuvered her around to prop her on his hip. “You think it’s funny Dae-sy!?”

“Yes, Mommy,” she giggled, “Don’t pee your pants!” Yoongi clenched his jaw, his smile unmatched, trying to withhold his laughter.

Leaning in toward her, you tapped the tip of her nose and said, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Snacks in hand, everyone acquiring a bowl, your little family ventured back into the living room, taking to the floor, the fruits living on the wooden coffee table between the couches. Dae, to your surprise, cozied up on your lap, or one of your thighs rather, her sister took up most of the room.

“What do we say to Mama?” Yoongi asked Dae from your left, raising his brows into the hair that was slowly starting to grow longer over his forehead.

Your three year old looked over her shoulder with a mouthful of grapes and smiled. “Tank you,” she said quietly, not every letter quite making it out with the words.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, you said, “You’re welcome, my baby.”

Yoongi danced a hand over your back, scooting even closer to you on the rug. His legs pressed into your hips, if they were stretched out they’d be able to wrap around you and you’d fit perfectly between his hips. Sliding his fingers down your arm reaching for a tangerine, he took it, tossed it into his other hand, laced his fingers with yours and pressed his lips to your ear. “How’s my baby doing?”

Warmth burned in your cheeks as you smiled back at him, catching his lips in the quickest kiss. “Good,” you whispered. He leaned forward and laid his head on your shoulder, both of his hands wrapping around your front, just over where Hyejin slept. “She’s tired today.”

“You’ve got her all warm and snuggly, I’d be tired too,” he said quietly. His hands held her, his fingers smoothing over her back through the fabric of the wrap around you. “Wish we had this with Dae.”

“She would’ve hated it, D,” you half laughed. “She’s so nosey, imagine trying to keep her in here.”

He pursed his lips and nodded, looking down at his first born watching the two of you intently with her cheeks puffed out, full of fruit. “That’s why you’re so smart.”

You poked her nose and she giggled. “‘Cause you’re so curious.”

“Yeaaah,” she tried to sing, and the two of you laughed aloud. Dae grinned wide, proud of herself.

“I told Jimin she’s a Shawol, he didn’t believe me,” Yoongi said. “We have to get that in a video.”

Taking Dae’s cheeks between a finger and your thumb, you squished them, turning her smile silly. “One of her dancing, too. Taemin can take her on tour.”

Yoongi furrowed his brow. “She could probably handle that, put Guilty on the TV.”

“Gui-tee!” Dae leapt to her feet, stomped in place, eyes wide, then rushed for the flat screen on the wall.

Scrambling to find the remote, Yoongi shot you a look. “You tell Kook she’s no longer obsessed with his song anymore?” Pressing the power button the TV lit up and Dae shrieked, making Hyejin stir.

Placing a hand over her back, you pouted. “I don’t have the heart, D, what the hell am I supposed to say?”

Yoongi, now leaning over the coffee table, his eyes fixated on the TV like his daughters, searched up Taemin’s music video, and the moment Dae saw the thumbnail she babbled something neither you nor Yoongi could make out.

“That she likes this shirtless guy now instead of him,” he joked, snickering as he clicked play, giving you a smile.

The music started and you couldn’t help it as your eyes slid over to the screen. The beat of the song, the sound of his voice, the artistry of the entire piece, you longed to know what went through his head when he came up with these concepts. Helping the guys with theirs before their enlistment, keeping the spark alive while they did their mandatory service, it was exciting- but nothing quite like this. Taemin had a creative brain you yearned to pick. The choreography, the music, the passion…

“See, you like him, too,” Yoongi teased, pulling you from the daze as Taemin pulled his hand out of his shirt.

Nearly breaking your neck you shot him a glare, the smile evident on your lips.

“For your information, I was admiring the art,” you said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Mhm,” he smirked. “If he released this a few months earlier he’d be responsible for that one,” he mumbled, glancing down at Hyejin.

Clicking your tongue, you slouched over defeated, smile playing at your lips, arms wrapping over Hyejin who made some noise. “Is it so horrible it’s a tragically sexy song?” Supporting your baby you began to maneuver yourself out of the wrap. Yoongi moved to your side and helped, one hand beneath yours to keep Hyejin safe, the other untangling you from the fabric.

“It is tragically sexy,” he whispered, taking the wrap from you, smiling down at Hyejin who had opened her eyes. Free from her cocoon of warmth she stretched out her arms and wiggled her head, her legs kicking forward one by one. Her fluff of dark hair was cradled in your elbow. “I like the video too,” he whispered, meeting your eyes with the tiniest smile, “Don’t worry.”

“Oh, I know you do,” you whispered back, kissing him when he tilted his head. Twirling behind the two of you, Dae sang along, or tried, and danced to the rhythm, following Taemin and his team of talented dancers. Hyejin let out one whine and you laughed against his lips. “Our kids don’t let us kiss.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and looked down at Hyejin and her pastel purple long sleeved footed pajamas. “It’s a wonder we were able to have her.” Catching his eyes for two seconds, heart sinking a smidge, he placed a hand to your cheek, his thumb dragging beneath your lashes. It wasn’t what he meant, he was adding to the joke, not making light of what you both went through last winter. Almost a month away from the date.

Hyejin whined once more, her arms and legs going astray, pulling your attention toward her.

“Are you hungry?” you asked softly, reaching between you and the baby to set her up for her own lunch. Yoongi moved behind you, helping you situate yourself, your shirt, the baby, giving you a place to rest while you fed her.

Taemin ended, and autoplay gave your daughter the greatest gift ever. The BigHit intro played, and she froze. She knew this intro. It was either her father, or BTS themselves, or someones solo stuff. You’ve given her a taste of Tomorrow X Together, some days she’d beg for Chasing That Feeling. The scream that rung through the air when Jungkook appeared, tattoos on display in his sleeveless vest, hair hanging over his forehead, it made you and your husband laugh.

“Kookie, Kookie, Kookie!” she shouted again, and again, and again, running in circles as she did.

Leaning your head back on Yoongi’s shoulder, you looked up at him and gave him a tight lipped smile. “She’s still obsessed.”

“Of course she is,” he mumbled. The smell of fresh, sweet citrus filled the air. He pressed a small tangerine slice to your lips and slipped it inside your mouth when you parted them. “Uncle Kookie gives her whatever she wants.” Kissing you any way he could, he smiled and fed you another piece of tangerine, making sure you were taken care of while you took care of his daughter, your daughter.

“She misses him,” you whispered.

Yoongi bobbed his head. “Yeah,” he sighed, looking at Dae twirling to the music, then at you with a pout forming on both your faces. “We all do.”

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works.

[st4rymoon]

hi i have an idea 😋

can u do a fic where Steven and the reader are in a friend-with-benefits situation but she doesn’t know he’s a superhero so while she was reading fanfics on her new celebrity, the new white suit vigilante Steven saw her screen and had an idea to make her feel good 🤸

This was so fun to write HEHEHE😽 I have a feeling the suit would give Steven a boost of confidence… I see him getting more daring and touchy than usual. He just feels like he has a stronger power over you than usual 🙊

☾˚⋆𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡

✶ 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵: After joking about how you think the white masked vigilante could kiss you better than he could, Steven decides to put it to the test.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: p in v, brattish reader, unprotected sex, creampie, language, sex! in Mr. Knights suit xx, dumbification on both sides, soft dom steven, friends with benifits, very slight choking

"I wonder if he's cute." You smiled as the photos of a new vigilante flooded your feed. A white suit with moon-embroidered accents that was well-fitted on the stranger fighting off some robbers.

Steven sat beside you as you talked about how you'd bet money the man behind the suit was handsome. Unbeknownst to you, the man under the suit was, in fact, attractive and sitting right next to you.

Steven managed to keep under the radar from cameras and news outlets, but sooner or later, he knew he'd be caught when fighting crime. "And if he is cute, what then?" Steven curiously asked.

"Might have to kiss him, ya know, for keep us safe and all," you wink as you stand beside him. His eyes trailed with your form as you packed up your belongings. "You think he'd kiss better than me?" Steven asked with a teasing pout as he stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist.

His lips softly kissed down your neck and onto your shoulders as you tried to ignore the hard-on pressing against your ass. "Maybe, might even fuck me better," you teased. Steven scoffed at your words; he knew you were trying to poke his buttons, and it worked. Even when the man you were talking about was him.

"We'll just have to see about that, huh?" he smiled as you pulled away from him with an eye roll.

A few days later, you again ended up at Steven's flat. Waiting for him to return from whatever shenanigans he was up to today. You decided to kill some time and go on your phone, scrolling through your Tumblr as you came across a new writer appearing on your feed. Moonknight smut.

Moonknight? Is this the name of the new sexy superhero? You squealed as you turned onto your stomach and got lost in the reading. The story pulled you to the point that you didn't even hear Steven walk into the flat.

He tip-toed quietly to you and took a look at your screen. He followed along as you read without you noticing his ninja-like movements. Steven chuckled at the filthy words you read, deciding it was a good idea to announce himself as he summoned his suit.

You jumped as you heard a loud noise from behind you. "I've been told you're quite fond of my suit," you heard from the suited figure before you.

Your mouth dropped at the familiar voice. "S-Steven?" you gasped as you stood from the bed. "I'm not sure who Steven is, love. Whoever this fella is, do you think he'd kiss you better than I could?" With that sentence, you knew it was Steven.

"I'm not sure, Mr. white suit. Wouldn't I have to try it before making rash judgments?" you cooed as you walked up to Steven and ran your fingers up his chest. "I think you're right." the glowing eyes from his mask scrunched as he smiled.

Your eyes lit up as Steven's mask disappeared, putting you face-to-face with the handsome superhero. "Told you he'd be sexy," You teased as Steven's Hands trailed down your hips. You smiled as you took in Stevens's soft features. His soft lips curled into a smile as you traced his cheekbone with your thumb.

"And very handsome." you purred as you yanked him down for a kiss. The sound of your lips smashing against each other as you lapped at each other's mouths was intoxicating for Steven. He squirmed in his uncomfortable suit as his trousers grew tight. "In the suit, fuck me in the suit," you gasped as your nails dug into his forearms.

"Why else would I have this on?" he smiled, yanking your shorts down swiftly and the time it took Steven to unzip his pants was impressive, to say the least. "Look at me, darling, look at me," Steven hummed as he moved a pillow behind your back, arching you up perfectly.

"Does he kiss better, mmhm?" Steven teased as he bit down your neck, his hands moving to the back of your thighs and spreading you wide. "Yeah, and he'll fuck me better, too" You brattly replied.

"Acting like a brat, honey? Why? Does the suit make you want to talk back?" Steven hissed as he rubbed his leaking tip between your folds. “You can keep the attitude up darling, I don’t mind” he cooed.

"Mhm" you moaned as you watched his hips roll with each thrust. His thick tip rubbed against your clit ever so slight, purposefully teasing and riling you up.

Your eyes lit up as you watched Stevens's eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushed into you. You could see the veins in his neck bulge as he sunk deeper into your sticky cunt. "Feel's so fuc- ahh" Steven cried out as he thrusted into you.

Stevens's calloused hands groped you hungrily, his nails sinking into your plush thighs in desperation. Embarrassment filled Steven as a loud moan left his lips. Your cunt pulsing around him had him drunk. You smiled dumbly as you watched Steven's white mask appear in an attempt to save himself from embarrassment.

His glowing eyes stared down at you with a pathetic furrow "God love you always f—feel so good," he huffed as you clawed at his sleeves. You brainlessly bounced along with his deep thrusts as his hands gripped his bookshelves.

"Stev- stevenn," You sobbed as he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your content moans filled stevens ears as his public bone rubbed against your swollen clit. "Feels good, doesn't it love? Getting fucked by the guy who keeps you safe?" He chuckled shakily.

It was true, and you loved it, loved knowing the man who could pull multiple orgasms out of you was the man behind the white masked vigilante. "Pl- wanna see your face plea-" You sobbed as Steven's arms cradled your head for a better position.

You could feel him hitting the deepest spots inside you, and the moment his hand wrapped around your throat, your eyes rolled back into your skull. Steven's mask disappeared, and you were met with his puppy dog eyes admiring you as a desperate moan left your lips.

Steven couldn't help but smile as he watched you come undone on his dick, your white pearly slick making the sex all the louder. He could feel you pulsing around him in a way that had his saliva dribbling down his lips. "oh my g- bloody hell" Steven's guttural moan filled your ears as he collapsed on top of you.

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as Steven fucked his messy loads back into your cunt while you clung onto him for dear life. One last moan left Steven as you squealed in pleasure.

Steven's hands carefully lowered your legs and pulled out with a hiss. His suit was off in seconds, and you were flushed against his chest. You both bathed in each other's warmth before Steven ran a hand down your head "Surprise" he cockily chuckled as you sighed.

“Superhero vigilante is definitely a turn-on." You smiled.

[zapreportsblog]

OH MY LORD I LOVE EVERYTHING YOU WRITE FOR ME ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Now imma bother u again lol.

I need more angst and fluff hahah sorryyy.

So another argument between the poly!volturi kings x reader where they say something like “You are my greatest regret to ever have come into my life.”

And reader burst ot in tears and she is already suicidal so yknow she just gives up, they stop her and so on. And then she Apologises or something and they say some like this.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t you dare try and apologize for something you haven’t done or anything to do with!”

Pleaseee🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈 Love ya byeee❤️❤️❤️

↱ ending things ↰

➘ summary : remember words can hurt so best be careful with what you say

➘ the volturi x reader , aro x reader x marcus x caius

➘ a/n : I did as asked….though you didn’t say anything about there needing to be a happy ending hehehehe though I gave you the closure of an apology that was the fluff part; cheers!

Within the hallowed halls of the Volturi castle, tension hung heavy in the air, an unspoken weight that seemed to seep into every corner. The kings of the vampire world, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, stood in a circle, their expressions marred by frustration and anger. In their midst stood (y/n), the human mate of these immortal beings, her eyes brimming with a mixture of defiance and hurt.

Arguing had become an unsettling pattern, each disagreement intensifying the fractures within their relationship. Tonight, the culmination of unresolved issues reached a breaking point.

"Why can't you see reason, (y/n)?!" Aro's voice rose with exasperation, his eyes aflame with frustration.

"Because this isn't just about what you want, Aro!" (Y/n)'s voice trembled with emotion, her own frustration taking its toll.

Caius, his usual calm veneer shattered, couldn't contain his anger any longer. "You are my greatest regret to ever have come into my life," he spat, his words laced with venom.

The words hung in the air like a poison, the silence that followed suffocating. (Y/n)'s eyes widened in shock, her heart clenched with a pain she had never anticipated. She felt as if the ground beneath her feet had crumbled, her world shattered by the weight of Caius' words.

Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of anger and heartbreak roiling within her chest. Without another word, she turned on her heel and fled, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she sought refuge from the pain that seemed to grip her soul.

As she ran through the twisting passages of the castle, her thoughts were a tumultuous storm. How had it come to this? The love that had once bound them felt distant and fractured, replaced by hurtful words and unspoken resentments.

Reaching a secluded chamber, (y/n) collapsed onto a stone bench, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if seeking to shield her heart from the agony that seemed to seep into every fiber of her being.

The door creaked open, and she looked up to see Marcus standing in the doorway. His expression was a mixture of regret and sadness, a reflection of the turmoil that had torn their bond asunder.

"(Y/n)," he began softly, his voice a gentle murmur, "I know things have been difficult."

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and confusion. "Marcus, what has happened to us?"

His footsteps were soft as he approached her, sitting beside her on the bench. "We let our differences and frustrations build up, and we forgot the strength of our connection."

Tears flowed freely down (y/n)'s cheeks, her emotions raw and exposed. "Caius... his words..."

Marcus sighed, his gaze distant as if lost in his own thoughts. "Caius is burdened by his past, (y/n). It wasn't an excuse for what he said, but it's important to understand that his emotions are complex."

The echoes of the argument still reverberated in (y/n)'s mind as she stepped out of the castle, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to engulf her. The cold night air stung against her skin, a stark contrast to the heated tension she had left behind. Seeking respite, she wandered through the quiet streets until she found herself on a bridge that spanned a calm river.

Perching on the ledge, her feet hanging over the water, (y/n) let out a deep sigh. The night sky stretched above her, stars flickering like distant beacons. Her thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions – anger, hurt, confusion – and they mingled with the ever-present shadow of her mental health struggles.

Gazing down at the water, (y/n) traced the ripples with her eyes, lost in the rhythm of their gentle dance. Her relationship with the Volturi kings had been a source of joy and turmoil, an intricate dance between love and frustration. But tonight, their argument had unleashed a torrent of emotions she struggled to contain.

Tears welled up in her eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of it all. She had always battled her own inner demons, the darkness that threatened to consume her. Her mental health had been a constant companion, sometimes a gentle whisper and at other times a deafening roar.

As she stared at the water, the tranquility of the scene before her offered a fleeting sense of solace. It was a reminder that even amidst the chaos, there were moments of stillness and beauty. But the struggle within her heart was far from over.

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. Her thoughts drifted to the times of laughter and connection she had shared with the Volturi kings. But they were now overshadowed by the hurtful words and the fractures in their once strong bond. She felt lost in a sea of emotions, uncertain of how to navigate her feelings.

Her mental health struggles, too, gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The battles fought within her own mind often left her feeling exhausted, and tonight was no exception. It was as if her inner turmoil had found its way into her external world, amplifying the pain she felt.

As the moonlight cast its silvery glow over the Volturi castle, a sense of unease settled within its halls. The lower guard had just informed the kings that (y/n) had left the castle, setting their hearts racing with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, Aro, Marcus, and Caius followed the scent that led them through the winding paths of the castle grounds and out into the night.

The scent was a trail of uncertainty, a reflection of the turmoil that had led her to leave. Each step carried them closer to the bridge that spanned the quiet river, and the kings felt their anxiety rise with every passing second.

Approaching the bridge, they saw her figure seated on the edge, her silhouette framed against the moonlit waters below. The wind rustled her hair, and her shoulders seemed weighed down by the burden of her thoughts.

"(Y/n)!" Aro's voice was a mixture of relief and concern as he called out to her, his footsteps slowing.

Hearing their voices, (y/n) turned to face them, her expression a mix of surprise and sadness. The sight of the three kings standing before her felt surreal, a reminder of the complexities of their bond.

Marcus stepped forward, his voice gentle. "We were worried about you, (y/n)."

Caius' gaze was piercing, his eyes reflecting his inner turmoil. "Why did you leave?"

Tears welled up in (y/n)'s eyes as she met Caius' gaze. His voice held a note of desperation that struck a chord deep within her. She had caused them to worry, to fear the worst, and the guilt gnawed at her heart.

"I needed some space," she admitted, her voice wavering with emotion.

Caius' expression softened, his concern evident as he took a step closer. "You scared us, (y/n)."

The bridge seemed to hang in a delicate balance, the emotions of the moment swirling like a storm. And then, with a desperation that seemed to pierce the very air, Caius pleaded, "Please, don't do anything rash."

His words hung heavy, the weight of his concern palpable. (Y/n) could see the fear in his eyes, the raw vulnerability he rarely revealed. It was a reminder that their bond, as fractured as it was, still held a deep connection.

"I sorry, Caius," she chocked, her voice trembling. "I sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried like a broken record.

The air seemed to thicken with tension as (y/n) and the three kings stood on the bridge, their emotions swirling in the night. Caius' plea had pierced the silence, his concern palpable, and the weight of his words hung in the air like a heavy shroud.

Caius took a tentative step forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with (y/n). His voice was a mixture of remorse and desperation as he spoke, his words cutting through the charged atmosphere.

"Don't you dare apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. This is my fault."

Tears welled up in (y/n)'s eyes as she met Caius' gaze. She felt the truth in his words, the raw sincerity of his regret. But the turmoil within her heart couldn't be silenced by reason alone, and a choked apology escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry, Caius. I'm so sorry."

Caius' frustration seemed to deepen as he closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate and careful. His voice softened, a mixture of tenderness and self-blame.

"Stop apologizing. You don't have to carry this burden."

But (y/n) could only shake her head, the weight of her own emotions bearing down on her. "I'm sorry, Caius. I'm tired."

The words were a whisper, a reflection of her weariness. The constant battles within her own mind, the complexities of their relationship – it all felt like too much to bear.

And then, before anyone could react, a shocking moment unfolded. (Y/n) stepped back, her gaze still locked on Caius, her voice trembling as she whispered, "I'm sorry," one last time.

And then she jumped.

Time seemed to freeze in that agonizing instant, the sound of her body hitting the water echoing in their ears. A primal surge of panic coursed through them, their hearts racing as they stared at the spot where she had been.

Aro, Marcus, and Caius were paralyzed, the shock of the moment rendering them immobile. The bridge that had once represented a moment of reflection had now become the stage for a heart-wrenching tragedy.

As reality settled in, Caius' expression twisted with a mixture of grief and disbelief. He felt as though his very soul had been torn asunder, his voice frozen in his throat.

"(Y/n)?" Aro's voice was a whisper, his eyes wide with shock.

The ripples on the water were the only answer, their gentle dance a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions that roiled within them.

[aneertawrites]

Shadows of Our Pride

Xavier x fem!Reader

!pride and prejudice remake

a/n : i’m so sorry that this chapter was so bad 🫶🏻 i’ve been feeling a little unmotivated but i can’t allow myself to not finish this fanfic for u guys!

Chapter 4

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 5

The rain had grown steadier as the morning wore on — soft and insistent against the drawing room windows, wrapping the house in a hush that was almost too delicate to disturb. Pale light filtered through sheer curtains, washing the room in a gentle grey, and the low crackle of the fireplace offered the only real warmth. Yet the room was far from quiet.

Your sisters were a flurry of energy — cheeks flushed with the afterglow of the ball, fingers twisting through ribbons and retelling each moment as if the night had been a fairytale written just for them. Lydia laughed loudest, naturally, though her words were more concerned with whether the punch had been spiked than any single gentleman. Kitty offered conflicting accounts of who had stepped on whose hem. And Jane — lovely, serene Jane — had barely spoken at all, but her eyes gave her away. She sat tucked into a corner of the settee, a faint smile playing on her lips, her hands still folded in her lap in a way that betrayed how tightly she was holding in the memory of Mr. Alexei’s hand on hers.

Your mother had joined the fray too, of course, reclining in her chair like a queen triumphant. She was in rare spirits, fanning herself as though the excitement of so many eligible gentlemen under one roof had yet to wear off. “I declare, never has there been such an assembly,” she sighed for the fifth time. “All of you girls will be married by Christmas.”

You were silent.

You sat a little apart from them all, teacup cradled in your hands, eyes trained on the window. The conversation washed over you like a wave you didn’t care to wade into. The warm scent of rosehip tea lingered in the air, but you hardly tasted it. You were elsewhere — caught in the memory of a dance, a touch, a gaze that had said far too much without speaking at all.

Mr. Xavier.

The name alone felt like a disruption. You recalled the firm line of his jaw, the slow calculation in his gaze, the way his voice never quite gave anything away — and yet somehow, it had said everything. That one dance should not have mattered. Not with a man so cold, so proud, so utterly insufferable in every earlier encounter.

And yet — his hand at your waist had felt too steady. His silence too loaded. And the way he had looked at you as the music swelled, like he was afraid of the very thing he was drawn toward… you had not been able to stop thinking about it since.

Which is why, when your mother said your name, you startled.

“Mr. Collins,” she beamed, gesturing toward the doorway, “has arrived, and asked most urgently to speak with you. Privately.”

You blinked. “Now?”

“He insists it’s of great importance,” your mother said, her smile stretching unnervingly. “I dare say we know what for. Do try not to appear too eager — it does not suit a modest young woman.”

You stood slowly, every inch of your spine stiffening with dread. As you left the room, your sisters’ giggles trailed behind you like ribbons. You half expected Jane to look up, to give some small sign of warning, but she was lost again in her own reverie — Mr. Alexei still dancing behind her eyes.

You found Mr. Collins standing in the smaller drawing room, near the fireplace, where he had likely been rehearsing this moment for hours. His posture was awkwardly stiff, hands clasped behind his back like a schoolboy reciting scripture.

“My dear cousin,” he began, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “I cannot tell you how delighted I am to see you. What a… fine morning, is it not?”

“It is,” you said evenly, not bothering to sit. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes, yes!” He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I shall be brief, as brevity is often a virtue praised by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whom I serve with the deepest humility. But allow me first to preface — I am aware of my position, of my future inheritance, of the great fortune that will one day fall to me — and thus, to you.”

He paused, expectant. When you said nothing, he continued.

“I believe it only fitting that I, as your cousin and heir, should extend the offer of marriage to you. It is, after all, the natural course of things. A union both practical and advantageous for all parties — your family not least of all.”

The silence that followed was profound.

Your gaze remained fixed on him, but your mind had all but detached. You felt as though you were standing outside your own body, watching this scene unfold like a play — poorly cast and worse written.

“You are proposing to me,” you said at last, the words flat, almost amused. “After one week of acquaintance.”

“Indeed!” he said proudly. “It is the best time — before another claims you, and before your affections can lead you to less… sensible choices.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly.

“I see.”

He waited, hands outstretched like a man expecting applause.

And then — you laughed. Quietly. Not out of cruelty, but disbelief.

“Mr. Collins,” you said, “you mistake me entirely. I have no intention of marrying you.”

His smile twitched. “Ah — yes — you are merely following custom. A modest refusal, a show of reluctance. But I assure you, there is no need for such performance. I am prepared to accept you — even now — in all your charming pride.”

You blinked, your patience dissolving by the second.

“I am not performing,” you said sharply. “I am refusing. I do not wish to marry you. Not now. Not ever.”

He stared at you, the color draining from his face. “But-but surely you must see the practicality, the honour, in becoming my wife. Your situation,your lack of prospects, your age—”

“Say another word, Mr. Collins,” you said, voice cold, “and I swear I will embarrass you beyond recovery.”

His jaw clicked shut.

You folded your hands in front of you, breath steady, chin lifted. “You speak of practicality. I speak of choice. And I would rather remain unmarried for the rest of my life than endure a single day married to a man who sees me as a convenient obligation.”

There was no anger in your tone — only clarity. And in the wake of it, he stood silent. Swallowed.

“I see,” he said eventually, voice tight. “I misjudged you. Clearly.”

“Yes,” you said. “Clearly.”

With stiff shoulders and a wounded pride, Mr. Collins turned and left the room — the echo of his retreating steps more satisfying than you would have liked to admit.

When you reentered the drawing room, your mother’s expression turned thunderous. But before she could speak, you took your place again beside the window. You lifted your tea — now cold — and sipped it as though nothing had happened.

Your mother sat up so quickly she nearly spilled her tea, the feather on her cap trembling with indignation before she had even spoken a word. Jane looked up in gentle concern, while Lydia and Kitty leaned in eagerly, like hounds catching the scent of scandal. You closed the door behind you, slowly, deliberately, and took your seat by the window once more, hands folded neatly in your lap.

And then — as expected — the explosion came.

“You rejected him?!”

The silence shattered.

“I did,” you replied simply, still not meeting her gaze. “Quite clearly, I think.”

She gasped as though you had just told her the house was aflame. “Rejected?! Mr. Collins, our cousin, the heir to Longbourn, the only thing standing between your father’s death and all of us being cast into the street! Oh! I am ruined! We are all ruined!”

You blinked. “Mother, he proposed out of duty, not affection—”

“And what of it?” she cried, fanning herself furiously. “Do you think duty feeds a family less than affection does? Do you imagine a roof over our heads will grow from sentiment?”

Jane stood, her voice a calming balm in the storm. “Mama, perhaps we should—”

“Do not defend her!” your mother snapped, her face turning redder with each syllable. “She thinks herself above Mr. Collins — above the rest of us, I suppose! But what marriage do you expect to make, with that sharp tongue and that look of disdain you wear like a second bodice?”

You said nothing. Not because she was right — but because if you opened your mouth, something far more dangerous might slip out.

“It was a perfectly reasonable match!” she wailed, pacing the rug like a general robbed of victory. “Any other sensible girl would’ve leapt at the offer! But no, you had to be difficult — always so high-minded, always so… so proud!”

Lydia snorted, barely concealing her amusement, and Kitty elbowed her, giggling behind her hand. You glanced toward Jane, who only offered you a sad, knowing look — one that asked nothing and said everything.

Your mother continued on — half sobbing, half shouting — lamenting the future that had just slipped through her fingers. “Oh, how will I show my face at the Meryton Assembly now? What will Lady Lucas say when she hears of this? And she will hear of it! That man will go running to her the minute he leaves this house!”

“And I hope he does,” you said suddenly, voice cool and even, slicing through the theatrics like a blade through silk.

Your mother stopped. She blinked. “What did you say?”

You finally turned to look at her. “Let her have him.”

The room went utterly still.

“I beg your pardon?” your mother asked, though her voice had dropped dangerously low.

You straightened your spine. “If Lady Lucas’s Charlotte finds Mr. Collins acceptable, then I hope he proposes to her before he reaches the end of the lane. I hope she says yes. And I hope they live in… duty-bound harmony until the end of their days.”

Your mother gasped. Jane covered her mouth to keep from smiling.

“Unbelievable,” your mother whispered, clutching at the edge of the settee. “A disaster. I have five daughters to marry off, and this is the behavior I must endure from the second eldest unmarried? You’ll see — mark my words — one day, you’ll regret this. And when you do, don’t come crying to me!”

“I never do,” you said softly, almost too softly to be heard.

The moment stretched taut. No one moved. And then your mother, letting out an affronted squeak, stood and swept from the room with all the grandeur of a woman who believed herself sorely wronged by fate.

When the door slammed, it left behind silence — and your sisters in varying degrees of wide-eyed amusement or sympathy. Lydia snorted again. Kitty tried to hide a laugh. And Jane, ever graceful, touched your hand with the gentlest of pressure.

“You did the right thing,” she said quietly.

You looked back toward the window, the rain now a fine mist against the glass, your reflection faint in the dim light.

Perhaps you had. Perhaps you hadn’t.

The morning had been quiet — deceptively so. A pale winter sun filtered through the clouds, casting a frosted glow across the countryside and the front garden, where the hedges were still damp with last night’s rain. You sat curled in the drawing room window seat with a book open in your lap, though your eyes hadn’t moved past the same paragraph in nearly half an hour.

Your thoughts had wandered again.

Not to Mr. Collins, despite your mother’s continued dramatics and thinly veiled jabs over breakfast. No — your mind had gone in another direction entirely. One with quieter footsteps and sharper silences. You hated how frequently your thoughts betrayed you now, how often they conjured a certain look across a ballroom, a certain dance, a certain man whose every word — or lack thereof — now lingered like a phantom in your chest.

So when the knock came at the door and a familiar voice echoed in the foyer, you welcomed the distraction.

“Charlotte Lucas is here to see you,” the maid announced, a touch of surprise in her voice.

You stood at once, smoothing down your skirts. “Please, show her in.”

Charlotte entered with the briskness of someone who’d walked a fair way, her cheeks flushed with cold and eyes bright — though not in the usual, reserved sort of way you’d come to associate with her. There was something oddly… nervous about her smile. She took both of your hands in hers when you greeted her, and held on a moment too long.

You felt it before she said it.

“Shall we walk?” she asked. “The air is quite clear this morning, and I find it easier to speak when the walls aren’t listening.”

That was how she phrased it. When the walls aren’t listening.

You took your cloaks and stepped outside together, the gravel crunching beneath your boots as you made your way down the path and onto the frozen lane. For a time, you simply walked in silence — Charlotte breathing in the chill, as if gathering courage, and you watching the frost-glazed hedgerows pass by, waiting.

“I’ve come to tell you something,” she said finally, folding her hands in front of her. “And I would rather you hear it from me than from… anyone else.”

You nodded once. “Go on.”

She hesitated. Then, “Mr. Collins has proposed to me.”

Your breath caught, not sharply, not dramatically, but like a quiet door swinging open too quickly, letting in wind you hadn’t braced for.

“And?” you asked.

Her eyes didn’t meet yours. “I accepted.”

There it was.

You stopped walking. Slowly. As though the world itself had slowed down around you. Charlotte turned back to face you, her expression unreadable — not ashamed, not proud, just… resolved.

“Say something,” she murmured.

You studied her for a long moment. “He only left two days ago.”

“I know.”

“And you accepted him?”

“I did.”

You weren’t sure what you felt first. Shock? Disappointment that your friend wasn’t marrying for love? It was less a betrayal than it was a strange ache — the kind that came from seeing someone you loved make a choice you couldn’t understand, but had no right to stop.

“He proposed to me, Charlotte,” you said, not accusing, but still stunned. “I rejected him. And now…”

She nodded, once. “I know how it looks.”

“It’s not about appearances. It’s about… him. You don’t care for him.”

“No,” she said plainly. “But I don’t expect love. You know that. I never have.”

That silenced you.

She stepped closer, voice low. “I am twenty-seven. My prospects are limited. He has a stable position, a promise of inheritance, and… a desire for a wife who will not challenge him. I will not. It is a match of practicality.”

The wind picked up slightly, tugging at your cloak. You stared down the lane, blinking hard.

“You could do better,” you said quietly.

“I could also do worse,” she replied, not unkindly.

And that was the thing about Charlotte — she wasn’t deluded. She didn’t harbor fantasies of sweeping romance or soul-deep connection. She had always lived in the realm of reality, accepting what the world would offer her rather than dreaming of what it wouldn’t.

But still, something inside you buckled. Because you wanted more for her, even if she didn’t want it for herself. You wanted more than polite silence and awkward dinners with a husband who spoke only of Lady Catherine and failed metaphors.

“I hope you’ll be happy,” you said at last, though the words came out stiffer than you’d meant them to. Not because you were jealous, or bitter, goodness no. But because you were saddened. Saddened that women had to settle for security.

Charlotte’s lips curled, just barely. “Happiness is a luxury. I’ll have contentment. That will do.”

You nodded, heart heavy. “Will you be moving to Hunsford soon?”

“As soon as arrangements are made.”

Another silence passed.

“Will you visit?” she asked.

“I’ll visit as soon as I possibly can,” you said truthfully.

She reached for your hand again, squeezing it. “I wanted to tell you because I value you. I didn’t want this to stand between us.”

“Nothing as simple or silly as a man would stand between our friendship, Charlotte,” you said softly, squeezing her hand in return. “Believe me.”

The house was too quiet when you stepped back inside.

The wind had followed you in — a brief, biting gust that tousled the drapes and whispered along the floorboards before dying somewhere near the hearth. You shut the door gently behind you, your fingers numb around the latch. The air was warm compared to outside, but it did nothing for the weight you carried now — Charlotte’s words still echoing in your chest like a bell tolling far off in the fog.

You barely had time to remove your gloves before the stillness struck you as wrong. The house was never loud, exactly, but there was always movement. Lydia’s humming, Kitty’s stomping about upstairs, your mother fussing over nothing — even silence had a kind of rhythm to it here.

But this was different. This silence was… held.

You stepped through the corridor, the chill of the hallway giving way to the faint scent of firewood and rosewater. And then, just before the door to the drawing room came into view, you heard it — a soft, broken sound. Like someone trying not to cry, and failing.

You paused at the threshold.

Jane sat alone on the settee, her figure poised but trembling. A letter lay in her lap, its edges crumpled from where her fingers clutched too tightly. Her head was bowed slightly, a few golden curls slipping from her bun to frame her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were rimmed red.

“Jane?”

She startled — barely — and looked up with a smile that tried too hard. “Oh. You’re back.”

You crossed the room in a heartbeat and knelt before her, reaching for her hand. “What happened? What is it?”

She hesitated, and for a moment you thought she might deflect. Might brush it off with one of her usual gentlenesses, a soft-spoken excuse. But then her lips trembled again, and she held out the letter.

“Aurelia wrote,” she whispered.

You took it from her slowly. The seal had already been broken. You read it in silence, line by line, each sentence falling like a stone:

“Dearest Miss Jane,

It is with regret that I inform you my brother, Mr. Alexei, and I have departed Netherfield for London, along with Mr Xavier and Alora. There were sudden matters of business which required his attention, and we shall not be returning this season…”

You stopped reading.

Your eyes flicked back to Jane, who watched you like a child trying to be brave — and failing. Her composure, the one she always wore so well, had cracked just enough for the truth to bleed through.

“He didn’t say goodbye?” you asked, voice low.

She shook her head. “Not a word. Not even… a note. Nothing.”

You closed the letter with trembling hands.

You had seen them together. Had felt something growing between them — quiet, tentative, but genuine. That kind of spark didn’t lie. And yet… this.

“Perhaps…” you began, but trailed off.

Perhaps what?

Perhaps he was called away suddenly? Perhaps he would write in time? Perhaps he meant to return?

Every perhaps felt hollow. Every one an insult to her tears.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jane said, wiping her eyes carefully with a handkerchief. “That I misread him. That I let myself believe something that wasn’t real.”

You opened your mouth to argue, that she was wrong, but she held up a hand.

“But I didn’t imagine it. He looked at me as though I mattered. He listened. And it was so rare, so… lovely. And now — now I don’t know if I was foolish to hope, or if something else has happened that I cannot see.”

You sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into you, finally letting herself cry freely.

“I don’t understand it,” she whispered. “I truly believed he cared.”

You didn’t respond — not immediately. Because you didn’t know. Because it made no sense. Because Mr. Alexei had looked at Jane like she was sunlight incarnate — and men didn’t look at women like that if they meant to disappear.

And yet. He was gone.

“I’m so tired of pretending things don’t hurt,” Jane said quietly. “Of being the gentle one. The kind one. Today… I don’t want to be composed.”

You pulled her tighter, resting your chin lightly atop her hair.

“Then don’t be,” you murmured. “Not with me.”

Xavier

The carriage jolted as it passed over a patch of uneven ground, the rhythm of hooves against wet earth muffled by the thick velvet lining of the cabin. Still, the movement did little to settle the knot forming low in Xavier’s gut. He stared out the window, watching grey fields blur into one another beneath a pale sky, the countryside fading behind them like a closing door.

Across from him, Aurelia sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her usual air of poise subdued. Beside her, Alora leaned against the window with her chin tucked into her scarf, silent for once. And next to Xavier, Alexei sat rigid and quiet, his elbows propped on his knees, gloved fingers laced tightly together like he needed the pressure just to keep still.

It had been Xavier’s suggestion to leave. And now he wasn’t sure he could swallow the taste of it.

“She didn’t even know,” Alexei said after a long stretch of silence, his voice rough from disuse. “Jane. We just left.”

Xavier didn’t answer.

“I could’ve… I should’ve written something,” Alexei muttered. “Said something.”

“You still can,” Xavier offered quietly, though it rang hollow even to his own ears.

Alexei laughed under his breath, a bitter little sound. “Oh yes. A lovely letter of cowardice. ‘Forgive me, I fled without a word because I lacked the spine to tell you I care.’ That’ll go over well.”

“There’s no need,” Aurelia supplied, looking all too smug. “I wrote. Jane knows.”

Xavier looked away, back to the misted glass. Trees blurred past — bare, brittle things, stripped down to the bone by winter. His own reflection stared back at him faintly, pale and still.

He felt it too — not just the echo of guilt, but the ache of it.

And that cut deeper.

“You pushed for this,” Alexei said quietly, without accusation — but the truth of it sat heavy between them.

“I know.”

“She would’ve waited,” Alexei murmured. “I know she would’ve.”

Xavier closed his eyes for a beat.

So would you.

You would’ve waited. And if he had asked — if he had said anything at all — you might have stayed a little closer instead of drifting so far away in his memory already.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d let himself hope until he killed it.

Now all he could hear was the silence after your dance, the absence of your voice as you stood apart from the others. How he’d glanced toward you more than once that night, like a man pacing the edge of a cliff but too afraid to fall.

He had proposed their departure for reason. Too many eyes. Too many questions. Too much… vulnerability. But beneath all that, if he was honest — he’d proposed it because he believed Jane to be… indifferent to his friend. He would never want to see his companion distraught and hurt. So… he did this for the best.

And now here he sat, with nothing to show for it but the quiet remorse blooming like frost across his ribs.

“She had the softest laugh,” Alexei said suddenly, more to himself than anyone. “Like the first note of a song you didn’t know you loved yet.”

Xavier didn’t look at him. He couldn’t. Because in his mind, you were standing beneath the candlelight in that drawing room — not laughing, not smiling, just watching. Always watching.

And damn him, he wished you hadn’t.

Because now he couldn’t stop seeing you.

masterlist

Taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme @m00nchildwrites

[thatlotuscookie]

hello how are u doing😊 could you please write for dabi x fem!reader who is a solo villain. and before you meet your soulmate u meet a chibi version of them, and you usually meet them when you turn 18, but reader didn't so she thought that she doesn't have a soulmate and then one day chibi version of dabi appears out of nowhere, and the chibi has dabi's personality and that's super cute because of its size. and i would like this to be about how reader deals with tiny chibi and how it warms up to her

✧･ﾟ: a/n : hiii anon!! im doing great and i hope you're doing good yourself. thank you for requesting! this is so adorable :33 i hope you enjoy, and that i captured everything in the right way<33

✧ Title: ✧ Tiny Flames ✧ ✧ Characters: Chibi!Dabi x Reader (Fem!Reader) ✧ Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: You’ve made a name for yourself as a feared solo villain. As your eighteenth birthday arrives, you eagerly await the appearance of your soulmate's chibi form. But when midnight strikes without any sign, you resign yourself to the belief that perhaps soulmates are just a myth. However, after a particularly exhausting mission, a sudden flash of light brings Chibi Dabi into your life. ✧ Content Warnings: Minor language?, themes of villainy ✧ WC: 1612 words // 9.4k chars

In the shadowy underbelly of society, where chaos thrived and villains ruled, you carved your own path as a solo villain. You had built a reputation—feared and respected by heroes and fellow villains alike. Thriving in the thrill of the chase, you relished the freedom that came with being an independent agent of chaos. No one dictated your actions; no alliances held you back. You worked alone, and you liked it that way.

Your name was whispered in hushed tones, often accompanied by tales of your cunning plans and daring heists. You had mastered the art of deception, slipping through the cracks unnoticed, leaving a trail of confusion and destruction in your wake. Yet, despite the adrenaline rush of your dangerous lifestyle, a nagging void lingered within you—a yearning for something more profound, a connection that eluded you in the chaotic world you navigated.

Every year, on your birthday, you awaited the moment that would signal the arrival of your soulmate’s chibi form—the tiny, whimsical representation of the person destined to be by your side. It was said that the chibi would appear to you when you turned eighteen, guiding you toward your true love. However, as the clock struck midnight on your eighteenth birthday and no chibi appeared, your heart sank.

Was it possible that you were destined to be alone? The thought gnawed at you, but you quickly pushed it aside, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone. You were a villain; you thrived in solitude. But deep down, the ache of loneliness lingered like a shadow, reminding you that something vital was missing from your life.

Months passed, and you resigned yourself to the belief that perhaps soulmates were just a myth. You threw yourself deeper into your villainous pursuits, planning heists and wreaking havoc on unsuspecting heroes. Yet, even in your most triumphant moments, a part of you longed for connection—a partner to share in the exhilaration of your exploits.

One fateful evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you returned to your dimly lit lair, exhausted yet exhilarated. You had successfully executed a plan that would send shockwaves through the hero community, but instead of feeling accomplished, you felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. As you slumped against the wall, letting the adrenaline fade, a sudden flash of blue light illuminated the room, causing you to blink in surprise.

When the light faded, your heart raced as you stared at the tiny figure standing before you. He was a chibi version of Dabi—small, spiky-haired, and exuding an intense aura that was oddly familiar. He stood no taller than your hand, his fierce glare somehow managing to hold the same intensity as the original Dabi.

“Who the hell are you?” Chibi Dabi demanded, his voice laced with a cold edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You blinked, half-expecting to wake up from a strange dream. “I—I’m Y/N. Your soulmate, apparently?” Your voice came out more incredulous than you intended.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” he retorted, his icy demeanor unfazed. “I don’t need anyone.”

His response stung more than you expected, but you were determined not to show it. “Well, you’re here now, so what do we do?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

He shrugged, crossing his tiny arms over his chest defiantly. “Do whatever you want. I’m just here because I have to be.”

As the days turned into weeks, the bond between you and Chibi Dabi grew stronger, but not in the way you had hoped. He remained aloof, often retreating into his own world, indifferent to your presence. Despite your attempts to engage him, he would simply roll his eyes or give you snarky remarks that cut through the air like a cold wind.

One evening, after a particularly hard day, you returned home feeling defeated. The weight of your actions pressed heavily on your conscience, and you found it hard to shake off the guilt.

“Why do you look so miserable?” Chibi Dabi asked, his tone lacking any real concern.

“Just thinking about things,” you replied, trying to dismiss it.

“Thinking? That’s lame. Just burn something and move on.” He leaned back, his tiny form perched on the edge of your desk, looking like a fierce little king on a throne.

You laughed softly, but your heart felt heavy. “It’s not that easy. Sometimes it feels like we’re just doing bad things without any real purpose.”

Chibi Dabi’s gaze hardened, and for a moment, the intensity of his demeanor threatened to swallow you whole. “Then why do it? You’re the one choosing this life.”

His bluntness made you sigh, feeling the sting of truth in his words. “Because it’s all I know,” you confessed. “But I don’t want to be alone in this.”

“Too bad. That’s your problem,” he replied, crossing his tiny arms again but failing to hide the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Despite the hurtful nature of his response, you felt a flicker of determination ignite within you. “I’m not going anywhere, Dabi. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.”

His eyes narrowed, but for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something softer beneath the cold exterior. Yet, he quickly masked it with indifference, turning away. “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to hold your hand.”

As the days passed, Chibi Dabi continued to be an enigma—cold, distant, yet somehow intriguing. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him, the fiery spirit that flickered beneath his tough exterior. With each passing day, you sought to break through the wall he had built around himself, determined to warm the icy heart of your chibi soulmate.

One evening, after an encounter with a rival villain left you rattled, you returned home, only to find Chibi Dabi sitting on the table, legs swinging in mid-air. He eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “What happened? You look like you lost a fight.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t lose, but I didn’t win either. It was… complicated.”

Chibi Dabi leaned forward, his expression suddenly serious. “Complicated? You mean weak.”

“Dabi!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-frustrated. “I’m not weak. I just—”

“Then stop whining about it,” he interrupted, a small flame flickering to life in his hand. “If you’re going to be a villain, act like one.”

“Easy for you to say,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light despite the hurt lingering beneath. “You’re all fire and no fear.”

His expression softened slightly, though he quickly masked it with irritation. “Maybe you need a little fire, too.” He stood up, his tiny fists clenched at his sides, glaring defiantly at you. “You don’t need to wallow. You’re better than that.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, despite the typical coldness of his personality. “Thanks, Dabi. I appreciate it.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t dismiss your gratitude. Instead, he seemed to regard you with a flicker of admiration. “Just don’t let it get to your head.”

Days turned into weeks, and with every shared moment, your bond grew deeper. Dabi’s once-icy demeanor began to soften as he discovered the warmth of companionship, while you learned to embrace your vulnerabilities. Though you remained villains in a chaotic world, you found solace in each other’s presence.

One night, as the two of you sat together on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating the room, you decided to watch one of your favorite movies—a thrilling tale of heroes and villains in a world much like your own. You settled into your spot, and Dabi perched on your shoulder, his tiny form fitting perfectly against you.

“Why are we watching this trash?” he grumbled, crossing his tiny arms as the action began to unfold on screen.

You chuckled. “It’s just a movie, Dabi. Just enjoy it.”

“I’ll enjoy it when I see some real fire,” he shot back, but the way he leaned closer to you hinted at his interest.

As the story unfolded, you found yourself glancing down at Dabi. His fierce expression mirrored his adult self, but you noticed the way his little eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was fully engaged, despite his earlier complaints.

During a particularly intense scene, you felt him tense up, gripping your shirt tightly. “What’s going to happen?” he muttered, clearly invested despite his attempts to act tough.

You laughed softly. “You actually care, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” he exclaimed, his face turning a shade of red that contrasted with his usual cool demeanor. “I just want to see how it ends, that’s all.”

As the movie progressed, you noticed that Chibi Dabi began to shift closer, using your shoulder as a makeshift pillow. His tiny form curled up against you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a stark contrast to the cold exterior he often projected.

When the credits rolled, you found yourself smiling down at Dabi, who was now fast asleep, his tiny face relaxed and peaceful. You reached down to gently stroke his spiky hair, a sense of warmth enveloping you.

“Guess you really enjoyed that, huh?” you murmured, your heart swelling with affection for the tiny villain.

Dabi stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. In that moment, you realized that the icy barrier around his heart was slowly melting, revealing a warmth that matched the flicker of fire within him.

You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but as you watched him sleep, a sense of peace washed over you. Things would be okay.

[poorgirlinpoorworld]

Ideas for gally fics

Pls use them as you please and tag me if you can, im dislectic and english is not my first language so i really cant write but i love to read them - im new to the fandom so pls send help send love and send nud-

- gally and you are together for some time, you didnt announce it but everybody knew. That day u noticed that boys are smirking in your direction all day, joking under their noses and then looking away. First u tried to ignore it, but one time u catch one of the gladers after looking at you, looking in the direction you knew well - builders working station. And then you saw him… gally, choping wood without a shirt. It wasnt anything new, but when he turn around so u could see all his back you felt as your face started to become red end hot from embarasment. On his back were very visiable still fresh red scraches from last night you spent togheter… and everybody saw them. And something about y/n going to tell him to cover up but he started smirking liking that other boys could see them

- i would love to read gally pov or third pov idk about moments after y/n and thomas with boys left glade to search for exit, when he stayd but couldnt imagine to live without y/n something like i watchd them leave, watchd her leave but i was just standing there looking at the doors i dont know how long hoping for dont know what. Others who stayd with me started working organazing cleaning anything just to do something but i couldnt, i was just standing there. But when i heard screams, my body moved without thinking, just bolted straight through the doors, through the maze. I felt pain in my legs in my lungs in my stomatch.. but the worst pain i felt in my heart with every scream i heard. I didnt know where i was going but i had to find her to tell her im sorry, that i love her, that i want to be with her forever And then he saw a griever got stung and the rest everybody knows

- i love true or dare in glade fics y/n was sunshine of the glade, everybody loved her, some like friend but some more. She was always smiling and laughing, she was warm to anyone and would help anyone in glade. So ofc even the most grupmy gally fell for her. One time on bonfire night some gladers were playing true or dare, small group of friend - y/n, newt, fry, winston, zart, clint, jeff and minho who came up with the idea of playing. Others either were already asleep or were watching ring, in witch gally was curently fighting Ben. After some time of playing it was minho turn „y/n true or dare” he said looking at y/n. „Dare” she said with wide smile, „I dare you to choose i person from our group to kiss” minho said with a smirk on his lips. Y/n was stunt for a sec but then she said „you didnt presice from witch group i can choose soooo in reality i can choose from all group of gladers?” She knew what he meant, he wanted her to choose from players of the game but there was only one boy she wanted to kiss so if she have to bend the rules a little bit so be it. Before Minho could object y/n was already walking toward the ring. „Gally can you come over for a sec?” y/n said looking at the builder who just won a fight. „Yeah, whats up?” he said trying not to look to happy that she was talking to him. When he came over to stand in front of her she said „can you bend over a little?”. He gave her questioning look, but he was a lot taller than her so he did as she askd. Just as his face was just centimeters from her she said almost wispering „i hope you wont be angry at me”. „Why would I-„ but before he could finish she stood on her toes to close the gap between them and then kissed him. And here i see two endings, 1. She said to him it was dare but that she likes him and always wanted to kiss him, he is happy so happy he hugs her swirl around and the live happy ever after, 2. She said to him it was a dare but before she could explain to him that SHE choose him bc she likes him he gets mad, he asumes that was some sort of a joke kiss the grupmy and then lough at him he screams at her, she cries then he leaves, some time later someone help him realize what really happen and he tries to apology to her, he says to her hat he always liked her but he is insecure, she forgive him, then they kiss again and live happy ever after

- last one and here i put warning: torture and suicide Its like at the end of Scotch trials (movies) when wicked takes minho but they take y/n instead or they take both idk, they dont put her with everyone else but with berg the fly her straight to last city and starts experiments on her right away. When she expirence the tortures of seeing deaths of her friends day after day after day she was capable to find a „loop hole” in simulation, just sec after they put her in state of halucination, just before she was about to see another death she would commit suicide which would crash simulation. But wicked still tried every day for months, so all this time every day she would commit suicide in all sorta of ways. And here i would see gally with his new group being caught by wicked or something like that, he would be transporter to cells by guards and when they pass someone olso being transported by guards he could not believe, it was… her. But she looked like ghost of herself and it broke his heart. Then i would put some history how the escape with someone help and how gally rescured her. But at base they wouldn’t just have happy ending together. She was destroyed by months of killing herself… and because simulations were so real to her she would constantly have panic attacks that she still in lab and tried to kill herself to stop simulation. And only Gally would calm her down. after two or three months Thomas and others would come and story would continue

It’s my first time writing anything in english so dont hate