#((if someone told him what the future held for him in just a few short months i don't he'd believe them!))

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/713538477842710528/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“I-I,” Randall began, voice becoming suddenly intensely dry as his mind went hopelessly blank, unsure of how to respond to these sweet words, this earnest praise: Did she really think he was so wonderful? Was he really as spectacular as she thought he was? It was difficult for him to wrap his head around, to know that someone (especially someone as wonderful as her) would think so...highly of someone like him!

“I...I can’t imagine my life without you either, Emily,” he finally managed to say, eyes lingering briefly on their hands (how well they fit together... he realized, quietly amazed by this fact, as well as the sensation of her soft, warm hand against his) before looking up into those beautiful china-blue eyes and admitting, “And I...I don’t want to. I...in some ways, I...I feel as if...I wasn’t living my life until I met you. Until...until I heard you sing.”

She had brought him to life, there was no denying it: For so long, he was not living, just...existing, really, and only in darkness. It was not until she came to the opera that he truly came to life, and found that life could be beautiful. Her voice led him out of the darkness and into the light, and he would always, always be grateful to her for it. He never wanted to go back to that darkness ever again, and he hoped, with her in his life, he never would.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway.  Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate. 

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

[zweetpea]

so please imagine if you will…

CW: Babies

Imagine You and Gojo as teens. Him being a total player and you being his “innocent” chaotic junior by a year.

Imagine you’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on. Him with all his... stuff... and you with... let's say with a Nullifying cursed Technique.

Imagine you guys grew up together. You always had an edge on him in a fight up until he unlocked his reversed curse technique during his second year at Jujustu Tech.

Imagine that somewhere in your studies you and Gojo had a heart to heart about your futures. It's late... maybe you guys are pulling an all-nighter. He reveals in a moment of what he perceived as weakness his insecurities being the next head of the Gojo clan brought him. How he didn't feel like he'd ever fall in love. How he knew felt like the higher ups would push an arranged marriage onto him. How he was scared that he wouldn't be a good husband or father. And his biggest fear that any child he did bring into this world would have to face the same hardships he did only without the six eyes to back it up. How he felt guilty for taking that opportunity away from them.

Imagine shifting his head onto your lap in that moment and proposing a deal to him. If you both were single by the time you hit 25 you'd marry each other. That way he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd be a good partner. Or how strong his kids could be. Or what kind of woman the higher ups would try to force him to be with.

Imagine after that day he never went on another date for a decade. waiting for the day you'd get married and he could finally have babies with you to keep the Gojo legacy alive.

Imagine him sabotaging any dates you get over the next decade. Being jealous and possessive of you in front of any guys who might find you attractive. (In his mind it's all of them)

Imagine him never telling you any of this You probably already know

Imagine after a while you move away to pursue a career somewhere else because of how clingy and obsessive Gojo has gotten. Completely forgetting about the promise you made and coincidentally not being able to pursue a real relationship because of being a sorcerer.

Imagine on your 25th birthday you get a text from a random number asking you a bunch of strange questions. "Red velvet's still your favorite cake flavor right?" "Is royal blue and rose gold tacky?" "Is rose gold still your favorite color?" "Out of these options which dress is your favorite?" They're all very short cocktail wedding dressed.

Imagine obviously ignoring this stalker. Going about your day. Maybe getting a few drinks with some friends after their work days were over. And when you uber home a bit tipsy you find someone waiting for you in your living room.

"Sweetheart! You're home! And you're wasted!" Gojo held you and kissed your temple. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and get you to bed."

"Gojo? I'm not drunk I'm just a bit buzzed. How and why are you here?"

"Come on, babe. Call me Satoru! I'm here to celebrate your birthday and our engagement!"

"Huh?"

Imagine how sweet he could be as he picks you up in a princess carry and takes you to the bathroom. Carefully getting you cleaned up and reminding you about your deal, and of course asking if you got his texts. You merely laugh and kiss his cheek.

Imagine how the next morning you wake up and roll over in bed only to come face to chest with him.

"How'd you get in my bed?" You'd smile at him.

"I carried my lovely wife here last night, after she got drunk off her ass."

"I thought I told you to sleep on the couch."

"I was lonely." He'd whine and press his cheek against the top of your head.

Imagine how he'd take care of most of the wedding preparations. (except the dress cause ain't no way you bout to look like some hooker barbie on your big day) And him giving you his mother's wedding ring. Just the two of you and a few close friends having a small, intimate ceremony.

Imagine "Forgetting" to tell the higher ups about the union so they call him in to have a meeting with him telling him that they've selected a woman to be his wife. He laughs in their faces as he pulls out his phone and pulls up a photo of you pregnant with his baby.

Imagine his smirk when they all start to freak out and protest. And oh boy...

Imagine how that smirk falls when one of them suggests that the baby isn't his...

Imagine him coming home all bloody. His smile as wide as ever as he informs you that "It's not mine" or his rather. And how you just hand him some new clothes and push him towards the shower.

Imagine how thrilled he is when he finally gets to hold his baby in his arms. The silent vindication he feels seeing as the baby looks exactly like him.

"I spend 12 hours squeezing you out of my body and you have the audacity to look like your father. You really are a Gojo."

Just please Imagine it all for me if you will

[pawnshopbleus]

The Morning After

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Summary - After the events of On Top, Tigris has a talk with ​Coriolanus.

Warnings - mentions of sex, fluff, not beta read

Author's Note - This is going to be very short and sweet because Thanksgiving break is ending and I have school tomorrow (I don’t want to go back. Someone please save me.)

The sun came up and shined over all of Panem. Its golden rays snuck through Coriolanus’s window, accentuating the curves of your body. Last night was one of the best nights he’s had in a while. He held you close, not wanting to let you go. He could stay like this forever. His skin could mend itself into his sheets and he wouldn’t care. As long as he had you by his side. 

You stirred awake a little while later. Even though the sun was up, Coriolanus’s room was still cold. You pulled the sheets closer to your body and yawned. 

“Good morning,” Coriolanus whispered as he kissed the naked skin of your shoulder. 

You let out another yawn in response. “Good morning. What time is it?” 

Coriolanus looked at the pocketwatch on his end table. “It’s ten in the morning.”

Your body shot up. You were supposed to be home two hours ago. Your mother had set up a meeting for you at one of the boutiques in the Capital. You’d expressed interest in working for your own money which made both of your parents proud. Little did they know that the money wasn’t just for you, but for your future with Coriolanus. 

“I have to go,” you said as you threw your clothes back on. Your tardiness wouldn’t be appreciated, but nobody would care. No matter how much you don’t like it, rules don’t apply to people like you. People who could afford to buy ten boutiques and still have money left over. 

You quickly kissed Coriolanus on the cheek before darting out of the Snow residence. 

Coriolanus sighed as he craved the warmth of your body again. He wanted to know why you left his home so fast, but you would tell him. You always tell him everything.

Coriolanus sat up and stretched his sore muscles and joints. He followed your lead and put his clothes back on. As much as he loved you, he didn’t want people to know what the two of you shared last night. Fresh scratch marks lined his back, serving as a reminder of what had conspired only a few hours ago. He hissed as he ran a hand down his back. He was lucky that you had barely missed his stitches. He loved you, but you could be reckless sometimes. 

He slowly opened his door, silently praying that Tigris and Grandma’am were still asleep. He checked around the corner and he couldn’t see anything or anyone. The coast was clear, or so he thought. 

Coriolanus walked into the kitchen with unmatchable swagger and a smug smile on his lips. But when he saw Tigris sitting at the kitchen table with two steaming cups of coffee, he knew he was in trouble. 

“Good morning, Coryo. Have a seat.” Tigris’s tone was calm as always. That eased his mind a little, but he hoped that she wouldn’t talk about what happened last night. 

“Where did you get the coffee?” He slid a mug closer to himself and observed the dark liquid in it. He hadn’t had coffee in a long time. He took a sip of it and let the bitterness settle onto his tongue. He could taste a faint trace of sugar. It was probably the last of the sugar they had in the cupboard, but as the sweetness hit his tongue, all he could think about was you. 

“It was in the basket,” Tigris motioned to the basket on the countertop. 

He remembered that Grandma’am had told him about the basket in passing. He hadn't registered that you were the one who brought the basket for them.

“Now, Coryo. We need to talk.” Tigris took one of Coriolanus’s hands into hers. Just like Coryo, Tigris has slim and bony hands. Their fingers interlaced and Tigris looked into his eyes. “The walls aren’t that thick. I know what happened last night.” 

Coriolanus closed his eyes in embarrassment. He couldn’t look his cousin in the eyes. Now it was evident that the Universe didn’t answer his prayers. 

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. I just want to make sure you’re being safe.” 

“Yes, we are,” Coriolanus said as he continued to avoid eye contact. Last night was the first time he didn't pull out. The two of you were clean and there was a low chance that you would get pregnant. 

“Good,” Tigris let go of his hand and continued, “So, did you do everything I told you?”

Tigris had always been there for Coriolanus. She was his number-one supporter and confidant. No matter what, Coriolanus would trust Tigris with anything, but sometimes Tigris would do and say things that made Coriolanus want to scream.

“Tigris!” Coriolanus hid his head in his hands. 

Tigris smirked at her younger cousin's antics. She was proud of him for finding someone to love him as he was. Coriolanus had so much to offer to the world, but not enough money for the world to take him seriously. 

The rest of the morning was spent with the two of them laughing and smiling as their conversation shifted away from sex. Even Though the universe didn't answer Coriolanus' petty prayers, he is glad for one thing though. He’s grateful that the universe brought him the most powerful, beautiful, strong, and caring women in all of Panem. 

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

@positivelyholland @klausluvshybrids I hope you guys liked it 🤓

[krirebr]

More Than This 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap. 

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

 The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left. 

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but. 

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be. 

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you. 

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment. 

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream. 

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. 

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed. 

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

 You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all. 

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell. 

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

   The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle. 

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary. 

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day. 

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. 

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.” 

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do. 

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun. 

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables. 

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server. 

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne. 

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.” 

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end. 

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course. 

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.” 

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least. 

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes. 

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night. 

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come. 

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

Tag list is open

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[sometimesiwritebadly]

Out of the Spotlight (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Garcia does a little totally harmless snooping and discovers Spencer’s secret girlfriend is a movie star.

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: has it been almost two years since i posted on here? maybeee don’t worry about it. this is just pure fluff and some penelope/derek shenanigans

Masterlist

~~~

Penelope Garcia is, occasionally, too curious for her own good. She really doesn’t mean to snoop in her friend’s lives like this, but to be fair, she didn’t know she was snooping in Spencer’s life when she started. She thought she was just learning more about her most recent celebrity obsession; rising star and incredible actress, Y/N Y/L/N. She hadn’t even gone too far with it yet, really! It all started after she’d left the movie theater, where she finally got to see Y/N’s newest movie with Derek. He dropped her off at home, and she decided to follow the actress on instagram and scroll through some of her posts. Which is when she found one from three months ago that looked weirdly familiar. It was just a picture of some bookshelves, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. Then she saw that Y/N had tagged the location, and it was in D.C. The celebrity hadn’t given up the exact name of the bookstore; a slight annoyance for Penelope, but she knew it was probably just so Y/N would be able to visit the place again without a crowd of fans or paparazzi, so she’d let it slide this time. Penelope isn’t one to frequent bookstores, but she remembered Spencer had taken herself and JJ to a small bookshop when they had decided their new year's resolutions would be to read more often. Spencer kept trying to get them to read the classics, but both women were shopping the romance section, much to Spencer’s annoyance. So, she called an amused Derek back to her place so he could take her there.

“So we’re doing this because some actress may have been to the same bookstore three months ago?” He asked, driving with one hand as he talked to Penelope. 

“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly!” She said, still scrolling through the instagram page. “Besides, it’s not just that, a lot of these pictures are in Quantico! What’s a big name actress like her doing here?” Since the discovery of the bookshop picture, she’d found 3 more that were obviously in the city; a well known coffee shop, a mall Penelope has spent way too much money at, and a picture of a sign from the nearest highway. There were some others that she thought might be, but there was no definitive proof to be found.

“She probably just has family here, baby girl.”

“Um, do I look like an amateur to you, hot stuff? The first thing I looked for was her family, who are all happily living far, far, away, thank you very much.” The next picture she scrolled to gave her pause. It was a picture of a TV with a still from Y/N’s breakout show on it, but a coffee table, with someone’s sock-clad feet on it, was just barely visible. The socks were covered with the logo for her show. It was captioned “Will it ever stop being weird to see myself on TV?”

“Does this look familiar to you?” Penelope held the phone in Derek’s line of sight, causing him to swerve the car a little and push her hand out of the way.

“Do you think that could wait until I’m not driving?” Penelope just rolled her eyes, taking a screenshot of the picture for future reference. In just a few short minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot of the bookstore. Penelope rushed in, with Derek strolling behind her. She quickly found the spot that was featured in Y/N’s instagram post. 

“See! Told ya it was here!” She said, showing Derek the picture so he could compare it himself. 

“Yup, definitely it is the same place. I still don’t see why this is a big deal though.”

Penelope opened her mouth to argue with him, but was interrupted by the store’s owner; a little old lady. “Can I help you two find anything today?” 

“Oh, no ma’am. I just saw your store on my favorite actress’s instagram, and wanted to see it for myself.” Penelope explained, feeling a little bad for wasting the woman’s time. Maybe she’d find a book to buy, even though she’s not even finished with the last book she bought here.

“Oh! Miss Y/L/N, right? She and her boyfriend are around here all the time! What a nice little couple; her boyfriend is a little skinny though, I really need to make some cookies for him the next time they come by.” The woman explained, walking over to the wall of the store to point to a framed picture of herself and Y/N, signed and all. 

“She has a boyfriend?” Penelope asked, shocked that she hadn’t at least figured it out. In all her snooping of Y/N’s instagram, she hadn’t seen a hint of a boyfriend. 

“Oh, yes. They’ve been coming around for, goodness, six months now? They always buy each other books, it’s so adorable. He always buys her one of the classics, I think it was Romeo and Juliet last time. She usually gets a romance of some kind.” That made sense; the most recent picture on her instagram was one of two books; Romeo and Juliet, and The Duke and I. Eventually, Penelope and Derek made their way out of the bookstore, and that was the end of Penelope’s investigation of Y/N Y/L/N’s life.

Well, the end of Penelope’s investigation for that week.

It’s not like Penelope could track down Y/N Y/L/N’s secret boyfriend…not without seriously abusing her FBI database and maybe breaking a few privacy laws. She almost forgot about the trip to the bookstore, but during a rare case where she actually got to join the team on the jet, she noticed Spencer was reading something out of character. 

“Uh, Reid?” He looked up from the book he was reading.

“What’s up?” He said, quietly, as everyone else was sleeping after the long case.

“Why are you reading The Duke and I? I thought you were a total book snob?” She asked, sitting across from him.

“Oh, um,” Nothing could hide the slight blush that appeared on his face. “A friend of mine told me to read it.”

“Like a girlfriend?” Penelope teased, watching as his blush became even more noticeable.

“Y-yeah. Uh. Like a girlfriend.” Spencer opened the book back up, hiding behind its cover and promptly ending the conversation. He brought his feet up onto the small table in between them, causing his pants to ride up just enough to show off his socks. One sock was just plain black, but the other one was covered in the logo for a familiar TV show.

“Are you a fan of Y/N Y/L/N too?” Spencer just looked up in confusion.

“What?”

“Your sock, that’s her show right? It’s really good, I watched it in like a day.”

Spencer’s eyes went back to the book. “Uh, yeah. It’s a great show.”

Sure, Penelope thought he was acting a little weird, but that’s just Spencer. He doesn’t talk about his life outside of work too often, but she was glad he at least told her about the girlfriend. Even if he wouldn’t tell her her name, she was sure she could figure something out. So the next day, she updated Derek on her new information about Spencer.

“Wait wait wait, Spencer was wearing socks with the show’s logo? And reading The Duke and I?” The two of them had been walking towards the BAU kitchen to get a cup of coffee to help them get through the paperwork day, but Derek had stopped walking abruptly when Penelope gave him those details.

“That’s what you’re most interested in? Not the fact that Spencer has a girlfriend?” Penelope asked.

“C’mon baby girl, it’s obvious that Spencer’s been dating someone.”

“What! You knew! And you didn’t tell me?”

Derek laughed, resuming their walk towards coffee and letting Penelope hurry along behind him. “Sorry cupcake, I figured you knew too. He’s just been so happy for the past few months, in the way only a lady would make him.”

“Ugh, ok, well some of us aren’t profilers, Derek. What’s so important about the socks and book?” 

“Well,” Derek grabbed the coffee pot, pouring some into Penelope’s mug as he spoke. “Just a few weeks ago you dragged me to a bookstore, where we learned about a certain couple. A couple where the guy likes classics and the girl likes romance, right?”

“Yeah-Oh! No! There’s no way you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

“And didn’t Spencer get flustered when you mentioned her?” He asked, now pouring the coffee into his own mug.

“Oh my god! The socks!” Penelope pulled her phone out of the pocket, quickly making her way to the picture she’d saved. She showed it to Derek once again, this time zooming in on the coffee table. “Those are the socks he was wearing! On her instagram!”

“Uh, why are you staring at a picture of Spencer’s living room?” Penelope jumped, not having noticed that JJ was standing over her shoulder, looking at the picture on Penelope’s phone.

“Wait, you’re sure this is his living room? Like, 100%?” Penelope had never actually been to his place before.

“Uh, yeah, he babysits Henry a lot. Why, what’s the big deal about it?”

“Oh my god, Spencer is dating a movie star. Spencer Reid is dating a movie star!” Penelope couldn’t help but jump up and down, almost spilling her coffee.

And then Spencer walked into the room, promptly ending the gossip between coworkers before Spencer could hear. 

Derek had made her promise to wait until Spencer was ready to talk about his relationship, but after an agonizing week, she felt like she was going to burst at the seams. So when she got a notification on their night off that Y/N had posted a new picture, she was aching to get more information about the secret relationship. This was, again, a picture in what she now knows is Spencer’s living room. This time, there was an open box of pizza on the table. It was captioned, “Lovely night in.”

So, naturally, Penelope immediately headed to Spencer’s.

~~~

Y/N doesn’t think it’s possible to be any more happy than she is right now.

8 months ago she’d just ended what was possibly the most disastrous relationship in the history of humankind. She’d made the classic mistake of dating a co-star; an older guy who was well known to be a bit of a playboy. The relationship had been extremely public; everything from their dates to their fights were somehow captured by paparazzi. His fans hated her, her fans hated him, and worst of all, the network was pushing them to be even more public in the hopes of gaining more viewers. At the end of it all, she was insanely grateful her character wouldn’t be returning for the next season as she was already booked for a movie. The only thing worse than breaking up with your co-star is having to continue playing his love interest. 

And just when she was at her absolute lowest, having sworn off of ever dating someone in the spotlight again, she ran into Spencer. 

After wrapping filming for a movie in Atlanta, the only reason she was even in D.C. was because her flight was forced to land early; a sudden storm was arriving and there was no way the plane would safely make it to New York. What started as an hour delay turned to three, then four, and before she knew it Y/N was stuck in town for a weekend. 

She spent basically an entire day hiding away in her hotel room, so Y/N just had to get out and do something. It was still raining cats and dogs, and she’d never been in the city before, so she just googled the closest places that were still open. Luckily, there was a small bookstore just down the street, and there were a few books she’d heard about that she hadn’t had the chance to buy yet. So she put on her coat and practically ran to the store. 

She was drenched and already regretting the decision to leave the hotel room by the time she walked into the building, but there was no point in turning back now. The place was practically empty anyways, Y/N only spotted an older woman reading a novel at the cash register. She slowly began browsing the shelves, not looking for anything in particular.

When she rounded one of the corners, however, she ran right into someone’s chest.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” She immediately apologized, looking up to find a cute man staring back at her. “I wasn’t paying any attention, I assumed I was the only one in here.”

“That’s alright, I, um, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

The guy standing before her was holding various books, all reminding Y/N of the books she was supposed to read (but never actually read) for her high school English classes. “So, do you exclusively read books written before the 20th century or are you just taking a college class in-” She read the title of the book on top of his pile; a collection of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe. “-depressing gothic short stories?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes a bit. “I just like a bit of a challenge when reading. And it’s a rainy day, which calls for ‘depressing gothic short stories,’ not–” He glanced at the one book she’d picked up, a cartoon covered book called Red, White, and Royal Blue. “What I can only assume is a cheesy romance.”

Despite his insult of her choice in books, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Well maybe I like reading books that are actually entertaining, not reading so I can be confused by convoluted metaphors.” 

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, their conversation was disrupted. “Y/N Y/L/N? Aren’t you from that doctor show on television?” Y/N turned to see the woman that had been at the register earlier slowly walking over. 

“That’s me! It’s nice to meet you!” Y/N’s real smile suddenly switched to a smaller, more practiced one. It’s not that she didn’t love meeting fans–she’d just been enjoying a conversation with someone who wasn’t treating her differently. 

“Oh I knew I recognized you! My granddaughter loves her show, she was so upset when you decided to transfer to that fancy british hospital and…” The woman started rambling on a bit about the stuff her character had done and how her granddaughter reacted to it. Y/N glanced over at the guy she’d been talking to, who seemed entertained by the whole interaction. “...Anyways, do you think we could take a picture? My granddaughter will just never believe you were here!”

“Of course, um, do you mind taking it for us…?”

“Spencer. Yeah, I’ll take the picture for you. Do you have a camera, Mrs. Waverly?” Clearly the guy, Spencer, was a bit of a regular here if he knew her by name. 

“Yes, yes, it’s around here somewhere…” The woman scrambled off, muttering to herself about where she’d last seen the camera.

“So…” Spencer spoke first, breaking the somewhat awkward silence while they waited for Mrs. Waverly. “You read cheesy romances and star in cheesy Grey’s Anatomy knockoffs?”

“Hey! It wasn’t a Grey’s-” His pointed look made her stop. “Ok, it was totally a Grey’s Anatomy knockoff, but I’m not on the show anymore so you can’t make fun of me for it!”

Mrs. Waverly finally reappeared, with an old polaroid camera in her hands. The two quickly took a picture, which Y/N happily signed for the woman. By the time both Y/N and Spencer had bought their books, the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. 

“So, um…” Spencer started, but trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“My hotel is just down the street.” Y/N said, pointing in the right direction. Spencer’s eyes widened a bit before Y/N realized what she’d said. “Not that I’m like, inviting you to my hotel room, I’m not, that’d be crazy, I just-” She cut herself off, trying to not ramble anymore. “Do you wanna walk with me? Tell me more about your depressing book?”

Luckily, Spencer wasn’t put off by her rambling. “I’d love to. Poe isn’t always depressing, really…” He started, as the two of you walked slowly towards your hotel.

From there, the short walk turned into a coffee date the next day, which turned into long FaceTimes while one or both of you were in different cities, which lead to where you are now; 8 months deep in a relationship and finally in town with Spencer. He’d still have work of course, but you’d be in town for the next two months as your next job wasn’t starting for a while. 

The two of you were basically in an extended honeymoon phase. Only your closest friends knew that you were dating anyone, so you never had to worry about it leaking to the press. You figured when the two of you got more serious you’d eventually have to go public with the relationship, but for now it was nice having something just for you. 

You were in Spencer’s apartment, scrolling through Netflix looking for something new to watch, when Spencer arrived home from work.

“I think my team knows that we’re dating.” 

“What?”

Spencer made his way to the couch, laying down next to Y/N as he continued, “Well obviously JJ knows, but she said she wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sure Hotch and Rossi at least have figured out that I’m dating someone, but I don’t think they care enough to figure out who. But today Garcia and Morgan were just acting weird. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if-”

Spencer was cut off by a knock at the door. “Spencer Reid if you don’t open this door right now I’m making Derek kick it down!” 

“Let me guess…that’s Garcia.” Y/N said, laughing as Spencer rolled his eyes and got up to open the door. 

“Spencer, are you actually dating a movie star? And you didn’t tell me?” Garcia complained, not yet seeing Y/N sitting on the couch as she entered the room, solely focused on Spencer. Derek walked in next, immediately noticing Y/N and smiling at her. Y/N made her way over, trying not to laugh at Garcia’s widening eyes when she noticed her. 

“Sorry, I think it’s my fault that he didn’t tell you. We’re just keeping things quiet right now.” You explained, “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Derek was the first to grab your hand. “Derek Morgan. I’m sorry about all this, she was just curious.”

“I’m Penelope! And you’re Y/N and I love your work so much you don’t even know!” Penelope began rambling, taking Y/N’s arm in hers and leading her over to the couch as she talked about her favorite parts of Y/N’s movie. Derek and Spencer slowly followed, talking amongst themselves.

“So…Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. How’d that happen?” Derek asked. 

Spencer smiled, thinking back to that night 8 months ago. “We met in a bookstore last year.”

Derek laughed, because of course Reid would meet a girl at a bookstore. “You happy?”

Again, he smiled. “I’ve never been happier.”

~~~

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@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @kenzi-woycehoski @esposadomd @andreasworlsboring101 @peculiarinsomniac 

[leeehye]

🫧˗ˏˋmy shy boy´ˎ˗ 🫧

[ summary ☁️] Seonghwa’s rejection to Y/n might turn out unexpected after time. But why did he reject her in the first place?

[ pairing ] nerd!seonghwa x prettygirl!reader /best friends to lovers

[ warnings ⚠️] none full fluff really. Just kissing- nothing happens, not fully proofread sorry

[ a/n 🍒] I’m sorry I’m taking long with the series, this is just a short drabble to make up 🌷

Y/n’s POV

I was finishing getting ready to go out with my best friend, Park Seonghwa, or as my other friends may know him, my long-time crush. Yet I have always lived a life of rejecting the truth ever since that day.

While putting in my earrings he came to my mind, and not like my best friend it made me remember that day, it was finals back in high school and I had invited him over to study for the math final.

We were sitting down on the floor in the living room each of us working and then tutoring each other like always and goofing around once in a while.

Until I caught myself admiring Seonghwa working on his iPad and then transferring information to his notes. His black hair, looked so soft and touchable, his big black eyes were focused on his work and his pretty lips gently parted as he mumbled what he wrote to himself.

I small smile formed on my face, before looking back at my laptop. I had developed a crush on Seonghwa probably since freshman year in high school and it was growing worse (bigger). We were in Senior year now, about to graduate and head to college and I was gathering the courage to tell him my feelings.

Though I had to admit it was scary, he was a really focused guy and he didn’t really talk about girls with me nor I have never seen him interested in love. As I was drowned in my thoughts his gentle voice let out a soft “oops” making me look. He had dropped his eraser and I smiled slowly reaching for it, and he did as well. Our fingertips gently touched.

We have held hands before, shared hugs or kiss each other’s heads but to me all of those little things mean more to me. But I am sure to him he just sees it as something normal. Like right now, the feeling of his warm fingers on my hand gave me soft butterflies on my belly.

Should I tell him right now? Gathering the courage I cleared my throat giving him his eraser before scooting closer to him our knees touching and I glanced at what he was looking at.

“um…Hwa?” I whispered to him, he hummed as he finished writing something before looking at me. I gulped softly swallowing the knot in my throat.

“have you ever…liked someone?” my question made his face turn into a confused one as his eyes moved to somewhere in the house as he seemed to think about it.

“oh…I had never actually thought about it Y/n…but I don’t think so…I think I’m just really focused on studying…I think I’m a weird nerd” he said laughing softly making me laugh with him shaking my head.

“no I don’t think so Hwa! Actually um…I think you’re really…cute” I finished my sentence quietly as he slowly stopped writing a formula in his notebook, but he didn’t look at me for a few seconds.

I was dying inside, wanting to take back everything but it was too late. I had told him what I thought of him but in a more honest tone. Which he quickly caught realizing I wasn’t joking, like we do.

His head slowly turns as his eyes meets mine. My body was hot, I couldn’t read him, his expression wasn’t good nor bad and I didn’t know what to expect.

Future me might regret it later but I slowly took the pencil off his hand and slowly his eyes watched my movements carefully and my hand slowly rested on his.

My eyes kept looking at him and taking the chance that his head was turned away, I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened and his hand gently flinched under mine.

He looked at me, moving his hand away as his mouth gently opened and closed trying to find the words. I somehow got the feeling that he didn’t feel that same. Letting me know this was a one-sided love.

“Y/n…what—” Seonghwa stutter as his hand slowly touched the spot that I kissed. My shoulders slowly dropped looking down.

“Y/n I don’t…I didn’t expect this” he finished saying as my heart slowly broke, I looked at him quickly moving away.

“I’m…I’m really sorry…you’re right…um…I think we’re ready for the final on Wednesday…” I whispered trying to calm down and change the subject. Trying to forget what had happened.

“I’m tired…You should get home before it gets dark” I said picking up my books and notebooks getting up leaving to my room, and then a cried all night, from embarrassment, pain and for probably ruining my friendship with Seonghwa.

After that incident, at school Seonghwa told me to forget about what had happened and to act like it never happened and from then our friendship continued but I was mire reserved while working on moving on from him.

I came back to reality when my mom knocked on the door, I quickly grabbed my bag and opened the door.“Sweetie, Seonghwa is here. I think he hust parked” my mom said as I walked out

After she said that the doorbell rang, and we both smiled. “Yup that’s him mom” I said giggling and we headed down. I got the door and opened it seeing Seonghwa smiling as soon as he saw me.

“Hi…” I said sweetly as he returned the greeting before my mom appeared behind me.

“Oh good evening Mrs. Kim” he said to my mom giving her a smile showing his pretty teeth. My mom giggled and sneakily elbowed me.

“Just to let you guys know, don’t rush on getting back, just don’t be to noisy just in case—” my mom started making my eyes go wide.

“mom!” I quickly said stopping her from finishing as my cheeks turned red. Seonghwa was wearing his focused faced with what my mom was saying, which he probably understood. Before smiling when I stopped my mom.

After saying goodnight to my mom I got out of the house closing the door behind me. I awkwardly smiled at Seonghwa.

“sorry for my mom…um where are we going?” I said softly while we walked to his car as he opened the door for me.

“I was thinking we could go to the park, and maybe do some stargazing and just walk around and grab some snacks on the way” he suggested and I smiled nodding happily.

To some people it may seem boring, mostly for this society but I loved how we both were old fashioned, mostly me. The way he was simple in his ideas made me like him more, but we were just friends. Yet I couldn’t stop seeing him as the guy that would write you letters, have a cute lego building night, a reading date. He was perfect for that.

We had finally reached the park and started walking to out usual stargazing spot. I smiled noticing he was carrying a fluffy blanket.

“What? You didn’t think I was going to let you sit on the grass right? It’s really itchy after” he said making me laugh at his comment.

“thank you Hwa…” I quietly said earning a smile from him. While reaching our spot I noticed an old lady with an ice cream stand.

“Ooh Hwa, can we get ice cream?” I asked grabbing him by his sleeve pulling him over hearing him giggle. Reaching the ice cream stand I looked inside before picking chocolate for me and strawberry for Seonghwa.

“How you know?” Seonghwa asked as I looked at him. “Hm…I just do…That’s how good I know you” I responded playfully winking at him before looking at the nice ild lady getting some cash from my pocket but Seonghwa held my hand.

Bringing back the feeling of his soft hand on mine I stayed quiet watching him pay instead and I gently grabbed my ice cream and he took his, he still had my hand in his.

Not wanting to be reminded of that day I took my hand away from his and giggled.

“Can I try your ice cream?” I asked him sweetly and he just smiled allowing me to ad he got his ice cream come to me, as I softly tried his ice cream and that’s when he gently pushed it towards me getting it on my lips and some on my nose making me squeal.

“Hwa!!” I whined giggling licking the ice cream off my lips pouting trying to get myself cleaned while he was laughing. After a fee laughs he took out some napkins and came close to me cleaning my nose. He was close I could smell the strawberries 🍓 in his breath.

God, Y/n you need to contain yourself like you’ve been doing all along. He had a smile on his lips while cleaning me, his movements slowed down, and I see his eyes darken. His glance from my nose went to my eyes, and slowly to my lips.

I did want to get ahead of myself and took the napkin from him. “Thank you Hwa! Come on the evening is beautiful!” I said changing the subject going to our usual spot under a cherry blossom tree, it was so pretty. It wasn’t windy but it was just perfect and some of them were flying off.

Seonghwa laid the blanket down and we took a seat finishing our ice cream. I admired the evening as time went on and the sky started to tint itself with pink and orange.

“it looks so pretty, don’t you think?” I asked “Hwa—” I asked turning my head to him already staring at me as he jumped quickly shaking his head waking up from whatever thoughts he was having.

“Yeah, yes it’s…really pretty…” Seonghwa responded with his soft stuttering voice. I showed him a smile and gently hit his arm

“Um…Y/n? Did you ever…felt bad or…were you ever embarrassed of me? For being the quiet…nerd?” Seonghwa asked me making me look at him in shock.

“Of course not Hwa! What kind of question is that?!” I exclaimed gently touching his arm and he gently gave me a closed smile.

“I was just curious, since a girl like you back in…high school…it would have been strange…since you were the pretty girl…you know?” Seonghwa was talking nervously and started to make no sense but it only made me giggle.

“So does that mean? Wait…back then, god I wish I could turn back time” he whispered making me confused, I slowly tilted my head feeling his hand on top of mine. I looked down at it, we were now in opposite roles from back then.

He came close and my heart started raising, his strawberry breath reached my senses and the butterflies from high school were felt again. His big eyes were on mine before moving down, to my lips.

I opened my mouth to try and word something but I couldn’t, not because I couldn’t find the words but because before I could talk he crashed his lips on mine.

I was frozen, he was kissing me for the first time, and not on the cheek like I did, on the lips, they were so soft. The way he softly moved them, making me kiss him back after a few seconds. Our lips worked in sync sharing a sweet and soft kiss.

His hand slowly rearranged itself and intertwined our fingers together before moving his other hand to the back of my head, making us drop down slowly laying me on the blanket.

I had waited for this for so long I couldn’t let it go to waist. Still kissing him we separated a few millimeters to catch our breath before continuing and that’s when I gently licked his lower lip, I felt his reaction to my sudden movement making me blush.

We slowly pull away followed with a soft wet sound, and we just looked at each other with smiles on our faces and I slowly touched his shirt gently fixing his hoodie.

“W-why until now?” I whispered to him gently kissing his chin making him smile shyly.

“Because I was a coward Y/n I think that’s the only explanation there is…” he started as he looked down before tuning him glance back at me.

“I was scared? Of what others might think, imagine the quiet nerd dating the prettiest and sweetest girl, the class president? I just…I think you were to much for me Y/n” he whispered softly pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“and you don’t know how much I regret not responding to you that day…everyday I thought about it…and well…I hope I’m not to late” Seonghwa whispered to me making me give him a sad smile.

He was getting out of his comfort zone and expressing his feelings for me, of course it wasn’t too late, my love for him was still there and he was new to all this, I couldn’t blame him. He was so cute!

“Of course it’s not too late Hwa…yes I was sad that day but our friendship was way more important but now that…I know how you feel I’m so happy” I said gently cupping his face as his cheeks tinted red and looked down shyly.

“Do you…want to…give me a chance? I promise to show you all my love, because I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you” Seonghwa whispered while admiring my eyes making me blush as I have him a gentle nod.

“Yes Hwa I will give you a chance, but you better not hurt me like that day” I said playfully kissing his cheek as he shook his head wanting to forget about that day before pecking my lips but I pulled him down into a more passionate kiss.

After sharing a passionate kiss he was laying down with one arm behind his head and the other arm around me as we watched the stars. I couldn’t ask for more, I loved my shy boy so much.

IM IN LOVE WITH PARK SEONGHWA 🤎 and this just made me love him more this is so cuteee!

I’m sorry for taking long on a dare after all and sweet truth I have been busy and I couldn’t really get into it fully! I posted this to update you guys with something ☕

Any interaction is really appreciated. 💕

[echobx]

figure you out part 1 - jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: y/n hasn't seen her friends in quite some time and decides that it's time to pay them a visit, but her best friend JJ Maybank isn't very fond of her

warnings: hurt/comfort, verbal fighting, JJ being a bit of an asshole

word count: 4.3k

author's note: it's very much more hurt than comfort ig. I know I fucked up the southern drawl thing that JJ got going on, but I'm not very knowledgeable in that so don't focus on it too much.

y/n hadn't been that attentive of her friends lately. She had a lot on her plate ever since switching schools, from Kildare High to KCD, and moving out of her family home and into the condo her boyfriend had provided for her after her parents had to move away for work. She hadn't minded it much. She had always been more on her own, had always known how to take care of herself. Growing up on the Southside hadn't been easy, but it had taught her a lot about life, especially to appreciate it when good opportunities were at hand.  So she said yes to the car Travis had gifted her on her 18th birthday. She had said yes to moving into the penthouse apartment with him, although he technically still lived with his parents to keep up the facade. His parents were old school, so she had said yes when he had proposed to her. "It's a good match. You will be taken care of, sweetie," her parents had told her. y/n knew it was the right choice, the smart choice. She would go to college, and then they would get married after. He would take over his parents' company, and she would play the trophy wife, raise the children and look pretty. It wasn't a bad future for someone who came from nothing. 

The only cons to the big plan were her friends. Well, if they would still call her, that was to be questioned. She had only seen them a few times at parties in the last eight months, but she had come to the conclusion that now, as the end of the school year was right around the corner, she should finally pay them a visit again. y/n missed her friends dearly. She missed hanging out, drinking beers and smoking. She missed surfing and falling asleep in the hammocks at the Château afterward.  Before y/n had switched schools, her friends had held a long discussion over the issue. The fear that she would forget them and never look back was great, especially after they had all experienced a similar situation when Kiara had had her "Kook year" like they used to call it. But it hadn't mattered what the Crew had to say, the decision had already been made. Her future was more important, getting off the island had been the only goal for her ever since her first day of High School. She had become valedictorian for this one reason and nothing else.  But the worst part had been that they had all been right about her, about the changes. 

When y/n looked in the mirror that evening, she could barely see her old self anymore. The washed out shirts and cut off jeans she had always worn had been replaced by pretty sundresses and blouses and other fancy Kook clothes. She looked like a Kook, she lived like a Kook, and anyone who didn't know her from childhood on might think she had always been like this.  She had tried to pick something that wasn't too on the nose. A white loose blouse and light blue jeans shorts. Her hair hung over her shoulders in fine beach waves, and for shoes she wore her usual gray low Chuck's.  The whole drive over to the Cut, she was plagued by fears. 'What if they hate me? What if they say I betrayed them?' were just two of the many questions that pondered her mind. 

She parked her car at the Chat. The old, wooden house still looked the same as it had the first time she had laid her eyes on it. It sat rather idyllic at the sound, and the afternoon sun was painting everything in a golden glow.  The HMS Pogue was towed to the pier and the Twinkie parked in her usual spot. y/n thought back to the many adventures she had gone on with her best friends, especially John B and JJ.  "Hey there, old girl," she mumbled and let her hands run over the metal of the little, orange bus.  "She's not that old, you know," John B laughed from behind her, and she snapped around just in time to be embraced in a hug.  "Where were you? Fucking missed you, sharky," he sighed while holding her in his arms.  "Missed you too, bird," y/n laughed, and they broke out of the hug.  "y/n!" Kiara screamed and slammed her surfboard into Pope, who walked next to her, just for her to run into y/n's arms. 

After a warm welcome from all of them, they were sitting on the porch, sharing beers and being happy about the reconnection.  "I know I should have come by sooner, but school is a lot and then my parents moved away. It was so much, and I promised myself to focus on my future. I'm so sorry, guys." y/n apologized for possibly the millionth time since she got there.  "We would never judge you for that," Pope assured her, and she gave him a thankful smile.  "We do judge you though for not texting once, and rather fucking some Kook than coming by to surf or something," JJ sneered as he walked onto the porch.  "Jay," y/n hushed as she looked at him. He was hurt, and he was actively fueling his pain over seeing her again into his rage.  "No, I get it. You're a Kook now. The car, the fancy clothes, living Northside. You've got it all, don't you," he hissed at her.  "It's not that simple," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't even attempt to calm down.  "It's very fucking simple, actually. You're a Kook now. No Kook is a friend of mine. You can go." JJ pointed towards the door, expecting her to get up and leave immediately, but she didn't. "JJ, that's enough," Sarah admonished him.  "She left us, so don't expect me to be so stupid to let her back in just because she is bored or whatever and decided to pay us a visit," JJ yelled, and it was the last thing y/n had needed to break. She had expected him to act this way, he had always been hot-headed, but this was worse than what she had prepared herself for.  She stood up and walked away. "I'm sorry. I should have asked before coming by," she mumbled before leaving towards her car.  "And there she runs again. You don't have to come back again, cheater," JJ called after her as she got in her car and drove away. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Kiara screamed at JJ and pushed him so that he stumbled backwards a few steps. "She wanted to come back, and you pushed her away because you can't fathom that life isn't just black and white. Get your head out of the gutter, JJ, she's not the same girl she was when we met her."  "And that's exactly the issue!" He spat out and turned towards John B. "Whatever that was, that's not the same girl we grew up with. She's not our friend anymore!" "Leave! I will not have you call her names and all that crap you are trying to pull right now. Go, and don't come back unless you apologize to her. She had a tough year, and you're just making it worse with your selfish bullshit. Because to me, she is still the girl who kept running into this very door frame because she has shit coordination skills. Maybe you can't see that, but it's true. People don't change that much, not at their core. Leave!" John B stared his best friend down until he angrily ripped the porch door open and left. 

Meanwhile, y/n cried the whole way home. She had wanted to spend the weekend reconnecting with her friends, and not just because her boyfriend and his family were out of town. No, she had wanted to do so for a long time, but she had never gotten the opportunity to. But now this was also ruined. Her best friend had ruined it. At least she had still thought of JJ as her best friend before he had screamed at her. 

JJ Maybank had been y/n's best friend since third grade. John B and JJ had saved her from a bully at recess, and since then the three had been inseparable. They had spent every free minute with each other. Had consoled one another after a heartbreak or after a fight.  JJ had been her first kiss because they had decided to not take any chances with someone who would turn out to be an asshole, at least that had been the reasoning she had used to convince JJ. What she had never known was that Jay had always had a crush on her, just a tiny one, but he was still sure that she was his first love.  He had of course never told her about that, or the fact that his heart broke a bit when she had called him crying after losing her virginity to some guy who had only pretended to like her. He had never mentioned that he had beaten the guy up the day after to teach him a lesson. He had never told her how much she meant to him, not even when it might have been the only thing that could've held her back from switching schools. 

But then again, y/n had never been that truthful either. She hadn't told him that she had always compared every single guy to him, and that none of them ever came close to how he made her feel. That he had always been her safe haven, the only one she trusted blindly, the only one who had never judged her.  Yet he had been the only one to do exactly that as soon as she had come back to her old life. And she hated him for it. They had promised each other to never hurt the other too deeply, but he had done exactly that.  She knew his mannerisms. Knew how he tended to push everyone away, the more damage the better, but she had never thought to be on the receiving end of his rage. The betrayal over the broken promise hurt just as much as the words he had thrown at her that night. 

y/n cried herself to sleep in the empty apartment that had never truly felt like home because nothing in it was like she had wanted it to be. It was white and clean and fancy. Stone and metal where she preferred wood and old shipped away tile because someone had once thrown a plate out of rage.  She missed her actual home, but no matter how much she would have worked, she couldn't afford to rent out the whole house on her small waiter salary. Besides, now that she was engaged and ready to leave for college, she didn’t need the job anymore. She had actually been advised to not keep on working. "It doesn't look good for the family," her boyfriend's parents had persuaded her and as the dutiful girl she was, she followed the orders of her future in-laws. 

On the other side of the island, JJ was driving around on his bike, trying to let go of his rage, but nothing seemed to work. Seeing her had caused him distress. Seeing her had brought back all the feelings that he had pushed down so far that he had forgotten they existed.  The first time he had seen her in the arms of the Kook, he had wanted to rip the guy's head off. He didn't deserve her, JJ was sure of that. But in JJ's eyes no one was truly worthy of her.  He had hoped that she was miserable with him, that once she came back she was crawling, begging for forgiveness, begging to be taken back. But that hadn't been the case. She had proudly presented her new Kook life as if it was the best thing to ever happen to her.  JJ had looked at her, and the y/n he had seen had looked nothing like the one he had fallen in love with years prior. He was ashamed of ever thinking that she might not turn into one of them.  His rage drove him back to his old home, a place that wasn't his home anymore, it hadn't been in a long time.  He had nowhere to go, John B had kicked him out with good reason and none of his friends would help him out, he was sure of that. So the young man drove on and on until he found himself at her old house. It stood empty, no one had wanted to rent it at the high price the owners were asking for. When JJ had heard about y/n's parents leaving, he had assumed her to go with them. And when she had stayed, he had thought she would be allowed to keep living in their house, but even that had not been the case.  Instead, she had moved in with her boyfriend, one of the most annoying Kooks he had ever met. JJ thought it was all a trick, gifting her a car, offering a place to live for free, helping her get into her dream college. The only thing he was sure she had achieved on her own was the scholarship, but now that he thought of it, it all seemed too perfect to not have been meddled with. 

JJ snuck into her old bedroom, the same color on the walls as it had the last time he was there. The old mattress lying on the bed frame he had helped fix many times. The closet they had hidden in the first night JJ had run from home, the closet she had kissed him in for the first time.  He laid down on the bed, like he had done so many times before, just that he was alone now. No one there to help him soothe the pain that he had been holding back ever since she had reappeared in his life. Or was it really a reappearance if you had always looked after her from afar? If you had made sure that nothing bad happened to her? He wasn't quite sure of it, but seeing her smile while talking about her new, pretty and fancy life had hurt him deeply. And pushing her away and hurting her had just done even more damage to himself than he had anticipated at the moment. John B was right, he needed to apologize. And it needed to be a damn good apology at that.

y/n decided to sleep in after that very emotionally turbulent night. Her mind hadn't stopped racing, though. She wanted to go back, to make things right, although it wasn't even her doing. She had tried to reconcile, had tried to get back together with the people she loved most, but he had denied her. 'No, if anything he has to apologize. I won't let him treat me like that, especially him,' she thought while making some breakfast. But her thoughts had occupied her so much that she had burnt her eggs to black goo, and she didn't even have any left to make new ones. So she decided to skip breakfast and go back to bed, turning on the TV in the bedroom. She tried to focus on the movie that was playing in front of her, but she really couldn't. 'Ten things I hate about you?' she thought. "I could give you millions of reasons why I hate him right now," she spoke up without noticing, but then she remembered that she didn't have to stay quiet. She was completely alone, no one to judge her thoughts.  y/n paused the movie and sat up. "I hate that you hurt me. I hate that you think you are better than me just because I had to make decisions that will impact the rest of my life. I hate that you never called, either. I hate that you blame me for everything. I hate you so much, JJ Maybank!" She screamed the last part so loud that she would have nearly overhead the knock on her front door.  It was already noon, and she was still dressed in her sleeping shirt. It was an old one she had once stolen from JJ, a weird coincidence really. 

"Who is there?" y/n asked before deciding whether she should open the door.  "It's me, JJ, please let me in," he begged, but she was reluctant.  "Are you gonna yell at me again?" she asked while unlocking the door.  "No. I came to apologize," he said, and she opened the door for him to walk in. Closing and locking it again as soon as he was inside.  "Better to be safe than sorry," she explained after he gave her a weird look because of her actions.  "Nice place," JJ mumbled while looking around. "That's marble, isn't it?" he asked as his long fingers ran over the kitchen island. His usual shirt and shorts combo was the same as the night before, and y/n immediately knew that John B had taken her side in the whole dilemma. He had kicked him out, and that was the only reason JJ was now standing in her home.  "Yes, it is," y/n answered while crossing her arms in front of her chest.  "Open room concept," he turned around and looked at everything. "I bet the bedroom is back there, just like the bathroom," JJ said while walking into the direction he had just pointed at.  "What are you doing?" y/n asked as she followed him around. She was well aware of the game he was playing. He was trying to find just enough clues to piece her life together; her life without him in it.  "A bathtub and a shower, that's what I call Kooky, cupcake," he noted and winked at her before turning away from the bathroom and towards the bedroom that was lying opposite of it. "That's a good movie." JJ nodded while looking at the TV screen. He jumped on the bed and tested the mattress, pressing himself into the sheets and sighing before getting back up. 

"Travis," he hissed. "He's a real charmer, isn't he," JJ mocked as he walked back over to her, looking into her eyes, but she didn't let him get to her. He didn't deserve to see her falter even a tiny bit.  "You know, I always thought you'd end up with someone who's less of an asshole, actually," he whispered before brushing a strand of hair out of her face.  "I always thought apologies didn't include mocking the recipient or someone who is close to the recipient," she hissed back at him, and he laughed.  "Fuck that, I'm not gonna pretend to like him. I should've at least broken his nose the first time he even looked at you." JJ moved past her and back into the living room.  "Two flat screens? You really are a Kook. Disappointing," he sighed, not even turning around to look at her. He was aware of the fact that he kept on hurting her, but that was part of his plan. Make her see what she actually needs instead of what everyone tells her to want.  His eyes fell on the balcony doors that were covered by big, heavy gray curtains. "Don't," y/n called out as he opened the curtains and then the doors.  "I bet he never even cared to ask, because if he did, he wouldn't have given you the fucking penthouse," he sneered before turning around while staying in between the opened folding doors. "You never told him, did you? How long has it been? Half a year since you got together, and he never even considered asking?"  "I don't like to make a fuss, you know that," she replied with her eyes closed. Even just looking out of the window at this height made her feel sick. "Can you close it again please," she begged and as soon as she heard the curtains close she opened her eyes again. 

"I don't like when you lie to me," JJ whispered after stepping closer again.  "You came to apologize," she reminded him.  "Answer me one question, and I will apologize and leave. You will never have to see me again if you don't want to, but you can't lie to me. You promised to never lie, remember?" He stared into her eyes and she in his. The bright blue that she loved so much, that reminded her of the sky, the sea. It reminded her of freedom and, most of all, of love.  "What do you want to know?" she asked, although she knew it was a bad idea to play his games. Even though they hadn't properly talked in so long, she still knew him best. Other than her, JJ hadn't changed a single bit since she had left. He leaned in closer before leaning to the side and whispering in her ear. "Has he ever made you cum?"  She gasped, not only because his words had shocked her, but because the warmth of his breath against her neck, the closeness of him to her, was completely overwhelming.  He moved away again to fully look at her, his pupils dilated and a smirk on his lips. 

"Why do you want to know that?" she pressed out while trying to not let her desire take control of her body and mind. y/n had always wondered what it would be like to have it all, to fully be his. She had always thought that JJ was the one. That he would be her first in everything, not just the first kiss, but y/n had been wrong. JJ had told her that there could never be anything between them, the rules made sure of that.  "I'm interested, that's all. He doesn't seem like the guy to know his way around a woman." He let his eyes wander over her. Well aware of the fact that the shirt she was wearing had once belonged to him. Maybe it was a sign, he wanted it to be one.  "We haven't-" y/n started to speak, but JJ just interrupted her.  "You're joking right? You have to be joking. Is something wrong with him? How can he wake up and fall asleep next to you every day and not want to fuck you?" He laughed hysterically because in his eyes it was impossible to not cherish her like she deserved it.  "He thinks I'm a virgin. I didn't tell him. And he doesn't sleep here every night," she tried to defend her boyfriend, but there was truly no reason for it other than to spite JJ.  "I see, he's not only boring as fuck but also the dumbest Kook in town," he laughed.  "We agreed to wait until-" She wanted to yell at him, but the words got stuck in her throat. No one knew that they were engaged, no one was supposed to know until the engagement party that was planned to happen a week after graduation.  "You're joking? Nuh-uh, you seriously have to be crazy to do that. You're gonna marry a guy who hasn't even seen you naked? Seen you in your most precious moment?" JJ shook his head in disbelief.  "His parents are very old school. It's a good match. A good and stable future," she argued with him.  "Good and stable can fuck off. You don't even love the guy!" JJ yelled and ran his hands through his hair as he paced the room. He couldn't believe that she was actually planning to destroy her life like that.  "You don't know who I love," y/n whispered. 

"You are so smart, so fucking beautiful and smart, and you want to throw all of that out of the window for the possibility to play housewife for some asshole that will only end up playing golf and fucking girls half his age?" JJ was disappointed in her. He had always thought that they would actually pursue the dreams they had pictured for their lives when they were kids. He had always wanted to run his own charter, or have his own garage, to do something he was good at. And from what it was looking like, he would get to have a similar enough life to what he had dreamed. It wouldn't be his own business, but at least he knew the guy that owned it, and if he did well enough he would maybe get to take over one day.  But y/n? y/n had always dreamed big, and he had never made fun of her for it because he knew she would be able to make it, to achieve anything she set her mind to. "You wanted to do law, remember? You told me you would one day be the youngest supreme court justice ever. That was the big dream, not some sad housewife who hates her life. Please, you can't really mean this, y/n." He was desperate because if she actually had decided to turn her back on the big dream, then there was no turning back. In his eyes, she would be lost if she didn't even consider not going with the plan Travis' parents had laid out for her.  "I know, Jay, but things change. I can't afford to study law." She was close to tears, but she didn't want to break down in front of him.  "I don't believe you. You can't throw it all away, not for someone who you don't even love." He was adamant about it. There was no way in hell or heaven that she was actually in love with the Kook.  "That doesn't matter," she muttered while looking at her feet. His fingers hooked under her chin as he tipped her head back up.  "It matters so much, darling. I won't let you make that mistake, not without giving you an outlook on what could be instead," he hushed before searching her eyes for just a short second. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

pt.2

[abbacchiosbelt]

Jjba Bruno prompt #24 with interrogation :)

You're already shaking with nerves before you step into Bruno Buccellati's office. You'd only met him a scant few times after your family had come pleading to Passione for protection — and each time had unnerved you. His unnerving gaze seemed to hover on you when you were in his presence. You'd never willingly choose to stand in front of his office's doorstep, but a summons there by Bruno himself had forced your hand. Your family made it more than clear that saying 'no' wasn't a possibility.

Behind you sits some of his crew, their eyes burning into your back as you stand silently, your hand raised to knock. Your muscles refuse to let you move, and a bead of sweat begins to roll down the back of your neck. If you weren't sure your family would be punished for your disobedience, you'd turn tail and run as fast as you could.

Before you can move, the door in front of you swings open. You see Bruno seated behind his desk, and he beckons you forward with the crook of his finger. The question of how the door opened if he was sitting behind his desk was only a fleeting thought. You enter quickly and the door shuts seemingly by itself. Flustered already, you huff out a surprised noise, and you hear a low chuckle across the room.

He was amused by how nervous you were. Heat creeps up your neck as you swallow the verbal jab you wanted to throw at him. You hated Passione, and that extended to the man in front of you. It didn't matter that you'd heard good things about him from nearly everyone in the neighborhood - you refused to trust someone who aligned themselves with the mafia.

You finally come to stand in front of his desk. Though he was seated, it felt as if Bruno towered over you. His presence made the fight or flight instinct in your brain flare to life, and it was all you could do to not reconsider your earlier plan of running away.

"I assumed I wouldn't need to explain why I called you here today." Bruno offers no pleasantries as he immediately begins whatever it was he had planned to say to you. He doesn't give you time to reply, folding his arms on the table as he leans forward and continues to speak. "That blank look on your face when you stood at the door told me I was wrong."

You shift, uncomfortable. How did he know what you looked like when you were standing out there? Before you can question him, he gives you a look that keeps your mouth shut.

"Come here." Bruno gestures to his side of the desk, and you swallow thickly. What did he want? You follow his words, cringing inwardly at how easily you gave in to him. You hadn't even been able to choke out any words. He gives you an expectant look when you round his desk to stand before him. “No, not there, in my lap.”

You grimace, unable to stop yourself, and he smiles. "You really are naive. Your family didn't tell you what kind of deal they made, did they?"

You're pushed by an unknown force into Bruno's lap, awkwardly splayed across his legs. Your heart skitters in your chest, anxiety and fear clawing its way into your nervous system. It was all too much in such a short period of time when you hadn't even known why you were here in the first place.

You're held steady in Bruno's lap even though his arms remain on either side of the chair he sits in, his lips curled into a smile that made your skin crawl. "I suppose I shouldn't keep it from you any longer. When I told your parents of my interest in you, they jumped to find a way to make me happy." He pauses, letting his words sink in. "Today was the day we agreed you'd come into my possession, and in return, they'd get a hefty discount on their future fees."

"Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about?" You finally manage to find your voice, adrenaline surging. "You're lying. Just tell me how much my family owes, and I'll pay it."

Bruno begins to laugh, throwing his head back as if you'd told the funniest joke he'd heard in years. You don't know how to respond, wordlessly sitting on his lap until he finally stops.

"Sorry, sorry." He starts. "It's just, you really have no idea, do you? Your family owes multiple generations of debt. It didn't start with your family, but your parents were more than happy to pay their share by way of... well, you. And I told them I'd consider beginning to chip into their remaining debt if you behaved. I suppose they were too cowardly to tell you what they'd done before sending you to me."

Bruno sneers, as if they were the only ones making poor moralistic choices in the situation.

The pit in your stomach that had been growing before you'd walked into Bruno's office practically feels like a black hole now. You want to hold on to something, to grasp at something tangible, but any movement would put you closer to Bruno than you already were.

"Don't worry about them," Bruno interprets your silence as acceptance, unwilling to consider you'd feel any other way. "We'll make a new family. Together."

[yourlocaltreesimp]

I (beg) ask if you can write anything Fierce Deity related. I don't want anything else, just that you write for my boy. (Pls us FD simps are starving).

Ah believe me I know y’all are dehydrated beyond the word’s meaning. I know the struggle (I really do) So I hope I do your boy (man) ((celestial being?)) justice!

(fir post writing: wow this is a LOT of context y’all don’t want or need, but my hands hurt so… part 2?)

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Immortality is a lonely existence. There are few beings that obtain an average life expectancy to that of a god. There are even fewer again who have immortality. Proper immortality. Not the poor results of a fae deal or some curse to age and wither without death. No. Proper immortality, exempt of aging past maturity and death herself.

That made his current predicament worse. Much, much worse than being stuck in a wooden mask.

You see, Gods and the immortal beings alike are rather fickle beings. They do glorious things to entertain or punish the mortals to have their names etched into stone and uttered in myth through centuries. They only wish to exist in temples of incense and candlelight, where the people there would do anything for even the cast of an eye.

Fierce had always thought those gods were the worst. All temples would crack. All names would be forgotten. All clay tablets and pots would be broken, ironically even by their proclaimed heroes. But that’s getting ahead of us. He was worshipped only in the grounds he was made for. It didn’t matter the land, for blood soaks into soil the same no matter what. It didn’t matter the men, the corpses were plentiful and he hardly discriminates. It didn’t even matter who won, because there are no winners in war.

He was made to fight, and he was made to kill. And so he did. His name rang throughout time between soldiers and emperors alike. Both tried to gain his favour. Occasionally there would be a temple, occasionally there’d be some mortal claiming to bear his blood, occasionally he’d care.

Regardless, it all came to the same ending. The men would die, the temples would crack and his name would fade into obscurity again.

It was supposed to.

But it seemed the others didn’t like that he was beating them at a game he didn’t want to win.

‘Cruel’ they called him, ‘Violent’ ‘Inhumane’ ‘Rabid’ ‘Irate’ ‘Improper’

And so, they condemned him. And he was forever no more.

Eras passed.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years… And truly, he was nothing.

Just as they promised.

Some relic like their old tales, except he could not crack and wither.

He was lonely, perhaps just as much as before in hindsight. The fickle attention he did have was only worth something if he willed it.

At some point, He was awoken again. There were hands on his cheeks, shaky and blood covered. And there was light. The person who had called upon his spirit was not in good shape, blood spilling from their weak body as they were chased by odd looking men. A pack of wolves set on a lamb.

He’d learn throughout the next few months of hiding you and sharing your consciousness that the people of your village had thought you to be a witch. As such, you were beaten and chased.

You were a doctor, you’d told him.

You’d just tried to cure someone.

And such began his problem.

He’d never saw the purpose of mortals. They were future bodies, to him. They’d live to die. Sure, it’s better than the alternative of there only being gods, but they never held much worth to him.

Not until you.

You are good. In every way the short comings of language can express you are good. You’d devoted your life to a thankless existence and the nature of living had caught up to you. Good things didn’t deserve that. Good people didn’t deserve to live the life you led.

He was not so cruel as to condemn you to that fate.

And so, he began to help. Once gaining a physical form, (through much trial and error) He’d do the work you couldn’t manage. Hunting, building, sewing, cooking, he’d do as much as possible. He knew what it was like to be turned back upon by everyone. But you wouldn’t be able to grow past that. Not in your short life.

He held you as you shuddered and cried. He tended to your wounds and sickness. He did and would do whatever it took to see you happy again.

He did not, however, see the consequences.

It took him far too long for his comfort to realise that you were not simply accompaniment. You consumed his waking thoughts and filled his dreams. He lived around you, your wants and your needs. He began to eat because it made you comfortable, He slept because you liked to be near him, He humanised himself because it made you happy.

He would’ve renounced his title as a god to make your life perfect, or as close to as it could be.

But He could not.

He could not simply marry you and go about your lives knowing you had one another. He could not have you to hold forever. He could not always love you in sickness and health no matter how much he tried. Because at the end of the day, it’s until death do you part.

Or… do you?

(part 2? perhaps? maybe? perchance?)

[animeomegas]

Omega!Neji x Alpha!Reader - Yours.

Congratulations to Neji as the winner of my first poll! (Also shout out to the literal two other people that voted for Kankuro with me XD) As promised, here is a Neji x reader wedding drabble. Enjoy~

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and both reader and Neji having consumed some. Suggestive content but nothing explicit.

It was almost 01:30 when the last of your guests stumbled off home, and 02:00 before you and Neji were able to start the short journey from the centre of your clan’s small compound where the wedding had been held, to the northern edge where your house resided.

As the cool air caressed your heated cheeks, you were grateful that the walk would be short; the alcohol, euphoria and exhaustion was mixing in a way that made you want to sit down. Even Neji, arguably the most graceful person you knew, was stumbling a little as he walked, leaning heavily on the arm you had linked with his.

Neji. Your husband. Yours. Just thinking that had a giddy laugh bubbling up.

“What are you laughing about?” Neji asked, his voice sounding a little breathless.

You slowed down and turned to face him properly, enchanted by the way the moonlight seemed to seep into his skin. The elaborate bun that his hair was styled in was looser than it had been this (technically yesterday) morning, with more strands than intended framing his face. A part of Tenten’s speech automatically came to mind.

“Neji insisted he wasn’t nervous, and that the date would probably be mediocre, but no one spends three hours and uses two hair masks before meeting up with someone they don’t care about,” Tenten had said, recounting the morning before yours and Neji’s first date.

“How beautiful you are,” you said, clumsily pecking him on the cheek. “Did I tell you how much I love your hair?”

“Once or twice,” he snorted, pulling on your linked arms to encourage you to start moving again.

“And the way you wore my clan’s traditional wedding kimono, I wasn’t expecting that,” you said. Honestly, you had almost cried and got a bit too horny at the same time which had been a unique experience. “I feel bad for every other clan marriage in the near future, because none of the omegas will be able to pull it off like you did. You look like an ethereal spirit in pastel green.”

“Personally, I feel sorry for the alphas; they will never be able to compete with you, to look as striking, to say better vows, to kiss their omegas the way you kissed me,” Neji’s voice trailed off quietly as he spoke, perhaps remembering the kiss.

“I know they will be happy forever,” Lee had said with a startling amount of sincerity during his speech. “Because I have never met any pair whose passion has burned as brightly! My rival and I have competed many times, but in matters of love, I will have to concede for the moment, because he has truly chosen a special alpha.”

The conversation fell silent for a moment. You tried to commit as much of this to memory as you could, focusing on the sound of the leaves rustling on the trees, the sight of the empty compound at night, the warmth and weight of Neji by your side. Perhaps slightly less romantic, you also noticed the way your feet ached, heard a few drunken mumblings from your guests also making their ways home, and spotted a wine stain on your top.

“We all saw how smitten y/n was during the vows, but what you didn’t see was all the terribly awkward pining that happened to get here,” Sakura had grinned at you during her speech, seemingly more than happy to horrifically embarrass you. “Like the time at Ichiraku’s ramen stand when I said Neji’s name and they smiled automatically, dribbling broth into their lap.”

Less romantic perhaps, but not imperfections, at least not to you; these were all signs that your day had been fun, and that was more important than anything. As your front door came into view, you were proud to say that you didn’t regret a single moment of your wedding day, and you told Neji as much.

“Surely it’s not over yet,” he replied, pulling your house key from kami knows where and unlocking the door. “There’s still so much we could do to make the last moments of the night… perfect.”

Your mouth dried up at the look he was giving you and you swallowed heavily. His lips were still stained slightly pink and you couldn’t draw your eyes away from them. How could one person be so beautiful?

“I’ll never forget the advice y/n gave to me before my fight with Neji at the chunin exams,” Naruto had said in his speech, winking at you when you had mouthed a violent threat because of what he was about to reveal. “They said ‘Try to aim for that stupidly beautiful face, pretty boys hate that’.”

“The things you do to me,” you muttered as Neji shut the front door and stepped right up until his chest was pressed against yours. It was common knowledge that Hyuuga had especially intoxicating scents, but the way Neji’s floral scent was filling your brain and clinging to your skin shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m more interested in the things you’ll be doing to me,” Neji’s whispered, his lips hovering about a centimetre away from yours.

There was so much pressure between you that you felt like it was burning you. It was building and building, and you didn’t know who would be the one to pop it first.

“But first,” Neji breathed, eyes fluttering closed.

Yours closed automatically, a heavy anticipation pressing on your chest.

“We both need a shower.”

Of course.

BONUS:

You had never showered so fast in your life, desperate to keep the whole endeavour less than ten minutes at all costs. Neji had showered first and taken much longer, but he had been disadvantaged in having to take off the elaborate wedding kimono, something you had done while he was showering.

Body? Done.

Hair? Done.

Teeth? Done.

Towel dry? Eh, good enough.

Eagerly, you wrapped the towel around you and stepped out into the hall, padding along the corridor until you reached your bedroom. A flash of excitement twisted in your stomach as you pushed open the door.

The sight that greeted you took a few moments to comprehend.

It was Neji, wearing only his short, silk dressing gown, the royal blue one that you loved so much, and laying on your bed. In many ways, it was a better sight than the one you had been using to motivate yourself in the shower. But it was also different.

Because Neji was asleep.

You crept over to him, arousal dropping into something fonder. Yep, he was asleep. His chest was rising and falling softly, lips ever so slightly parted and hair fanned out behind him like a dark halo. The sight of your new husband sleeping so peacefully suddenly filled you with so much emotion that it was difficult to bear. You gently brushed a stand of hair out of his face.

No matter, you decided, dropping the towel and changing into pyjamas, you had two weeks of honeymoon starting tomorrow and you would more than make up for tonight.

Once you were changed, you slid Neji under the covers before joining him, and with one final glance at the clock that proudly proclaimed it to be 03:37, you turned off the light and let all the positive feelings, new memories and the presence of your new husband lead you to sleep.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

summer blush

pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader

wc: 1.9K

warnings: nothing, can't remember if there's cursing.

summary: pool days and future dates

A/N: WE DESERVED LIFEGUARD STEVE WHY DID BILLY GET THAT ROLE!!!!!!! but I know we got scoops steve, but still!!!!

masterlist / steve harrington

everyone was at hawkins community pool if they didn’t have one sitting in their backyard. the weather was in the high nineties with a slight breeze to cool you off if you were laying out tanning. the dozens of kids were splashing and squealing in glee, screaming as they played marco polo or sharks and minnows. many parents trusted the lifeguards to do their job so they indulged in their books or gossiping with friends.

the lounger reclined at an angle, one leg bent and the other straight. loose shirt and swim shorts as your attire accessorized with sunglasses and a baseball cap to shade your face from the harsh sunlight as you read your book.

a high-pitched yell of your name drew your attention. tilting the book towards your chest you saw your neighbor lucas rushing your way. his running was put to a stop when a lifeguard blew their whistle and yelled no running. you saw a few other kids a little behind, three boys and two girls. 

“going for a swim, sinclair?” eyes squinting behind your glasses.

he rolled his eyes and pointed towards his swim trunks, “duh. gonna spend the next few hours getting pruney. oh, also my mom wanted me to ask if you were free on the twelfth.”

one of the boys called his name and lucas told him he was coming before turning back to you. “uh, as of right now i’m an open book. does she need a babysitter?”

“yeah. my parents have a date planned so they need someone to watch us.”

you nodded your head, “well i’ll be happy to babysit. just have her call me when you get home. now go have some summer fun, your friends are getting antsy.” the tweens being all dramatic from their spots close by.

lucas waved goodbye before talking with his friends and then they all threw themselves into the chlorine-heavy pool. the two girls were a step behind with shrieks that carried until they were submerged.

you watched their playful fighting for a bit with a gentle smile on your lips. how lucas would dunk his friend with sopping curly hair underwater or the redhead would slap water at the byers kid. the other girl with shoulder-length hair was just walking around the shallow end with an enormous smile.

deciding to turn back to your book, your eyes took a sweep of the crowded pool and they managed to catch a lifeguard chair change. a girl in the uniform-issued red one-piece was climbing down from the high chair as a boy leaned a hand against the legs. the two chatted for a moment before the girl waved goodbye and the boy climbed the steps and settled into the seat.

and when he was in perfect view you were able to make out the person you were ogling. steve harrington. steve harrington, who was dressed in only red swim trunks as he watched over the community pool. now your book doesn't seem so interesting.

you held the book at a normal height and used the book and sunglasses as your undercover ruse as you observed (stared) at steve. how he seemed comfortable in the uncomfortable high chair, one hand fiddling with the whistle that was sitting on his chest as his head moved around to get a full view. his hair looked naturally fluffy and curled, oh man.

you and steve were in the same graduating class but only had a handful of classes together in the four years of high school, and in only two was there conversation. he was more outgoing and friendly with most of the school population, while you had one friend, robin buckley, who stuck to the shadows and books. and even though you hid in the shadows, that harrington charm always shined brightly no matter what. so yeah, you weren’t unaffected by him, you just made sure not to act like an idiot when he was around.

wishing you had the balls to walk up confidently and start an effortless conversation, you just groaned as you leaned your head back and laid the book on your sunscreen thighs. you don’t even know what he likes, not like you could chat about the weather for twenty minutes before it dies out. “so… this weather….” “yeah, pretty warm. brings everyone out of their houses.” that’s so stupid!

you know what, forget about it. push steve from your mind. push lovely steve harrington from your mind and focus back on your fantasy novel. you did set a goal of reading through the stacks of books you’ve bought over the months. you look through your bag and grab your wallet before pushing off the flimsy lounge chair and heading to the vending machine for a snack.

you look at the different selections of chips and press in c7, your second favorite chips dropping down. you pushed the flap open and managed to grab the goods without twisting your wrist. you looked to the concessions booth and debated if you wanted to pay three fifty for a slushy.

“hey.” you heard someone call but you didn’t think they were calling for you since it didn’t sound like any of the younger kids. head tilting side to side in a silent debate before it came again this time followed by your last name.

you felt like an idiot when you looked over your shoulders to find the source but couldn’t so you turned forward again, which caused the mystery person to say your name once again followed by, “it’s steve, dummy.”

that made you turn around real quick with your brows raised and hands sat on your hips, chip bag crinkling. “what’s with the nickname, mr. lifeguard? i’m a customer minding their business.” sarcasm hiding the curiosity of why steve was suddenly calling for you.

he was twisted in the high chair, one knee up and poking through the hole for the armrest with his arms folded on the top and his chin digging into his golden forearms. his sunglasses pushed to his hair showing his face off without obstruction, though his eyes were squinting against the beating sun. he had a smirk to his mouth and, oh your insides melted.

“i am so sorry to be disturbing,” the sarcasm twisted in his words, “but i was wondering if you’d be willing to buy me a cherry slushy. for a fellow mrs. fray senior english class student.”

lips parting in slight shock, “you…you remember me?” body language changing from defense to sheepish. you meant to say those words in your head only, not aloud where he could make fun of you.

his eyes unsquinted just a bit and you were able to see the smirk fall away and genuine confusion settle in. “why wouldn’t i? i sat next to you all year. and what a lovely view to get me through that boring class.” a flirtatious tone singing through the words. 

now you are standing frozen. was he…flirting? was steve flirting with you? when you felt sweaty and didn’t look put together, baggy shirt and hair pushed under a baseball cap. there was no way, right?

“well…i do remember you staring a lot. just thought i was blocking the window view.” trying to flirt, swing and a miss in your head.

steve chuckled. deep and boyish over the volume of the occupants. “nah, view outside wasn’t worth my time.” a cheeky smirk and, oh yeah. he was flirting.

“anyway. would you still be willing to buy that cherry slushy for me? kinda dying of thirst and heat over here.” his body that wasn’t shaded by the umbrella was highlighted bright with the sun. mind traversing to the knowledge he might develop more freckles over his skin and how you wished to chart them like constellations in the night sky.

you looked to the booth and back to steve, working yourself up to try a hand at flirting again. you took four steps closer to the white chair, head tilted up while steve stared down. “would i get anything back in exchange? since, you know, i’m paying with my own money.” hoping he doesn’t say something that billy hargrove wolf whistles at.

steve smiled with his teeth biting into his bottom lip. his head moved just a bit to the side and his eyes squinting a bit harder, you were glad to see his whole face, but you wished to just slide his black sunglasses over his honey-brown eyes. he looked to be debating something for a moment and then he shifted around to climb to the hot cement floor. he stopped just in front of you, right side of his body leaning into the chip painted wood. he was messing around with his red whistle and your skin produced goosebumps from the way his eyes roamed over your face and trailed down your body then back up.

“well, a slushy is only three fifty, so what i’m gonna suggest is overpriced. but if you're willing to spare some change, i would be happy to take you…” he stopped for a moment, almost seeming nervous before he got his confidence back. “…to take you on a date. movie and dinner, all on me.”

you almost dropped your chips and wallet due to the words that left his mouth. “you’re…this is a joke right? some prank?” self-conscious defense going up.

steve pushed himself into an upright position, hands shaking in front of him with urgency on his face and in his words. “what? no, no! i- i genuinely want to- i’ve wanted to ask you for a while!” words rushed and grumbled.

you were shocked for the third time today. steve harrington wanted to take you on a date. and for a while. “really?” the voice is almost meek.

steve rubbed the back of his neck and you weren’t sure if that was sunburn or blush on his cheeks. “yeah…i know i seem…good at getting dates. but when it comes to someone i like…i can get tongue-tied.” fingers messing around with the back of his hair.

you couldn’t help the teasing smile, “oh…steve harrington gets flustered by his crushes? didn’t realize we reverted to middle school.”

he rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “yeah, yeah. now for the third time, can you buy me a slushy? and would you like to go on a date with me? saturday at seven?”

there was a whistle and the call for steve to get back in his chair. he didn’t turn around or anything, he stayed trained on you with pleading eyes and a nervous smile. you didn’t bother keeping the boy waiting any longer, butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“i’ll get you that slushy. and then i’ll tell you my decision. so, best you get back to your job before you get fired.” taking steps backward then turning on the balls of your feet.

you felt his eye on your back the whole time as you ordered and waited for the drinks. with the two in hand along with your chips, you walked to steve already having your mind made up. you held his cherry slushy up high and he grabbed it with a “thank you.” his fingers brushing your knuckles.

“so, yes or no? hurts to keep a guy waiting.” a fake pout to his lips. you took a sip of your icy beverage and then counted to five. “what movie?”

“the goonies. heard from a birdie you’ve been waiting to see that one.” that just solidified your answer. “food before or after? and where?”

steve took his sip and then answered, “whichever and wherever you prefer.” 

you tapped your flip-flop foot and took a few more sips. “seven works. benny’s before and then goonies. maybe milkshakes after. sounds good?”

he smiled down at you, teeth shining in the light and lips turning a bit red. “sounds perfect. can i have your address?”

you began to walk back to your lounge chair, calling over your shoulder, “use the phone book, harrington! very useful information.”

-

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Tamtam and Sky (oc) meet with Tarquin. I am not completely happy with this one, but I have come to the realization that these will always be dialog heavy. My desire with this fic is to uplift the characters who were treated like shit by the narrative.

Also this post by @msbrownwithacrown is cannon to me and I reference it.

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet. No warnings apply, I just wanted to show Tarquin some kindness.

Ch1

Ch4 > Ch6

Chapter 5:

I portaled us to the entrance of the Summer court castle in Adriata. The delicious smell of the salty sea water filled my lungs as I glanced up at the magnificent architecture that stood before me.

“You know, we were invited into the meeting room, we could've just winnowed straight in there.” Tamlin said, offering me his elbow to guide me inside.

“I never portal inside someone's home, I find it grotesquely rude.” I placed my hand on his arm gently, still admiring the beauty around me.

“We are here for a meeting with Tarquin.” Tamlin informed the guards as they led us inside and through the beautifully decorated halls. I bowed my head in thanks to them as they left us at the door to the office and we took a breath together as we entered.

Tarquin was already sitting there at the head of the magnificent table. His immaculate white locs hung down to the middle of his chest and his bright blue eyes sparkled like the sun shining off the sea. Why is every male in Prythia so damn gorgeous? He was young, not counting Feyre, Tamlin had told me he was the newest high lord, only rising to his position a few years ago, but that did not take any merit away from the power he held. A leader with a kind heart will always be more powerful than their counterpart.

“Welcome to the Summer court,” Tarquin smiled as he extended his hand to shake Tamlins, “it's good to see you getting back on your feet.”

“Thank you, friend, what wonders a woman's love can do for a broken heart,” Tamlin gushed as he looked to me. “This is my mate and other half, Sky.”

“It is nice to meet you, sir. I have heard good things about you. The Summer court is lucky to have a heart like yours leading them.” I complimented him earnestly as I turned the chair sideways to sit down.

“It is nice to meet you, Sky, but you must forgive me if I am a bit wary. The last few times a face like yours entered my court, it was left worse for wear.” He added cautiously. “I have come to realize that I handed my trust out far too easily, and it ended horribly for my people. I have been working to learn caution.”

“I understand fully. Your duty is to your people, and unfortunately I was cursed with sharing the face of an arrogant ass,” I giggled at the last part, lightening the mood.

“I will try my best to remain impartial to that,” Tarquin smiled. I, honestly, couldn't blame him for not trusting me. In his short reign he's had to rebuild his city three times. He has seen war and had precious heirlooms stolen from him.

“I appreciate it, but I have no issue putting in the work necessary to earn your trust.” I offered. He seemed pleased with my response.

“We are working hard to rebuild our court and welcome our citizens back home. I understand that the actions I took and decisions I made harmed your lands as well, Spring and Summer were hurt by the hands of the toxic relationship I was a part of, and for that I extend my most sincere apologies.” Tamlin began, Tarquin listening intensively. “And even after all of it, you welcomed my people to your lands with open arms. I can only hold hope moving forward that I can model even the slightest inch of the compassion you have in you.” I had heard him rehearsing this speech every morning since Tarquin agreed to this meeting and Tamlin was doing a beautiful job. A man willing to humble himself and give a sincere apology is so attractive.

“Yes Tarquin, we need help, we cannot rebuild the entire court on our own. We need carpenters, and supplies. We plan to pay well for these services and Spring will be forever indebted to Summer but we did not come empty handed.” I started, Tarquins gaze shifted to me, pondering our words. I pulled out the parchment I had prepared in my bag. On it wrote:

Animus meus est.

Ancilia dimittam

“Do you have a daemati that serves your court?” I asked as Tarquin studied the words on the page.

“Yes, Vili.” He answered.

“Would you please call for him?”

Tarquin sent his guard to find Vili. He looked back at me confused. “Are you not a daemati?”

“I am,” I responded, “but I think it best to have a man you trust for this demonstration.” I continued, “you see, for years, Tarquin, I have hated being a daemati. I believe your mind should be your own, and if someone wishes to change how you think, they should have to show you, in their actions. My brother has been abusing his daemati powers to control the other High Lords for his entire reign. Tamlin shared his memories of the past few years with me and I saw through his eyes at the High lords meeting. Rhysand was controlling the words expressed by Tamlin and I suspect he was doing it to you and Kalias as well. Him and his ladies stole a priceless artifact from you and you resended the blood rubies just like that?” Tarquin was invested. I assume it was Vili who entered the room and stood next to Tarquin, head held high, he didn't trust me either, with good reason.

“On the paper I have given you is a spell, I spent many years studying in the libraries of Aretuza, and that spell has been tested and shown to render daemati powers utterly useless.” Daematis were supposed to be healers of the minds, something incredibly necessary in Prythia especially after Amaranthas cruelty, but that kind of power being genetic instead of earned is how people ended up being terrorized instead of helped. I have tried for years to rid myself of the curse I feel daemati to be.

“You can use it on me. Vili, I request that you monitor my mind as Tarquin performs the spell.” Tamlin offered.

“The first line is the spell that applies a metal shield, protecting and encompassing the entire mind. The second line drops it.” I explained.

Tarquin looked at me hesitantly, then spoke the words, directed to Tamlin. “It's gone, no wall, no entrance. I cannot see anything. He might as well not even be here.” Vili noted aloud.

“I feel fine, great even. Like my head is clear.” Tamlin announced.

Tarquin then uttered the second line. “I can see it again, his walls.” Vili exclaimed, shocked.

“Why give me this information, I have yet to agree to help you?” Tarquin looked at me.

“It's not a payment, Tarquin, it is a gift. If the only thing I gain out of you having this information is that the Summer court is slightly more protected from my brother's antics, it will be payment enough.” I assured. “I do not expect a reply today, please, consult with your advisors, make a decision that you are comfortable with. I understand that this is just a stepping stone towards a hopeful friendship.”

“You have made a compelling case for an alliance, Sky. I do not wish to hold your brother's actions against you.” Tarquin consoled.

“I appreciate that,” I smiled at him, and Tamlin squeezed my hand. “I would like to spend some time this afternoon at the wonderful shops you have in the town square, but, if you would prefer us to head straight home we will.”

“You are more than welcome to enjoy the city, as long as what ever you happen to leave with is acquired honestly.” Tarquin said with a knowing smile. “However, I must warn you that my people might not be the most accepting of you, they have suffered great losses.” He added softly. “All I am saying is, if you want a true Summer experience, you might want to utilize that shapeshifter you have next to you. Just for right now.”

“Oh, that is a good idea.” I pondered and turned to Tamlin, “help me blend in, just for today.”

He was hesitant at first, but with a gentle hand I felt his magic encompassing me. I looked into the large mirror on the wall. I was still myself, just less Rhysand-looking. My wings were gone, and my violet eyes turned to a soft light brown. Changed, just enough, as to not worry the people of Summer.

“Perfect, let's go shopping.” I smiled. We both bowed to Tarquin as a sign of respect and made our way to the pier.

♡♡♡♡♡

Tarquin had invited us to join him to dinner at one of the beach view restaurants on the pier. As the High Lord of Summer, him and his company naturally experienced certain perks amongst the restaurant owners.

We sat at a large table on the patio, and I was entranced by the view of the sea, the waves crashing into the shore and the various colors out where the sea met the sky. It was an effort to pay attention to the conversation taking place between the two High Lords.

“I'm glad you're enjoying the view, Sky. I can still sit and stare at it for hours myself.” Tarquin doing his best to include me, offering understanding at my fascination. “I was still young when my family and I were trapped under the mountain for all those years, as a child of Summer, being denied these sights was just one of the many tortures I endured.”

I offered him an understanding smile, and reached to squeeze his hand. Amarantha truly hurt so many of us. Tamlin had shared his memories of the few months he spent under the mountain, while I practiced the mental healing the daemati powers were supposed to be used for. Tarquin had lived that for 50 years. “To come out the other side, still holding softness and kindness in your heart, shows me just how powerful you truly are. There is so much strength in being gentle.”

“I can only imagine the experiences you've faced that have made you this wise.” Tarquin returned the smile, then turned to Tamlin, “You are a lucky man, Tamlin. I hope to have someone by my side someday that can match her beauty and grace, if the cauldron sees me fit.”

“My advice to you, don't wait on the mating bond. Tamlin and I fell in love a long time before it snapped. Put yourself out there, fall in love because you choose to, not because the cauldron thought you would make an interesting pair. Sure, you're gonna get your heart broken at times, love is messy and beautiful, painful and wonderful. That's what makes it worth it. A woman wants to know you've chosen her out of your own free will, not because some outside force tied you to her. She wants to feel loved because you want her to.”

Tarquin pondered my words for a moment. “To fall in love with the possibility it will fail is a scary thought.”

“Oh absolutely, but have the courage to do it anyway.”

The conversation ended as the waitresses brought out the feast Tarquin had ordered for us. Crawfish, shrimp, potatoes, corn, eggs, and crab legs boiled to perfection and seasoned perfectly and generously. I was happy enough that I didn't have to cook tonight, but this looked divine. I had always heard that Summer court had the best food. The rumors were true.

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic

[velvet-paradox]

Stay (ch. 5)

Feelings - Kruger is a real friend - Confessions in the night -The hurt Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, angst, there's some smut in here folks!

This was a mistake.

A misunderstanding, surely you cannot be thinking fondly of the man, The Collector, who took you so many months ago now. Away from your family, your parents, your friends, your village. Many a night you cried over and over, with nothing to do about your situation.

No escape plan.

The last capture for ransom had been slain, her aid, one of KorTac's own, fucking blood eagled. You did not desire the same fate, although you played along and kept your mouth shut, eyes alert and aware of your current and now future surroundings, sometimes you prayed to the Gods for that same fate.

Death would be better than suffering at the hands of The Collector and his clan.

But then…

You missed him. You truly missed his presence. You shouldn't, you wish you didn't, you pray to the Gods to give you the strength needed to get rid of these feelings.

Maybe it's because you haven't been touched, haven't hugged or embraced anyone. Been held on to, been loved. You're lonely, afraid and scared and need to be told 'it is going to be alright', you wait for the moment to come but it never does.

This home, this new home wasn't yours, but it somehow was wrapping you up in its' veins.

Eating in the hall, though full of song and drink, perfectly cooked meat and veg, you feel alone. That no one sees you there. You're a ghost, a figment until The Collector brings you meaning once again. No one bats an eye that you now sit, with your pillow, in his seat. That you drink ale from his horn. That you are slipping into place.

The singers give you a nod as you dine, Keeva's middle daughter, Tove, sits next to you, telling you how annoying her brothers are, how she longs for the twins to learn to speak to her. She looks just like her mother.

You can hear Price's laugh over the music, he's already had three horns worth and is jovial. Soap hands you a roll in passing. You're fitting in. Your smile is humorless as you wish you're parents were with you, here in this great hall, together again as it should be.

"Don't cry, pet. 's only a roll."

You hadn't realized you were tearing up. Wiping it away with the back of your knuckles before smiling at her plump cheeks. You opened your mouth but was stopped short when the double doors of the great hall were being pushed shut, the music halted, the dancing stopped and all was still.

Until you saw The Collector's figure, Ghost and Kruger behind him. Along with someone new, you couldn't make out anything as there was a bag over their head.

Blood on their hands, filth on their attire. You stood instantly, watching as if they were mist come into the hall, everyone burst into cheers and whoops and calls for more celebration.

And even though you could not make out König's eyes, you knew they were upon you, sat at the head of the table.

The air shifts and you feel guilt bite into your neck, slither up your spine. The way König makes you feel, weak and powerless; puny.

You thought he'd be cross with you, pissed that you had the audacity, without his knowledge and permission, to be taking his seat in the great hall. You thought he might even punish you. Hurt you.

But what he did was something else entirely.

He'd gotten cleaned up after all the praise for another well earned hunt. KorTac would have more than enough food to last the entire winter months, along with a few extra boars and two seals on this side of the river from Horangi's clan.

You laid in your bed, hearing König douse himself with water from a wooden barrel, blubebering away the hunt and getting the dirt and grime out of his hair, off his skin. He reeked of iron and soot, chipped bark and smoke.

"Are you still awake, pet?" König questioned through the open doorway with a pound of his fist on the wall above your head.

"Ja."

"Would you aide me in something?"

You were curious and frightful of what The Collector may need you for. And as you peeked into the room, you stalled instantly. Not only was König completely naked, he was bruised around his forearms and the back of his calves, most likely from sleeping on the ground for five days at a time. His hood was off. Bare to the world. You'd his scarred chest before but the tight muscles of his back, his shapely hips and rear, the thick bands of his thighs that were surprisingly tattooed with runes stood, out the most. Other than his burnt red hair.

"What um… what do you need?"

König merely turned his head to the side, exposing his incredible profile, the stubble on along his jaw, the lovely shape of his neck.

"Come here and I'll show you."

You swallowed hard and inched your way further into the room, the glow of the burning torches, the shadows it cast over his body were driving you mad.

You can do this. Youcandothisyoucandothis

You could feel the fucking heat radiating off his form, no longer reeking of blood and viscera, just him. The scent you had missed for days. König shifted and his back rolled before he was on you, one large hand grasped you around the neck, forcing you to stumble backward, the fur beneath your feet skidded along with you. Your back hit the wall before your head did and before you realized what was actually happening. His hair hung in his eyes, flickering in the light you squeaked upon seeing his face for the first time. A splatter of freckles across his nose, a pretty nasty but healed cut through his right eyebrow, scratches that have laid the foundation of his skin marked his face. A jagged line of battle along his jaw.

"Enjoying my place, are you? Sitting at the head of the table as if we are already married. Like it belongs to you," König snorted and shook his head, the ends of his hair slotted against his long lashes. "Does it belong to you, pet?"

You shook your head nervously.

"Hmmm would you like it to be?" König asked with a tilt of his head an smirk on his lips.

The Collector was looking over your face, moving his hand up to your jaw, tipping your chin to look at him and his haunting gaze.

"I don't… how do you mean? I've only sat there tonight, I swear! I won't do it agai-"

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to belong. At the head of the table," with his other hand, he angled himself down closer, your breathing out of control as the predator had his prey, his eyes on yours. "Or maybe I should place you beneath it, back to the floor where you belong."

"I don't want to be on the floor again. Please uh… bitte." Tears prickled your inner corners and for some unspeakable reason, you had never been this wet between your legs.

"Bitte? My you have been learning so well." König praised which made your caged in with a naked giant you were crushing hard on, made things worse. You were thisdamnclose to breaking out in a cold sweat.

"John and Keeva have most patient."

König's thick eyebrows went up with your answer. "Ah, yes they have. I shall have to send my regards. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not I mean… I am looking at you but I don't understand, no one sees your face. So why am I?"

"Precisely. Only I allow that luxury, my men have seen my face after battle, that is all. Now you so you should take it as a high compliment that I'm being so generous with my body, ja?"

You nodded once more, too scared to look away.

"Not even Ada?" The question fell out of your mouth like the coins you had helped collect.

"Ada?! My my you have been a busy hase, ja? Nein, she has never seen my face and what do you know of Ada anyway? Who have you been speaking to?"

"Just hat she's like your play thing I guess."

"My play thing? Nein nein, she is KorTac's play thing, she has sex with whoever she wants, who can pay her handsomely. That's her business. Her appetite is quite vast."

You broke the intense silence and looking at each other when you brought up your hand, satisfied with his answer, it jerked when you touched the hand on your face. König huffed and locked eyes with you.

"You said you needed my help."

König's face twisted into a devious little grin with sharp teeth like the monster he was.

"That I do, something has come over me as of late. This ache I have for you grows with each day, this has never happened to me and it is making me dizzy and tired," his confession had your mouth falling open with each passing word. "It is hard to focus when my heart has become so consumed. And I am certain in this light, that you have only gotten prettier since I have been gone."

You swallowed, trying to keep your breath even before you spoke.

"Took you that long to notice?"

König barked out laughter in your face, a genuine smile and reaction. "Oh woman, how you wound me so! I have missed your wit. Just what I needed. And nein, I realized your beauty the moment I saw you. Pissed off, head full of bravery."

You didn't miss the way he flinched when you licked your dry lips. The was being drained from the room with each passing second.

"I need your touch, pet. I don't want anyone the way I want you. Will you help me?"

….

He walked you over to his work table in the corner of his room, knocking aside tools and weapons, a clay pitcher of water and half eaten, half torn loaf of rosemary bread. He sat you on said table with little to no effort, reminding you of how easily he had picked you up around the middle when he took you.

"Hike up your night dress, my dear, just there is good enough."

You'd averted your eyes for so long that when you did dare look down at his cock your whole body shuddered. The size, the weight, the pre-cum practically drooling from the tip. Larger than any other prick you'd seen nor allowed into your body.

"Cross your legs, just like that. Very obedient you are, my dear." He huffed out.

You didn't understand why you were requested to iclose your legs when you thought he wanted the warm of your cunt. How strange.

But it made sense when he told you, after taking hold of his cock and spitting down on it, that he would not be penetrating you tonight. That would come later.

It felt so peculiar to feel a cock slip between your knees, at an angle he thrust his rock hard length back and forth where your kneecap met the back of your top leg.

The grunt he let out when he found a steady rhythm, rocking his trained hips into your leg, scooching the table on its legs, hitting the wall gently.

"Fuck. Been dreaming about this, seeing your face for real and not using my imagination to conjure up how pretty you are. How soft your hands are, wishing and praying to the Gods that one day I shall relish in the feel of them on my skin."

His hand balled into a fist before punching down on the rocking surface. "I want you."

You couldn't deny it any longer, not with waxing poetic, aiming his cock between your legs, sweating and shaking with desire and passion.

That's what it was!

You had become not only involved with The Collector, intertwined into this new life, with its' new people and language, but you were passionate about it. The helping of others. The give and take so easily and freely you found yourself sliding your hands up his stomach, smiling when he flinched and fixed you with a stare so hot you thought he might just set you alight.

"Let me. Let me touch you. I promise, König, you will not regret it."

This time it was his turn to nod in response, words had since failed him since he'd grabbed your top thigh, grounding him as he fucked the space between. You could feel how slick he was getting. Your smile, wicked as could be, as you began to familiarize yourself with his body. The markings, the tattoos, the scrapes, the freckles above his bely button. How he trembled when you touched a deep gouge to his shoulder, outright sighed with satisfaction when you pressed your lips over it.

"Oh my pet, you have yet to fail me."

"Do you think I will?"

"If you know what is good for you, you will not. Come here."

He continued his thrusts, moaning against your neck, wrapping his arm around your own, anchoring himself to your shoulder, nuzzling your face until you finally turned your head and captured his lips. He licked his way inside right away, which wasn't surprising as he was at his breaking point, whining into your mouth. A sound you never thought had erupted from this mans vocal chords before.

"Oh it's happening, it's finally fucking happening, it's coming!" König grabbed the back of your head then, pulling away from your now puffy and slick mouth to look at you.

He opened his mouth and with the lowest groan and call of your name he came, rope after rope of his hot load shot out of his trembling body, slithering down your leg, across the floor. When you touched the crown of his cock lightly he hung his head against your shoulder and released another shot through your fingers, mouthing thanks.

….

You rode that high like a horse! You, you of all people, made König a sloppy mess and it wasn't even from your pussy or mouth. Hands free. The sounds he made, the way he rested against you for stability, the way his mouth slotted perfectly over your own. How he smelled. How he tasted. How sweetly, The Collector, had asked you to stay.

You made you way down the village lane, side stepping Tove running after her brothers. There was a chill in the air now, crisp were the mornings, cooler, like now, in the evening. The leaves that had changed color awhile back had now all but fallen into piles, crunching under your boots, laced with frost.

It was a decent morning, your head held high as you knew something no one else here did.

As you eyed a necklace, a very similar shade to the emerald around your arm, a voice, one of the most pleasant and calm hit your ears. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I am rather pleased to see you alive and well."

That voice sounded very familiar and as you turned around on your heel, you smiled at Kim Hong-jin, decked out in thick furs, a very beautifully detailed cloak and fur wrapped boots up to his shins.

"Mr. Hong-jin, what a pleasure."

"Ah, you have a good memory. I see you are settling in for the winter as well here, very nice shade I must say."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, please. If you are still able to walk and breathe, you can call me Horangi. Is your host around? We must discuss the winter rations and cautions." He asked, adjusted his attired with ease and grace that only a man of his caliber could carry. He gave head tilt.

"Um, I believe so. Shall I take you up to the great hall to sus him out?"

"Lead the way, pet." Horangi said, extending out his arm for you to take, making your way back towards the hall.

The hall was less packed this time of day, the musicians were practicing by the large hearth, two young girls stoking the flames to keep the room cozy. No König.

His room; empty.

The large room he held meetings and discussions in; bare.

The kitchen was bustling but still no Collector.

You tried to hide your embarrassment when König could not but located, Horangi didn't mind though. In fact you thought he might be enjoying this time, milling about KorTac, speaking of tales and telling storied that hung within these walls. How close he and König were, had been thick as literal thieves.

You came to a foreign space at the back, there was a cell of sorts with iron doors and some sort of locking mechanism. You could hear someone talking but it was too faint to make out. It made you curious and gave you pause. When you turned to tell Horangi you were sorry, the door at the very end of the corridor creaked open.

The instant slap of skin on skin echoed out into the hall. Another slap, another moan, another step back as Simon walked out, both hands covering his groin.

"Apologies!" he exclaimed, you could hear delight in his voice. Uncertain if it was from actually seeing you or what he'd been up to behind that door. "I haven't seen you in two days time, thought for sure you might have cut and run. And you bring a guest, Horangi, my brother, how are you?"

"Quite well, and well escorted by pet here. My Ghost… are you ill? You are sweating quite profusely."

"Exertion will do that. Ada can be quite the handful as you know, needs a good fucking to put her in her place as you well know yourself, brother." Ghost panted with a shrug.

"That I do. Is the big man around, we have matters to discuss before the first frost arrives."

"He is but… he is indisposed as of currently. He could talk you through it if you like." You didn't miss the way Ghost tilted his head at you, louder sounds of pleasure or pain, or perhaps both met your ears and before you knew it, your feet were moving. Still within earshot of the two intimidating men, you pushed the door with your boot, bile rising in your throat.

"I can wait, I shall take my leave get something fresh to drink in your great hall."

"Of course. Our house is your house brother. I shall send him out your way once he's finished."

Soap was on some massive bed, bending over a voluptuous naked woman. His thrusts sloppy at best, he couldn't even form words, the woman couldn't either as you watched The Collector grab a sharp hold of her face. You hated everything in that moment. The world around you slowed as König pointed at her with his other, gloved hand. Barking at her, orders, commands, filth.

He eventually turned his head at the last second, catching your eye and the moment you took off, pushing past Ghost and Horangi.

You ran.

What else were you so supposed to do?

How fucking naïve of you to believe König had true, honest feelings for you. How idiotic. You were merely a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less. He'd tricked you, spoiled you into thinking because he was bare to the world and to you, showed his face, his lust, his thirst, that it would only be for you. How foolish.

You ran out the front doors, boots sticking into the mud like boulders on the cliffside of the fjord, imbedding into the wet soil. Down the lane, up the hill, through the houses of the village until you hit open air. The familiar clearing. The training field grounds.

You dropped to the dewy ground, your head to the grass, covering the back of your head as you cried your little heart out.

Only left along with your thoughts, how he made you feel, how apparently you made him feel all went tumbling away. You felt sorry and stupid for believing the horny words, the advancement in relations. You felt so high on your horse and now you pelted down like earth beneath. You grasped and tugged at your hair as the thought of that night made you sick now.

"What did he do this time?"

You didn't even hear even hear Kruger, the stealthy bastard, spinning one of the wooden practice swords in the setting sun of the bruised sky.

"Who?" You asked, it was rhetorical of course. You lifted you head when Kruger crouched in front of you with the end of the sword.

"König of course. He's the only one who makes you cry. Every Gods damn time. Look at you." Kruger shook his head, hood swaying when you started bawling again. He put the sword aside and sat down with you, gather you up in his arms. An embrace, endearment for the pet of clan.

You didn't know how long you cried, when you finally stopped. What you did know was that you were hanging upside down, drifting in and out. Kruger had you hefted over his shoulder, gently walking back to the village. Your eyes fluttered closed once more.

You kept your eyes closed when you felt him drop you down to your bed, drowsy from crying so much your cheeks hurt, the muscles tight and aching. There was a shifting sound from The Collectors side of the space.

"It is none of my business what you've done to her, but for the love of Odin, bitte, treat her better."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If she's not training, she's crying. If she is not eating, guess what? Now pet is sobbing! Poor thing, I am surprised she has any water left in those eyes." Kruger scolded the leader.

König sighed and mumbled something out of ear shot, their heavy steps retreating as you drifted off to sleep.

tagging: @powerfultenderness

[kaigarax]

Fix You

Uchiha Madara x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone that you've experienced loss with."

The dark hair of the Uchiha never went well with black. Or at least that's what Madara’s younger brother Izuna had thought. Izuna had always told Madara that it looked rather tacky against their pale skin and even darker hair. How ironic it was that now dozens of Uchiha clan members were now dressed in that very same black that Izuna had once mocked. All dressed in that very same black for him.

Not that he’d ever be able to see it.

Madara sits at the head of the room and off to the side, beside his brother’s coffin. The crowd sits facing Madara and Izuna’s coffin sitting on mats placed on the ground rather than at a table like Madara.

It’s cold at the head of the table.

Much colder than he remembers.

Much colder now that he sits there alone.

In a time of warring, such as their own, funerals are often short and quick if they even happen at all. Most of the time funerals consist only of the closest family members burying the body of the deceased if their bodies even happen to make it back. But when it came to the heads of the households more formal situations, like this one, were held. And sometimes even heads of households didn’t even get this much.

Ah yes. The time of war has always been quite unforgiving.

It’s quiet, Madara thinks. Apart from the quiet murmuring in the back and slow movements of people coming in and out of the room to give their condolences. There's significantly less sobbing than Madara had expected. He supposes that has to do with Izuna’s lack of female companionship. There had been his grandmothers and mothers who were all long passed, the few friends he had gained in his more cognitive years and you.

You.

The oddball of the Uchiha Clan. Actually, even that title was a disservice to you. You weren’t even part of the Clan, instead brought there when you were young in hopes of the Uchiha teaching you how to properly use your eyes. Not so familiar to their own eyes but closer than your own Clan’s Kekkei Genkai.

You sit at the back of the room, your eyes covered with a white bandana. It’s a bright contrast to everything and everyone else in the room, drawing Madara’s eyes to it. The rest of your clothing is black. Madara thinks that, unlike the rest of his Clan, you wear the colour quite nicely.

Your head is down and you’ve yet to approach him to offer your condolences - so instead he chooses to approach you. Both as head of the Clan and Izuna’s brother.

“(Y/n).”

You tilt your head up, “Madara.”

“No honorifics?”

You don’t bother to say anything back, instead turning your head towards the front of the room. Madara can’t see where your eyes are looking but he knows for certain that’s where your gaze lies. Anyone else might’ve been fooled but not him. Not him that’s known and observed you for years. Not him.

---

Your movements are swift and quick as you dodge the kunai thrown from different directions. There’s such an ease to your movements that anyone watching would certainly think they’d be able to do it as well.

It seems as though you make use not just of your sight but hearing and smell while in the midst of battle. Though it has always been obvious, at least to Madara, that sight has always been your highest advantage. Even against the Sharingan your eyes proved to be quite the foe. Izuna had always theorized that those eyes of yours allowed you to glimpse into the future but Madara could tell there was more to that. Just seeing into the future was not enough to impress Madara, and boy was he impressed by you.

You’re flexible in a way that other ninjas aren’t. Your fighting style is unorthodox and likely not developed through movements you’ve learned from others but rather ones that you’ve likely come up with yourself.

What seems to be the most impressive thing about you though is your age. You’re a few years younger than Madara but seemingly more in tune with your own abilities and skills than he was when he was your age. Almost as in tune with them as he is right now.

He’d never cared all too much about you before but right now, you were certainly worthy of his brief attention. He understood why the Clan elders, and his father, had even humoured the thought of letting you stay with the clan in the first place.

You jump over the kunai thrown at you before going down to the ground quickly and kick the legs of your practice partner, sending them crashing to the ground before you quickly pounce on them, pinning them to the ground.

Quite impressive, indeed.

You laugh, holding your hand out to your opponent, “you have to remember to use multiple levels when you’re fighting.”

Your opponent rolls their eyes but Madara can make out a hint of a smile on their face as they take your outstretched hand, “as if anyone but you can move in such a sporadic way.”

“What’re you looking at, Ni-chan?” Izuna asks, taking a seat beside Madara.

Madara turns to look at his younger brother, feeling that familiar fondness in his chest. Even now, when they’ve grown so much he still refers to him in such a familiar and childish manner. Madara knows, of course, that it isn’t exactly behaviour he should indulge in but he does nonetheless. It’s his precious younger brother, afterall.

“The (L/n) girl.”

“Oh,” Izuna’s face brightens and his cheeks flush, “what about her?”

Madara shrugs, “I was curious as to how good she was in her skills. The elders were thinking about sending her to the battlefield soon.”

The clan could certainly use someone like you. Not just were you quick and decisive in your decision making but you managed to take on three older opponents at the same time when most people your age could barely handle one. The tides of battle would certainly shift with your unique abilities.

Izuna, on the other hand, seems to think otherwise as the colour drains from his face, “What? They can’t! She’s from another Clan! Wouldn’t that be breaking their trust or something?”

Your Clan knew the deals they made when they handed you over. Madara knew what both Clans had already intended when you joined - and at such a young age at that. Apparently though, his younger brother, Izuna, was not privy to such things. But then again that would be Madara’s fault for shielding him from Clan politics in the first place.

His precious younger brother.

Madara's eyes seared Izuna’s face curiously, “she won’t always be part of another Clan.”

---

The funeral had gone on longer than Madara had intended. He’d been forced to leave early and people had only stopped going in and out only after he returned.

Tomorrow morning they would bury him and then they would declare war on the Senju. Tomorrow Madara would claim revenge in the name of his brother. Tomorrow everything will be different.

But alas, tomorrow was yet to come. It was still today, regardless of whether the sun or moon were in the sky.

Madara’s surprised to find that you’re the only one left in the funeral room. You’re sitting over by Izuna’s coffin, the white cloth you usually wear over your eyes missing. Your heads down, pressed against your knees that you’ve curled up into your body and your back leaning up against the side of the coffin. Madara, as he nears you and the coffin can see that you’ve tied your own white cloth over the place of where Izuna’s eyes would be. The gesture is almost as sweet as it is romantic.

Madara thinks it must not be very comfortable but moves to take a seat beside you anyways.

Unlike earlier today, you speak first, “I’d always known that one of us would die. I just didn’t think it would be him, and this soon.” Your voice is hoarse and raspy.

Madara sighs, “I never realised how close the two of you were.”

“Yeah.”

It’s strange, Madara thinks. He doesn't think he’s ever seen you quite like this before. Not when you heard that your mother died and your father had already taken another wife. Not when you’d fallen out the tree during training or when you’d taken a knife for one of your companions. Not even when your clan abandoned you, leaving you here all alone.

It’s strange. He’s never seen you quite so broken.

“It’s funny.” You say.

Madara turns to look at you, “what is?”

“Izuna used to always make fun of me for wearing something over my eyes. It’s funny that now he’d wear something over his eyes now that he’s gone.”

“Did he…” Madara trails off, unable to finish his question.

You finally look up, seeming to grasp onto the words left unspoken, “yes,” your (e/c) eyes meeting with his own dark ones.

Madara suddenly feels entranced. Unable to remember what he had planned to say in response. It’s a colour uncommon not just to the Uchiha Clan but your own as well. Even among the other Clans and communities your exact eye colour is uncommon. A shade of (e/c) with flecks of gold and silver. If there ever were eyes meant to be caught and entranced in then they certainly must be yours. Madara had never seen a point to you constantly wearing eye covers but knew a point could be made purely because of its beauty. Something that should only ever be shown to those most worthy.

The edges of your eyes are red and puffy, as if you’ve been crying all day and night.

He wonders if he should bring an arm up to comfort you but the two of you have never been all that close.

Instead, you bring your own hands up to his face. Your eyes staring deeply into his own.

---

‘Make sure she doesn't get hurt, okay?’ The words of Izuna ring in Madara’s head as he leads you deep into the heart of enemy territory.

The Clan had been commissioned to partake in a reconnaissance mission and had chosen to send the two of you. The Uchiha’s most promising youth. Or at least that was what his father had claimed. Madara, while having seen you train, had never been placed on a mission (or even been on a battlefield) with you before. He did hear that you were quickly moving through the ranks but you weren’t even an Uchiha in the first place. Not that he’d ever say that to his father.

‘Make sure she doesn’t get hurt’ are the last words of his brother, constantly ringing in his ear.

Clearly the Clan leaders thought you capable enough to not get hurt critically if they sent you a mission as important as this one. Izuna clearly needed to calm down a little. Besides, it’s not as if Madara didn’t look out for his fellow Clansmates anyways.

Madara stops abruptly, sensing a certain disturbance in the air.

There was a trap set here.

He motioned for you to stop.

You pulled at the cloth at your head, quickly stuffing it into your pocket. Madara almost forgot where he was for a moment. Your eyes were such a breathtaking colour. One that certainly would have caused any enemy to freeze up if not for some special ability they might have than for their beauty alone.

He’d heard that your eyes were impressive but up until now he’d actually hadn’t gotten the chance to see you without them.

Madara was never one to easily get distracted but right now he suddenly found himself unable to look anywhere else. He almost claimed that you had placed him under some Genjutsu. Or maybe even a curse. How else could he explain such a reaction?

Your gaze never stays in a single place for very long. Your eyes are quickly scanning your surroundings and Madara can tell that your mind has begun to work faster. Taking in much more information than you usually do.

Then, your head shoots up and your hand shoots out.

You grab an arrow seemingly out of nowhere before it comes in contact with the tree beside the two of you.

Your eyes lock on a spot far off in the forest as you reel your arms back before sending the arrow flying back in the direction that it happened to come from.

Wow.

Aren’t you just a wonder.

Izuna clearly hasn’t been on the battlefield with you yet. Being able to do something like this is a level of skill Madara hasn’t seen in someone (apart from himself and Hashirama) in a long period of time. And in someone so young.

So this is why the elders praise you so.

Why have they planned for you to one day marry into the Clan.

Madara’s own heart does this strange little dance as he watches you. He quickly pushes it aside, of course. This is not the time to be mooning over some girl like a love-sick boy. No. This is the time to focus on the battle at hand.

Time to complete the task set out for them to accomplish.

Madara follows you towards the direction you threw the arrow in.

There’s a man pinned to a tree by the arrow, just inches away from his neck and tightly to his clothing.

---

“He loved you quite a bit.” You say.

He loved you too, Madara thinks. His brother had never directly said those words before - and always did his best to keep his feelings hidden but Madura did always have an inclination towards his brother’s feelings.

It seems that you might have loved him back. If your red rimmed eyes and softly gifted cloth meant anything.

And perhaps, Madara might love you as well.

He’ll keep you safe. Make sure you never look this down ever again.

Fall in love with someone that you’ve experienced loss with.

[great-and-small]

hey i know this is really heavy but... My pet of 13 years was put to sleep yesterday morning and I was wondering if you have any tips on handling the loss and absence of him. My whole family is struggling really hard and I would appreciate it.

Anon I have been thinking about how to answer this and what words of comfort I can offer you in this time of grief. I have held the hand of so many people through the death of their pet and still I oftentimes find myself at a loss for words. It’s something I think about a lot, so I’m sorry that this is quite long-winded.

I was driving my grandmother to a doctors appointment a few weeks ago and she was telling me about her first dog, a Boston terrier named Guppy that she’d had since she was 8 years old. She told me that during her first year in college she received an unexpected phone call from home out of the blue. In those times, phone calls were expensive and you really only got an unscheduled call when a relative or loved one had passed away. She told me that as she was walking to the room to take the call she had prayed to God that the news on the other end of the line would be the death of her own grandmother, rather than the now geriatric Guppy who had been sick for some time. It was a call about Guppy of course, and my grandma told me she’s been guilty her whole life for wishing that a family member had died instead. She told me that she was intentionally sharing this story with me because she didn’t want me to ever feel guilty if I grieve the loss of my dog more than I do her death someday. She told me that the love of a pet is something different, and losing it hurts in a different way.

This was a morbid story with a morbid sentiment (though entirely in character for my grandma) but it got me thinking about the nature of our grief for pets. They are such constants in our lives that in many ways losing them can be harder to bear than the loss of someone who matters to you in a completely different way. My grandma didn’t love her dog more than she loved her relative, it’s just a different type of grief.

Do not let anyone (including yourself) minimize your loss, because your pet was here, they were important, and your love for them mattered immensely.

So now let me say this; I am so happy that your pet was able to spend 13 years with a family that loved and treasured them. I hope for every single one of my patients to have that safety and warmth and affection, your pet was lucky to be so dearly loved. That said, here are some little things that I will recommend to people who ask me for help in dealing with the loss of their companion.

Take things one day at a time. This sounds like a cliche and maybe it is one but I found it helped me. Try not to think about the future without your pet, but focus on getting through the day, especially in the short term after the loss. Take care of yourself and your physical needs as much as you can.

Actively grieve your pet. By this I mean, dealing with grief is hard work that cannot be ignored or put aside. Rather than shying away from memories of your pet, take the time to purposefully think about them and the life they shared with you. It hurts and it sucks so much, but there is no shortcut through it.

Memorialize your pet. This can be anything, but try to find a way to honor your pet’s memory. Make a painting, or volunteer at an animal shelter for a day, donate old blankets to a vets office in your pets name, make a rock garden, buy a fruit tree and plant it somewhere, put together a photo collage of your pet. Doing little things like this helped me more than anything else when I was grieving my dog.

Talk about them. It seems so dumb but I swear it helps. Talk about what they were like when they were little, what funny things they did to make you laugh, what it meant to have them by your side through all those years. It doesn’t have to be a therapist, but find someone kind who can listen to the stories about your pet that made them who they were.

And most of all please know that someday (maybe not soon, but someday) it will hurt less. In the meantime please be kind to yourself as much as you can.