#YOU YOU YOU SCREAMING SCREAMING SCREAMING OH JOYOUS DAY!!!! JOYOUS DAY!!!!

[alternianavenues]

AAAARRGHH!!!!!! WAAAAAAARGH!!!!!! SOB SOB SOB!!!!! UUUUUU!!!!!

I've really been laying it on thick with the fan classes. Maybe I should do a master post of them at some point.

And naturally I drew @alternianavenues 's freakum guy in his hot soup. Mmmm jejrik flavor

(You guys should really check them out they have absolutely delicious art and character design)

[steddieas-shegoes]

as the poets say

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote “he is half of my soul, as the poets say” from the song of Achilles by Madeline miller

rated m | 2589 words | cw: injury, hospitals | tags: angst with a happy ending, soulmate au, canon adjacent but diverged like two roads in a yellow wood, friends to lovers, first kiss

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍

He walks into the room, bleeding, crying, wishing that death would take him. He feels ripped apart, and maybe he is. The wounds he’s suffered externally are minor in comparison to the pain in his heart.

Steve can’t be found.

He’s gone.

Eddie failed him.

_______

It’s easy to lose your mind when you find your soulmate, to forget that the world continues to spin, that good things and bad luck continue to happen around you. The fullness of your heart clouds your brain, that’s what his mom always told him when he was young. She would know better than anyone.

When his Uncle Wayne took him in, he said the same thing. He’d never found his soulmate, had never felt the need to go looking.

If they’re out there, we’ll find each other.

Eddie didn’t want to find his. Not after what happened to his mom, not after seeing the faraway look in his uncle’s eyes when he saw two people holding hands or laughing together in public.

A soulmate would just cause heartbreak.

_______

Steve is easy to get along with. He joins the group despite Eddie’s hesitation, and he fits right in.

Gareth is the least enthused, but even he gives in when Steve bakes him his favorite cookies. It’s not a bribe. Allegedly.

Eddie is immediately drawn to him, but keeps his distance. He pretends that the effect he has on him is nothing more than an easy friendship.

It lasts roughly six weeks, three days, eight hours, and 52 seconds. 53 if you count how long it takes Steve to start kissing him back.

He realizes the moment their lips touch.

He almost backs away, but what good would that do? The damage is done.

Steve’s eyes blink open as they part.

“I knew it was you,” he whispers.

“I hoped it wasn’t you,” Eddie replies.

His words ruin what should be a joyous moment. Steve flinches, backing away as if he’s been burned.

Eddie regrets the words immediately, feels the ache he caused Steve like a wound in his chest.

“Oh,” Steve breathes out, looking lost. “Okay.”

“It’s-” Eddie tries to backtrack. “It’s not you.”

“No, right. It’s not you, it’s me. Got it.”

Eddie hates what he’s done, and the pull in his body is screaming at him to shut up, to take it all back, to apologize and kiss him again. Steve deserves better than this, better than him.

“No, it’s…that makes it sound like I’m brushing you off. I-”

“That’s kinda what you’re doing,” Steve interrupts. “And it’s fine. I get it. I’m not what you expected and no matter what I do to try to make you see me for who I actually am, you’re not gonna.”

Steve leaves and Eddie goes home.

He doesn’t tell Wayne about it, but it’s easy to hide shit from Wayne when he works so much. It’s even easier when all he does is lay in bed and cry into his pillow like the pathetic loser he knows he is.

Eventually, Wayne catches him hobbling to the bathroom with red, swollen eyes and hunched shoulders and he can’t keep it in.

“You go tell that boy you didn’t mean a damn thing and you’re sorry for turning him down,” Wayne says when Eddie explains. “You’re not gonna be a sad sack in my home for the next 50 years just because you’re scared of having a soulmate.”

“I’m not scared!” Eddie argues, but he knows he’s lying and he knows Wayne knows he’s lying.

“Ed,” Wayne sighs. “I know I’m a little to blame for this. I coulda told ya so much sooner about why I get so worked up about soulmates.”

“Yeah, you coulda,” Eddie crosses his arms defiantly, leaning back against the couch.

“Watch your mouth,” Wayne points at him, then rubs his hand over his face. “Your mom was the greatest person I ever met.”

“I know.”

Where is this going?

“Losing her is somethin’ I never recovered from.”

Wait…what?

“Me…either?” Eddie feels like he’s being tested on a subject he never took a class on all of a sudden, like the answers are obvious, but not to him.

“She was my soulmate and I was too late,” Wayne continues, dropping a bomb on Eddie’s lap with no instructions on how to defuse it. “She said we could lie and say you were mine and Al would never know, but I didn’t feel right doin’ that to him at the time. I’ve come to regret it.”

“You were…” Eddie stands, pacing the floor of the trailer. “You two were soulmates? Why would she stay with my dad if she belonged with you?”

Wayne gives him a sad smile. “Because she didn’t believe in soulmates before she met me. She’d been with a few guys in high school, and then stuck with Al for a bit before she met me. They’d broken up when we started talkin’, but she was already pregnant with you. Couldn’t do that to my brother no matter how shitty he turned out to be.”

“But,” Eddie opens and closes his mouth for a full minute as he realizes what Wayne’s saying. “But if you loved her and she loved you, and you were soulmates, something could’ve been figured out.”

“Maybe. Lookin’ back, I think we coulda done things different. But we made our choices then and I gotta live with ‘em now.” Wayne stands, puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Don’t live with the regrets I have just because you’re scared, son.”

_______

Eddie drives to Steve’s house, ready to apologize, but finds his eyes rolled back in his head, unresponsive.

He doesn’t run, but he wants to.

Something tells him to call Dustin, the freshman who gets on his nerves, but has looked up to him since the first day he joined Hellfire.

The next three days are chaos. Steve is barely present, headphones covering his ears as much as physically possible to keep this Vecna guy out of his head. Eddie doesn’t leave his side, can’t.

They don’t talk about the soulmate thing. There’s too much going on outside of that. It’s awkward, conversations between them stilted at best, but Steve accepts that Eddie isn’t leaving his side.

When Eddie is sitting across from Steve, watching as his eyes roll back in his head, waiting to be the distraction for Vecna so everyone else can kill him, it’s like his entire heart is outside his body, beating against the floor and the walls.

He’s not supposed to interfere unless he starts to float.

But even when he does, Eddie can’t do anything to stop it. He tries to sing, he tries to pull him back down, but it’s useless. Vecna’s going to win this battle, even if they do manage to win the war.

_______

The hospital is packed when he carries Steve into it, broken and bleeding, unconscious with the barest pulse to prove he’s still alive. Only one person is manning the front desk, turning people with minor illnesses and injuries away and telling them to come back tomorrow. The moment she catches Eddie holding Steve out of the corner of her eye, she pages a code and two nurses come running with a bed.

He sets Steve down and tries not to think that this will be the last time he touches him.

He promises himself that when Steve wakes up, when he makes it through this, he’s gonna make everything okay again.

_______

Steve doesn’t wake up.

The doctors don’t quite know why, but they also aren’t being given the entire story. They can’t have it until Owens shows up, and even then, it won’t be everything.

El got here four hours ago and hasn’t left Steve’s side, but she keeps giving weird grunts of frustration. Dustin didn’t tell him everything about El, but he knows she’s a government experiment with superpowers and if she’s frustrated, the situation isn’t great.

Dustin and Robin are inconsolable, and Eddie feels like he’s one more hour of unknown futures away from joining them.

He sneaks off to call Wayne to check in, let him know he’s alive. Wayne tells him not to leave Steve’s side, he’ll bring him clothes and food soon. Eddie tries to wash his hands and face, get rid of as much of the blood and dirt smudged on his skin, but realizes too late that it won’t matter.

Wayne will know he’s been hurt, too.

“He is gone,” El says quietly.

“What?” Eddie steps to the bed, checks the monitors still beeping to prove that Steve’s heart is still pumping and his lungs are still working. “He’s not gone.”

“He is not there,” she continues, tears gathering in her eyes. “I cannot hear him or see him. He is not in his mind.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Eddie knows he sounds crazy, and this is a kid he’s talking to, but he’s confused as to how she can make that determination.

“El can see into people’s minds when she concentrates. It’s easier with people she knows, but she didn’t know Steve as well as some of us do, so it’s taken her a while to get in there,” Will explains. “If she can’t find him in his mind, Vecna may have gotten to him faster than we could save him.”

“But he’s right here!” Eddie yells, much too loud for the quiet in the room.

Robin is crying in the corner, too scared to be close to where Steve is practically lifeless in the bed. Dustin is shaking his head. The others are just staring at Steve as if they can blink and he’ll be awake and telling them all how they’re annoying the hell out of him.

“He is physically here, but he is not in his mind.”

She leaves. Mike and Will follow her, and everyone slowly leaves the room while Eddie just watches Steve breathing.

_______

El doesn’t come back. No one does for over a day.

Eddie sits.

He waits for any sign that El is wrong.

He tries not to blame himself, but he knows deep down if he hadn’t rejected Steve, if he hadn’t been so fucking scared, maybe he could have seen this coming sooner. Maybe he could’ve stopped it from happening at all.

Robin swings by the next day, says she begged her mom to bring her for hours. Her parents want to leave Hawkins, and she’s already said she’ll run away before she leaves Steve here alone.

He isn’t alone, but he knows what she means.

She must not know about the soulmate thing. She wouldn’t want to be near him at all if she knew about him breaking Steve’s heart into a million pieces.

Except she makes a comment a few hours later, after a nurse has stopped by to once again check on Steve’s vitals, about how lucky Steve is for having such a great real soulmate.

So she knows, but she must not know.

He’s gotta tell her.

“Robin, I-“

A few quick beeps interrupt him, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and then a choking sound.

Eddie jumps up and Robin rushes to press the call button. Steve’s eyes are open and he’s trying to claw at the tube down his throat. Eddie grabs them as gently as he can, whispering that it’s okay, the nurse will take care of it, he just has to wait a minute.

Steve’s eyes are wide with panic.

He’s squeezing Eddie’s hands with a surprising amount of strength for someone who was basically dead only a minute before.

Eddie cups his cheek, and he falls in love.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. They’re gonna help you. I’m glad you’re here,” Eddie says quietly while Robin decides to run to the hall to get help.

He feels it growing the longer he’s awake, the more they touch. The reason he didn’t accept El’s words was because Steve was still there, Eddie could feel half of his heart still beating in Steve’s chest and half of his soul still deeply intertwined in Steve’s.

Steve won’t let go of him, even when the nurses try to get him to so they can check him. Eddie apologizes to the nurse closest to him, and while she must be annoyed at the inconvenience, she gives him an understanding smile.

“I wouldn’t let go of mine either,” she whispers to him before turning back to Steve’s IV line in his arm.

Eddie doesn’t let go.

Doctors come and go. Steve can barely talk, but they expect him to gain his voice back within a day or two. They suggest he have honey sticks and ice chips to soothe his throat and prescribe a breathing treatment to help clear up anything in his chest. He’s told to take it easy and stay as horizontal as possible until they can get him in for more scans. They don’t want him to start bleeding anywhere before they can reassess wounds.

Most of his physical injuries are broken bones, and there’s nothing to do for them except wait for them to heal.

He may never walk again, at least not without help.

His vision is worse than after his third concussion, but they’re already planning on prescribing glasses for him.

Things aren’t great, but they’re moving forward.

Robin has to leave before she gets a chance to really talk to him, which Eddie is secretly grateful for. He wants to have a minute alone with him, even if all they do is sit in silence, holding hands.

Which is all they do for a while. The hospital is still packed full of people in surprisingly worse condition than Steve, and extremely understaffed, so they just enjoy the peace of the room while they can. Now that Steve’s awake, they may put someone else in here to free up a room.

Steve taps his wrist.

“Hm?” Eddie watches as Steve tries to speak.

“Okay?”

Eddie knows what he’s asking.

“Everyone’s fine. Just worried about you,” Eddie smiles, rubs his thumb along the back of Steve’s hand as he answers. “You got the worst of it.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault the evil mind wizard clockmaker decided to try to kill you one bone at a time, Stevie,” Eddie picks up his hand and kisses the back of his fingers. “But let’s try to avoid other evil mind wizard clockmakers in the future.”

Steve doesn’t quite laugh, but his smile is enough for Eddie.

He’s quiet for a bit, his eyes closing like he’s falling back asleep. It only makes Eddie a little nervous.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says when he thinks Steve did actually drift off. “I was scared. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

Steve smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. “Mhm.”

“And I will make it up to you in any way I can for as long as it takes. Even if that’s forever.”

“Mmm.”

“And I can’t tell if you wanna yell at me or not right now, but if you want to, you can. You should, actually. Wayne was way too nice to me when I told him.”

Steve opens one eye and raises a brow. How the hell is he doing that?

“Do you?”

Steve snorts and closes his eye, settling further into the pillow and squeezing Eddie’s hand.

It could be a yes or a no, but either way, Eddie’s fine with it.

His soulmate is alive and he’s not afraid anymore.

[aphroditesmoon]

tide

clarisse la rue x poseidon's daughter

summary: clarisse and reader have been rivals since they first met, but when someone does a harmless prank ends up seriously hurting reader, she throws all thought aside to save her.

warnings: enemies to lovers ish, drowning, reader can't swim (ironic), cursing

wc: 3k

---

It's rare that any camper get to leave camp at all, and all of them getting to leave at the same time is even more suspicious.

But no one complained when they were offered a little vacation by the river for a day. Finally, a break from all the training and learning.

Unfortunate events usually follow along after good days, but as of this moment right now, you refused to think of the Gods' dirty games with each other and how you'd all eventually be used as pawns. Whatever hurricane coming after will be dealt with when it happens. But today isn't about them or any other war you'd be forced to fight in. Today is about the campers for once.

You lounged against a large rock in your dark blue swimsuit while the others played in the water, swinging themselves of the wooden bridge from a rope. Any animosity that ever existed between different cabins disappeared today. Everyone is one and the same, and everyone regards each other as family.

You dipped your toes shyly into the clear water as you leaned back on the rock with your eyes closed, bathing under the golden sun that lit your skin up like gold. The weather was as joyous as the people's exultation, There is a certain peacefulness that spreads in the air and it was nice.

The laughter and chattering provided a feeling of comfort that you find yourself lacking these days. Being a half-blood meant adapting to the uncomfortable and dangerous, and so these kind of days where you feel that you could just exist without a burdening expectation over your head is immensely appreciated.

Your sunbathing is interrupted when you feel a shadow looming over you, and drops of water falling onto your face. Opening your eyes, you're met with a dripping wet Luke Castellan grinning down at you. "Move, you dog." You squealed, wiping the wetness off of you. He shook his head violently, scattering more water over your body, making you scream out in annoyance. "I will kill you!" You declared loudly and shoved him with your feet, making him stop.

"What are you doing on dry land, daughter of Poseidon?" He asks, unaffected with your teasing threats.

"Don't last name me, and I'm sunbathing." You informed and shoved him to the side with your feet. "Sunbathing? You're supposed to be in the water, is that not your natural habitat?" You smiled despite yourself and shook your head.

"I'm perfectly fine up here, so you can continue having your fun down there." Luke nodded absent-mindedly. "Oh it's definitely fun, alright. Though on a random note, did you notice at all that a certain someone has been sending death glares in your direction?"

You frowned, "who-?" Luke interjects. "Don't look behind you-" too late, you turned around anyways. And lo behold, Clarisse La Rue's eyes met yours, and you have never seen her twist her head around as quickly as she did at the moment.

"Oh, her." You sighed. Luke gave you a curious look of curiously. "I never understood your rivalry, not even right now." You shrugged and closed your eyes back again.

"You can go ahead and ask her about it. She just can't stop finding issues with me, always in need of an argument." It's true, you thought.

Sure, there are plenty of moments where you fought first, wanting to get your lick back. But it was all in response to her hostility first. And even now, on a day where everyone ought to enjoy themselves, she would rather stare you down so intensely, ruining her own day.

You still remember the first time you realized that she hated you. It was after you were claimed, while everyone else was in a pleasant mood, mostly surprised. Her expression is one of annoyance. Because how dare anyone here shine brighter than her. You both were still so young at the time. But it only got worse over time.

She had thought that you'd subjugate yourself to her like some coward. But you stood your ground, a daughter of Poseidon would not cower from another half blood like a spineless creature.

And as much as she's a vengeful fighter, you could also see the glint of admiration growing in her gaze over time. She didn't want to admit it, but she had finally found someone her own size. You, of course, usually dealt with things as pragmatic as you could, but some bullies are begging to be bullied back.

It wasn't all bad though, sometimes it was even fun. Like two children being petty for the sake of pettiness.

"At least one of us is enjoying our day." You thought aloud. You didn't miss the scorned expression on Clarisse's face before she looked away. "Are you enjoying your day?" Luke asks, folding his arms together.

He always thought he was good at reading people. And maybe he was with some people, but you pride yourself in being unexpected. Sometimes you say things you don't mean and do things you wish you didn't have to just to get by. People only knew things about you that you wanted them to know. Let them in a few stories and they'll think they've successfully interpreted you.

And as much as you liked Luke, he is not an exception.

"Yes, I just told you I am." He hummed in question, making you open your eyes again. "You know it's not everyday we get to leave camp like this, and you're spending it on dry land? You can sunbathe anytime you like back there."

"Why are you so keen on getting me down there?" You inquired, amused. "Because there is no way you're getting me to get in there, I mean I just had hair wash day."

"Are you sure about that?" Before you could answer, he had bowed down and grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Luke-" you shouted out, the sudden movement taking you by surprise. It was easy to understand what he was going to do when he began running towards the bridge. You felt your blood run cold.

"Don't throw me in! I swear to god Luke-" You yelled with all your heart, but the boy seemed to assume that you were joking as he laughed at your words.

"Off with the fishes you go!" He responded and swung you off of him and straight into the large body of water. You were sure that your scream probably reached Tartarus itself as it definitely exceeded your lung capacity. The last thing you remember screaming out was 'I'm going to kill you', but those words had died on your tongue in a speed as you fell deep into the river with a splash, causing everyone near you to run out in shock.

You could hear some laughing and clapping as you melted into the water, but it all started dissolving until all you could hear were gurgles and distorted noises. You felt yourself begin to struggle while you flapped your arms around, trying to stay afloat. You were sure that you were going to die when no magical breathing miracles saved you from suffocating and drowning.

You flapped your hands and feet harder, attempting to mimic swimmers, hoping that you'll somehow take up swimming naturally despite never learning to do so for your entire life. The irony of being a daughter of Poseidon that can't swim isn't lost on you, it is exactly why you never told anyone about it. If they knew, you'd be the joke of the camp.

A solid minute has surely pass before you gave up completely in ever swimming back up, now the doubt that you were ever Poseidon's child begins to creep in on your last moments of being alive. Because surely, even if you can't swim, your father could just magically pop you back up.

Unless he is just severely disappointed in your lack of ability and deems you fit to die instead of just humiliating him. And at this very moment, you honestly would agree with him.

Your last conscious thoughts are interrupted abruptly when you felt a strong push of ripple plunging into the river, you could barely open your eyes as you continued to sink in, but the sight of a recognizable face, diving straight your way, woke you back up from the dead.

You weren't sure how to feel as sharp and hollow pain began attacking your chest while you watched the brunette swim fiercely, her hair moving wildly like strong waves hitting shore.

Her right arm circles your waist as her left one slipped under your arm, urging you to grab onto her. And grab onto her you did.

She pulled you with her easily, her hold on you firm as she swam back up. Your head throbbed at the sudden fast movement, but once your head rises out of the water and you're able to breathe again, it slowly fades away, leaving you dizzy and grateful.

"There you are." Clarisse exhaled. She sounded relieved as she gathered you into an embrace, making sure you stay afloat. "Don't pass out, stay with me for just a little more."

I'm not passing out, you wanted to argue, even at this second. But the only thing that escaped your lips is a groan of agony. "Stupid fucking imbeciles." She cursed under her heavy breathing. You almost assumed it was targeted towards you until you noticed the plural nouns added in her sentence.

"I can't-" you started, "don't say anything." Clarisse interjected in a stern tone.

Your body was limp when you both finally reached land. Everyone moved away, letting you lie down against a large boulder. You felt Clarisse's hands slowly slip away from your skin, though she's still hovering over you with a worried gaze.

"Make way!" Chiron's voice thundered through the air. Clarisse turned a deaf ear at his command and stayed by your side, but for whatever reason, he didn’t reprimand her for it.

"Who's smart idea was it to toss your friend off into the river?" Chiron asks, scanning the confused and surprised crowd of people for any guilty faces.

Luke raises his hand, unafraid but apologetic. "I didn't know she can't swim." He stated honestly, and you hear some of the other campers agreeing with him.

Clarisse's eyes remained locked on yours. You wait for any sign of mockery to appear, a hint of condescending somewhere waiting to come out, but none appears.

You could hear Chiron sighing tiredly, "Well, no one did." And he's right, what Luke did was supposed to be a harmless joke. It is unexpected that you of all people would not know how to swim. Clarisse breaks her gaze from you as she turns towards Chiron. "They didn't have to know that she can't swim to be able to see that she was drowning." Clarisse snapped, her brows furrowed together. Before the situation could end up worse than it already has, you waved your arm up and yelped in pain. "I think I'm going to pass out." You lied.

"I can get her back to the tent back there." Clarisse offered, or stated moreso. Chiron granted her permission with argument, and with that the whole crowd dissolves back into the space the same way they were before, only some spared you some glances as Clarisse helped you walk slowly towards the small tent that's slightly further from the river.

The walk back was quiet, neither of you are brave enough to start a civil conversation. It was only after she had helped you sit criss crossed inside the tent and was ready to leave that you managed to insert a small thank you. She paused in her steps and slowly whirled around to face you. "I'm teaching you how to swim when we get back." She says as a response.

It was neither a threat or an offer. Taking your silence as an agreement, Clarisse nods her head once and walked off towards her siblings, leaving you distracted and deep in thought about what just

---

It was a paradoxical situation, and yet neither of you had it in yourselves to point it out.

Perhaps amiability towards Clarisse wasn't as difficult as you'd thought it would be. But your biggest concern wasn't regarding yourself, it regarded Clarisse and her own capability of remaining amiable towards you.

She was never one to practice self restraint. Everyone in the whole camp could vouch for that. And yet here she is, knee deep in the sea with her hands holding onto your wrists, ushering you in.

"You can't stay on the shallow level forever, you need to get in deeper." She repeated for the fourth time, frustration was visible on her face.

"No, I'm telling you I can't-" you argued. Clarisse sighed in annoyance, "I'm not going to let go!" She insisted. "Yes you will, I know this trick." You glared at her like an upset child.

Her anger almost diffused as you saw a hint of humor painting over her face, as if she's trying not to laugh in your face. "I'm not tricking you, I don't waste time on tricks. If I wanted to hurt you somehow I would've just shoved you in and left." She explained in a pleading tone.

"That's very reassuring." You responded sarcastically, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was strong. "Stop acting like a child." Clarisse chided.

Your eyes widened in offesne before you started pulling your arms harder to get her off of you. "Stop it!" Clarisse yelled out, her patience thinning. You said nothing and continued to drag your feet backwards, little movements were made as Clarisse was weighing you down like a log. "Let go of me." You demanded through gritted teeth.

Her face contorted in anger, and just as you began pulling again, she let go of you completely, "fine."

Unprepared for the push of gravity, your feet slipped against the mix of rock, seashells and water, making you fall on your back, squealing in panic. You flailed your arms around trying to balance yourself up, and just before your back would be plunged down, Clarisse scrambled to wrap her arms around your back, saving you from your fall.

"Oh my god." You gasped out, palms over her shoulders. "No god," she replied dryly. "Just me."

Relief enters your chest as your feet are flat against the ground again. But it was temporary, looking at her smug expression compelled you to act as stupid as you just did, shoving her off strongly, you didn't take into account that she was still holding you, and so as she crashed, you followed along on top.

"Oh my fucking god." Clarisse growled loudly spitting up water as you crawled off of her to stand up. "You did not just do that." Sitting up, she scowled and stared down at you, looking like an angry soggy kitten with her hair and face wet.

"Well, I did. What are you going to do about it?" You snarled, wiping water off of your face. "Hey, I am not a child throwing a tantrum like you." She snapped back.

"Oh, that would be a first time for you." You scoffed at her words and walked out on her.

"Where are you going?" You heard her call out. "Away from all this bullshit." You could hear her quickly running after you, water splashing loudly as she moved.

"Look, do you think I want to do this?"

You twisted your head around to meet her gaze. "Then don't!"

"Okay." She breathed out, shrugging like it didn't matter. "But it's clear right now, that everyone knows your weakness. And not even your own father has your back right now. I'm the only one who does."

The fire in you refused to die down, but her words reduced you to ashes. Your shoulders relaxed and you took her appearane in.

She's right, your whole life, everyone had given up on you, except for yourself. You taught yourself everything and you fought to survive daily from the horrors of being a forbidden child. And this one thing, which happens to be the worst weaknesses of all considering your position, is something you can't teach yourself to do. Hell, you couldn't even bring it up without feeling like shit.

But now it's all out in the open. The jokes might be bad, but what's worse is getting hunted down and killed in ease by monsters and gods who knew that you'd have no one to protect you, not even your dad.

"Why do you care?" You ask sincerely.

She was silent for a while, looking away immediately. Not embarrassed, just deep in thought.

"I don't know, maybe I just...I know what it's like. To feel helpless, to have to pick yourself back up. And normally I don't give two shits about what anyone else feels. But I know you, and you know me. And maybe-" She inhaled deeply and finally turned to face you.

"Maybe we can help each other."

You raised a brow, "and why would you need my help, you could, I don't know, take over the world if you wanted to."

She actually smiled at that, something you rarely see and hope you would do more of. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not perfect."

"So, what? Are we friends now?" You ask.

She shrugged her shoulders again, "Let's start with that, sure. Now, if you can get your ass back in here, I promise I won't drown you or anything, and you can actually learn how to swim like you should've years ago?"

You took a deep breath, wincing at the idea.

"It's not as hard as you think, I know it's terrifying to think of yourself in a position where you have no control." She attempts harder, stretching out her hands towards you.

"If I drown-" you started and was quickly cut off. "You won't. I got you."

If she had uttered this sentence to you about two days ago, you would've laughed because you couldn't imagine a situation where she would have your back. But today is a different day.

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.

---

Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.

The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.

So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.

...

John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.

When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.

John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.

"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.

"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.

John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.

"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.

"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.

"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."

"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.

"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.

---

Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.

That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.

[peachway]

My Fault: Lando's version <3

(fem!reader x Lando Norris) ��� warnings - mention of drugs, bit violence and little blood                    ✦ word count - 4.1k

A/N - I do not own the plot and except for few, all the characters belong to Mercedes Ron. The London Nick has my heart and he's literally Lando Norris so I decided to write a My Fault: Lando's version <33 I have changed the plot just a tiny bit. And in the series i have a used nickname for the FEM OC, 'FRESA' (meaning strawberry in spanish) happy reading ✨                                                                

Third Person’s POV -

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and blueberry muffins filled the air as Charlotte platted everything with beautiful flowers. She wanted to make breakfast for her daughter all by herself. She knew Fresa was going through a tough time after her recent breakup, and Charlotte was determined to help her daughter heal and move on.

With a warm smile, Charlotte carried a steaming mug of coffee into upstairs, where her daughter was curled up on her bed, lost in her thoughts. The sight of her little girl made her heart ache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Charlotte greeted softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and a faint smile touched her lips as she saw her mother, "I'm fine mom. I called Theo but he didn't pick." she sniffs.

"Oh it's okay, it's just a little break. This happens in long distance." Charlotte said stroking her hair

"Why does it feel like we have broken up?"

"It's going to be fine, give it a little time." Charlotte soothes her, "Now come on, breakfast is ready."

"Mom, I'm not hungry," Fresa said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Come on, baby," Charlotte coaxed, her voice soft but firm. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Just the coffee is fine," Fresa replied, retreating further into the cocoon of her blankets.

"I have a surprise for you," Charlotte offered, her smile widening, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"Come join me downstairs." She said.

Fresa finally agreeing slowly got out of bed and followed her mother downstairs.

"Oh wow these muffins are really good."

On the kitchen island was Fresa's bestest cousin, Chloe.

"Chloe!!" Fresa screamed, her face lighting up with immense joy. She ran and threw herself into Chloe's arms, the two girls hugging tightly, their laughter filling the room.

"Surprise!" Chloe giggled.

The joyous reunion then settled into a comfortable hum, all sat down for breakfast.

"Wow mom you made everything?" Fresa smiled, impressed by the efforts.

"I can cook you know!" Charlotte laughed.

"I did made the muffins...I well helped with the batter." she admits and to that everyone chuckles.

"So baby I was thinking," she began, "Chloe is here for 3 days. So you both can go wherever you like, whatever you want to do, you can go crazy....and since it's your vacations, you can go to London with Chloe."

"London?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. You know to see your dad." she said.

"Mom?" Fresa protested because her and her father's relationship wasn't in very good terms.

"You love Chloe right. Dad loves you too. I know he's done some stuff but he loves you baby." Charlotte says, "And you can also surprise Theo!"

"I don't know mom." she mumbled, taking a bite out of croissant from her plate.

"It'll be fun." she encouraged.

Fresa was initially hesitant, eventually agree. She did need some fresh air. And above that, she wanted to surprise Theo so bad.

Just as they landed Chloe informs that her dad had to go out on an important meeting and he was out of state and it brought a sigh of relief to Fresa. She still had to face him via FaceTime, however.

"Flight was alright, princess?" Clifford asked, his image flickering on the screen.

"Yes Dad." she replied.

"I'm out of town so stay with your sister for some time hmm?" he said, "I'll be there in few days."

"Okay." she replied.

"Call me if you any problem at all okay?" Clifford smiles. "Yes daddy." she nods.

"Chloe.." Clifford calls out.

"Take care of her. I don't want her to be involved with those guys. You Understand?" He warned.

"Understood uncle." she smiled.

"What was that about?" Fresa asked as soon as the call ended.

"Nothing." she dismissed.

"Listen baby, my boyfriend and I have take some time off work and are we currently living in one his villa near the forest."

"Okayy.." Fresa nods.

"So I'm gonna take you there. But please don't tell this to your dad. Please I request you." Chloe says.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because my boyfriend's father is kind of a rival to your dad and it's very messy. So please.." said Chloe.

"It's okay it's fine." she nodded.

Within an hour they had reached the beautiful villa. It was too perfect, mesmerising and straight out of a fairy tale. The modern white architecture blended seamlessly with the verdant darkness of the surrounding forest. Inside, the air was cool and subtly perfumed with the scent of flowers.

The first thing Fresa noticed was a framed photograph hanging on the wall in the living room: Two boys, standing on a race track against a race car. She could see the intensity in their eyes.

"Is nobody home?" she asked as only the butlers were present.

"Well, Liam is at work, and I think his brother might be in his room." Chloe replied, He's a dick. Don't fight with him,"

"Why would I?" Fresa raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't particularly have a good influence. He's a good guy, but don't get too involved with him, okay?" "Okay." she nods.

"You can change and relax a bit, then we'll go somewhere nice in the evening." She said removing a strand of hair from Fresa's cheek.

"Can I just go to my room and disappear with my books?" Fresa said.

"No absolutely not. I won't leave you in here like a gremlin rat." Chloe laughed.

Y/n puts on her bathing suit and decides of read her favourite book by the nice warm sun. She sat by the edge of the pool, her bare feet dangling in the water. She opened her book, the gentle breeze rustling the pages, it was very peaceful and soothing. She felt a little good after months.

But her calm thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, explosive splash in the water. The splash drenching her and the book. She glances over to see a grinning idiot in the water.

"Sorry!" he called out.

He propelled himself towards the edge. His broad shoulders slick with water. Dark, wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, and the sun gave his skin a golden hue. But his eyes— were the prettiest blend of green and blue.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"This is my house. Who are you?" he countered, hoisting himself out a little. The water cascaded down his hair.

Fresa’s eyes narrowed. "Either you're Liam or his...dickhead brother."

"Lando," he said, the grin widening. "The dickhead brother. I was told you were coming. Not so nice to meet you?"

"Fresa," she replied, with a curt nod.

"Wow worse than I imagined." He laughs to himself.

"Why were you on the swimming pool edge if you didn't wanted to get wet." he asked.

"I just wanted to read and now you ruined my favorite book." she said as water dripped from pages.

Lando's grin only widened. He came a little closer, "Come on, Fresa, lighten up. It's a pool, meant for swimming, not sunbathing with literary casualties."

The tension was broken by the sound of the back door sliding open. Liam and Chloe emerged, hand in hand.

"I get you two have met?" Liam chuckled, glancing at Lando. "Fresa, this is Liam, my boyfriend." Chloe introduced.

"Hi!" she smiles backed.

"Well her name is actually y/n but we call her Fresa since she was 2 because she loved strawberries.." Chloe explained.

"Strawberries seriously." Lando snorted.

"And that is my asshole brother." Liam chuckles with a playful jab at Lando.

"Are you done?" Lando sneered and dives back into the water.

Later at the brunch table Liam and Chloe discussed about the next plans since Fresa had come to spent her vacations there. Lando sat across from her, his wet hair now dried and curled, framing his face. He looked at her taking a bite of toast and smiled. Fresa rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him, and focused on her omelette.

"So we can go out for a nice dinner tonight." Liam suggested.

"Oh no listen bro tonight-" Lando began, but Liam cut him off, "No! Anna is coming today. You're not going anywhere."

"Who's Anna?" Fresa asked.

"His girlfriend." Chloe teases.

"Thank you for answering" Lando smiles mockingly.

"Lando you can't run from it. We're going out, dinner at 7. And you can't leave the house till then." Liam ordered.

"You're not dad." Lando retorted, standing up and leaving the table.

The evening approached and everybody was ready to go out. Fresa went with Liam and Chloe whereas Lando went separately in his McLaren. Fresa was nesteled in back seat, imagining Theo face when she’ll surprises him tomorrow and about all the things they’ll do together. It was cheery drive. But the good time was limited. Fresa receives a text from her friend who was in London, attached were the photos of Theo kissing another girl. Fresa's head started hurting and she couldn't control her tears as they overflowed her eyes. She didn't wanted to ruin the mood so she didn't say anything to anybody.

After reaching the restaurant Fresa tried to be composed and to stop her emotions but she failed. She stared at the menu, the fancy letters unreadable to her.

"Chloe?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Just then, Lando's phone rang, a sharp chime that cut through the restaurant's soft murmur. He excused himself and moved away from the table.

"Yes, baby?" Chloe asked "Can I go home?" she said.

"Is everything alright? You don't look good." asked Liam. "Just a headache," Fresa lied,"Can we please do this dinner later?"

Chloe squeezed her hand, her touch comforting. "Of course, no problem. I'll call you a uber." Her eyes, though, were sharp, searching. "But if there's anything at all, you can tell me, okay?"

Lando returned, his expression tight. "Listen, Liam... I have to go." "Where?" Liam asked.

"Work," Lando replied. "I swear to god, if you're again going to that bloody—" Liam began, but he cuts him off, "No, this is important. It's Lion. He called, he wants to meet at his place."

"Okay, go." Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly, "Wait, take her too," Liam ordered, gesturing towards Fresa.

"No. She can go by herself!" Lando shook his head.

"Lando!" Liam sighs.

"She's your girlfriend's sister, your problem not mine." He argued.

"Come on Lion's place is on the way to our home...go drop her home, then you can go wherever you want." Liam insisted.

"Fine." Lando rolled his eyes, "Come." he said to Fresa, his tone rather rough, offering no comfort, only a means to an end. The night, which had started good was now a mess of broken trust and forced companionship.

The silence in the car stretched. A little uncomfortable, as Lando sped away from the restaurant.

"So you like racing?" Fresa asked to break the silence.

"I loved it. Me and Liam both," Lando replied.

"That picture.." she said, remembering the photograph on the wall.

"It’s me and Liam. We used to go karting and racing together." Lando nodded.

"You don't go anymore?" she asked.

"No, I left. He made me." a shadow passed over Lando's face, "My dad." he said.

"Your dad?" Fresa looked at him.

"Please don’t talk about him. I don't talk about my dad," he said, his voice clipped.

"Why are you getting all prickly and irritated. Such a Typical spoiled brat." she said.

Lando's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The car swerved slightly, and Fresa braced herself. "What did you just say?" His voice was low. "Aren't you a spoiled brat too? Doesn't talk to Daddy but is still here to meet him. She hates him but loves his money." He said.

"You know nothing about me," she said, her voice a low, tremor.

"You know nothing about me either. Yet you judged me. I'm not a spoiled kid" he countered.

"Okay leave it. I don’t know what I just said." Fresa gave up.

"Is this your way of apologising? Because you're terrible at it." Lando scoffed, the bitterness clinging to his tongue.

"Why should I apologise? I've been told you're a dick and you're kinda proving that right now." she said.

"You're the one who started it," he snapped.

"I told you to drop it," she hissed.

"I would have if you had simply just apologised." said Lando.

"I'm not apologising." Fresa glares.

"Get out." he suddenly says, his voice cold and flat.

"What?" Fresa stared at him.

"I said, get out of my car," he repeated, his eyes fixed on the road. "I'm not taking you home."

He pulled the car to the side of the road.

"You're not serious?" Fresa's eyes widened.

"Dead serious," he said, his voice hard. "Get out."

They were far from the city, on a dark, deserted stretch of highway.

Fresa glares him, she gets out of the car and slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Lando drives away leaving her all alone.

He rushed through the dimly lit streets. The roads seemed the type where all the illegal shit happens. He reached at the location and pulled up beside the Camaro there. Lion was slumped in the driver's seat, his face pale and streaked with blood. "What the hell happened to you?" Lando growled, his voice tight with anger.

Lion's palms were sweaty, his eyes wide with fear. "Nothing, man, I tripped. But forget that, I have a bigger issue!" He held up a medium-sized package, his hands trembling. "My brother told me to deliver it here and told me not to open it, but I'm an idiot. It's cocaine!"

"What the hell Lion! If you wanted money, you could've just asked me. Why are you doing these kind of things?" Lando cursed, his frustration boiling over.

"Forget about that, man, help me out now!" Lion pleaded, his voice cracking. "Don't go in there then," Lando said, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the pub.

"They'll kill me, Lando!" Lion cried, his voice laced with panic. "Well what do you want me to do?" Lando asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Come with me, I will mess things up! I need some support," Lion replied, his eyes pleading. "No!" Lando shook his head

"Okay, let's go back home. The person I was supposed to deliver this will come after me because this is worth 1 lakh pounds! And I will die just because you didn't come with him there!" Lion said, his voice rising in desperation. "God, you're so dramatic. Okay, Fine." Lando sighed.

Just as they were about to go in Fresa slid into the back seat of the car. "What the hell are you doing here?" The already angry Lando snapped.

"I left my phone in your car!" she countered, a simple shrug dismissing his expressions.

Lion, perched back. "That's your new girlfriend?"

"Shut up!" Lando retorted, his face flushing. "I had called you a cab and rather than going home you followed me?"

"Yes. I had the location on so it was pretty easy." she replied.

"You could have waited for me to come back home!" he scoffed.

"You irritated me so much, now I’ll irritate you. What are you doing here anyways?" She asked.

"We need to go—" Lion began, but Lando cut him off with a sharp glare. "This isn't a game, Fresa. You need to leave. Now." he ordered.

"No" she replied with a hint of defiance.

"Ugh, my god. Okay, stay in the car. We'll be out in a few minutes," Lando said but was she going to listen? No.

While Lando and Lion disappeared into the dimly lit back room to deal with Ronnie, Fresa, alone, wandered to the front of the club. She tried to blend into the shadows, but Ronnie's brother, Robert, had already fixed his gaze on her. He slid into the seat beside her,

"Hi" he greeted.

She doesn't say anything, just smiles back.

"Not much of a talker I see."

"Drink?" He said pushing over a gin to her.

With the anger over Theo she gulped it down without thinking much.

Meanwhile, in the back room, tensions were escalating. Ronnie had discovered a discrepancy in the weight of the package Lion had delivered.

"It's opened," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Dunno. I just delivered it as it got," Lion stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"It's missing 100gms ," Ronnie said, placing the package on a scale.

"Come on man it's just 100?" Lando said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You know how much it costs? That's gonna cost me thirteen thousand pounds," he glared.

"Thirteen thousand??" Lando repeated, his eyes widening.

"It's uncut. Pure." Ronnie said, "now I need my money."

"Fine. I'll get the money to you by tomorrow," Lando retorted, trying to maintain a composure.

"Tomorrow?" Ronnie shook his head.

"Look I can't just magically get that kind of cash okay? There's a limit on the ATM." Lando argued, frustration taking over him.

"Alright, fine. Go," Ronnie nodded, his eyes still holding a threat.

Lando and Lion sighed in relief, eager to escape. They hurried back to the front of the club only to see Fresa stumbling towards the exit door with Robert’s arm draped around her shoulder.

Lando ran over and pushes him away.

"Easy there boy" Robert yelled.

"Fresa!" Lando called. He cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek.

"She's a beauty isn't she." Robert smiled smugly.

"Fresa, look at me," Lando said, his concern growing into a burning fear.

"Lan..." she slurred, her words barely coherent. One drink couldn't do that and as far as Robert's reputation goes, he definitely drugged her.

"Here." Lando carefully lifted her onto a nearby table. Then, he turned to face Robert and his goons, his eyes a cold, unwavering stare.

"What?" Robert sneered.

With a swift, brutal movement, Lando's punch landed Robert's face. When the first blow didn't bring the man down, he struck again, this time breaking his nose. The guy falls down on the ground with the force and the temperature in the room rises.

Robert wastes no time in giving the fist back to Lando. From then it all became a chaos. Ronnie came to the front and joined in the fight. Everyone started hitting each other like crazy, they'd hit with whatever is nearby, the glasses, alcohol bottles, chairs and what not.

Nobody touched Fresa. She was just sitting in the corner, not understanding what was actually happening in front of her. When she saw a woman pointing a knife at Lando's back, she quickly grabbed a glass from the table and breaks it onto her head.

"You bitch!" The woman shouts. She slashes Fresa in her stomach and Fresa punches her back, both fell down to the ground fighting further.

"FRESA!" Lando yells as he tries to fight off Ronnie.

Suddenly faint siren could be heard outside and it wasn't long before the cops got there.

"POLICE, STAND DOWN!" The officers barge in with guns.

They got hold of Lando, Lion and Fresa and some others but Ronnie and Robert had slid out the back door. "Damn you officer, those goons ran away." Lando cussed.

"Lando Norris, you are enough for us." The officer said snapping handcuffs around his wrists.

This was bad. He was trying to get way from these types things as much as he can and now Fresa was a part of this too. She was trapped in a war she didn't understand. He needed to get her out of this. He needed to fix this. Ronnie already hated Lando and he surely won't let this slide.

As soon as they reached the station, Lando reached out to his lawyer friend, Anna. And secured their release by the following afternoon. Lando decided it was best for Fresa to stay away from her home right now so he took her back to his villa.

Fresa cleans up and sat on the kitchen island, her head pounding, her stomach churning. The aftereffects of the drug were still lingering, blurring her thoughts and making it difficult to focus. She felt disoriented and vulnerable.

Lando came in from upstairs and glanced at her as he made some ginger tea. "Here, it'll help," he said, giving her a steaming cup. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I just got drugged, stabbed and arrested. In one day! Oh I'm doing awesome!" she replied.

"I'm sorry." Lando apologises, his eyes filled with genuine regret.

"Where's Liam?" She asked.

"Dad called him back for an important case so he and Chloe went back. But they'll be here anytime soon."

"Does he know how much of a saint his little brother is?" She chuckled.

"No please don't drag my brother into this. He's clean. He'll kill me if he knows I'm involving in such things. Sorry please." Lando pleaded.

"It's okay. It was really my fault." She said.

"You told me not to come but i didn't listen and took that drink. God how stupid am I....I guess I was angry."

"On whom?" Lando asked, his voice gentle.

"My boyfriend, Theo....It was almost over between us when he moved here in London and I was trying to mend it. I thought it was because of the long distance thing but it turns out he was cheating on me."

"What a loser." Lando scoffed.

She chuckles and then hisses as she shifts in her chair and feels a sharp pain. Last night's wound.

"Can I see it?" Lando asks.

Fresa lifts her shirt and and he saw the red bandage gash above her waist, to the side. "You're bleeding through." Lando said, his brow furrowing. He hurriedly grabs the first aid box and guided her to the couch.

Then he carefully cleaned the wound. His touch surprisingly gentle. Fresa gripped Lando's shirt as the antiseptic stung, a sharp, clean pain. "I'm almost done," he reassured her.

The scent of antiseptic filled the air, an oddly comforting aroma. Fresa's gaze drifted to Lando's face, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was so close, every detail of his expression magnified.

As he finished bandaging the wound, his fingers brushed against her skin, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

The silence continued with only the chirping of birds outside. Lando's gaze lingered on her lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. She closed her eyes, feeling his lips brushing against her cheek.

Then his lips moved to hers, a soft, tentative exploration. The kiss was gentle, hesitant. But as she gave him access, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Her hands found their way to his hair, her fingers in the soft curls.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. A soft smile played on his lips. "Do you want go to a party?" he asked.

"A party?" she chuckled.

"No no! Not like last night. Liam and Chloe will be there too!" He laughed.

"So you're not angry at me anymore?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, still am," she replied, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "But maybe tomorrow, right now I'm in a little pain," she smiled.

"Wow, Chloe, look, the house is standing," Liam laughed as he entered with Chloe. Seeing them, Lando moved away, and Fresa adjusted her shirt back.

"What you kids do when we were out?" Liam asked, settling onto the couch.

"Played in the sand" Lando sneered.

"What happened to your hands?" Chloe asked, noticing Lando's reddened knuckles.

"What happened to you?" Liam asked, seeing Fresa's forehead wound.

"I, uh, don't know...I think I was drunk and I fell," she stammered a little.

"And you went for a boxing match, didn't you?" Liam glared at Lando. "You do boxing?" Fresa asked, looking at Lando. "I've told you a million times to quit, but you never listen, right?" Liam continued. "You didn't take Fresa with you, did you?"

"No!" Lando and Fresa replied in unison, their voices too quick, too synchronized, making them even more suspicious.

"Anyways where's Anna?" Liam asked.

"She's late, she had some important work so she'll come by tomorrow morning." Lando answers and Liam nods.

Anna. The words echoed through Fresa's ears. Did she just kissed Lando despite him having a girlfriend? Guilt washes over her.

[4.1k words]

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Severitus fic where little Harry, around 7 or 8, is an avid reader of fairytale books because he can imagine himself in another world. He loves all the ones about Knights saving Princesses from tall towers, and although he'd never call himself a princess, it was always his favourite scenario to imagine getting saved by a Knight in Shining Armour. One day he writes his own fairytale, where a Knight saves the young Prince from a troupe of evil monsters who had kidnapped him as a baby, and slaughtered his family. The Knight is everything Harry wants in a Dad personality wise, but he also had to look badass, so Harry drew him like the illustrations in his book, sharp boned men with long blonde locks and beautiful blue eyes, but instead gave him black hair and black eyes, so he could scare off all the bad guys. You know, all that good stuff. Harry adores the story so much, and he begins imagining his Knight whenever he's scared.

Upon a series of events which could cause Severus Snape to be sent for a Welfare check, because Dumbledore insisted a friendly face would help ease Petunias mind, Harry is met face to face with a man who has a shocking resemblance to his Knight(a little more grouchy looking than expected, and he'd imagined more luxurius hair, oh, and the nose was a tad big, but Harry had just been drawing dots so he couldnt complain), and coincidentally shows up at a time where he was getting seriously reprimanded by a red faced Vernon, who had a folded over belt in hand.

Harry is convinced Snape was actually his Knight, and from some unknown force he'd imagined him into existence. Meanwhile we have Vernon now screaming at Snape, who was ignoring him to focus on his conversation with a Sour faced Petunia, detailing why exactly he was here.

But anyway. More shit happens and basically Harry is taken away from the Dursleys by Snape and the whole fic is him following Severus around and calling him "Sir Snape", accepting everything about magic because it just further explains how he magicked his character into reality. He's also truly convinced he's a Prince, because Snape takes him directly to Hogwarts, a humongous castle, and everyone is treating him with utter importance. It's just meant to be fluffy okay but I think it'd be interesting if the POVS switched and with Severus it's alot darker, because at the point where he does care for Harry he's going through a whole "I can't look after him and work with the Dark Lord its too dangerous" thing, and it's just crazy whiplash jumping between the povs with Harry being filled with joyous fairytale whimsy and Snape going through the horrors. He's basically acting like a Knight through pov, because he's taking all the hits and Harry is allowed to just have some fun for most of it.

For endgame it'd be rather normal adoption or blood adoption so the wards stayed up. Thats probably my favourite route for a Severitus fic to go. It would be self indulgent as hell if I decided to write it.

OK thanks for my coming to my presentation

[gotta-winwin]

𓆩🖤𓆪 ... falling in love through songs pt.1

⭐ starring: vernon

💌 genre: fluff, light angst

💬 preview: you really wished someone would've told you that the rockstar you'd be photographing for on his tour was Hansol from school. Yes, that Hansol. Your ex-boyfriend Hansol.

tw/cw: rockstar!vernon x photographer!reader, second chance romance, exes to lovers, sworn enemies to lovers, forced proximity, a cheeky joshua, lots of banter, allusions to sex, weed + alcohol

🪽fic rating: pg/16+

☁️ masterlist & a/n: here i am once again with a vernon fic, but this time to kick off our 500 followers event! this one is based on the song heart out by the 1975, one especially close to my own heart. i know i said the release date was the 20th...but inspiration struck and i have zero patience when posting fics. enjoy!

p.s thank you so much to @lovetaroandtaemin and @chugging-antiseptic-dye for beta reading !

this is a part of my 500 followers event

“Hear me out.” Joshua spread his arms as if to hug the air in front of him. “The two of us, on tour, in a tour bus, a fat paycheck.” 

You pursued your lips, biting back a smile. His proposition had sounded tempting even over the phone, where he had offered you a photography job on the tour he was managing, a spot on the bus and front row seats to every show. 

“It’ll be fun!” He continued, driving the nail in further. “The guy I manage- he’s a chill dude, great rockstar. You’d get along great.” 

“What did you say his name was again?” You asked, looking over the contract he had given you one more time. 

“Vernon.” Joshua nudged your arm, pushing you to sign. “C’mon. It’ll be like the old days again, bandwagoning across the country in the name of making art.” He placed the last words in air quotations as he smiled. “And the paycheck doesn’t hurt.”

“Not at all.” It was a ridiculous amount of money. “When do we start?”

Clapping his hands, Joshua looked joyous to have you along. “First concert’s tomorrow, right here in New York. It starts at 8, but come earlier so you can meet the band first. I’ll introduce you to Vernon- oh, he’s going to be so psyched to see you.” 

As much as you loved his enthusiasm, the jitters of having such a high profile job was catching up to you, once again reminding you just how high the stakes were. You needed this job, for the money, for the recognition it’d give you - you needed it all. 

Flashing Joshua a bright smile, you nodded, looking more confident than you felt. “Great. I’ll go home, pack my things, and see you tomorrow!”

“Alright, sunshine.” Joshua chuckled as you struggled to put your coat back on, your childhood nickname rolling off his tongue like second nature. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“This was not the fucking deal, Josh.” 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you stared, open-mouthed at the boy in front of you, decked out in silver chains, ripped jeans and sporting a backwards baseball cap. He all but screamed rockstar, yet you keep circling back to the fact that-

“Hansol?” 

-the fact that you knew him. Very well, in fact.

“Y/N?” 

He seemed just as astonished to see you, eyes darting suspiciously towards Joshua. “This, is my tour photographer?” 

“This?” You cried out indignantly, turning to Joshua as well. “Did it just not cross your mind to mention that your rockstar happened to be Hansol from school? You lied to me!” 

“Well-” Joshua put his hands up in defence, the large grin on his face betraying how much he was enjoying the moment. “Surprise?” 

“Joshua!” Both you and Vernon yelled out, anger escaping as the two of you contemplated whether or not throttling Joshua would be worth the consequences.

“I am not staying on a tour bus with her.” Vernon pointed an accusatory finger your way. “Especially not for four months. I’d rather throw myself off a cliff.” 

“I’d rather chop off my own finger and eat it.” You hissed back, equally disgusted at the idea of sharing your space with him. 

“Contract’s signed.” Joshua shrugged, his eyes dancing with mirth as he watched the two of you glare daggers at one another. “Jeez. It’s like the air in here could kill or something.”

“I do not want to breathe the same air as him.” You stabbed a finger at Vernon.

“I hope you choke on it and die.” He punctuated the last word with fervor. 

“Ditto.” 

Joshua let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m starting to regret this. Were you guys always this...stabby?” 

“Yes.” Chan poked his head out from the green room. “Ever since they broke up they’ve been literal bitches. Whatever happened to hey, Chan, we’ll still be friends! This won’t break the friend group apart!” He frowned, disapprovement evident on his face. Time still hadn’t erased the betrayal he had felt when the two of you broke up, killing their friend group with suffocating silence. 

“Whatever.” Vernon muttered, turning away, shoving his in-ears back into his ears. “Stay away from me.” 

“With the utmost pleasure.” 

You had to begrudgingly admit that Vernon looked good doing his thing onstage. Vernon. It was still odd to even call him that, when you had known him your whole life as Hansol. 

Raising your camera, you followed his every movement onstage, staring at him through the viewfinder. He looked almost iridescent under the lights, shining alongside his jewel-encrusted microphone as he rapped, commanding the stage. 

“He’s doing well.” Chan slid up behind you, cradling a bundle of wires in his arms. Your entire high school friend group seemed to have conjoined once again, following Vernon on his tour as various supporting crew members. You supposed all the credit went to Joshua, who had been the only one to keep in contact with everyone else. 

You hummed, eyes still trained on Vernon. 

“Remember when we used to make fun of this? Vernon onstage?” Chan shook his head in mild disbelief. 

You could remember it as clear as yesterday, leaning against Hansol in the school courtyard as your group laughed, thoroughly amused by whatever rap he had performed that day. “Everyone told him it was impossible.”

“Except for you.” Chan looked at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah.” It was surreal to see him thrive in a life you had basically built with him. You were at his first audition, every coffeehouse show, sitting by him in each shabby and rented studio. “I never thought he’d get this big, though.” 

The sheer size of the crowd had been overwhelming at first. You were greeted by the venue’s cheers when you had entered, taken aback by the crowd and by how many fans Hansol had gained. There were fans waving banners, glow sticks, and various trinkets dedicated to him as they cheered, already excited despite the main act still being backstage. It was a bitter pill to swallow: the idea that he was so beloved. 

“Maybe you should forgive him.” 

You whipped your head to look at Chan, insulted by his suggestion. “I’m not forgiving him.”

“He’s changed!” Chan protested. “He doesn’t actually hate you, he’s just- being stupid.” 

Rolling your eyes, you recalled all the times Hansol had hurt you. “I am not forgiving him.” You repeated, more firmly than the last. 

“Y/N.” Chan’s eyes pleaded with you. You knew the youngest member of your group still believed in fairy tale endings, but this was harsh reality, and Chan needed to learn that. 

“He broke up with me, Chan.” You turned back to the camera, ending the conversation. “I’m not forgiving him.” 

“Hey, man.” Joshua moved Vernon’s headphones off his one ear, catching his attention. “Haven’t you tried…just talking to Y/N?” 

Vernon let out a deep sigh as he turned to face him, rolling his shoulders back as he mulled the idea over. “What’s the point? We just end up fighting either way.”

“Yeah, but try actually talking to her. Nicely.” 

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed. “How do you do that?”

“Boy.” Joshua pushed Vernon’s forehead with a finger, shaking his head disapprovingly. “How did you even start dating her in the first place? Be nice. Ask questions. Sound interested. It’s not that difficult, Non.”

Vernon had to begrudgingly admit that a part of him did want to speak with you without a fight. He was longing to experience the kind of conversations you had shared with him before, splitting open your heart and baring your soul to one another without fear of judgement. Conversations long forgotten by now.

“I’ll talk to her.” Vernon promised Joshua, moving his headphones back and returning to his laptop. “Don’t worry.”

Joshua nodded, glancing over at Chan, who shot him a knowing look, pointing his chin towards the bunk beds, where you were sitting, blissfully unaware of the conversation that had just taken place. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Vernon staring down at you from his spot on the bunk ladder, hands clutching the rails as he balanced himself on the third rung. 

You greeted him with a noncommittal grunt, hoping he’d leave you alone. The amount of tour photos still to be edited on your laptop was overwhelming, and you were in no mood to fight him today.

“Whatcha doing?” Vernon followed up with a question, rocking back and forth on the spot, a lazy drawl in his voice. 

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden interest. “Editing your photos.”

He leaned down for a better look. “They look good.” 

“No.” You sighed, your shoulders sagging a bit at your words. “The colors are off, and the saturation- I can’t get the lighting to behave.” Waving vaguely around the photo where his face was, you sighed again. “It’s not doing you any justice.”

“Are you saying I look good in person?”

Yes. But you’d never admit that. Coughing as you tried to save face, you shot him a heavy side eye. “No, I’m saying it makes you look uglier than you actually are.” 

“You still fucked this ugly person.” 

“A stupid teenage mistake I’ll never make again.”

He fixed you with a withering stare. 

“Are you done now?” You asked, moving your eyes back on your work. “You should leave, unless you want me to release these with you looking ugly.”

Vernon hopped off the ladder, muttering something about why he even bothered trying in the first place.

“Hey.” Joshua invaded your space next, poking his head into your bunk. “I saw you talking to Vernon.” A meddling smile crossed his face when you swore under your breath.

“Nothing special, Josh.” You pushed his head away from your laptop. “Stop trying to stir the pot.”

Ignoring your statement, he continued. “How was it?”

“The conversation? Bland.” You grimaced. “Vernon? Same old, same old.” 

Joshua frowned. “Meaning…what exactly?” 

“Same inflated ego, same dumb face.” You looked up from your laptop once again. “Look. I really need to get this done. So-”

“I got it.” Joshua squeezed your hand before climbing back down, an amused smile on his face the entire time. “Just play nice, alright?”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you returned to stare at Vernon’s picture, hating how perfect the universe had allowed him to be.

The air was biting and cold as you stepped off the tour bus for the first time in eight hours. Placing down your bags to stretch your legs, you contemplated whether or not it was really worth it to spend a night off the tour bus if it meant rooming with Vernon. 

Both Joshua and Chan had insisted it was the only sleeping arrangement that would make sense. 

“I am not sleeping on the couch.” Vernon announced as you both stepped into the hotel room. 

Throwing your bags on the floor, you let out a guffaw. “You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t care where you sleep as long as it’s not next to me. Also, I’m showering first.” 

You looked up from your bags to see him sporting a shit-eating grin, already making his way to the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“Bitch!” You yelled after him, growing more annoyed when you heard him laugh behind the door. 

“How original.” He called back, the sound of the shower turning on reaching your ears. “Don’t try and peek.”

You scoffed, setting your things on the countertop. “I’m not stupid enough to blind myself.”

“Bitch.”

“Who’s unoriginal now?” 

Cringe pooled into your stomach as you replayed the immature spat you just had with him.

Joshua’s words from the previous night echoed in your mind as you listened to the sounds of Vernon showering, mindlessly unpacking your bags for the night. You’re both adults now. Just talk it out. Play nice. 

Perhaps he had a point about the two of you being adults now. 

“Y/N!” 

The sound of your name coming from his mouth jolted you out of your sudden epiphany. Turning, you spotted a dripping arm poking out from the bathroom, the door opened to a crack. 

“I forgot to grab my clothes.” Vernon mumbled, his ears pink as he poked his head out, eyes pleading with you. “Can you-”

Play nice. Fighting everything in you to not laugh, you nodded, moving over to his suitcase to pull out his clothes, pointedly avoiding eye contact as you handed it to him. 

A snort escaped you as the bathroom door slammed shut. 

A thoroughly embarrassed Vernon stepped out a few minutes later, his hair dripping water onto the carpet, his eyes cast downwards as he made his way to the work desk in the corner, setting up his laptop and the various pieces of equipment he used to produce.

“I can hear you laughing.” He mumbled as he sat down.

Your shoulders shook with the effort to keep quiet. “I’m not laughing.” 

“I can see your shoulders shaking.”

Pulling a chair to sit a few ways away from him, you watched as he began to work, the sight bringing back old memories you thought you had forgotten. Watching him produce late into the night as you laid in bed, the dimmed lights of his laptop keeping you company. 

“What are you working on?” Your voice was soft, quiet, gentle. An olive branch.

Vernon moved his headphones to the side, glancing at you before returning attention to his multicolored launchpad. “Music.” He restrained himself from adding the duh he knew was unnecessary. 

“New song?” You leaned in for a closer look. 

Vernon’s lips twitched, knowing full well you couldn’t understand what you were looking at. “Old one. Wrote it a couple months before we graduated high school.”

You hummed. “Can I hear it?” 

He seemed surprised at your request, his fingers pausing as they hovered over his mouse. “Sure.” 

With trembling hands, he removed his headphones to place them on you, adjusting them until they fit snugly over your ears. 

You got something to say? Why don't you speak it out loud Instead of living in your head? It's always the same Why don't you take your heart out Instead of living in your head? It's just you and I tonight Why don't you figure my heart out? It's just you and I tonight Why don't you figure my heart out?

Vernon’s voice dripped like liquid gold into your ears as you sat and listened, entranced by the melody and taken aback by how nostalgic the music was. This was the Vernon you had known. None of the current rockstar bravado you had seen him display onstage. The Vernon singing in your ears was the same Vernon you had fallen in love with, baggy jeans, unkempt hair, a knack for telling bad jokes. This was Hansol. 

The music ended as you faced him, catching him staring at you already. 

Vernon had always loved watching you absorb his music. 

“Heart out is special.” He mumbled, knowing the words wouldn’t be heard by you. “Wrote it about you.”

The idea had sparked within him one night, after realizing that maybe he just wasn’t a man of many words. How he longed for you to just take apart his heart and understand him that way. 

“Hansol-” You started, taking off the headphones and placing them on the desk in front of you. “We need to talk.”

He nodded. “I-” I still love you. The words caught in his throat. 

“I’ve been thinking about what Joshua said. About us being adults now.” The words spilled from your mouth as you finally bit the bullet. “He’s right. We’ve been bickering like children when we should just talk it out. Talk it out, and then we can both move on. Leave the past in the past. Walk separate ways.”

There was something about the way he was looking at you that made your heart putter to a stop. “But I don’t want to walk separate ways.”

“What?”

His eyes met yours as he repeated himself. “I don’t want to walk separate ways. I want to walk together.”

Rage coursed through you as you stared at him, appalled by how simple he was making it out to be. “You can’t say that.” You blurted out, standing up and pointing a finger at him. “You have no right to say that.”

“Y/N-”

“No.” You cut him off, your tone hard, feeling your eyes well up with sudden tears. “You have no right to say that. Not when you were the one who was cruel.” 

“I wasn’t-” He protested once more, only to be cut off by you again.

“You broke up with me.” You reminded him, your voice holding a steely edge. “Over text. And then you blocked me with no explanation. You made me suffer for months before we graduated- and then you just left!” A stunned laugh escaped you as you relieved your past together. “You have no right to ask for more.” 

“Y/N, please.” Vernon grabbed your hands, clutching them tightly in his. “I- I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Why did you break up with me?” You asked, a question that had been killing you all these years, rotting away as it sat, unanswered. 

Vernon opened his mouth and nothing came out. He closed it and looked away. 

“Of course.” Something between a sob and a laugh echoed from your lips as you pulled your hands away. “You haven’t changed at all, Hansol.”

Vernon watched you walk away, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. He picked up his headphones and continued to work, ignoring the ache in his chest as the music blurred before him, fresh tears clouding his sight. Vernon knew you were right. He hadn’t changed. All these years and he was still a coward, owning a heart filled with a hundred things to say to you but a mouth that refused to help. 

Vernon couldn’t help but look your way as his concert progressed into the night, sneaking glances towards your section as he plastered a look on his face that he hoped passed as ‘chill.’ 

He hated how your camera seemed to be pointed everywhere except at him. 

Although Vernon would never admit it, he could still remember all the times he had been the focus of your shots, smiling at him from behind your camera as you chided him to stay still. His insecure teenage self had always hated being the center of attention, but now that he had grown and learned what it was like to lose you, he found himself missing once being your muse. 

Perhaps it was time for him to speak out, he thought, as he watched your eyes flitter across the crowd. 

Why don't you speak it out loud Instead of living in your head?

A sickening pang landed in his stomach as he lowered his microphone, his own advice seering through the front of his mind.

He had to tell you that you had never stopped being his.

The tour bus reeked of alcohol and puffs of weed as the band relaxed after their last show. Declining to drink, you sat next to Chan, keeping a watchful eye on the group as their designated sober friend. 

You hated how painfully aware you were that Vernon was missing. It was a habit you still couldn’t kick -- how you still seemed to be hot wired to notice him first, even in a crowded room.

“Y/N.” Joshua poked your ribs to catch your attention. “Vernon’s looking for you.”

Frowning, you scooched away from him to avoid the liquid that was sloshing dangerous from his cup. “Why?”

He shrugged. “He’s waiting outside.” 

You found him sitting on the curb, a few meters away from the bus, scuffing his feet against the gray asphalt. An empty can of beer sat by his side. 

“Hansol.” You could tell from his composure that he was drunk. “Let’s go inside.” Walking closer, you tried pulling him up by his arm, failing as he continued to sit.

Vernon let out an unintelligible grunt. 

“Hansol.” You repeated, suddenly getting a strong sense of deja vu. “We’re not children anymore, Han. I can’t keep picking you up each time you crash out.”

He looked up at you with red eyes, an all too familiar pout on his face. “Y/N.” 

“Hansol.”

“Remember how we used to play two truths and a lie?” He suddenly asked, echoing the countless times the two of you had played the game for fun. “We never finished.”

“What?” Your throat suddenly felt awfully dry as you recalled the instance he was referring to. That one time you guys had played, just a few days before your break up. 

“We got interrupted halfway by my mom. I never got my turn.” He frowned when he realized you were still standing, your hand gripping his arm as yours dangled loosely by your side. “Sit down, let’s play.”

“You’re drunk, Hansol.” You reminded him. 

Shaking his head, he insisted once more. “Let me finish.”

There was nothing you could do but humor him, and you had to admit, you were curious as well. 

Vernon exhaled loudly before speaking, his breath hitting the air in wisps of smoke. “Okay. Two truths and a lie.” 

You looked down at your intertwined hands. 

“I broke up with you because I didn’t love you anymore. I never actually wanted to be a rockstar, not initially at least. And-” He paused, breathing deeply once more. “I’m still in love with you.”

You felt your lungs constrict and explode.

“You’re drunk.” Standing up, you pried your hands apart, throwing his back into his lap. 

Vernon nodded, his eyes unfocused as he stared at some spot on your jeans. “Guess.”

“Hansol.” Your tone sterned, knowing he was a few seconds away from passing out or throwing up. “Vernon.” 

Maybe you were the one who felt like throwing up. 

Because you knew none of the things he just told you could possibly be true. 

Vernon knew he had done something wrong when he woke up with a splitting headache, his ears ringing as he rolled out of bed. He had barely regained his bearings before Chan barged in, pulling the curtain that separated his bunk from the world apart. 

“Vernon, Y/N’s leaving.” 

A lighting bolt shot through his spine. “What?” 

“She told Joshua she can’t do it anymore. Something about having enough photos for tour posts already, so she’s leaving.” Chan stared down his disheveled friend, shaking his head. “What did you even say to her last night?”

“What?”

“She came back looking like she wanted to hurl.” 

“I need to go.” Vernon stood up, stumbling to put on his shoes as he unplugged his phone from the charger. 

Chan wordlessly pointed him towards your direction. 

“Y/N!” Vernon scrambled out of the bus, missing the last two steps down entirely as he ran to catch up with you. 

“Hansol-”

“I love you.” He panted out, the words escaping him like a breath of fresh air. 

The rejecting words you had been meaning to say caught in your mouth, slipping back down your throat and choking you. “What?”

“I love you. I always have.” He pulled your bags out of your hands. “Please don’t leave, I just got you back.”

“Hansol, I-”

He held up a hand, a wordless request to let him finish. “Let me tell you something I should’ve said years ago, please. Without the games this time. I love you. Hell, I never stopped. I broke up with you because-” He paused.

You half expected him to bail again. To let history repeat itself. 

“Because I was scared.” He finished, and you felt your lungs begin to work again. “I was being a stupid teenager who felt the touch of a real lover and got spooked. You were so fucking real and it terrified me.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

Vernon averted his eyes at your question, chewing at his bottom lip as he thought. “I guess the longer I stayed away the easier it was.” He let out a dry laugh. “You were already so perfect in my memories I didn’t want to risk erasing that by trying again and failing.”

“Why now?” You could feel your chin quivering as tears gathered, awaiting his answer. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” He stated simply. You used to hate the fact that Hansol was a simple man, thinking it meant he could never care for you in that deep and encroaching way you wanted. 

“You wouldn’t have failed.” You told him, because in your life it had only ever been him. “And I was never perfect.”

“You were to me.” Vernon held out his hand, a wordless request to try again. “You still are.”

You took it with no hesitation, because now, you knew simplicity was just his way of life. And to Vernon, loving you was the simplest thing to do in the world. 

[amirasainz]

omgg!! could you write baby!sainz going to the met gala and the grid watching the livestream of her walking the carpet 🤍

Omg, I love this story. I'm a huge fan of the Met Gala and Vogue. I hope you enjoy reading and don't forget to send some requests. -XoXo

The Met Gala

Amira’s excitement was palpable. The Met Gala—an event she had always dreamed of attending—was finally within her grasp. As a child, she would secretly stay up late with her Abuela to watch the glamorous affair, hidden from her parents’ knowledge.

When the coveted invitation arrived, Amira couldn’t contain herself. She let out a joyous scream, prompting Carlos Sr. and Jr. to rush upstairs in alarm. “Mijha, what happened?” her father asked frantically. “Papá, Papá! Look! I got invited to the Met Gala!” she exclaimed, her happiness overflowing.

Carlos Sr. breathed a sigh of relief before pulling her into a tight hug. After celebrating with her father and her brother Carlos, Amira wasted no time in sharing the news with her mother and sister. The house echoed with even more screams of excitement, and the two Sainz men exchanged knowing glances. It was a moment Amira would cherish forever—a dream come true at last.

____________________________________________________________

Amira’s long-awaited day had finally arrived. Unfortunately, her family couldn’t be there with her; they were in Spain. Her brother and friends were all in Miami. However, Carlos had promised that they would watch her, which eased her mind.

At 5 p.m., she prepared with her team. Ryan, her makeup stylist, was one of the best in the business. Shanaya, her hair stylist and close friend, was always her go-to for events. As expected, they did an amazing job.

Her dress, a stunning blend of white and blue, was a creation by Dior. It reminded her of the waves in Spain on a windy day—comfortable yet elegant, making her look like a Spanish princess.

“Nervous?” she asked her two friends as she examined herself in the mirror. “Amira, you look—” Ryan began, but Shanaya playfully interrupted, “Perfekt!” Ryan added, “Now, vamos! You want to be fashionably late, not annoyingly late.” Their banter made Amira laugh.

Stepping out of the car, the flashbulbs went wild. Amira tried to maintain her poker face, but when Kim Kardashian and Lana Del Rey greeted her so sweetly, she couldn’t help but grin. They all sat at the same table, and that day marked the beginning of new friendships.

Photographers clamored for her attention, capturing her ethereal presence. With a lovely smile, she waved at one of the broadcast cameras, ready to embrace the magic of the Met Gala.

__________________________________________________________

“There she is! Oh, look at her!” exclaimed an excited George. The drivers gathered in Max’s room, surrounded by snacks. They had banned their girlfriends from entering—knowing that chaos would ensue. For the past hour, they’d been scrutinizing every look, but none of them quite matched Amira’s.

“My God,” whispered a starstruck Oscar. Lando sat silently next to Carlos, unable to put his feelings into words. Carlos himself felt tears welling up, his little sister looked stunning. He couldn’t have been prouder.

Charles and Pierre exchanged excited whispers in French. “Regarde ça, calamar,” Pierre said. “Je sais. Elle est vraiment la plus belle fille du monde,” Charles replied. Pierre teased, “Ne laisse pas Alex entendre ça.” Charles chuckled, “Alex serait d’accord avec moi.” Then he added playfully, “Comme si Kika et toi ne pensiez pas la même chose.” The best friends burst into laughter.

Max was on the phone with Kelly, passionately maxplaining Amira’s perfect look. Daniel busily snapped pictures of her. Even Yuki stopped eating, captivated by her presence. The camera stayed focused on Amira throughout. When it was time to film another celebrity, chaos erupted in the room—they all wanted to see their Amira.

The next day, it came as no surprise that all the Formula 1 drivers bought fashion magazines featuring Amira Sainz. She had left an indelible mark on the Met Gala, and her star continued to rise.

___________________________________________________________

Bonus (+) Amira sat at the table, flanked by her newfound friends Kim and Lana. The Met Gala buzzed around them, a whirlwind of glamour and excitement. Suddenly, someone’s hands covered her eyes, and she instinctively turned around. There stood Lewis, a smile playing on his lips.

“Lew-Lew!” she exclaimed, her joy evident. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “Hi, pretty girl,” he whispered into her ear. “I didn’t know you were here.” Lewis’s possessive arm encircled her waist as he settled into the seat next to her.

The star-studded night continued, and Amira found herself surrounded by both old and new friends. And Lewis? He didn't leave her side the whole night.

[cheesus-doodles]

Left Behind in Unsolicited Matrimony

Yandere Kalim

Masterlist | Beyond the Glitter of Gold

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still can't think of a good title :/ been stuck on this fic for so long it's not even funny ;-; not edited cause I'm just happy to get it out finally!! (p.s. i play en server with no spoilers so no spoilers please)

“W-wait,” Kalim stammered out, the tanned boy looking uncharacteristically even as the celebrations around him continued on without missing a beat. Heartbeat hammering away in his ears, garnet red eyes that would fit right in amidst the priceless stones of the Asim family’s collection were wide as they glanced between his parents. “What do you mean?”

”We have to celebrate your engagement, of course,” his father chuckled, gesturing at the full-on festival playing out in front of him, the gold and priceless jewels twinkling like stars down from the ceiling of the grand hall. “How could we not? It is a most joyous occasion.”

His heart skipped countless beats as it set a vicious beat in his chest, though his mind seemed to barely notice, thoughts pounding away against his skull like a jackhammer. The world around him felt like it was swirling along with the dancing guests even as he stood in place, his feet rooted in place as if an old tree from a bygone era. And his face looked the part as well, drained of all blood, every breath feeling more like a fight against heaving up everything he had eaten in the past twelve hours. 

‎

Engagement. An engagement. Of all things to deal with- Mind whirling, the tanned boy would have succumbed to his jelly legs if his mother hadn’t been holding on to him. What should he do now?

”Oh don’t worry about anything dear, we’ll have everything settled,” his mother reassured as she lightly squeezed his hand, no doubt mistaking the growing look of horror on his face for nervousness. “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

That was the furthest thing from his concern, was what he wanted to scream at the thought of his lungs, though Kalim couldn’t exactly voice that sentiment, the ornate gold jewelry that decorated his tanned skin jingling slightly as his arms fell listlessly to his side. What had gone wrong for him to be in this situation? “But why?” The Scarabia housewarden asked shakily. “I thought-” 

“Well, we set it all up for you as a surprise! Your birthday is so soon, we couldn’t help it,” the older lady continued, grinning from ear to ear as she nudged her son playfully, her eyes slightly glassy as she harkened back to those good ol’ days. “And we found the perfect girl for you. You remember her, don’t you Kalim? That girl you tailed around so much when the two of you were kids.”

Yet despite his parents’ hearty laughs as they exchanged memories and stories about the silly, happy child from his past, the glitter and glamor and the cheers that surrounded him, no matter how he tried with his usual brightside glasses, Kalim couldn’t make himself see the upside of this situation he found himself in. Turning it upside down, inside out, all he could see was that should he simply agree, there would be but a single path for him to follow, a path he had no will to see through, and no way out. 

Because there was no future the white-haired boy wanted to be a part of that didn’t include you.

To his right, a nameless servant scrambling forward caught Kalim’s eye, the man respectfully pouring out another glass of wine for the Asim matriarch before disappearing back into the shadows. It wasn’t anything momentous by any stretch of the imagination - in fact, it would have happened dozens of times a day, but that was all it took to drag the thought of you straight to the front of his brain again: the silent labor of the Asim staff would have been another part of his life he wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for you pointing it out. You were everywhere, everything.

And then of course, the question of you. What about you?

‎

Whirling around, eyes that could have been mistaken for shimmering rubies under the candlelight of the chandeliers overhead desperately searched the joyous, dancing crowds for you. And he found you quickly enough in a quiet corner of the hall, one gentle hand wrapped delicately around a glass of some kind, your silhouette hidden partially behind a set of drapes. Yes, there would be where he expected you to be, given you had always preferred the calm and silence as opposed to this chaotic party vibe not too dissimilar to Scarabia’s on a regular day.

This was supposed to have been nothing more than a prime opportunity to show you the wonders and splendors of his homeland, the Land of the Scalding Sands. Sure, you weren’t particularly favorable towards the riches and glamor that were the cornerstone of his life, refusing to accept even a single bangle that he hardly knew existed without being all but begged and whined into giving in; but the white-haired housewarden wanted you to see what laid beyond just the Asim family and their vast wealth. The depth of history of the land and people that grew side by side, the vibrant colors of its culture and heritage; there was so much to be seen and experienced. He fell in love with it, its past, present and future, over and over again, so maybe you would too.

All daydreams of the could-be were however shattered in an instant, when from a slight shift of your figure revealed your companion to be none other than Leona Kingscholar, that braided mane of dark brown hair and lion ears unmistaken. 

Kalim’s gut dropped. Wait. When was he invited? More importantly, why were you talking to him?

‎

All logic pointed to Leona having been invited by the Asim family, being the second prince of the Sunset Savannah and Kalim’s upperclassman. But watching you chattering along with the tanned beastman without missing a beat like old friends, it didn’t feel right for him to just be standing here. And you only confirmed his worst fears when you chuckled at something the Savanaclaw housewarden said, to which the other laughed along, his hair swaying elegantly with his moment with an ease Kalim would never hope to be able to achieve. Was that a blush on your cheeks?! 

The niggling doubt started to emerge, a trickle at first, taunting voices emerging like a hidden spring seeping out of freshly defrosted ground. And then it began to pour out as the floodgates opened, an uncontrollable torrent. You had no interest in Kalim, they whispered, no matter what he did. You would never be interested in him, not while he still had so many competitors for your eye. 

Jealousy that Kalim never knew he possessed snared his heart, ugly, ugly feelings that he never wanted to acknowledge he even had in him making themselves known.

All he could see was you and Leona, the rest of the world blurred into a background blob, the ringing in his ears only growing louder with every passing second as your infuriating conversation continued blissfully unaware of his stares.

If only. If only Leona wasn’t there. There was nothing more that Kalim wanted in the moment but to hurt the Sunset Savannah prince, wanted to get rid of him, to make sure he leaves and never be able to speak with you again; the feeling churned deep in his chest, a rage ignited that he couldn’t seem to control, his fists both balled up tight to his side. He could make it happen, couldn’t he? The voices taunted, the light breeze as if they were brushing up against his ear. Even if he wasn’t royalty and Leona was, Kalim could wield the might of his family and make it happen.

‎

You seemed to have felt his stare on you, the Scarabia housewarden subtly noted, as you shifted, looking around for the gaze on you.

It took but a blink as your eyes met his for Kalim to shake back to reality, watching your face visibly brighten as you started to make your way towards him, threading your way through the crowd as you eagerly waved in his direction. His world instantly lightened along with your expression, his once-heavy heart even starting to flutter slightly, though that warm feeling didn’t last long, his parents still musing the good ol’ times to the side catching the corner of his eyes.

Actually, come to think of it, this really was one of those times he rather you weren’t here.

It was too late for that now, and the grin he forced himself to wear felt unusually uncomfortable.

”Here you are, Kalim! We’ve been looking all over for you,” your footsteps stuttered to a pause, and you leaned in slightly, the concern washing over your expression. “You look pale! Are you alright?”

“Oh! You must be the classmates we’ve heard so much about!” The Asim matriarch stepped forward, grabbing your hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake. “Welcome to the Scalding Sands! Kalim’s just a bit too nervous right now since we’ll be announcing his engagement."

But you didn’t seem to notice the horror once more setting in on the young Asim’s face as that wretched word fell out of his mother’s mouth again, your hand instead flying up to cover your mouth in surprise. “Oh! Congratulations Kalim!” His gaze instantly snapped to you. No. It wasn’t true. You weren’t supposed to know that. He didn’t want to be engaged. 

What the white-haired boy wanted was to deny, deny, deny everything and anything to you, but his mouth was dry and his voice didn’t seem to want to work. And so all he could do was watch.

“Yes, thank you,” his father graciously accepted, shaking your hand once his mother finally let go. “We’re so very excited.”

“I’m sure you have a lot to discuss, so I will take my leave,” you politely nodded, excusing yourself from the situation. 

Leona wasn’t far behind, that infuriating smirk decorating his face as he too said his congratulations before sauntering off after you, and Kalim’s garnet eyes trailing your pair up till the two of you disappeared from the hall to parts unknown.

‎

He was the one that had asked to bring friends over, and had been caught with his metaphorical pants down. How was he supposed to get out of this situation now? Chasing after you was what his heart was screaming at him, and dealing with Leona his mind, yet he simply stood, rooted to the spot, usual impulsive nature nowhere to be found.

“-so, would you like to meet her?”

Kalim turned almost robotically at the question, his gaze blank, unfocused. “What?”

“Your finance,” his father clarified rather unhelpfully, the older man tiptoeing slightly to look around the vast hall. “I’m sure she’s somewhere here, I can call her over-”

“M-maybe later,” Kalim interjected hastily, though as much as he wanted to chase after you immediately, that would have to wait. “How bout, how bout I-” Scanning the hall instead and leaving his sentence uncompleted, Jamil was easy enough to pick out amidst the sea of guests dressed to the nines, his simple outfit and golden hair ornaments making enough of a contrast to highlight the needle in the haystack. And no doubt his trusted friend and vice-housewarden had seen what had gone down, judging from those furrowed eyebrows and concerned stare. 

A quick nod from the other and Jamil was off, quick footsteps carrying the black-haired boy down the same path you had taken just minutes earlier.

With that situation now under careful watch, Kalim turned back to his parents, laughing nervously. “How bout I go and check on the guests first?

He needed to get to you.

Fast.

[gtgbabie0]

Cowboy!Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: {You’re the preachers daughter but God be damned he just can’t keep away even if it’s to see you for just a small moment}

Cowboy Remus, you have saved lives. Enjoy lovelies 💕

The sunset casts over the horizon, painting the clouds in the prettiest colours, a pinky-orangey mixture swirling throughout the sky. It makes for a beautiful sight as Remus makes his way through the plains on his brown Spanish Mustang, a loyal horse that’s been with him through thick and thin.

He knows where he’ll end up, back at your father’s small ranch house despite the tiny part of his mind that screams at him to turn around. Your father would shoot him, he reckons, he might be a man of faith but you’re his little girl.

With a soft groan, he runs his hand through his horse's mane as he trots across the trodden grass. He continues on the path to your ranch, excitement bubbling up inside him as your house comes into his line of sight.

Remus knows that you’ll be alone, this isn’t the first time he’s been here, sneaking around like some damn outlaw. He knows your father is off in town doing his daily sermons that last for hours. He can’t help but smirk at the idea of getting a moment alone with you… his sweetheart. Even if it’s fleeting.

He’s tying his horse to the hitching post just by the white fencing of your house when you come rushing over to him with a joyous expression. That sweet smile of yours is enough to make anyone fall to their knees. Remus nods to you, taking off his hat as he holds it to his chest.

“Thought you’d forgotten about me.” You say, giggling softly. You lean over the fencing as he walks over to you, hooking his hat on the white wood.

He shakes his head, and his calloused palm grazes your cheek as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “How could I forget ‘bout you?” He asks with a grin, admiring the soft cotton dress you’re wearing and the way the fabric ripples through the wind.

It was true, there wasn’t a world where Remus could ever forget about you, your soft skin and pretty eyes are practically engraved into his mind and heart. That’s why he’s here, standing in front of you despite his better judgment and the fact he knows that your father, deep down, would never approve of him dating you.

The smell of the outdoors and firewood lingers on his sun-kissed skin. You’re hit with it as he leans down slightly to press a soft kiss against your cheek.

“Have you eaten yet?… and I mean a good meal.” Your question makes his heart swell with love and he can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, I’ve eaten sweetheart.” He promises, pressing his thumb against your chin, he tilts your head upwards to look at him as he steps closer to you with his other hand resting against your hip.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his waist before slipping your hands into his back pockets. A habit you’ve picked up on from him. He smirks down at you.

“Are you coming in?” God, the way his mind spins with that question and how badly he wants to say ‘yes’ and stay with you.

“Can’t stay for long, baby. James and Sirius are expecting me down at the Saloon.” He tells you, soothing his thumb along your jaw as you pout up at him with a look of disappointment in your eyes.

“Oh, come on now.” He chuckles, pressing a sweet kiss to your pouty lips. “Don’t give me that face, pretty thing. you know why I can’t stay.”

Remus presses another kiss to your lips as your expression softens. “He’s gonna find out one day.” You’ve got a point, one day Remus will have to bite the bullet and fish out a neat suit to meet your strict father.

“Hmm… not if I steal ya away first.” He teases, enjoying the way you roll your eyes slightly with a huff. He tugs you closer to him by your hips. “Promise, one day I’ll let ya introduce me to him.” He says, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he takes in the scent of your flowery perfume.

You decide to trust him, after all, he’s never once lied to you before. Remus just isn’t the type, he’s a man that values trust and he’d never take yours for granted.

“Why’d you come all the way out here then?” Your question makes him lift his head up from your shoulder, his eyebrow-raising with a playful look.

“Just wanted to see your pretty face.” He states simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. “I don’t need an excuse to come and see ya do I?”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “No… I’m glad you came, I’ve missed you.” There it goes again, your words make his chest bloom with a warmth that leaves a sickly sweet taste in his mouth.

“Missed you too baby.” He whispers, his fingers fiddling with the dainty golden cross that sits against your collarbones. He knows your father will be back soon, he should get going but at the same time, he can’t seem to pull himself away.

Remus takes your hands in his own, glancing over to his horse before looking back down to you. “You wanna go riding with me tomorrow?” He asks, hope gleaming in his honeyed eyes.

The excitement in your expression is truly a sight he’ll never get bored of. “Of course, I’ll wait for you after breakfast.” You tell him and he hums in agreement, picking his hat up and fixing it on his head.

“Better get some sleep then, I’ll be here early.” He smiles, caressing your warm cheek with his thumb. He tilts his hat up slightly so he can lean down and press a loving kiss to your lips that tapers off into small pecks.

“I will love you, cowpoke.” You whisper against his lips, shying away from him ever so slightly as he trails his lips along your jaw to your cheek, he grins against your soft skin.

“Love you too.” He whispers, fixing his hat once more.

He kisses your forehead before walking over to his horse, unhitching him from the post before saddling up. With a wave he clicks his tongue and his horse is off, carrying him away from the ranch, leaving only a promise of returning tomorrow.

-Art by @/sophithil on twt

[websterss]

COMMON COLDS — GUILDFORD DUDLEY

REQUEST: Can I request one for Guildford Dudley x fem reader, in which they have been friends and courting for a really long time and she faints or get sicks and Guildford is really worried about her and stuff. @arianagrandes-things

WARNING(S): angsty, some fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,466

PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x Ethian!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! Gracie Abrams "I love you, I'm sorry" song has me sat and on a writing spree LMFAO

MASTERLIST

Guildford could not help the way his heart fluttered upon the mere sound of your joyous laughter. He felt boyishly in love with you watching you take off into a sprint through the field of flowers. Your carefree nature and optimism made him love you more and more each day.

He had let you get as far as you could before he’d begin running after you to catch you in his arms. Though you hadn’t made it very far before you stumbled to a stop.

“I don’t believe you understand our little game. Would you care for a refresher?” His smile faded as he slowly approached you. “Y/n…Are you alright-“ He barely got out before he hurried to you, preventing your head from colliding with the ground. “Y/n! Bertie!” He shouted for the servant. “Somebody help!” It was way into the evening that he realized he was practically screaming into the void. He grew startled when you morphed into your Ethian form. A golden beauty with fur, you now lay as a golden retriever in his arms. He didn’t waste a moment to bring you back to the house. He held you close, in hopes to not jostle you around too much.

He entered the manor, shouting at the top of his lungs for help. “Somebody help! Somebody! Please help!” Before he could catch the attention of any staff, he was interrupted. “What in God’s name has got you in a tizzy, Master Guildford? Oh, dear heavens?” Bertie gasps as she catches sight of your Ethian form.

A few feet from the stairs you had turned again. Your delicately soft features graced him again. “Y/n, can you hear me?” He tapped your face lightly. He was met once again with silence, and then once again you had taken your animal form. He huffed in disbelief, as he hurried to get you to your shared bedroom. "I need you to send word for Miss Lady Jane Gray. Her presence is needed here, right away!"

The journey to the bedroom seemed to have taken an eternity, though it had really been only a few minutes. You had shifted back and forth between your human form and animal form five times more before you were finally settled into the bed. Once Guildford managed to get you into the room, he closed the door behind him and gently set you on the bed. He sat on the edge of it, staring in disbelief as your snout and floppy ears lolled to the side. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, waiting for you to shift back.

“Fuck! Why aren’t you changing back?!” He barked. Without thinking, he began to pet you. His hands ran through your soft fur as he ran the pad of his thumb over your velvety black nose. “Please…” He murmured as he continued to run his hand over your body. To his slight relief, he felt you starting to shiver. The shaking in your limbs started from your paws and then up through your body. In seconds, you had changed back into your human form. You were a sweating mess and you trembled uncontrollably as you lay on top of the duvet.

Guildford’s breath hitched at the sight of you in your weakened, fragile state. “Y/n, can you hear me?” He reached out again to gently touch your shoulder. He received no reply. Your body rippled once more and you were nothing more but a dog before him. "Jane will be here soon enough. You'll be as good as new and begging me to take you on a walk in the evening again." He mustered a faint laugh before he felt his chest cave in. Soft tears trickled and spilled down his face. "I'm sure of it."

-

Jane's travels to their home had been about half a day's worth. Rupert had ensured her safe passage.

The sun had risen and set by the time Guildford had greeted Jane at your room. He didn't hesitate to make his way up to the second landing after the day reached its evening call. His paces determined to see if your state had improved throughout the afternoon.

When he reached the bedroom door, he paused for a moment in the doorway. His eyes fell on you lying motionless as the same, golden retriever. Before he could take a step into the room, he heard a soft voice say behind him, “Guildford?”

Guildford jumped and twisted around to face the soft, familiar voice. “Jane…I didn’t hear you come in.” He gave her a meek smile before he turned his attention to you. "T-Thank you for coming…Y/n, she's been-" He trailed off.

“How long has she been like this?” Jane looks at you, watching your figuration switch back and forth between your human self and dog-like self. She counted a ten-second interval. It was how long before your transformation began and ended within each shift.

“It's been an evening and a day. It has been an endless cycle of transforming from her Ethian form and herself. It's almost as...she can't control it. I'm more afraid of her stopping in her dog form and not being able to transform back...Can you help her?"

Guildford watched as Jane studied you. Her eyes darted along the length of your body, now turned fur, then your face, now turned snout, then down to your feet, now turned into paws, her eyes darting amongst you. She finally let out a huff and returned her gaze to Guildford. "Fever, trembling of the body, uncontrollable transformation…Does Y/n get ill often?"

"Never. Y/n has always had the constitution of a horse, no jesting intended. She's hardly ever been unwell. She has never been this poorly…" Guildford's face paled as realization hit him. He looks up at Jane, wary. "What of her systems? Do you believe her to be severely ill? The affliction?"

Jane gave a thoughtful look as she mulled the possibility over, then shook her head. "In short, no. Some Ethians are hardy and hard-to-off people." Her face gave a small, reassuring smile, "A fever of this magnitude, for one, cannot kill you, but this much I'm certain…Your beautiful healthy fiancé has nothing more than a mere cold…" Jane's smile widened as she shook her head.

Her comment had brought on a moment of levity, and Guildford chuckled in return. Guildford’s eyes widened in disbelief. Did he hear that correctly?

"A cold? You surely jest. All of this worry for such a common ailment?" Guildford exhaled a quiet huff of air that he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. He looked back at you, relief sprouting like roots within him. "A cold? A common cold can do this to her. Here I was afraid I was losing my wife to whatever disease plagues the country only for you to examine her and diagnose her state as a cold." A small, nervous laugh escaped him.

"Indeed." Jane chuckled to herself as she observed the look of relief and disbelief from Guildford. "Y/n is fine. I'm certain she'll wake up in a few days. The illness will pass," She tried to reassure him as she continued to watch your body change back into your canine form. "However, you, on the other hand, look like you've hardly slept a wink."

Those words struck a nerve. His lack of restful sleep through the day was a sore spot for him to say the least. Guildford ran a hand through his hair and huffed, "I'm exhausted, to say the least. I couldn't…I didn't want to leave her alone, but dawn neared, and I…She fainted in the meadow Jane. She fell in my arms, and wouldn't wake. The relief of knowing that I won't lose her, that she only has to bear a cold is solacing." Guildford glanced at you to ensure you hadn't changed before he continued. "I'll be sure to rest once you've given me proper instructions on what to do." Guildford turned his focus back to her, waiting for her instruction.

"Keep her warm, ensure that she's hydrated, and give her plenty of rest. Keep a cold wet cloth on her forehead to help with the fever. Ask Bertie to make her a broth, to add mint. I think I may have some herbs that will help with a cough though she doesn't appear to have one at the moment, but if she does then give her these. One contains Sage and the other Mullein, best if taken as a tea. Her transformations are within 10-second intervals, if I'm certain, they'll slow down. For now, she'll transform multiple times in a day from what I've observed, but I would keep an eye on her." Jane smiled at him softly, "Send for me if something else occurs. I'll be here as soon as I can." She places her hand on his shoulder.

Guildford could tell Jane's reassurances were well-intended, but he felt himself wanting more. He didn't know if he was being over-worried or not. "You're absolutely sure that there's nothing else? She'll be absolutely fine?" He gave her a look that begged for further assurance.

"She's strong and healthy as a horse. I'm certain she will pull through this."

Guildford chuckled at her words, hoping that his worries would be unfounded. "You're quite right about that." He turned to look at you in your canine form again. "Thank you, Jane." He mumbled quietly.

"I'd do anything for you and Y/n. You know of this as I know that she is your reason to live. She's my best friend, but she's your world. I'd hate for her to be taken from you...from me."

Guildford was touched by her words and felt himself almost break down again. He'd been in pieces for the past few hours. Jane was right; you were his world. Everything about you was the very air that he breathed. He'd fall apart if you were dead, or worse, taken.

He looked over to Jane not denying her truth, giving her a shaky nod and faint smile. She tilted her head before rushing over and letting him lean into her embrace as he sat in the chair. It wasn't long before his body shook with uncontrollable tears.

She hadn't meant to cut off his needed crying, but she was brought back to what he said early. "Wait, you said wife."

"What?" He wiped at his eyes, bewildered as she shoved at his shoulders.

"You said, wife!"

"Yes, I said wife. Because she is my wife," Guildford sputtered out. He was still very upset and slightly confused by her interrogation of his wording.

"You married without me there to bear witness, you bastards!" She gasped at him. "When did this occur?"

Guildford felt his heart begin to beat with anxiety because of Jane's tone, and her question alone. He came to a small realization.

You didn't tell her shit.

"Oh fuck, she never told you? I-It was a simple, private affair! Small ceremony. She did not want to wait."

"Could have waited for me!"

"She didn't want to! We-I...We just couldn't be apart from one another a second longer than we had to!" The panic in him was slowly dwindling into annoyance. "Y/n was impatient, she wanted out of her mother's house as soon as the chance allowed for it. You know how infuriating that woman is, gods I would want out of that house too-" He began pacing. "-And I could not bear another moment not being her husband. So we got married, we are married!" His voice began to grow louder as his face flushed. "She is my wife, I am her husband. Husband." He held up his left hand to display his ring. Then he went to grab your wrist lifting it in the air for Jane to see your beautiful golden band. In the midst, your hand transformed into a paw. "Wife- Oh!" He placed your arm down gently. "We did not think about the ramifications! We only thought of each other! So forgive me Lady Jane if you were not in attendance to bear witness to our unity as man and wife!" Guildford exhaled, taking a few moments to calm himself. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Was she beautiful?" She pouted. "Tell me everything. I want to know. Was her dress perfect?"

Guildford paused his pacing as a smile broke out over his face.

"Oh, gods. Beautiful hardly describes the way she looked. It was as though…the angels of heaven descended from their clouds and wrapped her in the finest silks and satins, and jewels. She was immaculate." Guildford looked over at you as you transformed back to yourself. The memory of you in your wedding dress flashed before his eyes and a wide smile spread across his face. The image of you walking down the aisle was still his most prized memory. He'd always said that you glowed like the sun itself, the only sun he could love. "Gods, she was breathtaking. I bedded her the moment we arr-"

"Ah, no! She doesn't tell me everything for good reason!" Jane shivered, covering her ears. "Shameless!" She shook her head at him.

Guildford chuckled at her disgust. "It was our wedding night," He held up his hands in defense. "What is a man to do after marrying the love of his life?" His cheeks flushed as he remembered the memorable evening. He looked up to find Jane feigning a gag. "Oh, don't be so prudish! She's my wife! It would have been a sin to not have bedded her!" He gave her a look of mock offense, but he was amused by her. "And besides, you didn't have to know." A wicked little smile pulled at his mouth. "Now you will never be able to un-know. You can never un-know that I bedded my wife on our wedding night." He said the words in a sing-song voice that drove Jane up a wall.

"You're insufferable, Guildford Dudley!" She huffed at him, throwing up her delicate arms.

"And yet...you adore me for it all the same," He said, flashing her a signature Dudley smirk. "You're acting as though I broke some code of womanly etiquette. You asked for the details and I gave you the answers! No, I gave you the truth! A wife should be loved and ravished by her husband…frontward and backward." He tried to make a serious face but his growing smile betrayed him. He flinched away from Jane's bewildered look, her hands shooting out to smack him silly.

"Animal!" She gasped.

"I am...I was." He smirked at her. "With her. You may leave now, thank you for your help." He sighed pushing her out of the bedroom. Winking at her a farewell before shutting the doors in her face. "Goodnight."

"Bastard!"

[asahisbunny]

—𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

╰┈➤ just put the fries in the bag..

♫ .. “🍀 asahi azumane x fem! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; After two years MIA, you come back to the Miyagi prefect, ready to resume your studies at Karasuno High. While some people are rather joyous about your homecoming, some are....cautious

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠!; swearing, slight teasing..thas it!

media; mixed | wc; 0.8k

m.list | previous | next ep.| back to home page!!

After settling in the day before, the house looked like hell, moving boxes littered in almost every corner, and the ones that didn't have them had takeout boxes in them.

You walked your way to the full mirror in your room, looking briefly at your old uniform— it's been way too long.

The vest shrank a bit at the dryers, so it was almost impossible to button up, so it was left that way. No harm, no foul.

Your mother, on the other hand, had to cut down the horrible hemming you did to the skirt in your first year, trying to look more tough by showing more skin. Wannabe gangster era was something for sure

You couldn't find the red bow for the life of you, I mean, you looked everywhere. From your old backpack to your old pencil case. Growing so frustrated over the piece of fabric, you could almost cry.. until you remember.

The day before your last day of school, you had set it on fire by accident, the reason why was beyond you. A part of you didn't even want to remember.

After grabbing the nearest protein bar and bolting out of your front door, you grabbed your bike and rode at such a pace that they would have to come up with a word to replace ‘horsepower’.

Nearing the school, you saw two boys with uniforms that matched the Karasuno colors.

Volleyball uniforms.

They were throwing the ball as they walked. Pretty big safety hazard, to be honest, but they were having fun.

once your bicycle was parked in front of the school, you noticed how the school had changed, not by much, yet it was still noticeable. The entrance had changed color, and the old man that used to whistle once hus watch stroke 8:00 was replaced by a much younger guy.

The green area had gotten smaller thanks to the expansion of the gym.

You could hear the faint whistling coming from the building and the squeaking of sports shoes running around the annoying floors. Before you knew it, your feet had driven yourself to the very entrance of the gym.

Once you noticed, you tried to go back, yet once you saw that speck of white hair poking its way out of the storage room, you sprinted there

“KOCHI” you let out a squeal-like yell at the top of your lungs, jumping the poor third year, making him yell.

“THE FU- IT’S YOU!” his face of terror was quickly transformed into one of glee

To say he missed you was an understatement. You had known him since diapers, and both your families were so close both houses almost moved next to the other.

“It wasn't a hallucination. I'm so glad” He spoke, almost in disbelief

“Oh please, you couldn't have missed me that much” you eyes roll back sarcastically, not noticing the faint expression of worry that flashes on his face

“I'm finding all the strength in me not to scream at you right now”

“Blehh” is all you respond, pulling at the skin under your eye.

“You want to see the others?” he asked, pointing back at the court, where many underclassmen were coming in, where you saw the two that were playing on the way here. You were about to oblige when suddenly you see Daichi and Asahi walk in next to a blonde guy with glasses.

Talking with them over text was one thing, face to face was another.

“Nah, I'll come by later, gotta go get my schedule. Catch you guys late though”

Before he can say anything, you are already running out of the gym

As you ran back from the gym, your mind went back to that fateful day, not just any flashing moment No.

One that To this day, it haunts you the most. The person who had always held such pride in calling you his friend, the one who always shouted how proud he was from the stands. Was staring down at you, disappointment nearing disgust.

You felt your stomach churn at the resurfaced memory that you didn't even notice the person walking in front of you. Basically, pushing the poor boy down, you felt like a piece of shit

“I'm so sorry, I didn't see you” you apologize almost immediately

“You got nothin’ to worry abou- HOLYY” You could've sworn his pupils had turned into hearts

“You must be new because I would remember a face like yours” he spoke in awe

he was cute, yet short. Even with the spiky hair helping him, although you did have a thing for dyed Hair… Decisions Decisions

“Don't get any ideas, Lover Boy, but thanks”

He deflated in real time, and you could only suppress a cackle

“If you change your mind you can always find me at practice” He offered with a big smile, that you almost found alluring.

Yet luscious hair called out to you.

a/n: i didn't expect this to get so much attention in two days, im so happy people are enjoying it. Just a small thingy, my English is not the best, but I'm trying to fix as many grammatical errors as I go. As always, any feedback helps a TON and is very appreciated. If anyone would like me to start a taglist, just let me know!♡

#๋ ࣭ ⭑🪷

©𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍...𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐅𝐒

[im-so-tired-sorry]

look! it’s you!

kiribaku x gn!reader

synopsis: you + bakusquad at the carnival! yippie!

————————————————————————

you and the bakusquad were at the local carnival that had just opened for the summer. you all decided going opening day was best for having the ultimate experience of the foods, games, and rides.

earlier that day you had gone on the swing ride with kirishima; and while kaminari, sero, and mina were on some of the bigger rollercoasters, you and kiri dragged bakugo to try some classic fair food. collectively, the whole group went on the spinning cups ride. yk, the one where you have to spin the cup yourselves while the cups are also spinning around the mechanisms of the ride. you thought that bakugo didn’t care enough to participate since he was dragged by the group, but to your surprise, he decided to fully commit. he dedicated full force into making sure your cup spun at its fastest speed, to the point where it almost broke. while you, bakugo, kirishima and kaminari spun the wheel at the center, mina would be laughing and making sure her stuff didn’t fly away while sero would be vlogging catching everyone’s energetic and joyous faces.

after rides, you all landed in the alley full of game booths, so the boys tried to win the giant prizes. sero and kaminari were mainly doing it for fun (and kind of losing terribly), kirishima was trying to win you the stuffed shark you were eyeing every time you passed it, and bakugo only played a few games to prove that no “rigged game” was going to work on him. in the end, you were given the stuffed shark and mina a big stuffed kirby.

“it’s so you.” you say to kirishima as you cling onto the stuffed shark he had just won you.

“oh my god it’s me!” he responds with a giggle.

“yeah it’s dumb.” bakugo adds on as he pops some kettle corn into his mouth.

“hey, don’t be mean! plus, you’re just mad cause you couldn’t win me the stuffed cow-“

“who said i was trying to win it for you??!?”

you laugh as you and your boyfriends walk slightly ahead of your other three friends. night was falling and neon lights were starting shine your way through the various alleys of food stalls and rides.

eijirou nudged on your arm and pointed at the koala painted on the side of a ride that was meant for smaller children. it was in a cartoonish style, with a big smile. “look, it’s you! cause you always give the best hugs!”

“and cause you’re clingy as hell.” you slightly shove katsuki as you laugh at eijirous compliment.

“shove me again and see what happens brat!” with katsuki’s invitation to a challenge, you pass your stuffed shark to eijirou and use both hands to shove katsuki to the side, making sure you don’t push him towards some random stranger that happens to be walking by. scoffing at your boldness and audacity, katsuki grabs you and effortlessly throws you over his shoulder.

“katsuki!!! put me down!!” you lightly kick your legs as he continues walking, your other boyfriend laughing at the sight. “no way brat. you’re paying the consequences of your actions. you wanted to test me, so your being picked up and carried.”

“katsuki be careful-“

“look! it’s you!” you point to a dragon plush that’s hanging in one of the game booths. it has an angry expression but it doesn’t make it any less cute. you hear eijirou try to stifle a laugh.

“that’s it.”

katsuki starts spinning around, which didn’t help you since you were already kind of upside down. you start scream/laughing as katsuki laughs at your panic and eijirou tells him to be careful.

“katsuki!! stop spinning!!!! you’re making me dizzy!! i will vomit on you if i have to!!”

after a solid thirty seconds of spinning, he stops and katsuki asks, “you gonna stop being annoying or should i keep you over my shoulder?” you beg bakugo to put you down, and it didn’t take him a lot of convincing.

you continue walking around the fair comparing each other to the variety of characters that you saw, and at one point your other friends joined too.

“look man that’s you!” eijirou would say to kaminari about a pikachu plush. “it’s me!”

“that’s definitely bakugo.” sero alludes to the small dog barking at everyone passing by.

“look it’s you.” you point out a pink butterfly that happened to float by to mina. “ugh, i’m so pretty.”

you continue walking for a bit next to bakugo while everyone else is ahead. it’s fully night now and the energy has shifted from an energetic ambience to one of a casual vibe.

“look it’s you.” bakugo points at the balloon stand selling clear balloons that have light up butterflies inside of them. a boy and a girl reach up as the vendor hands them a balloon. the children, all giddy of their new shiny thing, run back to their mom.

“why is that me?” you’re curious as to why katsuki would make that kind of connection.

“cause.”

“cause what?”

“just cause! that’s…that’s how you make me feel… the whole butterflies in your stomach thing. you and eijirou make me feel like that… sometimes… i guess.”

flustered on how romantic katsuki is being, you decide teasing him would only make him take it back, so you give him a kiss on the cheek instead. you notice the apples of his cheeks turning more pink, but you know pointing it out will only make him deny it.

“guys look!” eijirou runs over to you two with something in his arms. once he’s closer, you see he has three small teddy bears; one red, one black, and one orange.

“what about them?”

“i saw they were selling them and i knew i had to get them! look, it’s us!”

you gush at your boyfriend’s considerate heart and take your respective teddy bear. bakugo takes his bear and calls it a “waste of money” before putting it along the other prizes you three had one earlier that day. you know he secretly admires the thought, but you think to tease him about it later.

“come on lovebirds! the fair is about to close!”

“yeah hurry up or we’re leaving without you!”

you grab your partners hands and enjoy your last bit of the stroll through the fair, with the lingering smell of popcorn and neon lights replacing the stars.

————————————————————————

a/n: ah! had this idea for a bit so i hope you enjoyed!! endings are not my strong suit so pls forgive 🙏 also, i kind of wrote it in the beginning, but i don’t think it would be that out of character to have bakugo to commit to the spinning cups ride instead of just sitting their, crossed armed and not participating. but that’s just me!

anyway, pls leave suggestions as to what i should write next! i love one shot plots so any ideas help :) goodnight!

[mongoosingisme]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and you've literally got my favourite writing on the app right now, so I figured I'd drop in an idea that I was planning on writing myself but never got around to.

The idea is that you (not yet the farmer) are dragged to a bar in Zuzu city with yours friends, and are stuck at the bar by yourself when a handsome man sits down across, looking equally dour. You decide to speak with him, and find out his name is Elliott, and he'd come into the city for a book signing that nobody showed to.

You two spend the night together, talking over drinks about books and music, finding much more in common than one would expect at a place like this. The chemistry is palpable, but when you offhandedly express that you would've shown up to the signing, his imagination runs wild with possible scenarios, fueled by drink sand the attraction he feels towards you.

Perhaps you two rendezvous at his hotel under the roleplay of an eager fan and a very lucky author? God I love Elliott so much and your writing, go wild if you like the idea lol

Oh my loooooooooooooord

Okay, first of all, how DARE you be so GENEROUS with such an amazing idea!? I could not get this out of my head ALL DAY. I was going to do my TAXES today and instead I wrote this.

(seriously though thank you so so so much for sharing this phenomenal ask)

Title: Your #1 Fan

Pairing: Elliot x fem!reader

Word Count: 4227

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only, if you would be so kind

Tags and story below the cut!

Tags: kissing, cunnilingus, blow jobs, swallowing

If you were to rank your preferred strategies for getting over a breakup, getting coerced by your friends into a night on the town would be at the bottom.

Yet there you were, alone at the bar while your friends played pool. You’d say you were broken hearted, but that may be laying it on a little thick. You were absolutely feeling rejected, though, and more than a little dejected by the ending of a situation that lingered far longer than it had any right to.

Lingered like this night out. You’d acquiesced at your friends’ insistence. They’d meant well, had truly hoped to get your mind off things, but all you were feeling up for was nursing your second drink and ruminating about your many failures. 

Apparently it was a night for sad sacks, because the man perched a couple seats down from you looked positively morose. Long auburn hair lying limply over his shoulder, forehead resting on one long-fingered hand, dark circles under amber eyes… something about him screamed “I just lost my love to consumption and I intend to write a sonnet about it.”

Creative type, is what you were saying.

Your… situation had been in finance. Maybe it was time to switch it up to someone who looked like they could carry a conversation about something other than crypto-currency or podcasts.

Better than staring at your drink, at least.

“You look about as joyous as I feel.” You raised your glass to him in a mock toast.

“They do say misery loves company.” The man shifted on a hip, tipped his chin up in a question. You nodded, and he shifted over to sit next to you. “What flavor is your despondency tonight?”

“Male,” you replied with a grimace.

“Unfortunate,” the man replied. “Please accept an apology on behalf of my sex.”

“Accepted,” you said, then drained your drink. The man did the same, and gestured to the bartender. “What about you?” you asked, leaning on your hand to face him. “What’s the theme of your pity party? Female? Male?” 

The man laughed low. “If only it were the same kind of heartbreak. So inspiring. But alas, it’s disappointment of a different variety. My first book signing was tonight, but it seems bringing a pen was presumptuous.”

“Ooof, no takers?” You nodded to the barkeeper as they handed you another drink.

“Not a one.” The man accepted a new glass of wine, took a long swallow, his neck arching back elegantly. 

“You win.” 

His mouth twisted in a pained smile. “A dubious honor, but one I can’t accept without knowing your full story.”

“You do NOT want to hear me bitch about a man,” you said. “I don’t even want to hear me bitch about a man.”

“No? Isn’t there some catharsis in it? Spilling the relationship out in front of you and sorting through the pieces? When it’s over you can finally tell what it all means.”

“It never was,” you said flatly. “I was chasing something that wasn’t there.” You took another long drink for emphasis. The alcohol was starting to make you feel pleasantly fuzzy.

”I can relate.” He drank as well, then folded his arms on the bar and rested his head in them.

Aw. Poor fella. 

His hair spilled down over his face, and you had to fight the urge to brush it away. He just looked so sad. It energized you, in a strange way. Why waste your time moaning over someone who was never there in the first place when there was someone right there in front of you now?

“Okay,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Decision time. Are we going to sad drink together, or are we gonna buck up and try to have a good night?”

The man peered at you from behind your hair. “What did you have in mind?”

You shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Just… do we want to talk about how much life sucks, or do we want to talk about things we, like, enjoy?”

The man was nodding, sitting up. “Yes,” he said. “Wise, to make a decision while the night is young. Let’s cast our eyes on pleasant things and shrug off the weight of disappointments past.” There was a new light in his eye, and with great drama he drained his second glass of wine.

This guy was kinda weird.

You were digging it though.

And he absolutely could carry on a conversation, especially once he got going.

Talking with Mr. Finance always felt like pulling teeth. But not this guy. Once you’d gotten past the basics (his name was Elliott, he wrote fiction, he lived in Stardew Valley, he was single) the conversation flowed. You meandered through topics: reading (the two of you had similar tastes in books, though he certainly seemed more dedicated to the hobby than you were), music (your tastes differed, but you’d never felt more interested in classical piano than you did at that moment), nature and conservation (you both agreed it was a good thing and there should be more of it), and, eventually, sex.

You were in agreement there too, and for the same reasons: it was a good thing, and there should be more of it.

The fact that you were both on drink number four probably had a lot to do with that one.

“I mean, I’m not hideous, right?” You gestured down at yourself, sloshing your drink a little. It was just the two of you at the bar now. Your friends left a little while ago, after making you promise to check in later. You shooed them away with a yes.

You were exactly where you wanted to be.

And you were totally fishing for a compliment, but far too drunk to feel embarrassed about it.

“Not at all.” Elliott seemed thrilled to be catching your line. “You are exquisite. Your eyes have a light to them that is so rare to see, and your body makes me wish I had a pen with me, so I could write down what I see and remember it forever.”

“Right!?” You were feeling loose and a little loopy. You leaned heavily on your hand. “I’m a catch, right? I shouldn’t have to be begging for attention.”

Elliott matched your energy, mirrored your posture. His face was inches from yours. “You should never have to ask. All eyes should be on you the moment you walk into a room. You are magnetic. You are impossible to ignore.”

“Thank you,” you said. “You’re exactly right. And you too. There should be lines out the door for your signings. People should be begging you for a signature. On their hands and knees.”

“You speak boldly for someone who hasn’t read my work.” Despite the challenge in his words, Elliott was smiling, and his eyes dipped to your mouth for a second when you started to speak.

“I can tell just by talking with you that you’re an amazing writer. Your publisher’s the fucking issue. They’re mishandling you. I live right by that bookstore and I had no clue there was a signing today. You need a new fucking agent.” You tapped the bar in emphasis on each of the last three words. 

“I need a better book.” The misery in his voice was back, and he collapsed back into a heap in his arms.

“No!” The alcohol made you passionate. “No! Your book is perfect. It’s the fucking… the everything else… the…” Words were escaping you. “I would kill for a signed copy. When you’re all famous and on TV and stuff I can be like ‘I know that guy! I was his biggest fan back when he was getting started!’”

“My biggest fan, you say?” He looked up at you from his arms. 

“Yes.” You were emphatic. “I am now your number one fan. You are my favorite author. I am obsessed with everything you create. In a few years you’ll be publishing a book about how weirdly into you I am.”

“Every author’s dream.” He was smiling, sitting back up, and you were proud of yourself.

“How do I get one of your books? Is the bookstore still open?” You fumbled for your phone, but Elliott was shaking his head.

“Too late for that, I’m afraid, but I have some copies at my hotel….”

You’d had a few drinks, but you weren’t so far gone that you couldn’t read the implications in his words, the look on his face.

“Going back to my favorite author’s hotel room!?” You waved your hand in front of your face in mock excitement. “A dream come true! Promise you’ll sign a copy for me?”

“As many times as you like.” His eyes were alight, slight lines around his mouth warming his face, and you were overcome with an urge to run your hands through his hair, draw him to you, breathe in deep.

The man was fucking pretty, is what you were saying.

And you were feeling pretty too, with the way he was looking at you.

And it was easy to settle up, make your way out of the bar together, head off down the street. Wise? Maybe not, but you were feeling good, feeling safe.

Elliott had named a hotel that wasn’t far, so there was no reason not to walk, both of you stumbling just a bit in your tipsiness, though perhaps that was just an excuse to bump into each other. You eventually ended up with your arms wrapped around one of his for balance. His limbs were more long than thick, but that was more than alright, it was perfect, he was fucking perfect, smiling down at you in the streetlight, and if you stole a quick kiss while you were waiting for traffic to clear there was absolutely no one in the world who could blame you.

He stole one right back.

You briefly considered dragging him into a nearby alley.

That was not a thought you were used to having.

Who even was this guy?

But you managed to make it up to his room (you held yourself back from jumping him in the elevator, but Yoba it was close), and he ushered you in with a gentlemanly wave of his arm, and there was a box of books on his bed.

“Lemme see!” you all but squealed, throwing yourself on the bed next to the box and grabbing at the first book your hand fell on. It was a nice looking hardback, a mystery if the cover’s branding gave any indication. You rolled on your back, held the book above you, and flipped through the pages.

“Don’t read the end!” Elliott had joined you on the bed, grabbing the novel out of your hands. You gave him an annoyed look. “You’ll ruin the mystery,” he explained. 

“I was looking for juicy bits!” You sat up next to him, watched as he pulled a pen out of his jacket’s breast pocket. He tossed the garment onto a nearby chair and rolled up his sleeves. He had nice wrists. Sturdy but not thick, in balance with his long limbs and wide shoulders.

“No juice in this one, I’m afraid.” He opened the front page, began to write. 

“Well there’s your problem. Gotta go for the spicy stuff - people love that.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He finished his signature with a flourish, then met your eyes.

You were sitting very close.

He drew in a breath. 

You watched his mouth. 

“Any… any plot suggestions? For my next work?” His hand inched its way across the bed, his pinky finger hooking over yours as soon as he found it.

“Mmmm,” you said. “How about a world famous author has a little rendezvous with his biggest fan?”

“An interesting state of affairs.” Elliott was moving a little closer to you, his eyes focused on your lips. “Should I assume said rendezvous occurs after a book signing?”

“Oh yes,” you agreed. “The fan was absolutely thrilled that she caught her favorite author’s eye. She’d always fantasized about sharpening his pencil.”

Elliott burst into laughter.

“Dipping his quill?” You couldn’t stop grinning.

Elliott laughed harder.

“Thumbing through his thesaurus?” 

“Stop!” Elliott said. “You’ll put me out of a job, with metaphors like those!”

You would have kept going, but you couldn’t, and the reason for that was Elliott’s mouth over yours. Not like the quick peck stolen on your walk: he was bearing you back onto the bed, one hand finding your wrist and pinning it down, the other bracing your jaw. You gasped at the sudden change in position, the combination of surprise and alcohol making the room spin around you.

His lips weren’t touching yours. Not quite. 

They were hovering. A hair’s breadth above you, so close you could feel their warmth, a slight electricity sparking between you. His mouth was open, matching yours, so close, so very very very close, so frustratingly there but not actually touching, not completing the circuit, not kissing you like he should be but just teasing, and you couldn’t help the whine as his firm grip on your jaw kept you from chasing after his mouth and getting what you needed.

His hair had cascaded around you, hemming you in. He smelled like oak moss and citrus.

“Exquisite,” he whispered. He was so close you could feel the shift in the air as he spoke. 

“Fuck,” you whispered back, all needy desperation, and then finally he was kissing you.

And thank Yoba. It was like a dam had broken. All the restraint he showed a second ago was gone, and what was left in its place was movement, was heat, was his mouth pressing into yours, all shifting lips and tongue slipping in and hand tight around your wrist. You mewled, tried to arch yourself up closer to him, tried to wind your hand into his hair, but he was freeing your jaw to catch that wrist too, pinning you down fully, and all you could do was try to give back the same energy he was giving you, fast and hot and just the slightest edge of rough. 

You supposed it made sense that a man who was as good with words as Elliott was would have other talents. Kissing was absolutely one of them. You let yourself get swept up in it, swept under, his body shifting so his chest was on yours, pinning you down further, happy to use his bigger size to keep you in place, and Yoba’s fucking Light you were here for it.

He broke away with a small groan, pressed his forehead against yours. “Incredible,” he whispered. “Not… not too much to drink tonight, I hope?”

“No more than you,” you said. “I’m right where I want to be.”

A gentleman too.

Where the hell had this guy been?

“Marvelous,” he was saying, and his mouth was straying down to your neck. He brushed against your skin there, lips lax, each contact sending a shivery flash through your core. “You’re right where I want you to be too.”

And fuck if that didn’t have you moaning, shifting against his hands, caught between the need to touch him and the tension of being unable to. He bit softly over your pulse, then moved lower, mouthing over your collar, your breasts, pulling your wrists down with him as shifted until he was nuzzling at the line of skin between your shirt and your pants. He’d settled himself between your legs, and all it would take was a few more inches for him to be right where every atom in your body wanted him to be.

He pressed a long, slow kiss to your stomach and looked up at you through his eyelashes. His amber eyes looked dark.

“Yoba,” you moaned. “You’re so fucking pretty. What the fuck?”

He laughed into your skin, looked back down, and if you were a little less drunk and a little more perceptive you’d have thought he was being shy. He kissed your stomach again, then followed up with a nip of teeth. “May I?” he whispered, looking back up at you as he ran his tongue along the line where your jeans met your stomach.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, you may.”

“You do have a way with words,” he laughed, then he was letting go of your wrists, and your pants weren’t on anymore, underwear either, and he was between your legs, running his nose over the soft mound above your folds, breath hot and damp on your sensitive skin, and holy shit, you weren’t just being touched, you were being experienced. “Your aroma is divine,” he said.

“Bet I taste even better,” you challenged, and the surprised joy in his laugh made you want to preen.

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” he mused, and used a thumb and forefinger to part your folds. You gasped at the contact, then groaned as his tongue pressed against your entrance. It pulsed there for a moment, tasting, sampling you, then meandered up to stroke across your clit. 

You moaned, clutched at the bedspread as he lingered, tongue barely brushing your nub. You heard him breathe in deep through his nose.

“You do taste delectable,” he murmured, breath puffing against you. “Lucious, in fact.” You whined as he took another prolonged lick. It was incredible, and not nearly enough to satisfy the heat curling at your core. “I could enjoy you like this all night.”

“I think you’d kill me,” you gasped, and the way his laugh vibrated against you made you clench.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be prudent to do away with my biggest fan. Would you like me to make you come?”

“Uh huh, yup, absolutely would.” Your voice was less “playful” than it was “in great fucking need.”

“Marvelous,” Elliott said. “I’d like that as well.”

The man did not appear to be lying. His tongue set upon your clit with equal parts strength and precision. It flickered, seeming to hone in on the spot where “good” ceded to “absolutely stomach-clenchingly breath-stealingly perfect.” 

“Fuck,” you moaned, clutching at the bedspread tighter. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

He made an encouraging sound into you, rested his hands on the top of your hips, and if your eyes had been open you would have seen him staring up at you. They weren’t open, though. No way. You were beyond overwhelmed, the perfect cadence of Elliott’s tongue drawing all of your attention between your thighs.

And then he had the audacity to take a perfect sensation and make it even better, wrapping his lips around the apex of your folds, adding suction, a gentle pulsing around your clit as his tongue still moved, still fluttered, still hit that exactly perfect point, and holy shit, your legs were starting to shake, tension screaming up through your thighs and hips, and you were being a little bit loud, maybe, moaning and keening, and it would have been embarrassing how absolutely wrecked and desperate you sounded, but he kept making those sounds, kept encouraging you, kept sucking and flicking and drawing you up and up and up until you were rigid, taut, a bow drawn back and about to snap. 

You came with a cry, hips hitching, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, suspended for an eternal moment before finally softening, settling back down on the mattress. Elliott worked you through it, tongue growing softer and slower as you grew loose and relaxed. He drew away with a soft kiss to your mound, and then you were pulling him up by the shoulders, needing to feel his weight back over you, the press of his mouth, the taste of you on his tongue.

“Satisfactory?” he asked, pulling away from your mouth after a moment. The motherfucker looked smug, a cat with a feather hanging out of its mouth.

“You know that was more than satisfactory,” you groaned, giving him a gentle shove on the shoulder.

“Never hurts to hear it,” he said, then pressed another kiss to your mouth. He moved a little slower this time, deeper. He shifted over you, hips settling in between yours. 

“Two thumbs up,” you said as he trailed his mouth over your jaw. “Five stars. Number one with a bullet. A triumph. Dazzling.”

“I suppose that will do.” He sounded like he was smiling as he buried his face against your neck. You took what felt like a chance and ran your fingers along his scalp. He groaned quietly, shifted his hips against yours.

“You know,” you murmured, curling your fingers into his hair. “It’s always been a fantasy of mine to suck my favorite author’s cock.”

You felt your favorite author’s cock twitch against you.

“Astounding,” Elliott said. His nose was tracing the shell of your ear. “So specific yet so achievable.”

“Isn’t it?” 

His hand was on your breast, squeezing, more rough than refined as he shifted his hips against you. “Coincidentally,” he said, “I got into writing for the sole purpose of bringing eager fans back to my hotel room and fulfilling their fantasies.”

“Life’s just full of surprises, isn’t it?” You rolled over on your stomach as Elliott left the bed. He took his time unbuckling his belt, staring down at you as he unzipped his pants, and yeah, okay, cool, a show was nice and all, but that wasn’t why you were here, you wanted action, so it was less “Elliott pulled his cock out” and more “you ransacked Elliott’s boxer-briefs until you found what you were looking for.”

Either way, you were staring at the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. Just like him: long and elegant, framed by auburn curls, pink at the tip, and if you licked your lips a bit upon seeing it it wasn’t just for show.

“Five stars. Ten out of ten. S-tier. Best damn cock I’ve ever seen.” You were babbling, but it was worth it to see the slight flush of pink on Elliott’s face.

“Is this how you’d like to be, darling?” His voice was soft as he brushed a lock of hair out of your face.

“Hell yeah it is,” you replied, shifting forward on your stomach so his cock was in range of your tongue. 

“Anything for a fan.” He smiled as he gathered your hair up behind your head, and you couldn’t help but smile too as his cock pressed in between your lips.

After that you were too busy trying to keep up to do much smiling.

It wasn’t that Elliott was shifting his hips with an absurd amount of force, or particularly fast, or particularly deep. It was a combination of the three, multiplied by the position you were in, exponentiated by the lack of control. He gripped your hair firmly, not cruelly but not with any particular gentleness either, and the way his cock shuttled into your mouth made you want to squirm. You didn’t have to hold your neck at an awkward angle. You didn’t have to maneuver your jaw, purse and suck and distort your lips. All you had to do was take it, at exactly the pace and depth that Elliott dictated.

He watched you as he fucked into your mouth. His lips were parted, eyes soft. He ran a thumb along your lips, spreading the wetness that was collecting there, a look somewhat akin to awe on his face. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered

It felt incredible.

You felt incredible. 

Desirable and desired. 

You did everything you could to loosen your jaw further, to welcome him in deeper, to let the small choked sounds escape your throat. He gasped and moaned in return, quiet words of praise falling from his lips as his speed increased (“ravishing… absolutely ravishing… you are so perfect, so ideal… bewitching… unspeakably good, darling, so good… so perfect“). 

The taste of salt grew. His hands were a little tighter in your hair now, his thrusts a little deeper.

“I’m going to come,” he said, voice tight. “May I… in your mouth?”

You made the most affirmative-sounding noise as it was possible to make with your mouth stuffed full of cock, and then he was freezing, hips twitching, and it was all you could do not to gag as your mouth and throat filled with his release. 

Generally speaking swallowing was not your thing, but how often does a gal get to polish off her favorite author like that?

And the way Elliott fell to his knees, trembling palms gently holding your face, pressing his forehead against yours? That was pretty nice too.

“You are… there are no words…”

You wondered if that was a first for him.

“You have to get famous now,” you said, “so I can be all like ‘I blew him when…’”

Elliott was laughing now, and so were you, and as he kissed you there was no doubt in your mind that despite the way the evening began, this would absolutely go down as one of the better nights of your life.

Later, he’d walk you down to your cab, and you’d press a piece of paper into his hand. You’d written your number on it, and signed it with a heart. “Your #1 Fan,” you’d written. 

And the book he'd signed for you? You held it close the whole way home.

Masterlist

[midgardian-witch]

Heavy Lies The Crown

My entry for the April Fool's Event from the Council of Oscar Discord Server hosted by @winniethewife, @ominoose and me ✨

Inspired by the works of Chuck Tingle we paired up Oscar Isaac characters with inanimate (depending on the context) objects to share fun times (or even sexy times) with the fandom for the silliest day of the year 🩵

tags: possession | cuckolding (kinda) | cum eating | mind control | humiliation kink

ships: King John/Crown, King John/unnamed female character

word count: 699

Oh, look at her, my little Kinglet.

His eyes roam over the naked form writhing under his body: a gorgeous woman moaning and whining in the throes of passion. 

His hands grip her hips tightly; but they are not his hands at that moment. They are not his hands as it is not his cock throbbing in that tight cunt; not his mouth sucking on her nipples and not his tongue laving over her skin. 

No, all of this belongs to it.

The proud King John is but an audience to what it does to their companion for the night; watching his body move on its accord. He can't even feel it, only watch as it fucks their willing lover into the mattress.

If you're good I might let you taste her cunt after I am done with her.

If he could feel his dick John is sure it would pulse in eager anticipation. Alas all feeling is cut off of his senses while it is in control. 

How weak he is to be controlled so easily. A pathetic excuse for a king to be goaded and teased like this. Truly a disgrace to his bloodline. 

What utter bliss.

It feels like a dream, his body moving like a marionette while he can do nothing but watch. Hard and fast he is thrusting into the wet cunt of their companion, fucking her with reckless abandon. It is good at what it does, the woman under them screaming in joyous elation as she convulses, her peak rapidly approaching.

I pity the poor maidens and stableboys who had to make due with your own feeble skills.

The disappointed and almost disgusted tone of its voice shoots like lightning down his back, the prickle of humiliation tingling along his spine like the caress of a seasoned lover.

It would surprise me if any of them found bliss at your hands, my Kinglet. Thankfully I have decades of experience in the art of lovemaking. 

Only a tiny voice at the back of his mind is left that wants to argue, to bite back, to protect his manhood and self-esteem. That voice rings hollow as it is drowned out by the dulcet tones of the crown resting on his head. It does not move, no matter how viciously his hips are thrusting or his body moves during this rigorous fucking. The crown was all but fused to his head, bonded to him until his inevitable end.

With a few more thrusts the frantic begging and pleading of their companion turns into a drawn out, high-pitched moan as she climaxes. The crown moves his hands gently over her body, soothing the overstimulated maid with careful touches. He can hear his own voice rumble sweet nothings as it cares for their current bedmate. There is a sting deep behind his ribcage, a longing for closeness but John pushes it aside. 

Are you ready for your reward?

As a king begging is beneath him but if the crown asked it of him John knows he wouldn't hesitate to fall to his knees and plead. Instead it takes all of his willpower to simply agree. He can't move his head but through whatever curse, magic or divine power it uses the crown is aware of his affirmation.

Slowly a prickling, starting at his fingertips and toes, spreads across his body, like a limb regaining a constant blood flow. His body feels foreign but it is his again. At least for now.

“Let me have a taste, sweetness,” he coos, to the maid or the crown he does not rightly know. 

Eager mutt.

Another shock of humiliation runs through him like lightning but John muffles the embarrassing moan threatening to fall from his lips by putting his mouth to the swollen cunt of their companion. 

The taste of their mixed desire coats his tongue and he groans against her sensitive folds. The woman under him squeals and shakes with overstimulation but he pays it no mind, eagerly lapping up its spent, lost in savoring the flavor.

He may not be in control of his own body most of the time nowadays but the crown makes it all worth it.

[dragon-ascent]

You see Liyue's god, Morax, on the street and you lose your mind.

★彡takes place centuries ago, when Rex Lapis was said to be close with his people, Rukkhadevata still existed, etc.

In Teyvat, where gods and monsters roam the land, it is only natural that stories of the divine weave their way into daily life. As a child, you'd been accustomed to poring over books and pictures of the gods of other nations. Like Baal with her elegant, thundering might that could cleave whole islands in half in one stroke, and the playful Barbatos, who could blow away even the tallest mountains with a single gust of wind. They were all so charming, so ethereal, so complex. Your own god was no less impressive - the beautiful and divine Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, whose blessings of wisdom gave rise to your thriving nation.

The god that fascinated you the most, however, was Morax - or Rex Lapis, as the people of his nation so reverently called him.

In all the stories you'd read and the plays you'd seen, Rex Lapis was depicted as a fierce warrior god who could overcome any adversity thrown his way. He'd minted Mora from his own divine body, altered the landscape of Liyue during major battles, and bestowed blessings of illumination upon his adepti companions.

Most importantly, he is handsome.

Yes, it's a little silly to swoon over a religious deity, but...look at him. Every story you've read depicted him in the same way, be it in Inazuman manga or Sumerian amar chitra katha: long dark hair that was securely fastened by a gilded pin; toned arms that shimmered with hues of black and gold; and glimmering amber eyes set upon a face that seemed to be chiseled by Celestia itself.

Honestly, Rex Lapis is the main reason you're interested in pursuing higher studies in Liyue rather than in Sumeru, much to your parents' disdain. Why go to Liyue when Sumeru has a perfectly reputable Akademiya with well-established Darshans? But they know they cannot stop you: when your reverence for Rex Lapis has far transcended your devotion to Rukkhadevata almost since the moment you were born, why shouldn't you gain the opportunity to get closer to the god you love most?

So the day you get the acceptance letter from your dream academy in Liyue Harbor, it's a most joyous occasion indeed. After much jumping and screaming and cheering, you lay out your plan for when you first get to Liyue to settle into your dorm for the academic year:

Step 1: Find Rex Lapis.

Step 2: Woo him and become his consort...or something.

A masterfully-crafted plan, is it not?

---x---

It's not a far journey from Sumeru; the two are neighboring countries after all, and it takes about a day and a half by cart to get to the harbor. That's where Rex Lapis is most active, so you should certainly be able to catch a glimpse of him at least once during your fortnight here, yes?

Throughout almost the entire journey, your nose is buried in stories of Rex Lapis mingling with his people. Oftentimes this is done while he is incognito, his golden eyes the only thing giving away his identity.

Yes, that's another thing about him that wildly interests you - out of all the archons, he's one of the closest to his people. That's the whole basis for your master plan, no? It wouldn't work if he were to be cooped up in Taishan Mansion like he was originally supposed to be.

The scenery shifts from thick forests to vast valleys, and before you know it you've crossed the Sumeru-Liyue border. The landscape shifts to warmer colours, the ever-present green now blending with hues of red and gold. Mountains dot the horizon, and your heart pounds with excitement at the thought of Rex Lapis having formed them all himself. And, the moment you see a Statue of the Seven come into view and it's Rex Lapis instead of Rukkhadevata, you find yourself squealing for the carriage to be stopped for a moment.

Hurrying out and almost tripping over yourself with giddiness, you make your way over to the statue. "Oh my gosh!" You can hardly believe it yourself, but his stone likeness sits upon a throne, his face shrouded by a hood as he gazes contemplatively at a cube in his hand. With the way he's sitting...surely you can nestle yourself on his lap!

The carriage's coachman pulls you back before you can climb up the statue and incur your first penalty in Liyue.

---x---

Fortune is on your side for the most part, for your dorm is located in the perfect spot near your academy-to-be, and you get a lovely seaside view from your window. The rent came cheap as well, and you had a smooth and seamless moving-in experience.

The area where fortune is not on your side, however, is in the fact that you've been here for a week and haven't seen neither hide nor hair of the Geo archon. You'd been traipsing around the harbor all week to the point that you could probably point out all the landmarks like a local, but there was no sign of a certain golden-eyed man at all. (You knew this because you'd made sure to look into everyone's eyes - not long enough to be creepy but just long enough to get some confused looks.)

One consolation was the fact that the people of Liyue loved talking about their experiences with their god: how he had once used a spoon from this place to try food from that stall, how he had written a poem for this store and had personally named that restaurant...his presence was interwoven with the stories of this city and could certainly not be de-threaded from them.

So where on earth was he now?

Your question is answered when you're out buying potatoes at the market ("Rex Lapis himself had suggested this place sell potatoes!"), when the vendor nearly knocks your bag over as he bows deeply to the tall man who has appeared beside you. "Rex Lapis, it is an honor and a pleasure to see you back here again!"

You nearly drop those damn potatoes.

"Ah, think nothing of it, my friend. The vegetable arrangements you craft out of food waste are simply a delight to behold - and economical, as well. One might even say that..." As his rich, deep baritone engulfs your ears, you finally muster the courage to look up at him. The moment you do, your jaw practically drops to the pavement.

The manga and amar chitra katha weren't lying. If anything, they weren't even doing justice to his appearance.

Beautiful amber eyes set upon a chiseled face that exuded equal parts royalty and congeniality; long, silky dark hair held together by a lustrous gold pin; and through his archon robes you could make out the shape of his toned and muscular body.

"Ohmagaissreallyyouohgaohwhadahek..."

You hadn't realised you'd just babbled something until the god stops mid-conversation and turns to look at you curiously.

"Pardon me, little one, I didn't quite catch that."

Your legs feel like they're made of water; yet somehow you don't fall to the ground. He's looking at you, oh gods he's looking at you. "Uhhhhhh," is all you can utter.

He offers you a warm smile that could put even the morning sun to shame. If your voice worked, you would scream "I'm in love with you" at him. "Yours is a face I have not seen around here before. A visitor to my land, I assume?"

The only thing you can do right now is nod meekly. The god's eyes twinkle.

"Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay here. Liyue has much to offer, regardless of what it is you may be looking for." You nod dumbly yet again as he finishes his conversation with the vendor and, with a nod to you, Rex Lapis begins to stroll down the street.

Clearly his presence is not an infrequent occurrence, for everyone who passes by him merely greets him with mild nervousness and reverence, as opposed to hurling themselves at his feet and wailing words of praise at him.

Finally, your legs start working again. Before you know it, you find yourself running towards him. Rex Lapis, sensing your footsteps, turns to look at you.

You pause, catching your breath. Your heart is hammering away in your chest, and it's not because of the running. "I...have something I want to say to you...m-my lord!"

"Yes?" He eyes you curiously, head slightly cocked.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling. So many things to say, so little brain juice in you... "I - I think you're very handsome!"

Saying this, you run off, leaving the god to stand there and process what had just transpired. Classy.