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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year

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Switched Sides 2 - Lloyd Hansen Series

Character: Lloyd Hansen x former Hitman!FemaleReader

Summary: Y/N L/N quit her job as a hitman to take care of her nephew after her stepbrother died. It’s been a year since she became a good aunt to her nephews, and she wants to keep it that way. But her quiet life got disturbed when her former boss asked for her help.

Warning: Nothing.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments and funny GIF.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Last Chapter

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

Disaster.

That's the perfect way to describe the situation. Today is supposed to be the first day of the school's anniversary celebration.

Every participant for the bazaar was scattering around to pick up all their stuff and set up their tent back to the correct position because a strong force of wind flew all their property, including Y/N vegan brownies cake.

A helicopter suddenly landed in the middle of the football field near the food bazaar.

Every parent, teacher and student was shocked by what happened, and they were even more surprised when people that came out wearing black suits like a secret service approached Y/N.

"Y/N L/N, we need your help." The person standing in front of her is her former colleague Bruno. His code name is 'Poison'.

She knows the only person who will use this method is Lloyd Hansen.

"Y/N, you're not in trouble, right?" A trembling voice came from Jenny, who stood behind Y/N, along with others who were confused with the situation in front of them.

–Flashback Starts–

Everyone was busy setting up their tent, including Y/N until a strong wind and loud sound approached the school.

"Is that a helicopter?

"What happened?"

"Oh my god, are there terrorists at school?"

"No, the decoration is ruined because of the wind!!!"

"Catch the flower buckets!!! That flowers are imported!!!"

–Flashback Ends–

"No, ma'am, the country needs her help." Bruno fixes his aviator, acting friendly towards Jenny. She would never believe this man is dangerous because he uses hazardous chemicals to finish his target.

Jenny grabs Y/N's hand. "If you ever need help, call me. My father knew a few senators."

Lloyd knew a few senators too, and he kept them like figure dolls. He's far more powerful than senators.

"Thank you." Y/N tapped Jenny's hand to assure her that she was okay.

"Give me your car keys; my subordinate will drive your car back to your home."

Y/N gave him the car keys. She doesn't need to tell her address. They have known it beforehand.

"You could bring your…" Bruno pointed at the little human underneath him. "Nephew's with you."

With Kendall in her arms, and her other hand holding Mark, she entered the helicopter quickly so they could leave the school as soon as possible.

"Wow, this is so cool, Aunty."

The helicopter starts to go up, and everyone is in their seat. From the window, Mark saw his classmate look jealous. He lifted his middle finger towards them, but his aunt lowered his hand. "That's rude."

Mark felt embarrassed and lowered his head. "Sorry, Aunty." Y/N shook her head and then checked on the little one who sat on her lap and wore a cancelling headphone noise.

She thought Kendall would be scared, but he's enjoying it. His short legs keep moving up and down.

Bruno sat near her, surprised to see her being gentle, "You've changed, Y/N."

Y/N looked at Bruno, not amused; the way he picked her up would ruin her cover as a regular aunt, and people at the school will ask questions.

"Was it necessary to make an entrance like this?"

Bruno chuckled. "If you didn't ignore him, today wouldn't have happened. Every cause has consequences."

She scoffed, "He must be desperately asking me for help."

"Oh, he is. And we need old Y/N to come back."

Mark clenched her shirt, and she felt it. He must be scared thinking about her old job. Her fingers gently brushed his hair, and she said, "It's gonna be alright."

They have arrived at the top of the building. Y/N knew this place was one of their headquarters, and the location was in the same city. It's better this way than their usual hideout place inside the forest; kids will get scared.

"Wait here", said Bruno and left them.

After waiting for 5 minutes, the owner of the building appeared. He was standing tall with a well-built body. He'd wearing a black shirt, a leader jacket, beige pants and black shoes.

Lloyd smiled. "Hi, pumpkin, did you miss me?"

Y/N does not answer because she is pissed. Lloyd understands her anger. So he wants to mess with the tiny little guest by saying, "I'm your father."

Kendall, who was silent this whole time, suddenly cried, "Waaa…not daddy."

Y/N clicked her tongue; she rubbed his back to calm him down. "Thanks, Lloyd. It took half an hour to stop his crying."

"Uupss." Lloyd chuckled; he didn't feel sorry even one bit.

"What do you want?"

"I need your help since you are the best tracker in the team."

"You said my method is old-fashioned."

"Here's a thing, since I ruined a tourist attraction in some European country, the Big Boss boss banned me from doing any damage."

When Y/N is still working with him, they always argue about how to get their target. She preferred quiet but deadly, while Lloyd chose loud and messy.

"Who do you need to catch?"

"You agree to help?" Lloyd raised his eyebrows, and he was surprised she quickly agreed.

"If I don't do it, you will bother me again until I say yes. What will I get if I do you a favour?"

"A medicine for him." Lloyd looks at Kendall.

"I know you have the money for his oral medicine, but you must wait a year. If you help me, I will give you the medicine tomorrow."

"How?"

"Let's just say there's a patient that doesn't deserve it."

That's a sign she should stop asking.

"Aunty." Y/N looked down at Mark, who wanted to cry.

"I'll be alright. Could you watch Kendall for a while?"

"Nooo." He shook his head and stomped his foot.

Lloyd doesn't want to hear a kid crying in his place. "Bring him, he won't understand anything."

They moved to another floor. On their way to the control room, Mark saw a sports car inside the building. How did they get the sports car into the skyscraper?

He looked up at Lloyd with adoring eyes. Lloyd felt this kid was watching him, so he just smiled back.

*****

"So, who is this?"

"An accountant of the drug cartel."

"He picked the wrong enemy?"

"Yup, and the CIA want to use him to put the drug cartel to jail. But the problem is, he's good at hiding."

"Give me his profile."

Y/N read the profiles thoroughly and picked maps. Her fingers traced the map, then picked a red marker to make an 'X' sign "He's here."

"How did you know?"

"He's a loner, and doesn't have many friends, so I saw his GPS history, sometimes he always visits the area around his university. He felt safe in a place that was nostalgic to him. So that means…"

Y/N pointed at the 'X' sign on the map. "He's here."

"You heard her; send the team around that area." Lloyd gave an order to his subordinates.

"Can we go home now?"

"No, stay here until we find him. I don't want to go back and forth to pick you up. The gas for the helicopter is expensive."

"Ugh, fine."

******

While waiting for the result, Lloyd ensured three of them got comfortable. He notices Y/N's nephew doesn't feel scared, perhaps because they know her aunt is there to protect them.

"You haven't put him down since you got here. Your arms don't get numb?"

Kendall rested his head on her chest, sleeping while his mouth opened. For Y/N, looking at Kendall is this calm, and her tiredness is gone. "No, he's not heavy."

"Hmm, I understand why he loves being in your arms."

Lloyd leaned his head on her shoulder and hugged her left side. "Because I felt home every time I rested my head on your chest." He winked at her. She pushed him away, but he won't budge.

He wants to move away from her, but because of the little kid, she smells like a baby, and he likes her new smell.

Mark looked at this man acting close to Y/N. He whispered in her ear, "Aunty, is he your boyfriend?"

Lloyd smiled at the innocent question. "Yes, yes, I am." He has this proud look on his face and gives a peck on Y/N's cheek.

His moustache tickled her, so she pushed him away. "Don't give him any ideas."

"Mister, why did you call aunty Y/N pumpkin?"

"Because that's her favourite food."

"Really?" He doesn't know his aunt's favourite food, while she knows their likes and dislikes.

Mark's eyes sparkled, this man had a helicopter, and cars, owned many computers, and he knew Y/N's favourite food. He's cool.

*****

After 4 hours, she finally got the news.

Lloyd wears a big smile on his face. "They caught him. I knew I could count on you."

Y/N, while carrying Kendall and Mark, they immediately stand up from their seat. "Great. So send us back home."

"Eh, I want to invite you to have dinner together."

"Lloyd, you don't like kids."

"I could tolerate them as long as I'm with you."

"My patience has its limits." Not just her but the kids too. She could sense her nephew getting bored and exhausted. If they don't go home, both boys will start their tantrums.

"Alright." He offered a handshake when she wanted to shake his hand. Lloyd suddenly pulled her into his arm and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Lloyd wasn't kidding. The next day he visited her at her house to deliver medicine for Kendall.

She doesn't know I'd the medicine worked well or not, but it made Kendall sleepy. At least this time, he's not crying in pain.

Since Kendall fell asleep, she couldn't pick Mark up at school. That means she needs to ask a favour. "Lloyd, could you get my nephew at school?"

"Am I a chauffeur now?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she gave him a killer gaze at him, which made Lloyd nod. "Alright, but I want to have dinner with you tonight."

******

Never in a million years would Lloyd think he would step into school again.

While he walks around looking for Mark, every mother and nanny who waited for their kids is looking at Lloyd. It's easy to spot him since he's the tallest person in the area. His style is also modest and stylish.

Then he heard a bunch of kids surrounding one kid; he knew who it was.

Mark is standing alone while his classmates are in the group. His cheeks were red because he was frustrated. "Why can't I join the marathon tomorrow?"

"That's because you don't have a father. It's a father-son marathon."

"What if you team up with our gym teacher? Everyone knows he likes your aunty."

Mark stomped his foot. "No!!!" He doesn't want his gym teacher as his running partner, that would be cheating, and Mark doesn't want his teacher to get close to Y/N.

Then he felt a shadow covering him, and he saw his friend stepping back while their eyes looked up.

He raised his head and saw the person he met yesterday, Mister Lloyd.

Suddenly he got an idea; with his little body, he clung to Lloyd's leg like a koala and looked at his friend. "He is my aunt's boyfriend, and I will join the marathon tomorrow with him!!!"

It's not just Mark's friends who were shocked but also Lloyd. This will be the first time an 8-year-old kid dumbfounded Lloyd.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments and funny GIF.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Last Chapter

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

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#switched sides series #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #llyod hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #soft!dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x fem!reader

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dearsnow · 1 year

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SALT FARE, NORTH SEA

- when a dragon falls from the sky, decimating your ship and bringing a strange boy along for the ride, you begin to question if the some of the targaryens are really as bad as they seem. (aged up!lucerys velaryon x fem!reader, angst to fluff, ur burning hatred is quenched by time spent on the sea 🤞) MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON! au where vhagar doesn’t kill luke, arrax just gets absolutely mauled and falls out of the sky. aged up luke because I didn’t realize he was that young when i started writing 💀. ⚠️ TW for death, suicidal thoughts, and trauma.

word count: 4,213 (jesus christ)

a/n - ohhhh my god guys i’m back!!!! this was certainly a labor of love. i don’t know if I’ll start writing consistently again, but i really hope i do. i love you guys so much and thank you for the continued support even when i’m on hiatus! also i’m sorry if luke is ooc because i choose to believe he’s quietly funny and a little bit of a menace 😭

As the waves batter the sides of your ship, you don’t feel seasick. You feel the spray, see the occasional silvery fish zip by under the water. The sun beats down on your exposed neck and the motion swirls your mind, but you are sick for an entirely different reason.

Betrothal. God, you hate how that word sits on your tongue like a hot piece of meat. You are to be sent off to the their of family, married into their lineage and forced to bear their children until your womb shrivels like a sun-dried date. Of all of your options, the Targaryens are certainly the worst.

Aemond, in particular. You’ve heard stories of his cold demeanor, how he could kill you with a look. With his hands, too. He is quite the skilled swordsman, not that you would ever wish to witness it. He is the one you are set to marry.

Oh, the misery. The horror. You can feel bile rising in your throat whenever someone mentions him or his mother, great Queen Alicent.

You figure, though, at least it isn’t his brother.

You come from a noble family. It was bound to happen anyways. Trade your Martell name for some haughty lord’s and become his sow for the rest of your life. Your short, miserable life. In some ways, you are a bit grateful. You will never want for food and you know you’ll bring great honor to your family by marrying into the Targaryens.

You just wish you could marry for another reason, not just forging alliances and heating up old, cold ones. You could have a happy life with the person of your choosing. You could sell fish on the shores of the sea and pick flowers in a field.

You play with this notion in your head before you hear a mighty crash and the sound of splintering wood.

The screams come mere seconds later. They pierce the air as snapping bones and rending flesh ring out. You stumble back, nearly falling off the edge of the ship. Large chunks of meat have started raining from the sky, crushing everything in their path.

You feel your heart beat so fast it nearly leaps out of your chest as you scramble for friction. Fuck, what the hell?

With the meat there comes blood, great amounts of it. It trips the sailors up, sending them careening over the wooden edges and into the sea.

You narrowly miss the giant dragon wing that splits the boat in two. The entire thing has started sinking, and your blood runs cold.

The ship is tilted from the massive gash in the center. Water is mixing with blood, and your dress is soaked to the bone. You can’t help but think that the finest silks Dorne can offer will drag you to the bottom of the depths.

As you clamber to the top of the ship’s bow as another fast-moving figure falls into the water. You don’t notice it in the moment.

A shove comes from behind, pushing you to the side. Your back aches where you were struck.

“M’lady, m'lady! The lifeboat, you must take the boat. Go, go! Right now, m'lady.”

It’s Finhard, the deck swabber. He has two missing fingers, a lame knee, and a million stories. He swabbed the deck of The Sandstorm from port to port, collecting any and all information he could along the way. You loved talking to him so much it made the trip almost worth it. He always helped you sneak food to the cat stowing away on board. The cat you’re sure is now dead.

“What about you?” You question, voice loud but shaky. You can’t just leave him here.

“I’m a dead man, m’lady. I don’t matter.”

“But you do!” You insist, tugging on his arm. The screams are still ringing like alarms, and your limbs feel locked and like jelly at the same time.

“No, no. I might sink it. Girl’s damaged already. Please go, girlie. Jus’ remember me when you eat your next fish, alright?”

A pit pools in your stomach as you whip around to look at the small lifeboat. He’s right. The boat wouldn’t be able to hold you and a grown man, at least not one of Finhard’s size.

“Get on. I’ll push ya off, and you better have a damn good time with that prince of yours.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you watch your trusted confidant steel his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Finhard. I’m so so sorry,” You sob, clutching his rough palms. “I promise I’ll think of you always.”

“Thas’ all I ask for.” His voice is rough and uncut, hardened yet soft, like a feather made of chainmail. He picks you up like a sack of potatoes and places you in the rickety boat with the gentleness of a father setting down his newborn. He gives you one final kiss on the forehead before untying the boat and shoving it into the roiling water.

Small hairs cling to your forehead as the ship lights up in a blaze sure to be seen from the shore. Your face is so wet with tears you feel as though the ocean is the product of them.

You sob into your hands as the people who took care of you on your journey sink, their bawls leaving a scar in your memory.

It’s not even ten minutes after the foremast begins to sink that you see a dark shape bobbing along in the water next to you. You stifle a gasp, thinking it must surely be a shark or a dead man. The water around it was red and heavy.

When it floats closer to you, you see for the first time that it’s a boy. A boy who must be around your age, maybe sixteen or seventeen. His wrist gives a little twitch, and you resolve that you must rescue him.

He wasn’t on your ship unless he was stowing away in the barrels, as teenagers often do. No matter his situation, you grab his soaked shirt and give a hard tug.

The effort almost tips your boat, nearly sending you spiraling into the water. You give a little huff. The waterlogged boy is definitely heavier than you expected.

You try again, managing to get his arm hooked around the side of the boat. From there, it’s just a game of strength- you pull him up, using his clothing as a sort of lever to shimmy him out of the water. You roll him over, the water streaming off of him re-splattering your already wet clothes with water and fresh blood. The boat dips a little with his weight, but it does not sink. You praise the Seven under your breath. He has a cut on the side of his head, one that requires medical care far past the simple fixes you’ve learned.

You try to dress it anyways. Ripping a long strip of cloth from the bottom of your underskirt, you wrap it up and pray he doesn’t lose much more blood.

You can still hear the creaking of The Sandstorm, though any humans were sucked under long ago. It makes a melancholy sound, blending with the waves and the seabirds and the rain that has started pattering down. A lump forms in your throat as you gaze at the wreckage. Hot water slides down your face as you sit in your little lifeboat, waiting for death that will most certainly come for your throat.

It’s about two hours of lonely drifting before the boy wakes up. He opens his eyes slowly, then they widen as he gives a gurgling shout.

“Augh!” You stifle a giggle, though your voice is still wobbly from sobs.

He notices you and sits up, bewildered. As he takes in his surroundings, you sit and watch.

“Who are you? Where am I? Where is Arrax?”

“I am nobody now, and we are in the middle of the ocean,” You gesture to the water surrounding every inch of your sight. “And I don’t know who Arrax is.” He sure has a lot of questions, though you can’t fault him for it.

“Arrax, my dragon. I… I think he’s…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

You stare at him in shock.

“Your dragon? The dragon that fell out of the sky in twenty pieces?” You question, voice heated. “The one that just killed a crew of fifty-two men?”

He’s silent for a moment. “So he’s dead?”

“Of course he’s dead, you imbecile! Did you not hear what I just said? He killed them. All of them. I’m the only survivor.”

“I’m sorry.” He mutters. He brings his knees to his chest and hugs them. “It was never my fault. It was him that killed Arrax, so it is him that killed your crew.”

“Who is him?”

“That bastard of a prince, Aemond. He and his dragon, Vhagar, chased us across the skies and attacked us in the air.”

Your hands tighten into fists as your throat constricts like you swallowed a spiny rock. You regret ever saving the boy, and you regret not slitting your throat when you heard of your betrothal to the murderer. Everything you’ve heard about Aemond is true. Your rage boils into hatred, and you swear that if you ever see him you will die and take him with you.

“So that must mean you’re a Targaryen too?” You say, trying to keep your voice level. It’s a skill you had to learn as a noble lady, but the hate building in your chest is almost too violent to quiet.

“Lucerys Velaryon, my lady.” He eyes you, taking note of your expensive yet ruined dress. He must know you’re not a commoner either.

You know the Targaryens are the only ones with proper access to a dragon, but you should have known that only someone descended from one could cause such absolute and utter destruction. It’s not Lucerys’s fault, you tell yourself. Don’t put the blame on him. Put on a smile and become your best even-tempered and kind self. But gods, the way you want to wring his neck for an event he seemingly had no control over.

“Why did he do it?” You ask. The tears from earlier start creating a pressure behind your eyes again.

“Because I took his eye.” Lucerys’s voice is weak, but it has the strum of nobility that you know like a well-oiled harp. “He wanted revenge, an eye for an eye. So I ran. He found me in the sky and bit my dragon in half. I never meant to kill anybody.” So they’re all the same, the princes. Hardened and cruel and psychopaths. “Did you save me?”

“I suppose I did.” You want so badly to say ‘but I shouldn’t have’, but you hold your tongue.

“That is a debt I can never repay. Thank you. I’m truly sorry.” You shake your head. It’s not his fault, you repeat. You still cannot find it in yourself to forgive him. “What’s your name?”

You think for a brief moment. It wouldn’t hurt, you think, to tell him your name. That way when you both die, at least the man you’re stuck with will know the name of the woman that hated his family the most out of anyone in the world.

You speak your name, including your Martell family name, and he looks at you, eyes widened so much you think they will pop out of his skull.

“Aemond’s betrothed?” You are marrying into the greens, and Lucerys feels as though he should hate you for it. Unluckily for his honor, he cannot despise the girl who pulled him from the sea.

“Yes, what sorry luck.” You spit. “I would rather drown than go through with it.” You think of the promise you made to Finhard. “No, I would put poison in his chalice and watch him drink it.”

He laughs a bit, his voice ringing out against the repetitive sound of waves. “And I will buy the poison.” You allow yourself to smile. You hate it, but you smile.

You’ve always been the weirder daughter, yet the one that tries to talk with the lords and ladies and puts on a shining performance. That’s where the smile comes from, from all the times you’ve had to put your pearly whites on display. The morals have gone to shit, but the reflex is still burned into your person.

“You needn’t call me ‘my lord’. We’re even here, out on the sea.” He says. You can feel that’s not the only reason. A spark of guilt shimmers in the corners of his eyes. “Just call me Luke.”

“And you may call me by my name, Luke.” He’s right. There are no titles, only salt water and spray.

You watch the moon in the sky as it shines its beams down on your face. It sees everything. Every deal in secret, every promise you’ve ever made. It’s a gentle reminder that every person sees the same thing every night. You and Luke sit in silence, staring up at it. You wonder if your mother sees it too, from her ship. Can Finhard and the other sailors see it, from their watery graves? Can they forgive you for not saving them? For saving the life of a boy, whose mass is just under the weight limit of the boat? You glance over at him.

He’s staring at you, at how the soft rays of the moon highlight the curves and edges of your face. He feels a pit in his stomach, one that is not from hunger. It’s a gnawing feeling, guilt. He hates that he had to trade his life for fifty sailors. He thinks he would rather be at the bottom of the sea than see more tear tracks on your face. Another feeling eats at him, though he’s not sure what it is. It makes his insides churn and scrambles his mind.

He averts his eyes and looks at the stars once more.

You spend another two days floating in the water. You’re both sunburned and salt dried, and his skin is red and peeling. The conversation between the both of you had been dry up until today.

“May I have the flask?” He asks. You hand it over. For two whole days, all you have had to eat and drink is two flasks of water, a packet of dried fish, and some bread that has gone mushy from the water slowly seeping into your boat. You have to bail it out every hour or so.

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” Luke questions, his voice rough. “Is anyone coming for us?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I would like to think there are boats out searching, but truly, they must expect us to be dead. Besides that, we have drifted so far away from the shipwreck that we might not be found even if they were searching.” He shakes his head, hair stiff from the salty spray.

“I would like to keep hope alive.”

“You are the only one.” You hear a small laugh from next to you.

“You know, I could not ask for a better person to be stranded with.” He screws the cap back onto his flask carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you certainly know how to ration supplies. And your optimism is inspiring.” A giggle bubbles up from beneath your buried feelings.

“Is that sarcasm, my dear lord?”

He smiles. You can’t help but notice that his smile is contagious, the kind that reaches his eyes. The kind you found yourself dreaming about, and the kind you are certain your betrothed never wears.

“Only if you make it out to be.” He pauses. “So, what was your life like in Dorne?”

Your eyes narrow. Small talk? It brings you back to your past. Talking to potential suitors and bearing their questions as they try to judge if you’re worth their money. It’s almost nice, the reminder. Before the wreck, you had been happy. Cheerful, even. You were nothing like you are now, hardened and weak and so close to putting sand in your pockets and drowning you can taste the seawater.

“Why do you ask?”

“I figured it would be nice to know you. To really know you.” His words bring an odd sense of comfort to you.

“It was much nicer than this. I had friends and family, that was the best part. I never wanted for much of anything. I suppose I felt out of place sometimes, and I felt lonely like nothing else, but it helped to know that I could always have a home with the people I loved.” He nods, and the waves push against the boat. The sun is setting, condemning you to another sleepless night. “What about you?”

“I love my home, my people, and my family. I never felt up to the task of being lord of Driftmark, though,” He confesses, “and sometimes I still feel like a fraud. Gods, I don’t know why I told you that.” He knows. There’s something about your eyes, something that makes him want to spill every secret he has ever had. He wants to tell you about the time he stole Aemond’s knife, causing Aemond to pick a fight with Aegon. Or when he heard an argument between his mother and stepfather, or when his older brother snuck a frog into the pocket of a handmaiden. Your eyes burn with stifled anger and buried hopes and love.

You look at him with an odd expression. “It’s alright. Might as well get everything out while you can.” You know the feeling of not being enough well. “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully when we get out of here.” You find yourself comforting him for god knows what reason. You should be angry, full of hatred and buzzing bees, but you can only feel sympathy for the boy across from you.

“When we get out of here? Where was that optimism earlier?” He teases, making you smile.

“It was killed and brought back to life. I have decided that I’m not going to die.” His laugh rings out, showering you in a feeling that makes you shiver.

“That’s a good thing to decide. I swear it too, we are not going to die. Aemond will never kill our spirit nor our bodies.” He takes your hands, palms rough and calloused. It makes your heart pound in a way you never expected. “We will be alright.”

You nod, hope blooming in your heart. Suddenly, the world seems just a little bit brighter. That’s when you see it; the seagull flying overhead.

You gasp, pointing up to the sky. It lets out a sharp cry as it circles around, and soon Luke is looking at it too. You’re so relieved that tears well up in your eyes.

Land must be near. It has to be.

“Praise the gods.” He grins, dropping your hands to shield his eyes from the sun. “We will surely reach the shores soon.”

“I can only hope.” You whisper.

You spend another day on the water, your hopeful eyes searching for mountains or fields. All you can see is blue water, blue skies, and Lucerys Velaryon. You found that you’ve grown to like him, as fucked as your past self might have considered it. He actually treats you like a person.

He squints into the distance. “I still don’t see anything. Maybe… maybe the bird was a fluke. A gull straying too far from the shore.”

You hit his shoulder lightly. “Don’t think like that.”

“It seems we’ve switched roles,” He smiles, “you’re the positive one now.”

“We certainly have rubbed off on each other.” The corners of your mouth lift into a little grin. Truth be told, your own hope is starting to fade, but you will never let him know.

You’ve begun to notice things about the sea that you have never seen before. Schools of small fish darting below the surface, the pattern of the waves, even how chilly the water is. As the sun shines down, the water is peaceful. Maybe it’s a side effect of the trauma, or maybe it’s just you growing more comfortable with the idea of salt water. In any case, you suppose you need to look at its beauty to fan the dying flame of light burning inside you. It’s far easier to love than to keep hating.

“The day is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” You whisper.

“I suppose it is.” He says, but he’s not looking at the sky.

You are infatuating. The way the sun glints off your eyes enraptures him and keeps him in a state of lovely drunkenness. “Do you wish to marry my uncle?” There’s a hint of something more behind his voice. It’s almost desperate, and the thought makes you shiver.

You hesitate. “Not particularly. It would bring honor to my family, that I am sure of. So I will do it, but I will likely not enjoy it.”

“I understand that. I myself am betrothed to someone I can’t see myself loving.”

“The lady Rhaena Targaryen?” You know of her. The idea of him marrying the girl painted by the gods twists your heart in a way you can’t even comprehend.

He sighs. “Yes. It is my duty, but I cannot see her as anything but a sister. That’s all she’s been to me my entire life.”

“Duty is a wicked thing,” You muse, “pulling us away from opportunities to enrich our own lives.”

He nods. “If you could choose, is there anyone you would want to be married to?”

You think for a bit but eventually shake your head. “Do you have a special someone?”

“I am beginning to discover one.” He says. What does he mean by that?

When you look at him, staring far into the distance, you start to realize.

When the days grow dim, you huddle into each other for warmth. That’s why you fall asleep tonight, softened by his touch. Finally, you sleep for more than half an hour at a time. Luke’s arms are wrapped around you, as the lifeboat leaves little room for comfort, and the rock of the ship lulls you into a dream.

You wake to a jolt. You have no idea how long you’ve been asleep, but the moon is out and there is sand underneath your hull. Sand. Ground. You scramble to sit up, pulling Luke along with you. “Sand! Luke, it’s sand. We’ve made it! Gods be good, we have made it to land.” You grab at the wet grains, letting them clump and filter through your fingers. He lets out a loud cheer and pulls you in.

Out of nowhere, as you still have earth in your hands, he kisses you. His lips are rough and dry, but so are yours. He tastes like salt water and love.

When he finally pulls away, he is grinning like a lunatic. “We’ve made it, my lady. We survived.”

“What happened to our no titles agreement?” You tease, still flustered. Your cheeks are as hot as the surface of the sun.

“We’re on land now. The rules of society apply again, I’m afraid.” His whisper ghosts against your ear like he’s almost afraid to lose the closeness he gathered over the course of the last few days.

“Of course,” You say, pressing your lips to his cheek, “I would expect nothing different from such a high-ranking and strong man such as yourself.”

He places a hand where you kissed him. Your skin may be chapped, but that damned kiss was sweeter and softer than spun sugar.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding, my lady.” A glint of humor dances in his eye.

He steps out of the boat and offers a hand to you. The ground wobbles under your feet and you almost fall, but he is there to steady you. “Wait, I know this beach!” He realizes as he gazes upon the scenery. “It’s the beach off Dragonstone. I’m… I’m home.”

“Really?” You feel hope bubbling through your body. “You know where we are?”

“I do. Dragonstone is there, above those cliffs. Come on, let’s go!” He tugs your arm just a bit too hard, sending you sprawling into the sand. You grab onto his sleeve and pull him down too, leaving you both in a fit of giggles.

You’re both weak and tired and sore, but your flames grow brighter every second you’re on solid land. “Race me!” He yells, taking off from the ground on shaky feet. You dart after him, all your earlier burdens seemingly gone.

You probably won’t catch him, but it’s okay. Right now, your future is ahead of you, your rage is behind, the land pounds beneath your feet, and the boy with brown hair is calling for you to join him.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Taglist (bolded means unable to tag): @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @savagemickey03 @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @spaceandstars @bbosica @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy

#solar eclipse.#house of the dragon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #luke velaryon x reader #lucerys x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fic #lucerys strong #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon lucerys

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eriexplosion · 8 months

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Clone Wars - Downfall of a Droid & Duel of the Droids

Popping these two into one post since I felt like my thoughts on the first one were pretty short.

I had no memory of this one until I saw the thumbnail and was smacked in the face by my memory of that LITTLE GOLD BITCH, as I imagine R2 refers to him.

Grievous is yet again showing his Tactical Mastery by abandoning all plans and just plowing straight through an asteroid field. Truly batshit behavior from our favorite batshit metal man, never encountered a situation he couldn't make vastly more difficult on himself than it needs to be.

Meanwhile, Anakin shows off the power of the force by saying "I have a bad feeling about this" like it means something when he's staring directly at this.

Like yeah? A bad feeling? You don't say.

The medical scene is so goddamn LIT though. Actively unpleasant to look at. I understand that it's a medbay and they're often bright but did they have to do this to poor Rex?

Anyway this portion with Obi-Wan is actively frustrating where he gets fussed over Anakin wanting to go out and get R2 ('attachment is not acceptable for a Jedi' shut uppppppp Kenobi) and not having wiped his memory. Like, we know droids are sentient, stop just trying to replace him like an object. But then, I guess we did just get out of an arc where losing Plo Koon got responded to with "Oh no... anyway!" so you know. God forbid we save anyone's life or anything Remember To Abandon Your Friends Immediately.

Anakin calling Ahsoka Pookums for the fucking disguise though. Best he could come up with. POOKUMS. The action sequence with the assassin droids is fun though, I love the maneuvering in the narrow space. Anakin threatening the junk dealer though... okay, the thing is, I've seen this episode brought up before as showing Anakin's dark side potential and overattachment. But much like in the 'Ahsoka and Barriss are buried alive' situation, it always gets revealed that Anakin was RIGHT ALL ALONG. R2 WAS there, the guy WAS holding out on them actually, Stubby IS trying to get them killed etc. Anakin does have some genuine dark moments but in this episode he's just... correct, lol.

Still can't get over season one Ahsoka's horrible little stickbug arms.

Onto the next one though!

I love the music both of these episodes have used for all of R2's daring escape attempt scenes. The most incredibly difficult droid alive is engaging in Activities again.

The plan for the listening post shifting from 'just destroy the whole thing' to 'sneak aboard and THEN destroy it' because of R2 being on it but also THIS IS NOT A RESCUE MISSION is certainly a choice. Like if you're going to be sneaking aboard anyway, why NOT rescue R2 Obi-Wan? Do you have an actual reason other than getting tossed the Being Wrong Ball this arc?

"Oh and Rex, you get to carry him!" Rex is the LONGEST SUFFERING MAN. Take your captain and several others, but make sure that the captain is the one on 'carry the giant mech' duty. Can't possibly give him a more important job.

Of course, it's probably because the others are going to get murdered pretty fast, that's USUALLY what happens after all.

Speaking of murder.

Never ask to be paid more.

Also I had to look up one of the troopers that actually has his own paint job and apparently this is Denal who Bane ends up killing later. I will attach to him in the meantime so as to be properly sad when he gets unceremoniously killed.

I keep forgetting that Grievous and Anakin have to be kept apart this whole series and it hits me every time how silly this is, it's so fucking funny that they have to contend with this problem so as not to invalidate a .5 second line in the movies. Yes Grievous is their primary enemy no they have never met face to face, don't worry about it. Ahsoka will handle fighting him one on one. It's fine.

Anakin apologizing to R2 for DARING to get a replacement droid is adorable. R2 ANGRY BEEPS. Then it turns out he not only replaced R2 but he accidentally replaced him with a spy that's programmed in weaponized incompetence. Whoops.

The main thing I fully remembered from this arc is finally here though: R2 vs R3 fight. There's something so fucking funny about the dramatic setting of the narrow walkway being used for a fight between two droids approximately the size and shape of trash cans.

Back to Obi-Wan getting on my nerves again at the end though. Do not UNDERVALUE R2. He's an important member of the team damn it. Overall it's a fun pair of episodes but the way R2 gets talked about apparently turns me into a droid rights pamphlet.

#the clone wars chrono rewatch

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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An Accident

Yeah... you may have seen this before, earlier this week when I accidentally posted it. Anyways, this is a part 2 of the Todoroki clan being obsessed with reader's hair. So, um enjoy.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Rei is obsessed with reader’s hair.

She’s taken such good care of it, and after years of hard work, your hair now reaches just around your butt. Your hair is healthy, thick, luscious, and cut into a smooth, U shape; of course all trims are done by Rei herself because she doesn't even trust professionals. And even though you’ve asked Rei on multiple occasions to cut it short, at least up to the middle of your back, she just wouldn’t, always saying that you’re being unreasonable. But you’re not; you’ve given her multiple valid reasons.

For example, Rei and Fuyumi do your hair themselves. And initially, they would let you choose whatever hairstyle you wanted, but now they pick one for you, saying they know which one will suit your outfit of the day better. Rei likes to do double buns, or ponytails tied with ribbons or just one high pony with a pretty big bow on the top of your head. Fuyumi on the other hand makes super intricate hairstyles, and while they look pretty, only you know how much pain your scalp is in. Fuyumi does your hair as if you’re her doll, yanking and twisting hard, saying that she needs to be this rough to achieve the distinctive braid patterns. Thankfully, Rei usually does your hair most of the time.

One of the main reasons you've begged Rei to let you cut your hair short is how much time she (and you) would safe. Since your hair is so long, it takes a lot of time for Rei to put in hair masks, serums, oils, etc. It takes even longer to wash and dry them out, and then style them as well. But she smiled oh so kindly, and told you that she doesn't mind. She looks forward to taking care of your hair, forcing you to sit between her legs for hours as she applies some expensive magic growth oil, ignoring how you didn't like this.

And even if your hair is curly naturally, like even 4C curly hair, Rei will have it straight as a stick in no time (don't bother telling her that you like it natural). But don't worry, its still quite voluminous.

Of course, Rei washes your hair herself, telling you that you’re simply not capable enough to manage it. (At least she lets you wash your body yourself.) And due to your hair being so long, it takes time to not only wash it, but also dry it. Rei will detangle using a wide tooth comb, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Then she’ll dry it with her cold breath, and if required, call Enji to dry your hair with his heat. You like it when Enji dries your hair, because he does it quickly and your hair becomes far smoother.

And its not just Rei and Fuyumi that are obsessed with your hair, the boys are just as fond of it as well. Enji likes to card his fingers through your hair while he’s working on some papers or listening to news, his warm hands always putting you to sleep in his lap. Its an adorable sight, gives him a sense of peace.

Shotou also likes to run his hands through your long hair, especially after a stressful day. The feeling of his fingers through your smooth, long locks, it calms him. And if he’s feeling extra stressed, then he might braid your hair loosely as well. He always wears a scrunchie on his wrist for you.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you enjoy it when Natsuo played with your hair. Its like he can sense when you're having a headache. He'll have you sit on the floor while he takes a seat on your bed, and then his fingers will do their magic. He knows exactly where to put pressure on your scalp, and exactly how much force to use. His massages always relieve your migraines, and he always massages with expertise to ensure their is proper blood flow in your scalp.

While you are more than happy to let Natsuo touch your hair, you hate it when Dabi's around. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants to rip your scalp off. He knows how much it annoys you, always pulling at your ponytails, tugging at your braids, even yanking it a few times when you ignore him. And you've complained to your family, but all of them say that "oh he's just playing around." Or "no, he just misses you. He's only teasing." And when you ask Dabi to stop it, he'll just smile and say "big brother privileges."

He's insufferable.

Everyone gets to play with your hair, but God forbid if you do. Oh no, apparently you'd "destroy it", as if you're not capable of managing your own hair. You're not allowed to open your ponytails because, quoting Rei, "you're yanking your hair. You're going to rip your follicles- baby, stop. Just let me do it." But you know that she does that because she wants to brush your hair with the soft, bristle brush before you go to bed. And somedays, Rei doesn't tie your hair in a bun or something, letting your hair fall, and it gets in your way, and even then you're still not allowed to put it up because "oh honey, your hair needs to breathe too. If you keep it in a pony, the band will leave a mark in it." Honestly, everyone finds it adorable when you're dressed in your little, fluffy skirt paired with a cozy oversized sweater, all mad and pouting, trying to blow the hair strands blocking your field of vision. Like a little baby.

While Rei looks at your hair and sees years of her hards work and patience, all you see is losing control over your own life. And you are. They decide everything for you, from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and even things you should like and dislike. They choose when you should go out, what you should watch, when its time for bed. They disregard your opinions and feelings, and if you show that you're frustrated, then its means that you're just throwing a "tantrum", and you need to be put to bed like some cranky child. You've told them that they're too overbearing, but they always say that they just love you.

What kind of love is controlling?

They're so lost in their delusions, that they don't even see the deteriorating effects it has on you mentally.

Actually, one person did see them. Dabi.

He saw how much everything was overwhelming you, how you were near tears when they talked over you, made choices for you.

He felt a bit bad for you, just a tad. Mostly, he felt there was another opportunity to mess with you.

When Dabi came to bother you one night, tugging at your hair again, this time a bit harder than usual, he saw you were ready to cry. You didn't even bother saying anything to him anymore, just kept quiet and did your best not to cry. Of course, now he ridiculed you. Called you a little crybaby and used that annoying patronising tone with you. And just as he was about to leave, he said "if your hair bothers you so much, why don't you just cut it, you big baby?"

As if something had finally snapped in you, you let his words echo. Why don't I cut it? What's stopping me?

Was it because you had learned to just give in?

You didn't even realise you had walked to your bathroom until you were holding a pair of scissors. Which surprised you, because you weren't allowed to use scissors unsupervised. It was almost as if a sign from the universe motivating you to do it, and definitely not Dabi who left them on the sink.

Holding the pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other, you hesitate for a second and wonder what will Rei do. But before you could stop yourself, you cut.

I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

You start low, maybe 2 inches above your hips. It looks okay, but maybe you could cut a little more. And a little more. And a little more. Before you know it, your hair is around shoulder length, in an uneven, chunky bob. Its not perfect, but somehow you feel much better. Like you’ve finally gotten some control back. Wiping your tears away, you ruffle your hair a bit, the cool air on your neck adding to the feeling of freedom. You feel normal, happier, peaceful. Things you haven't felt in years. And all because you had 3 am meltdown.

After you cleaned up the bathroom, you went back to bed, anxious how everyone will react in the morning. Maybe they won't care. You thought. Its only hair. My hair.

Everyone was waiting for you at breakfast the next morning, and to everyone’s surprise, Dabi had joined them as well. Rei was cooking up some eggs, while the kids chatted. Enji was suspicious of the mischievous glint in Dabi’s eyes, and it was filling him with unease. Just as he was about to question him, you walked in.

Everyone went silent.

Then Fuyumi let out an audible gasp, while Dabi chuckled darkly. Natsuo, Shotou and Enji looked at you with their mouths agape.

“Good morning.”you greeted them.

Rei, who was facing away from you, finally turned towards you. “Good mo-”Rei’s breath hitched, eyes blown wide, as the plate of bacon fell from her hands.

Its funny how everyone in the kitchen, including you, had the same thought at that moment.

What the fuck?

Taking a deep breath, you moved to sit in your usual spot between Fuyumi and Rei, but Shotou suddenly pulled you back and pushed you into the seat beside him. He knows his mother is in a better state mentally, but something tells him not to risk it. Fuyumi snapped next, quickly getting up and cleaning the mess on the floor while Enji pulled Rei, who was still staring at you in disbelief, to sit beside him. You remained indifferent to everyone’s stares, quietly eating your food. As soon as you were done, Shotou got up and quickly pulled you out of the room, Dabi following close behind.

They sat in your room as Shotou looked at your hair with worry. “Looking nice, doll.”Dabi chuckled as he plopped down on your bed beside you. “Thanks.” you mumbled. “Y/n how did- why did you- why did you cut your hair?” Shotou asked, still looking at your choppy hair. “Do you not like it?” you asked. “N-no I do. But what will mom say-” “Shotou, its my hair.” you snapped. “Yeah, Shotou.” Dabi mocked. Fuyumi and Natsuo soon joined you guys, worrisome looks on their faces. “Why did you cut it? Oh my god, do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” Fuyumi was freaking out. “Its my hair.” you rolled your eyes. They ignored you. “Okay, okay. Shotou why don't you stick around with Y/n for a couple of days? Fuyumi and dad will try to keep mom away from her.” Before Fuyumi could nod, you stood up. “No.”

Natsuo looked at you confused. “what do you mean “no”?”

“I mean no. I don't need Shotou to babysit me. I can handle myself.” Fuyumi walked towards you, reaching her hands for you but you backed away, “Y/n, sweetie-” You cut her off ,“Stop treating me like a child.”

Shotou spoke this time, “Its for your protection-” “Protection from who? Our mother? Why?”your words dared them to say the truth. To agree that Rei was unstable. They didn't say anything.

A few days had passed by and things were returning to normal. Almost normal. Rei still had this thousand yard stare when she looked at you, but she never said anything. Cutting your hair was the best decision you had made, because not is it only easy to manage, but it also got the family off your back. Rei doesn't wash your hair anymore(although you think she's just not over the shock), Fuyumi doesn't need to do your hair, they dry faster, and all of your brothers (including Dabi) doesn't mess around with them anymore. Enji was the first to adjust to your new cut, he even complimented you one day.

Did you feel guilty because you know how attached Rei was to your hair? A bit, but then realised that you needed this. You need some control over your life, and if this is how they react to your new cut, then maybe you could start taking back reigns over other aspects of your life as well.

You thought that maybe Rei had finally gotten over it a week later, when you were laying in the bathtub, enjoying the hot bath. When you heard her walk in, you were a bit startled. Why was she here- is she finally over it? "Um- hey." She smiled at you. "Why are you here?" She took the bath stool and sat behind the tub. "You know why." She replied and started rolling her sleeves up. Is she here to wash my hair? "Oh, are you here to wash my hair? I don't need help with that anymore now that they're short." Rei smiled again, this one looking forced, before dipping her hand in the tub. "No, silly." And with that, Rei froze the entire the tub in 2 seconds. The ice trapped your limbs, and reached up to your clavicle. The sudden change from hot to cold had you jolt, but you couldn't move due to the frozen ice. "Mom-!" You heard the buzzing sound of a trimmer and then felt Rei entangle her fingers in your hair to yank your head back. "I'm here to complete your haircut." You tried moving your head but her grip on your scalp was unrelenting. She started trimming the right side of your head, moving it slowly as to get every single hair. "Honestly, you should've come to me. I do agree that it'd be a good idea to start again." Tears fell from your eyes, your teeth chattered and you could feel your heart beat slow down as the cold seeped into your bones. "M-mom, I'm col-d. P-please s-stop..." Rei was done with one half of your head. "You know, I read somewhere that your grows thicker if you cut it. I'm sure that after I've shaved your head, your hair will grow even fuller. I've already gotten some new oils and hair masks! Maybe we could do them together." You couldn't hear anything besides the slowing of your own heart beating. Your breath had started to become shallow, you couldn't think about anything except for how painful ice could be. Your lips were turning blue, eyes were getting clouded with black spots, all sensation from your body was losing. Just before you lost consciousness, you heard the bathroom door open and a panicked yell.

You felt warm.

When you came to, your entire body felt warm and weighted, probably due to the heavy blanket spread on you.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. It was...your parents room. Why am I here? You turned your head to look around but your eyes stopped at the large figure sitting on a chair next to your bed.

"Dad?"

The figure's head snapped towards yours. "You're awake." He paused. "How- how are you feeling?" You moved the blanket off you, your body felt dense and ached. "Warm and...sore. What happened? Why am I in your bedroom?" Enji shifted in his seat. "I think its best if you stay here from now on, so that... your mother and I can look after you." Your eyes widened. "What? Why?" You moved to sit up but then a pain shot through your head. "Ah shit." You hissed in pain as you went to massage your temples but your hands halted at the feeling of your hair... or lack there of. You tried to run a finger through your choppy bob cut, but all you felt was your shaved head. Your eyes met Enji's, looking at him in disbelief as you recalled the events that had led up to this. "Darling-" You jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity mirror, praying that this is just a nightmare. But as you looked at your reflection, you realised that this was the terrifying reality you were living in.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you took in your appearance. Trimmed- no, shaved pink hair. You couldn't see a single bit of hair above the roots, only a baby pink scalp. She had not only trimmed your hair first but then also proceeded to shave your scalp off. Your head looked like it had peach fuzz.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not even when Enji placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n-" He didn't even what to say. He was still in shock from what would've happened if Fuyumi hadn't yelled for him when Rei was-

Enji shook his head. Now's not the time. You're here and you're fine. You're fine. Enji pulled you towards him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. "You're fine." He repeated, more to himself than to you. "Why- why would she do this?" Your voice was muffled by his chest but he understood. He understood your pain and it tore him apart that he still wouldn't be able to help you.

Enji honestly didn't know what to tell you. He didn't know what words would bring you comfort. "It... it was an accident." His chest rumbled as he spoke. You pushed yourself away from him as you looked at him perplexed.

"What?" Your eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and blood rushed to your face. You were going to blow up.

"An accident? Is that what you said? Oh okay. Was it an accident when she froze the fucking tub? Did the trimmer accidentally fall from her hands to my head?! Oh and did she accidentally pull the razor over my head?!" Angry tears fell from your eyes but you were far too enraged to care.

Enji opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Turning around you saw her.

Rei was standing there with a tray of food and water. Her face turned to shock before turning to happiness. She set the tray on a nearby table before she rushed towards you, her hands reaching for your face.

"Angel, you're awake-" you pushed her hands away roughly as you backed away from her.

"Dont you dare touch me."

The couple, they had never heard your voice such hostility. It wasn't like you. Rei shook her head as she tried to reach for you again, taking another step in your direction. But you smacked her hands away again. "I said don't touch me!" Your yelling had got your siblings to rush in the room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Rei's eyes shifted from you to Enji, looking at him for help, before they returned back to you. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/n, darling. What's wrong?" You scoffed at her soft tone that tried to quell the storm of negative emotions bubbling inside you. "What's wrong? What's wrong? I don't know, you tell me, Rei. Why the fuck am I bald?!" Your head was pounding with rage, raw unbridled anger.

When Rei didn't say anything, Fuyumi stepped forward to help her out. "Y/n its-"

"Shut up."

Fuyumi's- everyone's eyes widened. Of everyone, you never even rose your voice at your favourite sibling. But to hear your voice turn so cold towards her, it shocked everyone. "Y-Y/n-" she tried again but you cut her off. "I said shut up. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Rei and she'll answer for herself."

Enji placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. "Have some respect. She's your mother-" You yanked your shoulder away from his grip. "No, she's not!" You inhaled deeply, trying to stabilise your voice. "No, she's not. You're not my dad. I'm not a part of this family. And I'm so sick of playing this game."

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "Stop being an ungrateful brat. You've been given all the luxuries one could only imagine, spoiled to no end-" You laughed. "Did I ask for anything?" "You never had t-" "And all these luxuries that you're talking about, I didn't get them for free. I had to give up a lot. No, wait-" you laughed again, tears blurring your vision. "I didn't give up anything. You all took it. Yeah, all of you snatched everything away from me. My family, my friends, my privacy, my sanity, everything. And you-" you moved towards Rei, pointing a finger at her. "You have been the most greedy one of them all."

Rei's jaw fell open, as she shook her head. "No-" You shook your head.

"Yes! I gave you everything. I let you dress me up in those god awful clothes, feed me whatever you wanted, stick to your side like glue because you don't like it when I was out of your sight for a more than a few minutes. For fucks sake, I didn't even go to college this year because you weren't ready to see me become an adult!" You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. "I played into your sick little fantasy. I let you treat me like a child, talk to me like I'm some helpless baby. I let you touch me even though it disgusted me to no end. I never even complained when you gave me ice burns because I was throwing a tantrum." You looked at the rest of your family, and they were shocked to hear that last bit. You smiled cruelly at them. "Yeah, you didn't know that did you?"

Rei was crying herself by now, as she reached out for you once again but you moved away. "I let you have everything. All I wanted was this little bit of freedom, for my own sanity. But you couldn't stomach that could you?" Your head hung low, your tears hitting the floor.

"Why do you have to be so selfish?"

Your voice held so much pain and defeat. Rei couldn't help but engulf you in her arms, wrapping herself around you tightly before you could even protest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out. "I- I promise I'll fix this! Yes. I-I've already gotten you some new hair oils! They say that they'll help you grow 6 inches in a month! Oh and Natsuo also brought some stuff for hair growth! Some vitamins and- Natsuo whats that spray called? Minoxy? Mi-minoxidil! Yes! He said that'll help you grow your hair in no time! Doesn't that sound nice? You'll have long hair like before!" Rei pushed back to look at you. You couldn't believe it.

"Are you- are you really that delusional?" Your voice was so soft, almost like you would break any moment now. "Are you so blind to see what you're doing to me?" Your eyes held so much pain and confusion. "Sweetie, don't worry- mommy will take such good care-" You pushed Rei away from you, your anger rolling back in full speed. "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" You shrieked. "Y/n-" Shotou tried to interject. "I'm not a part of your fucking family."

Enji stepped towards you. "Calm down."

You looked at him. "You said that what happened was an accident. What will you do if another one happens? And you're not around this time to save me? Hmm? What will you do? Continue playing house with my dead body?!"

Rei's sobs shook her body. "Shut up. Think before you say stupid shit like that." Dabi spoke this time, moving to stand between you and his mother. "Or what? You're going to hurt me? More the reason why all of you, but especially you-" you pointed at Rei "deserve to be in that nuthouse-!"

You were on the floor before you could even process what had happened. Had you- had you fallen? But when the searing pain of the burn on your cheek came alive and you looked at his hand that had erupted in blue flames, you realised what had happened.

Dabi slapped you.

"Y/n!"

Your cheek felt like someone had placed a hot iron on it, the sting spreading to your entire cheek, but you were far too shocked to care about the pain.

Dabi slapped me.

Shotou, Natsuo and Fuyumi quickly rushed to your side, picking you up and out of the room, while Dabi stood there in stunned as his own hand throbbed. The image of his handprint branded on your scared face wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

Enji hesitated, looking at his wife and son in disbelief, before leaving the room to look for you.

Rei walked towards Dabi and smacked his arm. "What did you do?!" She yelled at him. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

"She's your little sister, Touya! W-why would you do that?!" Rei scolded him.

He hurt you. Like Enji hurt Rei.

He hurt you.

Rei sighed before closing her eyes and engulfing Dabi in her arms. "Its okay. Its not your fault." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Dabi wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck, before nodding.

"Yes. It was an accident."

So... how was it?

#yandere bnha #yandere dabi #yandere endeavor #yandere dabi x reader #yandere mha #yandere todoroki family #yandere todoroki clan #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #yandere natsuo todoroki #yandere fuyumi todoroki #yandere touya todoroki #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #platonic enji todoroki #yandere shoto todoroki

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

Introduction : three older brothers

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist} 𐐪𐑂 Summary : When Sapnap learns the news, some questions are resurfacing.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.1k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : none (for once lol)

Masterlist | Next

.・゜゜��　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

I’m coming to see you in Florida, your voice plays again and again like it’s some kind of song stuck in the back of Sapnap’s mind.

In the lull of the afternoon, a nest of merriment peaks in the crest of his chest and threatens to overflow, but honestly it’s more a promise than anything; bare feet stomping euphorically against the wooden floor without a hint of withhold and the humid air twirls around his fists as he punches a not so silent victory.

Fifteen years of friendship, two years of longing and four months until the world both crumbles and harmonizes again.

129 days until my best friend comes home, Sapnap processes ecstatic, acidic. Peonies hatch in the depth of his heart, where light shouldn’t reach but still does somehow.

The heel of his palm presses against the phone a little tighter, where your voice ringed high and low just minutes ago. He forgot to ask how long you were planning on staying with him and Dream. Somehow, he forgot how to think about anything else but the fact that, soon, late night texts and virtual calls are to be bad dream-ish flashes. But it’s so easy to put everything behind, so easy to dismiss when you’re about to appear in front of him, soft as a smile and real.

When the celebration falls breathless, Sapnap isn’t sure what to do with himself, throwing his body over the bed that bounces up and down and the movement is so swift he’s left tasting all fuzzy. He’s transported overseas, heart streaming over the sheets. They wrinkle and frame his body like a restless picture.

This could just be a dream, he reasons; he waited so long for you to say those words that, for all he knows, he might have been asleep all along. The threads of lights that escape the window fondle his hair and wash up two soft cheeks and, in an attempt to seal the wish, he closes his eyes and lets the sun flood the back of his eyelids.

What is printed there, between orange light and imaginary shapes, is an old memory that slowly unfolds; a brushed wound on your knee during one of those skateboarding afternoons.

Sapnap huffs. God, you used to love skateboarding so much it drove him crazy.

But it was, after all, his duty to carry you home. Like a princess, you said, eyes sparkling and smile so promising. He whined, complained the whole time about you being heavy, but it didn’t matter; what colored his skin was how important you gave him the opportunity to be. And the truth, although diluted, remains indelible to the passing time.

It’s funny, he recognizes, that the memory decided to collide with this very moment. Just as if a boiling impatience molded itself into a wave of memories. And when the nostalgia fades away, he imagines what it would be like if you were right in front of him; the shape of your eyes and the curve of your smile. Something old, something new, something blue, he thinks ironically, though it probably only makes sense to him.

“What the hell, Godzilla?” The door cracks open and welcomes a swirling breeze. Dream fakes the annoyance, but his tone betrays; boyish amusement. His silhouette intertwines with rays of lights and though his shadow elongates enough to hide Sapnap from the merciless sun of Florida, one glance at the man forces him to squint in order to not be completely blinded. Sapnap tunes into reality once again, heels sinking into the mattress.

“129 days,” he mumbles, willing to answer a question that hasn’t been freed yet, knowing it’s not too much of an answer yet everything he’s capable of for the moment given, still stuck into the ethereal.

“Cryptic,” Dream sighs. His scoff stops when he lies on the bed next to his friend, a small rattle falling out of his lips.

In the interlude, met by two green eyes and the chirping of the birds outside, he gives in, “I haven’t seen y/n in two years and now she’s coming back in 129 days.”

Dream’s head rises effortlessly, unimpressed, little birdie tells Sapnap he probably knew much before he did.

“Then why are you not as happy as you should be?”

“I’m not sure,” Sapnap shrugs. “I mean-- I am, but it’s weird. It’s like super long and super short at the same time.”

Dream’s hovering smile twitches slightly devious, slightly smirk-ish. “Maybe you’ll finally be able to tell her how you feel.”

Betrayal, he noticed the way his lashes flutter when your name is mentioned in a conversation, the way he secretly flusters every once in a while when the boundaries between what is and what could be are drawn too blurry. Sapnap’s eyebrows arch in a hypocritical confusion.

He gulps with a little bit of coyness, “It’s just not the right timing.”

“Things don’t always need to be complicated, you know.”

His jaw clenches in a sour agreement, but to be so desperately in love with his best friend, there is only room for difficulty.

It’s like magnets with the same polarity. Sometimes, too caught up by the pursuit of your own selves, sometimes kept apart by the fear of losing the most precious thing life has given the two of you. And if one second he thinks he could catch a glimpse of hope, too tangled with the force field to think, the next he never even dares to think about it.

“I’ve heard how you interact with each other, being all flirtie flirtie and stuff,” Dream notes high and daringly. The smirk blooms, Sapnap flinches.

“Right, as if. She also has three older brothers, you know? Kinda don’t want my ass to get beaten.”

“You’re being a giant baby.”

“You’re a giant baby,” Sapnap repeats to mock. “Shut up.”

And soon the air is filled with hands aiming to attack each other, weltering between a mound of sheets and choked out laughter. The introspection blows in the wind for a second before reappearing as easy.

Once Dream’s power has made its own point, Sapnap surrenders, “Fine. Oh my god, you’re so annoying. And if I tell her that I’m in love with her and she rejects me, what then?”

Heaving chests and remains of chuckle, the sun fades out for a moment to give them a rest.

“And if you tell her that you’re in love with her and she says ‘me too’, what then?”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa

A/N : I'm so happy to finally post something again I feel like it's been years lol!! Hope you guys appreciated the intro. it's a bit shorter but once again its just the intro and if you're used to the length of the sorcerer's chapters then this is gonna defo be a lot shorter. Anyway lmk what you think!! I think I'm going to publish one part every sunday but can't really promise anything. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap #sapnap smau #129 days #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #mcyt smau #mcyt x reader #smau #social media au #sapnap series #dsmp sapnap

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

Note

Cause we talked about it.. I now have to ask 😂

Anthony’s Kate in a hockey skirt incident and recreation? Could we see that for a spicy Sunday please 🥺

Thank you

Oh Boyyy

This seems like a good follow up to today's chapter because Anthony fondly remembered his first ever wank (bless him) aided by the visual provided to him in PE class, of Kate Sharma, in a hockey skirt, her Shirt tied in a little knot at her waist, the poor kid didn't know what to do.

And he certainly didn't like the look his Mum gave him the next day when he stood in the laundry hastily shoving his bedsheets into the washing machine, as if she new exactly why a teenage boy would be washing his sheets at 6am on a saturday morning

"Oh God!" Anthony's breath left his body as he looked across that the other PE class on the other half of the field, and spied something he'd probably never wanted to see. Kate Sharma, in a very short skirt, laughing with her friend, their lesson not yet begun, a hockey stick firmly in hand.

Anthony had been watching Kate since she'd arrived at school last year. No, he didn't like how that sounded, that made him sound like a stalker. But... maybe it was possible that he might have a little crush on Kate. And who could blame him. She was smart, far smarter than he was actually, already the top of their class, she was funny: every single time she walked past him she tossed a little quip his way her lips quirking in a smirk, and she was beautiful. So beautiful, it made his chest ache.

And now here she was, wearing an even shorter skirt than usual, her long legs shining in the sun, , a tiny bit of her midriff on display from her shirt, tied at her waist, and Anthony felt something deep inside him tighten, panic rising in his chest, Oh god, please no, not here. Oh christ, she was bending over. He was about to embarrass himself in front of the entire year, his shorts tightening and-

"Ow! Fuck!" A hockey ball collided with the side of his head, knocking him to the floor. And honestly he should have been furious at Simon who was grinning at him unashamedly, but as he went off to the nurses office he could only feel just a little thankful, even as Kate called out

"So I suppose we can rule you out of hockey tryouts next week hey Bridgerton?" As he passed.

Of course as he lay in bed that night, desperately trying to get to sleep, her face had flashed through his mind again, and then his eyes had slipped downwards, to the fact the buttons on her polo shirt hadn't been done up, and her midriff had been on display and her legs were so long and before he knew what was happening he was aching, his hand hesitantly touching at first and then bolder and bolder until he'd made an absolute mess of himself and his bedsheets, and he was certain he'd croaked out her name as it had happened.

This wasn't something Anthony was necessarily proud of, it also was definitely not the last time we'd wanked himself off thinking of Kate Sharma, both before and after they were together. But he'd never told Kate that she'd been the first, it just seemed embarrassing that it had happened so innocuously, she'd just been standing there, going on his her life and he'd practically been humping her leg like a randy dog.

So no, he didn't exactly want to tell her. But of course like everything he did.

"Tell meeeee." Kate said, straddling his chest one sunday morning, her eyes shining with amusement. "Oh my god, is it because it's really embarrassing?" She gasped, "Was it mrs. Danbury?"

Anthony nearly choked, he certainly wasn't going to let her think that! He sighed. "Do you happen to remember that day I got hit in the head with a hockey ball?"

Kate shook her head.

Anthony sighed, "Well when I was 14, I got hit in the head with a hockey ball, and i was distracted because you were further down the field... And I got a hard on."

Kate guffawed, her eyes widening with joy. "Oh my god."

Anthony sighed, "The night I couldn't stop thinking about the fact you hadn't done up the buttons on your polo shirt, and I could see your cleavage like a tiny bit, and you'd tied it up so I could see your midriff and your legs are really long okay? I couldn't help myself. And that was the first time I ever got off." He could feel his ears burning.

Kate was laughing brightly, "So I was standing still at School and that got you off?"

Anthony felt a little indignant, "You bent over actually as well, and you said you wouldn't laugh!"

Kate laughed.

He had almost forgotten about it, weeks later, when he walked through the front door, a little weary from his work day, and stopped dead. Because his very hot girlfriend was sitting at the breakfast bar in their small kitchen, her legs crossed, her eyebrow raised expectantly, and what she was wearing made him swallow convulsively. Kate was wearing a hockey uniform, her poloshirt tied at her waist, the skirt barely hitting her mid thigh and Anthony felt heat pool in his stomach as her dropped his backpack at his feet his hand moving up to run through his hair, nervously.

"Hey." It came out as a little huff as he stared at his teenage fantasy come to life. He felt like all the air had been sucked from the room, as Kate stood, her hips swishing towards him, Anthony swallowed again.

"Welcome home, Honey. " There was a smirk in her voice that told Anthony, as always, she knew exactly the power she wielded over him. "You've been working so hard recently, I thought you deserved a little treat."

Her lips were sucking at his neck before he could even respond, whatever he'd been planning to say cut off with a sharp whine, her hands tugging at his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders before tugging him by the belt towards their bedroom.

Anthony's feet felt clumsy as he followed, stumbling over himself, to get to her just like always. Kate let go when they reached the room, making a little show of settling herself on her side of the bed, the word Princess carved just above her head in his hand writing branding her, and he couldn't help but feel a sharp streak of smug possession that she was his in a way she'd never been anyone else's. That everyone had thought her so prim and proper at school... frigid Baz had said, and here she was, wearing a costume for him, putting on a show.

Anthony tore his shoes off, stripping down to his underwear in a flash, moving to straddle her, his hands already on her, wherever he could reach, aching to slither up her skirt and-

"Anthony, you can't touch there yet. You said you touched yourself. Show me."

Anthony let out a choked noise his head falling to her shoulder, nuzzling against her hair for a moment, his boxers already so tight, his hips bucking towards her.

"Where can i touch?" his voice was cracking, wrenched from his chest as he forced his head off her shoulder, groaning a little as he took in the mischievous look in her eyes.

She tugged his left hand from between her knees, sliding it up her shirt, his hand tightening instinctively. "Here seems nice, no?"

Anthony nodded, his shoulders already heaving as her lips went back to his neck, her teeth nipping, her tongue soothing her finger tips running along his stomach before threading in his hair, and it was too much. She was everywhere, all around him, and he needed some relief, his hand slipped into his boxers, groaning at his own touch, as his hips started thrusting into his hand, his eyes fluttering closed.

Kate tilted his chin towards her lightly, "Don't forget to look, Anthony."

He nodded eagerly, his breath coming in sharp gasps her voice hot in his ear.

"Was it this good the first time?"

Anthony shook his head, "Feeling you there is definitely better."

Kate's eyes had darkened, but her smirk was still in place. "How long did it take you?"

Anthony groaned, his hand tightening as her tongue brushed his ear. "Like... 35 seconds."

Kate chuckled, "Good to see you've improved your stamina. But Honey, the quicker you cum, the quicker i'll let you under the skirt."

Anthony could have died, he really could have, his hips moving even more quickly, Kate all around him, her name falling in a garbled mess from his lips, Kate Kate Kate Kate, you're so fucking hot, oh my god, I'm gonna- He exploded, his vision blinding white for a moment, covering them both in himself, his head dropping back against her shoulder. Her hands running soothingly through his hair as his breathing fought to even out.

And then his brain caught up to him. "Wait, where'd you get this?" He tugged at the skirt.

Kate looked a little guilty, "I stole Eddie's."

Anthony's mouth fell open, horrified. "Kate! I just came on your sister's school uniform."

Kate chuckled, "It's okay, she doesn't want it back. She seemed to realise I wanted it for nefarious purposes and told Mary she lost hers." her tongue clicked, "Are you too upset to crawl under the skirt?"

Anthony groaned sliding down her body, nudging her legs apart, "I don't think I could ever be too upset for that."

#good girls au #spicy sunday🌶#kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #molly's asks and answers

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creweemmaeec11 · 4 years

Text

The Gift of Panic Pt#2

First part

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

After a moment of silence, the villain finially spoke.

"The last birthday present I got..." they started in a quiet, almost whispered tone, "was a bomb..."

"What!?" the hero replied in shock.

"Someone I cared about... though it would be funny to open my present before me as a joke..." they took a deep breath, "they didn't..."

Their voice cracked before they trailed off, and the quickly wiped at their face, abruptly standing up, keeping their back to the hero.

"I don't even know..." the hero replied, trailing off as well. They didnt know what to say, how to respond, what to do. What could they?

"Its fine I just," the villain started, before taking a deep, recomposing breath, "Sorry, I've never told anyone about it,"

"No no, it's okay. God, I can't even imagine..."

"Its alright, I got my revenge in the end," the villain replied, turning back toward the hero.

"Really? How?"

The villain looked at them with a confused expression, before it shifted into an amused smirk, "For legal reasons, and because I don't want to prolong my time in here, I probably shouldn't tell you,"

The hero laughed, "fair point. For what it's worth, I'm glad you got justice, even if it probably isn't the kind of justice I'd agree with,"

"Really? You think I deserve justice?"

"Of course, I think everyone does," the hero said in confusion, as if that was obvious.

The villain huffed a half laugh, giving a small smile, "I need to remember who I'm talking to,"

Both their gazes fell back to the long discarded present on the floor.

"I can take it, if you'd like, but-"

"No no, it's okay, I... I cant believe the words 'I trust you' are coming out of my mouth but I at least trust you didnt gift me a bomb,"

"I don't know if I'm hurt or flattered,"

The villain laughed again, walking over to hesitantly pick up the gift. They turned back to face the hero, holding the box with both hands as they just stared at it.

"The question still remains..." they drawled, before looking up at the hero that was still sat on the bed, "Why would you get me a birthday present?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you get me a gift? Why would you do something like that? For me? I dont think I'm very... deserving of a gift. Especially from you. Unless whatever is in here is some form of mockery- I mean- I guess I shouldn't assume..."

Their eyes dimmed slightly, as if they realized the only thing that could be in the box was something mocking, a heros form of bragging that they had won.

"Okay now I'm definitely hurt,"

The villain looked back up at them.

"Your my friend, I realized your birthday was coming up, so I thought back on our previous conversations, and tried to get something I thought youd like," the hero replied, moving to sit it a more casual position, "There wasnt any more thought put into it then that,"

The villain was now staring at them with wide eyes.

They blinked, seemingly trying to process what they'd just heard.

"I... have questions..."

The hero smirked, tilting their head as a prompt to continue, amused at the normally silver tounged villain being thrown so off their game by something so simple.

"Friend?" The villain responded almost instantly.

"Oh I'm sorry, what would you call this? Marriage?"

"I'd call this me tolerating your visits, whenever you decide to drop by because you've nothing better to do,"

"Maybe at first, but I've seen the way you recently light up whenever I come in,"

"Then you've *recently* begun going blind. I'd suggest seeing an optometrist,"

The hero laughed, "also, for your information, I make time for these visits, I dont just swing by cuz 'I'm bored',"

The villain squinted at that, "You... make time... for me?"

"Yes, that's what friends do,"

"I am not your friend," the villain replied stubbornly.

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you let someone hug you? I have to have passed the friend mark by now,"

The villain blushed, realizing they *had* allowed the hero to hug them, and they couldnt remeber the last time anyone else had even tried, nevermind been *allowed*.

"this is a dysfunctional work relationship at best"

The hero snorted another laugh at that.

The villain glanced down at the box once more.

Finially they knelt down onto the floor, placing the box infront of them. The stared at it for a few seconds, hands shaking slightly as they hovered over it, before taking a deep breath and tearing the wrapping off.

It was a simple brown box with a lid.

The villain chuckled under their breath slightly at that.

"What?" The hero questioned, not seeing anything funny.

"No, sorry I just-, had a thought,"

The hero raised an eyebrow at them.

"I just thought how funny it would be if after all this it turned out to be empty, but that would be cruel, even for-"

Their sentence came to a halt as the lid came off and they saw what was inside.

Now their wasnt anything incredible inside, it wasnt like they had gotten a new iphone, but there was *many* things inside.

They looked up at the hero, mouth open slightly, not even attempting to hide their shock.

The hero just smiled.

Slowly, the villain began taking things out of the box. A book of puzzles, like crosswords and word searches, a small sketch book and a pack of markers to go with them. A small puzzle, showing the picture of a fox, which was the villains favourite animal. There was also a rubix cube that was already messed up, and a set of other small puzzles. At the bottom, there were two more boxes, one much bigger then the other.

The bigger box contained the Harry Potter book series. The second, contained a small device that looked like an airpod, along with earbuds.

It was fascinating for the hero to watch the villain open their gift. One would expect a villain to be clumsy, rushed, or aggressive, ripping into their present, but they were the opposite. They removed every item slowly, delicately, like it was a peice of glass that could break, examining it with the same gentleness before laying it down carefully beside them.

When they had opened the last item, they looked back up at the hero, completely flabbergasted, jaw on the floor and eyes wide.

The hero laughed quietly, "do you like it?"

"I..." the villain sat back onto their heels from where they were kneeling, looking over the items like they were unsure what to do now, "what..."

They blinked, gathering their thoughts, "how did you...? I mean what-"

They picked up the puzzle as they spoke.

"That's your favourite animal right? A fox? Now I wasnt sure what kind of fox but-"

"How?" The villain asked, almost breathlessly, looking back at the hero.

"How did I know that? You mentioned it, once. I was talking about being a cat or dog person, and you said youd always been a fox person, something about them being 'sly and underestimated, yet smart enough to know when to strike'" they recited, making quotations in the air.

The villains jaw hit the floor again.

"That was actually one of the first things you ever told me about yourself,"

"You bothered... to remeber that...?" they muttered under their breath.

"Yep. The rubix cube is because you bragged to me once you were good at puzzles and could do one, and I didn't believe you," the hero smirked, "still don't,"

The villain huffed a small laugh, before glancing over at the books.

"the puzzle book and sketch book are just something to do, I know markers arnt ideal, but obviously I wasnt allowed to give you any pencils or pens,"

The villain nodded in understanding.

"the books are because I was talking about game of thrones one day, and you said youd always preferred Harry Potter,"

The villain smiled, and shook their head at that, chuckling, "I've never actually read them, I just wanted to disagree with you," they joked.

They both laughed.

"What's this?" The villain asked, picking up the small device with the ear buds.

"Its a little mini portable radio. I didnt know what songs you liked, and obviously, I'm not allowed to give you anything with acsess to the internet, but at least now you can choose what station you want,"

The villain sat back again, looking over everything with the same stunned, almost lost expression.

"You... remebered all those little details... and here I thought I was doing a good job at not letting anything about myself slip..."

"Oh you have been, trying to figure out what to get you was near impossible, but I managed to remeber a couple little things youd mentioned,"

They picked up the rubix cube, playing with it aimlessly, "I... don't even know what to say..."

"Well, most people would say thankyou,"

The villain shook their head, "that dosent seem like enough. I... I cant even remeber the last time someone gave me a gift, nevermind one without strings attached, and esspecially nevermind one with actual thought put into it,"

"I get the feeling you need better friends," the hero joked, trying to keep the mood light.

"Yeah well, I guess I'm on the right track, I've already got one," they replied, but couldnt bring themselves to look at the hero while they did.

The hero in question was lit up like a christmas tree, heart swelling happily in their chest.

"I hate to cut this short, but don't have long today, I'm going to have to get going, I just wanted to make sure I got to swing by today," the hero said, looking at their watch.

"Oh! Yeah, of course, you -"

"Do not have 'more important' things to do, I simply have *other* things I need to do," the hero interrupted sternly, giving the villain, who blushed, a pointed look.

"yeah, that."

The villain stood up, standing awkwardly in the middle of all their gifts, watching the hero leave through the finger print locked cell door. They approached the switch to turn on the force field, when the villain stopped them.

"Oh, hey, wait!"

"What's up?" The hero asked.

Suddenly the villain tossed something through the bars with effortless perfect aim. The hero caught it, and this time it was their jaw that hit the floor.

It was a completed rubix cube.

They looked back at the villain in shock, who laughed, giving them a real, large, and although greatly amused, no less genuine smile. The first real, true smile they'd ever seen on the villain. They couldnt help but stare in awe for a moment.

"What..?" The villain asked after a moment.

The hero shook their head to snap them out of it, "sorry! It's just, that's the first time I think I've ever seen you actually smile,"

Instantly the smile vanished as the villain steeled their features, crossing their arms and shrugging, trying to ignore the blush on their face, "yeah well, that's cuz it dosent happen often, so,"

"I'm honored,"

"Shut up,"

The hero laughed, before looking at the cube in their hand again,"this is like, actually really impressive though, that was so fast!"

The villain shrugged again, "the 3 by 3 ones are easy, the 4 by 4 or 5 ones arnt that much more difficult, the 6 and 7 ones take me a while though, 8 is an actual challenge, and I dont think I've ever done above that before,"

The hero was still staring at them wide eyed.

The villain just chuckled and shrugged at them again, "I was an outcast kid, had alot of time on my hands. Anyway, get going,"

"Yeah, right," the hero replied, tossing the cube back before flicking on the force field. They began walking toward the door, before the villain spoke out to them one last time,

"By the way... thank you... really..."

The hero smiled, "your welcome," they replied, before disappearing out the door.

The next time they visited, they would make sure to bring a 9 by 9 rubix cube, and a fox calendar.

Third part

#heros and villains #heros #hero x villain #villains #snippet #writers on tumblr #writing

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fumingspice · 4 years

Text

andante

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Prompt: oK so how about like?? Delia x reader and they're both in love af but they think the other has no feelings for them so they're both tripping over themselves to make the other love them and then madison comes in and she's just like 'stop being dumb' and they finally realise how much the other loves them.

I’m sorry but my ed crept back in and im not horny enough to put more thought into writing so just ignore the massive time skip at “---”. enjoy, you strange people xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*(*❦ω❦)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall. And it goes back to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble...

Between Cordelia Goode's ears were pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Brown eyes were never really your favourite until you saw them on her. You knew yourself that somehow, over the years you got to know Cordelia; working with her, befriending her, carrying her home from the bar one night when she got far too drunk, letting her cry into your shoulder when her job became too real and she could feel her mother's words hanging over her head.

When you started falling for the woman with those beautiful brown eyes.

Somehow, her eyes were now your favourite colour.

Not brown- brown wasn't simply the word for the colour. Cordelia's eyes were the colour of aged whiskey. Sometimes they were the only two safe shots of tequila that you could see. Sometimes they were a beautiful milk chocolate dotted with exposed honeycomb. Once when she had asked you to help her decorate the garden for the Summer Equinox- she had given Zoe enough money to take the girls on a field trip for the day so she could give the girls a little party. You stood watching her in her denim shorts and her white button up. When she had stepped back and put her arm around you to admire both of your handy work you could have sworn her eyes were glowing like fresh magma.

Her hand lay on your waist a split second too long.

You had fallen in love with the Supreme.

"Yo, bitch!" Madison Montgomery's usual entrance phrase disturbed you from your imagination. You raised your brow and smirked.

"Yes, Madison?"

The blonde took her sunglasses off her face and closed them with a slight snap. "The girls want to know if you wanna come to play Pysch! with us," she said. Her lips were curled in what could almost be described as a friendly smile. You were one of the few honoured to know that under Madison's bitchy white girl facade there was actually a very sweet someone lurking under there.

You thought for a moment and put your pen down. "I won't be long- I just have to log these last few names and I'll be there," you tell her. Madison rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the pen lifted itself and wrote the last thirteen names within seconds. "You're done. Let's go, Y/N."

Madison didn't even give you a minute to say anything before she walked out of the room. "Come on, bitch. Don't make me use my powers!" she called from the hallway, finally motivating you to move.

The girls sat in a circle in Zoe's bedroom. Lights off. Candles lit.

Zoe, Queenie, Mallory, and Coco were indulged in their phones for the game. Madison turned to you and held up her phone to show you the question. "What is Zoe's deepest, darkest secret?" she read. "You gotta answer it and the person with the most votes wins. It lasts for ten rounds and it can be fucking hilarious."

Zoe's face was red with laughter at the answers. "She's not actually a witch- that's not even funny," she gasped through cackles. She then sobered slightly. "She likes to watch Danny Devito movies while masturbating and screaming 'I am a dirty man'."

Madison was the only one who chortled at that.

You joined the game and got your best answers ready in your head. "If Madison got arrested tomorrow what would it be for?"

Madison rolled her eyes and muttered something about knowing exactly what everyone was about to answer. You smirked slightly, sensing her slight apprehension.

Prostitution.

Murder. Third-degree.

Fucking up the brakes on a bus full of frat boys.

Public Nudity.

"Gosh, you're so original," she muttered, glaring right at Zoe, who just shrugged.

"It's the rules of the game, bitch. Go all in, don't get offended," she replied.

The game pinged for the next question.

"What is on Y/N's mind right now?"

Coco gave a loud "Ha!" and typed quickly, along with the other girls who were all typing as quickly as possible to get their answers in first.

A quiet knock came from the other side of the door and Cordelia poked her head around. "Sorry to interrupt, girls. Y/N, could I borrow you for a moment?" she asked, voice sweet and angelic. You bounced up as soon as she finished the sentence and obliged straight away. You were met with a sweet smile.

Madison flicked her brows. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, winking at Delia's slightly confused face. As you left, your phone pinged to announce the results just before you left the game.

Cordelia 🥵🥵🥵

Delia. I ship it <3

Getting knuckle deep finger fucked by the HWIC

French fries

You quickly shut off your phone screen before Cordelia could see.

"What's the matter, Delia?" You asked, practically skipping alongside her. There was a vibrant air of satisfaction between you.

Cordelia shook her head, her blonde hair bobbing with her movements. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go out.”

You felt your heart stop. “Go out?”

Cordelia looked hurt by the confusion on your face.

“Yes. Would you like to join me in the garden?”

“Oh,” you realised, slightly disappointed. “I would love to.”

---

"For the love of Hades. Right, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything because I have some understanding that lesbians are fucking useless because of the fear of appearing to be predatory because the media is an asshole,” Madison continued. “But I don’t really think any of us can eat at this table anymore without choking on the fucking sexual tension between the both of you.”

Cordelia looked shocked. “It’s not that-”

“I’m a fucking mindreader! You do get that I can fucking hear the things that you say in your head about what you want to do to Y/N? I’m one gutter minded bitch and not even I’m creative enough to come up with that shit while I’m eating my fucking apple turnover!”

You blushed hard and chuckled.

Madison’s neck snapped towards you. “Oh, and don’t getting me fucking started on you! Do you know how fucking unsanitary it would be to carry out your little fantasies of fucking Cordy on the kitchen counter? Not even for us but the amount of fucking crumbs that would work into your nooks and crannies would be like trying to spring clean Myrtle's fucking hair! "

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia chuckled nervously. Her face turning a shade of red. “I’m sure Y/N’s got plenty of better options.”

Madison dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. “God, you bitches are going to put fucking years on my skin.”

“Oh, give me a break, Madison.”

Cordelia stumbled foward slightly, having been tripped up by some unseeable force and sending her tumbling into you. Her hands lay against your chest for that split second too long once more.

Your lips parted for a moment and your breath hitched as you both watched Madison smirk and leave the room. It felt like your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You surroundings were unnoticable to you now; replaced by unidentifiable whirls of colour and light. Your hand rested flat on Cordelia’s cheek. It was different this time. Not the spark, that had been there every time you touched. It was the fact that you were both too slow to ignore the ignition that started in your chests.

You saw her eyebrows falter from their previously confident expression, like all of her preparation and barriers and walls had fallen down and she was too slow to replace them. Cordelia pursed her lips, presumably trying to figure out what she should say to you. Again, she was too slow as you inhaled sharply and thrust yourself forward to catch her lips.

Delia was quick to mould herself to the curves of your front, hands falling to the small of your back on a collision course as she backed you into the dining room table. You smoothed your hands over the contours of her jaw, her collar bones, breasts, hips like you were a master pianist playing a brilliant concerto. Her body was the only instrument you longed to play; her moans the only melody that you longed to draw from her.

As her lips glided across your own, everything came together like pieces into place. You thought back one of those late nights in the kitchen. The way Delia’s fingers had so enthusiastically laced through yours during the late night in the kitchen when you had both stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking about life. How the witch had turned the radio on and taken your hand while you danced to some song by REO Speedwagon. Twirling you through the night. “Can’t fight this feeling” was the song. Ironic, now that you thought about it. It seemed as though fighting her feelings was what she had been doing the entire time.

She twirled you around in the light of the dim television and the refrigerator when the songs were upbeat, even going as far as dipping you and pulling you up again. Bare thighs against your own in her shorts and oversized shirt. When the songs that were played were slower, she was more gentle. Until eventually you swayed in a slow two-step, your head against her chest, and hers against yours. The air was thick with something pure. Something untouched.

You had no idea why you ever just thought this was something two best friends did. More so, you had no idea why you didn’t lean back and dip into her lips and allow your souls to dance the waltz that they were so clearly destined for.

Cordelia’s thumb and finger lay on either side of your jaw as she continued to kiss you as if her soul depended on it. Her fingers interlocked with yours against the table.

She broke away, tears had fallen down her cheeks and made your heart melt. “Oh-ho,” you chuckled, mouth agape at her sight. “Why the tears, my love?”

Cordelia laughed, wiping away her tears. “I’ve longed to do that for so long,” she replied. “So, so long.”

You chuckled at her sweetness and the display of pure love that you were so unaccustomed to.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N. I don’t think I will ever stop falling in love with you. You’ve created this storm of beautiful chaos in me,” she continued. “Do you remember that night where I was really sleepy, so you let me just stay in your room? How I had fallen asleep on top of you by accident and you wrapped your arms around me and hummed a lullaby?”

You nodded, remember the feeling of waking up with the Supreme in your arms.

“I was wide awake,” she told you. A delicate smile arose.

You chuckled into her touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you replied, drawing her closer, her blonde hair twirled in your fingers. “I know you were.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #lana winters #lana winters x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Close

John Constantine x Original Female Character, Angst/Hurt Comfort

A/N: So this little bit of self-indulgence turned into a thing, because it's me and of course it did. I'm still in the early stages of developing Evie and her relationships, so please let me know what you think.

Warning: Mentions of child neglect, lots of crying

Summary: After an emotionally draining day, Evie finds herself with some unexpected company.

Word Count: 2.6K

The Waverider was completely silent, a rarity on the best of days, and a blessed relief to Evie.

She sat in the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea in her hands. She hadn't taken a single sip in the fifteen minutes since she made it.

All the emotions of the day were simmering to the surface. A tightness clung to her throat making it hard for her to breath. She needed to cry. She needed to sleep. She needed to scream. She needed so many things, all she could do was sit and stare into nothing.

"Are you ever going to drink that?"

Evie blinked. Looking up, she finally noticed John leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and tie.

"John? What time is it? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She wanted to say something smart. On any other day she might have, but she was just too tired to be clever. Instead, she raised her mug to her lips and finally took a sip.

It was warm and did its job, loosening the lump in her throat, but it did little to help with the one in her chest.

"Need something stronger?" John suggested.

She shook her head. "This is about as strong as I can handle right now."

"Fair enough."

She expected that to be the end of it. But he surprised her, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a drink.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, misery loves company."

"And what have you got to be miserable about?"

He gave her a cynical smile. "Oh don't you worry love, I’ll think of something."

He took a seat beside her and raised his glass in a toast.

Evie obliged, clicking her mug against the tumbler before drinking.

They sat in silence for a moment. It was comfortable, but there were questions hanging in the air that needed to be addressed.

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I told you."

She shot him a skeptical look.

He let out a sigh. "I don't sleep most nights. I saw you in here and..." He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I saw the look on your face when you saw your mum."

The tightness came back in her throat. Quickly, she turned back to her tea and took a long swig. All it did was stall the inevitable.

"How much did Michael tell you?" she asked, with a twist in her stomach.

"Not much," he admitted. "Just that his dad died before he knew him, didn't talk to his mum and that his sister was about the only parent he ever really had."

Evie huffed out a short laugh. It certainly sounded like the description Michael would give, and a more accurate one than she was willing to admit before.

"I take it there's a bit more to it than that," he continued.

She nodded. "Just a bit."

She took a drink, once again assuming a natural end to the conversation.

"You're just going to leave me with that?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"You seem to know most everything about me, whether I like it or not,” he answered, casually. “I like to work on an even playing field."

Evie considered him for a moment. It seemed like a reasonable answer. Still she couldn't help but feel her problems were childish compared to his. There was a reason she kept them to herself. Nobody actually wanted to know.

She turned her head away, her fingers rubbing absentmindedly against the mug. If she kept her mouth shut for just a few moments, he'd forget the whole thing.

She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. Her grip tightened. She willed herself to breathe.

"Evelyn..."

She stopped.

Looking down, she finally noticed rough fingers pressed gently around her wrist. She followed the line connecting the fingers to a hand, then to an arm, moving her gaze ever up until she dared a glance at the man they were attached to.

John’s expression was not soft, but his eyes held something she had not seen in a long time; a need to understand. How could she say no to that?

“My dad died when I was eight,” she began, swallowing the roughness of her voice. “My mum took it really hard. She might as well have been dead that first year. I’m not sure she even left her bed. Gran watched after her and didn’t want me or Michael causing trouble.

“Eventually though Mum was able to leave the house and Gran even got her a job at a pub not far from where we lived. But, it didn’t last long. Mum just...wasn’t there anymore. She’d forget to go into work or mess up orders or any number of other things until eventually they had to let her go. She didn’t work after that. Dad’s life insurance kept us afloat and Gran helped so, it wasn’t like we were starving. Even so, she would still...forget. By the time I was ten I was cooking most of the meals and made sure to stop by the shop on my way home from school, that sort of thing. And Mum would just...drift. It was like living with a ghost.”

Evie paused, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I can remember my dad, before he died. I can see his face. I remember bedtime stories and how he called me his little Evie Rose. But, for whatever reason, any time I try to remember what my mum was like, I draw a blank. Every memory I have of her is as this...corpse. It was easy for me to believe she was always like that. I convinced myself she couldn’t help it. She didn’t choose not to be there. She was trying and I just needed to pick up where she couldn’t. That was my job.”

Her throat tightened. She sucked in a breath and let it out with a slow quaver.

“But seeing her today, before...everything. She was real. She was real and alive and...there.”

Warm tears spilled down her face. She wiped them away, trying and failing to keep them in check.

“I know grief affects people differently. I know it does. I can’t imagine losing the love of my life like that. But I was her child. Michael was just three years old. We were alive and scared and confused, and we needed her. I needed my Mom and she wouldn’t…”

There was no stopping the tears now. Anger and resentment and grief twenty six years in the making poured out of her. It burned her skin, even if she tried to hide it, ever aware of the man watching her in careful silence.

“I spent so long telling myself it wasn’t her fault. I blamed myself for not doing better by her. But she never cared. I know she was grieving, but at some point she decided her grief was more important than her own children.”

She stopped, forcing herself to fill her lungs with much needed air.

“And I would get so angry. I used to think Michael was just being selfish, that he only cared about himself. But he knew. He knew what she was doing was wrong. He just wanted me to see it too. God, I said so many awful things.”

Guilt weighed in her stomach as she pushed away her straggling tears. She could still feel the prickling behind her eyes, but she didn’t want to spill any more than she had. She had no right to them.

“I’m just a horrible mess of a person.”

A scoff came at her side.

She turned, to see John shaking his head.

“Something funny?”

“Aye, everything,” he said, sardonically. “Trust a Catholic to come to that conclusion.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon Evie, you’re not a horrible anything. You looked after your brother and your mum when no one else would. When you should have given up on her is a matter for yourself to deal with, but you’re not a bad person for holding out hope. As for Michael, I have a feeling he’s not as resentful as you think he is. Besides, he definitely had some of it coming.”

Evie couldn’t think of what to say, but the corner of her lip did quirk up, just a little. Still, guilt lingered and exhaustion was now taking the place of her anger. The prickling was back, reminding her of the tears still left to shed.

“Now, how about that drink,” John said.

Evie let out a long sigh, rubbing her hand across her face. "Not a bad idea. Honestly, what I could really go for is someone to just hold me for two or three...hours." She tried to make it sound like a joke, but the strain on her voice made her attempt at laughter come off as forced and awkward.

The look on John's face only made her feel worse. He had been uncharacteristically kind to her already. Now, she just made an embarrassing situation down right uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I laid this all on you,” she said. “I should just go to bed.”

She stood quickly, not even bothering to grab her mug as she headed towards the exit.

She barely made it two steps when a hand grasped at her own.

“Wait.”

She turned.

He was still sitting. His eyes focused on their intertwined fingers. The expression on his face was unreadable. For a moment, she thought he’d let go and forget the whole thing. But then, he came to a decision.

Standing, he took a step toward her, never dropping his grip for a moment. He watched her, carefully checking she had no objections to how close he was.

Her stillness was his answer.

Reaching out his free hand, he cradled her head and guided her to him.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to do.

His hand slipped from hers, but found no place to land, as if he wasn't sure where exactly to touch her. All the same, the intent was felt.

Taking initiative, she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.

His clothes still held the scent of detergent with just a bit the tobacco smoke she secretly loved. She let herself breathe it in, enjoying the warmth against her cheek and the firmness of his body.

Slowly his hands found purpose. One wrapped tight around her waist while the other curled gently in her hair.

For a while, they just stood there, neither of them daring to break the quiet calm that had settled in the air.

"It's alright Eves," John whispered into her ear. "I've got you, love. It's alright."

It was only then Evie realized she was crying again. The tears and emotions leaked out of her, spilling over the side like an over filled sink. She was starting to shake, trying and failing to keep her breath in check all the while John held on, pressing her even closer into him.

"You're alright," he promised. "I've got you, Eves. You're alright."

The tears weren’t as violent as before. This was catharsis. The last breath of emotional release she needed. So, she let herself feel.

She cried for her brother. She cried for her father. She cried for what might have been and what was. All of it came out in gentle sobs made bearable by the man who wouldn’t let go.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but after a while she had nothing more to give. Her breath returned to something manageable. Her heart, no longer quiet as heavy. Still, she couldn’t pull away from John just yet. She was too tired and he felt too good. She could see herself closing her eyes and staying right there until her legs gave out.

“Not that I’ve got anywhere to be,” he said, gently. “But were you serious about the two to three hours thing?”

She laughed, a real one this time; short, but bright and welcome.

“No,” she assured. “I wouldn’t do that to your reputation.”

He didn’t say anything back, but she took the hint.

With a great effort, she pulled herself from him, leaving her skin colder for it. Now that she had a proper view, a sudden spike of embarrassment shot through her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, immediately reaching to brush away the obvious stain on his shirt.

John looked down as if just noticing himself.

“Oh believe me, I’ve been covered in worse. Besides, holy woman’s oughta be good for something.”

“I’m not that holy,” she said, with not as much annoyance as that sentence usually carried.

“But you are good,” he countered. “You can’t be anything else.”

Again, something was missing from this usual exchange. The irony had somehow disappeared. The way he was looking at her now, she could believe he meant them.

Then, something happened. His expression became pensive. His eyes shifted away as he took a small step back, putting some visible distance between them.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his tone now back to its usual guarded self.

Her brow creased in confusion. “You sure you don’t want company?”

“I think if this whole exercise has taught us anything it’s that you need to stop worrying about other people all the time.”

His tone was curt, but there was something performative in it, making it land awkwardly on its intended audience.

All the same, Evie knew rejection when she heard it and felt the intended hurt in her chest.

Apparently it showed on her face as John gave a long sigh. “Look just, get some rest and you can worry about me tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet. She didn’t know what she had done to make John’s mood shift so abruptly, but she needed to fix it. He had helped her, after all. It didn’t feel right to end the night like this.

With cautious determination, she took a step forward, effectively closing the gap he had created.

John appeared frozen in place, his brow creased in confusion.

Taking the opportunity, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She was met with rough stubble and the smell of whiskey, a combination she was surprised to find she liked. But couldn’t appreciate it as John turned his head, meeting her eyes.

“Now, why would you do something like that?”

Evie swallowed, a sudden dryness coming to her throat. His lips were much closer to hers than she anticipated.

“I just wanted to say, thank you,” she said, softly. “You’re a good man, John Constantine.”

He looked down at her, his throat and lip tightening as he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

She smiled knowingly. “Yes you are.”

She kissed his cheek again, this time lingering just a moment as if touch would convey the truth of her statement more than her words could.

“Goodnight, John,” she whispered.

To her surprise, he didn’t push her away. His eyes lingered, floating between her eyes and lips and back again.

She held her breath, wondering if he would lean down and feel her lips for himself. She wondered if she would let him.

But he hesitated. A breath was drawn in and his gaze settled on her eyes.

“Sweet dreams, Evie.”

She nodded, feeling the moment slip away as quickly as it had come.

She settled back down on two solid feet, turned and walked back to her room without looking back. Only when the door closed did she allow herself to linger on the burning of her lips and the hard thumping in her chest.

She didn’t know what truly happened between her and John, but there was no use denying it. Something was different and time would only tell what that meant.

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow oc #arrowverse #arrowverse oc #john constantine #john constantine x oc #john constantine x reader #evelyn doyle

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Perfect | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Who Is the Perfect man for (f/n)?

-Something Corny, and sweet.

Word Count: 2826

Perfect

He found it impossible to compete with his closest friend, not just because it was morally wrong to try and get the same girl, but because all in all, he had no chances with her, and he was well aware.

'Because even if I'm wrong,' He started, '...Even if it's not Steve... then I'd still be the last person in the world you’d ever look at,' He silently declared, truly believing it.

'You could always do so...so much better than me,' He thought with dejection.

'I know it...but even then, I'm willing to make a fool of myself.

I want to let you know because it's getting harder and harder to just sit back,'

"(f/n)" He said while following up with a harsh swallow,

"I'm not perfect like Steve," Bucky started, "...I’m not someone who’s loved by everyone, and looked up by just about every child on the damn planet," he confessed, and at his sudden outburst she let out a surprised peep, turning to him with wide eyes,

“Wha-”

" And I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm not him!" He cried out. " But I wish I was..." he added, knowing just how much the woman idolized the other man.

"I really wish I were." He added with a short mutter.

(f/n) eyed his pain-stricken face with concern, because there was an obvious shine of heartbreak in his steel-colored eyes, causing a hitch in her breath, her heart stopped by the sight before it tore in two, further breaking as she saw his expression grow even more with anguish and melancholy as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

- This was the endgame, the all or nothing for him,

"In Fact, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and I know that." he continued on, a dry laugh tailing the words because he found it almost amusing how little he was in comparison to the perfect blonde.

‘When I stand next to him… I can’t help but feel like I’m less.’

"- I know what I am," he added, trying his best to let his wavering smile last.

He wanted to at least look brave, to look like a real man and not the groveling mess he really was as he forced out the words, battling rough the pain that threatened to take over.

Her (e/c) colored eyes went wide as he said that, and she immediately rushed to his side, " No Bucky, please don't start with that, you're a good person!" she said with a certainty that almost convinced him.

Like many times before, she rushed to his side, both Metaphorically and in literal actions, trying her best to assure him, and it was yet another reason why he cherished her so much.

"It can't be true if I don't believe it," She said stubbornly, throwing him a glowing grin as she said the words, the expression brightening even more as he looked at her dumbfounded,

"What does that even mean?" He asked her, a little chuckle leaving him.

"Just what I said," She went on, " It can't be true if I don't accept it," She reiterated.

He let the words settle in, and it wasn’t long before eye understood, by then offering her a tired, little smirk as he shook his head, "So, it’s just that easy?" He asked her, the moronic simplicity of it amusing him.

"For me it is," she told him, "For me, it's easy to accept that you're not a monster. It's easy for me to believe it, and even if you keep telling me otherwise, Buck...It won't change the way I see you," She explained,

"So just think of it that way, that, even if the entire world believes it, you included, there's not a damn thing in the world that will let me fall into the same train of thought.

As long as I'm kicking there's doubt,

And as long as there is doubt, it can't be accepted as truth," She spelled out, the certainty she displayed showing to be unwavering.

‘Only you...’ He thought with disbelief,

“You really are something else,” He muttered, the little grumble rousing a little giggle.

She was the anchor to his unsteady boat and all the while the kindness she showed him made him fall harder under her spell, giving him more excuses to come closer to her, it also scathed him, because he knew that she only saw him as the pathetic mess in need of care.

And he wanted much more than that.

He shook his head and took advantage of the closeness of their bodies by taking hold of her, his hands at her upper arms,

"- (F/n)," He started, mauling over how it had taken him months to find the perfect moment, the instant where he'd risk everything.

‘This is it,’ He told himself.

"You don't need to coddle me like that," he said with a soft sound of amusement escaping his nose. Afterward, he then took a deep, slow breath through his parted lips, before he tightened his hold by only a small degree, careful to not hurt her with his metal arm.

"Look... I can't be him, and I'm sorry," He said softly, truly sounding regretful for something he had no control over.

"I can't be Steve, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could stand in his shoes for just an instant, and feel what it's like to have you see me with anything but pity.” He revealed, “ Because then...(F/n) you’d see me in the way I really want you to look at me as...as a man." he confessed.

‘I don’t want you to feel bad for me anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be swallowed up by the same pity myself,’ He thought to himself.

" Look, I'm not as smart as Banner, because I still struggle with the technology of today and I know it'll get annoying," he said trailing off, not finding a single strong point he held in the field, "But I'll try... I really will," he swore.

At the confession, a small smile made its way onto her features, because he was right, he was a helpless mess when it came to the more modern things, but, to her, it was adorable.

She found it cute, and just another reason to stay by him a bit longer.

Watching him fiddle with his phone with that adorable, little face of confusion he gave her was all the more reason to sit closer to him, taking hold of his hand within hers to lead his finger across the screen and navigate through all its apps and features.

" I'm not wealthy like Stark… in fact, I could never have that much money and spoil you as much as he could." He told her, " I know some women like fancy jewelry and nice expensive dinners, but the most I can do for you now is a small bouquet of ( favorite flowers)...because I know how much you like them," He said softly, having noticed how much she stopped by to visit the little patch of them as they took small walks.

"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile, " I know it gets annoying," She said while petting the small petal, " But I really like these flowers," She said while gazing at the blossom,

" They're my favorite," She told him, having to only mention it once for him to remember, ingraining it in his brain that if he ever got her flowers they'd be the ones she loves most.

' I know everything about you,' he thought with fondness. ' Because...Because I always remember everything you have to say...I cling to every word because I know that sometimes you think you’re not heard.'

"I remember every bit of you, down to the stupid little faces you want me to forget," he said making her hold back a small chuckle as she glanced away, turning pink at the mention.

"I'm not a prince like Thor.. or ...even a God..." he continued on, speaking with just abit more lightheartedness while gazing at the sweet expression she wore.

"I'm not funny like Clint since you seem to love his jokes so much...for whatever reason," he said with furrowed brows, seemingly stumped on that one because Clint Barton’s humor was just simple, stupid puns that made everyone else roll their eyes.

"And don't get me started on Sam..." He muttered, detesting how easily the two flowed with each other, all to the point they seemed to share a single, working brain cell, and it only made the older man wish he had the same ability to just work with her without the awkwardness and fear.

‘But I just get so nervous...’ he lamented, ‘ I just end up overthinking it all, and it’s because you have this effect on me,

In fact, it’s a miracle I’m even getting through this now,’

(f/n) shook her head at him, because Bucky didn't need to tell her jokes to smile, and they didn't need to make stupid banter either.

she didn't need to find a reason to smile with him, because, she just did, naturally.

- It was like second nature while at his side.

"I'm not as charming as that Loki guy.

I see the way you smile at the sound of his voice and I'd be lying if I said I really didn't wish mine sounded like his," He said with a dry chuckle, knowing he grew especially jealous when the other man purposely pronounced certain words for her, just to make her giggle, living for the attention he received.

'Oh...Bucky,' (f/n) thought while shaking her head, because, truth be told, the sound of his voice was much more her taste. She loved the sound of it from when it goes higher with joy, or mellows down in serenity, and even when it trembles as he tells her his worries.

‘I don’t think you realize how expressive you’ve become,’ She mused, ‘ Oh Buck, I could go on forever listening to you instead.' She thought to herself. 'I'd love nothing more than to hear you every morning, and not just outside my door.

I mean first thing...right as I wake up.

And then...afterwards, fall asleep to your murmurs.' she inwardly spoke with the same bashful expression that had yet to cease,

'Bucky...' She thought with a soft smile. 'You’re such an idiot.'

"- I'm just not... not him. I'm not any of these men.

I don't have anything to offer you...

Not a single thing to my name that can bring you pride, " he admitted while looking down at his hands, both gloved limbs because he detested looking down at what actually lay beneath the piece of clothing.

"My arm is like a spoon on a stove on most summer days and a block of ice on winter ones.

So, I could never give you a fully warm touch, one that’s comforting and that I know you deserve." He said softly, having gone over the thought so many times that it haunted him.

"I'm not perfect..." he said dejectedly, saying so in a way that seemed as though it was meant for himself to remind him of just who he was before he got his hopes up too far.

‘What am I even doing...?’ He asked himself, his shoulders slowly falling as he weighed in the facts.

‘Oh...I'm not either Bucky,' She thought while feeling her heart race.

What he believed to be perfection was all misguided, because All the details and traits he wanted to have were things he didn’t need.

"I know I'm not.

I'm at the point where I'm still struggling to remember who am...and much more, somehow make up for all the wrong I’ve done.

(f/n) , I'm Still struggling to accept what I've done...which is a lot." He confessed, sighing deeply. " I've done so much wrong that I don't ever think ill be able to atone for my wrongdoings.

In short, I could give you a list of the many things wrong with me, and it'd run for miles, but there is one thing that I know is right,

And...And it's that I love you." He said while finally uttering the three words he's wanted to tell her for ages now.

"I love you so much (f/n), it hurts right here when I'm not with you, " He admitted, clutching his chest, placing his palm right above his bouncing heart.

Taking her hands in his he lifted them to his lips, offering her a tender kiss to each Knuckle, and all the while she stood watching, still stunned by his confession.

"Doll, you make my heart race like crazy!" he said with astonishment, peering down at her with glowing eyes.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm back where I was when everything was simple and good, and for those moments, I feel fully human.

Yeah, There are times when my brain goes haywire, and I get stupidly tongue tied, but, when I’m not rendered stupid, with you...everything feels right.

And just looking at you does that to me!" he said cocooning her hands in his.

"You give me nostalgia of good times and make me forget I'm a mess, and that's all I want now, to feel like a regular guy and...maybe, settle down.” He revealed, letting her know what she inspired in him.

‘A family? For me?’ He asked himself, ‘ You make me think of building an actual future,’

“-I know one thing for certain and ...and It's that whatever I become after this will revolve around you,

Always.

Because you're the center of my universe (f/n).

I didn't want to force you into loving me, to pity you into accepting me, that's why I've been silent, but I also can't keep this to myself anymore, because I feel like it’s slowly killing me," He said while tightening his hold on her.

“Keeping this from you is torture,” He added." If I lose you because I was too afraid to take the risk I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know that even if everyone else in the world has a better shot than me...Even if they're all better in every way, no one else can love you the way I do,” He told her.

“And you deserve to be given the world, if not the entire universe!

(F/n) , I'm asking for the chance, The chance to try and hand it to you, " he pleaded. "That's all I need, it's all I need to prove myself. I'll try my best to make you happy and treat you like a prince- no like a queen. " He went on, rambling and unwinding everything he'd kept silent.

Her (e/c) eyes were wide and her brows rose as high as they could, shaking like a leaf in his hands, and seeing that he felt anxious,

"Don't be afraid of me, please. You can even say no if you want, just don't leave me.

Even if you don't want me as a man, I still want to be able to see you, I still want to be a part of your life, no matter how meaningless it is, because I just want to make you happy."

His eyes then met hers, and in that one glance, his heart exploded into little bits and pieces.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, but beneath that, they twinkled with the glee. They sparkled like they never had before and he couldn't help but stare at the woman, becoming dumbstruck.

" You took all this time to list the things you're not Bucky..." she replied, finally speaking, finding her voice. " but you forgot to mention everything that makes me want you instead," She told him.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him, unashamed at coming closer.

Without skipping a beat he lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Spinning her around he smiled,

"Doll... I'll make you happy, I promise...I'll find a reason to make you smile every single day." He swore, heading down for a kiss he'd craved.

Through her response she smiled, kissing him back with the same yearning, thinking of no one else but the man that held her so dearly,

“I love you too,” She said back, the words filling him with even more joy because while he wasn’t in any way near faultless, she loved him.

‘I’m not perfect either,’ She mused, ‘But you think I’m worth being handed the entire world and more,’ She went on, truly touched by his declarations,

In spite of his every insecurity and doubt, she saw him as her own perfection, finding it amusing because all the while, she’d been afraid to take the step closer,

“I couldn’t ask for better,” She breathed,

“I couldn’t love anyone else,”

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kaaytea · 4 years

Note

I just stumbled onto your account and omg,,

Sis- your writing is so cute and funny!!

I absolutely love it ahhhh,,

And i saw you're a daiya fan Ψ(ﾟ∀ﾟ )Ψ

if it's possible,, may i request some miyuki x reader? where they play catch together hehehehe

I hope you don't mind! 👉🏻👈🏻💛

[ oh and! who's your fave chara 👁️👁️ ]

Oh! Welcome to the little blog family anon :D!! Ahh I'm so happy you like the blog, I've been having a lot of fun with it so far!

Yay more daiya fans! I've fallen in love with the show and was a bit sad to see there wasn't a lot of content for it. Oh boy uh, favorite character? That's really difficult....... Miyuki was the first character that really caught my attention so Ig it's him? I also have a soft spot for Ryo, Haruichi, and Kawakami (and like the rest of the team + 3rd years....it's really hard to pick bc I love them all for different reasons😅)

Also bc I love Miyooks so much I went a tiny bit over board with this, I hope it's what you wanted if not I'd be happy to do another version thank you for the request 💖

Catch with Miyuki

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

Miyuki taught you how to catch and throw a ball when you first started dating he probably planned this out for your 2nd or 3rd date. Baseball is a HUGE part of his life and he wanted to share this side of him with you

He borrowed a glove from one of the equipment sheds and then dragged you out to the field

He was really gentle and careful not to throw too hard boy has a stRonG shoulder and usually throws pretty hard

100% laughs at you if you miss or drop the ball and have to chase after it

Miyuki didn't really expect playing catch together to become a consistent thing but you both had so much fun that you play at least once a week now

In an odd way playing catch with you was kind of relaxing for him; he didn't have to worry about thinking up plays or reading batters, he could just enjoy your presence and have fun

The more you played with him the better you got a catching and throwing. You really surprised him one night when you threw him the ball and it had a LOT more force behind it. He was very proud and rewarded you with a kiss 😌

Side note: if you ever went behind his back and got one of the teams pitchers to show you how to pitch he would go absolutely WiLd. A battery is such a special relationship between players and the fact that you took the time to learn the basics for him?

He gets this insanely warm feeling in his chest and that’s the moment where everything clicks for him and he goes "oh my God I'm in love with them."

He would help you perfect your pitching style and you both end up learning a lot about each other

Anyways 😗

Miyuki had a rOugh week; exams were just around the corner and the team was having longer practices to prep for an up and coming game

In short he was tired, stressed, a bit hungry, and definitely going to explode if Sawamura or Furuya ask him to catch for them one more time -good gOd don't those kids have any other hobbies?!

So when he opened his door to see you standing there, baseball and glove in hand, with a wary smile on your face he was really considering marrying you right then and there

How did you just know he needed a distraction right now?

Miyuki grabbed his glove and walked down to a quiet portion of the fields with you

You passed the ball back and forth in silence, you could tell Miyuki's mind started to drift as he started to throw harder

He threw, what he considered, a pretty soft throw but you not being a baseball player dropped the ball with a hiss of pain the second it came in contact with your glove

He rushed over to you, slipping off his mitt and tossing it to the ground as he jogged over

Miyuki gingerly slipped off your glove and started to inspect your hand, gently pressing and moving it to see if you reacted in pain

"None of this hurts right?"

"No, it just stung a little when I caught the ball I think I'll be fine"

"that's good.....I'm sorry I didn't mean to throw that hard"

"Are you okay Kazuya? You've been out of it all day"

He looked up at you and blinked a few times, Miyuki still wasn't used to expressing his fears and stress to people, especially with the person who held his heart in their hands

But when he looked into your eyes and saw the genuine worry they held, the stone mask he had so carefully crafted at a young age cracked

Kazuya slumped slightly, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you into his chest

"You're allowed to talk to me you know. You don't have to unveil your deep, dark secrets but I'm here if you ever need anything"

"I know.....it's just a little hard, I appreciate you being here for me though"

"Do you wanna head back to your dorm or do you wanna play for a bit longer?"

"let's stay out here a little longer, I want to avoid being bombarded by two first years"

#kayquests #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya imagine #miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki kazuya headcanons #daiya no ace scenarios #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace #ace of the diamond #diamond no ace #ace of the diamond headcanons #daiya no ace imagines #ace of diamond #ace of the diamond x reader #ace of diamond x reader

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Better Grades

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “could you write a one-shot with rodrick heffley, where the reader this smart, shy person and needs to tutor rodrick? they don't know much about each other in the beginning, but over the tutoring sessions, they start to open up and learn more about each other and they both start to form a crush on each other. finally, rodrick asks the reader out on a date. thanks!”

Rodrick’s mom told him he needed to get his grades up or else he’d lose the van. Your’s said you needed to get some kind of job or else you’d be given a few extra chores around the house. Seems that this had to be destiny.

You put up flyers around school for one-on-one tutoring, it was a start. You didn’t actually think anyone would go for it, but lo and behold, one of the most careless students in your class was on the other end of the phonecall you had just picked up.

“I was wondering if we could do the, uh, the thing at my house...” Rodrick Heffley suggested awkwardly while clearing his throat on the phone, “it’s just, my mom doesn’t trust me all that much. I gotta prove I’m doing...the thing, or else she’s gonna take my van away and I kinda need it for my band.” You actually didn’t reply to him for a long moment, trying to take in what he was explaining to you. He was obviously embarrassed, too. “Y/N?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I can come to your house. Thursday after school?” You asked him before taking a deep sigh.

“Sure, yeah. If you want, you can meet me at the student parking lot and we can just go to my house together. It’s no big deal.” Rodrick told you while pacing his house, spinning a drumstick between his fingers.

“That works. See you then.” You hung up the phone and fell into your mattress. This was going to be so weird.

—————

You took up Rodrick’s offer and got to ride shotgun in his extremely disgusting van. What made it more awkward was that you barely knew him and the entire time you were in his van, he had his band’s CD playing. You just sucked it up and closed your eyes, imagining the money you would get from this tutoring session.

The first thing you saw upon entering his house was his toddler brother being potty trained in the living room, which seemed to be normal to the rest of the family. Rodrick led you to the kitchen table without saying a thing. Actually, he hadn’t said anything since you guys got in the van. The long streak of silence was broken when his overly-enthusiastic mom saw you come in.

“You must be y/n! Thank you so much for coming over and helping my sweet son out with his homework. It means a lot to the both of us.” Mrs. Heffley had her hands on both sides of your arms while she spoke to you. “Let me get you two some snacks while you work! I’ll just be a minute!” She rushed off and you sat across from Rodrick while he piled all his messy papers and books onto the table. It was a nightmare how disorganized he was.

“Well...where do you want to start?” You asked while pulling your own notes out.

“Uh, the beginning?” Rodrick scoffed and your jaw physically dropped. You didn’t know if you’d be able to make it through this session. You let that slide by and laughed it off awkwardly.

“I meant, what subject? Is there a specific one you need help with?” You tried to clear up your seemingly simple question. Rodrick let out a “psssh” and shrugged.

“I need help with all of them.” His answers were short and sweet. Probably why he was getting marked down in English class. This was going to be a long session.

—————

Your tutoring sessions ended up being every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, but they got harder to dread as you grew closer with Rodrick. In between study breaks, the two of you would simply talk. It was really odd and uncomfortable at first, but you figured that it wasn’t so bad now that you were pretty much forced to spend time with each other.

“I mean, I just think that Mr. McGee is a creep, you know?” Rodrick vented while balancing his drumstick on his nose in the back of his van.

“Oh, I one-hundred percent agree. I don’t know how he’s still a teacher. Or why, he hates kids.” You laughed as your newfound friend poked himself in the eye. I may have forgot to mention that you and Rodrick began hanging out outside of tutoring sessions. He was a semi-pleasant person when you got to know him.

“Dude. Tell your parents you’re doing extra lessons on Saturday. We have to hang out this weekend, there’s so many cool things you haven’t experienced with Rodrick.” He winked and you laughed even harder.

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?” You covered your mouth while laughing and Rodrick gave you a puzzled look.

“Y/N, I don’t even know what ‘the third person’ means.” He told you, only sending you into a stronger fit of giggles until you were lying on the crusty-ass floor. “What? What is so funny?” He joined in a weaker chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me pee, oh, my god.” You were just uncomfortably cackling. Rodrick couldn’t get enough of it. No one had made you laugh like he had...and he’d never been so happy to hear someone laugh like that. It was like music to him, better than his band’s music (in his eyes ears).

“Y/N, I’m gonna start poking you with the drum stick if you don’t listen to me right now.” He smirked over you while you tried to suppress your fit of giggles.

“Okay! Okay, I’m okay. I’m okay.” You repeated as Rodrick opened his van door.

“Follow me.” He grabbed your arm and pretty much yanked you from the van and pushed the door closed. “I know a place.”

The place he knew actually wasn’t too bad. You didn’t take Rodrick as the “outdoorsy” type, but you guys were trekking through a decent amount of brush before you reached a clearing with some freshly-placed lawn chairs and a soggy fire pit.

“Me and my band hung out here last weekend. Perfect view of the stars. I know it’s only four thirty, but we could wait. Just hang out for a while...” He pulled two chairs together and let you sit down. Now this next part is a little weird. Rodrick isn’t the best at feelings. At all. But neither were you, so you were one to talk. He brought a bag with him completed with a box of Oreos, two cans of Pepsi, a rolled-up family size bag of Doritos, and a portable CD player with a disc he made on his own of some of the songs you told him you loved. Showed that he paid attention.

“Oh! I love this song!” You got super excited the moment it started playing, which gifted him the same mood, as well.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I didn’t think I’d like it that much.” He cracked your Pepsi open for you and handed it over. “I didn’t think I’d like you very much, either.”

“Hah! Me neither.” You took a sip of your pop and sighed. “Surprise, surprise.” You looked over to see him staring at you with those deep brown eyes.

“Honestly, I have so much fun with you. Even more fun than I do with the band.” He admitted. “I want to spend more time together. As more than friends or ‘study buddies.’ I’m trying to say, if you want, let’s maybe go on a date? The roller rink seems like the obvious choice. It’s a lot different on your own than it is on field trips...” Rodrick rambled on as you sat there absolutely dumbfounded. It took him a minute to realize that and he needed to snap you out of it. “Y/N?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I could go to the roller rink on Saturday.” You had trouble hiding your smile.

“Hell yeah! I was kind of worried you’d say no and I’d have to find a new tutor.”

taglist: @cullens-stuff // @orgawnas // @randomawesomeperson102 // @queen-destenie // @thatwaspossesion // @frostedgiant //

#rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley #doawk imagine #doawk x reader #doawk #diary of a wimpy kid imagine #diary of a wimpy kid x reader #diary of a wimpy kid

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

alone (egd)

it’s not very often that you and ethan get the house to yourselves... and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it

word count: 8k (holy shit haha)

warnings/tags: smutty smutty smut lets goooo, christening the house hehe, ITS A WILD RIDE

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

It was almost like watching a scene in a sappy romance movie, but instead of the typical girl in the sundress with the handsome man, it was two handsome 6 foot tall men standing outside the airport, staring at each other uncomfortably.

“Just make sure you text me when you land. You got your charger and everything?”

“Yeah E, I’ve got it. I’m gonna miss my plane man, I gotta go,” Grayson said, but he wasn’t moving, obviously unsure of what exactly to do.

“Bye Gray, have fun and be safe,” you decided to step in, giving him a goodbye hug. He squeezed you back, swaying a little bit back and forth.

“Keep him alive and fed for me, will yah?” Gray teased, ruffling your hair like he always did before letting you go.

“I think I can manage that for four days,” you teased, stepping back. There was an odd awkwardness in the air - the twins weren’t very experienced in saying goodbye.

You stood to the side, watching them hug. It was a genuine one, with just a hint of unease in it - the boys hadn’t spent this much time away from each other since they did their one week without each other video.

When they were done, the two of you waved at Grayson until he was out of sight inside the terminal. And then you climbed back into the tesla, you in the passenger seat like usual.

And it was time for the real fun to begin.

Riding in the car with Ethan was one of your favorite little parts of your relationship. It was such a simple thing, to sit next to him in the passenger seat with the music playing. And his hand was always on you somehow - fingers intertwined, pressing kisses to the back of your hand. But it wasn’t often that you didn’t have Grayson in the back seat. This time was different.

As soon as he was merged back onto the highway, his hand was on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the bare skin left by your shorts. It was innocent enough to start, but his fingers trailed higher and higher with each mile he drove, and when you looked over he was chewing on his lip - one of his tells.

“Mind on the road,” you teased, but you opened your legs just barely anyways.

“Baby I drive a tesla. My mind can be anywhere,” he reminded you, a bit of his ego popping through.

“We’re five minutes from home,” you breathed as his hand moved further up, brushing over the zipper of your shorts. There was a nervous energy filling the car, and it reminded you of how you felt before you slept together for the first time. You felt giddy at the thought of having Ethan all to yourself, and the house empty except for the two of you, for four whole days.

“Wanna make sure you’re ready,” he said, voice low and gruff. It sent chills across every inch of your skin.

“Oh trust me, I am,” you sighed, squirming just barely as he rubbed over your skin. He knew exactly how to press your buttons and get you worked up in a matter of minutes.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing your thigh. He edged the speedometer up, wheels flying over payment in a desperate bid to get home even a few minutes earlier.

“Hey, we can’t fuck if you crash before we get home,” you reminded him, messing with your nails. When you looked over at him, his pupils were blown wide, incredulous. The easiest way to get him worked up was with your words, and you used it sparingly, knowing if you always said all the dirty things in your mind that it wouldn’t hold the same effect when you decided to use it. It was the only way you could even the playing field - Ethan could have you in a puddle with one touch.

He slowed down, but only a fraction, and you were itching to get home just as much as he was, maybe more. The gates at the end of the driveway felt like they took an eternity to open when Ethan punched in the code, and you had already undone your seatbelt before he even had smooth cat in park.

You both jumped out of the car, giddy like unsupervised teenagers. He took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he started towards the house. To your surprise, he didn’t open the door immediately. Instead, he turned to you, catching your hips with his hands.

“I have a proposition.”

“Oh do you now.”

“New house. All to ourselves for four days.”

“Mhmmm.” Not sure why we’re not acting on that right about now, you wanted to say, but you held your tongue.

“Christening.” The word hung in the night air for a moment, slowly disappearing into the song the crickets were making. Images flashed through your mind of all the furniture, the floor plan, the layout. Fuck.

“You bought a very large house, with a lot of rooms,” you started. His face fell just a fraction, and his lips parted as he started his rebuttal. You stopped him with a finger.

“We better get started.”

night one, 11pm, living room two

You’d never realized just how soft the purple sectional was; probably because this was the first time you were naked on it. Ethan had made quick work of everything you had on as he lead you in the door, past the small living room, through the kitchen and dining room, and into the small sunken living room two, as they called it.

“Odd first choice,” you mused, not really caring where you were. All you were worried about was the fact that Ethan was still fully clothed, which was wildly unfair in your opinion.

“Well, we’ve already done our room and bathroom, so no need for repeats. Not gonna do Grayson’s room or bathroom, cause that’s just weird. Figured we could work our way across the house. Living room two, dining room, kitchen, living room one. Come back and get the office, guest bathroom, laundry room.” He listed off the rooms like he was reading from the floor plan as he shed his shirt and started to work on his belt.

“You’ve really got this planned out huh. Been daydreaming about having sex with me all over the house?” The smirk on your face was playful, and he just laughed, shaking his head as he shoved his Louis V pants down his legs along with his boxer briefs and stepped out of them.

“I’m always thinking about having sex with you. Duh.” He crawled over top of you, coaxing you to lay down flat on the couch. One of your favorite things about sex with Ethan was that it was always versatile, and not just in positions. You’d had every mood of sex in the book - playful, funny, dirty, kinky, angry. You were so comfortable around each other it wasn’t even funny.

So you weren’t surprised in the slightest that he nudged your hip with his knee and muttered ‘scootch’ so he could get himself comfortable above you. And you also weren’t surprised when you both realized that there was no way in hell that this position was going to work in any way, shape or form on that narrow ass couch.

“Floor?” He asked.

“Floor,” you confirmed, following him as he rolled off you and onto his back on the rug. Now you were hovering over him, straddled over his abs. His hands found the back of your thighs, pushing lightly.

“Come up here,” he grinned, and you knew exactly what he was asking for. You maneuvered your way up until you were hovering above his face.

“Let the christening... begin,” he said in his most dramatic voice, smile wide on his face as his hands came up onto your thighs to pull you down closer to him.

“That’s the cheesiest shit you’ve eve- oh.”

“Mmmm, what was that?” He asked, pulled away from where he’d just been.

“Nothing! Nothing,” you squeaked, suddenly desperate for him to put his mouth back on you. He obliged, starting to work you over slowly. You shifted your weight onto your knees so you could get closer to him, hands going to his hair, which was finally getting just long enough for you to get a grip on.

It didn’t take long for him to set a rhythm with his tongue that has your hips grinding, thighs shaking just barely at the tension of you holding yourself at just the right height. He’s always been so damn good with his mouth, even since the first time you slept together.

But it wasn’t until you bit down on your fist as you came that you hear him groan, and he’s tapping on your thigh, signaling you to dismount. You climbed off, catching your breath and relaxing your muscles, coming down.

“What’d you bite your fist for?” He asked, sitting up and moving towards you like he had on the couch, coaxing you down onto your back again, his fingers ghosting over you.

“Didn’t do it on purpose.” You were still a bit breathless as he ducked down to kiss you.

“Well for once we don’t have to be quiet. Wanna hear you babe, while we can,” he said, more of a request than a demand. You nodded in response as he lifted up slightly, lining himself up. You let your legs fall open to the sides, giving him more room as he dipped down, grazing over your folds.

You let out the breath you’d been holding as he pushed in, moving slow and easy. He held himself up on his hands, which were splayed on the floor above your shoulders to hold you in place. You bit down on your lip, a force of habit.

He grunted above you, moving down to his forearms, rolling his hips as he shifted his weight to one side so he could bring a thumb up, guiding your lip out from under your teeth.

“What’d I just say,” he groaned, a hint of dominance creeping into his tone. You just nodded, overwhelmed as he continued to stretch you out.

“Fuck E,” you moaned, hands coming up onto the skin of his back, nails dragging down. A tiny part of your brain realized it felt weird to be so loud, but the pleasure took over that as you felt everything start to tighten, an overwhelming feeling that you’d become familiar with.

“God, I can feel that,” Ethan breathed, speeding up the roll of his hips, somehow getting even deeper than he already was. “Shit baby, you feel so good.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you whined, pulling him as close as you could, lifting your hips up just barely to meet him. The new angle was electric, just the tiny shift making all the difference, and suddenly your thighs were shaking and you could feel him release, filling you up before he collapsed on top of you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, rolling off you smoothly. You were only on your back for a second before his arm wrapped around your shoulder, rolling you over onto him.

“We’re gonna have to pace ourselves if we’re gonna make it through every room in the house,” you laughed, trying to catch your breath. He ran his fingers over your back, feather light over your spine.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna wear me out,” he laughed with you, reaching his other hand up to run through his hair.

“Your fault, you bought a big ass house,” you grinned, squishing your cheek against him, smiling when you heard the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

Eventually, he somehow mustered the energy to get the two of you to your feet and back towards your room, the unspoken agreement that you were done for the night.

“We should shower,” you mumbled.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Ethan answered, crawling onto the sheets.

“E! We’re gross!”

“Totally disgusting,” he agreed, curling up further into the bed. You thought for a moment about trying to drag him to the shower, but it was no use. If he didn’t wanna move, you couldn’t make him - you’d learned that lesson many times.

Instead, you gave in and crawled over to him, peppering kisses on his bare back. “You’re washing the sheets tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he sighed, twisting to wrap you up in his arms before you both fell asleep.

morning one, 9:42am, kitchen

As you did every morning, you headed into the kitchen alone. The wood was cold against your bare feet, sending goosebumps up your legs. You’d thrown on one of E’s shirts out of habit, but skipped the shorts when you remembered that the house was empty aside from a quietly snoring Ethan.

You made yourself a cup of coffee and turned on the speakers, just loud enough that they might wake Ethan up. The playlist that was just a massive dump of every song the three of you liked started to roll through, and you danced along to it, deciding to make a more complicated breakfast than normal. If there was one thing you could cook, it was breakfast.

The boys had started to branch out and find more vegan substitutes, so you were happy to find all the ingredients you needed to make vegan breakfast bagels - an egg substitute, vegan cheese, even veggie sausage that would work great. While everything cooked away, you cut up some fruit and sipped at your coffee, getting more and more into the music as it played, especially when your favorite Cudi song came on - the boys had gotten you hooked as soon as you moved in, said it was a ‘house rule’ that you stan Cudi.

Lost in your own little world as you scrambled the ‘eggs’, the poke to your hip made you squeal and almost drop the spatula. You turned and saw E, a goofy close lipped smile on his face.

“What’d you poke me for?” You grinned, getting up on your tiptoes to kiss him good morning. He answered by poking your cheek again, then squeezing it gently between his thumb and his index finger.

“Just makin’ sure you’re real, and that I’m not dreamin’,” he sighed, brushing some hair back from your face, proud of the blush he brought to your cheeks.

“You’re such a simp.” You turned back to the ‘eggs’, cutting off the burner, happy they were done so you could give him your full attention for a few minutes.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you countered. “Okay maybe not a simp, but definitely a sap. Over here poking me to make sure I’m not a dream,” you teased, but you loved every second of it.

“But you are a dream,” he said in his most dramatic voice, hands going to your waist to guide you away from the stove. With one swift move he spun you around and lifted you up so you were suddenly sitting on the island, now just a hair taller than him.

“I wake up to you, cooking a damn good vegan breakfast in my kitchen, with Cudi on the speakers, in my shirt-” he reached for the hem, moving it slightly up from where it sat on your thighs, obviously expecting shorts. He groaned when he didn’t find any.

Immediately, his hand was coming around to the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair as he pulled you down towards him, lips on yours. Usually his kisses were a bit lazy in the morning, but right now he was more than awake, and you could tell.

It wasn’t another minute before he was guiding you backwards and you were laying on the counter, cold marble setting all your nerve endings on fire as his fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down in one swift motion.

He pressed kisses to your thighs, morning scruff tickling your skin as he made his way up, coaxing your legs to open for him. It was on odd sensation being out in the open like this, but you didn’t have the energy to care once his mouth was on you.

“Fucking shit,” you groaned, the sensitivity left from last night elevating things immediately.

“All good?” He murmured, looking up to you for reassurance. He knew your body almost as well as you did by now, knew you’d be sensitive.

“Yeah, yeah keep going.” You were practically begging for it already and it had only been a few seconds. He started with long, flat tongue licks that he knew would have you squirming, even if he didn’t add a finger like he did.

“Jesus E, fuck,” you whimpered, fingers grasping at the smooth counter, desperate to find something to hold onto as he worked you over. He just hummed against you, satisfied that you were being vocal and adding to the sensation all at the same time.

His tongue moved up to your clit and you gasped, sitting up slightly and grabbing at his head, fingers trying to find purchase in his short hair. It didn’t faze him in the slightest and he continued his work, knowing you were close.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you squeaked, body tensing up and then relaxing all at once, causing you to collapse back onto the counter. You barely had enough left in you to make sure that your head didn’t hit the marble.

“Well, kitchen can get checked off,” he breathed, pressing kisses to your skin as you tried to settle back down. After a few moments he helped you sit up, leaving you to relax while he picked up where you left off with breakfast as if nothing had just happened. That was one of your favorite things about Ethan - he was a giver, through and through, and he never did anything to get something in return.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to repay the favor.

“You are getting the best head of your life later, so prepare yourself.” You tried to stay serious, but your voice was still a bit breathless as you came up beside him.

“Like I said. Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ girl,” he smiled, reaching a hand around to cup your ass and pull you up against his side as he continued to cook.

evening one, 6:33pm, the laundry room

You watched him put the blue liquid into the washer, filling up the little cap and putting it into the little container on the right side. You weren’t sure why, but watching Ethan do domestic shit was one of the hottest things to you.

“Did you just put fabric softener in with the sheets?”

“Of course I did,” he responded with a smirk.

“Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ guy.” You quoted him from earlier with a smug grin, moving from where you were watching in the doorway to right beside him. The washer started to hum, filling up with water as you spun him around so his back was against it.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at you in surprise - you weren’t usually the one to initiate things, not because you didn’t want to, but because Ethan usually beat you to the punch.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled on the waistband of his shorts and briefs, reaching down to find his cock, which was already rising to your attention.

“Laundry huh? That’s what does it for you?” Ethan said, trying to seem unaffected, but his breath was already catching in his throat. He always got very overwhelmed when you took care of him like this - he was so used to being the giver, sometimes he wasn’t exactly sure what to do as the receiver.

“Shhh, just relax. I told you to prepare for this, remember?” You teased, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him while you pushed his shorts and briefs down. They pooled around his feet and you followed them, sinking to your knees.

“Fucking shit.” He breathed it out, barely audible over the machinery behind him that he started to brace on as you took him in your mouth.

You just hummed as you worked him over, knowing exactly where to get him weak in the knees. He liked slow, long strokes at first, but you surprised him by coming up to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he whined, thigh twitching and hand coming down to your hair. His fingers tangled in it and you didn’t ease up at all, knowing you were about to get him right where you wanted him.

You backed off for just a second, just to see his reaction as you looked up at him. His eyes had been closed for a bit, knuckles white as he gripped onto the washer. But with the loss of contact they flew open, just as you wanted them to.

With his eyes on you, you grabbed onto his hips, opening wide and taking him as far down your throat as you could. You fought the urge to gag, grinning a bit when his hips stuttered and his breath hitched. He even bent over slightly, body unsure of how to handle feeling so good.

He wasn’t even forming words anymore when you started to suck again, paying special attention to the vein that ran along the side as he practically came undone.

When your hand came back up to his balls, he was done for. He came quickly, and you let it slide down your throat, leaving him in your mouth until he guided you off.

You stood up proudly, wiping the corner of your mouth with your shirt while you waited for him to catch his breath.

“You are incredible,” were the words he chose, boosting your ego and making you blush all at the same time.

But you didn’t get a chance to respond, because suddenly he was bending down, your hips colliding with his shoulder as he scooped you up, grabbing onto your legs as he stood up.

“Ethan!” You squealed, bracing your hands on his lower back to hold yourself up. “Your ass is literally in my face.”

“You love it,” he teased, reaching up to give an easy slap to yours, making you squeak as he headed to the next room.

evening one, 7:07pm, guest bathroom

He didn’t even sit you down - he just waltzed right into the shower, opening the glass door and turning on the water.

“Cold, cold cold cold!” You gasped as the water ran over your back, hitting your shirt and soaking the fabric through.

He didn’t react to the water - he only squatted down so he could put you on your feet, hands immediately going to your waist to push you up against the wall. The water was starting to warm up, but the tile was so cold that it still took your breath.

It wasn’t helping that Ethan’s touch was making you feel like your skin was on fire, flushed and warm as he bent down slightly to catch your nipple in his mouth through your shirt. You moaned at that, back arching off the tiles when he nipped at it with his teeth.

“Not supposed to shower with clothes on,” you whimpered, already overwhelmed by just his hands on you.

“Not gonna shower, don’t even have soap in here. Christening, remember?” He whispered it, barely audible over the sound of the water hitting the floor. You didn’t have to ask his plans - he showed you, one hand moving to cup your core. He groaned when he felt a different kind of wet.

“All this, just from sucking my cock huh? Don’t deserve you, truly,” he grinned, hand coming up to the waist of your panties and yanking. The fabric tore, making you gasp.

Somehow, Ethan was already impossibly hard again, ready for another round. He pinned your hips back against the wall, foot pushing your legs just a little wider so he could line himself up. He pushed up in one swift stroke, stretching you out yet again. Somehow, it was even better than the day before, and you were so lost in the bliss you barely felt him pull your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

“Fuck E, feels so good,” you moaned, arms going around his neck as he started his rhythm, deliciously slow yet fast enough at the same time. Only he could fuck you like this, you were sure.

“Tell me how good baby, tell me how I make you feel,” he urged, hands moving to the tiles behind your head as he thrust into you, grunts and groans falling from his lips with every move.

“So good E, so fuckin’ good baby, you’re so deep, fuck,” you let the words tumble out, not thinking twice about them. When he leaned in to kiss you it made you clench all over and he hissed against your lips at the feeling.

“So tight for me baby girl, fuck, my fuckin’ pussy.” The mixture of his groans and the filth coming out of his mouth was enough for you to get yourself right to the edge.

He felt it, felt you lift up on your tiptoes, felt your walls tighten and start to flutter. He reached between you, fingers finding your clit just in time. He rubbed quickly, causing you to stop breathing as every muscle in your body tensed and then you were shaking, so hard your teeth chattered. If his dick wasn’t still inside you you probably would have sunk to the ground.

He pulled out of you as soon as you were done, leaving you feeling entirely empty. You watched with hazy eyes as he turned off the water.

He came back over to you, strong arms wrapping you up and lifting you with ease, even with your skin slick from the water. You let him do whatever he wanted, just relaxing into his shoulder as he carried you out of the shower with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“We’re gonna make a mess on the floor,” you mumbled, watching the water fall off his body and drip onto the wood.

“Shhh, it’s fine,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he started to walk towards your room. You couldn’t help but feel that he was still hard, practically throbbing below your entrance as he carried you.

“Where we goin’?” You asked quietly, sitting up.

“Our room.”

“No repeats, remember?” you mumbled. “Put me down.”

He did as you asked, but there was already concern written all over his face. He kept a hand on you as you wobbled slightly, knees still a bit weak.

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

You just took his hand.

night two, 7:30pm, living room one

“Sit down,” you instructed him, pulling him towards the couch. He plopped down on the gray fabric - you knew there would be a wet patch there when you all were done, but you didn’t care.

Before you could say anything else, he reached out, hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not up for it. Really, I mean it. The whole christening thing is just for fun.” His voice was so soft - he was obviously worried that you were overdoing it. After all, you did have a history of being too sensitive for so many rounds in a row; Ethan always took it as a compliment.

But now, you were somehow still horny, and you knew he was painfully hard, especially since it was his second go round. So, you decided to prove to him that you were perfectly fine, leaning over, hands going to his thighs as you got in his face.

“Are you trying to convince me not to sit on your dick right now?” You said it slowly, drawing out your words. “Do you not want me to ride you?”

You actually watched him swallow, and he shook his head like a school boy being scolded.

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned, climbing onto his lap.

You wasted no time, bracing yourself on his shoulder so you could lift up and sink down onto him. There was barely a stretch this time, and you were glad, because you could immediately start up the pace you wanted. You went to your knees so he’d stay deep inside as you started to roll your hips like you knew he loved.

“Shit,” he choked out, hands moving to your ass, squeezing the flesh there as you leaned forward, adding a bit of a bounce to your movements - having your tits in his face was just a bonus.

“Not gonna last, fuck baby, just like that.” The words disappeared into your skin as he buried his face in your neck while you kept moving. Wanting to see his face, you tugged on his hair until his head came back up and you could kiss him.

His hands were desperate, wandering all over your skin as he tried to keep it together, lips rough against yours. It took so much focus for you to keep your pace as your own orgasm started to build, especially when you felt Ethan rising up to meet you, trying to get impossibly deeper.

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” You didn’t care that it had only been a few minutes - you knew he was so close, you could feel it.

He groaned at your words, and you gasped as his hands came to your hips, actually lifting you slightly just so he could pound into you harder. And just that slight shift of angle was enough to build you up in just a few strokes, and suddenly you were cumming with him, seeing stars as your body tried to process the third major orgasm of the day.

“Holy shit,” was all Ethan could say once he caught his breath. You were still speechless, body totally spent as you just sat there, exhausted. “Three in one day, that’s a lot for you,” he praised, pressing kisses to your temple. “My pretty girl is all fucked out huh?”

“Mmmm,” was your only response, and even you didn’t know what it was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, moving so he could stand up. He shifted inside you, making you whimper until he was able to lift you off of him. He mumbled an apology, hands coming around to your ass to hold you up. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he carried you back to your room.

Ten minutes later and the bathtub was full with hot water, waiting for you as you rinsed off in the shower first, deciding your hair desperately needed washing. Ethan watched you through the glass door as he waited in the water for you, soft smile spreading across his face when you finished up and headed to join him, limbs heavy.

He sat up to help you step into the massive white tub, immediately wrapping his arms around you as you settled back against his chest.

“You remember how you said we needed to pace ourselves?” He murmured in your ear. “Well, we only have two rooms left. We’re beasts.”

“What’s gonna happen when we have our own house? We could do this every weekend,” You teased, twisting around so you could rest your cheek on his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to his neck and collarbone.

“Do you want our own place?”

You thought on it for a moment, as much as your blissed out haze would let you. “Not for a while. I like living with Gray.”

“Wait. If we didn’t live with Gray, would you just walk around with no pants on all the time?” The seriousness of his tone made you giggle.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“That’s it, we’re moving, I’m getting on Zillow right now-” he sat up slightly as if he was going to get out of the tub, making you laugh and cling onto him.

“Stop, you know you love living with your brother. You miss him already and it’s only been like a day.”

He sighed, chest rising below you. “You’ve kept me plenty distracted.” But you both knew that you were right.

morning three, 10am, office

Your second whole day at home alone was so... soft. There was no other way to put it. You’d woken up on your own time, thrown on some comfy clothes and went together to your favorite vegan bakery, getting lattes and the best banana bread.

E had driven you up to a lookout and you’d had breakfast together watching the waves crash on the coast. And when you got home, you spent the whole day just moseying around the house, dancing around to the music on the speakers, playing cards, cuddling on the couch and watching movies.

“Can’t wait till this is us in our house with a few little mini you’s running around,” Ethan had said, pulling you closer to him on the couch.

“Mini me’s? Why not mini you’s?”

“Oh god, I wouldn’t wish a mini me on anybody, just ask Li,” he’d teased back. And the night had devolved into the two of you talking about what you thought your lives would look like in the future - living either in Jersey or LA, but definitely with Grayson as a neighbor. Two or three kids running around, not too far apart in age. You could picture it all in your head so clearly, and it had even seeped into your dreams later that night when you fell asleep on Ethan’s chest.

So when you woke up on the third morning, you pouted a bit when you didn’t find Ethan beside you in bed. You climbed out from under the covers, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and going in search of him - you wanted to tell him about the little mini-him’s you’d dreamed about, and how cute they were. You checked each room as you went along, finally hearing his voice and peeking into the office.

He was spinning slightly in the office chair, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I think that’s fine. If we restock in July, then we should have enough time to get enough surplus built up before the holidays.” He caught sight of you then, face lighting up. He waved you in, wanting you to join him.

You could hear the voice on the other side of the line as you got closer, and recognized it as Nathan, one of the main product managers for Wakeheart. He’d made sure not to plan any meetings for the days you had the house to yourself, giving himself a ‘mini-vacation’, but you knew he couldn’t stay away from work that long. You didn’t mind - his ambition was one of your favorite things about him.

So you simply headed over to settle onto his lap, nuzzling up into his neck as you straddled one of his thighs and cuddled up.

He pulled the phone away from his ear for just a moment, turning his head to kiss you good morning.

“Do you think we should make a holiday line? Grayson and I were talking about it, or we could just run some specific packaging deals, with mini’s or something.” He kept talking, spinning about 45 degrees in the chair and then back again, using his foot to move him.

What he didn’t realize was that just that movement was making your core shift on his wide thigh, and your thin panties weren’t doing anything to help the situation.

You still had a bit of residual sensitivity, but it didn’t hurt - now it just made it that much easier to get turned on. You tried to ignore it for a minute - Ethan always took his work so seriously, and you really didn’t want to interrupt.

But soon it was too obvious - you knew that if he didn’t already feel the wetness on his skin, he was going to soon. Almost against your own will your hips started to move just slightly, desperate for any type of friction across your throbbing core.

And of course, Ethan noticed. You sat up, trying to get a new angle and his eyes were blown wide, mouth actually hanging open slightly because holy shit, you were actually riding his thigh while he was on a business call.

With a devious grin, he bounced his leg once, and you squeaked so loud that you had no doubt that Nathan heard it. Your hands immediately went up to cover your mouth, cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“Just my floor, sorry. What’d you say?” He played it off, pressing a finger to your lips and still smirking at you as you started to grind again, one hand going to his shoulder, the other bracing against his right thigh to give you leverage.

“Yeah, we could do two separate mini bundles, with one set for enterlight and the other with the signatures, maybe spruce it up with some festive packaging.” His voice was devilishly calm, and somehow that only turned you on more. The fact that he could be so unaffected by you literally getting off just using his leg had your skin flushed and hot, a mixture of embarrassment and want.

“We’ll have to run it past Gray once he’s back. Right now it’s just me and my girl at the house, Sterling isn’t even here, so it’s just us.” His eyes were on you, but you didn’t realize how intensely he was watching you until he brought his other hand up to grab your jaw, tilting your head back until you had no option but to stare directly at him.

You bit down on your lip hard, fighting with yourself to stay quiet as you worked yourself up, moving fast, the chair starting to creak just barely with your movements. A few whimpers still slipped past your lips and you could actually see his pupils blow wide at the sound.

“Yeah, uh, actually Nathan I think Y/N needs me for... something. Can we finish this up later?” There was a slight gruff to his voice now, the first real sign that any of this was getting to him. “Alright, talk soon. Bye.”

His phone hit the desk hard as he practically dropped it, both hands moving to your hips as his mood turned on a dime.

“God you drive me insane baby. Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but I love it,” he groaned, gripping onto your hips as you continued to move, so lost in the feeling that you barely even heard his words.

“Fuck Ethan, I’m close, I’m so fuckin close,” you breathed, digging your nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth.

“There you go baby girl, c’mon, get yourself off on my leg, c’mon, you’re almost there,” he encouraged you, starting to barely bounce his leg to give you that extra little bit of friction you needed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fu-” your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your words as your whole body tensed up, thighs closing together to squeeze around his as your toes came off the ground and every muscle in your legs started to shake. It rolled through you in waves, keeping you tensed up for almost 30 seconds before you were finally able to breathe. You gulped down the air you’d been missing, collapsing forward onto Ethan’s chest as his arms wove around you.

“Woah. That was a good one huh?” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your back as you caught your breath. “If you needed me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Was just comin’ to tell you about my dream,” you stood up, moving to close your legs and sit on his lap sideways instead, too sensitive to stay like you had been.

“Oh yeah? And what did my girl dream about, hmm?”

You launched into the story, talking about how the two of you had a daughter and son, both with dark curls like Ethan’s that bounced around while they played in the treehouse that Grayson had built for their kids to share.

“It really sent the baby fever into overdrive,” you sighed, tracing over his collarbone tattoo as you finished.

“You know,” he leaned down, getting closer to your ear. “If you want a baby, you gotta at least give me a chance to get my dick in you.”

“Stopppp,” you blushed, burying your face in his neck. He just laughed.

“Oh so now you’re gonna get bashful on me huh? Just came in here and rode my thigh into oblivion while I was on a business call, but me mentioning putting a baby in you, oh no, that crosses the line.”

You sat up and pouted at his teasing, but he just kissed it right off your lips with a laugh. “You know I love it, don’t be embarrassed.”

afternoon four, 3:32pm, dining room

“Babe, c’mon, if we’re late Gray’s gonna be pissed,” you called out, grabbing Grayson’s water bottle from the counter and filling it up - you were always thirsty after a long flight, and you figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Ethan came around the corner then, taking one look at you and immediately turning around with a groan, heading back to your room.

“E!”

“You’re wearing that? You don’t even have a shred of mercy for me, do you?” He was exasperated as soon as he came back into the kitchen.

You looked down at yourself - you just had on a sundress, it was no big deal.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’m already trying to get over the fact that you’re gonna start wearing pants again all the time and you’re out here looking all... all tempty,” he pouted, and you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“Tempty? That’s a new one. And hey, technically I still don’t have on pants,” you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

“Is that supposed to be helpful right now?” He asked, making you realize that pointing out the fact that your were in a dress probably wasn’t helping the already growing bulge in his pants.

With devious eyes, he glanced over at the clock. You had a few minutes to spare before you absolutely had to leave to avoid being late, and he knew it too.

“Ethan... no. No,” you cautioned as he started to walk towards you, but you were laughing at the fact he looked like a cat on the prowl.

“C’mon, we never finished our christening! All we have left is the dining room! You know I hate giving up.” He was pouting again, even sticking his bottom lip out as he kept walking and you backed up until you bumped into the wooden table.

“We’re gonna be late,” was your last possible defense, and even that was half assed. You were already wet god dammit, all he had to do was look at you.

“Please baby? We’ll be quick, I promise.”

You answer by turning around, bending over and reaching back to flick your dress up over your ass. His knees almost give out at the sight.

“Absolute.” He leaned down and presses a kiss to your left asscheek. “Dream.” He kissed the other, making you laugh.

“Thought we were gonna be quick,” you teased, secretly loving all the attention. As excited as you were to see Grayson, you sure as hell were gonna miss this.

“So greedy,” he chuckled, moving up to catch your thong with his fingers and pull it down to your knees. You heard the rustle of him getting his shorts down, and a gentle tap at your slit with his tip was your only warning before he pushed himself in.

“Fuckin’ shit baby,” you croaked, hands balling into fists at the sensation. You weren’t sure how it felt so good to be stretched out so nicely - surely you’d get used to it eventually, but you secretly hoped you never did.

“Hmm, feels nice huh? You feel so good every damn time,” he praised, hands squeezing at your ass as he pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in. “Always so soft for me.” He was lazily rolling his hips, giving you just enough to get you worked up but not enough to get you there.

“Fast Ethan. We’re going for fast,” you reminded him, a bit of sass creeping into your tone. You didn’t want to deal with a cranky post-travel Grayson if you were late.

He stilled his movement entirely, leaning forward to nip at your ear.

“You asked for it.”

And then he was moving, pulling your hips so he could slam into you fully, only letting go to reach around and rub at your clit, making your whole body tense up at the sudden change in pace.

“Fuck yes Ethan, fuck just like that, yes, yes yes yes,” you whimpered, a hand even coming to smack at the wood on the table as you tried to process all the sensation happening so quickly.

“Already tightening up, look at you.” His breathing was already labored as he continued pounding into you, grunting with the force of it. Neither of you were going to last long, it felt too good. “C’mon baby, wanna feel it. Cum for me, I know you’re close.”

You brought one hand down over his, guiding him to just the right spot over your clit, the callouses on his finger giving you just the right friction that had you tumbling over the edge.

You collapsed onto the table with the force of the orgasm, smiling when you felt Ethan chasing his own high and spilling into you only a few moment later, only your name falling from his lips.

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and then you were waddling off to the bathroom to clean yourself up quickly before pulling your panties back up. Ethan watched you with a smug smirk as you tried to walk normally, his ego bursting.

“Shut it,” you threatened, pointing a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

“I said nothing.” But his smirk was enough. “Better get that figured out before we get Grayson, or he’ll never let us live it down,” he grinned, offering you his arm as you rearranged your dress and let him lead you out to the car.

40 minutes later and you were climbing out of the car, legs not giving too much away as you watched Ethan run around the car and engulf his twin in the biggest hug, both of them more than ecstatic to see each other.

“Missed you bro,” Grayson smiled, looking over at you. “Missed you too munch,” he said, throwing out the nickname that only he was allowed to call you. Once Ethan let him go he moved over to you, giving you the biggest bear hug and spinning you around. Ethan reacted before you did, reaching a hand out to keep your dress down in the wind.

“Woah, easy, that’s only for my eyes,” Ethan huffed, pulling you to his side once you were back on your feet.

“Righttt, I forgot. But hey, I’m home now, so you’re gonna have to start wearing pants around the house again. Sorry to ruin the no-pants party,” Grayson smirked, watching the blush spread across your cheeks as you whirled on Ethan.

“You told him?” You squeaked, embarrassment running through you from head to toe.

“Thanks bro, real fuckin’ nice,” Ethan said over your head before looking at you. “That’s the only thing I told him, I swear.”

“You’re so dead,” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he knew he was in for it later.

“Ahh, so nice to be home,” Grayson grinned, wrapping you both up in a hug as he laughed.

-----

SORRY this took so long guys. also if u love me u should message me which room was your favorite just for fun haha thank you for reading, ily guys!

#GOD this was a lot of work holy shit #took me SO long thanks for being patient!!#lynds writes #ethan dolan #ethan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine

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bazwillendinflames · 3 years

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Wish For You

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For Matteusz, he had hoped that travelling to the kingdom of Rhodia would bring a better life. Despite a job at the castle, his magic - forbidden by the Queen - and growing feelings for Prince Charles, have only complicated things.

For Prince Charles, tired of living in a carefully controlled world meant to protect him, seeks a night of escape, with the help of the closest thing he has to a true friend. A night at the Festival of Souls provides them both a night of freedom. But how free can you truly be when there's a part of yourself you're always hiding?

(AKA A loosely based Merlin Marlie au)

Part One - Magic

Matteusz did his chores by hand, even though it was so early the grand hallways of the castle were practically deserted. He had seen the fate of magic users first hand within his first week in Rhodia. Even almost a year later, the smell of smoke still brought back uncomfortable memories of the woman’s screaming.

He pushed open the Prince’s door without knocking and almost dropped the breakfast tray as Charles let out a startled yelp. Matteusz was equally surprised to see him awake so early - it was rare for him to be awake before Matteusz arrived. It was even rarer for him to awake and ready, although his shirt was ill-fitting and old.

“My apologies Matteusz,” Charles said formally.

“I should have knocked,” he said, not quite sure whether to comment on the fact Charles was usually sleeping at this time. “Your breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

Charles began eating, in the delicate way only nobles who had their next meal guaranteed could. Matteusz tried not to stare at him, although he was more concerned the Prince had gotten himself cursed again than the other reasons he sometimes found himself watching him . But Charles’ eyes were the same pretty blue, no hints of enchantment or glossiness there. (He always seemed to get himself in trouble, magical or otherwise. Matteusz wasn’t sure how the Prince made it to nineteen without him.)

“Are you feeling alright?”

Charles nodded. “Why would I not be?”

They may be friendlier than Mattuesz suspected a Prince and a servant were meant to be - almost friends (which was enough, even if a part of him ached hopelessly for more) - but he still knew better than to push it.

“No reason,” he answered politely instead, busying himself with lighting the fire.

“What has my Mother planned for me today?”

“Strategic meetings in the morning, training with the knights in the afternoon.” The same as every Friday.

Charles’ handsome face twitched into a frown. “How… lovely. What of the evening?”

“No plans I know of.”

That seemed to please Charles, although he didn’t let on why. “Excellent.”

Matteusz didn’t pry. As long as Charles did not get himself into danger (again), he was welcome to his secrets.

Matteusz started tidying the room picking up crumpled clothes. Charles may be polite and remember the names of his servants but he was incredibly messy. He could afford to be in a house full of servants, part of him thought bitterly. Still, Matteusz enjoyed his job, he liked the quiet domestic mornings and he liked being at Charles’ side. He was lucky to get a job at the castle, even if it was a little tedious at times and he was too fearful to use magic. The paycheck that funded his sisters’ education kept him going.

A canvas was set up in the corner, still wet at the edges. It must have been why Charles was awake so early, although Matteusz would never have guessed he was an artist. It was impressive, a beautiful painting of the Rhodian town square, lit up with hundreds of candles. Only half of the night sky was painted but Matteusz could tell it would be a gorgeous piece when finished.

“Did you paint this?” He found himself asking. Then, as it was an obvious question he added: “it is very good.”

Charles looked over at the canvas, his expression pained. “I did. I can explain-”

“You are very talented,” Matteusz interrupted, hoping he wasn’t pushing any of the unspoken boundaries between them. “Is it ever lit up that way? With all the candles?”

“Yes, candles,” Charles said quickly. “It’s how I imagine the town to look at night. I have not been able to see it like that.”

“I would like to see it like that as well,” he agreed, “you make it look magical.”

“Do not tell the Queen that,” Charles said dryly. Matteusz stepped back from the painting guiltily. But it was clear Charles was not being serious, just another of his jokes that did not land right.

“Our secret,” he promised.

Charles smiled at that and Matteusz made himself busy again. It would not do him well to linger on the fluttering in his chest for too long. A Prince and a servant - especially a foriegn one with magic - like him would never work. (But it was nice to imagine sometimes. But only sometimes. If he indulged in Charles' smile for too long, he’d never get anything done at all.)

With the prince busy all morning, Matteusz found himself in a cramped corner of the palace library. Tanya always seemed to know when he’d be away from Charles’ side and had ambushed him half-way through doing laundry. There had been little point arguing as he was dragged around the castle, although he made a token attempt at protesting anyway.

“Shouldn't you be working?”

She hushed him, balancing another scroll on the pile in his arms. Matteusz was sure they weren’t allowed to access the royal library for personal use but there was little point bringing it up to Tanya. She was both stubborn and clever enough to get away with it. Besides, she was one of his only friends.

“Come on,” she hurried him along.

Matteusz followed her, weaving through the many hallways and servant passages of the castle. It had been an impressive sight on his first day but there was always some new pathway or hiding spot he was learning of - impossibly, it was bigger on the inside. Tanya had taken them to a small room, the size of a cupboard, with two beds squeezed in and a rocky dresser in the corner.

“Do not let anyone see you here.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

Tanya pulled on the bottom draw until he came out completely with a creak. A dozen scrolls were hidden there.

“Clever,” he noted. Matteusz had hidden a few texts of his own - old books of magic from the old religion, half-translated to Polish by his Grandmother. Under the queen’s rule, it was important to know how to hide.

“Thanks. I usually don’t take so many, but it was so busy today. Everyone is preoccupied with the festival today.”

“What festival?”

Tanya looked up from her scrolls. “You don’t- I keep forgetting you’re new. Tonight is the Festival of Souls. All staff get the night off. It’s tradition.”

“That’s unexpectedly nice of the Queen.”

“The Prince actually,” she corrected.

Matteusz smiled. “Really?”

Tanya wedged back the draw with force. “Come help me finish my chores so we can go early? And please take that sappy look off your face.”

Matteusz followed her smiling. Tanya may drag him around the castle but at least she dragged him out of it too. A kingdom away from Cela, he had found himself another sister.

“So tell me more about this festival?” Matteusz asked.

They were taking the long walk on the outskirts of the castle, carrying heavy buckets of water out to the stables. As one of the younger servants, Tanya was usually stuck with grunt work like that. Matteusz had only been roped into helping her out of his own niceness.

“It’s fun. There’s live music and nice food. At the end, we light candles that’s meant to be our soul’s wish.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“You’re lucky you get to experience it for the first time.”

They crossed over from the cobblestone bricks onto the uneven grass. It was a short cut that they desperately needed - Matteusz arms were starting to ache.

“Thank the gods,” Tanya said, dropping the buckets on the ground. “I wish they’d just install a pump out here.”

Matteusz put down his own load and sat by her on the ground. “We deserve a break.”

“Agreed.”

“Did someone say break?” April asked. “Count me in.”

She ignored her own duties of taking the buckets in and joined them. April was one of the stable hands who looked after the castle horses. It was a job that suited her - she was very gentle with them. Matteusz had even caught her singing to them a few times.

“Are you coming to the festival?”

“If the right person asks me,” she replied coyly.

“Are you talking about a certain knight?” Tanya teased.

They were sat close enough to the training fields to make out the figures sparring with each other.

“I might be.” April waved in their direction. The knight in question, Lord Singh, waved back and was knocked on the ground. He did his best to style it out, jogging over in their direction.

“Here’s your chance,” Tanya muttered. “Oh hey Ram. You know you’re meant to stay on your feet during a fight, right?”

“Funny.” He smiled at them charmingly. “I wasn’t expecting my fans.”

“More like casual spectators,” Tanya replied, although it was clear his attention was now firmly directed at April.

“I think that’s our sign to leave.”

“Agreed.” They stood up to leave.

Matteusz smiled over his shoulder. “Hope to see you later April.”

“You will!”

“Should I be jealous you have plans?”

Matteusz almost laughed. He had far more interest in him than April. (Ram flirted with everyone. It said a lot about how smitten he was with Charles that Matteusz wasn’t taken by him more.)

“Just the festival later. You know the one you’ll be taking me to later.”

The pair continued flirting as Tanya and Matteusz walked back in the direction of the castle.

“Good for her.”

“Yeah.” She seemed a little wistful. “Wish it was that easy for people like us to find someone.”

Matteusz’ thoughts ended up back to Charles. “And tell them,” he added.

“My apologies, I didn’t realise you were back from your training already.”

Charles was sitting in front of his canvas, a smudge of dark blue paint on his chin. “No need to apologise.”

“You didn’t go, did you?”

“It may have slipped my mind,” Charles confessed.

Matteusz peered over his shoulder at the painting he had been working on this morning. It was now near finished, with the indigo sky complete and a pale moon in the corner. “You really are talented.”

“You flatter me,” he replied. But Mattuesz could tell from the smile that he enjoyed the flattery.

“Is it the festival?”

“It’s close. I’ve not yet been able to attend myself.”

The Queen was likely behind it: she was a paranoid woman. (She had enough reason to be paranoid, the magical community had targeted Charles a dozen times over her policies against them.)

“I can tell you about it tomorrow.”

“You’re attending?” Charles asked, turning away from his painting.

“If I am allowed to?”

He nodded. “Of course. It’s funny, in ways you have so much more freedom than I do.”

“In some ways,” Matteusz replied, thinking of the flow of magic under his skin he was terrified to use.

“Could I ask something of you?” There was a softness to the Prince’s voice that Matteusz had clung onto. He had a feeling whatever it was Charles would ask of him, he would agree.

“Anything.”

“Could you take me with you?”

Part 2 - Magic

Part of Charles had been hoping that Matteusz would have lent him some clothes. It was strangely disappointing that he hadn’t - his painting clothes had been women enough to pass as commoner wear. Although perhaps if he claimed to be cold later, Matteusz would offer his jacket, or the soft looking scarf he usually wore.

(Charles usually didn’t allow himself to linger too long on Matteusz like that. There were a hundred good reasons not to linger on the way Matteusz had tenderly wiped paint from his face earlier. It wouldn’t end well, for either of them.)

As if Matteusz could tell what he was thinking, he looked over (or down, more accurately) at him. “Are you alright?”

Charles felt his cheeks flush. “Yes.”

Matteusz smiled at him. Perhaps his simpler clothing was doing something good: it seemed like they were almost equals. Matteusz rarely smiled at him as much whilst he was working.

“I can see from here.”

Charles followed him, catching sight of the lights threaded amongst the trees and windowsills of the square. He had only been in the town square a few times before and never in under conditions. This was no emergency evacuation due to cursed wells or an unfortunate face off with an embittered magic welder. (Or, on one special occasion, a dragon.)

The square was far from the state of chaos he was used to. The festival was filled with dozens of lights, meant to represent the souls of their lost family and friends. There were small stalls, with barrels of ale or delicious smelling foods. A band played music in the centre.

“It’s so much more than I was ever able to imagine.”

“You can try and repaint it,” Matteusz suggested.

“Some things are just too beautiful to really capture.”

“You don’t know until you’ve tried.”

Under the waves of gentle candle light, his warm brown eyes were almost golden. It was hard not to get caught up in it all, so Charles forced himself to step away. He was still a prince after all, no matter how free he felt or how simple he was dressed.

“Best not to. I don’t want to give us- me away.”

Matteusz seemed to get the underlying message and nodded. “Yes, of course sir.”

“You know I hate that,” Charles said, hoping his exaggerated frustration would lighten the mood.

Matteusz looked almost relieved. But before Charles could really analyse his expression, Mattuesz was pushing forward through the crowd towards the cluster of stalls.

They stopped at a few stalls, browsing the various wares there. Matteusz picked up a set of two woven bracelets. A matching set.

Charles swallowed back any jealousy. It wasn’t his business to ask who it was for, Matteusz was allowed to have a life outside of his work.

“Best ale in the kingdom,” Matteusz said. He was talking to the old woman who ran the stall with an easy charm.

“Flattery will get you nowhere young man,” she replied. Her accent was similar to Matteusz’ own - she must be from the edge of the kingdom as well. “Who’s this?”

“A friend from the palace,” Matteusz answered.

“Ah. Another unlucky soul?”

Charles stayed quiet, mildly alarmed. Maybe his Mother was right when she told him there was danger everywhere.

“But we have so kindly been given a day off,” Matteusz replied.

It hadn’t occurred to Charles that Matteusz might actually want to spend his day off away from him. He couldn’t imagine any of his past servants doing the same for him.

Matteusz paid for the drinks, passing a tall glass of a dark ale to him.

Charles gave it an experimental sip and spluttered on the bitter taste. He was glad Matteusz was turned away for that one.

They moved away from the stalls, crossing a group of giggling young women pushing past in the other direction, knocking their bags into him and splashing their drinks.

“It seems like your disguise is working.”

Charles rubbed at the dark stain now on his arm. “Yes. Maybe too well.”

“Surely it is nice to be invisible for once?”

“It’s certainly… a change.” He sighed. “Although if we could escape the crowd, I’d appreciate it.”

Just a small comment had alerted him to all the unknowns in the crowds. It would only take one magic user with a grudge to cause chaos.

Matteusz seemed to sense his anxiety and reached for his hand, navigating them through the masses of people into a more secluded corner.

“Better?”

Charles nodded, trying to ignore how his hand was tingling. (He had once fought a magic user who shot bolts of lightning at people. It felt similar - like all his nerves were on edge.)

“I will get us new drinks.”

Charles found himself suddenly alone, in a quiet corner at the edge of everything he had ever dreamed of seeing. He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him: endless chatter, musical warm ups from the band, laughter. He could still feel the warmth of Matteusz's hand in his own.

This was a life that Charles could imagine for himself if he had been born common. Visiting the festival every year, not having to worry about meetings or magic or pleasing the Queen. Marrying for love, not power.

It was merely a fantasy - and it would only ever stay a fantasy. But it was nice to imagine otherwise.

“We have a good view of the musicians.”

Charles opened his eyes again, with Matteusz now by his side.

“Uh, yes.”

“Oh there’s April.” Matteusz pointed at the dark haired woman holding a fiddle. “She works at the palace. We should be careful though, Lord Singh is with her.”

“You know a lot about the palace.”

“They’re my friends.”

Charles wanted to ask what that was like but he didn’t want to look too naive. He busied himself by trying the ale again, but the taste hadn’t improved.

Matteusz tried his best to hide it but Charles caught the laughter behind his hand.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No.”

“I can hear you.”

Matteusz moved his hand, revealing his bright smile. It was almost enough for him to be forgiven. “Okay. Just a little. I’ve seen you drink caskets of wine in the kingdom with no problem.”

“They taste nice!”

Matteusz took a long sip of his own drink. “You’ll get used to it.”

They say in a peaceful quiet. They were positioned perfectly to watch couples dance to the music played. Now Matteusz had mentioned it, he could make out Lord Singh spinning the pretty musician girl.

“Must be nice to dance without such strict rules.”

“Yes,” Matteusz agreed, sounding a little wistful.

Charles took a longer gulp of his ale before asking: “do you have anyone to dance with? If you hadn’t escorted me?”

“Escorted?” Matteusz seemed amused. “You’re a little old for a babysitter.”

…Which wasn’t answering his question.

“But no,” he answered. “I had someone back home but I had to leave him behind.”

Him. Charles tried not to overthink it.

“Do you miss it?”

“Dancing?” Matteusz asked. “I am not very good.”

“Having someone.” He felt his face flush again. At least it was darker now and less obvious. He could always blame the ale.

“It was nice.” He looked away from the couples. “I miss other parts of home more. Like my sister. I send her gifts when I can. Like the bracelets I brought earlier. She likes to make ones like them.”

Charles felt a little foolish. “You don’t mention her a lot.”

“I miss her,” Mattesuz replied.

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling,” Charles confessed. “To share the burden of being a prince.”

“Must be lonely.”

He looked over to Matteusz, reliably by his side as always. “Not always.”

Wobbling slightly, Charles was starting to regret his second and third ales. It had taken them to finally pluck up the courage to ask Matteusz to dance with him. It had been ungraceful, yet freeing, to be spun around in hazy circles.

“I’m dizzy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Was Matteusz laughing at him? He found it more endearing than anything else. They had both let their guard down.

“I wish I was normal so we could do this everyday.”

“The festival is only once a year.”

“Then I’ll make it law to happen everyday.”

“Normal people can’t make laws.” Matteusz was definitely teasing him now. “This way.”

“I’d run away after.”

“You can’t just run away.”

Charles frowned. “You did. You left everything you knew.”

“Yeah. But it is different. They need me to be here, even if it's dangerous for me. Rhodia needs you right where you are.”

“How is it dangerous?” He asked. “Magic?”

Matteusz stopped for a moment and Charles stumbled into his back.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you from the evil magicians Matti.”

“Don’t call me that,” he replied. All the fun sucked out of the conversation suddenly.

Even in his inebriated state, Charles knew when to shut up.

“This is a bad idea.”

“Is it?”

“This shortcut I mean.” Matteusz glanced over down the steep hill. “Not when you’re like this.”

“I’m fine,” Charles shot back. He didn’t want Matteusz to think he was incapable of walking.

“Wait, don’t-” Matteusz called, his voice the last thing Charles heard before he slipped.

Charles had fallen down a hill, in the darkness of early morning, and woken up to the natural light pouring through his open curtains. He had expected the light to sting but he felt okay, minus a fogginess in his head.

Matteusz was nowhere to be seen. He was usually on time for his duties, but maybe Charles had just missed him. There was tea and breakfast on the side, fresh clothes and the open window. Charles just hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid yesterday.

(Charles could remember looking up at him, opening his mouth, a horrified expression on Matteusz face. He couldn’t remember what he said, which was somehow worse.)

He dressed himself. In the mirror, he spotted a small scratch on his forehead. (He could remember falling last night. Maybe just the stairs. He was drunk after all.)

Matteusz was still missing as Charles went about his day. He had done his lessons alone, then was served by a new servant at lunch. By the time his mother had her meetings, he was convinced Mattuesz was avoiding him. He let Councillor Ames speech wash over him, recounting the last night’s events again, trying to find where he went wrong.

Charles recalled his face when he had called him ‘Matti', his warning of caution, then a weightless falling, as if time slowed down. That part felt even blurrier, perhaps he had hit his head, even if it didn’t hurt. In fact, he hadn’t even been hungover. It was like-

“Magic,” Ames was saying, “is evil.”

(“Magic,” Charles recalled himself saying yesterday, “but you’re not evil.”)

“Yes, my lord?”

Without realising he had stood up. It wasn’t just the councillor’s eyes on him, but the whole meeting room. “Um, I agree with the councillor.”

“What was she saying?”

He winced: the queen never went easy on him. “Er.”

“Just go Charles,” she said sternly, “it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.”

“My apologies,” he said. Usually being told off like a child would be upsetting, but there was already something else on his mind.

Charles forced himself to walk out the room slowly. Once he was back in the empty hall, he took off running towards his room. He sunk into his bed, shaking, as the events of the night before finally clicked into place.

He had been falling, Mattuesz shouting something. Not for help, something else. Words he didn’t recognise.

Charles had stopped falling, more like drifting, like a feather caught in the wind. The world suddenly slowed, until he had harmlessly landed on a patch of grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been there before.

Matteusz had gotten down too, suddenly crouched in front of him. He had wiped the small scratch on his face gently and suddenly the bleeding had stopped.

“Are you okay?”

Charles was dazed. “You did something.”

“No I didn’t,” Matteusz said, too quickly. “You just got lucky.”

“No, it was you,” he had repeated, with clarity. “I was floating, it was like…”

“Don’t say it.”

But he had said it. “Magic. You have magic. But you’re not evil.”

“I’m not anything.”

“It all makes sense,” he had said, feeling suddenly sober, “all those fights we won - that was you. I thought I was special. I thought I was a hero.”

“I needed to protect you,” Matteusz whispered. “I will keep protecting you. I’m sorry.”

He had put his hands on his face and for a second Charles had thought he was going to be kissed. Instead, there was just blankness, nothing.

Matteusz had made him forget.

Charles had finally caught up with Matteusz after training with his knights. He had fought better than usual, filled with so much anger that he had even managed to beat Lord Singh.

He had been with the same musician they saw yesterday, watching from a distance.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he had suggested. The musician girl had been a stable hand and given them a horse each and they headed into the quietness of the forest.

“How’s your head?” There was a forced playfulness to Matteusz’ voice.

“Alright, considering how far I fell.”

Matteusz had stopped. “I-”

“I remember.” Charles stopped his horse and slid off him. “Have you made me forget other things?”

“No, never. I only ever used my magic to help you. Memory spells are tricky.”

“You used untested dark magic on me?”

Charles was starting to wonder if going somewhere alone with a magic user was a bad idea. If it was up to his Mother, Matteusz would be executed by the next morning. (He couldn’t let that happen. Charles couldn’t be that wrong about him.)

“It wasn’t dark magic,” Matteusz said, “no magic is dark-”

“Experience tells me otherwise. Magicians killed my Father.”

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But we are not all like that.” Matteusz stepped back, like he was the one to be afraid. “I will leave tonight. You won’t have to see me again. Please, don’t tell the queen.”

“How could you say that?” Charles asked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You have done it to others like me,” Matteusz said. He still looked scared.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me the truth?”

“It is dangerous to be magic,” he explained. “I could take no chances.”

“I understand. I have my own secrets. Even from you.”

Matteusz didn’t ask. (He wished he would. Then he could do something. One kiss, if he really was going to leave, if Charles was allowed one indulgence.)

“For what it’s worth, I wish for you to stay. I will keep your secret. You have saved my life so many times, I owe you that.”

Mattuesz looked relieved. “Thank you.”

(When Charles woke up the next morning, it was Matteusz opening the curtains and letting the light in.)

#marlie #matteusz andrzejewski #charlie smith #class bbc #class dw

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kookie-doughs · 4 years

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 11: Prepare For Trouble And Make It Double

In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day. Which was actually what's happening. So there we were, Annabeth, Percy, Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses. Percy and I walked side by side with our hand still connected. Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once. I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better. "All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything." "Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—" "What did you want me to do? Let you guys get killed? I was not going to leave Y/N." "You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine." "Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine." "Shut up, goat boy," I said. Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans." We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave." "We're a team, right?" She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. Do you want to see?

Yeah that would be nice.

It was as if it was morning, I could see everything clearly. I wandered my head to make sure I could see everything. This is cool. "You okay?" Percy asked. "Yeah," Not really a fan of the current silence I turned to Annabeth. "You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" I asked her. "No... only short field trips. My dad—" "The history professor." "Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I heard doubt in her voice. "You're pretty good with that knife," I said. "You think so?" "Yeah maybe you can teach me some tricks. "Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." Percy smiled. I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled. "You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the but..." Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured. "Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!" He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff. Seeing a tree coming up I tried to pull Percy to avoid it but Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head. I suppressed my laugh by covering my mouth which made Percy glare at me. After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue. This kid needed a double cheeseburger. >We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell. It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. To me, it looked like: ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM. "What the heck does that say?" I asked. "I don't know," Annabeth said. She loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium." Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. I crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers. "Hey..." Grover warned. "The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open." "Snack bar," I said wistfully. "Snack bar," Percy agreed. "Snack bar," Annabeth joined. "Are you three crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird." We ignored him. The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps. "Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!" We stopped at the warehouse door. "Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters." I turned to look at my knife. It had a light glow emitting from it. Probably because it was sheathed. "I think there's monsters." I was now reluctant and sided with Grover. "Grover's nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?" "Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him.. "Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are... looking at me."

"Percy, I don't think---"

"It'll be fine." Percy took my hand and went in. Be careful and don't look. Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady. >Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?" "They're... um..." Annabeth started to say. "We're orphans," I said. "Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!" "We got separated from our caravan," Percy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?" "Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area. We thanked her and went inside. Annabeth muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" "Your head is full of kelp." The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. I was anxious so I tighten my grip on Percy. It's stupid for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because we were hungry. For a child of Athena, Annabeth sure isn't making wise decisions. I mean yeah I agree, you've never smelled Aunty Em's burgers. The aroma was like laughing gas in the dentist's chair—it made everything else go away. But Grover's nervous whimpers, and the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, to add the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us. Made me more cautious. Sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front. "Please, sit down," Aunty Em said "Awesome," Percy said. "Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am." Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans." "Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said. Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, I had to turn to Annabeth to check if there was something wrong with her.. Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child." I wonder how she knew Annabeth's name, even though we had never introduced ourselves. "Percy, I want to leave..." I whispered. "Just a few bites Y/N. Don't worry." He gave me a reassuring pat. Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries. I wasn't gulfing down my food like Percy was. Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. Annabeth slurped her shake. "What's that hissing noise?" he asked. I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head. "Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover." "I take vitamins. For my ears." "That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax." I don't like it here. I'm scared. Be wary of all things. Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. "So, you sell gnomes," I said, trying to sound interested. "Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know." "A lot of business on this road?" "Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get. My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified."Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face." "You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked. "Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Annabeth had stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters?" "It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price." Annabeth gave me a look of worry. I knew she realized something. "Percy?" I shook him to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting." Grover was eating the waxed paper off the tray now, but if Aunty Em found that strange, she didn't say anything. "Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told Annabeth again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke Annabeth's cheek, but Annabeth stood up abruptly. "We really should go." "Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!" "Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?" "A pose?" Annabeth asked warily. "A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children." Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—" "Sure we can," Percy said. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?" "Percy, I don't want to..." "It's just a photo guys." "Indeed it is just a photo Y/N," the woman purred. "No harm." I could tell Annabeth didn't like it as well, but she allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues. Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girls in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side." "Not much light for a photo," I remarked. But joke's on her I could see quite clearly. Don't look. "Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?" "Where's your camera?" Grover asked. Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?" Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand." "Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear." She still had no camera in her hands. "Percy—" Annabeth said. "I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil...." "Percy, something's wrong," I insisted. "Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?" "That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped. DON'T LOOK. Annabeth turned to my direction, "Look away from her!" she then shouted. She whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanished. Her invisible hands pushed Grover and and I pulled Percy with me. We were on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet. I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another. "Percy, we have to move!" I shook him. But he was too dazed to move. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails. Percy was about to look higher then her hands and I instinctively covered his eyes. "Don't look!" More rasping—the sound of tiny snakes, right above me, from... from about where Aunty Em's head would be. "Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers. "Percy we have to move please!" "Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she said soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up." "Percy please!" Percy pushed my hand away and looked to one side. I turned to look as well and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball. I could see Aunty Em's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents. Aunty Em. Aunty "M." How did Medusa die in the myth? But I couldn't think. Something told me that in the myth Medusa had been asleep when she was attacked by my namesake, Perseus. She wasn't anywhere near asleep now. If she wanted, she could take those talons right now and rake open my face. "The Gray-Eyed One did this to me," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this." "Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Y/N carry Percy!" "Silence!" Medusa snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer. We won't even hurt, Y/N." I swung Percy's arm around my shoulder. But he was too heavy. "No," he muttered trying to make his legs move... "Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain." "Y/N!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a two-hundred-pound hummingbird in a nosedive. Grover yelled, "Duck!" I turned, and there he was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone. "Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!" I tackled Percy to the other side. Thwack! Then Medusa roared with rage. "You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!" "That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. Pulling along an out of a dazed Percy we scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass. Ker-whack! "Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting. Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Y/N! Percy!" Percy jumped so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. "Jeez! Don't do that!" Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. 'You have to cut her head off." "What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here." "Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance." "What? I can't—" "Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?" She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—" "Would you speak English?" "I am!" She tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly." "Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!" "Roooaaarrr!" "Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch. "Hurry," Annabeth told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash." Percy took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide showed. He turned to me and gave the glass then offered a hand. "Percy you can't be seriously bring her along!?" "I'll go with him." Taking his hand, we followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair. I raised the glass so I could guide us. I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her. Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!" Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, "Hey!" We advanced on her. I had let go of Percy's hand to bring out my knife. So if she charged, I could help Percy. But she let us approach—twenty feet, ten feet. I could see the reflection of her face now. Surely it wasn't really that ugly. The green swirls of the gazing ball must be distorting it, making it look worse. "You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't." I could tell he hesitated. From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!" Medusa cackled. "Too late." She lunged at him with her talons. I ran and raised my knife to block her talons, Percy then swung his sword, then we heard a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating. Something fell to the ground next to my foot. It took all my willpower not to look. I could feel warm ooze soaking into my sock, little dying snake heads tugging at my shoelaces. "Oh, yuck," Percy said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. "Mega-yuck." Annabeth came up next to us, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil. She said, "Don't move." >Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice. "Are you okay?" Percy asked me, his voice trembling. "Yeah," I decided. "Why didn't... why didn't the head evaporate?" "Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," she said. "Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you." Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head. "The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man." He managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He snatched his shoes out of the air. "I didn't know Grover got Luke's shoes." Percy recapped his sword. "I can't fly." He shrugged. Together, the four of us stumbled back to the warehouse We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak. Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him." "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa." Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice, she said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'" "Forget it," I said. "You're impossible." "You're insufferable." "You're—" "You're both loud and stupid." I growled. "Yeah!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?" I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS! I was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for this whole quest, for getting us blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out from camp. At this rate, we'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice. What had Medusa said? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Percy and I shared a look. We got up. "I'll be back." "Percy, Y/N," Annabeth called after me. "What are you—" We searched the back of the warehouse until I found Medusa's office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone's garden. According to one freight bill, the Underworld's billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. I folded up the bill and stuffed it in my pocket. In the cash register I found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins. "Found one." Percy called. We went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip: The Gods >Mount Olympus 600th Floor, >Empire State Building New York, NY With best wishes, PERCY JACKSON <3 Y/N L/N "They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent." I poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as I closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop! "I am impertinent," Percy said. I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize. She didn't. She seemed resigned to the fact that we had a major talent for ticking off the gods. "Great, well Fred and George," she muttered. "We need a new plan."

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