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#i love you and your mind you're very brilliant
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Okay so why did nobody told me about the new 5sos song older????? Why do I just get to find out about it???? but for real emma I have just listened to it for the first time and I'm losing my shit, I am going insane. I don't even know where to begin!!!! The lyrics (How dare they????) Luke's voice in addition to sierra's????? The pianooooooo!! I'll need some time to process, probably listen to it couple of times more, then send you my thoughts. I don't wanna get older, I am going to cry. Anyway, allow me to go insane in your inbox I'm sorry but the feeling of listening to this song for the first time is indescribable. Feeling like this:
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mais i am so delighted by this, pls DO go insane in my inbox <33 i would love love LOVE to hear all your thoughts on older!!! it really is one of those songs that u need to sit down and just properly Listen To for a few hours, at least, just to try and comprehend the meaning and magnitude of those amazing lyrics (especially paired with the piano, ur so right i was going ~feral~ over that when i first heard it). this was one of those songs that they dropped in the middle of the night for me (yay! i love time zones!), so i woke up and had to deal with this song at first thing in the morning, which predictably did not go too well. (literally could not stop crying i was such a fucking mess)
there's something so incredibly powerful and beautiful abt luke and sierra's voices together, idk exactly what it is but they just go really well together?? they sound lovely together and they just ARE lovely together and i could literally start crying rn if i think abt all this too much so im gonna stop now but THANK YOU SM FOR THIS!!!!!!! i love hearing from you!!!! pls feel free to share any thoughts you have i would be beyond happy to talk with you!!!!
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fairy-verse · 1 year
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Would you guys have any in detail description about Nightmare and Killer's appearance? Also would you be opposed to fanart during these early stages <:)
Oh, Scoby, I’d really love to tell you all about it, but you’d have to wait just a liiiittle bit. Nightmare’s reference will soon be revealed, it just needs some details added to it, but Dii and I are still working on Killer. He’s currently in the first developing stage, so we’re not quite sure what he’ll look like yet, though I could say that it includes a lean body, somewhat revealing clothes (he’s proud of his appearance), wings that bear the resemblance of a dragonfly, though with details that hint at his autumn fairy side, and of course, red ecto, though if you’re more of a bones-only kind of person, then hell yeah, go for them bones!
Error, Ink, and Nightmare’s references will be published quite soon, so at least you’ll have that. I am sorry for making you wait, but this AU is still in its early developing stages, so unless something is published here or on AO3, then nothing is quite set in stone yet.
However, that doesn’t mean that you cannot make your own representations whilst you wait! The Firstborn and their season fairies are all represented in a more feminine manner, but everyone is welcome to make them appear more masculine if they want to. I am absolutely not opposed to fanart in these very early stages of development, though I am aware that I’m not giving you a lot to work with.
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fatherofmachine · 2 years
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(  Originally answered here,  regarding Finch’s first encounter with @analoginterface​‘s Root.  I figured I ought to re-post this as meta-ish thing,  like I did with the Reese one.  I also tweaked this one a bit  &  added more. )
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FEAR.  Fear,  anger  &  a sickening disgust was what he’d first associated with her,  the moment  his gaze had met hers.  The sharp  fascination  &  curiosity that would eventually  develop wouldn’t emerge until MUCH later.  Shock  &  terror  ripped through him as the sound of gunfire TEARING through flesh  & bone violently  wrought Harold’s world,  his senses,  to a brief stand-still.  Alicia,  the person he’d been speaking to mere seconds ago,  was abruptly,  lifelessly  SLUMPED against the passenger seat  &  door—–Harold couldn’t see  the blood,  not from this angle,  but the nauseating hot,  copper-like scent of it left him with NO DOUBTS of it being there.  Movement outside of the passenger window had him turning  without thinking about it,  blue eyes WIDE.  He only just recognized his mouth had fallen open with shock  &  he pressed thin lips together tightly.
For a moment,  all he could hear was a dull RINGING  & any other sound was muffled  by it ;  he’d only acknowledged the sound of the back door of the car opening  & closing AFTER her  voice rose from the silence.
❛ I thought she’d  NEVER shut up, ❜
For a BRIEF few seconds,  he couldn’t  comprehend what it was she’d said—–NOT that he couldn’t hear her,  the ringing was beginning to diminish  &  he could hear the words  just fine.  It was the CASUAL sound of her voice,  how she spoke as though they  ( she  &  Harold ) shared some sort of private JOKE.  One arm still extended outward behind him,  that same wrist settled upon the steering wheel uselessly whilst his other hand GRIPPED the center console to keep himself turned.  His head  & neck had JERKED painfully in response to the gunshot  & now,  the lasting pain of the movement began to seep into the rest of his upper body … but,  Harold was FAR too preoccupied to notice just yet.
TURING ( or,  whatever her real name was ) was practically beaming at him,  the look of it almost CHILD-LIKE with how manic it appeared.  His own dark brows were narrowing,  as were his eyes  & his mind was WORKING again,  moving incredibly fast,  as if to catch up from the momentary pause.
❛ So nice to finally meet you,  Harold.   You can call me  ROOT. ❜
With her INTRODUCTION,  Root  moved in close,  her firearm pointed directly at him  & her wide SMILE never faltered.  Harold swiftly began to solve the puzzle of how they reached this point  & the longer he looked  at her,  the more HORRIFIED he became.  Once he finally spoke,  his voice sounded STRANGE to his own ears ;  almost detached,  still riddled with pure shock  &  he could hear the latter within his own ragged breathing.   The DISGUST that had long-since begun to churn within him spiked  at the sight of how her DELIGHTED smile had shifted into something mischievously smug.
❝ … You hired HR yourself ?   You were willing to RISK your  own life  to FIND me ?  ❞
Her dark gaze flickered downward,  but only for a few seconds.  
❛ I did this ... corporate training thing once, ❜
Root began,  barely  rotating the firearm held tightly within her hand as if they were having a CASUAL conversation rather than the reality .... which was her essentially holding him at gun point.
❛  I was blackmailing the CEO,  long story,  but  .... they did this exercise called the trust fall.  Where you close your eyes and  f a l l   ... &  wait for someone to CATCH you.  I knew  you boys wouldn't let me down. ❜
She’d trusted  that he  & Mr. Reese would save her life,  she’d had FAITH in them.  Coming from her,  it only TAINTED the statement  &  Harold simply leaned farther away.
❛ C’mon,  Harold.   We’ve got  SO MUCH to  talk about. ❜
Root nearly BOUNCED in her apparent excitement,  her firearm still pointed in a silent threat …  &  Harold understood the command  without her needing to specify further.  She seemed to take notice of the body then,  albeit …  & BEFORE they departed,  Root discarded Alicia’s lifeless body on the concrete ground bellow,   MUCH to Harold’s disgust.
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marvelsswansong · 6 months
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melting snow
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summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.
tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)
☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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one: subtle praise
At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.
"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.
But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.
"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.
"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.
So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.
Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.
"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.
"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."
He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.
"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."
Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.
"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."
It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.
A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.
"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.
"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."
He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.
"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.
"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.
The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.
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two: soft touches
Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.
After all, what is love if not vulnerability?
And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?
So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.
He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.
He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.
He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."
Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.
Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.
It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.
"I owe you, Coriolanus."
Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.
Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.
Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.
"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.
"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.
Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.
"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.
"O-okay."
The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.
"Are you sure you won't be cold?"
He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.
"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."
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three: nicknames
Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.
Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -
He almost never calls you by your name.
Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.
"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"
Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.
Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.
"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.
"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."
"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.
"Come on you silly man."
He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.
Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.
"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."
"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.
"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"
When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.
"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.
"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."
That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.
"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.
"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.
My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.
Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.
As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.
You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.
Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.
And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.
But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.
It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.
"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.
"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.
"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."
Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.
His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.
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four: lavish gifts and deep marks
Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.
Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.
"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.
His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.
"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.
You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.
"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."
Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...
He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.
So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.
You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.
You scrunch your face at the odd question.
"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"
Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.
"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."
And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.
Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.
"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.
"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."
You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.
After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.
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five: killing for you
Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).
At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.
No mercy, no hesitation.
After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.
The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.
He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.
Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.
The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.
The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.
The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.
And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.
"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.
"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.
"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."
Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.
Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.
"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.
"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"
And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.
It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.
"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.
"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.
"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"
He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.
"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.
But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.
"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."
No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.
"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.
"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"
"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"
"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"
The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.
"Corio? Love?"
The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.
Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.
"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.
You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.
"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"
"Hm?"
It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.
"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"
He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.
"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.
"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.
Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.
"I suppose."
The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.
"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.
The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.
"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"
He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.
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a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.
please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!
ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺
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verstarppen · 8 months
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omfg i love your fics they’re so funny 😭😭 i had an idea for a max fic that i think you would do so well 🫶 so like she’s his teammate and she has a bf (no idea who but prob another athlete or something since they tend to kinda be fboys 👀 but not another driver please because those dynamics make me cringe in second hand embarrassment 🙏) then he like cheats on her publicly, but she decides to live in idgafistan and max helps her make her ex jealous 😝 but he’s like actually been into her for a really long time and everyone ships them and stuff and then he bags her with his irresistible chronically offline awkward white boy rizz 💋
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summary; cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life
pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]
warnings; suggestive language, swearing
a/n; DISCLAIMER the boyfriend is made up and also a sims 2 reference, if by chance there is a real tennis player by the name of Dominic Lothario im so sorry sir this was not written with you in mind ALSO this is my VERY sneaky way of telling everyone my favorite song is trophäe by paula carolina so naturally i had to shove the word trophy everywhere to justify using lyrics as the title I HOPE I DID YOUR PROMPT JUSTICE also i skipped over singapore because we don't talk about singapore
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liked by ynln7, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 2,104,962 others
maxverstappen1 The only time I've cheated.
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feeltheorange WHAT DID HE SAYYYY
meepshoemaker the double take i just did cracked my neck
yukinator22 NAHHHHHHHHH
albogeant BRO DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER TIME TO RECOVER LMAOOOOOOOO
ynln7 everyone has permission to laugh i came up with the caption
pierregasly Thank god charles_leclerc I'm going to hell I laughed before I saw your comment pierregasly Me too ynln7 assholes (affectionately)
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liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 4,592,577 others
ynln7 anyway
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christianhorner This is not the team bonding I was talking about
charles_leclerc Shut up, some of us have waited years for this pierregasly Seconded danielricciardo Third...ed?
simplyclerc LET HIM COOK
lionkingseb max verstapprizz
mcmango he saw an opportunity and he took it
redbullpapaya i manifested this with magic beyond the human comprehension
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liked by maxverstappen1, ynln7, christianhorner and 2,102,094 others
redbullracing An immaculate performance today from @ maxvestappen1 and @ ynln7 that’s a 6th Constructors’ Championship for the team!! 🏆 CONGRATULATIONS, WORLD CHAMPIONS!!
view all 869,291 comments
super_max they know they ate
staraikkonen the blueprint for all powercouples
shadownorris LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO
angelricciardo talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference
dominic_lothario 👎
redbullracing Shouldn't you be looking for a job? What are you doing in our comments.
kirbyvettel MAXY/N SWEEP
maxverstappen1 The trophy is not my only win this week @ ynln7
ynln7 ok now let me pass you maxverstappen1 No 🧡 You're pretty in p2
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 693,420 others
ynln7 celebrating the win the RIGHT way (playing f1 2023)
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easportsf1 Amen
ynln7 LMAO
maxverstappen1 I let you win
ynln7 bruised ego alert
christianhorner Such a RESPONSIBLE team, aren't we?
orangleclerc THE T-SHIRT
strawberryrosberg Did they turn down the afterparty invite for this because mad respect
charles_leclerc Tell me your record, I'll beat it
ynln7 in your dreams, leclerc maxverstappen1 Beat us in real life first charles_leclerc First of all.
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
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Text
TW: Irrational jealousy
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"Here. You left this at my apartment"
Stealing your gaze from the book, you look at your boyfriend who's holding a wine red lacy bra in his hands, stretching it toward you. Unlike his usual attitude, GOJO doesn't look much lively at the moment. In fact, he looks somewhat... meticulous, like he's operating a very dangerous experience and is about to witness the outcome of his efforts.
Having your eyebrows knotted together, you wordlessly take the bra in your hands, the base of your fingers gently but painfully rubbing against the soft fabric. Gojo tries his best not to let his smirk break out when you give him a quizzical look and squeeze the lingerie in your hands.
"This isn't mine"
There it is. Victory. The awaitened result of his brilliant plan to give you a taste of your medicine.
Gojo cups his mouth while expanding his fingers to give you a better look of his fake gasp through the gap between them, humming abruptly. He carefully takes a second look at the bra, then begins to mutter in a not so low voice.
"Ah— well, this is awkward" He looks at your bewildered expression from the corner of his eye and continues. "I didn't want you to find out. Not this way"
The logic behind this clever act was easy to understand. You chose to spend your day offs with your stupid, lame old friend from college instead of your incredible, handsome, mind blowingly gorgeous boyfriend, and this is your punishment. Your reasoning was too dumb and made up. Huh, how could you even look him in the eye and say you're doing this because he's just gotten back from Austria and needs you to show him around town and introduce him to your colleagues? You should've just shoved a dagger in his aching heart and told him that you dont love him anymore. So yes, you deserve this; and as they all say, revenge is a dish best served cold.
"But you see, I'm not the only one to blame in this. You are too. You were the one who left me in the dark hanging to go on a romantic getaway with that good for nothing punk"
"Satoru—"
"Let me finish. I know that it was just for three days and you did nothing but work together, but I'm a man y/n! A proud, strong grown man who has his own needs"
"Satoru—"
"I'm not an animal y/n, but how do you expect me to close my eyes and pretend like nothing's wrong? Because it is, and since I'm also an honest man, I couldn't bare with the feeling of getting abandoned by my own woman. You and I were supposed to rule the world, but you never wanted what we were—"
"Satoru!!"
Gojo grits his teeth and looks at you with slight irritation, wondering what's so important that has to interrupt his dramatic show; but his liveliness and acting power vanishes in a glance when his eyes land on the part of the bra you're pointing at while holding it up.
"There's a price tag on this"
Oh.
The small, round label is linked to the inside of the bra, which is probably why Gojo had forgotten to remove it. Yes, it was totally that; not because he was too focused on his dialogues that he forgot to even check the bra out.
Gojo stares at your jumped up eyebrows and annoyed expression, flashing you one of his most charming smiles; Only this time he can't make it as shameless as it usually is.
"Eh, I guess this shows how much I actually love you and care about you"
"You bought this two sizes bigger than mine you asshole"
"My bad, I kinda got carried away"
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seiwas · 7 months
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₊˚⊹。by expensive tiles and elite gym pools | gojo satoru
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wc: 935
summary: you visit gojo during one of his training sessions for his upcoming swim meet.
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns stated, only gendered term is ‘boyfriend’ pertaining to gojo, swimmer!satoru, non-curse au
a/n: wrote this as a lil surprise blurb bday gift for @kedsandtubesocks (but it got longer than expected... oops) i know how much you love your sports aus erika!! also inspired by some swim!satoru thoughts i had a few days ago!
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You hear a splash! the moment you enter the doors of the gym pool.
The lanes are empty save for one, vast crystal blue shimmering as it reflects the light passing through the glass ceiling. You don't know much about pool construction, but the tiles here look clean, with each edge perfectly cut to fit seamlessly into the other; the markings of luxury, expensive but simple enough not to distract—
—which is what you shouldn't be doing walking into this exclusive gym pool reserved only for the best of the best, the elite. Top tier professionals.
Ones like your gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.
He's approaching the end of his lap when you settle into a squat in front of the lane he’s on, towel hanging off your shoulders as you cross your arms over your knees, wiggling your toes as you wait. The moment he breaks through the surface, you can't hide the smile on your face.
You haven’t seen him in days. 
Everything about him feels like he was made for this—how the ripples make way to accommodate his breathing, the dips and curves of muscle on his shoulders, flexing; how his fingers glide his goggles atop his head without resistance, smoothly. Even with his hair held back by the elastic, the few wet clumps that fall out still frame his face so perfectly. 
It's unbelievable how your boyfriend can look so much like the water he swims in—brilliant and white like glimmers of reflected light, and clean blue, striking, always glistening the moment your eyes catch his. 
Sometimes, looking at him feels a lot like drowning.
"How did I do?" he smirks, squinting into what would have been a suave wink, if not for a drop of water causing an involuntary eye-twitch. 
He already knows the answer, but you indulge him anyway, "Good, as always."
"Just good?" he pouts.
There's a droplet of water hanging by his lips, desperately clinging as it trembles while he breathes. You know he knows you're looking by the way he runs his tongue over it, taunting. 
You narrow your gaze and shrug, teasing, "Maybe you missed something."
He swims closer to the ledge you're squatting by, palms pressing on tile to hoist himself up. You try not to fixate on the way his triceps flex as they hold him up, but he lives for this kind of attention from you—he’d do anything to keep you looking at him the way you do. 
Half of his left leg remains submerged when he settles himself on the edge of the pool, the other one bent as he tilts his head in mock wonder, “Did I?”
It's your turn to pout now as he pretends not to know what you’re after, and you're about to say something on it until—
"S'toru!"
—you scream, pulled off-balance with your heart nearly dropping to your stomach at the fear of being dragged into the water. Except you aren't, because with a simple tug at the towel around your neck, he's managed to tip you over to fall into his lap, steadying you against his very wet and very broad chest instead.  
You smack his shoulders, mouth agape and eyes wide as you push back to look at him. He looks pleased with himself, almost laughing even as his arms settle on your hips, grabbing the flesh and squeezing.
"Mean," you scrunch your nose, and he chuckles.
"Excuse me," he holds you closer, "who hurt my feelings first?"
You roll your eyes fondly, sliding your hands to clasp at the back of his neck, "Okay, big baby."
"Do you want your kiss or not?"
You glare at him, lips pursed tight, "As if you don't—"
So he does—kiss you, lips soft and a little damp. You can taste the chlorine from the hours he's already spent here prior to you coming, but it's comforting, a taste entirely too familiar that you sometimes find yourself looking for it during the long stretches he’s on break. 
He kisses you because you're right, something was missing, and it's always this same thing.
You smile against his lips before breaking away, heart gleaming like pool water. The moment is tender, soft, touched by the magic of being together amidst expensive tiles and elite gym pools.
But you should have known better than to trust your pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru—full-time athlete, and part-time the most insufferable person you’ve ever met.
Because with the way his arm has been wrapping itself inch-by-inch around your waist, he's managed to shift his body back to face the pool, only to dump the both of you back in the water, together.
"Satoru!"
He laughs, voice carrying throughout the gym. You grumble about still having your slippers on and he dives under to get it off you, throwing it to the side when he emerges. 
"Race me!" he ducks to the other lane, sliding his goggles back on before shooting you a thumbs up.
And you’d think this silly of him, really, because this is your back-to-back-to-back gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend asking you, a survival swimmer at best, to race him—but you can tell this is his cover for you. 
You’d get in trouble if anyone caught you here in the first place. His schedule's been tight lately, locked down with the need to focus for his upcoming swim meet. Being focused meant no distractions, and you being the worst of them all meant less time spent with you, too. 
Still, he'd insisted that you come today, so.
You can't technically be a distraction if you're going to 'train' with him anyway, right?
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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juleswritesstuff · 15 days
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Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?
warnings: smut
Just a little thought I had today. Let me know if you want a part two with the reader and the boys' roles reversed, I'll be more than happy to comply 😉
Enjoy💗
James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough. 
I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.
‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.
‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.
‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.
‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.
‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.
‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.
‘Are you sure it was ok ?’
‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’
‘Are you serious ?’
‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’
‘What do you mean, baby?’
‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’ 
Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.
With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.
‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.
‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.
‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.
‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.
‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.
‘I love you, you know that right ?’
‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’ 
‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’
‘But why ?’
‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.
Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.
But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.
He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.
‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.
‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.
‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.
‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.
‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.
‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.
‘Was I good ?’
‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’
‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.
Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.
You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.
I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.
‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.
‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.
‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.
‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.
‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.
‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’
‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’
‘Promise me’
‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’
‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.
Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.
I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is  their fault, they could mind their own damn business.
‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.
‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.
‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.
‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.
‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.
‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.
‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’
‘You did what ?! Barty !’
‘What ? Is it not true ?’
‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’
‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’
‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.
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drakoneve · 8 months
Text
A Dragon's Wrath
Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.
pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey
a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair
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In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.
Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.
This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.
At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.
You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.
You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.
Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.
That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.
When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.
"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."
Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."
You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."
"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"
The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.
"I would like nothing more, Ser."
After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.
Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.
Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.
Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.
Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.
She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.
The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.
"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."
Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?
Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.
Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.
You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.
Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.
"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"
But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."
You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.
He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.
"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.
Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"
"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"
Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.
Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."
"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"
"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."
Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"
"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"
You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.
"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."
Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.
Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.
Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.
It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.
"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."
He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.
Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."
"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."
He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."
As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.
You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.
"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.
"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."
Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."
Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.
You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."
A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.
Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.
After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.
As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.
Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.
Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.
Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."
"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.
"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."
Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.
"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."
Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."
Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"
Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.
"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."
He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."
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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.
His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.
"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."
You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.
"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."
Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.
"What have you planned, my love?"
You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."
The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.
You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.
"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.
Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."
You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.
"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."
Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."
You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."
Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."
"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."
And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.
You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"
He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.
"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."
So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.
Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.
Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.
Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.
"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."
Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"
"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."
You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.
Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.
"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."
You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.
You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.
The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.
"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."
He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."
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mochinomnoms · 14 days
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I have been having this thought for days now and want to know what you think.
This is before ptm Jade and Yuu are together, it's Also before Riddle and Floyd are together.
Mama and Papa Leach are coming to visit there boys at school and of course they know all about Yuu and Riddle who know nothing about them. I imagine shenanigans would insuu. Like Mama and Papa Leach trying to set up there boys and just embarrassing them in general.
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Their parents are very perceptive, and they know their own sons quite well. Despite their best efforts to hide it, and thanks to the twins' proclivity to embarrassing the other whenever possible, they both know specifically who their sons are fond of.
Mama Leech loves picking fun at Jade for his shyness with his crush. Granted, he's much more like her when it comes to interacting with the subject of his affections: coy, quiet, and sly. Waiting for the right moment to strike. In her case, it was a strike of jealousy that spurred her to claim her husband by kidnapping him and dragging him home. Though, it can't really be called a kidnapping when he was so eager to let her take him hostage.
But she notices how shy Jade is around Yuu, something that no one but those closes to him would notice. To others, he's his same polite, maybe a bit mean, self. But to her, she can see how gentle he is with Yuu, how his gaze lingers on their form longer than considered polite, and how his lips quirk up every so often with them. It's cute, but boring! She's wondering why he doesn't just pick them up and toss them in the sea to take home like Chinese take out. Just, swoop them up! Mama Leech forgets that that's not necessarily a custom for humans (or a good chunk of merfolk to be honest).
Jade knows what his mother thinks of romance, and her habit of becoming jealous. So he's not keen to let her around Yuu, especially considering the numerous amount of friends and general attention they get from others at NRC. In her mind, Jade should make a statement in front of everyone that Yuu would appreciate. After all, he must have studied them like she did her husband, so he must know them very intimately and what they like! But if he refuses? Well, time to take things in her own hands and start making offhanded comments about how fond Jade is of them, how much she raised him to be a doting partner, and that their home under the sea can just be soooo lonely! She wishes that he'd bring home a sweet partner to fill up the space, just like them :).
On the other side, it shouldn't come as a surprise then that Papa Leech is much more like Floyd: outspoken, attached, teasing, but ultimately won't make the first move. As much as he liked to chase after his wife and take over her attention, Papa Leech wouldn't make the move to make her his. Instead, he wanted her to chase after him, and was very excited when she kidnapped him for herself. It was practically a dream come true! Floyd is very similar, in that he likes Riddle's attention and reactions on him as often as possible. He's always been fond of excitable and expressive things, and Riddle (though not a thing) is one of the most expressive and eye-catching people he's ever met. Plus, he's so red! Floyd never knew how brilliant the color red could be, the color muted under the sea. Riddle has him quite enamored, though he's quite unaware.
Papa Leech thinks it's funny that Floyd can be so outspoken and social, and yet his crush have no clue that he's in love. Even more so after her got beat up by Riddle! You're telling him that the tiny classmate of yours that tossed you across the room on orientation was not only this tiny thing, but that he did that and didn't immediately claim Floyd as his mate? Humans are so strange in their courting customs. Papa Leech is just as “tactful” as his wife, funny enough, making small comments to Riddle about how much Floyd talks about him, how he's so impressed how determined he is, how strong he is, etc. Ironically, Papa Leech is Floyd's best bet in getting Riddle to fall for him, as Riddle tends to just assume the worst intentions from Floyd. But hearing how…sincere Floyd is, and the embarrassed look and pink cheeks on his face as he tries to get his father to stop, Riddle might be inclined to think more of Floyd's actions.
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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months
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I see you have requests opened! If you don’t mind, I’d love an Ace one.
You’re a mermaid who rescues ace when he falls overboard drunk one night. His brilliant idea is to keep falling overboard to keep being rescued by you to get your attention cuz he can’t think of any other way. The crew thinks he’s insane and stands by in case he actually doesn’t get saved. To the point reader is like you do know there are other ways to see me besides trying to kill yourself?
this is actually such a funny and cute idea, i love it XD sorry it took so long, and i hope you like it!
taglist - @kabloswrld
(i'm so sorry i forgot i had someone to tag! if anyone else wants to be added just let me know!)
just call me, idiot
Portgas D. Ace x Mermaid!Reader
summary - idiot Ace <3
warnings - mentions of drowning, one joke about Ace trying to kill himself
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You've heard them every night for the past week.
Whenever you swam up to the surface to look at the stars, the boisterous laughter and obnoxious chatter of men partying the night away aboard their ship met your ears. It was annoying, to say the least, but you wouldn't dare risk being ensnared by them for their amusement by calling them out for it.
That is, of course, until one of their crewmembers changed your mind about them.
"Man overboard!"
"The dumbass!"
"He can't swim!"
Your attention was caught one night when those panicked comments filled the air, and you looked towards the ship to see someone struggling in the water nearby. Against your better judgement, you swam over quickly and hooked your arms under the man's armpits, lifting him above the water so he could breathe. Once he was done spluttering and coughing up water, and you got a good look at him, you blushed.
He was handsome, extremely handsome. Dark hair stuck to his pale face, cute freckles dotting his cheeks. His eyes were bright with mischief, but when he smiled at you you couldn't help but think he looked angelic.
"A mermaid!" He gasped, eyes brightening even more. "This must be my lucky night." And he gave you a drunken smile, making you sigh.
You waited patiently for someone to come down to get him, keeping him afloat in the meantime since you couldn't very well climb aboard. Eventually they dropped a rowboat, and you carefully settled the now passed out man into it. You stayed to watch them pull him up, hearing shouts of 'thank you' but all you could focus on was how pretty that man was.
And how you hoped to see him again soon.
You got your wish the very next night, because Ace couldn't get you out of his head. He had been drunk, sure, but he definitely remembered seeing a mermaid. And he wanted to see you again, but he just didn't know how to get a mermaid's attention.
"You must have hit your head pretty hard to think you saw a mermaid!" Marco teased him, making the others laugh. None of them believed Ace, and every single one of them considered the idea absurd and insane - even more so since Ace is known for pulling pranks.
"But I did!" He insisted, pouting.
"Ace, there is no way you could have seen a mermaid," Marco sounded worried now. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," the 2nd division commander grumbled. "But I'll prove it."
So his brilliant idea to prove it? To pretend he was drunk again and fall overboard, so you could come and save him again.
You came to his rescue again, sure enough, but this time Ace could see you clearly and he was awestruck by your beauty. For once the talkative commander was stunned into silence, and he just stared at you for the longest time until you blushed and looked away.
"We need to stop meeting like this," you told him, laughing softly. "You need to be more careful."
"You're so beautiful," he ignored your warning, smiling like a lovestruck sailor - which he was. "Really, really beautiful."
You blushed some more, "Because I'm a mermaid."
"I'd like to think that even if you weren't, I'd still have fallen for you."
Your eyes widened at his words, butterflies blooming in your gut. Your face flushed a bright red, and for a moment you were speechless. Then you remembered he belonged on land, and quickly helped him back to his ship.
"You should stop falling into the sea," you told him, "You're a devil fruit user aren't you? You could die."
"It would be worth it to see you again," he smiled, and you were concerned that he was actually serious.
"Just go," you laughed.
"Not without getting your name," he replied. "Please?"
You sighed, "It's (Name)."
"Pretty," he grinned. "I'm Ace."
And once he was gone up again, you couldn't help but feel a longing for the man you couldn't have. Little did you know, he was thinking the exact same about you. You never left each other's minds, and while you could only wish to see him again, Ace made it his personal mission to see you whenever he could.
He ignored your words and kept falling into the ocean, so much so that it became a habit of his, just to see you. You could tell soon enough that he was doing it on purpose and wasn't really drunk, but he would never listen when you told him to stop. What made it even funnier, though, was that you could see his crewmates gather around every time he committed to this dramatic method, all of them ready to jump in and stop the dumbass from drowning if needs be. They clearly still assumed he was insane.
"Ace," you giggled one night after saving him again, "There are better ways to see me, you know."
"Like how?" He pouted.
"You could just call me, idiot," you laughed, handing him a shell. "Just blow into that and I'll come. You don't have to try and kill yourself to see me."
He chuckled, holding the shell close, "Fine, I'll stop. I think my crew is starting to worry that I've completely lost it. They stand by waiting to see if one of them needs to jump in." He laughed, then gave you a warm smile, "But my hero never fails to rescue me."
You blushed, looking down shyly, "Well it would be a shame to let such a handsome sailor drown."
"You think I'm handsome?" He smirked, moving closer. The two of you were sitting in the rowboat his crew lowered for you, so it was easy for you to be this close without him drowning.
"I do," you blushed more.
His smile only widened before he leaned in and slowly captured your lips with his, one his warm hands gently gripping your chin as he kissed you. The butterflies returned, and you kissed him back just as slowly and sweetly as your hand rested on his arm.
"So we don't need to keep standing here every time the idiot throws himself overboard?" Someone called from above, breaking your kiss and making you both laugh.
"Not anymore, no. Because the idiot will NOT keep throwing himself overboard," you responded, smiling.
"But-"
"It's not worth dying Ace!"
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bitterchocoo · 5 months
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Hello!!Haha, I'm very glad that you liked my idea with Argenti! I don't want to impose too much, but I have so many ideas! For example, I have this idea - A reader from the Genius Society who is very interested in Doctor Ratio.
Again, if you are not interested, you don’t have to do it!
-Anon 🌾
A Waste of Talent
Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as X [Reverse: 1999]
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Are you sure you're not a mind reader? I swear I was working on this while making that Argenti one. Where are the cameras?? Did we met before??
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The Genius Society is known for many things. Their intelligence, their ambitions, their determination.
Accomplishing things beyond mere humans.
And yet... There is always one odd duckling in every group..
.
.
What a waste of talent...
That is the first thing Dr. Ratio thought when he met [Name].
This man.. this researcher... this brilliant, and intelligent researcher...
Why is he even doing this?! He could be so much more and yet he continues to lay around, doing aimless research, and making useless inventions!
Why?! Why would he waste that genius brain of his?!
"Honestly," He stated, his voice shaking with fury, "You should be ashamed of yourself."
He took a deep breath to try and control himself, but the heat of his anger still burned hotly within him.
"You are squandering a once-in-a-generation opportunity to become an intellectual powerhouse," Dr. Ratio continued, his voice dripping with frustration. "What a shame."
The researcher in question merely smiles at the other's reaction as his eyes drift to the clipboard in his hand. To be honest.. he doesn't care. He doesn't care how he's "not using his full potential" in fact, he's quite happy with what he's doing now. Even if some people branded his inventions as "useless."
Plus...
Dr. Ratio's reactions are always a sight he loves to see~ the confusion mixed with frustration. What a sight to see on a man whose intelligence could rival a member of the Genius Society. [Name] had always found Dr. Ratio to be an intriguing man and even with those harsh words being directed towards him, [Name] still found him to be a fascinating individual.
Getting a reaction out of him had also become a "hobby" of his. Just those clever, witty comebacks and with how expressive he is? It's always a joy to mess with him~
Which lead to their current predicament...
Ever since [Name] became interested with Dr. Ratio, he had made the doctor his personal tester for his inventions and oh... how wonderful those days have been~ the way he gets so worked up with every invention, saying that the Genius is wasting their talent.
Making Dr. Ratio test his inventions had easily became the highlight of his day~
"Are you done talking now? Alright.. shall we proceed with the testing?"
"So... you're next research is about... fried chicken?" Dr. Ratio asked, reading the papers as his gaze darted to the invention once in a while. This can't be real... how come this genius ever think of such a thing? He could be working on some life changing invention or discovery! Why is he dedicating an invention regarding fried chicken?!
"The inspiration came from the explosion.. introducing: The Breadcrumb Spraying Dispenser." The researcher stated as he took the papers from Dr. Ratio and began flipping through them. "An invention which will bring the flavor of your food to a significant level."
"Care to test it for me?'
....That's his inspiration into making this..? This.. thing?
"An explosion inspired you to make this? What explosion?"
"The one back at Herta's Space Station."
.
.
.
.
The day that the Genius Society decided to have their little meet up. [Name] never would have thought that Dr. Ratio is also at the Space Station.
At first, [Name] didn't think much of it. That is... until the whole Annihilation Gang thing happened..
As a kind person he is, he decided to lend them his help not only that, as a fellow Genius Society member he can't let danger arise in Herta's Space Station
.
.
"Go, go! Retreat!"
"Damn... get that ship moving!"
How... interesting..
It's not everyday that the Space Station is being raided like this, especially not from the Annihilation Gang. He thought they were more of a "rush in and kill everyone" type of organization. Who would have thought they have more in mind than to kill him...
[Name] let out a yawn as he casually sat in one of the hidden rooms of the facility as if the whole place isn't being raided or trampled upon by unwanted guests.
"So... the target of the Annihilation Gang is the space ship? But they only sent a bunch of dummies who can hardly accomplish anything." He chuckles in amusement as he continues to eavesdrop on their conversation. It's common for Space Stations to have ships and pods, especially for one as big as Herta's.
"Take all the supplies, the flower and everything! Don't forget the coffee beans!"
"Huh?" [Name] blurred out without thinking.
Standing up from his sitting position, he burst open the door. "Stop right there. You brutal criminals." He said casually as he put a finger gun on the side of his head and did a "fire" motion.
Taken aback by the sudden involvement, the group stood there in shock. Just who is this guy?
"Why don't you listen to the smart guy here, give up your plan and leave. Okay?" He continues, taking a seat at one of the desks as he begins making a cup of coffee on the machine next to him like it's a regular Tuesday.
"What..?"
"This is a gliding ship powered by Arcanum. To start it up... the whole Space Station's electric will be cut off for 5 hours." He explains casually as he made a latte art on his coffee.
Getting fed up with him, one of them pointed their weapon on the side of the scientist's head. "I don't care what you have to do, get this thing moving!"
[Name] merely chuckles in response. "Alright.. at your service.."
"Let the butterfly flap its wings and bring us the hurricane we need.."
BOOM!!
"The ship exploded?! What have you done?!"
"It's just another way to activate it, now say.. thank you, butterfly.." He smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee.
Just because he makes "useless inventions" doesn't mean he doesn't have a trick up his sleeve. Sometimes... [Name] took great advantage of their ignorance..
And Dr. Ratio... is one he takes delight in~
796 notes · View notes
shadowbriar · 11 months
Text
Regulus Black ‐ Jasmine, Lavender, and Poppy
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Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.6k Warning : Nothing, just pure fluff. Synopsis : Regulus made sure that she would never forget his scent ever again. Notes : My first blurb. Should I make more of these? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕  
She remembers his scent well. That very special smell of oud and leather, something that portrays luxury and obscurity. Something that feels like home. Something that screams him— Regulus Arcturus Black.
But poking on Regulus has always been one of her most favourite things to do. Even before they were romantic, teasing him has always been second nature for her. His reactions have always brought her bliss. Their harmless banter is what fuels their day and it feels like the perfect time for her to pull the first taunt of the day.
"I don't smell you from the Amortentia," She lied, teasing her boyfriend whose brows are now pinched high from the offensive words she spilled "I smelled cinnamon, wet grass, and linen."
"Bullshit, I smelled you. There's no way you smelled someone else."
Shs shrugs, closing her textbook that hasn't been read ever since they entered the library, "Maybe you smelled wrong."
"I'm never wrong about these kinds of things."
"Yeah?" She challenges, propping her chin in the palm of her hand "What did you smell?"
"I smelled jasmine, lavender, and poppy."
"That doesn't smell like me. You're just listing random flowers."
Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Your perfume's base is jasmine. You drop a few lavender oil to your seal wax on all of our letters. Your garden is filled with poppies. You are jasmine, lavender, and poppy."
A smile blooms on her face. It was one thing to be satisfied by teasing your boyfriend and another to have him spelling the little details of you. Regulus has always been the observant party of the two, she just never realised how much of her he's taking notes of.
"Also, Love, your house is always decorated with those three flowers on every corner. You are what I smelled from Amortentia. You are my soulmate."
"Well, no one said Amortentia smells like your soulmate. They say it smells like someone you're attracted to so maybe that's why." She continues her scheme, concealing her blooming heart "Maybe I'm attracted to someone else now."
Regulus' brows rose higher, looking even more appalled at her words, "Are you being serious right now?"
She shrugs.
Regulus stood from his seat. Perhaps teasing him in the library when they're the last people there wasn't such a brilliant idea. Merlin knows what he might do now. Regulus might be a calm and collected person but wrong poke and you'll wake the fury inside him.
She started to inch away, pushing her seat back until it hit the wall, giving her no other space to escape. Regulus kneeled down, levelling to her eye level and eyes her deeply. His brows were still knitted in displease but his eyes were soft. Her plan to keep an aloof expression has evidently failed as a playful smile cracks on her lips, anticipating for his next move whilst praying that he wasn't genuinely angry.
"You're a menace." He says before kissing her.
Regulus pulled her chair closer, locking her in place as he put his hands on her sides. It wasn't like she's planning to leave, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to go when they're being kissed by him, especially with such an intimate and asserting position.
One hell of a man, Regulus is.
A victorious smile was plastered on her face when they pulled away. It was a short kiss. Just enough for him to prove to her just how wrong she is about the scents she's attracted to. Regulus knew that she was lying, that she was just trying to get his reaction, yet he complied with her charade anyway.
Regulus now stands from his position. He took off his robe, tossing it carelessly to the seat he occupied a couple minutes ago. He then takes off his jumper, making her cheeks burn from the sight. He surely knows how to keep her around.
"The library might not give you the best privacy if you're planning to go nude, Love." She comments.
Regulus rolls his eyes, handing her his jumper, "Wear it."
"Why?"
"So you won't ever forget my scent again."
1K notes · View notes
padfootagain · 5 months
Text
When We Were Lying
Hi! Here is another Hozier fic! Had a lot of fun with this trope, as always, I hope you’ll like this little story! Tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x reader
Warnings: none… a bit of strong language and an awful lot of longing? Fake-dating AU
Summary: Your ex is attending your family gathering for Christmas and there is no way you're going to face that alone. Of course, you drag your best friend into this, and he's too smitten with you to say no when you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Although, the fact that you both have feelings for each other might end up being a problem...
Word Count: 10055
Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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“Sorry… what?!”
Andrew was blinking at you. There was something unnerving in his frown and the intensity of his stare, but you had to bear it. After all, you had no other choice.
“You’re the only one I can ask to do this with me…”
“I’m absolutely not doing that!”
“Why not?”
“Why not?! Why not?! Do I really have to answer that question or have you found back your sanity?”
“Andrew…”
“I am not going to lie to your entire family at Christmas just to save your stupid arse!”
“But I said ‘please’…”
“Y/N!”
“Andrew!”
“This is a terrible idea! I’m not doing that!”
He stared at you as if you had lost your mind, and in all fairness, perhaps you had… for a part at least. Why else would you be sitting in your best friend’s comfortable sofa, in the middle of his large and yet welcoming living room, asking him to lie to your family and pretend that you were together? Only for a day though, just for the traditional meal on Christmas, the boring and tedious lunch on the 25th where you exchanged gifts and stabbing remarks with your least favourite members of your family.
Not that you were not used to face this tragedy on your own; if your arse of an uncle had been the only obstacle to overcome this year, you would have emerged with flying colours. But this year was different. It was different, because your cousin Samantha was coming with her boyfriend… aka your ex-boyfriend. The one she had slept with ten months ago. The one who had betrayed you and broken your silly heart. The one you wished you could put laxatives into his drinks, or pierce his tires, or put some very strong pepper into his tea… Something Machiavellian like that…
But as your chances of poisoning his food at the Christmas lunch were limited, you had to settle for plan B. Which was simple enough: convince your best friend to pretend to be madly in love with you, so you would not have to bear any comments from your family about your broken heart and the fact that you had been cheated on by your fucking cousin Samantha… and perhaps, with a bit of luck, you could also make your ex, Craig, jealous.
A brilliant plan, if there was ever any. Only, Andrew didn’t seem to share your optimism.
“You’ve lost it, this time,” he went on, eyes wide, aghast as he slowly shook his head.
You couldn’t blame him for thinking this. Especially given the fact that your feelings for him would probably end up being a problem. But despite your silly little crush on him… who else could you ask such a favour to? The two of you had known each other for years. He was your best friend, you were ready to do anything for him. No one else would accept…
“Andy… I know I’m asking a lot…”
“This will never work. Beyond the fact that this is pure madness, it will never work! Your parents know me! They know we’re not together!”
“Friends get together all the time!”
“No one will believe us. And you know me, I hate… PDA and stuff like that… I can’t… even when it’s real, I struggle with that stuff. I can’t fake it.”
“On the contrary, that’s great! Cause then, we don’t have to act too much like we’re together, and we can just blame it on your well-known aversion for PDA!”
“No. I’m sorry, Y/N, but this time… it’s a no. I’m not doing that. I’m not playing fake-boyfriend for you.”
You heaved a defeated sigh.
“And I thought you would kill for me.”
“I’m a pacifist… a punch across the jaw is the best I can do.”
“Lousy friend.”
“Fuck off! You think you asking me to lie to your entire family is better? Just so you won’t have to hear them complaining about you being single? You think that’s not worse?”
You saw the way his expression saddened when yours did, when the tinge of playfulness left your features. His voice was softer when he spoke again.
“Why is it so unbearable anyway, huh? You’ve forgotten how my mother can be? I’ve got that refrain sang to me all the time too. It’s not so bad.”
You bit on your lip and lowered your gaze before answering, holding back tears that came blurring your vision of Andrew’s soft carpet.
“Craig and Sam will be there. Together.”
You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was clenching his jaw.
“I don’t… I don’t want to have to face that on my own. I’m not sure I can…”
You barely had time to brush a tear away that Andrew was holding you close, arms wrapped tightly around your frame. And you let him pull you even closer, until your ear was pressed against his heart, until he could drop a tender kiss to the top of your head. He heaved a sigh.
“Could you still come? As a friend?” you asked, voice trembling even if you didn’t want it to.
You hated being like this. Fragile. Crying. Not over the betrayal. You wanted to wave a perfect life at your ex so he would see all that he was missing, until he regretted everything. It was petty, but true. Instead, you would be the one sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a couple of weeks, trying not to throw up nor cry while you witnessed your ex and your cousin playing perfect couple…
Andrew heaved a painful sigh.
“I’ll come.”
“Thank you.”
“No, I mean… I’ll do it. The whole crazy plan. I’ll do it. I’ll be your boyfriend for the day.”
You pulled away just enough to look up at him. There were traces of annoyance in his gaze, but a lot of tenderness too as his eyes met yours, hazel irises turning greener in the quiet light of a late afternoon.
“Really?” you asked, voice shy even though you craved for confidence.
“Really. But you’d better make sure that your mother still loves me when you break it to her that we’re not together anymore! I’m not giving up on her amazing lasagnas, not even for you.”
“I have the recipe, you know?”
“Your mother’s taste better.”
“Fucker!”
“Don’t insult me, or I’ll take everything back and let you deal with this bunch of assholes on your own!”
“Sorry!” you quipped, hiding your face into his chest again, and you heard him mumbling some complaints, playing grumpy, but you knew better.
You were smiling as you listened to his low voice lulling you back into a soothed state. You wondered how he did that. How a mere hug and some whispering were all it took to calm you down, to make you feel safe all over again, when you were so damn insecure all the time.
You lost track of your own thoughts when his large hand came to rest on the back of your head, keeping you close.
And you were glad that you could explain a lack of PDA in front of your family, because there was no way for you to survive a whole day with the man you secretly loved holding you like that…
“Do you hate me? For being selfish and dragging you into this?” you asked him, voice muffled by his woollen jumper.
“No,” he shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
“Even if I called you to get rid of a body with me?”
“Erm… As long as I’m not the one cutting it into pieces.”
You both let out a chuckle.
“I’ll make sure to stain your carpet with the blood of my victims.”
“Now, that would make me hate you, for sure.”
“I knew you’d choose your carpet over me.”
“Yeah, but what a carpet it is!”
“It doesn’t make you lasagna though…”
“I only like your mam’s.”
You smiled, but remained quiet. You were serious again when your voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over your two entwined frames.
“Seriously, though… I’m sorry I’m asking you this. I just… I just don’t see what else I can do. I don’t think I can stomach seeing the two of them as a happy couple while I’m still… desperately single. A real loser…”
“Stop talking about yourself like that,” he admonished, voice genuinely annoyed. “I hate it when you do that. You’re… you’re amazing, Y/N. More than you realise. And Craig and Samantha are terrible people. So… stop blaming it all on yourself. They can rot in hell.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in heaven and hell.”
“You know what I mean.”
A pause while you smiled, wool tickling your cheek.
“Thank you.”
He rubbed your back, gesture soft, taking his time.
“Don’t mention it.”
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“You owe me so much…”
“I thought you said ‘don’t mention it!’”
“Don’t mention it, my arse…”
You laughed at him, you couldn’t help it. As Andrew and you walked together down the lane leading to your parents’ house, you couldn’t refrain your laughter. Andrew looked nervous… like the day he had met your parents for the first time, years ago.
“Stop acting like they don’t know you. My family adores you.”
“That’s until they learn I’m lying through my teeth.”
“You’re an infamous liar, anyway.”
“Hey!”
He faked outrage, making you laugh even more, and this time, he couldn’t refrain his own smile.
“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this…”
“Me neither. You must have lost your mind, too.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and sealed his lips again. There was something almost sad on his features for a second, and you wanted to ask if he was alright, but you were already in front of the green door.
“You ready?” he asked instead, an encouraging smile adorning his handsome features now, the cold of December making his cheeks and nose redden.
And you had to struggle through missing heartbeats to nod your head. He looked lovely like this, hair in a half-bun, some curls still free, hair tied only to keep the strands away from his face. He was wearing the grey beanie you adored, chin buried in a huge matching scarf…
“We’ll be fine,” he reassured you, all traces of playfulness or annoyance gone from his warm voice.
“Let’s make Craig so jealous he’ll choke over some pudding.”
You both chuckled, and Andrew nodded, lovely crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes as he kept on smiling.
“Sounds like a plan.”
You took a deep breath before knocking.
There was no turning back.
You glimpsed at Andrew one more time as you waited for your mother to come and open the door, and you thought it truly was the worst idea you had ever had, to ask Andrew to do this… Andrew, of all people. If he was the only choice, he also was the worst one. You simply hoped you wouldn’t have to fake too much… because your heart sped up at the mere thought of holding his hand…
What an idiot you were, getting yourself into so much trouble… at what point had you imagined it was a good idea to ask the man you secretly loved to be your fake boyfriend?!
Your thoughts were interrupted though, as your mother finally appeared. You grinned at her as she hurried to give you a hug.
Andrew had barely closed the door behind him that he was receiving a warm hug as well.
“Ha! Andy!” your mother welcomed him, making him laugh. “It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long.”
“It has indeed…”
“And finally! You two came to your senses!”
You frowned, but didn’t have time to ask your mother what she meant. Instead, you were pulled into the whirlwind that was your family.
Andrew remained close to you, and you were not surprised. There were plenty of people gathered in the large living room, several generations together in the warmth of your childhood home, and Andrew wasn’t too good with dealing with so many people. When you turned to him to offer him a gentle smile, one he immediately offered as well, he seemed a little uncomfortable, hands in his pockets as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, head slightly bent, as to appear less tall than he truly was, a desperate attempt at hiding. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, such a stark contrast with the confident musician he was each time he stepped on a stage.
You introduced him to the members of your family he didn’t know (including your terrible uncle, who didn’t fail to be rude, hence living up to his reputation). And everything was going fine, except perhaps for the uncontrollable burst that sparked through your heart and chest every time you called Andrew your boyfriend. You pushed to the side the longing that washed over you at the thought that you wished the word could be true…
But it wasn’t the right time for such consideration. After years spent as Andrew’s friend while harbouring feelings for him, you had grown amazingly talented at hiding the love that coursed through each of your cells every time you saw him, or heard him, or thought of him…
But that was not the right time for such thoughts. Indeed, a new couple was just entering the room…
… and suddenly everyone was quiet.
Samantha and Craig seemed to not notice the sudden silence, or else they were simply very good at hiding it. You couldn’t control your expression as you winced, turning towards the window.
But you were surprised by Andrew’s touch, as he reached for your hand. Fingers shy at first, barely the ghost of a caress across your knuckles. When you leaned closer, fingers searching for his too, he intertwined them together, and as you turned to him, he gave you the warmest smile. A silent gesture to tell you it would be okay.
You were even more surprised when he pulled you closer, a gentle tug at your joined hands. You had discussed, before coming to your parents’ house, the boundaries you needed to respect for today. Holding hands was okay. Touching arms, hair or a waist was okay. You had not discussed kissing, but you reckoned that it was a clear no. An arm around the other’s shoulders or back was good too.
But now, Andrew was pulling you gently closer until you were settled against his chest, and he bent to softly kiss your hair, lips lingering on the top of your head for several seconds. The gesture was so tender, you had to close your eyes…
And then his lips were gone, leaving behind the quiet sound of a kiss and their warmth. When you opened your eyes again and looked up at him, Andrew was blushing, but he was smiling too. And there was something in the way he was looking at you…
“Y/N! How good to see you!”
You turned towards Samantha, hence interrupting your train of thoughts, perhaps for the better.
You forced a polite smile, but didn’t go as far as to completely hide that you weren’t happy to see her.
“Sam! How are you?”
“Good! I’m good! What about you?”
She only then seemed to notice Andrew’s presence by your side, an impressive performance, given his height and the fact that you were still leaning into his chest…
“Oh, hi! Hmmm… Andrew, is it? I remember you! You’re Y/N’s friend!”
“Boyfriend now, actually,” you corrected her, and you were amused by the look of surprise on her face.
“Oh! Congratulations! Good for you!”
Around the room, conversations had started again, filling up space once more and giving you at least some privacy… although you knew it to be but a relative truth. Your relatives who stood closer to you were probably listening closely, unwilling to lose any crumb of the conversation and drama that might ensue.
Behind Samantha, Craig finally greeted you, more uncomfortable than his girlfriend was. He grew even more uncomfortable when he offered his open hand to Andrew.
“Good to see you again, Andy.”
You hated that Andrew had to let go of your hand to shake Craig’s, but his fingers found yours again as soon as the greeting was over. It was rare to see Andrew with a clearly forced smile on his face, he was generally better at hiding his discomfort, a habit of always being polite.
“Craig,” followed by a nod was the only greeting Andrew gave your ex, and you recognised protectiveness in the way he moved slightly closer to you, placing himself between you and Craig.
And you felt a little guilty for the sense of pride that you got from that gesture, knowing you shouldn’t be reading anything even remotely romantic into it… but then again, you were but human. And humans always liked dreaming…
“How are you two doing?” Craig asked, and you nodded.
“Good, we’re both doing good. You?”
“Oh, we’re great! We’re planning on going for a trip for our anniversary, don’t we, dear?” Samantha went on, turning to her boyfriend, who merely nodded… rightly uncomfortable.
“Amazing!” you managed to get out between gritted teeth.
“And for how long have you two been together, then?” Craig asked, changing the subject quickly.
“A couple of months,” you answered, a detail you and Andrew had agreed on.
“So, it’s still the honeymoon phase, then,” Sam nodded knowingly, although you weren’t sure what kind of knowledge that was…
“It’s pretty new,” you nodded.
“How lovely! But… I thought the two of you were friends,” she went on, acting confused.
“We were,” you confirmed, and when you struggled to continue, it was Andrew’s turn to step in.
“And now we’re more than that.”
The two of you exchanged a smile, and again, you noticed the way he was blushing.
Craig nodded his head, and you saw how he was frowning, the kind of expression he wore when he was upset over something.
“It’s funny that you were friends for so long and then all of a sudden… you decide to be more,” he spoke with a tinge of venom in a tone he tried to turn honeyed.
You looked for an excuse, but Andrew was the one to answer again. And you were taken aback by his words… and even more so by how earnest they sounded, although… although he could only be lying.
“We… we’ve spent a long time tiptoeing around that line. I think… we’ve had feelings for a while for each other. I guess we were simply afraid to lose everything we already had if we gave this a try.”
“And what decided you to give this a try, then?”
“I don’t know. Some courage, I guess.”
“Or an opportunity,” Craig proposed, making you frown. There was an insinuation behind his tone, and you didn’t quite know what to do of it.
Andrew seemed to understand better, judging by the way he clenched his jaw, slightly tightened his hold on your hand. He remained quiet though, refusing to rise to Craig’s challenge.
“These things can take time, you know?” you added, trying to pull the conversation away from the glares Andrew and Craig seemed keen to throw each other, a silent battle of thunder and storms. “Where are you planning that trip of yours?”
It was too easy to centre the conversation back onto Samantha, nothing surpriseing, though, considering her character…
Lucky for you, you were soon called by your mother to help in the kitchen.
Or actually, it was but a limited reprieve you were granted. It took your mother only a couple of minutes to bombard you with questions, while she made you cut some carrots, sunlight streaming on your hands from the window set above the sink as you worked. It enlightened the orange stains that slowly grew across your fingers while you dodged your mother’s queries, struggling to remain calm while lying. You thought you would be better at it, but as you peeled the vegetables, their forms made slippery in your hands, you were losing your footing, feeling increasingly guilty as the lies passed your lips again and again.
A first date in a quiet restaurant.
A piece of carrot thrown in the sink.
A first kiss in front of your door, as a tender goodbye, one that lingered in reluctance to part.
A blade slipping too fast.
No, you were not planning ahead for now, just taking things as they went, as they formed.
No, there was no words of love yet, don’t be ridiculous! It’s only the beginning…
“The beginning!” Your mother scoffed, throwing a potato in the sink, alongside your colourful pieces. “The man has been looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars for years! You’ve been stealing glances for so long… I don’t even remember when it started! It’s not the beginning, dear. The two of you have been in love for years. It is only a logical continuation.”
She frowned as she looked at you, finally lifting her gaze from the brown pile of peels.
“You’re okay?”
You were startled by her question.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“I don’t know… you seem… almost sad.”
You couldn’t hold her stare, and you fought every bit of instinct in you to avoid recoiling from her touch as your mother, in a sweet gesture, rested her hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t worry yourself over Craig and Samantha. And before you ask, I wasn’t the one who invited them.”
You nodded, as if you were reassured, as if she was right about the cause of your worry, had aimed straight at the knot of your problems.
She hadn’t. And you were perplexed as you realized this too. Because you had thought that seeing your ex and your cousin together would be unbearable, and it was, indeed, a painful sight. But it was hurting your pride more than your heart, a sting at your ego rather than a tear at your soul.
Instead, the images you summoned in a fake reality with Andrew were the ones destroying you. Because these details, these anecdotes, these stories you made up for your mother were ones you genuinely longed for.
A quiet date in a restaurant you loved. A kiss bathed in streetlights. Hands holding that didn’t want to let go…
This was a terrible idea. A terrible… terrible idea…
“Andrew! Come here, lad! Give us a hand with these, would you?”
You felt his presence by your side before his hand appeared in your vision, reaching for a vegetable, getting to work without any protest or arguing. He would lose anyway, against your mother, and he knew it.
You chatted together for a while, conversation smooth and easy, as always with him around. You almost forgot that all of this was fake when Andrew leaned closer, as if he longed for your nearness. You reached for him before you could think, leaning closer as well, until your arms touched as you worked, the ghost of a touch that was enough to set your heart ablaze…
God… this was such a terrible, terrible idea…
You barely noticed your mother as she moved around the kitchen, until she reached for Andrew.
“I’m so happy for you,” she spoke in a smile. “After all this time… I’m glad the two of you have finally worked out all the things that kept you apart.”
She disappeared before you could speak to her, ask her what she meant. When you turned to Andrew though, he was blinking tears away.
“Andy? You’re alright? What’s wrong?” You asked with sudden worry in your voice, but your friend shook his head.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Just… Erm…”
But he grew quiet, shrugged. You tried to guess, but were pretty sure to miss the mark when he reassured you again.
“Is my mother bothering you?”
“No! Of course, not. It’s weird lying to her, that’s all.”
There was something more to it, but Andrew interrupted you before you could question him further.
“Besides… we have another problem. A more important one. That’s why I was looking for you.”
“What is it?”
“Craig doesn’t believe us.”
“What?”
“He pulled me aside and told me he knew we were faking it. That he was going to tell everyone.”
“The son of a bitch!”
“My thoughts, precisely.”
“What did you answer?”
Andrew shrugged.
“That he was being ridiculous.”
“And?”
“That he was merely being jealous over the fact that he had let a woman like you slip between his fingers like a moron.”
You tried to hide the grin that formed on your lips at his praise.
“Nice… going all in on the ‘make him jealous’ wagon, I see…”
He took a moment to answer, voice less confident than his usual tone when he spoke once more.
“Just the truth…”
You ignored his remark, and you didn’t get why the same tinge of sadness made his hazel eyes greener again, the same way they had earlier that day…
“What can we do to convince him?” you asked, eliciting little more than a shrug from your friend.
You heaved a sigh, your carrots now all cut in the sink. Game over…
“Let’s see how all this unfolds,” was your only solution for now.
“And if he tells your family?”
“We’ll see, Andy. We’ll see.”
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The meal was over. The gifts had been given, the kisses and thankful glances had been exchanged. It was time to settle in with some board games, for those willing, while others nibbled on some pastries and chatted in sofas and armchairs. The last remnants of cakes lingered in porcelain plates while coffee, tea and hot chocolate were being served. You laughed when Andrew picked up your warm beverage before you had a chance.
“Are you drinking my cocoa?”
“I’m trying it out. Just to be sure. In case of poison or something like that.”
You both laughed as he took another sip, humming in delight.
“You could have asked for a hot chocolate instead of tea!” you admonished, but didn’t try to take the cup from him, too happy to see him smiling to even think about it.
God, he could steal the entire beverage, as long as he kept on smiling like that… happy, and soft, and welcoming, calling for a smile of your own to answer his…
“Tastes better when it’s yours,” he laughed, all mischief and cheekiness while he looked at you and drank a third sip, a tiny one, just to get on your nerves.
The charm was broken though when one of the children running around bumped into him and made Andrew spill a little bit of chocolate across his chin. You burst into laughter.
“Well, that was… hot,” you teased while Andrew tried to hide his mouth and chin with his hand, looking around for a napkin of some kind. “Literally, I mean. It must be hot. Graciously so.”
“I hate you,” he glowered without any animosity in his gaze, making you laugh harder as you finally handed him one of the paper towels set on the coffee table.
On the other side of the room, people were playing a board game, but you felt better like this. Just you and Andrew chatting around a cocoa, or what was left of it. No one was truly paying attention to you, or so you had thought… among the five people who were casually chatting in small groups around the coffee table, it was easy to notice that all around the room, if gazes were directed towards your small group, it was to stare at Andrew and you.
Was Andrew aware of that scrutiny? Of the gazes fixed upon you?
“You’re okay?” he asked, frowning slightly, and you wished you could ease the crease between his brow with a brush of your thumb.
“Sure. I’m fine. Just… I think people are kind of watching us,” you added in a whisper no one could eavesdrop, leaning closer to him in the process.
He hummed, slowly nodding.
“Yeah, I think we’re kind of… the new thing.”
You bit your lip before making your next request, and you were surprised to notice that his eyes lingered on your mouth until you spoke.
“Is that okay if we act like…?” you left your question suspended in mid-air.
He nodded again, in silence, and there it was again, the flash of pain turning the hazel into full green…
You noticed the sharp intake of breath he took before finally speaking, the way his eyes narrowed just a little, for a second, while he hesitated… but then the words were out all the same, making his pale cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.
“Can I… tug that strand of hair behind your ear?”
You struggled to swallow and nodded, it was your time to be silent, you couldn’t trust your voice.
He was leaning closer when he lifted his arm towards you, shifting to be facing you, both of you sitting on a sofa that was too comfortable and too familiar for you to feel this tensed, almost frightened.
“You’re sure that’s alright?” Andrew asked again, and this time you let out a faint yes along with your nod.
Frightened wasn’t the right word though. You weren’t scared at all, in fact, you felt absolutely safe with Andrew sitting so close to you, your bodies almost touching, but not quite, just far enough to leave you longing to close these gaps. Slowly, his hand was lifted, all the way up to your face, pushing back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He was staring at you, something that went beyond softness, beyond the usual tenderness his gaze adorned when it fell on you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, guess what it meant. But then again, his thumb was brushing your cheek, and the ghostly touch made you too dizzy, anyway.
He leaned closer, unbearably closer, until his lips were next to your ear, his fingers moving to hold your face in place, palm cradling your jaw.
“Can I… Can I kiss your cheek?”
You were certain that your heart could not take more of this, of his intoxicating cologne, of the warmth of his skin across yours, of the delicate breath fanning across your ear…
You reached up for something, anything to hold onto, and your fingers met his woollen jumper, attached themselves to it as if holding a safe line.
“Yes, you can,” you answered despite your shaking voice and the fact that you had no air left in your lungs whatsoever.
Your rational brain wanted to remind you that this was not real, that it was all for show… but the world had vanished the second he had leaned closer. No… no, before that. When he had stared at you in this gentle way, when his hand had risen towards your face. You couldn’t even remember that you were at your parents’, in fact, you couldn’t remember your own name. Your entire world was being rewritten because this man was holding you close, a palm cradling your jaw while the other found its way to your waist; because he was moving slowly away, only to come back closer than ever, lips resting on your cheek. You closed your eyes the second his lips found your skin, their warmth coursing through your entire frame it seemed, his beard slightly tickling you, just enough to make it all the more endearing. He lingered there for what anyone would consider too long, but when you thought he was about to pull away, his lips merely hovered above your cheek, close enough for you to feel their warmth still, and the hurried breaths he exhaled. And then he was kissing your cheekbone again, and again, and with each resting of his lips upon you, you tightened your hold on his jumper, your free hand coming to rest right against his heart, in the end…
You both jumped at the sharp sound of something falling, glass breaking. As you turned, you noticed that someone had dropped a glass of water to the floor. Nothing too bad, your father was already heading towards the kitchen to clean up the mess that was made. Craig didn’t have a drink.
Before you could analyse the situation in depth, though, Andrew was turning his attention back onto you, and you had no choice but to look at him again too. You remained perfectly still for a moment, hazel eyes meeting your gaze in an unreadable expression, his hands still on you…
And then you both realised how close you were, how easy it would be to just lean a little further and to close the gap between your lips…
And you pulled away in a jolt, startled by your nearness, like two teenagers caught red-handed by an adult.
Andrew cleared his throat, rubbing his palms on his dark jeans, shifting like he didn’t know what to do with his own body all over again.
“I should… help clean the mess…” you mumbled, stuttering slightly, while Andrew was nodding and humming, averting his gaze.
You did just that, hurrying towards the table and picking up pieces of broken glass while your brain remained stuck on the feeling of Andrew’s beard on your skin, the softness of his lips, the way he held you closer…
Your heart was still pounding, your breath catching in your throat every now and then; in fact, every time you thought about his fingers slipping to your hair…
“Let’s throw all these away, darling,” your mother told you, nodding towards the shards in your palm.
You stood straighter without a word, headed for the kitchen…
… to fall face to face with Craig.
Wonderful…
“Sorry about the glass,” he said, breathless for some reason.
“Oh, you’re the one who broke it? Don’t worry about it, my parents have plenty of those. As long as you didn’t cut yourself…”
“I did, actually.”
You took a closer look, and indeed, he was pouring cold water onto a cut across his thumb. Nothing worth worrying about, but it would be quite painful and bothersome for a few days, still. The cut was long and clean, if not too deep.
You had walked closer to inspect the wound, and you didn’t notice the way he stared at you.
“It’s not too bad, but it must hurt.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m just waiting for it to stop bleeding.”
“You should press something on it, then.”
You handed him a napkin, which he rolled around his finger as he thanked you. You finally noticed that you were alone in the kitchen, that everybody else was still in the living room either chatting or cleaning up the mess Craig had made.
“Actually, I… I wanted to talk to you, just us…”
You silently encouraged him to continue, but you were taken aback at the passion and hurt in his eyes when your two gazes locked together.
“I… Is it serious? With Andrew, I mean?”
“Yeah… yes! Of course, it’s serious. Why?”
He shrugged, but you saw the way he clenched his jaw.
“It’s just… you’ve been friends for years… why now?”
You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable now… and you blamed it on a lie, but you knew it was because of the longing that was stuck in your heart, and had been dormant there for too long for you to count.
“I don’t know… the timing was always wrong. He wasn’t single, I wasn’t single, he was touring, I was busy… we kind of… were never on the same page, you know? We… our lives never managed to align.”
Slowly, Craig nodded.
“But this time, your lives are aligning?”
“Yeah! I mean… we’re both single, both staying in Ireland for more than a couple of weeks… we… we both want the same things.”
“And what is that?”
“What’s what?”
“That ‘thing’. Whatever it is that you want, what is it?”
You struggled to swallow, looking for a lie, an answer, anything to say. And a weight fell on your chest as the earnest answer flashed before you, taking the shape of two hazel eyes, unruly curls, soft-spoken words and an infectious laugh…
You thought you wanted some revenge. To make Craig jealous, for him to regret leaving you… but the truth was, you had wanted another man all along. And you still couldn’t have him. It was only a game of pretence.
What a terrible idea, this whole fake-relationship scheme…
Craig took a step closer to you, bringing your bodies so close, as you looked up at him, he was but a breath away.
“What do you want? Why are you with him? Of all people, why Andrew, and why now? Do you want to know what I think about all this?”
You frowned at his tone, crossing your arms before your chest, a glare starting to cover your features.
“Oh, enlighten me!” you replied with challenge in your voice.
But Craig didn’t back down. He only leant closer.
“I think you’re trying to make me jealous. I think you’re not over us. I think that deep down, you still want me. And you turned to your best friend as a rebound. But you’ll be tired of him in a couple of months.”
You shook your head, but your ex still went on.
“Look, I know that what I did was horrible, okay? I… Samantha was a mistake… but we could still have this. You and I, we… we were great together.”
You scoffed, taking a step back, shaking your head some more in amazement. The guy had balls, you had to give him that, at least.
“A mistake you’re about to celebrate your first anniversary with…” you replied, tone acidic and bearing no regrets for it.
“Y/N…”
“No! I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but you’re wrong, that’s for sure. I… you cheated on me! With my cousin! How could you possibly imagine that I would want to give you another chance?!”
He heaved a sigh, and you thought he would give in, but he didn’t, on the contrary. This was only the first round.
“So what? You’re bringing Andrew here and playing perfect couple just to get under my skin? To make me pay? To show me what I’ve lost?”
You looked for something to say, but couldn’t deny the plain truth.
“Because I already know what I’ve lost, okay?” Craig went on, tears shining in his eyes. “I know that. I don’t need you to pretend to be in love with someone else to see that.”
You let out a shaky breath. You could have walked away, but it felt good to let the truth out. A day spent telling nothing but lies, it was a relief to reveal the truth, even if it was but a fragment.
“You’re wrong. I love Andrew. In fact… I’ve loved him for years.”
He frowned at that, but you went on, a tear escaping your eyes that you didn’t even notice flowing down your cheek. You had been lying to yourself for a long time, pretending that all this made sense, that it was alright, that you were happy and content as Andrew’s friend. In truth, you were anything but happy, anything but content. And today, pretending to be his, pretending that he was yours… it only showed you more clearly that this was what you wanted. What you had always wanted. What you couldn’t have, perhaps, but what you needed.
It was a confession spoken to Craig, but made for you.
“I’ve been in love with Andrew for years. I’ve had relationships because… I wanted to forget him. Thought I could. Thought it was nothing but an infatuation, then nothing but a crush, and then nothing but a meaningless unrequited love that I would get over quickly. But the truth is, you were the band-aid, Craig. And he’s the one I’ve always wanted. And you know what? You’re right. Coming here with Andy today I… I wanted to come with him because I didn’t want to have to face you and Samantha on my own. Didn’t want to have to bear everybody’s stares and pity thinking I was the poor victim of a tragedy… And I wanted you to see that I was fine without you. That I deserved better than the way you treated me. That I… That I was worth keeping, and loving. But I… at the end of the day, if this afternoon has shown me anything, it’s that I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I don’t give two fucks about you and Samantha. So… let’s be cordial, as we must, as you’re still part of the family for as long as you’ll be dating my cousin, but… I’m over you, Craig. I’m over all of this. And if there is one thing I want in this world, it’s Andy.”
Before Craig could say anything, before you could even process his reaction, you were storming out of the room. Or at least, you tried to. Because you had taken but a couple of steps towards the door, when Craig held you back, holding onto your wrist.
“Really? Is that how you feel?” he asked, clearly hurt, but also unmistakably angry. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you. You and Andy? I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. You’re faking it. You’re lying now and for what? To hurt me?”
You didn’t say anything, instead, you merely broke free. Walked out of the kitchen, angry and annoyed and not thinking straight but with a decision taken anyway…
“Andy?”
When you looked around, he wasn’t on the sofa anymore.
“Yes?”
You turned around again. He was right there, by the table, wet napkins in hand, as he had clearly been helping cleaning up the mess your ex had made, standing not too far from the door to the kitchen, your mother by his side while everyone was turning towards you.
He frowned slightly as you hurried towards him, making a bee line to reach him, not caring that everyone was staring at the two of you. Instead, you didn’t think, forgot about the world, focused your attention on Andrew and his unruly curls and the confusion in his hazel eyes, and the way his lips slightly parted as you approached. And then, you took his face in your hands, pulled him down and rose to your tiptoes to meet him halfway, and you kissed him.
You crashed your lips against his, nothing graceful in the gesture, but desperation pouring from every inch of you. You were taken aback though, by the quiet huff he let out, your brain finally kicking in again, and thinking that this was crazy, a terrible idea, and more than anything else, highly inappropriate…
… but Andrew quickly recovered from the initial shock, and before you could pull away and profusely apologise, he had dropped the napkins that hit the floor in a thud, and his arms were wrapping around your frame, pulling you to him. You felt his eyelashes brushing your skin as he closed his eyes, leaning into your kiss, moving his lips over yours to compliment your own movements. And if he was more graceful about it, softer than your rushed gesture, he poured such passion into the kiss that your knees grew weak, and you rested your weight on him, leaning into his chest.
It was over too soon, though, interrupted by the sound of someone – probably one of your parents, or your pain of an uncle – clearing their throat. Andrew was the one pulling away, clearing his throat as well as he took a step back, although one of his hands remained at your waist.
He was blushing when you opened your eyes. And you suddenly wanted to leave. To just go and disappear and pretend like you had not broken the best friendship you had ever had and that the man you loved would not hate you from now on for kissing him like that and that you had not humiliated yourself in front of your entire family…
But as you were about to speak, Craig was hissing from somewhere behind Andrew, making him turn around. Before his attention was pulled away from you, you noted the way Andrew was looking at you. Intensely, a little stunned too, like he wasn’t sure that it had happened, that you had truly kissed him, and yet, like he was searching for answers in your eyes…
But then he turned to face Craig. He had barely turned towards him, though, that your ex was grabbing Andrew by the collar, and pushing him against the nearest wall, Andrew’s hand leaving its resting spot on your hip in the process.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Craig shouted, the whole room too stunned to react while Andrew’s back collided with the wall, a hollow sound ensuing and making a couple of framed pictures shake with the strength of the impact.
“Get off me!” Andrew merely replied through his teeth, struggling to break free, but fighting had never been his strong suit…
“You fucking BASTARD!”
“Craig!”
The first people were finally reacting, hurrying to pull your ex away, but he kept them at bay, trying to keep on pushing Andrew against the wall.
“You were just waiting for your turn, you son of bitch! Dickhead! You were just waiting to get a chance to fuck that bitch!”
Andrew’s expression hardened, and this time, when he reached for Craig, it wasn’t to pull at his hands, but to grab the collar of your ex’s shirt and violently pull as well.
“Don’t you fucking dare insult her like that!” he growled, with such anger and threat, a tone you had never heard on his voice before.
“Both of you, stop!” your father ordered.
“Stop this! What are you doing?” you added, tugging at both their arms, but none of them seemed to care.
Instead, Craig went on, pushing on all of Andrew’s buttons…
“I can’t believe she did run straight into your bed like a whore…”
Before anyone could react, Andrew was pushing Craig away with so much force that he stumbled backwards and fell down.
For a second time, the whole room was too stunned to react, while Craig staggered back to his feet. Andrew moved away from the wall, and as your ex stood straighter again he was glaring at him, jaw tightly clenched. You had never seen so much wrath on his features before.
But it wasn’t over. Craig threw Andrew only one look before he was bending over and running to him, tackling him and making him fall back easily. You gasped at the loud sound of Andy’s head hitting the tiles.
Too stunned to move, Andrew didn’t even try to avoid Craig’s punch, and he got hit straight across the jaw. Thankfully, hands were then pulling Craig off of Andrew. You didn’t care though. You didn’t pay attention to your father and one of your aunts pushing Craig into the kitchen while shouting at him. You didn’t notice your cousin hurrying to join him, clearly worried. All you could do was to fall on your knees by Andrew’s side, holding onto his shoulders and gently shaking him while he blinked, clearly disoriented.
“Andy! Andy, you’re okay? Can you hear me?” you asked in a rush.
His unfocused gaze finally found you, and he blinked some more. You thought he was about to faint.
“Andy! Stay with me! Are you alright?”
Your hands moved from his shoulders to his cheeks. He took hold on your right wrist, touch firm and yet gentle still.
“Y/N…”
“You’re okay? Andy?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re sure? How’s your head? Do you feel dizzy?”
“A little bit. I’m okay though.”
“Really?”
Slowly, he nodded. Your mother appeared by your side, asked Andrew how he felt as well. His answer was to slowly sit up. He looked exhausted, all of a sudden, paler than usual, but there was no cut across the back of his head, merely the beginning of a bump.
“I’m fine,” he repeated.
You helped him to his feet, your mother checking that he was unharmed too.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, but your mother was quick to dismiss it all with a wave of her hand.
“It’s not your fault, dear. Let’s seat you down on the sofa for a moment.”
“No, I’m… I’m fine.”
Samantha walked out of the kitchen, crying, and you wondered why. Or actually, you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to stay for a minute longer in the same room as either her or Craig.
“Actually, I think we should go,” you interjected, and Andrew nodded.
“No, please… Craig is going to be kicked out, don’t worry about him,” your mother argued.
“No, really, I… I want to go home. Please, I want to go home.”
You were on the verge of tears, and so you turned towards the hallway, followed by your mother’s protests, along with some of your other relatives’ kind words. But you wanted to run now, disappear and leave all of them behind. You were tired of being looked at… you needed to be on your own for a while.
Meanwhile, Andrew was remaining silent. He only spoke to apologise once again to your family, clearly ashamed. You left before Craig could be let out of the kitchen, and were close to running to your car.
You climbed in, Andrew following suit in the passenger seat. You drove on, heading for home. You should have taken Andrew to his house, but you didn’t even think about it. The thought never came. You simply headed home, and Andrew didn’t protest, even though he obviously recognized the road you were taking.
Only when you arrived before your building did you realise that Andrew was still here, the ride had been filled with nothing but silence.
“You should come in, I’ll take a look at your jaw.”
Indeed, a bruise was forming under his beard, colouring the sharp angle of his face with yellowish hues.
“It’s nothing. Nothing broken.”
“Please, come in. Please…”
You stared at each other for a moment, but he yielded, nodding, at long last. You waited for him to climb out of your small car, and he held on the door before closing it, wincing as he unfolded his tall frame.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, just… a little dizzy, that’s all.”
“You need to go to the hospital?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it was just a punch.”
“And a hit on the head.”
“Thick skull. Don’t you know that already?”
You both chuckled, while Andrew followed you inside your home.
You rid yourself of your shoes and coat, aiming straight for the freezer to get a bag of frozen vegetables there. Andrew was by your side, leaning against the kitchen counter. He didn’t protest when you gently rested the cold bag against his jaw, merely winced at the sharp sensation.
“Thanks,” he breathed, staring right into your eyes.
But you didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, your world got blurred by tears.
“You… are you angry?”
But Andrew shook his head.
“No. No, I’m not angry.”
“You should be.”
“Probably.”
“You… you had to lie all day long because of me, and then I kissed you without your permission and you probably hated that, and then you punched Craig, and you got punched in the face… all because of me. I’m a lousy friend.”
“The worst,” he corrected you, but there was a tender smile on his lips.
“You should be angry.”
“I’m not.”
“You should hate me.”
“I don’t. And I…”
A pause. He seemed out of breath for a second, wetted his lips, before he went on.
“I liked it, by the way.”
“What?”
“Your kiss. I… I didn’t hate it. I liked it. A lot.”
Your eyes merely grew round, and Andrew looked away, averting his eyes. He heaved a painful sigh.
“I told you this would be a terrible idea,” he pointed out.
“I know.”
“And you didn’t listen.”
“I know.”
“And now… what are we going to do now?”
You had no answer to give, you were plagued by this same question yourself.
A moment of silence, suspended in mid-air. Outside, the quiet of cars passing by and the wind flowing through branches and pushing clouds around. Inside, the cold of the bag making your fingers ache, a welcomed burn to distract your busy mind, while Andrew was taking a sharp inhale.
“I heard you, you know?”
His voice was quiet, low and deeper than usual. He blinked, focusing on you again, trapping you into these hazel orbs you adored.
“When you talked to Craig, in the kitchen. I heard you. I was right behind the door.”
“That’s creepy,” you tried to deflect the impact of that revelation with humour, speaking the silliest thing you could have uttered. It still made Andrew break, laughing despite his best effort not to.
“I was sent to put the napkins away. But then… I heard you. Didn’t interrupt. Wanted to know what you would say.”
He narrowed his eyes a little, the ghost of a frown forming a crease across his brow.
“Did you mean any of that? Or was that just… one more lie?”
The bag of vegetables slipped from the hold of your numb fingers and fell, but Andrew stopped you as you reached for it, holding your face in his hands to force you to look at him.
“Did you mean what you said? About me? About us?”
“What does it matter?”
He knitted his brows, tightening his hold on you. You noticed the way his breathing stuttered, grew shallower.
“What does it matter?” he repeated. “Are you serious?”
“You don’t feel that for me. So… what does it matter?”
He let out a shaky breath, almost a sigh.
“Why did you kiss me like that, though?” you asked, tears shining in your eyes but you were determined not to let them fall. Your tone was almost bitter as you questioned him. “On the couch. You kissed my cheek… God, that was so much more than what it should have been…”
He blinked, trying to read behind your words for their true meaning. He didn’t find it, reached in the dark and his hand closed on nothing.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”
“Why did you kiss me like that? That was so out of line…”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
“Why did you do that?”
Slowly, he shook his head. He looked almost stunned by your question.
“You really don’t know?”
He leaned back against the counter, and pulled you with him, until your faces were so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.
“You really don’t know?” he asked again.
“I don’t know…”
“Did you mean it? When you said… when you said that you wanted me. Did you mean it?”
“I said a bit more than that…”
“I’m not foolish enough to hope for the rest to be true as well, I’ll settle for a ‘I vaguely like you’.”
It was your turn to chuckle even if you didn’t want to.
“If I answer earnestly, you’re going to hate me for wanting more and breaking our friendship.”
He shook his head, leaning closer, until his forehead rested upon yours. At long last, you reached up, holding on his forearms for support, and to make sure he wouldn’t go away…
You heard him wincing as he spoke, heard it in the way his voice was shaking. You had closed your eyes, and so had he.
“Let’s be honest with each other. Please… I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of denying the way I feel for you, or what I want when it comes to you, I’m tired… I’m tired of letting you slip away. So, please. Please be honest with me. I can’t keep on holding onto some mad hope. I can’t keep on pretending that I don’t… That I…”
He struggled to breathe for a moment, you tightened your hold on his arms but remained there, eyes closed, leaning against him.
“I kissed you like that because… because I wanted to. Because I let myself slip into yielding. Because I couldn’t help it. Because… because it hurt so fucking much to hold you like this, to be close to you in this way, to act the way I have longed for for years under some pretence, under a mask, as a lie… when it wasn’t a lie. When I… I wish it wasn’t a lie. I wish it could be for real.”
He sighed, long and painful and full of hurt, and you reached up to kiss him before he could say anything else.
If your first kiss at your parents’ house had been passionate and quite messy because of it, this one was slow, taking its time to learn each other’s taste and lips and mouth. You had no idea for how long you kissed, all you knew was that, while it lasted, there was nothing else in the world but Andrew kissing you; and that when it ended, you longed for it to start again.
“I meant it,” you whispered, bearing your soul in a confession that was so raw you couldn’t summon anything but a murmur, eyes still closed and lips barely parted from his. “What I told Craig, I meant it. I mean it. I want you… And this whole day has been torture for me too.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t either…”
“I almost said it a thousand times. Never had the courage.”
“Please… have it now, and kiss me again.”
He obliged, without protest or hesitation. You were lost in his embrace all over again, and rested your head against his chest when you eventually pulled away.
“So… what now?” you asked, voice muffled by his cardigan.
“We could go on a date.”
“I want to be wined and dined, just so you know,” you joked, making him chuckle.
“Duly noted. Anything else, for her ladyship?”
“I don’t know… I’m… I’m so fucking scared, to be honest.”
“Because everything is going to change?”
“Because it might not work out. Because… you might leave me, and I might give up and a thousand things can go wrong, and…”
But he softly shushed you, running his hand through your hair.
"Look, I… I’m not going to pretend that I’m not scared to bits by this. I feel like we have so much to lose. But I… I want you so badly. I want you so much, I’m ready to take the risk. We can take things slow, we don’t have to rush through this. I just… I feel like I'm truly myself when I'm with you. I want to be myself when I'm with you. So now, if you're scared, don't call it love yet. But whatever you want to call it, it's incredible, and I'm not going to give up on this. I'm not going to give up on us. I can promise you that, at least. That I’m ready to fight for this, for you.”
He was surprised by your chuckle.
“You’ve fought already. If you can call it a fight…”
“Yeah, exactly. I mean… he was about to seriously kick my arse but I did have a few seconds of manly glory there.”
You both laughed at that, the tension receding as a result.
“Perhaps, at the end of the day, that plan of mine wasn’t so bad,” you joked, making Andrew laugh harder, shaking his head.
“It was definitely a terrible idea. The worst idea you’ve ever had. Look at all the trouble it has caused!”
“Are you calling me trouble?”
“Of the worst kind.”
You were happy about this kind of trouble though, as Andrew was leaning down to kiss you once more, holding you close, unwilling to ever let go.
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thehighladywrites · 6 months
Note
Hii, it's me again, haha.
I got one idea and I though it would be fun, so here I am again...
Can you make texting with acotar characters or just batboys while reader is drunk and she slipped past them to bar and they text her where she went? (I hope it makes sense since my brain doesn't work this late...)
LA /Lulu <3
ACOTAR MEN X READER, SNEAKING OUT TO GO TO A BAR WHILE DRUNK
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Summary: Do you sneak past them successfully? And if you manage to do so, how do they react?
Warnings: Mild nsfw in Eris and Rhysand’s part, mentions of drinking, a bit of crying, mention of reader throwing up in Cassian’s part, just fluff and crack
Author’s note: Hi Lulu, I always love your requests. And you make perfect sense, but i switched it up and made headcanons instead of a text thread because it would’ve been too much text. I hope this is okay!🫶🏽 Also i loved writing this, thank you for your request!!🤍
Azriel:
- There is no sneaking past Azriel, it’s just impossible
- His shadows know if you move a millimeter
- Even if he didn’t have them, he’s the spymaster and there’s just no way you’re able to fool him, especially not when you’re this drunk
- You try to sneak out but very obviously fail when you trip over nothing and bring down the table next to you.
- “ Love, where do you think you’re going? You’re drunk out of your mind.”
- “ Ssshhh... *hiccup* hidin' from my mate. Bar with frens, can't let him kn... *mumbles* the secret, ya know?
- He laughs as he picks you up.
- You scream that you’re mated and then give him a big smile when he puts you down and meets your eyes as you realize it’s your mate.
- “Hey, babyyy, misshed you soso much, like, *slightly mumbles* a looot!”
- you plant a fat kiss on his lips and pull him to you
- Azriel just gives you a small smile and pick you up to put you in bed.
- He’s for sure giving you lessons on how to properly sneak out, because you were too damn obvious,
- The spymaster can’t have his own mate be a bad spy, now can he?
Rhysand:
- He let’s you sneak out.
- This guy trails you, dying of laughter as you have a full on conversation with a tree, thinking it’s a person.
- He loves that you’re tiptoeing in the middle of the streets, trying to be subtle.
- Your eyes widen as you see him standing at the entrance of the bar you tried to sneak into.
- “Hello there darling, fancy meeting you here.”
- “ Whoooa you're here too? *hiccup* Wha' a craaazy coincidence, Cheeers to surprish... *mumbles* meetin's!”
- You beg him for shots and he indulges you, but switches the shots of vodka for water. He knows you were drunk enough to not realize. And if you complain about the taste, he adds a bit of salt for the taste.
- You both dance and sing and make out
- yeah drunkenly making out with Rhysand is heavenly
- He grabs you and leads you somewhere more private because it is unbecoming for the high lady and high lord to be seen like this
- his idea of private is… * drumroll * the bathroom!!!
- Rhys picks you up and plops you down on the sink’s side and just goes at it with no care in the world, after all who can say something to him or you?
- anyways you’re both lucid enough to acknowledge that fucking in a bar might be a bit… yeah… so he takes you home and gives you the time of your life
Cassian:
- Cassian is just as drunk as you are
- In the middle of your drunken giggles you came up with this brilliant idea to sneak out and meet up your friends at Rita’s
- You were in The House of Wind so sneaking out wasn’t really as easy as it sounded since you don’t have wings.
- You really wanna go out so you ask Mor to secretly help you when she’s leaving
- The bar was crowded as you danced on tables and bought shots for everyone.
- All of a sudden you felt nauseous and needed to empty your guts. You run out and stumble into Cassian who looks surprised to see you.
- Before he can explain what he’s doing here, you move away and throw up in the alleyway.
- He makes his way over to you and holds back your hair.
- The whole thing sobers you up a bit as you look up at Cassian, sensing mischief and guilt.
- “Baby, what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely confused.
- “ Um, Rhys and Az are in the bar next door and asked if i wanted to come. Wait- what are YOU doing here?”
- “ Uhhh, I snuck out too. I wanted to meet my friends. But wait did you seriously plan on leaving me alone?”
- His jaw dropped and you bit your lips from laughing.
- “You snuck out first! So actually, you left me first, all alone.”
- You both stare at each other for a hot minute before giggling and agreeing that this never happened and left to meet up with Rhys and Az.
Lucien:
- He trusts you more than anyone in the world, so he doesn’t suspect that you’re lying when you say you’re just going to the bathroom.
- Little does he know you’re drunkenly stumbling over to The Sunshine Delight, the best bar in the Day Court.
- You don’t know how long you’re there for but you go up to the stage and sing a bit, go the bar and drink, dance around and suddenly stumble upon your friends.
- They catch up with you as you sit and play drinking games, laughing and having the time of your lives.
- Your friends sit up straighter and fix their hair and makeup as your brows furrow in confusion. Turning around to see who they’re oogling at, you’re met by Helion’s bewildered expression.
- Shit. If your father-in-law knew you were here then there was only a matter of time before Lucien picked you up. Your friends however didn’t care as Helion approached.
- “ Gods, you’re lucky Y/n, he is so hot! Please put in a good word for me.” You friend not-so-subtly whispered, unaware that Helion was already mated to Lady of Autumn. Helion’s laugh boomed as he plopped down besides you, making you sober up a bit.
- “My dearest daughter, what in The Mother’s name are you doing here all alone? Is my son lurking around here?”
- Oh no, Lucien… Even though you missed your friends, you wanted him here. Tears started forming in your eyes as you started feeling distressed by your mate not being next to you
- “ M’not sure. He should be around here somewhere. Actually let me go check-” He must know you’re lying because he just laughs and tells you Lucien is on his way.
- “ You’re drunk out of your mind and I honestly applaud you for managing to sneak out of the palace at all. But it’s dangerous to be here by yourself, sweetheart. Let’s just wait for Luc, yeah?”
- He was right. Gods, how could you just leave Lucien? Guilt filled you as you started sobbing in the middle of the bar. Your friends and father-in-law looked alarmed and they comforted you as you cried for your mate and husband.
- Lucien was so ready to lecture you about leaving drunk and alone in the middle of the night but all of that came to a halt when he noticed you crying.
- His protective instincts went into overdrive as he hurriedly approached the table, confusion written all over his face as you threw yourself at him in a bone crushing hug, bawling your eyes out.
- Helion and your friends briefly explained as they held back their laughs at your drunken state.
- Lucien took you home and cared for you, whispering comfort and postponed his lecture about the dangers of the night.
- His mate needed him and you were his priority, always.
Eris:
- Yeah…
- I genuinely think he’s one of the smartest sjm-verse characters and if we’re so real, you’re not sneaking past him.
- But let’s be a bit delulu
- He noticed you were a bit buzzed after having too much wine at dinner
- Much to his amusement, you cling to him and act like a complete fool. But he makes sure it’s in private because he knows you’d die if you knew anyone saw you acting like a drunkard.
- At dinner, your ladies informed you that they were visiting this new bar and asked if you wanted to come. Initially you had declined because you wanted to spend time with Eris, but after he informed you that he has a meeting, you changed your mind.
- You had to be very sneaky since Eris knew you inside and out. He could tell when you were up to something. But this was the perfect coverup for your plan.
- “I’m so tired. I think this wine is making me sleepy. Love, I’m gonna turn in for the night, you sure you still have to go to that meeting? You could stay here with me instead.”
- Eris eyes filled with longing as he sighed heavily.
-“ I wish I could cancel, my beloved. But Lord Cruit travelled far and I think it’s best we get these documents signed and dealt with. Besides it’s only two hours and if you behave, i’ll treat you real nice. What do you say?” He gently brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into a kiss.
- You loved when he treated you good, but you loved it even more when he punished you. So you just smiled at him sweetly, putting on your best show.
-“ I’ll behave, I promise. I love you, now hurry. You don’t wanna be late.” You pecked him once, twice and ushered him out as quickly as you could before he could pick up on what you were doing
- You waited for fifteen minutes before you changed into one of your sluttiest dresses you had, and winnowed to the new bar. You spotted your friends and made your way over, deciding not to drink too much since you wanted to remember the inevitable consequences of your decision
- and also the wine from dinner had you buzzed.
- After around two hours, the crowd separated to let High Lord Eris through. He looked beyond unamused, just staring at you without saying anything because, well, it wasn't something he wanted everyone to hear in public.
- he just looks at you from top to toe and simply turns around and walk away.
- That is your cue to go as you fall into step behind him.
- “ Babyyyyyy s-slow down, 'ese shoes, can't... *mumble*... walk right in 'em!” He slows down and extends his hand before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and winnowing home.
- Eris leads you into your chambers and puts you down before grabbing your chin and looking you deep into your eyes with a wicked smirk as he mentally starts planning your punishment, funishment is more like it
- Safe to say he had fun… and he told you that if you’d just let him know you were going out then he wouldn’t have had to look for you like a maniac. He gave you a dark chuckle when you told him this was your plan all along.
- Here babes, you’re gonna need this wheelchair 👩🏾‍🦽👩‍🦽
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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months
Text
Ne Me Quitte Pas
Alastor x angel!reader
Chapter 1: The Song is Ended (But the Melody Lingers on)
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Chapter Warnings: Murder, Mentions of rape, Death
The song is ended
But the melody lingers on
You and the song are gone
But the melody lingers on
Masterlist
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"Have you ever been in love, Alastor?"
The radio static screeched to a halt. Charlie winced at this, covering her ears.
"What brought you to question this, dear?" Alastor asked after recovering from the initial shock, his ever-present grin looking a bit strained.
Charlie chuckled awkwardly. "Well..," she pointed at the pendant that hung around his neck, sitting atop his garments, "I see you with that beautiful pendant around your neck all the time and you're very protective of it.... so I was just wondering," she trailed off.
Alastor let out a laugh, "Oh my dear, this is nothing," he lied, "Love. What a ridiculous notion!"
Charlie could not help but not believe him, but she let it go anyway; bidding farewell to the radio demon to search for her girlfriend.
Alastor was left alone in his thoughts. His hands reached up to touch the little trinket he sought to wear religiously around his neck.
No, this wasn't nothing. This was everything.
As he walked through the halls of the hotel to reach his room, his mind lingered on you. You were the one who gave him this pendant. You were the one who stole his heart.
Yes, he was in love once. Still is.
He remembers the time he met you- when you became his safe haven. He remembers when you had to leave, far from him and he could do nothing about it.
He also remembers meeting you again- the memory etched in his mind.
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It was a bright sunny morning in Louisiana. Alastor was in his studio, narrating the tragic news of the New Orleans Boogeyman striking again. This time, hunting down and killing the nation's "hero", the son of a military veteran. Arnold Miller had followed in the footsteps of his father and had joined the army. His brilliant feats of achievements served as a source of inspiration for every lad in America, more importantly in New Orleans, since it was his place of origin. To everyone else, Arnold was a good soul, always ready to help out people, never backing down from serving the nation he loved so much.
Everyone, except Alastor. Alastor knew of his true nature. Arnold was accustomed to luring in girls - often against their will- taking their dignity, ripping them to shreds, and leaving them to pick up the pieces in front of the ever-scrutinizing society. He used to brag about his "escapades" to his pals, unafraid that anyone would turn against him. Everyone loved him after all. Moreover, he saw no fault in his actions.
Alastor was more than willing to show him his flaws. He regretted not taking care of him earlier, jeopardizing the safety of so many women. But at least he was gone, having faced the end of Alastor's blade. No one would have to deal with another scum like him anymore.
His radio show went on as usual, after the initial murder reports.
He talked about the daily humdrum around the locality, cracked a few jokes on the ever-changing economy, and suggested stores that sold excellent formal wear. This was a routine he'd come to love during his time as a radio host. He was satisfied with the predictability of his shows, and his life by extension.
All in all, he was happy with the hand he was dealt with.
"That is all for today, folks! Be sure to lock your doors tonight and refrain from walking alone at night. You never know when the Boogeyman might jump up behind you!" he chuckled, "And don't forget to smile! You're never fully dressed without one!"
He turned off his feed and sighed as he slumped against his chair. He couldn't wait to go back home already. His ma, although sick, had pestered him to never skip a day of his work. She'd told him he looked miserable whenever he did skip work and she wished nothing but happiness for him.
He assured her that he was happy to stay at home to take care of her but her stubbornness knew no bounds.
"I suppose I do get my grit from her," he wondered.
He took off his headphones and stood up from his chair, stretching his long limbs in the process. He started cleaning up his station, when suddenly he heard a knock.
"Come in," he said, not looking up at the opening door.
"Mr. Alastor!" a chirpy voice greeted him.
It was the young lad he had hired for the smooth running of his little business. Oliver had been thrown to the streets having been unable to pay his rent and Alastor had found him shivering in a corner of the street. Taking pity on him, the radio host offered him a job and a place to stay near the studio. Since then, Oliver had become a rather loyal help to him. Had it not been for his astounding marketing skills, Alastor's radio show would've been far from popular.
"Ah, Oliver!," Alastor hummed, still not looking up at him. He was rather busy making sure his studio was left prim and proper, "Do tell me, how can I be of service?"
Oliver was jumping with excitement, "Well, remember we were having a chat on how the radio station needed a few more hands to handle it, given its booming popularity?"
Alastor hummed as he repositioned the antiquities his mother had gifted him when he opened his studio.
"Well, I found someone willing to take on the ever-daunting task!" Oliver exclaimed and stepped aside, "Meet our newest employee!"
Alastor, still stuck in his own world didn't look up until he heard a sweet voice ringing through.
"Greetings, Mr. Alastor!"
His hands paused for a second. This voice... he'd recognize it anywhere. He turned around abruptly and finally looked at his overexcited acquaintance and the recently recruited employee.
It was you. His breath got caught up in his chest.
"Salutations," he said softly, his mind still not having caught up with the fact that you were in front of him, alive, "May I ask what your name is?"
You uttered what he had wanted to hear. His eyes could not believe it. After all these years, he was finally able to see you. The very person who'd become his safe haven when he was young, the person who'd comforted him during those dark times- when he ran away from home, when he felt scared and alone, the person who'd given him the pendant he wore religiously around his neck before they left.
"Oliver, " he glanced at the boy, "Do go get them a drink. It is quite unsightly for us to not treat the newest addition to our business."
Despite your protests, Oliver nodded his head and ran out the door, eager to please his boss.
When the door closed shut, Alastor let out the breath he was holding in since he saw your face.
He muttered your name, "Dear, is it really you?"
Your eyes blinked for a few seconds before they scrunched up with your growing smile, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten me, Al."
Alastor laughed in disbelief, "Forget you? What utter nonsense. Forgetting you would be a sin so great that even Lucifer would shy away from it."
He slowly approached you, "Besides, " his hands went up to the pendant, "How could I afford to forget when you gifted me this?"
Your eyes shone and you giggled, "You still have that!" Your hands reached out to touch the pendant, but you hesitated and they stayed frozen in the space between the two of you.
Before you could apologize for invading his personal space, his hands drew yours closer. You stumbled forward, placing your hands on his chest, right over the pendant that lay atop it. You blushed at the sudden proximity. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you close. You dared to look up at him.
"By golly, you seem to have gotten much taller," you chuckled, pushing up his glasses that had slid down the slope of his nose, "Last I remember, you were still shorter than me."
His eyes and smile had grown softer, far from his usual demeanor.
"And you still look as beautiful as the day I lost you."
As if your face couldn't possibly get more heated, he managed to make it boiling hot. You tried uttering a response but stuttered halfway through. Taking pride in how he made you speechless, Alastor asked, "When did you arrive here?"
You finally found your voice, "O-oh, I just moved in yesterday! I needed a fresh new environment after having finished my schooling and I decided to come here. I was looking around for a job this morning when I stumbled upon Oliver and he offered me a position at your radio station!"
Alastor tsked, still holding you close, "Cher, you cannot just accept some stranger's proposal for a job. What if he lured you into something dangerous?"
"He told me about your radio show and I trust you with my life so...." you trailed off, looking sheepish.
Alastor chuckled as he shook his head. Letting go of you, he stepped back to pick up the coat that was hanging on his chair. Just as he was doing so, the door burst open to reveal Oliver with a piping hot kettle and a mug.
"I do apologize. Mr. Alastor here only likes drinking coffee so we have no other beverages available," Oliver explained, as he placed the utensils down on the nearby table.
"That won't be necessary now, dear boy," Alastor continued, "I'll be showing them around our city. Do keep the studio prepared and the articles ready for the evening broadcast."
And with that, he offered you his arm, "Shall we?"
You grinned and looped your arm around his and the two of you walked out, leaving behind a very confused Oliver.
"What just happened-"
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Alastor's smile widened at the memory. He vividly remembers spending every waking hour with you beside him, now that he'd found you again. He had grown terribly attached to you, but you did not mind it one bit. You enjoyed the attention he showered you with and his company was something you looked forward to each day.
Oliver always joked about the two of you getting together. So it wasn't a surprise to him when you two eventually started courting each other. All he did was lament about being the miserable third wheel.
Alastor remembers how his daily "escapades" had reduced significantly with the more time he spent with you. He did not even realize that fact until the newspapers reported on the disappearance of the New Orleans Boogeyman.
His smile had strained when he'd read the article, his anger growing by every second. How dare they think of him as a coward?
However, all those thoughts dissipated at the sound of your voice. Oh, how you had captured his mind, body, and soul.
He introduced you to his ma soon after he started courting you. Although she couldn't see you properly, given her ailing health and age, she still welcomed you with open arms.
As he stopped going on his "hunts" frequently, his relationship with you grew stronger. You were there with him in every new chapter of his life. When he celebrated his 100th broadcast, you were there celebrating with him. When he experimented with his own twist on his mother's jambalaya, you were right there tasting his creation. When his mother eventually passed away, you were right there comforting him as he sobbed into your shoulder.
On his 30th birthday, you gave him a gift he'd treasure for the rest of his life. He had been complaining about how only one of his eyes had problems with vision and that wearing a pair of glasses proved to be detrimental to his other healthy eye. Taking that into consideration, you had gifted him a monocle. You apologized for how small the gift was and told him that he could return it if he wasn't pleased with it. He had silenced you with a kiss.
You were all he thought about. A life with you beside him was everything he wanted. That is why, he stood there in front of the jewellery shop, inspecting and choosing the perfect ring to propose to you with.
When he was satisfied with his pick, he had stored the little box inside his coat pockets. Oh, how he wished his ma was there to witness all of this. She had always wanted to see him married to someone, happily living the rest of his life under the love and care of his spouse.
Things were just perfect, more than ever before.
Until karma came knocking on his door. Literally. His dead heart still pains at the memory.
Alastor had never lost control of his life after he "took care" of his father. He prided himself on that. It was the control he was after, once he landed in hell and that is what made him a formidable overlord.
But the day he lost you? He'd never felt more helpless.
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Alastor brushed some dirt off his clothes as he hummed to the tune of the radio playing in the background. His calm demeanor would fool most but he was undeniably nervous.
Today was the day he would ask you to be his, forever.
Alastor had called you to the little cabin he'd bought in the forest, which also served as his hunting ground- be it for deer or despicable humans.
No matter the atrocities he committed, one could not deny how beautiful the forest looked at night. Fireflies would scatter across the expanse of the land, making nighttime all the more lovelier.
Alastor had planned to get down on one knee with the night sky lit by stars and the glow from the fireflies. He believed it would be the perfect romantic atmosphere to propose to you.
Not long after, he heard a knock at the door. His smile grew impossibly large as he giddily opened the door. Instead of seeing you, however, his face was met with the end of a gun.
"See you in hell, murderer."
Alastor quickly ducked out of the way, letting the bullet whiz past him and hit the wall. The man who held the gun let out a grunt, displeased that his shot missed. Although the man was twice his size, Alastor was able to tackle him to the ground. Still, the man would not let go of his gun, leading the two of them to struggle for the weapon.
"You fucker- you deserve to die for what you did!" screamed out the man.
Alastor let out a laugh, his face looking strained, "I just did what those scums deserved."
In the middle of their struggle, the trigger was pulled once more and Alastor heard the gunshot. The bullet missed him again, this time shooting toward the entrance of the cabin. He hadn't looked away from his opponent for a moment, fearing he'd take advantage of the situation and kill him. However, his ears picked up a singular gasp.
His eyes widened as he looked towards the door, left ajar.
It was you.
Bleeding out of your skull.
Your eyes were wide as saucers, staring at Alastor. Your body trembled as you slid down the door, blood profusely dripping from your head and onto the wooden floors of the cabin. Then, with a loud thump, you fell back, taking your last breath.
Alastor felt his soul leave his body.
no...no...surely this was a dream, right?
Taking advantage of Alastor's vulnerability, the man shoved him aside and got up on his feet, pointing the gun at Alastor.
"Too bad the little missus had to go. It wouldn't have happened if you did not do what you did," the man sneered.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Alastor took ahold of his gun and with all the strength in his body, pushed it out of the man's grasp. The gun flew to the side of the cabin, leaving the man unarmed.
Alastor stood up slowly, his facial muscles stretching in a maniacal grin. The man backed down slowly, his body trembling slightly.
"YOU. MADE. A. GRAVE. MISTAKE."
With that, Alastor pounced on the man and started beating him relentlessly, laughing all the while. He did not stop till the man's face had become red and blue beyond recognition and his chest stopped heaving.
Silence enveloped the cabin. In it was Alastor- his hands covered in blood, and two bodies. Alastor walked away from the dead body of the man and moved towards your lifeless figure.
Despite his maniacal grin still present, his eyes welled up with tears as he held your body close. His heart throbbed with immense pain and his mind turned foggy. All he could do was cry into your shoulder, wishing this was all a dream.
The night he was supposed to end with you as his spouse-to-be had now turned into him burying the love of his life. When he was done, he reached out for a stone and carved your initials on it, placing it atop your grave. He sat there for a while. His hands reached into his pocket and he pulled out the ring. He placed it on the stone.
His chest pained as he walked away from your grave. He would come back soon, he just had to dispose of the scum that decided to take his light away from him. Just as he started to turn the wheelbarrow that contained the remains of the man, he heard another gunshot.
This time, it did not miss.
Alastor fell to the floor of the forest. He sidled up to your grave painstakingly, abandoning the wheelbarrow. Blood poured rapidly from his head. Those god-awful hunters had shot him under the cover of this grim night. He somehow managed to rest himself against the tree that was situated right beside your resting place.
"Oh cher, " he wheezed out, "I suppose I wouldn't mind dying next to you."
As if things couldn't get worse, he heard the growls of the hunting dogs close by. His grin widened. So this was how karma came around, taking everything away from him. All that was left was himself.
His bleary eyes followed the imposing figures of the hunting dogs as they surrounded his dying body.
He reached out his hand towards the pendant.
Alastor couldn't even scream when the beasts tore into his body.
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"Alastor?"
The radio demon turned towards the princess of hell, her hands laden with plans for the hotel.
"Yes, dear?"
Charlie hesitated, "You seemed a bit lost there. Are you ok?"
Alastor let out a laugh, "Just as jolly as the day I came to hell. Haha!"
Taglist: @yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx
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